#I've never in my life stared at men's bodies as much as I have these past months

[imthursdaysyme]

Stobin and their fall haircuts

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[coolyiooo]

Making BSD Men Climax From Making Out With You

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, and Chuuya

❗Warnings❗: biting, hickeys, humping, pulling hair, orgasms, twitching, moaning, and arousal

🖤DAZAI🖤

You were laying on your bed while Dazai was on top of you. Your legs were wrapped around his hips and one of your hands was touching his hair and the other on his shoulder. One of his hands was on the side of your neck and the other on your back. You were making out aggressively, both of you moaning and breathing heavily from the intense kiss. He then moves his head to your neck and starts leaving hickeys

"Your so perfect my belladonna~" he whispers against your neck

You respond in a quiet moan, but you pull his hair slightly to tug him away from your neck and you flip yourself over, now you were on top of Dazai.

He chuckles with a smirk "Getting feisty bella~?"

You give a genuine smile back at him "I just want to show you how much I love you"

You kiss his forehead to his cheek, neck, collarbone and chest "Give you the love i believe you deserve" you whisper against his skin

You sit up and grab one of his arms, raising his bandaged wrist towards your lips, kissing it gently

"I love every part about you" you say as you stare into his eyes lovingly

He feels his heart skip beats. His eyes slowly widen. He feels like he doesn't deserve to hear such praise, especially from you. His hand, still being kissed by you, gently cups your face

He's about to say something, but you kiss his lips again. He wants to say how he doesn't deserve it, but he becomes a victim of your affection and gives into your kiss. Instead of the aggressive pace you did previously, it was now a passionate, gentle make out. You slowly kiss every inch of his body and mumble about how much you love him as a person as well.

"You always make me happy I'm so glad to have met you" you whisper between each kiss.

He starts to moan deeply. His hands gripping on to your bed sheets as you slowly rock your hips on his.

"B-bella~" you cut off his sentence with a kiss on the lips and pull his hair gently to deepen it.

He moans into the kiss, but he feels intense arousal only getting stronger by every second of your lips against his. He then widens his eyes and pulls away from the kiss. His head falls into the pillow as he moans beautifully, slightly arching his back and twitching.

You knew instantly what had just happened when you saw the new wet stain on his pants. You make eye contact with a wide eyed, flushed face Dazai as he was breathing heavily.

"I- it wasn't what it looks like! Your over thinking things!" He laughs nervously

You smile and kiss his lips to shut up his excuses. You embrace him with a warm hug. Your head laying on his chest.

"Please don't be so embarrassed my love. I told you I was going to give you the love I believe you deserve after all" you say

You can hear his heart beat rapidly as you say that. You get up to look at him. He seems to still be embarrassed, but he smiles kindly, putting a hand on your cheek

He softly says "I've never felt better in my whole life"

💚RANPO💚

You were straddling on top of Ranpo on the couch making out. Your hand rested on the back of his neck to pull him closer to your lips, deepening the kiss, earning a muffled whimper from Ranpo.

Your hand slowly moves up from his neck to the back of his head, feeling his hair, grabbing a fist full of it, making his hat fall to the ground. You and Ranpo's hips slowly rock into each other. His hands on your thighs, squeezing them gently. You pull away from his lips, which makes Ranpo whine from the sudden loss of your touch.

"Your so cute Ranpo~ I just want to kiss every inch of you" you say as you kiss his neck and collarbone, kindly nibbling his skin too.

He moans as a response to your praise, but he smiles "Your pretty cute like this. I want more of you, sugar~"

He dives into your lips, kissing you again.You listened to what he said and plan to give him more. You grab one of his hands, bringing it under your shirt and bra to place it on your bare breast. He starts to play with your breast making both of you moan, but he wanted to tease you a bit.

He pinches your nipple gently which makes you moan louder and grind against him harder. The more you moved against him the more he felt your body against his hard cock, which you thought was just something in his pocket. He started to moan a little louder

"You like that Ranpo~?" You whisper in his ear

"Mhmm~ your so soft~" he whimpers

You smiled "God you make me so wet~" you say before you kiss him again.

He started to feel too aroused, you were becoming too much for him. Electricity flowed though his body everytime you spoke and kissed his lips or neck. His breathing was getting heavy as he felt his limit.

"S-sugar wait~!" He said, but it was too late.

He whimpered loudly as he came on his pants. His forehead against your chest as he squeezed your breast and thigh. He was twitching aggressively.

You were a bit dazed about what happened, but it didn't take too long for you to figure it out. You could tell he was trying to hide his embarrassed face, his pride probably broken. You grab his hand that was still on your breast and brought it under your underwear, bringing his fingers to your wet cunt. He looks up at you with open eyes

"Don't be so embarrassed Ranpo. Can you feel the affect you have on me too?"

He gulps but then he suddenly finds his confidence again and enters a finger inside your wet cunt. You squeeze into his shoulders as you moan loudly, laying your head on his chest.

"I want to see more, sugar~"

💜FYODOR💜

You sat on Fyodor's lap as you were both passionately making out. His hands on your hips and yours on his shoulders. Fyodor set the pace to slow and gentle, but you wanted to go faster and aggressive. You just wanted more of him. You tried to go at a faster pace, but Fyodor pulled his lips away from you and said

"Be patient my love"

You whined "please Fedya I want to feel more of you. It's becoming unbearable for me to keep going like this"

He chuckles "just a bit longer myshka~"

He kisses your lips again going at a slightly faster pace. You moan into the kiss and begin to rock your hips against his thigh. He smirks into the kiss from seeing how desperate you've become, but he starts to feel tingly all over his body. He's never felt this before and he couldn't stop your movement.

Everytime you begged and pleaded it only made the feeling worse. Everytime you desperately tried to go at a faster pace, but only couldn't and seeing you devastated made him feel aroused. To know he has so much power over you was amusing to him.

"So g-good P-please Fedya~" you moaned against his lips

"Your doing so well my myshka~" he said trying to hide his moan

"You look so breath taking like this" he says in a low voice

All he could think about was you and the stimulation, which only reached him closer to his limit. His heart raced faster and faster. Before he finished though, he sank his teeth into your neck. Your pained, loud whimper was the cherry on top for Fyodor as he climaxed on himself. Your voice was so loud, you couldn't hear his grunt as he came.

He kissed your fresh bite mark. His breathing was shaky and fast, but his body was slightly trembling.He didn't want you to know what you just made him do nor let you figure it out before it was too late, so he came up with an idea.

You were gonna ask if he was ok since he was twitching and breathing heavily, but he kissed your lips and dug his fingers under your underwear to rub against your clit, making you moan loudly. Your head laid on his shoulder while your hands grip harshly on them too. Your body was already stimulated from the make out

"You were this wet just from my lips my love?" He smiled knowing he also has an affect on your body

"Go ahead and finish on my fingers darling"

💙ATSUSHI💙

You were both sitting on the couch making out aggressively, but passionately. You were sitting on top of him with your hands on his hair and cheek and his were on your hips. You were both moaning into the kiss while he was a blushing mess.

Both of you were breathing heavily and slightly humping each other.Your hands slowly roam his entire body to his chest, shoulders, back, and neck. This made Atsushi's moan louder since he's never been touched like this before or even received such love from someone. He wasn't complaining one bit, but he is sensitive everywhere you touch him.

This is the most intimate thing you both have done in this relationship. You tug on his hair gently to pull away from the kiss and start to attack his neck with kisses instead. He starts to whimper from the sensation.

"Atsushi your so beautiful.. you literally make me crazy" you whispered as you continue to kiss him

Every praise you say just sends electricity of arousal throughout his entire body that he can even feel it in his fingers.

"Mmm~! J-just like that" he whimpers

"Heh I can't get enough of you" you whisper again before you unbutton about three buttons on his shirt and start kissing his chest and collarbone.

He can only respond to you in moans and whimpers. His hands gripping onto your hips tightly from too much stimulation. You start to kiss his lips again and passionately make out. Your hips begin to rock against his hard cock, which you assumed was just his wallet.

"W-wait~!" He whimpers out loud but you kept on kissing him

He started to whimper and breath heavier and suddenly he pulled away from the kiss. He hugs you tightly, putting his chin on your shoulder and moans loudly while twitching intensely.

At first you were confused, but then you realized what had just happened. He couldn't move or say anything, all you could hear was heavy breathing. His forehead was now laying on your shoulder, you could see his ears are shaded red. You knew he was embarrassed.

He then looks up at you "I-im so sorry! I- it's just you were too much for me to handle so I just- I'm sorry!" He said timidly

You chuckled and kiss his lips "You have a huge affect on me too Atsushi. There's no need to apologize"

You lean into his ear and whisper "hearing your moans and whimpers made me so wet"

you lean back to look into his eyes. He was In shock, too speechless to say anything, but then he suddenly finds his words again.

"I- I want more of you...please"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You were sitting on top of his desk while Chuuya was in between your legs. His hands wonder all over your body, feeling every inch of you. Your hands were on his cheek and shoulder. You were both lovingly making out, quietly moaning and groaning into the kiss. He pulls away from your lips and attacks your neck with soft kisses, lowering your sleeve to kiss your shoulders, trying to kiss more of your skin as much as possible.

"You make my mind go blank" you whisper as you hold onto the back of his head.

Your head leaned back so he can have more access to your neck."F-fucking shit!..I love you so much" he mumbles under your skin

"Your so beautiful Chuuya I want more of you~" you moan softly

He kisses your lips again, this time with more passion. Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, bringing his body closer to yours. Your pelvises rubbing against each other. One of your hands starts to pull on Chuuya's hair, only making him moan louder into the kiss.

"Your everything I've ever wanted please don't stop" you panted

This only influences Chuuya to be more aggressive. Your praises give him so much arousal he can't even think straight. Every touch, kiss, praise, and moan you make drives him over the edge. He soon finds himself at his limit.He gasps while squeezing your waist as he comes on himself, grunting loudly. His chin on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath as his legs tremble. His breath shaking from the intense sensation.

You were shocked, but suddenly finds yourself chuckling softly "your so precious Chuuya. Don't be embarrassed, I find it actually quite flattering I have such an affect on you"

"F-fuck what are you doing to me doll?" he says looking at you with blushing cheeks, clearly a bit embarrassed, but he still smiles at you.

You lean into his ear "If u were so needy to be inside me then you could've said something darling"

Almost immediately, He slams your shoulders onto the desk, leaving you startled, as you feel Chuuya raise your legs to lay on his shoulders.

He smirks "You don't have to tell me twice"

[keyotos]

➳ you're my achilles heel

summary ⎯ niche microtropes w/ the hsr men! emphasis on the micro (not rlly)

includes ⎯ dan heng, aventurine & jing yuan

tana talks ⎯ who's missed me? i've been gone for a HOT minute, and what other way to come back than kickstarting my 1k event: niche microtropes! more info about that will be here. thank you so so much for 1k!!!!

dan heng

when they both have to share a bed and one of them reveals it was the best night of sleep they've ever had

⎯ dan heng has made a lot of mistakes in his life, and letting march choose hotel rooms has to be one of them.

⎯ granted, he truly thought that march would do a good job at choosing the hotel, financial planning, and of course–choosing the rooms.

⎯ and everything was great. until you and dan heng had to share a bed.

you and dan heng shifted around the bed a few times before finally settling into designated spots. it was decided that dan heng would sleep on the outside, while you slept near the wall. his back faced you as he tucked himself into bed.

⎯ you and dan heng were friends. this awkwardness wasn't normal, and there should be no reason for the two of you to be avoiding each other like you are now. alas, here you are now, laying at least a foot apart.

⎯ the room is completely silent, and a bit cold as well. dan heng felt a breeze constantly grazing his shoulders. yeah. there was no way he could sleep like this

⎯ you, on the other hand, felt too hot. you had most of the blankets on your side and you felt SUFFOCATED. sometimes, it felt hard to breathe. but u weren't sure if that was just nerves or bc of how hot you felt.

⎯ ultimately, you are the one who has to make the first move.

"dan heng," you turned around and whispered, "are you cold?"

⎯ obviously, he was cold. but was he going to say anything about it?? no.

"i'm fine," he said, still facing his back towards you. "are you cold?" you gulped at the dry response. usually, you find yourself always wanting to talk to dan heng. he was never a boring converser, so why was he acting so strange tonight? but then again, you had no room to talk—you haven't said a word to dan heng until now.

⎯ at this point, you're a little frustrated at the lack of communication between the both of you. so—being the problem solver that you are—you decide to do something about it

slowly, you inch closer to dan heng—just to test the waters, of course. dan heng doesn't reach much, only a small head turn once he feels a dip in the mattress. you take some of the blanket and throw it over dan heng, awaiting his response.

⎯ meanwhile, dan heng over here is internally flipping out. when you inched towards him, dan heng could feel his heart skipping more than a few beats. and when you threw the blanket over him, dan heng wasn't sure if he felt warm due to the blanket or you.

⎯ when he finally turns over, you have to hide your wide eyes and slacked mouth underneath the blanket. you peer back up, and he's staring right at you.

"are... you okay?" you whisper underneath the blanket. "i'm cold," is all dan heng says. you hide your smile underneath the blanket, but you have a feeling dan heng knows you're smiling anyway. he's looking straight in your eyes after all.

⎯ and then you say it. you practically hit the pentagon.

you open up the blanket to where it reveals a dark silhouette of your body. "do you want to share?"

⎯ dan heng practically malfunctions. usually, there are always things dan heng says to fill the silence. he never runs out of words. not in a talkative way like march, but rather, he has an extensive vocabulary

⎯ this time though? haha. very funny. he's gone mute.

dan heng blinks at you while you hold the blanket open. you raise an eyebrow, taunting him. he squeezes his eyes shut, and then reopens them to find you still holding the blanket. was he halluncinating?

"i don't want to intrude." "oh please," you quietly laugh, "we're already sharing a bed. we crossed the line of intrusion a few hours ago."

⎯ and that sounds like a good deal to the both of you. except, one thing.

"are things going to change after this?" dan heng asks you. you're glad it's dark, so dan heng doesn't see you flush, "i don't see why things would change," you say, maintaining a calm face.

⎯ that's enough to get dan heng under the covers with you.

⎯ you two sleep wonderfully the rest of the night—you two even woke up early too. you were the one to wake up first. the sun shone on your face, yet you didn't even feel the glare at all. you felt energized, which was weird considering that you went to bed at questionable hour last night.

⎯ oh, and you also felt a pair of arms over your waist too. and something pressing into your neck. and something wrapping around your legs. and you also feel really hot. is that from the sun????

⎯ yeah. it's going to be harder to keep your word.

aventurine

those dancing scenes where it just so happens that the lighting focuses on the two of you

⎯ lavish parties and extravagant events weren’t new to aventurine, who just so happened to stumble on one of the biggest on penacony

⎯ sometimes, the families hold galas. it’s more of an exclusive thing, so aventurine had to do some awkward mingling in order to get in. that includes a very awkward conversation with a security guard, who kept raising eyebrows at his outfit.

⎯ beforehand, he had no interest in going to this event. however, once faced with the possibility that he could gather intel, his mind quickly changed.

⎯ now, he is standing right next to you, the heir to penacony's iris family. in his short time on the planet, he's seen your face countless times: on billboards, commercials, and next to various items. but seeing it in person?

⎯ way. different.

"you've never been dancing before?" you lead the ipc executive, aventurine, down the halls of the iris family's ballroom. aventurine shakes his head as he follows you, "not once. though, as the iris family's biggest celebrity, i take it you're used to dances?" your eyes widen when you hear him utter the compliment, "i'm... i'm not sure i'm the biggest celebrity," you rub your neck sheepishly. you tilt your head back, "and i don't think i can remember a time where i didn't dance."

⎯ aventurine has one goal tonight, and it's to get information about the families. if all goes according to plan, then he'd have the upper hand on penacony itself, thus being able to use his knowledge as a bargaining chip for the ipc.

⎯ and if there's one thing aventurine is good at, it's bargains.

⎯ so now, aventurine is trying his hardest to charm you into giving out any information. because people like you always talk.

"that must've been nice," aventurine eggs you on, "from what i can tell, parties on penacony are always fun." you let out a small laugh, "i'm glad you think that." the two of you walk side-by-side, and you aren't saying a single thing. aventurine flexes his hand by his side, preparing to make more idle chatter. he's about to open his mouth when a bright, shining light beams onto the both of you.

⎯ from the look on your face, aventurine can tell that you did not like that. he stands there passively, awaiting for your next move.

⎯ what he did not expect was for you to hold out your hand for him.

"um," you clear your throat. your eyes dart around the room and you gulp, holding out your hand, "may i have this dance?"

⎯ aventurine meets your nervous eyes with his wide ones. it looks like the two of you have no other choice. eyes are on the both of you when aventurine takes your hand, and you pull him into a quiet space in the ballroom.

⎯ let's get one thing straight: aventurine does not know how to dance.

⎯ so currently, he's trying to avoid stepping on your toes, while trying to remain in sync with you. on the inside, aventurine is annoyed. there are ears everywhere, meaning that there's a bigger risk. however, aventurine is all about risks, and the night is still young.

"i thought you liked dances," aventurine purposefully whispers into your ear, and he can feel the heat rise up. his voice is sultry and sweet, and he hopes to get you addicted to it soon. you look up at him with crinkled eyes. the light is glaring on you, and it seems like you're glinting instead of shining. "i never said that." aventurine takes notice of the rise and fall of your chest—much faster than when the two of you met. the corner of his lip raises a little bit, "oh, i'm sorry. but are you uncomfortable? i thought you've been doing this for years? let me know if i can do anything to help?" he offers.

⎯ you only smile, and aventurine gives you a polite smile back. he follows your lead, waiting for you to say something, but you only lead him around the ballroom.

⎯ the light is still trailing after you, except it's beaming more on aventurine than you at this point.

⎯ it's beaming more on aventurine. oh. he gets it now.

"do you wanna get out of here?" he whispers in your ear once again. he has to try his hardest to bite down the smirk that was about to appear on his face. this was going to be easier than he thought. you grab his hand in a tight hold, "no," you firmly state, "we're staying here."

⎯ wow. what a shift of tone.

"i need your help," you mutter under your breath. "help me, and i'll do anything," you look up into his eyes, pleading with him through your gaze.

⎯ aventurine nearly steps on your feet. what?

"uh–what?" aventurine questions you as you keep moving.

"sneak me out of here. we can't go through the doors—there's the bloodhound family everywhere. but i need you to get me out," you beseech. you grab his hand, bringing it up to your chest and slowly sliding it down to your waist.

⎯ aventurine has to remind himself to keep his cool multiple times. breathe in, breathe out. what were you getting at here? why did you want to escape?

"listen, what i said earlier. about the parties. i need to get out," you spin yourself around and back into the blond. "help me," you connect your palms as you circle him, "and i'll help you," you intertwine your fingers together.

⎯ the light still glistens over the both of you. and aventurine thinks two things: he's gotten into something he didn't need to get into, and that he finally has a way into the family.

jing yuan

second chance romance, except the two of you have been keeping tabs on one another the entire time.

⎯ jing yuan's childhood is filled of fond memories: his old master, the bright and sunny days when he would train, and you.

⎯ you, who jing yuan would willingly miss trainings for. you, the brilliant and clever reporter who broadcasted for the people. you, who jing yuan had to let go.

⎯ he'd spend days rereading what you've wrote; whether it be small stories or big news on the luofu. everything you had written intoxicated him. however, all good things have to end eventually.

⎯ the break-up wasn't even technically a break up, because you two weren't even together. the harsh reality was that you two were just friends, so jing yuan has no actual reason to be moping around. people lose friends all the time, and with jing yuan's lifestyle, it was bound to be imminent.

⎯ as the general, jing yuan had new priorities, and it seems like you weren't one of them anymore.

⎯ so, you move on with your career. you founded the xianzhou's very own broadcasting channel, which aired to the millions of citizens across all ships. you're a superstar who hasn't left their core values. rather than the big stories, you focus on local ones. you focus on the people.

⎯ and general jing yuan... focuses on his job. sort of. not really.

⎯ can you really say that a general is focused on his job when he goes missing?

"jing yuan," your side aches once you utter his name, and you suppress an agonized moan, "why are you here?"

⎯ you know what they say, old habits die hard.

⎯ the founder of the xianzhou's broadcasting channel was found in critical condition a few days ago. you had been reporting on the a civil case that had struck on one of the ships, and—next thing you know—blood ran from your fingertips and you rushed into a critical care unit.

"how did you even get here?" you ask as you lift yourself up higher on the bed. jing yuan steps forward, but you move back. "i haven't spoken to you in years. you cut me off, and then you show up now? can i atleast get an explanation on how you found me?"

⎯ jing yuan's silence tells you all that you need to know. you keep up with the dozing general, even if you are off the luofu. because still, even after all these years, your heart trails after him.

"i wanted to see you," jing yuan blurts. his voice is much more deeper than you remember it to be. "so i contacted the hospital and told them that my old friend was in critical condition, and i needed to see you." you scoff, "an old friend is a stretch." you pause and look down at your hands. and then, a thought furrows in your mind. "wait, if you knew where i was hospitalized—you read my articles?" "i've never stopped."

⎯ oh. oh? oh????

⎯ safe to say that you were rendered speechless. the next five minutes were spent by you staring at jing yuan, jaw-dropped and all.

"how long?" you asked. "too long," jing yuan dryly chuckles. "since i left."

⎯ the air is thick, and things are obviously tense. and there are so many things to talk about. so many things to tell him. such as how you've surfed before (it was a big dream of yours). or how you finally adopted the cat you always wanted (you hope he brings up his lion).

⎯ and while you sit there, you realize that you've missed this. how could you even live without this for hundreds of years? without him? was it surreal to feel so strongly about a person that left so long ago?

⎯ so many milestones missed. so many to make up for. so many things to talk about. so many things to clear up. and you still want to do it all with jing yuan.

⎯ does he still want to do it with you?

you clear your throat, attempting to sit up straighter. you're struggling, and you've never felt so embarrassed in your life. while trying to adjust yourself once more, you see a shadow appear above you, and it's the one and only jing yuan. "do you need help?" he asks, holding his arm out for you as support. you take it gladly, pulling yourself up by grabbing onto his (big) forearm. "thank you," you dust yourself off, checking your side for any rips in your stitches. "now," you begin, letting out a shaky breath, "i think... i think we're overdue for a chat."

⎯ you knew jing yuan. you'd like to know him now. jing yuan knew you too, and now—judging by the look on his face—he'd like to know you too.

god i've missed the hc's so much. like i'm truly going back to my roots here. be honest did y'all miss the hc's too or was that just me????

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader

complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way

a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!

➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out

➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine

➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst

➵ fingering

➵ age gap (not a plot point)

(tell me if i miss anything)

having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.

and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!

another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.

so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.

she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.

older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.

logan took it very fucking seriously.

every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.

this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.

it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.

fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.

some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.

"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.

"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.

"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.

"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.

he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.

cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.

logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.

he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.

the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.

his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!

she squeaks, immediately sitting up.

"logan?"

"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."

she bites her lip.

"you took me home?"

"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.

"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.

"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.

he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.

knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.

as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.

just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.

that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.

"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.

"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.

"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.

"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.

conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.

theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.

finally, she sighs.

"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.

"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.

"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.

of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.

"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.

it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.

"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.

"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.

"i'm an idiot."

"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.

"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.

"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.

"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.

"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.

"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.

"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.

"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.

"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.

"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.

"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."

she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.

"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.

"why?"

"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.

"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.

"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.

"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.

"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.

"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.

"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.

"maybe i want you to."

"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.

"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.

"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.

"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.

"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.

"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.

"only fun if it hurts."

"i'm serious, princess." she relents.

"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.

"this okay?"

"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.

"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.

"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.

"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.

"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.

`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.

"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.

"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.

"thought that doesn't happen to you?"

"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.

"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.

"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.

"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."

"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.

"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.

she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.

"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.

"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.

"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.

"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.

"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.

"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.

there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.

"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."

safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.

[mangostarjam]

declarations (alternate version) — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, use of foods as nicknames, childhood best friends dynamic, reader wears a dress and heels, oral (f!receiving), 3k words — the first bit is the same as the original but it does deviate

"Why do I need to wear a dress?"

Hoshina Soshiro glances up from where he's lounging on your bed. You've already pulled on the dress, of course, and he watches with probably way too much interest as you tug and adjust the way it drapes along your body. It's pretty. It fits perfectly, though you have no idea when Soshiro learned your measurements enough to show up at your door with such a gorgeous dress hanging from his fingers. Maybe he got them from Okonogi-chan?

"You'll be walking 'round with me and the Captain, egg tart, so you've gotta look the part," he says idly, though you can feel the burn of his stare along the newly exposed skin of your back. "And don't forget the heels!"

You glance at the cute, strappy heels he left by your mirror and frown. "If I wear those, I'll be taller than you, Soshiro-kun."

"Aw, that doesn't matter," Soshiro says. He sits up and you look away from the flex of his incredibly defined abdominal muscles beneath his compression shirt, which he apparently wears all the time, even under his formal dress uniform with all its tassels and buttons.

God. Embarrassing. You really need to get your staring issue under control.

"I can fight whoever looks at ya."

"Wha— ?" Heat sears across your face as you splutter and spin around to face him. The skirt of your dress twirls with the movement and you catch his gaze snapping down to your thighs. "Why would you need to fight anyone?"

"Hm?" You take a step back as he gets up and stalks over to you, holding your breath subconsciously as he kneels at your feet and takes one of the heels in hand. Your room suddenly feels warmer, the air hushed, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in the entire universe. Soshiro chuckles quietly and shoots you a grin that makes your knees feel wobbly.

"Soshiro-kun?"

"Well, 'course I'm gonna fight for ya, apricot," Soshiro says. You flinch as he reaches out to grip your calf, the rough callouses on his fingers scraping lightly as he lifts your leg and slides your foot into the shoe. "You're my best friend, yeah?"

And I'm just a simple man in love goes unspoken as he carefully ties the silk around your ankle to keep the shoe in place. You wobble a bit at the balance and he glances up from beneath his violet bangs. "Hold onto my shoulders," he says quietly, reaching for your other leg. "Don't worry, I've got you."

"S-Soshiro-kun, I can put these on myself," you mumble, heat flaring up your spine at the careful pressure of his fingers on your ankle. He lifts your leg and you grab abruptly at his shoulders, fingers digging into the thick muscle there as you regain your footing with his support.

Soshiro lets out a breath. "I know," he says simply. "But I wanna do it."

Is this what men do when they're in love? You wouldn't know — the only man in your life you've ever cared about is right in front of you, and he's refused to elaborate on his strange statement no matter how many times you've asked. You have a feeling he means it, though.

Like, really means it. You love Soshiro — of course you do. You've always loved him. But lately it's felt… different.

Still comfortable. He's still your biggest supporter and vice versa, and he still knows exactly how to cheer you up and make you laugh. You know all his ticks and tells, and you take great pride in taking care of him while he's looking out for everyone else.

But at the same time… it's uncomfortable.

These little touches — they're new. The way his gaze lingers on your body is also new. Or… maybe you've just never noticed before. It's not a bad thing. But it makes you feel strange and fluttery inside and you catch yourself daydreaming about what it'd be like to actually get a hickey from Soshiro. Your best friend.

You stare down at the top of his head and try to repress a shiver as he skims up your legs to where your skirt rests against your thighs. His touch leaves behind a trail of warmth that burrows deep. "Um— ?"

"Ya look real pretty like this," he says. You're still holding onto his shoulders as he rises from his crouch, your entire body hot and hyperaware of how close he's standing once he straightens. "I could really just eat ya up." The smirk on his face makes your heart thump painfully in your chest, but he doesn't give you a chance to question it before he's grabbing your hands and spinning you around in a little twirl.

"S-Soshiro!"

You let out a little yelp as the room suddenly turns sideways, your center of gravity abruptly gone as Soshiro scoops you off your feet with one strong arm behind your back and the other beneath your knees. You throw your arms around his neck in a desperate move to keep from falling, though you know he'd never drop you.

Soshiro looks down at you with a glint in his eye. "Maybe I will."

"You'll… what?" you ask, breathless. He looks… hungry. Something about that look makes your stomach clench. "Soshiro-kun?"

"As your best friend, I think I've gotta do a lil inspection," Soshiro says brightly. He carries you over to your bed effortlessly, laying you down with a care that makes you burn up in a mixture of embarrassment and want.

You want… something. Soshiro gently detangles your hands from behind his neck and brings them up above your shoulders, gripping both wrists in one of his hands. His other hand is planted by your shoulder to keep from squishing you, though he keeps his balance with a knee between your thighs. "What…?"

"Just checking," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. You can feel his breaths on your lips and you strain a little against his hold, wondering if he can feel your pulse beating rabbit-fast in your wrists. His hand is trembling, though you can't imagine it's from the strain of holding himself up. "Can I?"

What… what is he asking?

Does it matter? It's Soshiro —

"Yeah," you breathe. "Go ahead."

His lips brush yours in a whisper, an exhaled sigh, a pressure as light as a butterfly. You make a funny sound and he grins as he skips down to your neck, pressing a firmer kiss there at your pulse.

"You do taste good, chestnut," he mumbles, just before you feel the sharp nip of his canines pinching your skin. You yelp in surprise and he chuckles, brushing his lips across the spot in apology.

"What did I say about food nicknames," you manage to gasp out, blinking blearily as he rises back up to face you. The tops of his ears and the arch of his cheekbones are painted a charming pink, but his eyes are serious as he meets your gaze.

"Are you good?" Soshiro asks.

Are you? You do feel good — better than good. The way your heart is racing would probably raise some eyebrows in a medical ward and your brain feels like mush, but. You've had your share of meaningless crushes — puppy love, infatuation — but none of it ever really mattered because you've always had Soshiro.

None of it ever felt like this.

Oh.

"I'm good," you whisper.

"And this is okay?" he asks. "I'm not — I told ya I don't mess around when it comes to you."

"I'm not messing around either," you grin up at him, feeling suddenly buoyant as the pieces click into place. "I'm yours, Soshiro."

Your best friend looks at you for a moment, but whatever he sees in your expression makes him laugh — a rough burst of sound punched out of his chest — before he leans down to kiss you again.

You can feel him smiling into the kiss.

It's a little awkward — he bumps your nose and you can't keep from grinning, either, so the kiss turns into several kisses, the smooth press of his lips against yours sending heat curling through your veins as his kisses get deeper, hungrier. He tilts his head and finally lets go of your wrists to grasp your chin, moving you to get the angle just right, though his careful intentions go up in smoke when you reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair and tug.

He pulls back with a gasp, eyes wide and pupils blown, panting as if he's just finished fighting off a kaiju. His voice cracks as he murmurs your name.

"Yeah?" you lean up to brush your lips against his jaw, admiring the strain of his neck as he huffs. "You're so pretty, Soshiro-kun."

It takes a second, but Soshiro's next breath is a sharp inhale as he presses his body against yours, pinning you to the mattress.

Then he whines.

Oh, god.

The sound seems to startle both of you, but he recovers first, dipping down to kiss you senseless as the ache in your core intensifies. He's solid and warm and heavy on top of you, his hands burning along your arms and sides and skimming over the neckline of your dress before he seems to settle on gripping your hips as he bullies his way between your thighs. The gasp you let out is loud in the thick air of your room, but the groan he lets out when you squirm against the solid, unyielding length of him is even louder.

Soshiro moves back to pressing hard kisses to your neck and exposed shoulders, panting hard as you whimper with every stinging nip of his teeth. "You're gorgeous," he murmurs, "you're so fucking perfect, I can't —"

"S-Soshiro," you whine, wiggling your hips in an effort to chase the electric sparks of pleasure rising with every sharp, aborted thrust of his hips. "What's — why're you —"

"I'm tryin' not to cum in my pants," he grunts, fingers digging hard into your waist to still you. You sob at the loss of friction and Soshiro huffs. "Fuckin' hell — you're so — but I can't be walking 'round the party all dirty."

Your eyes snap open at the reminder and you shove at the shoulders you were clinging to for dear life a moment ago. "The party!"

"Yeah, the party," Soshiro laughs, grabbing one of your hands. He presses a kiss to the leaping pulse in your wrist. "Didja forget, pumpkin?"

The tender affection somehow makes you warm, even as his hips grind slowly against your core to make you burn. Your legs, which you hadn't even registered moving, drop to the sides, sending your dress to pool further up your thighs and exposing the thin fabric of your panties. Soshiro glances down at the movement, but you can only see the way his lashes flutter at the sight before he's grinding his clothed cock against you again.

A muscle in his sharp jaw ticks as he glances back up at you. "Ya look real good," he says, "and I'm tryin' to do this right, but —"

One thing about being best friends for your whole lives means you can tell when he's holding something back.

One thing about becoming lovers with your best friend is that now you can see he's been holding back from this.

"You can't go into the party like this," you point out. Soshiro laughs, a strangled sound.

"We're not havin' a quickie as our first time," he says firmly. His expression lights up. "But I did promise an inspection, didn't I?"

"What're you — Soshiro!"

He moves too quickly for you to react, pressing another hard kiss to your lips — his tongue dipping in to draw out a startled moan — before he's suddenly kneeling at the edge of the bed, yanking you closer by your legs spread on either side of him. "The heels look nice," he says conversationally, dragging his hands up your calves.

You suddenly feel over-sensitive, your nerve endings straining into his touch as he leans forward to drag his nose along the inside of your thigh. "Ah— Soshiro, that tickles!"

"They make your legs look good," he continues, as if you hadn't spoken. You raise up on your elbows to glare down at him as he brushes his lips featherlight against your thigh. Soshiro smirks and turns his head to nip the skin there, kissing and sucking along your thigh as he slings your leg over his shoulder for easier access.

Oh, shit.

The whine you let out would be embarrassing except that Soshiro mutters a curse and shoots you a look that makes your core clench tight. You reach for his hands, desperate for some leverage or an anchor, and he lets you take one of his hands but uses the other to hike your other leg over his shoulder.

"This is cute," Soshiro remarks, looking intently at your panties and the damp spot clearly evident even in the dim light. "Were they expensive?"

What is he asking? Why would it matter when the only thing you can focus on is the incessant ache in your core, inches away from his touch, heartbreakingly empty and wet and hot —

Soshiro rips your panties with one hand and tosses the flimsy scraps of cloth aside, exposing your fluttering core to his hungry gaze. You shift desperately, torn between wanting and wanting to hide, but before you can voice a request Soshiro dips in and licks you.

"Oh, fuck —" you moan, collapsing back on the bed as your hips buck up into the friction. Soshiro licks at you sloppily, digging his tongue into every inch and fold of you as he groans.

"All this for me?" he murmurs, catching your eye as you clutch desperately at the blankets. "Only for me, right, melon drop?"

You nod shakily as he gently kisses the throbbing bundle of nerves at your core. "I'm yours, Soshiro," you gasp. The waves of pleasure building in your body are frightening, your heart pounding hard, but you can't help tilting your hips closer to him. "Please, Soshiro — I… I can't —"

"Hah — fuck you," Soshiro groans. "Hold on to me."

You barely get a moment to register his command before he dives back in, targeting your clit and sucking on it as you sob with pleasure. White hot electricity races through your veins as you scrabble desperately for something to hold on to, grabbing at the purple strands of his hair and rocking your hips as he devours you.

You feel the burning touch of his finger as he drags it along your lower lips, making you suddenly hyper aware of how empty you feel. Your insides clench futilely, your fingers twisting into his hair painfully as you moan and beg. "Soshiro, Soshiro please —"

You can hear the squelch of your wetness as he finally slides his finger inside you, poking and prodding your walls until he presses against something that makes you see stars. Your back bows off the bed as you pant and squirm.

"There ya go," he grunts, pulling back to fix you with a burning red stare. "Let go for me, honey. I've got you."

You clench around his finger as he adds another, the intrusion unfamiliar but welcome, pleasure spiraling and spiking through you as he flicks his thumb over your clit and presses against that spot just right. It's — it's too much — too overwhelming —

Soshiro sucks your clit between his lips again and you shoot over the edge with a shout.

"Good fucking girl," Soshiro murmurs. You can barely hear him beyond the fuzzy aftershocks, but the words bleed warmth into your face as you melt into the mattress. He carefully licks you clean, chuckling when you whine at the overstimulation.

"Soshiro?"

"Yeah?" He climbs back over you, the lower half of his face shiny with wetness. It should be gross, but you're so boneless you can't even bring yourself to care as he leans down to kiss you, tongue tangling with yours as you moan at the taste of yourself.

"Where'd you… where'd you learn how to do that?" you mumble tiredly.

"In my dreams," Soshiro says, laughing when you pout at him. "I've been dreaming 'bout you for ages, y'know. But most of the technical stuff was from locker talk with the guys."

You nod and glance down, but the angle is awkward and you can't quite see —

"Ah, don't worry 'bout me," Soshiro ducks his head and you stare at the pink flush rising up his neck. "I'm gonna hafta meet you at the ballroom, hazelnut. I need a change of pants."

"Oh," you nod, wide eyed and blushing as he snorts. "Sorry?"

"Don't apologize for bein' a dream come true," he says. "But we should really go soon, or the captain'll have both our heads."

Soshiro helps you stand on wobbly legs as you regain your balance on heels, kneeling to smooth your dress back down your thighs. "Wait — what about my panties?"

He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Right, I'll help ya with that."

Soshiro's touch is warm this time, not burning hot, and the kisses he presses along your thighs are more ticklish than anything. He grins up at you as you giggle. "Will we tell Captain Ashiro after the party tonight?"

He rises and his gaze goes to your neck and shoulders, exposed by the straps of your dress. Something sharp and pleased settles in his smile. "I don't think we'll need to worry 'bout it. Any fool who gets close to ya when you're marked up all pretty for me is askin' for trouble."

… What?

You look past him to the mirror and gasp. All those little bites from earlier are blooming pink and purple beneath your skin. Soshiro laughs, swoops forward to kiss your scolding right out of your mouth, and pulls away only after you've melted back into his arms, pliant and breathless.

"You passed inspection, by the way," Soshiro adds, smiling a little lopsided and fond. "Congratulations on becoming the Third Division Vice Captain's fiancée."

Your eyes widen. "Fiancée?"

"Oh, too soon? We can start off with 'girlfriend' first."

"Soshiro…"

"What? A guy's got dreams, alright?"

You laugh. "You didn't even propose!"

"Alright, fine," he kisses you again and you beam, delight and happiness swooping through you at how easy it all feels. "Keep that third finger on your left hand empty for me, apricot."

"It's a promise."

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Hallow'seams

A Seams Halloween special oneshot

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: A spicy T

Summary: Joel proves to you that he can be adventurous if he wants to be.

Warnings: Joel wears a slutty Halloween costume, fluff, mentions of drinking, spicy thoughts but nothing explicit, no use of Y/N

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: I was so looking forward to writing this Seams Halloween special that I floated back in the summer. Unfortunately, life™ happened - I've had a very rough month and honestly I didn't think I had it in me to do any writing for the rest of this year, but then this happened! I woke up thinking about Joel wearing a Gladiator costume and couldn't put it down. It's not as long or intricate as my original idea, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. I've missed these two so much!

Thank you for sticking with me and giving me so much love, I really don't deserve you all 🧡 Happy Halloween!

Joel pushes open the door to the High Street Outfitters, one booted foot steps over the threshold -

And he stops and stares.

Pumpkins of all sizes, some more crudely carved than others, seem to occupy every conceivable surface. Black cat and broomstick decals adorn the worn wooden walls, while hand-pulled cotton cobweb the ceilings.

When his feet unstick and move into the empty shop, he nearly topples a huge cauldron of what looks like homemade candy. Steadying it with his hands, he mutters under his breath. 'What the f-'

He would never admit it, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when you emerge from the studio with a dramatic flutter of the curtain divider. 'Oh hey, you're here!'

Stepping towards you, he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a hello, and gestures. 'You really went all out, hmm?'

Your grin brims with pride, and he feels his lips stretch into an answering smile as you straighten up some of the costumes on a nearby rack.

'We found a Halloween shop nearby a few years back,' you explain. 'All their stock was still in boxes in the store room, so we took everything and ran with it. It's a lot of work every year, but the kids have so much fun with it, it's definitely worth it.'

Joel hums skeptically. 'Not just the kids have fun, from what I heard.'

You cross your arms and play coy. 'What have you heard?'

'That my brother hosts the rowdiest Halloween party in town for the adults every year, and tonight is their last hurrah before the baby comes.'

You chuckle. 'And I'm guessing you fought the costume and lost?'

'There’s no winnin’ when your sister-in-law plays the pregnancy card,' he grumbles with poorly concealed fondness.

You walk him towards the racks near the cashier. 'Here are the men's costumes. We run a pay what you want system for Halloween rentals, just pop your contribution into that pumpkin on the counter. You better hurry though, things start kicking off around seven tonight.'

Joel combs through the outfits half-heartedly, when a standalone clothes rack on the other side of the room, covered with a black sheet, catches his eye. 'And what's that?'

You hesitate, and stutter, 'Oh, um - you won’t like those.'

Arching an eyebrow, he stares down at you. 'Why is that, sweetheart?'

The endearing way you wring your hands and worry your bottom lip brings him right back to when he first met you. Your shyness has always provoked a reaction from him - an understanding at first, from the introvert in him. Then protectiveness, when he started spending time with you.

And now, knowing you the way he does, with you opening up to him over the past few months, he lets his mouth relax into a half-smirk, one hand curling around your waist to pull you into his side as he teases, 'Use your words, Pin.'

You huff, recognising the playfulness in his body language, but you still struggle to get the words out. 'They’re - um, damnit - they're adventurous.'

He sets his face in a mock stern expression. 'And what, I’m too borin' for them?'

Narrowing your eyes at him, which makes him grin, you deadpan, 'It's just - they're not your thing, ok? They're of the -' you pause, and gesture in air quotes. 'Occupational variety.'

Comprehension dawns on him, and he drawls, 'Ah, you mean slutty costumes.'

He can feel your skin heat at his words as you duck your head, and he teases, voice low and gruff by your ear. 'And will you be wearin' somethin' slutty for me tonight, sweetheart?'

Your breath hitches and your lips part, eyes glassy at the turn of the mood. 'Joel -'

He isn't a particularly spiritual man, but the longer he lives, the more he’s convinced that some people are put on earth for a reason.

And Lucy's raison d'etre is to cockblock him at every turn.

The door bursts open with a brash energy that is uniquely hers (with an uncanny resemblance to Ellie's), and your best friend doesn't skip a beat at the sight of the pair of you canoodling. 'Save the making out for later, Miller. We gotta go get ready Pin, c’mon!'

You hastily press a kiss to his whiskered cheek. 'Pick your costume and lock up behind you, ok? I'll see you in a bit.'

Lucy all buts hauls you out of the shop, throwing over her shoulder. 'See ya later, Miller! You better show up half naked!'

Curiosity getting the better of him, Joel pulls back the sheet from the clothes rack, and his eyebrows reach for his softly graying hairline. Leafing through the options, he pauses somewhere in the middle, and smiles to himself.

He’ll show you adventurous.

Maria and Tommy's Halloween party is easily the most anticipated event in the Jackson social calendar. Illicit incentives often swap hands for a RSVP, with those unfortunate enough to be assigned patrol duties on the night willing to pay handsomely for a swap in shifts.

While the kids are knocked out at home from eating their body weight in sugar, the Tipsy Bison is teeming with townsfolk. The normally dark interiors are decked out floor to ceiling in garish black and orange, as if people wouldn't get the memo.

Joel was apprehensive on his arrival, pausing for a moment outside the double doors of the establishment to steel himself. But as soon as he crosses the threshold into the warm and boisterous bar, so loud that his right ear rings, he realises that his worries are completely unwarranted.

No one even bats an eyelid as he wades through the throngs of partygoers, nodding politely at acquaintances who drunkenly shout his name and raise a pitcher in greeting.

It's pure madness - Halloween stopped existing for him twenty years ago. The last time he went to a Halloween party was their neighbour's barbeque. He still remembers the Gryffindor costume he bought Sarah, and how big she smiled swishing around in her robe, casting gibberish spells on her friends all night.

This, however, is a distinctly grownup affair.

When he put on his costume and stood in front of the mirror an hour ago, he could barely look at his own reflection. But now, compared to others in the room, turns out his choice is almost demure.

He only saw Gladiator once when it came out a couple of years before the outbreak, but he liked it, and when he saw the costume on the rack, he picked it out straight away.

The dark red cape sits on his shoulders and drapes across half of his torso - shirtless, of course - baring his right arm. He's a bit self-conscious about the skirt (he's sure there's a name for it but the packaging didn't shed light on this), which sits mid-thigh, fastened by a belt around his waist. He's even wearing the Roman sandals and leather bracelet, and a plastic sword hangs from his belt - the full monty.

The vain side in him thinks he can pull it off, but more importantly -

He wore it for you.

But you're nowhere to be seen, even after he grabs a beer from the counter, having circled the bar twice. Spotting a lone empty chair at a high table, he decides to perch (pulling down his skirt so his boxers don't show) while he has a drink and looks for you.

His keen eyes scan the room methodically. Sexy witches, slutty lumberjacks, misbehaving firemen, naughty nurses - together with the noise, everyone and everything seems to blur into one, and he almost gives up when something familiar crosses his line of sight.

Joel frowns.

Hold up. That toolbelt looks familiar. His eyes narrow as he squints at the worn faded leather.

It is his toolbelt. The toolbelt that disappeared from his garage workshop a couple of days ago that Ellie swears she knows nothing about. That little shit.

Then his gaze pulls back, like a camera zooming out, and he finds that the toolbelt is sitting on the soft swell of a pair of hips, over short denim cut-offs that he's sure he's seen before, and below a red flannel. His red flannel, knotted at the waist, that he knows you sleep in every night.

His chest rumbles with something primal, and he downs the rest of his beer in one big gulp before slamming the empty pint glass on the table and getting onto his feet.

You don’t see him coming, but you know without turning around the moment a pair of strong hands close over your hips in a possessive grip, pulling you towards the bathroom in the back of the bar.

He knocks a breathless laugh out of you when he pushes you up the closed door, the noise of the party muted by the thick timber as you grin up at him, preening at the way his dark gaze rakes over your costume.

A shiver runs down your spine as your own undoubtedly dilated eyes follow the solid outline of his right arm, which flexes as he rests his palm on the door behind you, then down his broad chest and the soft belly he’s so nonchalantly putting on display.

It’s absurd, you know - it’s just a tacky Halloween costume, but the seams of your eyes prickle as you muse how comfortable he is in his own skin.

'And what exactly are you dressed up as?' he asks, sliding his free hand under the toolbelt to squeeze your ass.

'A slutty contractor,' you answer boldly, dragging your index finger down his bare chest. 'Isn't it obvious?'

'And you thought stealin' my toolbelt for your little costume was a good idea?' he growls.

'Well, I didn't know you'd turn up as a gladiator of all things,' you tease, wrapping your fingers around the hilt of his plastic sword.

It should not make his pulse spike like this.

'Not only that, sweetheart. I'm a slutty gladiator, thank you very much,' he retorts, walking into you to slot his hips flush against yours.

You shoot him a loaded smirk that instantly has his boxers shrink by two sizes. Ripping his cape off his shoulders, you ask cheekily, ‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'

Joel doesn't let you finish your sentence, swallowing the rest of it with a kiss so deep that it steals your voice and takes out your knees in one fell swoop.

Grinning at the way you're already bonelessly slumped against him, he winks, nose brushing yours. 'I can think of a few things, sweetheart.'

Note: Thank you for reading! I had so much fun dipping my toe back into the Seams universe, I hope you did too. This is me warming up with a view of returning to writing for the series proper, fingers crossed sometime soon! Comments/reblogs/asks are very much appreciated as always 🧡

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the adorably spooky dividers!

[nightlyrequiem]

It’s my first time sending ideas so sorry if I’m not clear enough 😔.

I have a vague idea of Valeria x fem! Reader being on an arranged marriage, readers family owed big money to el sin nombre therefore your fam didn’t had enough to pay desperate for forgiveness Valeria offers taking you instead and leaving your loved ones alone. You were feisty at first not fond of the idea until you knew you were trapped without a way out, accepted your destiny, it wasn’t that bad at the end you had a luxury and power. U can add smut if your write too 🤭..

-🦋🦂

Hi! This is such a fun idea. I've always wanted to try my hand at writing the arranged marriage trope. If it were me being married off to Valeria, I'd fold so fast, can't even lie. That woman has me in a chokehold. Also, so sorry this took me a bit, life finds a way of getting in the way 😔

This is also longer than the one-shots I typically write. About 3019 words :3

Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, kidnapping, WLW, Smut ✂️

In Sickness and in Health

Your relationship with your parents has never been great. Not bad, but not what it should or could be. They never treated you horribly, didn't scream at you or beat you as a child. They just kind of left you alone. They cared, in some way. But deep down you know you'll never come first to them. You've never come first for anyone. Which is why you're feeling a little confused when one day, your parents start really paying attention. Feeding you healthy meals, Booking doctor's appointments. Inquiring about where you've been. You're a little old for them to be trying to parent you. You've been saving up money to move out of town, your brain is only a few years short of full development.

You like the attention though. It feels good to be noticed and worried after. To look into your mother's eyes and see interest instead of boredom is something you could get used to. One Saturday night your parents sat you down in the living room and told you to pack everything you'd need for a long vacation. Your father had been saving up money so you could travel Europe together. Your mother didn't seem as excited as you expected her to be but who are you to deny yourself the chance to experience Europe? So many countries you could visit. Austria, Romania, Czechia? With your parents no less. Maybe things will be different. You can still have a good relationship with them.

You're confused when you get home from work one night a few weeks later to see a woman and three suspiciously dressed men. The balaclavas unnerve you, but your parents are sitting in the living room with them calmly. There is of course a hint of unease identifiable in their body language but there's no sense of urgency. Everyone's head turns to look at you, much to your discomfort. You're still wearing the skimpy waitress uniform from the club you work at. Your steps slow to an insecure stop. The woman drags her gaze over your body.

"Am I interrupting something?" You ask awkwardly. You don't like the look of these people.

"No, Honey." Your mother murmurs. Giving you a strained smile. "Come in and have a seat, we have some... some things to discuss."

You can tell by the tone of her voice that whatever it is, isn't good. Reluctantly you walk into the living room. Sitting down next to your mother. She puts a heavy hand on your shoulder but doesn't look at you.

"This is Valeria." She says quietly. "Valeria, this is my daughter." She says your name. You glance at your dad, confused by the situation. He also refuses to meet your gaze. staring ahead stoically. Valeria smiles and offers her hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you." Her tone is light and friendly. You still don't trust her.

"Sure." You nod. Taking her hand and shaking it. It's softer than you were expecting. Your mother gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Valeria asks. You feel a hint of dread. 

"No."

Valeria turns to your mother. "Why don't you tell her?" She says.

You also turn to look at your mother. Your brows furrowing. Your mother sighs and rubs her hands like they're cold.

"Your father and I..." She trails off. "We made a mistake." You stay quiet, letting her continue. "And we owe some money to some..." She casts a furtive look at Valeria. "Some dangerous people."

You frown. You don't have to ask to know it's the cartel. Although, they seem to be pretty civil. The situation isn't so dire. Not yet anyway. "Is that how you're able to afford this sudden vacation?" You ask. "You borrowed money?"

"There isn't a vacation." Your father pipes up. You turn your head to look at him, confused.

"You cancelled it?" You ask him, feeling disappointed. Unless the money hasn't already been spent you don't know why you can't go anyway.

"No, there wasn't one to begin with." He clarifies.

"You had me pack for one." You reply sharply. Time and time again they'll never fail to disappoint you.

Valeria leans back.

"A vacation?" She murmurs, raising a groomed brow. "It's one thing to not tell your daughter, but to get her to pack her things under false pretenses? You're colder than I thought." She sounds amused, which only adds to the growing pit of dread in your stomach.

"What are you talking about?" You snap. Addressing everyone. "Why did I pack? What's going on?" Neither of your parents will look at you but your dad answers your question.

"You'll be leaving with Valeria."

His quiet words stun you. A warm, soft hand grabs yours and you look at it's owner. Valeria has her eyes narrowed at you. "I'll take good care of you." She promises.

You rip your hand from hers like you were burned.

"What do you mean?" You grit out. You're confused and everyone's answers are only giving you more questions.

"Valeria has agreed to forgive our debt in exchange for you." Your mother whispers.

"I am not a bartering piece. What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at her. Hurt and afraid. You don't want to go with this woman. Your mother looks up at you with sorrowful eyes.

"They would've killed us." She says. "You understand it's between life and death, right? Please, just do this for us." Just do this for us. What have they ever done for you? Why are you paying for their irresponsible actions?

"No." You snap. "You don't get to ignore me for my entire life and then demand that I sacrifice myself for you." 

"You don't have much of a choice." Valeria says casually. She crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a cold look. "I'm taking you regardless of what you want."

You level her with a stubborn glare.

"You'll have to drag me out kicking and screaming." You mutter. Already you hate this smug woman. 

Valeria simply shrugs. "That can be arranged." Suddenly one of the big, masked men descends upon you. Roughly hauling you to your feet. You gasp and struggle. Kicking and squirming. You're much weaker than you thought. "Bring her to the car." 

"Put me down!" You cry out. You make it as hard as you can. Dragging your feet and thrashing. You try to wrap your ankles around a chair leg, but he just gives you a sharp yank, dislodging you.

You're rudely shoved into the back of a nondescript black car. You swiftly pull back your fingers back as he slams the door, narrowly avoiding having them crushed. You stare at your dark reflection in the tinted window, you're in shock. In the span of ten minutes your life has changed. You try to open the door but to no one's surprise it's locked. You look towards the front. There's a man in the driver's seat scrolling on his phone. You know better than to ask him for help.

You look around. This isn't happening. You scoot to the other door but just before you touch the handle it swings open. You startle and back up against the other side. Valeria gets in beside you. Calm and pleased, like the cat who caught the canary.

"Your bags are in the other car." She says to you. "If there's anything you're missing just let me know."

"My freedom and rights." You growl. Valeria gives you a small smile.

"Cute. That attitude will get old fast though." She remarks. She buckles herself in and tells the driver to go.

The silence is heavy and foreboding. You can't stand it, and you can't stand not knowing why she's doing this to you.

"Why did you take me?" You ask.

"Because I wanted you." She says simply. Wanted you. Like you were a nice coat or necklace she saw in a shop window.

"What are you going to do to me?" You question. All kinds of grim possibilities flash through your mind.

"You're very inquisitive." Valeria mutters. Turning to look out her window.

"Answer me." You demand. Valeria sighs.

"We are going to get married. Your parents owe me money, but I've been watching you and I've decided that you'd make a fair exchange."

Her words give you pause. "Marriage? You've been stalking me?" You don't know which one you want to be more upset over.

"No, watching." She corrects. "I frequent the club you work at for business, and I see you all the time."

"So that means you have to force me into a marriage with you? What's the point?" You snap at her.

Valeria scoffs at you. "Having a pretty woman waiting at home for you is a big morale booster."

You scowl at her.

"I'm not marrying you. You can't do this." You say angrily. "This is kidnapping, it's not legal." The town passes by through the windows. Buildings become less and less frequent.

"No?" Valeria replies irately. "Really? Kidnapping is illegal?" She sounds annoyed. As if your distress is inconveniencing her.

"You can't do this to me!" You raise your voice. Valeria's hand shoots out quick as a snake strike to grab your face roughly. Squishing your cheeks painfully.

"I can do whatever the hell I want, and I'm going to let you know right here right now that I will not tolerate your whining." She says with a dangerously quiet voice. 

The rest of the drive passes by in a blur. The car finally stops outside of a nice-looking house, and you're ushered out by Valeria. She drapes an arm over your shoulder. You shrug it off, but she just puts it back on you. Pulling you close with more force than she needs to. A warning. She leads you to the large front doors. Staying on the stone pathway bisecting the yard. Wild plants and cacti sprout up from the dry ground. You don't get much time to observe the scenery as you're dragged inside.

Even the way the lights illuminate the foyer are wealthy. The floors are polished and clean. The door rug is also somehow clean. Even the side tables are matching. Not at all like the mismatched furniture at your house. The men drop off your bags and leave. Closing the door behind them. Valeria lets you take it all in for a few seconds before speaking.

"Do you want something to eat, or do you want to take a shower first?" Valeria asks you, taking off her shoes and neatly arranging them off to the side.

"I want to go home." You reply.

"You are home, pasta or stir-fry?" 

You scowl at her. "I'm not touching anything you make."

"Then you can go hungry." She shrugs. "The bedroom is upstairs, feel free to use anything in the bathroom.

You started eating after a few days. It felt like a betrayal to yourself, but you were growing weak. You refused to sleep in the bed. Instead bunkering down in the living room. Getting your sleep on the couch. Every day Valeria tried to interact with you and build some kind of a bond and every day you met her efforts with hostility. Everything was much less... eventful than you thought it was going to be. Even the wedding, which wasn't really a wedding. She just took you down to the courthouse where you signed the papers. No dress, no celebration, nothing.

Valeria was also so much more respectful than you thought she was going to be. She uttered a few threats here and there, but nothing came of it. She didn't beat you or force you into bed. You had free reign of the house and occasionally she'd give you things. You pretended you didn't care. That you didn't want anything she got you, but when she was gone you found yourself trying on the clothes and jewelry she bought you. Admiring the way they looked on you. Valeria... wasn't as bad as you thought.

You spent the day on the couch. Stuffing your face and rotting your brain with reality TV. Valeria made you quit your job. You were pissed about it. In no way did you want to be financially dependent on her, but you didn't have a choice. The argument that followed was loud and a little violent. You screamed at each other and threw things. Now that you've taken the time to rest and relax, you think you were a little too harsh. You check the time, noting that it's going to be another few hours before she returns. The dust has settled into an uneasy peace between the two of you. You get up and walk into the clean kitchen. You'll make her an apology dinner. You still don't appreciate her kidnapping you and forcing you into a marriage but it's not that bad. You don't have to work, don't have to worry about money, really what else could you want?

Valeria returns home just as you finish cooking. You nervously watch her walk into the kitchen and lean against the door frame with her arms crossed.

"Smells good." She compliments. You carefully divide the portions up between the two of you.

"Yeah, thought I'd make supper this time." You reply. Placing the plates at opposite ends of the table. You take your seat and look at her. Valeria regards you with caution.

"It's not poisoned, is it?" She asks. You're a little offended but you can't blame her for being wary. Not with how hostile you've been.

"No." You say. "... I wanted to apologize for how I've been acting." Even though your feelings are more than reasonable. Valeria slowly nods and rounds the table, sitting down. 

You begin to hungrily eat but Valeria picks at her food. Clearly not reassured that you didn't do something. Your first instinct is to lash out and get angry but that will get you nowhere. 

"Pass me your bowl." You say. 

"Why?" Valeria asks, furrowing her brows.

"Just do it." You sigh. Valeria slides her bowl over to you from across the table. You make pointed eye-contact as you lift her spoon to your mouth, eating from it. You slide it back. Hoping she decides to eat now.

You finish before she does, just watching her as she eats.

"This is really good." Valeria murmurs between mouthfuls. 

"Thank you." You say, relaxing. "I was just making stuff up as I go." 

Valeria finishes and gets up, taking both bowls to the sink. "You should cook more often." She hesitates by the sink. Watching you. You've been pretty lonely lately, has Valeria always looked that good? Her hair is a little messy and her dark brown eyes are half-lidded. Your eyes rove over her tan, toned forearms and the tattoos that decorate them. You stand and join her by the sink with the excuse of washing the bowls. She doesn't move and your arms brush. Your skin tingles at the contact. You can feel her staring holes into the side of your head.

Valeria clears her throat.

"I got you something." She says, reaching into her back pocket. "Hold out your hand." She gently drops a necklace into your waiting palm. The delicate chain feels cold. You pick it up and look at it. "I found it on the ground, it reminds me of you." 

You frown and look up at her. "Should I be offended?"

Valeria smiles with amusement. "No, it was glinting in the sunlight."

"And that made you think of me?" You murmur dryly. She leans in a little closer.

"Yeah, it was just another thing on the ground, but it shined and caught my attention."

"That's really stupid." You say. Closing your hand around it. You two stare at each other.

Your back hits the wall with a dull thud as Valeria's lips press against yours. You don't remember taking it off, but your shirt is on the floor, the soft fabric protecting your bare feet from the cold. Valeria's hands fumble with her own shirt before you're both left in your bras. Her hand runs down your waist. Savoring the feel of your skin. You grab her shoulders and back her up into the hallway leading into the living room. Her legs hit the edge of the couch. She drags you down, maneuvering herself on top of you. She breaks the kiss to hurriedly slide your pants off of you, wasting no time in palming the heat between your thighs.

Her own pants don't stay on for much longer. Joining yours in a small, crumpled heap beside the couch, your underwear not far to follow. She presses her dripping cunt against yours, making you see stars with how hard she's grinding down. The room is filled with a cacophony of moans and grunts.

"I knew you'd come around." Valeria pants. "You're so good for me, making me dinner, I wish I could get you pregnant."

You feel yourself throb at the comment. "Fuck." You whine. Valeria's tits demand your attention. Bouncing in your face with each movement. Your hands smooth over her bare back, dragging over her shoulder blades and onto her chest. Valeria grunts as you give them a gentle squeeze, watching the full flesh spill through your fingers.

You shift your legs so you can wrap them around her hips. In turn, Valeria leans down to bury her face into the crook of your neck, biting and kissing you. Your hips buck up to meet hers, your clits dragging against each other. Your orgasm slams into you and you go rigid. A high gasp leaving your parted lips. Valeria isn't too far behind you. Her rhythm breaks but she doesn't still with her climax. She grinds into you, keeping the pleasure up for as long as possible.

She finally slows to a stop and lays her entire weight on you, Sweaty and breathing heavily. 

"Good girl." She whispers. Kissing your neck. One of her hands settles on the side of your face. "Does this mean you're starting to like me?"

You consider her words. This was really just a way to release pent up energy. But, she sounds almost vulnerable and if you're being honest with yourself there's something more than lust making sparks in your stomach. "...I could." You reply softly. "Like you. I think I could do that." Valeria lifts her head and plants a soft kiss onto your lips. Her silent way of acknowledging your words. Maybe this marriage will be a good thing.

[rowretro]

If your requests are open, can I get hard yandere Jake or Ni-Ki where they punish reader for escaping and staying with one of their friends?

𝕺𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌…

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, mentions of blood, manipulation(?), shirtless-ish riki, somewhat gore, mentions of sex

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"Oh my sweet little y/n... I knew you were stupid but for you to be this stupid?!..." Riki tutted, a mocking pout on his lips, his shirt drenched with the blood of someone you called a friend. He barely knew you, yet he befriended you just because he knew you were in the danger of Riki. Your stupid self just had to believe Riki wouldn't know that the motherfucker would be keeping you in his house.

He was pissed. No he was beyond pissed, words can not explain how bad of a decision she made. Riki wasn't too into murdering people or ripping them apart, but for her? god a little blood on his hands was nothing let alone stabbing a dagger with her name encrypted into this so called friend of hers? heck he could even leave the body out because not even a family member was there to want him.

"Oh well... he lived a miserable life anyway.... this was your fault y/n. You know better than to trust a strangers word over mine. Fuck the fact you trusted another man. went into his house. wore his shirt. AND FUCKING LEFT ME?!" He finally yelled causing her to flinch, he stabbed him crazily as you screamed for him to stop, tears streaming down her cheeks. "STOP CRYING FOR HIM!" he screamed, slapping her painfully on her cheek.

he knelt down before her dark eyes, peircing into her as he groaned, he threw off his shirt "Mother fucker got his filthy blood all over my comfortable t-shirt. The one you should be wearing right now." he sharply said. The man was pissed. He slapped her yet again, ripping off the T-shirt she wore as she carried her and dropped her in the bathtub.

He didn't care that it was hurting her, he turned the tap on as he applied soap to the sponge and aggressively rubbed on her skin. "I know you wouldn't sleep with him. But you still hugged him. You still went in his house and sat on his rubbish sofa. Fuck imagine all the germs in that shithole you went to." He spat as he chucked the sponge at her and yanked her hair. "Clean yourself up and go to bed." He simply said before leaving the restroom.

"Oh no... I hurt my poor y/n oh sweetie... You need to know what you did is awful... you need to feel the pain I did... but I won't make it hurt as much as you hurt me because I love you... you can tell me anything.... did you have sex with this fucker?! is that why you're wearing his ugly shirt?!!!" Riki asked, as She stared in horror, and disgust. Riki chuckled

That very night, was the first time Riki hurt her, though it hurt him more to hurt her. He stepped out of the shower, smiling as he saw Y/n sitting on his bed, wearing his sweater, how it fell just off of her shoulder, her tears gone as she reached out to hug him, she just needed comfort... and she accepted her fate.

"So cute, I know you won't do something like that with some low life... awww my sweet innocent y/nie, so vulnerable and gullible, sweetheart, he's a pervert, he lied to you, he did this so he can use your precious body. You know I've never done and never will do that you know why? because I love you..." Riki explained as he cradled her in his arms.

He palnted soft kisses on her face "Oh my poor darling y/n... don't ever leave me... I can't live without you!" He said as Y/n placed a soft kiss on his plump lips, giving into his toxic love. She can't help it though... isn't it a good thing that he'd even kill for her?.... so many men have only hurt her, humiliated her or wanted to hook up with her but Riki... Riki loves her...

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[starry-eyes-love]

Darlin', You're Beautiful

Pairing | Best Friend Joel Miller x Curvy F!Reader, AU (no outbreak)

Summary | After having been stood up from another date yet again, you went to the park with Joel Miller, your best friend, to hang out. You're lost in your own head, not believing that you're beautiful when Joel reminds you of where beauty truly lies, from within.

Warnings | 18+ Minors DNI, age gap (she's mid 20s, he's early 40s), reference to reader being curvy, language, self esteem issues and discussions, terms of endearment (honey, sugar, baby, darlin'), heavy kissing, sexual tension a bit, brief reference to smut, fluff.

Word Count:  2.6K

A/N: This one comes from a space that's been taking up my personal headspace for far too long. She’s a little emotional, but that’s ok. Remember, beauty comes from within. Enjoy :) 

Joel's words lingered in the air, “baby, I’ve wanted you for so fucking long,” he whispered, while slowly thrusting inside of you. He was giving you a gentle reminder that beauty, true beauty, was seen from inside a person's soul. 

Main Masterlist

Joel leaned back against the old oak tree in the park, the soft rustle of the leaves above him providing a calming backdrop. His heart was pounding in his chest, nerves taking root in his body. Man, she’s beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.  And you were, you were beautiful.  You were beautiful because you had a beautiful soul.  

For all of your life, you didn’t believe that you were beautiful.  Society had a specific version of what beauty was, and you felt like you never lived up to that expectation. You were not skinny with a flat stomach, you had a little bit of a tummy on you.  You were sitting in the park, watching the Texan sunset with your best friend, Joel Miller, and you were silently scolding yourself yet again. Your second date with a guy last night didn’t go as planned, the man never showed up.  Somehow once guys saw that you weren’t the super skinny woman with a big chest, they didn’t want to be with you, and they’d bail on you every chance that they had.  

Joel hated seeing you like this, berating and belittling yourself over not being what boys thought were beautiful.  And that's who you were attempting to date, boys.  Joel, being a man in his early 40s, saw women differently than what men in their 20s did.  You weren’t a baby in life, being in your mid 20s yourself, but the men that you attempted to date were.  They were too egotistical, caring more about getting laid and the final score at the end of the night than treating a woman with any real respect. 

So after sitting with his back against the tree for a bit, and taking in the beautiful Texan sunset, Joel tipped his baseball cap back slightly to look at your face. As he stared at you, he noticed that your once warm eyes that were full of life and happiness, now looked lost. Without giving it another thought, Joel opened his mouth and said the thing that he’s wanted to say to you for a long time. 

"Darlin', there's been somethin' on my mind that I wanted to tell ya," he stated, his voice heavy with that slow Southern drawl.

Glancing over at Joel with curiosity you said, “What is it, Joel?"

While grabbing a blade of grass and beginning to twirl it between his fingers, a nervous habit that he had, he said "well, sugar, I've been thinkin' a lot about the type of men that you’ve been tryin’ to date. And well honey, they’re just little boys. Little boys who think they know what’s right for a woman, but they don’t. They don’t know what’s right for ya.”

You told him “ok” in a voice that you didn't quite recognize as your own, one that was so meek and mild. You weren’t the girl who usually got down on herself so much. But recently it had been too much with being stood up on dates, or just being told no in the most embarrassing and rude way possible.  Usually a few situations like this wouldn’t bother you, but recently, it has become too much. 

Joel, shaking his head, looked back over at you and said “Darlin’, when are ya going to stop believin’ all the garbage these boys say, and start believin’ in something that matters?”

“What matters Joel, huh?” you said, straightening up and shooting him a dirty look with your eyes. This was not the conversation that you wanted to have right now, one that discussed your choices.  Yes, Joel was right, but you didn’t want to hear him say it right now.  You didn’t want him to rub your nose in the fact that you couldn’t seem to pick a good guy to go out with ever. 

“Ya gotta start believin’ it honey, that you’re beautiful, and not waiting on some dumbass guy to say it to you. Y/n, you are beautiful.” Joel said, looking at you tenderly, trying to communicate the feelings that he’s felt for you inside for a long time.

You just stared at Joel, pondering why he would go to this length to say this to you. In the last 5 years that the two of you have been friends, not once did Joel Miller ever say that you were beautiful.  It’s just not something that the two of you have ever talked about before. And if you were being honest, you wondered why now he chose to bring it up. 

"Joel, you're sweet. But come on, let's be real. I'm not exactly the definition of beautiful." you said, looking over at him.

Joel sighed, trying to make you understand what he saw. "You may not see it darlin’, but I do. I see it every time you smile with the way your eyes light up. Or the way you snort when you laugh, especially when you find something really funny. When you talk ‘bout things that you love, I see you open your heart up to the person you’re talkin’ to. Or even that cute little blush that ya get when you get embarrassed. Beauty isn't just about appearance darlin’; it's about the way you carry yourself, the kindness in your heart, and the way you make other people feel."

Shifting uncomfortably, clearly not used to receiving these types of compliments from anyone, but especially a man and your best friend. "Joel, you're exaggerating. I appreciate it, but I'm not the type of girl people describe as beautiful."

Joel once again shook his head. He wanted you to see what he saw, the beauty that you had within you. "That's where you're wrong darlin’. You have this unique charm that goes beyond what people think is beautiful. It's about you being genuine, and baby, you are as genuine as they come."

“Well, I’ve never felt like it.” You looked over at Joel with soft eyes, wanting to believe everything that he was saying to you.

“Well that’s what’s wrong darlin’. You are the best type of beauty possible.  Beauty of the soul. And baby, I can’t get enough of it if I’m being honest.”

“Joel, what are you- what are you saying?” you asked softly, with slight irritation in your voice at how in-depth this conversation has gone. 

Joel scooted closer to you, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m saying that it’s your uniqueness that makes you beautiful darlin’. That it’s something rare to find, that you’re something rare to find. And baby, I find you incredibly attractive because of it."

A soft blush tinted your cheeks at Joel saying that you were attractive. "Do you- do you really mean it?" you asked, trying not to get your hopes up, but secretly hoping Joel was flirting with you.  Sure, you two have been friends for five years, but you’ve secretly have had a crush on Joel Miller ever since the start of your friendship. You didn’t think he’d ever look at you the way that you hoped, that he wanted to be with you in the capacity of being ‘more than friends.’  You always thought that he liked women that didn’t have curves like you did. 

Joel looking at you with hooded eyes said, "Baby, I've spent enough time with ya to know that there's more to beauty than what meets the eye. It's about the way you make people feel, the way you make me feel.  That genuine kindness you show me and others. That’s what makes your truly beautiful darlin’."

A thoughtful silence hung between the two of you, as you absorbed his words. It wasn't that you didn't believe him. But when people, specifically other men, have made you feel less than beautiful for many years, it took its toll. You couldn’t help but slowly start to believe those inappropriate statements by others, when it was others that were constantly saying it to you that they didn’t find you beautiful or sexually attractive. 

"Joel, it's not that I don't appreciate your words, I do. It's just that, it's hard to change when other people are mean for so long, and where they have made me feel less than beautiful as a woman.”

Joel slowly nodded, understanding the depth of your silent struggle. After a moment he said, “I get that darlin'', I do, it's just that-” Joel found himself standing at the precipice of no return with you. After contemplating his choices, he decided to throw caution completely out of the window, and he decided to act on the feelings that he’s had with you for a long time.  Joel leaned forward and cupped your cheek, gently running his thumb up and down it. “If ya don't believe my words darlin'', then please believe this.” He then leaned forward and gently kissed you softly on the mouth.

What started out as a gentle, soft kiss quickly turned heated. You softly whimpered into his mouth when his one hand went to the back of your neck, that spurred something deep inside him. As soon as he heard you moan he took the kiss a step further and gently ran his tongue along the seam of your lips, asking you for access into your mouth. When you opened for him, he dove his tongue in and started a slow caress. Gentle and smooth strokes, back and forth, inside your mouth, against your tongue. You two were doing a slow dance of passion and love behind your kiss. Nothing rushed, just gentle exploration.

When you moaned into his mouth, that’s when caution once again completely went out the window. A switch inside of Joel had flipped, and his kissing became more heated. Joel gripped the back of your head in a firm hold and tilted your chin up so he could lean forward and deepen the kiss into your mouth. It was at this moment that you realized two very important things. One, Joel Miller was an excellent kisser. And two, you wanted to sleep with your best friend really bad.

As you pulled away, gasping for air, you heard Joel let out a low growl. When you looked over at him he had very dark eyes.  His pupils were blown wide, and the air around you two crackled with sexual tension.  Joel moved back towards you and started kissing down your neck, nipping and biting over your pulse points and the areas of your neck that he knew were your most sensitive zones. “No one's ever kissed me like that before” you said, while moaning softly at what Joel was doing.

“That's a damn shame darlin''. A beautiful woman like yourself should be kissed like that all the goddamn time.” He said while sucking on your neck and then running his tongue over the love bite that he just made to soothe it. 

“I want more” you gasped, moaning again at Joel’s minstrations on your neck.

“Good, you should want more.” He said, moving to the other side of your neck and continuing his exploration. Joel was trying to find out what made you moan, squirm, and call out to him; making sure to keep doing that to intensify what he wanted to do again, and that was kiss you once again. He wanted to make sure that you knew without a doubt what he felt for you, and that any real man would know how to make a woman feel beautiful.  And goddamn, you were hot as hell and so sexy that he barely could think straight. 

With a slight smile, you gently shook your head while pulling away from him and finally admitting out loud to him, the thing that has been your biggest secret. “No Joel, I want more from you, with you. I have for a very long time.” You then reached out and gently cupped Joel’s cheek, running your thumb over his patchy beard. 

Joel looked at you with intense eyes, heart pounding hard and fast in his chest at the realization of what you were asking. Finally, after all these years you wanted him the same way that he wanted you. When you two first started hanging out he didn’t think you’d like him in a boyfriend type of way, as all your interactions were more based on friendship than anything else.  Now he felt stupid, hooking up with random women periodically over the years, having you play wingman with him at the bar, thinking that you never wanted more. I’m not gonna fuck this up anymore with her, he thought, focusing on showing you what he wanted.

Joel leaned forward and gently whispered in your ear, “well darlin’, why didn't ya say something. How ‘bout this, I take ya back to my house and show you what a real man does to make a woman feel so fucking sexy. Would you like that baby, for me to show you?”

When Joel pulled back to look at you he saw that you eagerly shook your head yes for him.  He tsked at you while resting his forehead against yours and said with his eyes closed, “Now come on baby, ya know better than that. Use your words, darlin’ tell me what ya want, please.”

When Joel pulled away from you gently, you nodded your head and then leaned in. Your mouth was right next to his ear when you gently whispered “fuck me Joel, that’s what I want. I want this, I want you. Help me forget about all those other men.”

Joel's eyes glazed over at your admittance. Pulling back he whispered “filthy girl” but then gave his own head a little nod, telling you that he understood what you wanted.  When Joel stood up, he reached out to help you up.  As the two of you walked back to his truck, he laced his hand into yours, showing you how much he actually cared. Once inside his truck, Joel kissed you passionately yet again, telling you with his actions of what he intended to do with you when he got back home. As he pulled away he then ran his hand through your hair for a moment, enjoying the quiet intimacy that was present.

 “I'm gonna treat ya right baby, the way you should’ve been treated all along. My only wish is that I wish I would've done this a lot sooner. For that honey, I’m really sorry.” And with that admittance Joel gave you another tender kiss on your lips. Once he settled into the driver's seat of his truck, you silently reached over and took his hand in yours. The 30 minute drive back to his house was done in silence.  But this silence for once wasn’t awkward, nothing with Joel ever was. You didn't know why you didn't see any of this feelings before, but now you were glad that the two of you communicated.

As the sun faded and dipped below the horizon, two souls were intertwined and connected. Joel's words lingered in the air, “baby, I’ve wanted you for so fucking long,” he whispered, while slowly thrusting inside of you. He was giving you a gentle reminder that beauty, true beauty, was seen from inside a person's soul. Joel spent the rest of his life, and yours, reminding you of this. And with each reminder it always ended the same way, you two wrapped up into each other’s arms. He told you each and every day how much he loved you, both inside and out, with saying just one simple sentence, “Darlin’, you’re beautiful.”  And you were, you were beautiful both inside out. Not because a man told you, but because you finally started to believe it yourself. 

The End

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

[blingblong55]

The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations: 

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

---------------------- 

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. 

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw. 

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms. 

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death. 

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart. 

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future. 

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours. 

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told. 

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left. 

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force. 

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war. 

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs. 

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware. 

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him. 

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem. 

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it. 

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband. 

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear. 

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you. 

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ] 

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun. 

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover. 

--

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break. 

--

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them. 

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband. 

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence. 

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy. 

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states. 

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased. 

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

[tiredfox64]

Omg I just read the pipsqueak story, plzzz can I suggest g/t story's where the reader is shrunken down maybe with the other lin kuei bros or the farmer boys or even liu kang xxx. You can decide the prompt. But seriously. That was one of the best g/t stories I've ever read in my life😭❤️❤️🫂 📚. Thank you so much for writing it.

Hats Off to You

Yip notes: The best?!?! Nooooo, it couldn’t possibly be :3. As a furry I think I will always be weary of g/t and I won’t elaborate on that point.

Pairings: Raiden x Gn reader x Kung Lao

Warnings‼️: Oh dammit I lost you in my LPS bin

Don’t say Liu Kang never warned you three about Shang Tsung. He a tricky and manipulative snake that will do anything to prevent getting captured. It was hard enough getting into Earthrealm, he’s not gonna let you capture him that easily. Treating him like a fool, how dare you!

Liu Kang immediately sent you, Raiden, and Kung Lao out when he detected the sorcerer made his way to Earthrealm. He had no clue what he wanted or what he was here for but he was not gonna wait to see. You and Kung Lao were running in, guns a blazing from the get-go. Raiden was, of course, the responsible one and wanted to catch Shang Tsung off guard. It’s a little hard to do that when Kung Lao throws his hat the moment he saw Shang Tsung’s hair flowing in the wind. It didn’t stick the landing but it did stick to a tree trunk. The poor squirrel inside the trunk, hibernation came early for it.

You three surrounded the sorcerer. His head snapped around, looking for a way to escape. It would not be easy and he’d have to unfortunately use his resources. Whether he killed someone or merely distracted you all didn’t matter to him. He just needed to get out.

Thanks to your bravery and stupidity, you were the first to lunge at him. He turned around at that moment and saw you were a few feet away with your hands held out to tackle him. To your surprise, you saw him lift up his hand and in it was a glass bottle. The cork popped off with ease and he splashed you with the contents of the bottle. He was like a priest with holy water but instead of blessing you he was cursing you with something unknown.

The liquid was thick. It was a headache inducing neon blue. It felt like slime was poured over your head and dripped down the front of your body. It bubbled quickly like thick soup that was getting too hot. Steam emitted from the liquid and grew thicker around you.

What was gonna happen to you? Would you melt into a puddle of your own flesh and blood? Would some fiendish beast grow out of you?

You heard Raiden and Kung Lao yell your name in a panic. They believed you were a goner, you were a poor soul that was met with a terrible fate. Shang Tsung cackled at the display of fear that was present in all of you. You were desperately trying to wipe the liquid off but it only stuck to you more. The steam grew too thick and you felt something change about you. The change, however, wasn’t painful. It was almost quieting as the world around you grew bigger. No, actually it didn’t. The world was normal, you were getting smaller.

The steam cleared and they all saw you. You looked fine except for the fact that you were the size of a Norway rat. Raiden and Kung Lao stared with their mouths open. Shang Tsung narrowed his eyes due to annoyance and to also get a better look at you.

“What!?” He shouted angrily before looking at the bottle.

He looked at the label and saw that this was not a potion that was in anyway harmful. This potion was more built for distractions if anything. Why did he even make such a stupid potion?!

The sound of Shang Tsung’s anger broke the men’s trance and they leaped into action. Raiden quickly ran over to you, kneeling down to scoop you into his hands. Kung Lao launched his razor-brimmed hat at Shang Tsung and it landed. It grazed his arm, making him scream in pain and drop the glass bottle. The hat turned around and made its way back to Shang Tsung in another attempt to cut him. He just narrowly dodged and it flew back into Kung Lao’s hand. He went to throw it again but Shang Tsung used his sorcerer magic to teleport away from the attack. He could be anywhere at that point but that wasn’t their concern. Their concern was you.

“By the elder gods, are you okay? Are you in any pain?” Raiden softly tilted you around on his hand to check for any damages.

You stared down at your tiny hands while looking at Raiden’s fingers that curled up again you. This felt…strange to say the least. You looked at the rest of your body to see if there were any injuries. There were none to see and none to be felt.

“I think I’m fine. But I’m clearly not myself.”

“Hey,” Kung Lao yelled for Raiden’s attention, “He dropped the bottle.”

He leaned down and grabbed the bottle and cork to close it again. There was some liquid still left in the bottle, maybe someone could find a reverse for this potion. An antidote of sorts.

Raiden walked over to him while looking around the area. He let out a sigh of disappointment not because of you but because he couldn’t see Shang Tsung.

“He got away, there is nothing we can do if we don’t know where he is.”

“But Raiden, he couldn’t have gone far. Maybe we can run around and—“

“We can’t focus on that when he shrunk one of our companions. Think of the other potions he could have on hand.”

Kung Lao sighed before looking down at you in the palm of Raiden’s hands. There was a look of pity in his eyes. It shouldn’t have happened. If only he had better aim he could’ve taken Shang Tsung down before you were affected. But there was no point mopping about. Raiden was right. It might be best to go back to the Wu Shi and see if there is anything Liu Kang could do.

“Alright, we should go back and tell Lord Liu Kang what happened. But you might want to put them somewhere other than your hands. You know, with the amulet and stuff.”

Oh, that’s right, Raiden was holding onto his amulet. Probably won’t do you good if you are electrocuted by accident on top of being small. How’d you even miss the large glowing thing?

Raiden looked everywhere on his body for a place to put you but he had no pockets. He would’ve ask Kung Lao to carry you but what if he needed to use his hands to throw his hat? Both the men thought long and hard on how to get back without you possibly getting hurt. Kung Lao snapped his fingers like he had the greatest idea ever.

“Ratatouille!” He yelled.

“No, Kung Lao, no,” Raiden whined, “Why are you thinking about food right now?”

“The movie! Remember the movie that Johnny forced us to watch with the silly rat that cooked.”

The realization hit Raiden and he understood what Kung Lao was suggesting. He looked down at you, waiting to see your reaction. You just stared in some random direction because you were thinking about the fact that they saw you as a rat.

Ah but a rat that can cook, let’s keep that in mind.

“Fine. Put me on your head.” You gave him the go ahead.

Raiden slipped off his straw hat and placed you on top of his head. You hook your hands through the strands of shiny black hair that he neatly had in a bun. He had Kung Lao help him with putting it back on as to not accidentally knock you off. You were covered by his hat, light and air still seeping through the material. It was quite comfortable actually. You could get used to it.

“Are you okay up there?” Raiden asked softly. You gave a light tug that shocked a nerve of his.

“Understood. Let’s get back to the Shaolin for some guidance.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

The Shaolin could not provide any help. Outworld magic is not their business. This would be a job for Liu Kang except he wasn’t in.

You may have lost Shang Tsung but Liu Kang found him soon after. Shang Tsung teleported to the wrong place at the wrong time and was now being hunted down by Lord Liu Kang. He will show no mercy.

You’re forced to wait for Liu Kang to return to have a possible chance of returning to normal. Maybe he can reverse what happened to you or even force Shang Tsung to find a solution. Something, anything would be useful. Oh well, looks like you’ll be stuck as a pipsqueak with two giant bodyguards. Make the most of your time.

Raiden took off his straw hat to let you out finally. Kung Lao picked you up gently and by gently that means he pinched the back of your neck, making you feel paralyzed until he put you in the palm of his hand.

“What do we do now?” He asked Raiden.

“There is nothing we can do. We just have to wait and make sure they stay safe.” He replied while rubbing your cheek with his knuckle.

He wasn’t really thinking about it. It’s just his instincts to do that to any small creature that is near him. And yes, he knows you’re not a creature you are human just like him. But you’re so small how can he not rub those cheeks as you pout about the situation. You can’t say it didn’t feel good to you. His knuckle would occasionally rub more than your cheek like behind your ear and the side of your head. It hit the right spots that could make you feel like you were on ecstasy while also getting sleepy. He left you lying in Kung Lao’s hand all euphoric as he kept rubbing the side of your face. You clearly liked it so he kept going.

You should’ve seen Raiden’s face. He was pointing you out to Kung Lao like you weren’t in his hands. He was pointing you out like you were the most adorable being ever with the way you accepted his pets. Kung Lao stared back at him with a look that screamed “are you being serious?” Look who’s talking.

“You don’t need to patronize them by treating them like a pet.”

“I’m not doing that. What makes you say that?”

“Oh yes you are. You’re petting them like they are a new born kitten. They’re fine.”

“I know they’re fine and I’m not treating them like a pet. They clearly like it.” Raiden pulled his finger away from you to your dismay.

The two bickered about how you should be treated like they what you want. You were jumping on Kung Lao’s hand trying to get Raiden to come pet you again. You didn’t reach that peak where a shiver runs down your spine. What’s the point of being petted like that if you don’t get to the point your brain is mush?

“Don’t I have a say in how I should be treated?!” You yelled, but no one would hear. Story of your life.

You just sat in Kung Lao’s hand with your arms crossed and pure anger in your eyes. You tried to coerce him into petting you by rubbing your face on his thumb. The only thing that you got was his thumb rubbing the top of your head and making you dizzy from the circular motion. Ah forget it, let them argue it out.

Growwwwwwlllllll

A low rumbling was heard by all of you. A growl that begged for food. We all know who could possibly be hungry.

Kung Lao tried to pin it off on you by pointing at you but Raiden smacked his hand away. Ain’t no way your small body made such a loud statement. He let out a sigh before placing his hands on his hips.

“That’s something we can do. We can get some food. Shall we visit Madam Bo?” Raiden suggested.

“Is that even a question?”

Raiden smiled and tried to take you from Kung Lao’s hands but he pulled away. He stared at Raiden like he was out of his mind trying to take you away.

“You got to carry them back it’s my turn now.” He placed you on top of his hat where you had to cling to the dark brown straw straps of it. Guess you’re riding this ride now.

“Weren’t you just arguing with me about treating them like a pet and not a human? You didn’t even let them have a say on who they go with!”

“This is to make it fair since you brought them back and I get to bring them to Madam Bo’s. It evens it out.”

“What are you talking about, evening what out?!”

The monks came around to shush them for being so loud, all that arguing and what not. This is a monastery, have some respect.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Madam Bo was quite shocked that you lost some pounds…and height…you lost a lot. Raiden and Kung Lao had to explain that it was a freak accident and it was in no way their fault. They didn’t want her to smack them thinking it was all their fault.

She was quick to seat you all, you having to sit right on the table. With the amount of food Kung Lao ordered there was no point in having you or Raiden say your orders. He basically ordered for you. And damn near ate your order if Raiden didn’t stop him.

Every bit of food that Kung Lao gave you was too big. A slice of beef would’ve choked you if you tried to take it in. Raiden had to be the one to cut them into smaller pieces for you to eat. It was still a struggle no matter what. Too much meat!

Maybe balance it with some vegetables—KNOCK IT OFF KUNG LAO THAT CARROT IS TOO BIG. A bean sprout is a better option for you. You did look silly chewing on the whole thing. You were like a bunny that was given a long dandelion stem and didn’t stop munching till you got to the end. Raiden had to hold himself back from laughing. Kung Lao did let out a chuckle which resulted in him choking a little.

Ah but the grand entree that took you out was that one soup dumpling. Raiden poked a hole through for you to slurp the broth. It was a constant pattern of blowing on it, slurping, blowing, slurping, feeling the broth flow down your throat, blowing again. It was so good and you managed to drink all the broth but the dumpling itself…no. Yeah, any more food and you’d feel like your belly would combust.

You were left with a satisfied smile on your face as you laid on Kung Lao’s chest. He had that same satisfied look on his face before he burped. It almost scared you off with how loud it was. But what a silly sight for Raiden, watching you both pat your bellies. Maybe having you be small isn’t so bad, it makes things cuter.

You know what isn’t cute? The bill. Madam Bo slammed it down on the table and waited to see who would pay. Uh it clearly wouldn’t be you, you left your wallet behind silly! So it’s up to the men to figure it out.

“Well since I paid last time I think it’s your turn-“ Raiden paused when he saw Kung Lao already getting up from his seat while placing you on his hat, “Hey! Where are you going?”

“I paid the last time we were here.”

“No, you didn’t. Johnny paid for us.”

“That’s not what I remember…”

Oh so that’s how it’s gonna be. Kung Lao gonna twist this situation to get his way. Well Raiden won’t let that slide and unfortunately you are in the middle of this situation.

“I am not paying for all of this.”

“If that’s how it’s gonna be then we might as well handle this man to man.”

Before you could even object to anybody starting a fight in the tea house, Kung Lao already got a grip on his hat. He flung it right at Raiden while he grabbed his amulet. As that hat spun past Raiden, it occurred to them both that you were still on his hat. When did they remember? WHEN YOUR SCREAMS COULD BE HEARD AS YOU PASSED RAIDEN’S HEAD.

The hat luckily circled back before hitting anything. Raiden ducked and Kung Lao quickly caught it with both hands. You were left disheveled and shaking with your hands gripping any part of the hat. You had a death grip on it to make sure death didn’t grip you.

“I’m sorry! That wasn’t intentional at all!” Kung Lao apologized profusely, checking to see if you were hurt physically. You were definitely scarred mentally.

Madam Bo’s voice could be heard as she yelled at the two for causing such trouble. She smack them on the back of their head before making them pay the bill. They BOTH had to pay.

She had to get you this tiny cup of ginger tea to settle your stomach after that ride that you never consented to. The world was still spinning and she had to spoon feed the tea to you while Kung Lao rubbed your back with two fingers.

“I feel sorry for you, having to deal with these thick headed fools,” she was really pitying you, “Are you feeling any better?”

“Bleh”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

When you guys went back to the Wu Shi you were ecstatic to find Lord Liu Kang back. Maybe now you could get answers on how to get back to normal. He even had Shang Tsung captured so maybe he can force him to do something.

Liu Kang stared at you with his glowing eyes. He’s glad you weren’t dead but this was unexpected nonetheless. He really did want to help you…but even his godly powers couldn’t figure this out. Look, it’s hard, don’t get mad at him. The next option was to force Shang Tsung to make an antidote which he never does. Having him even agree to that would be a huge hassle. You will unfortunately stay small for a long time. Get used to it, Raiden and Kung Lao already have.

The moment Liu Kang even said they would have to watch over you, Raiden’s eyes sparkled. That might’ve been actual electricity in his eyes but whatever. He’s more than happy to have you stay this way. It makes it easier for him to squish you against his face and nuzzle you. Whoops, it’s super effective, now you’re paralyzed until he lets you go.

Kung Lao will have to find a better place to put you. You will NEVER go back on his hat again.

Yap notes: I’m weirdly inclined to do g/t fanfic when I’m feeling bad in some way. When I started it my throat was hurting a lot cause of smoke in the air. My throat still be hurting so it must be a curse of some kind ;-; oh well. I hopefully will be getting a Hanzo fanfic done soon cause obviously smoke in the air, lots of fires in my state. Might as well make it comedic to cope. Adiós!

[coolyiooo]

BSD Men - First Time Having S*x Together

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, and Chuuya

❗WARNINGS❗: Smut, MDNI, praise, begging, blowjobs, hand jobs, hickeys, breeding kink, scratching, blood and people dying on Chuuya's part ( not from you or him)

🖤DAZAI🖤

It all started when you and Dazai were taking a midnight stroll around the city. The night let's people tell their deepest thoughts and you both asked some down to earth questions, only deepening your relationship.

You've never felt so sure about spending your life with someone as much as you did now.

He walks you back to your apartment and before he can leave he says "I'm happy to have you in my life, Bella. I really mean it"

He places a hand on your cheek as he stares lovingly in your eyes, you could see the stars of the night sky reflecting on them.

He looks at your lips as you both slowly lean into a gentle, passionate kiss. You both have kissed many times before, but this time it was so much more different. When your lips departed, you heard him pant slightly.

You wanted more from your bf, and kisses and hugs weren't going to be enough.

There were moments when Dazai asked to sleep with you, but you told him you'll let him know when your ready, and of course he respected that.

Tonight felt different. You felt ready.

You clench tightly on his collar as you look into his eyes with a pleading look. In a whisper, you say "I need you, Osamu.."

You placed your hand behind his neck and dragged it up to his hair, gently tugging on it to keep him closer. You heard him gulp.

"Put your hands on me...please" you say nervously

A Stunned look was shown across his face that soon turns soft. He kindly places both of his hands on your cheeks and pulls you into an aggressive kiss. One full of Passion, lust, and love.

You take him inside your apartment and into your room. While you were kissing, both moaning quietly into it, he picks you up and drops you on your bed gently.

He pulls away from the kiss "Are you sure, Bella?" He asked for reassurance

"Yes, I've never felt so sure about anything" you smile as you kiss his lips again

His hands showed eagerness yet you could feel his fingers tremble. He's never been so whipped for someone and it's almost like it's his first time. He felt so out of his element but it's never felt so right either.

It was his first time sleeping with someone he truly cares for and he doesn't want to mess it up for you.

Dazai places himself on top of you, your legs already wrapped around his waist as you unbutton his clothes, later throwing it onto the ground

You caress his body with your hands "Your so pretty, my love. You really are handsome" you say, kissing his bandaged chest and collarbone

He moans quietly, then starts to kiss your neck, making you moan. Your voice was far too much for him to handle. He was already hard for you. He takes off the rest of his clothes and your clothes away, discarding them.

He starts to kiss every inch of your body "Your so beautiful...gorgeous....breath taking...amazing... You don't realize how happy I am right now" He says against your skin

You whimper quietly "I'm happy too 'Samu. please don't stop"

His hand glides down your entire body until it reaches to your cunt. He slowly rubs your clit, making you moan and scratch his back

"Your voice...I want to hear more of it, Bella~" he then inserts two fingers inside of you, making you moan louder.

"Oh Bella~ so beautiful and wet just for me~" he speeds up his fingers.

They were far better than what your small fingers could ever do in a million years, especially since his were long and reaching places your fingers couldnt.You arch your back

You wanted to make him feel good too, so you gently start to stroke his cock. He groans from the sensation of your soft hands. You stroking his cock was way better than his own hand

" 'Samu, please. I can't wait any longer. I need you~" he swears he could've cum right after you said that.

He pulls his fingers out as you take your hand away from him. He looks into your eyes, licking his fingers clean in front of you. You were blushing badly

He smirks "Your taste is more addictive than any drug or alcohol ever created"

You gulp from his words, but suddenly held the hand he just licked clean. You connected his bandaged wrist to your lips, giving it multiple, slow kisses

"I can say the same about your body" you mumbled against his hand

He felt his heart,mind, and soul melt with desire and kissed your lips again, using the hand you kissed to pull you closer by cupping your face.

Your face felt at ease when you felt his lips, but it turns to shock when you feel the tip of his cock near your entrance. Both of your bodies were desperate for each other and couldn't wait any longer.

He looks deeply into your eyes again, before kissing you softly. Your hands move to his back and the side of his neck, while one of his hands were on your hips, and the other was busy holding himself up.

Slowly, he pushes himself inside you, making you both moan. The way he stretched you out was so amazing and the way your warm, wet walls hugged his cock was indescribable. It was better than you both ever imagined.

When His cock was fully inside, he let you adjust to his size, but you felt his body trembling from the pleasure. Placing a hand on his cheek you whisper "please move, my love"

He kisses you again as he slowly thrusts into you, both of you moaning. He closes his eyes like he's savoring the moment of the pure, blissful, pleasure.

His thrusts become faster when he felt you thrust your hips against his to feel more of him. "B-Bella~ Mnn~ y/n.. god I've never felt this good~"

You wrapped your arms around his neck "me either~ Mnn~! f-faster 'Samu~ ah~! you feel so amazing~"

With your plea and praise, he pounded into you, finally going at the pace you both wanted to go at. His whimpers and groans were only making you tighter which only made him go faster, wanting to feel more of you and this euphoric feeling.

"Your everything I've ever wanted, Osamu~ mmn~! Don't stop~"

He responds to your praise with a whimper "Your what I've been looking for- mmn~! my entire life ah~ y/n i-im gonna cum~!" He says panting

"Me too~ i-inside please- ah~! feels too good~"

With those words, he reached deeper inside of you. His cock hitting all the right places and his moans fuel your arousal.

Your twitching cunt and your words made him go over the edge as he came deep inside you with a loud whimper, holding onto you tightly. You came once you felt his hot cum shoot inside you, moaning loudly with him.

You both pant heavily while hugging each other. He lays his forehead against yours as he looks into your eyes again, chuckling softly. You chuckle back at him and kiss his lips.

After your shared kiss, he pulls himself out and rests his head on your chest, eyes closing, arms around your waist.

With a soft voice he says "I love you so much y/n. Because of you I've finally found a reason"

You turn your head to get a better look at his face "A reason for what?" You asked

He stayed silent for a few seconds, then looks at you with a tired smile "To live"

💚RANPO💚

You were with your cute boyfriend on the couch watching a movie, but he was basically spoiling everything even though you both have never seen the film. I guess that's one pet peeve about him, but you still love him to death.

You actually can't think of a life without him in it, he's definitely made your life a little brighter and he absolutely adores you.

While he was spoiling the movie, you told him you'll be right back and went to get your snacks from YOUR pantry. You opened it and see it's completely empty.

You deadpan as you look at Ranpo, he was already looking away from you while whistling.

"You told me you weren't gonna eat my snacks!!" You said in almost a whine

"I ran out of my snacks and got hungry! I'm sorry but you should've seen this coming, sugar" he protested with a smile

You speed walk up to him and start tickling him, making him laugh "did you see this coming?!"

"yep sure did!" He said while laughing

You then start to tackle him, making both of you fall off the couch and on to the ground with a loud thud. You were both laughing and fighting, trying to make the other admit defeat by pinning the other down

"You wanted this to happen didn't you, you smartass!?" You asked while smirking

"Maybe I did! What you gonna do about it-? AH!" His sentence was cut off when you aggressively pinned him to the ground

"HA! I win!" you shouted

"You still don't have any snacks though~!" He said with a snarky tone

You pinched his cheek harshly making him whine out in pain "OWIE!!!"

"Your lucky your cute, but you owe me snacks!" You said

"Okay okay! That's fair, just let go of my cheek!" He pleaded.

You let go of his cheek as he chuckles softly. You both then realize what kind of position your both in right now. You were sitting on top of Ranpo and his hands were on your thighs, your hands were on his shoulders holding him down.

You blushed "i- sorry let me just-" you tried getting off of him but he holds you in place. You look at him with a flustered, confused face.

"Y/n.." he says in almost a whisper while looking down to where your straddling him. He then suddenly lays his head on the ground, taking a deep breath.

"I... Want you.. and ...I've been wanting you for awhile now" his grip on your thighs tighten from how nervous he is

"I want to show you how much I...love you. If that's okay with you" he finishes, his cheeks show a soft pink across them.

You blushed as well, he was so cute when he was embarrassed. You smile softly as you lean into his lips, kissing him.

"Yes, I'd love that actually" you responded with a warm smile

He opens his eyes to look at you. He knew you would agree, but it was still embarrassing to say the words out loud. He also wanted to hear you say you wanted him too.

He dives into your lips to kiss you, already out of breath after a few seconds. He felt his heart race with excitement and nervousness.

One of your hands was busy playing with his hair and the other was on his chest. He starts to get a little needy and gently begins to thrust upwards to get some sort of friction.

He moans into the kiss, feeling slight pleasure on the tent forming in his pants. You moan from the feeling of his bulge against your clothed cunt. The sensation was good but he wanted more.

He abruptly turns you over and gets on top of you, making you gasp. He immediately starts to kiss your neck, gently nibbling on it

"Such a cutie~" he chuckles against your neck as you shiver from his warm breath tickling you.

He then sits up and puts his hands on your pants, lowering them down, you blushed red while looking away

"Don't be embarrassed, love~ you've never looked so tasty" he says with a smirk.

You sit up with your elbows "don't tell me your-"

He lowers his head to get in-between your legs, his hands on your waist pulling you closer "of course I am. now sit back and enjoy the ride"

before you could say anything he already starts to devour your cunt, your elbows giving up and letting you fall back to the ground while you arch your back.

"Mmm~ so sweet! I think I found a new favorite desert~" he mumbles against your clit, the vibration making you feel good as he begins to thrust his tongue into you.

You hold onto his hair tightly and he moans. You find yourself thrusting your hips against his tongue for more pleasure.

"It feels so good~ ah~! Ranpo~" he whimpered from how you moaned his name, it made his cock twitch and ache for you.

His moans, tongue, and fingers were all you could think about, only reaching you closer to your climax.

"Ranpo~ ah~! I'm going to c-cum~!" You say while tightening your grip on his hair, pulling him closer.

He moans as he circles his tongue around your quivering clit. You squeeze his head gently with your legs as you cum on his tongue with a big moan.

You were breathing heavily, trying to slow you heart rate down. Ranpo starts to pant too as he looks at your cunt "I want seconds.."

he starts to lower his head to meet your pussy, but you push him over. His back hitting the couch you were sitting on awhile ago.

"I think it's time for the main course don't you think?" You ask while taking off your shirt and bra.

He stares at your body and you could see his bulge throb. He understands what your saying and takes off his clothes too.

You tell him to sit on the couch to get more comfortable and when he does you straddle his lap, looking into his green eyes

"it's my turn to make you cum" you kiss his lips after you say those words.

He whimpers when he feels the tip of his cock touch your wet folds, his hands holding on to your hips.

He pulls away from the kiss and looks down to where your both about to be connected, gulping from the sight.

You begin to sink your hips down onto his cock, making both of you moan.You stayed still to make yourself adjust to him, but he gently starts thrusting into you

"P-please, sugar...start..I can't stand waiting anymore~" His begging made you tighten around him.

You lift yourself up to only quickly sink into him again. He whimpers in satisfaction as you slowly jump on his cock.

"Oh sugar~ your so wet~ mmm~! You take me in so good~" he moans.

He then lays his hands on your breasts, caressing them gently as you whimper. he lowers his head to suck on one of your nipples, his tongue working magic on you.

"So pretty~ mmn~ Faster, sugar~" he begs

This influences you to jump on his cock at a fast and aggressive pace, your thighs hitting his lap from every jump, a loud clapping sound being created. The sound was making the situation more lewd and only made you and him moan louder.

You felt his grip on your hips tighten "oh yeah so good~! ngh~! so fucking good~ i- I'm about to cum!"

"Hah~ me too! God you feel amazing Ranpo~! Such a good boy~" you praise

He responded in the loudest and most sexy whimper you've ever heard, his head falling on top of the couch cushions and his mouth agape. You both feel your release come closer and closer and finally your at your limits.

Before Ranpo could finish, he quickly pulls himself out of you and cums on your stomach, some of it landing on your breasts. You both moan from your euphoric release, twitching and shaking from the intensity.

As you felt your heart slow down to a normal rate, you wipe some of the cum on your body with your fingers, and with curiosity, licking your fingers clean. Ranpo looked at you with a flushed faced

"You taste delicious too, Ranpo~" you smile at him

You could hear him softly whimper before you pull him into a passionate kiss

"I love you so much" you say

You both hug eachother, still trying to regain your energy back when suddenly, realization came to you

"Did- did you plan all of this?" You asked

He chuckles quietly "yep sure did! but I meant everything I said. It definitely was so much better compared to what I imagined it would be, my love~" he said while kissing the top of your head

Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth so say one last thing

"Just like how I didn't know how amazing it would feel to fall in love until you showed up"

💜FYODOR 💜

Fyodor has made some time to spend time with you, since he's always busy, and tonight you had him to yourself.

You both dressed nicely and had some dinner that you made together, talking about whatever comes to mind, making the other giggle from time to time.

He was a demon that threw malice at others, but when it came to you, he showered you with appreciation and affection.

After your dinner, he turns off the lights, dozens of candles illuminating the room and fill your noses with a pumpkin spice scent.

He sets up a gramophone record player and plays The Second Waltz by Shostakovich. He walks towards you while the beautiful melody starts playing, reaching his hand out to you

"care to dance with me, moya lyubov?"

You smiled widely from how sappy yet romantic he can be. You put your hand on his as he pulls you close and puts his other hand on your waist while you put your other hand on his shoulder.

You both begin to waltz slowly as you both look at each other with soft eyes.He picks you up and spins you around when the song crescendos, making you feel like royalty or a princess from a Disney movie.

You giggle from being flustered as he smiles at you, bringing you back to the ground

"No words could ever describe how irresistible you are, my love" he whispers before kissing your cheek with a smile

At that moment you wanted to feel more of his kisses, but even then you knew that wouldn't be enough

"I.. want more of you Fedya" you softly say

"More?" He questions you while tilting his head

"I crave more of you everyday. Your the only man I want in this world"

You grab his hand and bring it towards your lips, kissing each pad of his fingers and lastly kissing his palm. You gently position his cold hand to cup your face as you look into his eyes.

"Please Fyodor, make me yours tonight"

Saying his name with your beautiful voice made him shiver and the words you said drove him crazy. He sighs in satisfaction while closing his eyes for a quick second before opening them again

"how I've waited for you to say those words y/n"

He leans into your lips with a gentle kiss that slowly digresses to a rough, passionate make out. You both hug eachother, trying to keep the other as close as possible

You grab his right hand and place it on your clothed breast. You feel him gently squeeze and caress it, making you moan quietly into the kiss.

He slides his right hand up to your shoulder and lowers your sleeve down, exposing more of your neck to leave hickeys

"I only want you, my love. And, God forbid, anybody tries to steal you away from me" he says in between kisses before biting down on your neck, making you whimper loudly and tightly clenching his hair.

He groans "I am yours and you are mine, and tonight I'll prove it"

He goes back to kissing your lips as both of you walk towards to bedroom. He lays you down on the bed as he gets on top of you, your arms around his neck and his right hand sneaking it's way under your underwear to rub your clit in circles.

You moaned "Mmn~! Fyodor~"

You felt his breath shiver "say my name again, my love. It's intoxicating"

You start to moan his name, creating him to feel aroused, hard and groan. He leaves hickeys on your collarbone as he speeds up his fingers.

You could already feel your release coming. The thought of his fingers trying to make you climax as he groans in your ear was enough to drive you over the edge.

You were just about to cum when suddenly he pulls his fingers away from you, you responded with a whine.

"Why'd you stop?" You asked while panting

He looks at his wet fingers, spreading them to see a webbed like liquid connect to his middle and ring finger. He then licks them clean in front of you and chuckles

" I thought you'd like to cum on something much better, my dear" You blush from his words

"take off your clothes, myshka~" he says in a low voice before sitting up to remove his own clothes.

You begin to remove your clothes, not leaving a single thing on and he does the same.

He looks at your naked body that's underneath him, taking in all the fine detail of it and notices you staring at his hard shaft.

"I hope your not disappointed" he says

Your eyes become wide from embarrassment "n-no! quite far from it actually"

he chuckles and kisses your forehead "I was right. No words could ever describe how beautiful you are"

You feel your heart flutter, but then you feel it skip a beat when you felt the tip of his cock enter you, slowly pushing Into you.

You moaned loudly, but Fyodor kissed your lips to muffle your noises. As much as he wanted to hear your voice, he wanted to kiss you while he penetrates you for the first time, finally able to call you his.

You heard him groan in the kiss while he still pushes inside you, until finally he's completely inside.

He lets you adjust while he struggles to not pound into you fast and roughly right away, at least not today, tonight was meant to be memorable and special.

"P-please move Fyodor" you pleaded

He thought you were so cute at this very moment and when you said his name it made me throb. He begins to move, his pase is slow, but his thrusts were deep.

You felt his body twitch every now and then from the pleasure. He then pushes his cock deep inside your cunt, letting you cock warm him just for a bit.

He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, really trying to ingrain to his memory how amazing you feel. He slowly opens his eyes and stares at you with lustful eyes

"F-Fyodor- mn~" you moaned

He kisses your lips gently, making you feel loved and protected. You suddenly felt his cock pull out and instantly thrust back inside you again.

Fyodor was now going at a perfect pace, not too slow and not too fast. You both moaned from the pleasure

"Too good~ Mnn~! Im already about to ah~! Cum!" You moaned

"Hold it and wait for me, my love. Your doing so well~ mmm~! I've never felt so much pleasure~"

You scratch his back with your nails and moan his name, fueling his arousal. He instantly went at a faster pace as you arched your back, your breasts bouncing and attracting his gaze towards them.

He could only hold on for so long when you moan his name and tightly stroke his cock almost too good.

"Who knew you were so lewd, my dear Ngh~! Do I make you feel that good? Mmn~ so tight~"

The way you looked right now turned him on so much, you felt him throb deep inside you. His mind could only think about you and the sensation. He could feel himself about to cum

"Myshka~ I'm at my limit mmn~ cum with me y/n~" he says while thrusting faster

You moan louder "please... inside MMN~! inside me Fyodor~"

And with that you were both at your breaking point. He cums deep inside you with a low moan as you cum on his cock, feeling him throbbing inside you while he claimed your insides.

He made sure to look at your face when you came, to know how good he made you feel. This was for sure the best climax you and him have both ever had. You were both calming down from your release, breathing heavily.

He gently cups your face with his hand, your tired eyes still looking at each other with love "I hope you're proud to call me yours just as much as I am to call you mine."

You feel your mind ease with affection from his words. He then kindly says

"I'm madly and deeply in love with you, y/n"

💙ATSUSHI💙

You and Atsushi were on your apartment balcony, talking about your favorite past memories. He always loved seeing you happy and laugh remembering your childhood, even if he couldn't relate he loved listening to your stories.

He even loved hearing about your bad memories, not because he's a sadist, but because he felt happy you could tell him about those things.

He loved everything about you and you loved everything about him, sure you both had your flaws, but there's way more to love than hate.

You've helped build his confidence and slowly taught him to love himself by telling him what you love about him, which was almost everything. You loved him and he loved you

You were both laughing when suddenly fireworks starts to brighten up the sky from afar, taking your attention. All different types of colors were painted on the night sky as your eyes reflected them.

"Wow, I didn't even know there was a festival nearby" Atsushi says

"Me either" you chuckled "but it's so pretty"

"Maybe we should make a wish?" Atsushi asked like an excited kid

You looked at him in awe and laughed "you are adorable"

"Sorry was that dumb?" He asked a bit embarrassed and scratching his head

You felt bad "no! I just thought it was cute haha yeah let's make a wish"

you smiled at him and then closed your eyes He followed your action and closed his eyes too, taking in a deep breath. You wished for the obvious, to spend a lifetime with him, and opened your eyes.

"What'd you wish for?" You asked him

He chuckles softly "I wished to be your favorite memory one day" he says gently

You tilt your head. He speaks again while looking at you "I want us to have plenty of happy memories together and that you'll smile and laugh when you tell other people about your happiest memories with me in them, just like you were doing earlier"

Your eyes widen as your felt your heart beat throughout your whole body, his words moving you in so many ways. You knew it was a bit cheesy, but to hear those words be directed towards you, it felt so different and so heart warming.

"I just want to make you feel more loved Everyday and for you to be happy just as much as you make me" he says

You smile "Im already happy since I have you and I couldn't ask for more"

He smiles with teary eyes, tears start to fall down his cheek. His eyes go wide from shock as he tries to wipe them away

"I'm sorry! I don't know why I suddenly cried. I guess I'm just happy someone I love feels the same way" he said with a blush on his cheeks

You held his face with a chuckle "don't be sorry, Atsushi! I'm happy you feel the same way too" you kissed his nose and forehead

He smiles kindly then cups your face and kisses you, knowing it was a perfect time to kiss someone. The kiss turns into a slow and gentle make out as you tilt your head slightly to deepen it.

He pulls away "Let's make a new memory tonight" he says slightly panting

"This night has already turned into a happy memory" you laugh

He smiles "I'm glad but... I want this to be the night where we....become one" he finished while looking at you with ambition

"I want you to be my first and ..hopefully my last" After he finished his words

he noticed your shocked eyes "O-of course if it's okay with you!" He stammers, putting his hands out in defense

You chuckle and grab his hands, pulling him in close"It's more than ok, I .....want you too" you responded with blush on your cheeks

He smiles. His eyes glowing with pure happiness. He then kissed your lips with confidence and passion. You grab a hold of the back of his head to deepen the kiss, both of you panting heavily whenever you pull away for air.

You both make your way to the bedroom while making out, soon finding yourself laying on your bed and Atsushi on top of you.

You start to unbutton his shirt and when his chest and stomach was exposed, you pushed him over, straddled his lap and kissed his naked torso. He whimper quietly as your lips tickled his sensitive skin. When you saw the scars he has on his stomach, you kissed them one by one

"your so beautiful, Atsushi" you mumble against his skin.

He felt electricity go through his body. His heart fluttered. He then sits up and kisses your lips again, this time pulling off your shirt. He pushed you over to kiss your beautiful body

"your so soft. You are literally perfect y/n" he praises you as his hands lay on your rib cage, right under your breast.

You could tell he was holding himself back from touching you all over, so you decided to helped him out. You push him away for a quick second, so you could take your bra off, his eyes directing towards your chest while gulping. You took his hand and placed it on your bare breast

You immediately kissed him after the contact, feeling his hand squeeze and caress you. After awhile of kissing, you pushed him over again, this time facing the tent in his pants. You unzipped his pants to pulled them down, taking his underwear as well, his hard cock springing free.

He sits up on his elbows, immediately blushing more when he sees you look at his member. He felt like you were disappointed by his size, but then you said

"Just the sight of it is already making me wet" You saw his cock twitching from your dirty words.

Your hand grabs a hold of his hard shaft as you gently kiss or lick the tip while slowly stroking his cock with your hand. He whimpers while shutting his eyes tightly, his fingers clench around the bed sheets. He watches you as you play with him when suddenly, you invite his needy cock inside your warm, salivating mouth.

His body gives up and completely lays flat on the bed as he moans your name, his head falling backwards from the pleasure. You fit only what you can into your mouth, stroking the rest with your hand that couldn't. His whimpers and twitches making you so wet.

"S-so mmnph~! Good~ i- ah~! I didn't think it'd feel this good~" he moans

He stands up with his elbows again and places a hand on the side of your head, stroking your hair. His eyes seemed to be drunk with arousal.As much as you enjoyed tasting his dick, you pulled him out with a tight pop sound.

He looked at you confused and out of breath. He was about to say something, but you cut him off

"I think we should get to the main part now" you said with a soft smile, pulling off your pants swiftly

You then straddled his lap and lift your hips up slightly, holding his cock to your felt folds. His hands rested on your hips. You could feel his heart beat fast from one of your hands laying on his chest.You leaned closer to his face and kissed his forehead, cheek, and lips. You tried to ease his nerves

"Your beautiful, Atsushi"

He gulped before responding "Your flawless, you know?" He smiles

You smile back and kiss his lips once more, sitting up again just above his hips. You look into his eyes for a second before sinking yourself onto Atsushi's cock. You gasp from the shock wave of pleasure and being stretched out. Atsushi moaned while closing his eyes

You didn't wait to start riding his cock in and out of your in a slow motion.

Atsushi moaned "Ah~ Mmn~! W-wait~!" He then squeeze your hips from his fingers, he moaned loudly and thrusted his hips upwards, cumming inside of you. You were a little shocked

"Ah! I-i am so sorry!" He said with a genuine tone, blushing from embarrassment

You chuckle and attack his face with small pecks "it's ok, my love. It's normal for that to happen on your first time" you said

He hugged you to pull you closer "i-im not done though" he responds.

Out of no where, he turns your body over and gets in between your legs. He attacks your neck with soft kisses, slightly arching your back and pulling on his hair, making him groan

You felt the tip of his cock against your entrance again, you looked down to see he was hard again. Before you could say anything, he thrusts his cock inside you, earning you to dig your nails into his shoulders and moan.

"I- ah~ can't make you feel unsatisfied" he says before he thrusts into you at a normal pace.

His forehead rests on the crook of your neck, his eyes closed and whimpers leaving his mouth.

"So warm~ mmn~! so tight~ so wet~ god you feel amazing y/n~" he moans

You wrap your arms around his neck "y-yeah your doing so good, Atsushi~ it feels so good mmmn~ faster please~"

Your praise made him throb and immediately started thrusting into you fast. His cock felt like it could melt from how good you felt around him while your cunt ached to cum on his wet dick.

You could feel some of his cum drip outside you the more he pounded into you and it only made you closer to your release.

He looked down to see the mess you have both created from being connected, the cum oozing out of you, the bed sheets becoming wet, his cock soaked from his cum and your arousal. It turned him on so much

"G-god~ ngh~ i-im about to ah~! Cum again~!" He moans out loud

"Me too~ l-lets do it together mmn~! Atsushi~"

Saying his name while moaning was through him over the edge, he planned to shoot his load on your body, but your legs locked him in place. It was your way of saying to cum inside and he understood.

With one last thrust, he moaned your name while cumming inside you. You felt his cock throbbing aggressively as he came, and that's when you finished on his dick, moaning his name too.

You held on to each other for dear life as you both tried to catch your breaths. You felt his hot breath on your neck, kissing his forehead and with your hand, pulling him to lay on your chest.

"You did amazing, Atsushi. Thank you for being the best man I've ever had in every way"

He closes his eyes as he feels himself drift to sleep, feeling safe in your arms

"Your my favorite memory y/n"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You were holding tightly on to Chuuya as he rode his motorcycle, using his ability to ride on the sides of the buildings to avoid traffic, chasing some enemies. The only thing you could hear was far away gun shots, tire's screeching, and Chuuya cursing under his breath.

He didn't want you to get involved in this situation, but you were used to seduce the enemy with your charm, and unfortunately they saw through your facade. Too late though, since you got all the information you needed from them

One of the enemies instantly grabbed you by your hair, putting a gun next to your head, they knew there were some people from the pm to keep a close eye on the situation.Chuuya stood up when he saw you in danger, about to use his ability, the enemy told him about how their ability worked.

They could control, whoever they touch, their blood, and told Chuuya all the different ways they could kill you even if he used his ability. You couldn't even use your ability against them. They would kill you before you could even do anything.

Your ability allowed your body to be a voodoo doll, you just had to consume something from someone you want to hurt like hair, blood, or even skin. With that you could shoot yourself in the head, only for the bullet to go through theirs instead, leaving you completely unharmed. exactly like a voodoo doll. Your ability is called Coraline

Chuuya didn't want to gamble with your life, so as the enemy used you as a reason to escape, throwing you to the ground when they thought it was safe to make a run for it.

Chuuya immediately ran up to you, asking if you were ok and telling the other people of pm to go after the enemy. You told Chuuya you were okay and to told him you wanted to run after them. That's when you two rode on the motorcycle bike, on your way to kill a couple of enemies.

Chuuya already wanted to kill them since their hands were all over you. They flirted with you and even almost tried to kiss you. He wanted to beat the living shit out of them

Luckily that lemon bomb guy, kajii, was able to stop the enemies vehicle, putting them in a corner. Bad news is that nobody was able to kill them because of the blood control ability, wether it was shielding them by creating a wall of blood, healing themselves or creating sharp spikes of blood to whoever came near.

When you got to the scene, you tried to think of a way to kill them. After a bit you thought of a way."Chuuya, hold them down with your ability"

He looked at you with a worried expression "what are you planning? Don't do anything stupid y/n"

"Just trust me" you said grabbing a hold of his hand, kissing his knuckles

He looked at you like you were stupid at first and now his eyes showed gentleness "I trust you"

He did what you asked of him. The enemies were sunk to the ground in a way, but they were still huddled together, the enemy's ability to still be undefeated. You took a deep breath and simply walked towards to enemy with the blood ability. When they noticed you were too close they created sharp spikes of blood to come out of their body's, almost like a porcupine defending themself.

You made eye contact with the end of a spike"Don't do anything stupid, darling" the enemy said

You smiled and then took a big bite out of the end of the shard, leaving everyone shocked. That's when you used your ability. Before the enemies knew your plan, since they know how your ability works, You backed up quickly, picking a lemon bomb out of your pocket, and gulped it whole.

They stared at you with fear as you smirked innocently at them, and in just a couple seconds they literally exploded in front of everyone. Your ability sure was scary.Everyone was shocked at how easy that was for you to defeat the enemy as you walk towards Chuuya, his face glowing with shock with his mouth agape.

He thought you were so fucking hot right at the moment. Even though he wanted to be the one to kill them, he didn't mind one bit.

"I told you to trust me" you said while smiling at him

He stared at you for a good second, he knew you could take care of yourself, he's seen it multiple times, but he just stared at you in awe. The moon light literally shines behind you making you look pure and fragile, even though you literally just killed a group of people a few seconds ago, not a scratch on you.

It was almost like he fell in love with you all over again. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a kiss, you were taken aback, but you gave into the kiss. After the fiery kiss, he pulled away and smirked at you, eyes full of a heartfelt desire.

He then looked at everyone else, telling them clean the mess up and making an excuse to leave. On the ride back to Chuuya's apartment, you could tell his mind was determined to do something desperately.The second you made it his apartment, he kissed your lips with the same passion from earlier, suddenly carrying you bridal style to the bedroom.

He gently placed you on the bed, his body was in between your legs, his hands each placed beside your waist. He laid his forehead onto yours and spoke

"God, you were so fucking hot back there, doll. Y'know, I wanted to be the one to kill those bastards, but you were the one that did it instead, and you did it like it was just a walk in the park"

You blushed from the praise and smiled at him "thank you, love" You put your hands on his shoulders

"I have to get as much of them off of you as possible, since they put their disgusting hands all over you"

"Well there's a... Good solution to this"

He smirks "and that would be?"

"make me yours tonight"He looks at you slightly astonished, he was expecting you to let him leave hickeys or bite marks on your neck.

You smiled tenderly "I want to remind you that I belong to you" you put a finger up to his face "but just so you know that also means you belong to me and only me" you finished

"A-are you sure? I mean not that I'm against this, love. I just want to make sure you dont feel like your doing this just for me"

You chuckled by how considerate he was being "yes, I'm sure. I've actually been wanting to do it with you for awhile now because... I love you, Chuuya and I don't want any other man besides you "

Chuuya's lips slowly shape to a warm smile"I love you too, y/n. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else

You both stare at eachother with admiration. Your lips,bit by bit, close in on each other and creating an intimate make-out.You both take each other's clothes off, your lips never leaving each other. Only when necessary did you separate, but only to come crashing into the others lips once again.

When you were both unclothed, exposed to each other, he pulls away from the kiss, slightly short-winded

"Your so ravishing, doll~ I can kiss you all day" he begins to kiss your neck, nibbling it

You moaned faintly "Your attractive too, you know? So pretty~" grabbing the back of his head to keep him in place

He sucked and kiss your neck, leaving hickeys, taking his time to slowly move down to your collarbone, chest, and stomach. You twitched from his lips tickling your skin every so often

When he was low enough, he grabbed the inside of your thighs, forcing them to spread for him. You stood up with your elbows to get a better look at what he's doing

He looks up at you "I just want a quick taste, doll. Then we can get to the exciting part later" He said under his breath as he licked your folds, taking the wind out of you as you let your head fall back.

His tongue was skillful and so were his fingers which only made the pleasure better with each passing second.You felt him suck on your clit while circling his tongue around it. You moaned his name while pulling his hair, trying to get more off his tongue, but he pulled away.

"As much as I want to continue this~ I have something better for you" he smirks at you

He leans into your lips gently, you tasted yourself from his tongue. You gasped a little as you felt Chuuya rub the tip of his cock up and down on your folds, sometimes rubbing your clit.

"I can't wait anymore, doll~ your making it hard for me to control myself" he whispers with a faint fierce tone.

He holds your hips and kisses your cheek, slowly pushing his cock inside you, making you clench his hair. You both groaned from the strong pleasure flowing through your bodies until he hits the deepest part of you, fitting perfectly.

"Seems like you really are made for me, love~" it seemed like he struggled to say those words, the sensation being too intense

He let you adjust to his size before he began to rock into you, going at a normal pace. You felt immense euphoria already and so was he

"Ngh~! your so tight, doll~ this feels so fucking good~"

"Mmn~! It's only because your too deep~" you said with embarrassment

"Heh you always know the right things to say to me don't you?" He said before he went at a faster pace

You both moaned as you could feel yourselves reach your releases. Your cunt milking him so good and his cock rubbing and hitting all the right places. His moans and kisses made you feel loved and your calling out his name while being pleasured by him was so addicting.

"S-shit! Ngh~! I'm going to cum! Mmn~! Feels too good~"

"Yea~ ah~ I'm going to cum too~ don't stop, Chuuya~" He then pounded into you, desperately wanting to feel his climax.

The rougher pace only made you both last for a few seconds until Chuuya pulled out and came all over your chest. You came when you heard Chuuya's loud moan from his climax, your legs twitching around his waist, moaning his name.

The only thing you two could hear was each others panting. Chuuya lazily got a tissue by his night stand to clean you off, then put his arms around you, face to face with him .You smile tiredly as you hugged him back. You felt him kiss the top of your head

"That was amazing, doll. I didn't even know It could feel that good"

" Are you saying you expected me to me horrible?" You jokingly responded

"What no! It's just I-"

You laugh "I'm just messing with you, love "

He scoffs before chuckling slightly

"I'm glad to have met someone like you as my life. I love you so much, y/n"

It took me four days to finish this, so please reblog and comment what you think 😂🙏

[mandalhoerian]

sacrosanct | leon kennedy x reader | 5 (finale)

< PREVIOUS

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader

summary: Leon, a paladin of the temple who became a disillusioned oathbreaker, returns from years of war with a noble title and shattered faith. Once devoted to the Saintess who healed him, Leon's admiration has twisted into repressed desire—feelings he could never express, tainted by guilt and shame. Now a celebrated hero, he’s drawn back not to the kingdom’s praises, but to the chance of one last glimpse of you to move on with his life.

The god he abandoned has other plans for him.

word count: 25K of pure smut

warnings:. here we go... sexual roleplay, submissive leon, light dom/sub, masturbation, kinda body worship, catharsis through sex, role reversal and we shift to soft dom leon, sex education, body exploration, cunnilingus, fingering, intercrural sex, degradation kink, leon tweaks again and goes full dom, vaginal orgasm training, corruption kink, marking kink, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, possesive sex, unprotected sex, coming inside. what else? and ooc and fluff. yay!

author's note: we are at the end of my very first multi-chaptered xreader work, thank you so much for bearing with me while i was tormented by becoming what i hated the most and constantly crying over having to bump up the chapter count. to think this was supposed to be a two-shot... special thanks goes to @chesue00 for starting this madness. this plot and pre-written snippets already existed inspired by her art before i reached out to her, but i still can't believe i've come this far since publishing this on september 14th... insane. this is what dopamine and a little attention does to a girl 😭 please look forward to the masterlist because i have to make one now with how long this is....

🌀 READ ON AO3 !

It's a heady feeling, having this strong, powerful man kneeling before you, his muscular body on display for you, undivided attention fixed on yours with a mixture of desire and trepidation. You run a hand through his hair, enjoying the silky softness of it despite being wet, and he leans into your touch, glazed eyes going out of focus for a moment. Your own heart speeds up at how his mouth falls open, panting, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them glistening invitingly.

It dawns on you that you don't know what you're doing right now. Are you trying to prove a point, or are you just indulging in your own fantasy? Is it okay to do this to Leon? You've had many men on their knees in a completely different context devoid of this kind of intimacy, whether it be for healing, blessing, or for sineating. All for the sake of helping them, with the holy light of Ethelion running through your veins, flowing to the believers. This isn't anything like that, but it can be. You can make this a blessing, for him to heal from the self-loathing he seems to be suffering from. That is, if he'll let you help him...

"Are you okay with this?" you ask, and he nods immediately, eagerly.

"Yes," he breathes, his gaze fixed on your face, drinking in every detail, committing them to memory as though it's the most precious gift he's ever been given, even though you haven't even started doing anything. Leon's gaze flickers down to your towel-covered lap and back up to yours.

"You can say no anytime you want," you remind him gently, stroking his hair once more, and he leans into your touch again, this time with a contented sigh. His eyelids flutter shut and open again languidly as if in slow motion, and when he looks at you, there is something different about him. The tension seems to have melted away, leaving behind a man who seems... almost peaceful? It's a startling contrast from earlier, when he seemed like a caged animal ready to lash out at anything within reach, and it makes your heart ache unexpectedly at how beautiful he looks like this.

"I want to do this," he says firmly, no trace of hesitation or doubt evident anywhere within those oceanic depths staring straight into yours without wavering even once. "Please."

"Okay," you reply, nodding in agreement, because how can you deny him this when he asks so sweetly? You tug at his shirt lightly. "Then take this off, Sir Leon."

His fingers move deftly over his shirt's buttons, undoing them one by one until he shrugs it off his broad shoulders easily enough before letting it fall to the floor behind him.

Your gaze trails over every ridge and dip on his bare torso, taking in all the marks left behind after years of battles fought against foes both seen and unseen by others besides himself; some faint silver lines barely noticeable beneath tanned complexion while others remain angry red welts raised thickly above otherwise unblemished flesh. There are several long slashes across his abdomen that must have been painful when received judging by how jagged their edges are where they healed incorrectly. A particularly nasty gash just below his collarbone stands out amongst the rest due to its length stretching almost entirely around the side of his ribcage, and disappearing beneath his arm. Another smaller but deeper cut runs along his hip bone leading downward towards his navel area.

He hasn't received the temple's healing because of his oathbreaker status.

It gives you an idea.

Since he's comfortable within the bubble of kneeling before you as the saintess and reverting back to the holy paladin that he was, then you'll play along and offer him a 'blessing'.

You lean forward, your breath ghosting over the scar on his collarbone, and press a light kiss there. His skin is warm and salty, and you can feel his pulse pounding under your lips. "By the power blessed by Ethelion, I will heal you, his devout and faithful knight," you whisper against his skin, letting the holy words roll off your tongue.

He sucks in a sharp breath at your words, his entire body tensing beneath you. Then he relaxes again, his head tilting back just a tad as he gives himself over to your touch.

Kissing seems to have pleased him, but your vantage point on the bed isn't exactly ideal to reach the rest of his body. "On the bed," you order him softly. "Lay on your back."

He does so immediately, scrambling up onto the bed and settling himself on the center of the mattress. He looks so vulnerable like this, spread out before you, and you can't help but marvel at the sight of him. You take a moment to drink it in—the way his muscles shift beneath his skin with every movement, the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes heavily through parted lips.

He looks up at you, and his gaze is full of longing and anticipation. You feel a rush of power go through you as you realize just how much control you have over him right now. It's intoxicating.

"Stay still, Sir Leon," you command. "My blessing won't work if you move." And then you're crawling onto the bed with him, straddling his thighs, feeling them tense beneath your legs at the contact. You can feel him hard and hot even through his pants and your towel, pressing insistently against you. The sensation sends a jolt straight to your core and leaves you aching for something more that you don't know the name of.

You trail the path of the previous wound you kiss with the tips of your fingers, featherlight touches that make him shiver. Then you lean down and kiss it again, letting your lips linger this time. He sucks in a shaky breath when your tongue flicks out to taste the salt on his skin.

Acting entirely on instinct to keep pleasing him, you move lower, trailing kisses along his shoulder, down his chest, stopping to lick and suck at his nipples. His hands fist in the sheets as he struggles to keep them still, his breathing becoming increasingly erratic.

You move lower still, tracing the lines of his abs with your tongue, dipping into the indentations between each one. He moans softly when you nip at the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his pants. His hips jerk upward, seeking friction against yours, and you have to bite back a moan of your own at the feeling.

"Saintess," he whispers desperately, his hands flexing in their grip on the sheets like he wants nothing more than to touch you but is holding himself back somehow.

"Stay still, my paladin. My blessing isn't finished," you remind him, and he falls silent, biting his bottom lip hard enough that it looks painful. He throws his head back, giving you a sensual look at his throat and the underside of his chin.

You can kiss there as well, you realize, and do so, kissing his chin and jaw, then moving down the column of his throat until you reach the hollow where it meets his collarbones again. His pulse flutters wildly under your ministrations as you continue exploring every inch of him within reach like this: licking here and sucking there, nibbling gently along the way. Your hand rests flat on his pectorals and stomach alternatively, feeling how rock-solid every muscle is underneath his smooth, somewhat sweaty skin, and reveling on the occasional shudders rippling through his body that he can't suppress.

He gasps and whines when you pay extra attention to one spot or another that seems to be especially sensitive or ticklish for him, and his reactions encourage you further. You're enjoying every second of this—exploring his body like a map only you have access to right now—learning what makes him squirm beneath you and what gets those interesting little noises he's holding back loose.

By the time you reach his navel again, he's panting hard enough that he's practically wheezing with every exhale, his entire body trembling finely like a plucked bowstring being tuned tighter than ever before. And yet somehow he manages to remain motionless throughout it all except for the occasional twitch or jerk here and there.

You spend several long moments lavishing attention on his abdomen area alone as you're planning how to go along with this. Your knowledge on sexual matters is scarce since the church was always very particular in what kind of information they allowed the Saintess to access, and the directions given for your wedding night consisted of laying back and letting Leon do his duty on you. Which ended up being useless, and now you have to navigate this on your own. It's thrilling and scary at the same time, but you're determined to see this through.

You decide to try something daring then: sliding down between his legs until you're kneeling on either side of them instead. This puts you face-to-face—or rather face-to-crotch—with his erection straining against his pants. It's hot even through layers of fabric separating it from your skin, and you find yourself staring at it curiously while trying not to think about its size too much before your nerves fail you completely.

"Saintess," he says again hoarsely after what feels like forever spent just staring at him without really doing anything else besides hesitating. There's an unspoken question hanging in the air between the two of you—a silent request for permission perhaps?—but he doesn't ask outright and neither do you answer because truthfully speaking neither of you know what exactly needs to happen next either. "May I remove these?" he pleads, tugging on the waistband of said pants ever so slightly, hinting on what he wants to do next.

It's strange how much more sexual hearing him calling you that title has become when it used to sound so reverent, and now it almost sounds dirty somehow. You find that you like it quite a lot.

Getting an idea to teach yourself a thing or two going forward, you sit back on your heels, careful not to let your towel ride up too far, and nod. "I want you to show me how you please yourself," you order, watching him with rapt attention, your face flushing at your own boldness, and at the fact that you're about to see a man naked and aroused for the first time in your life. "I will bless your body, but I need to see it first."

He lets out a shivering breath as if he'd been holding it in for ages before finally moving again. He lifts his hips off the mattress enough to push his trousers down over them, exposing himself fully before you—his cock standing proud and tall amidst a nest of dark curls at its base—and you can't help but admire how beautiful he looks like this: all long limbs splayed across rumpled bed sheets, skin stretched tautly over chiseled muscle, broad shoulders flexing beneath your gaze...

But then your attention zeroes in on his cock, and your previous thought about its size comes back tenfold as you stare wide-eyed and wonderstruck at its length jutting upwards towards his stomach, thick veins running along its shaft disappearing beneath smooth skin covering its tip almost completely except for a small slit where a bead of clear liquid glistens invitingly under candlelight. You've seen illustrations of male genitalia during your anatomy studies, but those were all very clinical and sterile-looking. This is anything but clinical or sterile; this is raw and primal and utterly fascinating.

His hand wraps around its girth tentatively at first—almost shyly almost—as though unsure whether he should touch himself like this with someone else present even if they asked him explicitly beforehand. You reach forward and place your hand on the head of his cock, the little bead of liquid smearing onto your palm. It's slick and warm against your skin, and you can't stop yourself from rubbing it in circles over his heated flesh experimentally, marveling at its velvety texture, until he sucks in a sharp breath and his hips buck forward seemingly of their own accord.

You immediately withdraw, not wanting to get ahead of yourself and ruin everything by rushing things. "Confess, Sir Leon. You'll only be blessed if you do. Do you imagine anything at all when you're usually doing this to yourself?"

"I–I think about you," he blurts softly between short breaths, his hand gripping tighter around his cock as he begins slowly moving it up and down its length, hissing through his teeth when his palm brushes past the head, which seems to be the sensitive part. "I've dreamt about this ever since the day I met you, Saintess..."

"And what happens in these dreams?" you press further, your curiosity getting the better of you despite knowing full well that you shouldn't pry too much into someone else's private thoughts like this. But it feels so good to hear him talk like this—to know that he desires you even half as much as you desire him—that you just can't bring yourself to stop him from continuing any further.

"In some... I worship you, body and soul," he groans, his hand starting to pick up speed as he strokes himself faster, his hips rising to meet each downward stroke halfway, his breathing becoming ragged and shallow as he speaks, his words coming out in short bursts interspersed with low grunts and hisses of pleasure, "I lick your nethers until you cry from pleasure, and when you can't handle it any longer, I fill you up."

The mental image of him between your legs makes you throb between them, and you squirm unconsciously, pressing your legs together.

To reward him, you lay your hands on his thighs, marveling at how they tense and flex beneath your palms, before sliding up to his hips and then settling on his lower abdomen. You splay your fingers across his stomach and push down, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your touch as he thrust upwards into his fist again. It's a promise you'll do more if he keeps talking.

"In others, you're still back at the temple, and... I break my vows, and I take you to a secluded corner, and have my way with you," he continues, his free hand reaching down to cradle yours gently against his skin while the other keeps pumping steadily away at, and you closely pay attention to how he pleases himself. "Sometimes I dream of taking you in the gardens, sometimes in the baths, and sometimes even at the altar... I dream that you're begging for me, and I have to keep quiet because if anyone hears us... we'll be punished. So I kiss you to muffle your cries."

You swallow hard at the thought of him kissing you like that, imagining what it would feel like to have him pressing his lips against yours like this, tasting him on your tongue as he ravages you completely...

"Do you... do you dream of me doing that to you now, Sir Leon?" you manage to croak out after a few moments spent lost in thought.

He lets out another shuddering breath as his hand slows down considerably until it's barely moving anymore, his cock twitching visibly beneath his grip, his face flushed with desire as he stares up at you from underneath long lashes damp with sweat. His mouth falls open just a touch, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip before disappearing back inside again, and he nods wordlessly.

You lay down on the mattress beside him, and lean in close to him until you can smell the scent of his arousal mixed with his natural musk filling your nostrils—it smells earthy and spicy like freshly cut grass after rain mingling with something else entirely unique to him alone—and you breathe it in deeply before letting it fill your lungs entirely. Then you lean even closer still until your forehead rests lightly atop his shoulder, your nose grazing lightly across his collarbone as you inhale again deeply, taking in more of his scent as though trying to commit it permanently within memory.

"Let me bless you with that, then," you whisper in his ear, and then press your own lips to his.

It's soft and tentative at first—a simple sweep of skin upon skin—but when he doesn't pull away immediately, you press harder, doing whatever feels right; nibbling at his lower lip and sucking it between your teeth, licking along the seam where his lips meet, tasting him fully, feeling him shiver beneath your touch as he moans into your mouth, his hips jerking upwards into his hand once again as he resumes stroking himself faster than ever before.

Remembering that the head was the sensitive part and he liked you touching there, you reach down and cup it in your palm, rubbing it in circular motions, and he groans louder this time, his cock throbbing hard against your fingers, more liquid coming out to slicken the movement.

Something slimy slips into your mouth, and it takes a moment for you to realize that it's his tongue invading past your lips and teeth, seeking entrance further within. It feels strange—odd but not unpleasant—to have another person's tongue exploring inside of you like this, and you find yourself responding instinctively to him taking the lead, opening up wider for him to delve deeper inside of you, meeting his every stroke with one of your own. You're completely inexperienced, but he doesn't seem to care, instead seeming to enjoy teaching you what he likes.

You're both panting heavily now, gasping for air every so often in between fervent kisses, the sounds of flesh against flesh growing louder and louder alongside the wet friction of his hand stroking furiously away at his cock and yours rubbing insistently atop it. He breaks off from the kiss with a guttural growl, throwing his head back against the pillows, exposing his neck which you immediately latch onto, kissing and nibbling along his jugular vein, feeling it pulse wildly beneath your lips, tasting salt on his skin as you suckle lightly there.

"Saintess!" he cries out desperately as his hips start jerking erratically beneath you, his hand pumping frantically faster than ever before, and you know he's close by the way his cock twitches violently within his grasp, his balls tightening up against his body as he approaches climax.

"Perfect, you're doing perfect," you coo, and completely losing yourself in how beautiful the sight of his head thrown back is, you take your free hand and wrap it around his throat, feeling his pulse quicken even further beneath your fingertips as he sucks in a sharp breath through flaring nostrils. You don't squeeze, just hug the sides of his muscular neck, but the effect it has on him is immediate and dramatic: his entire body stiffens up like a bowstring drawn taut, every muscle tensing rigidly beneath you.

"Release, and be blessed," you order, and with one final cry, he does exactly that. Thick ropes spurt forth from the tip of his cock and splatter across both your stomachs and the sheets beneath him, coating everything in their path with sticky white fluid. His hips keep thrusting upwards into his fist for several more seconds after the last spurt has been expelled from his cock, until finally, his body relaxes completely under yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath he draws in, his cock slowly beginning to soften within his grip.

You release his throat and press your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in and enjoying the scent of his skin mingled with sweat, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath yours, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow down from its frantic pace earlier.

"Ethelion's grace be upon you, Sir Leon," you murmur against his neck, and you hear him exhale shakily beneath you as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, curling around you as though trying to shield you from some unseen danger looming nearby. "I absolve you of your sins."

"Thank you, Saintess," he whispers hoarsely back at you after a few moments spent simply holding each other close like this, neither of you saying anything further aloud but rather communicating everything needed through actions instead of words. It feels nice being held like this—being sheltered within someone else's embrace—and it fills your heart with warmth knowing that he trusts you enough to let himself be vulnerable.

He shifts around underneath you, causing you to lift your head off his chest to check on him, thinking he's uncomfortable in the position you're in, but when you look up at his face, you find him staring intently back down at yours, his gaze soft yet intense all at once.

"Where did you learn all of that?" he asks quietly, an imperceptible, suspicious crinkle between his eyebrows. He’s almost searching for the answer in your face before you can give it to him.

"Learn what?" you ask, puzzled by his question. "I just followed your lead"

"You don't realize what you just did?" He frowns just a touch, looking concerned now instead of curious. "That was…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

"God no," he said quickly, shaking his head. "It was incredible. I've just never had anyone take control like that before. Especially not..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at your position.

"Oh," you reply, feeling somewhat embarrassed now that you realize your actions could have easily been misinterpreted as something more sinister than innocent exploration. You wonder if perhaps you crossed a line somewhere without realizing it earlier. "I hope I wasn't forcing you or anything..."

Leon's hand came up to cup your cheek. "You didn't overstep at all. I loved every second of it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat if you asked."

You smile shyly at him before placing a quick peck on his lips, causing him to hum contentedly, his hold around your waist tightening, pulling you closer toward him once again until there is hardly any space left between the two of you at all anymore.

"I'm glad then," you murmur softly against his mouth. "Because I think I liked doing it too."

But there's really this intense pressure between your legs and you think you have to use the chamber pot, so you squirm out of Leon's embrace to do just that. However, as soon as you get off the bed, a gush of liquid comes out of you, and you're terrified thinking that you just wet yourself in front of him. It's not that much to completely have soaked through the towel, and you're able to make it to the washroom without giving anything away to Leon.

You remove your towel and stare at the mess between your legs. But it isn't urine, since the liquid is clear and doesn't stink, and it's thicker, viscous almost. You come to the conclusion that if you did pee yourself then it would feel different than this does right now.

You clean yourself with water and a washcloth, and when you wipe between your legs, you feel that intense pressure again, and you have to sit down to wait to pee this time, but nothing comes out. You try pushing it out, but all that happens is a little bit more of that clear fluid. It's strange, and you're worried about it. You don't remember ever experiencing anything like it before and wonder if perhaps you hurt yourself during your earlier activities or caught a disease somehow, but nothing seems wrong with you otherwise, so you brush it aside for the moment, making a mental note to ask Lady Margaret for advice later when she arrives tomorrow morning. But for now, it's time to get back into bed and cuddle up with Leon again.

You wake up the next morning to find Leon's arm draped across your chest, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and his body pressed up firmly against your back. It's warm and comforting, being held like this, and you can't help but enjoy the sensation of being surrounded by him like a protective cocoon.

His hand moves in a subtle manner, flicking over one of your nipples, and you feel a jolt of pleasure shoot straight through you from that simple contact alone, your thighs pressing together as a sudden heat blooms low in your belly. It feels good having his skin touch yours like this, making you want more of him touching even more places elsewhere on your body, especially after he had made his desire for you clear last night. He wants you, and that knowledge sends another thrill through you, leaving you feeling giddy and excited.

He lets out a soft groan behind you as he pulls you closer towards him until that want is pressed firmly up against your buttocks. You can tell he's already hard, his arousal evident even in his sleep, and you can't deny the effect that has on your own growing neediness that goes beyond wanting to touch him like that again. You remember how good it felt last night when you touched him, how much pleasure he gave himself while you watched him do so, and you find yourself wanting to experience that kind of pleasure firsthand now, too.

You've been told that the women don't experience it, that they have to endure it and that's why the temple made the act of coupling such a chore. But you know that itch between your legs isn't going anywhere anytime soon, that it was real yesterday as well, and it felt amazing when you got what little friction you could by moving around. You wonder how to alleviate this feeling without Leon's assistance. Surely there had to be a way to do it by yourself?

But as you try to move away from him to try and see how you can do it, he tightens his hold on you and buries his nose further into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. "Don't leave," he mumbles sleepily. His lips brush against the sensitive skin there as he speaks, causing you to shiver involuntarily at the sensation, and you feel his cock throb where it's nestled snugly between the cheeks of your ass.

"Good morning, Leon," you say quietly, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair, and you're rewarded by his cock pulsating again, his hips rolling forward against yours instinctively.

"Mmm..." he hums contentedly, nuzzling into your hand. "Morning." His other arm comes up to wrap around your waist and pull you even closer to him, his body seeming to mold perfectly around yours as though the two of you were made for each other. You can't help but sigh happily at the feeling of being held so intimately like this. It feels right somehow, natural even, and you find yourself wanting more of it, wanting to wake up every day like this, safe and secure in his embrace.

But the feeling of his hard shaft rubbing against your backside reminds you that there's something else you need right now, and that thought sends another shiver through you, the heat in your belly flaring brighter than before.

"Leon," you say softly, trying not to let too much of the neediness you're feeling seep into your tone, though you're sure he can feel the tension building inside of you anyway, especially with the way your hips keep twitching backward indiscernibly as though seeking out friction where there is none yet. "Can I ask you for something?"

"Anything," he replies instantly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Anything at all."

You hesitate briefly before continuing. "Do you know if I can do to myself what you did yesterday?"

He goes completely still behind you, his entire body tensing as he processes what you've just said. Then he lets out a shaky breath, his grip on you loosening partly as rises on his elbow, leaning over to look down at you. His pupils are wide and dark with desire, his face flushed, and his breathing roughly controlled as he gazes into your own half-lidded ones.

"What?" he whispers hoarsely, his throat bobbing visibly as he swallows hard, his eyes darting everywhere on your face. You bite your bottom lip nervously before repeating yourself.

"I want to do what you did yesterday. To myself," you say slowly, carefully enunciating each word so he understands exactly what it is you're asking of him here. "Can I do that? Will it help this...?" You gesture vaguely towards your groin area, unsure how else to phrase it without sounding crude or indecent. "This itch?"

"Fuck."

Your eyebrows shoot all the way up to your hairline when you hear him cursing for the first time in your presence. He's always so respectful that the sudden change is quite jarring.

"Is everything okay?"

He drops his head back to your shoulder and groans quietly in frustration, burying his face into your hair. "You can't ask me things like that," he says in a pained tone.

"Why?" you ask, genuinely confused by his reaction. It seems perfectly reasonable to you given the situation at hand. "You were enjoying yourself, weren't you? I'd like to try it."

"Shit..." He lifts his head again and looks down at you, his expression serious and faintly exasperated. "That's called 'masturbation'. And you can do it. And yes, it will ease that 'itch' for you."

"Oh. That's a relief." You smile brightly at him. "Will you show me?"

"Saintess!"

"What?"

"It's broad daylight in the morning, you can't do this to me," he exclaims, his face reddening even more than it already is, and you can't help but giggle at how adorable he looks. You turn around to face him and reach out to cup his cheek, gently stroking your thumb across his cheekbone in an attempt to soothe him.

"I'm not trying to torture you," you assure him gently. "Just tell me how to do it and I'll leave you alone for a bit, alright? Please?"

"You play too much," he complains gruffly, but nevertheless leans into your touch, closing his dark-ringed eyelids and exhaling slowly. He seems calmer now, less frantic than he did earlier, though there's still a noticeable tension in his body. You wait patiently, watching the rise and fall of his bare chest under the blanket, listening to his heartbeat gradually slowing down from its earlier frantic pace. "Lay back."

You comply, settling comfortably atop the mattress, and he takes a moment to study you like that, lying naked beneath him, exposed and vulnerable yet somehow comfortable nonetheless. His gaze travels over every inch of your body, lingering here and there, essentially the same way you studied his last night. It's strangely arousing being observed so closely like this, and you find yourself trying to fend off your squirming under his scrutiny, wanting to cover yourself up somehow but resisting the urge to do so. Instead, you let him look his fill, your own cheeks warming in a blush as you return his stare through lidded eyes.

"Spread your legs," he eventually instructs. You hesitate briefly before obeying, parting your thighs slowly, the cool air of the room caressing your skin as it is exposed to the open space. Leon's breath hitches visibly at the sight, his pupils dilating further as he drinks you in.

This is way too embarrassing. Why did he get to lay perfectly horizontal on the bed yesterday while you're the one on display today? You almost want to ask him if you can switch roles and have him demonstrate it instead.

But it's not like you can take it back now. He's looking at you with such intensity that it makes you shiver, and you can feel the slickness between your legs increasing with each passing second. Your nipples are starting to stiffen and tingle, your breasts feeling fuller than usual, and there's a faint throbbing sensation deep in your pelvis, a need building up within you that demands attention and relief.

"Touch yourself," he orders quietly, his tone low and gravelly, his gaze never leaving yours even for a second. You hesitate once more before reaching down, tentatively running your fingertips along your inner thighs until they finally come into contact with your sex without quite knowing what to do next. "Explore."

"Explore?"

"You're discovering yourself. You have to know where everything is, so you know where to pay attention to the most."

"Everything?" you echo uncertainly. "There's more than one thing?"

"Saintess..." he moans in exasperation, his forehead dropping onto your inner thigh, and he shakes his head slowly, his hair tickling your skin.

"Sorry!" you apologize on the spot. "I just... don't understand."

He sighs again heavily, lifting his head to look at you again, his expression softening. "I'll guide you, okay?"

"Okay but why do you know more about me than I know about myself?"

"Because I've studied it. And I've imagined it a lot," he admits, blushing furiously at his confession, and you can't help but giggle again at how cute he looks like this.

"Oh? You've imagined my... this?" You gesture vaguely towards your groin. "A lot?"

Him looking up at you between your legs like that feels very strange. You're aware of how close his mouth is to you, and it's making the pressure in your belly increase exponentially. It's like there's a string connecting your heart and sex, and every time you look at Leon, that string is pulled tighter, and to what end, you have no idea. All you know is that you want it to keep happening, and you don't want it to ever stop.

"Less talking. Spread yourself open for me. Like this." He takes your wrist in his hand and guides two fingers towards your slit, spreading it apart gently to reveal all its hidden secrets, including the little bud of nerves hidden at its apex. It's so sensitive when air touches it that it's making your hips twitch and your back arch. "Do you see this?"

"Y—es," you stutter, trying your hardest to remain still as he continues guiding your fingers across your folds, teaching you about yourself and your body as he goes along.

"This is your clitoris," he says softly, pressing your fingers against it lightly and causing another shudder of pleasure to course through your entire being, "and it's very sensitive. You can rub it, tap it, flick it, or even suck on it."

"Suck?" You can't imagine yourself bending to that degree, one has to be especially flexible and you're not sure if you are. You've certainly never tried before. "How would I suck on this? There's no way I can bend like that..."

You see that he wants to laugh but presses his lips together at the last second so as not to offend you.

"I can do it for you," he says right after, his tone eager, his words coming out faster than normal, his pupils dilating visibly once again. "I mean... only if you want me to, of course."

You nod shyly, your face heating up considerably at the thought of what he's offering to do for you, and then he shifts lower on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. You instinctively try to close them but he gently pushes them apart again, keeping them open wide enough so he can fit comfortably without hindrance. His hot breath fans across your sensitive flesh, sending shivers up and down your spine, and you have to fight the instinctive urge to squeeze them shut again.

He's looking at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and the intensity of his gaze is almost overwhelming, making you feel vulnerable yet strangely empowered at the same time.

He places a soft kiss directly on your clit and you gasp audibly, arching your back as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you in an attempt to ground yourself.

He looks up at you again, his dark lashes lowered and fluttering, and then he leans forward and places another kiss on your clit before parting his lips and sucking it into his mouth.

The sensation of his tongue flickering over it is indescribable, and you moan softly as he begins licking it in earnest, alternating between slow, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, each one sending sparks of pure ecstasy that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the embarrassing noises you're making.

"No, don't do that," he protests after a few moments, pulling away from your sex briefly, and then he reaches up and takes your wrist in his hand and pulls it away from your face, "don't stifle your beautiful noises. I want to hear you moaning for me, Saintess. I want to know exactly how good I make you feel," he murmurs, and then resumes his task, his lips closing around your clit once more as he resumes his ministrations, his tongue flickering across it faster than before, the suction stronger as well.

"Le-on, this is... Too embarrassing," you whine, your entire body quivering as he continues pleasuring you, his mouth hot and wet against your most intimate parts.

"You'll get used to it," he says reassuringly, his tone gentle yet firm as he looks up at you again, mouth still wrapped around your clit so his words vibrate through it. He releases it with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to it momentarily, and smiles crookedly. "We're just getting started."

His hands come up to grip your hips, holding you steady as he continues to devour you with his mouth, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your buttocks, kneading them roughly, and you're not sure how much more of this you can handle.

You've never felt anything like this before, and you're not sure you want it to stop either, despite your protests, because the pleasure he's giving you right now is unlike anything you've ever experienced. You're completely lost to the sensations, your mind a haze of lust and desire as he continues to worship you with his tongue, his lips and teeth nipping and scraping across your clit and swollen folds, and you're pretty sure that if he were to keep this up, you would explode from the sheer intensity of it all.

He moves lower, his mouth leaving your clit and moving downwards towards your entrance, and he pauses there for a moment, his breath warm against your slit as he takes a deep breath, his nose pressed firmly into the folds, and he inhales deeply, his entire body shuddering violently. "You smell amazing," he breathes out reverently, fiercely as you squirm on the bed beneath him, the heat in your belly flaring up even brighter than ever.

"Please..." you beg him without knowing what you're asking for. It makes him look up at you with a strange light shining in his eyes, something at the opposite spectrum of the reverence you had seen in them last night, and the sight of it sends a thrill of excitement down your spine.

"Please what?" he prompts softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the skin of your inner thighs.

"Please... don't stop," you plead quietly, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you tightly.

"Okay," he agrees simply, lowering his head back down to press a kiss against your slit.

Then he plunges his tongue inside you and you cry out loud, your back arching as your hips buck upwards. You have to bite down on the noise, because you can't believe the sounds you're making, and you're not sure you want him to hear them, even if they're caused by the pleasure he's giving you. But he doesn't seem to care, too focused on his task, his tongue thrusting in and out of you, his fingers digging into your buttocks so hard that it will likely leave bruises later. You're not sure why but the idea of having his marks on your body sends a new wave of desire coursing through you and you can feel yourself gushing into his mouth.

"Leon," you moan, your fingers finding their way to his head and tangling themselves in his silky hair, "I—I need... I—"

He hums questioningly against your cunt and the vibrations make your hips jump, the coil within your belly tightening even more, and you're not sure how much longer you can last, your entire body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, and you're pretty sure you're about to explode into a million pieces.

"I'm... I'm...," you pant breathlessly, unable to articulate the rest of the sentence properly.

He seems to understand something you don't, lowering the arm that's holding you down so the thumb of it can draw circles around your clit, and sliding the fingers of his other hand towards your entrance, circling it before pushing inside, causing you to gasp at the intrusion.

He pumps the digits in and out of you slowly at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of his tongue, and you can't help but moan loudly as the pressure builds within you, your muscles clenching around him as the pleasure becomes unbearable, and you can't hold back anymore, you're going to burst, you're going to burst, you're going to burst—

"Wait, please, wait, stop," you gasp, your hands pushing at his head weakly, and he pulls away from your sex instantly, looking up at you in concern. His chin is slick with your fluids and his lips swollen from his ministrations. He's breathing heavily, and in daylight, you can see how red from chest up he is.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks worriedly, his hands rubbing your inner thighs soothingly.

You shake your head, avoiding his eyes as you have to disappointingly say, "I have to use the chamber pot."

You're not sure if this is the right time to say this or not but it feels necessary given the circumstances, and you're afraid that if you don't speak up now, you'll regret it later.

He blinks owlishly, seemingly taken aback by your statement. "What?"

"I have to pee," you say, face burning furiously as you try to explain yourself further. "I don't think I'll be able to hold it any longer if you continue."

He stares at you for a long moment, his expression completely blank. Then suddenly he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back as his entire body shakes with mirth, his shoulders trembling as he struggles to contain himself, his laughter ringing out loudly in the quiet room.

You frown, feeling a bit offended. "Why are you laughing?!"

He wipes away the tears from his eyelashes with the back of his hand as he tries to compose himself, taking several deep breaths before he finally calms down enough to answer you. "I'm sorry, it's just that... Well, it's normal. It's not actually pee, and you don't have to worry about it leaking out or anything."

"It's not pee?"

"No. It's called orgasming, and it's completely normal," he assures you gently, his tone softening considerably. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I did too yesterday when you were touching me, remember? That white liquid?"

You nod, relieved to hear him confirm your suspicions, though still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that he knows what happened earlier. "Okay," you mumble shyly, covering your face with your hands, unable to look at him directly.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning forward until he can kiss each knuckle, and then he pulls your hand away from your face and kisses the tip of your nose. "It's okay. There's no need to feel ashamed of your own body."

You nod again, biting your lip nervously. "Okay."

"Can we continue now?" he asks, his tone hopeful. "I want to make you come."

"I've never... come before," you say, fiddling with the sheets between your fingers. "How would I even know if I did?"

"It's pretty unmistakable," he chuckles, and he kisses you softly then, his tongue darting into your mouth to taste yours, and he moans against your lips as you reciprocate the action eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

The kiss lasts longer than either of you intended, and by the time he pulls away, you're both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed from exertion, the need within you growing stronger than ever, and you can't wait any longer; you want him to make you come, and you want him to do it now.

"Would you like to go to the bathroom first, just to be sure?" he asks quietly, his hand resting on your hip.

You shake your head. "No. Just continue."

"Alright." He smiles and kisses you once more before returning to your sex, and this time, there's no hesitation or gentleness, only pure lust and desire as he plunges his tongue inside you again and resumes thrusting his fingers into you, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit, and what's been cooling down starts building back up slowly, and you can already feel yourself clenching around his fingers as the pressure within you grows.

The pressure on your clit dissipates for a moment, and the next, he's removing your hand from the grip you have on the sheets, and places it on his head, and guides your fingers so they curl into his soft locks. "Hold onto me," he says, and he resumes eating you out, his fingers pumping faster than ever, and he's relentless, his tongue and lips working in tandem to bring you closer to the edge, and you're moaning louder than before, your hips rolling upwards to meet him halfway, the coil within you tightening even more.

The noise he makes when you pull his hair goes straight towards your belly, and the way he's lapping and slurping on your sex like that is obscene. You're pretty sure he's licking all the way back to your ass, but you can't really focus on that right now, the pleasure within you mounting rapidly.

"Tell me how I'm making you feel," he says after a few moments, his mouth still pressed firmly against you, the eye contact he's maintaining while he does so making your insides clench.

"I— It feels good," you manage to say through gritted teeth, your entire body trembling.

"Yeah? Just good? Tell me more," he encourages you, his tongue darting into you again, and your hiss transitions into a loud moan as he continues to work you over.

"I'm so close," you gasp, your thighs closing around his head, "I'm... I'm..."

"Come for me, then. Don't fight it. Let it happen," he murmurs, his words vibrating against your clit as his tongue flickers across it rapidly, his fingers pumping in and out of you harder than ever.

"Leon..." you whimper, your grip on his hair tightening as he sucks your clit between his lips and flicks his tongue over it quickly, and you're done. You cry out loudly as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your back arching as your thighs clamp down around his head and your hips jerk upwards, and he holds you steady through it all, his tongue never leaving your sex until every last drop has been wrung out of you. You've been dropped off a cliff, and the fall has your insides quivering and your hips spasming. You're not sure what's happening, but you're pretty sure you've died and got your first glimpse of Ethelion.

The euphoria is incomparable, the pleasure overwhelming, and you're not sure how long it takes before the waves of ecstasy finally subside, your muscles relaxing and your body going limp beneath him.

He pulls away from you slowly, his lips lingering on your sex as he kisses you one final time, his tongue cleaning the remnants of your climax from your slit and inner thighs before moving upwards to lick his own fingers clean, the sight of which sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core.

When he's finished, he crawls up to lay next to you, pulling you close to him, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. "You're so beautiful when you come. It's a shame you can't see it."

You're sure you've made the most embarrassing faces and sounds, and can't begin to fathom why it would be attractive to him at all. But the feeling of him holding you is comforting, the warmth of his body soothing, and you find yourself nodding weakly as he strokes your hair gently, his touch gentle yet firm, and he's so strong, and so solid, and he makes you feel safe and secure, and you know that nothing bad will happen to you as long as he's here, that you're protected from harm.

"Was it as good as you thought it would be?" he asks after a few minutes of silence, his tone light and playful.

"I didn't think I would end up screaming," you say quietly, burying your face into his chest. "How come you weren't screaming like that? It's unfair."

He laughs and kisses your sticky temple, his lips caressing your skin affectionately, and he hums thoughtfully as he considers your question. "I suppose I've had some experience."

"You have?"

"Mm." He tilts his head, and you wonder who he did these kinds of things with. It was probably a lot of people, considering how skilled he is. The thought of him touching other people like this sends a sharp pang of jealousy through you, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy at the thought.

You try to ignore the bitter feeling in your chest and instead focus on the way he's holding you close to him, on the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear, on the way he's caressing you with such gentleness and care.

"Is there anything else you'd like to try?" he asks after a while, and you lift your head to look at him, and he's smiling down at you, his dark lashes lowered, his pupils wide and dark, and the expression he's giving you is so full of adoration and desire that it makes your heart flutter.

"I suppose the only thing left is you putting it in?" you suggest hesitantly, not sure how he'll react to the idea of taking your virginity, but he only grins widely, and he rolls over on top of you, his weight settling between your thighs as he presses himself against you, and he kisses you deeply, passionately, and it makes you moan softly into his mouth as you wrap your arms around him.

"There's so much more to it than that, and I'll show you all of it," he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently against yours, and you can feel his cock, hard and thick between your legs, and it feels good, so good, and you can't wait any longer. "But first, let me give you a chance to catch your breath."

He rolls them over so you're on top now, your thighs splayed over his, and he leans forward to kiss you again, his hands running up and down your back soothingly.

"I don't want you to spend your day sore all over, so the sex will have to be postponed to a time where we can afford the time to be lazy," he says, and you nod, understanding his reasoning. It would be unwise to do anything that might hinder your ability to work later today.

"That's fair," you agree, running your fingers through his hair. "What can we do?"

"Let me teach you more," he suggests, and then he's pulling you closer to him, his mouth latching onto your neck, his tongue and teeth grazing your skin lightly. You tilt your head to give him better access, letting out a soft sigh as he sucks on your pulse point. His hands wander down to your hips, gripping them tightly before sliding around to cup your buttocks, squeezing them firmly. He's still hard beneath you, and the feeling of his erection rubbing against your inner thigh has your insides clenching in anticipation of what's to come.

He seems content just to touch you like this for now, though, his lips moving slowly from one side of your throat to the other, leaving trails of kisses along the way, his tongue tracing patterns on your flesh, his teeth nipping gently at random spots here and there. Every so much he pauses and looks up at you, eyelids half-closed and heavy-lidded, and the sight of him gazing up at you sends a shiver down your spine and makes heat pool between your legs once more.

He lays you down on the mattress, then sits back on his knees between your thighs, looking down at you with an intense hunger that has your breath hitching in your chest. His gaze travels over your body slowly, his pupils expanding as he takes in the sight before him, his lips parted just enough to show the tips of his teeth as he runs his hands along your sides and over your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples teasingly.

The next second, you find yourself on your belly, Leon on top of you, the thick head of his shaft pressing against your slit, and he's rubbing himself along it in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, the friction sending little jolts of pleasure through your core.

"This is called," he says, pausing to kiss your shoulder, "intercrural."

You try to concentrate on his words, but finding it difficult as his length slides between your folds, the sensation making you gasp and arch beneath him. His cock is leaking, slicking the way for him as he continues to grind against you, his breath warm against your skin.

You shift to get him inside you, but he moves with you, his length never quite reaching your entrance. You groan in frustration, trying to lift your hips to meet his thrusts, but he simply pushes you back down into the bed with a chuckle.

"Leon, please," you whine, wriggling beneath him impatiently, and he laughs again, his fingers digging into your hip as he holds you steady.

"What do you think you need to do?"

"Ask nicely?"

"Nice try, but no. Do you remember what we’re doing?"

"Intercrural?"

"Yes. Good," he praises, rewarding you by pushing the tip inside you briefly before pulling out again. Your entire body shudders at the feeling of having him inside you, however briefly, and you push back against him eagerly, wanting more. "Up."

With a firm grip on your torso, he lifts you up so your back is flush against his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place, and he resumes grinding himself between your thighs, the new angle letting him slide deeper than before, and the pressure against your clit has you moaning loudly as he rocks against you, his other hand coming to your front to play with your nipples, rolling and pinching them between his fingers.

He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his lips find your earlobe, nibbling on it as he grinds harder, his cock sliding between your folds faster, his hips snapping forward sharply, and the wet sounds of his shaft rubbing against the crevice between your tightly pressed thighs and sex is lewd and loud. The heat building within you is becoming unbearable, your body trembling with need, and you can't help but cry out as he continues to tease you, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipples mercilessly.

"Leon," you whimper, reaching behind you to clutch at his hair, and he growls low in his throat, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he picks up the pace, his movements growing rougher and less controlled, and the head of his erection is bumping against your clit, and it's driving you mad with lust and desire.

"Saintess..." he groans in your ear, and then his hand slides lower to rub circles on your clit, the added stimulation sending you over the edge. "My Saintess... Fall with me. Fall with me!"

You whimper as you come, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, your vision blurring as stars dance across your eyelids. Your walls clamp down around nothing, and you can feel yourself clenching and spasming as your orgasm rips through you, your juices gushing out of you and coating his length in your essence. He keeps rubbing at your clit throughout, drawing out every last ounce of your release until there's nothing left, and then finally, his hips still against yours, his cock throbbing against the crevice of your thighs as he spills himself between them, coating your inner thighs in thick ropes of release.

He slumps forward on top of you, his weight heavy and comforting as his cock softens against you, and he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder blade, his breath warm against your skin. You lay there together for a while, both of you panting heavily as you come down from your highs, and you can feel his heart pounding against your back, its rhythm matching your own. Eventually, however, he rolls off you. He gets up and comes back with a damp cloth to wipe the stickiness between your legs, and the coolness feels heavenly on your overheated skin. Once he's done, he tosses the rag to the floor before climbing back into bed next to you.

"Bath?"

When you wake up again, Leon isn't next to you, but there is a note on his pillow that informs you he had to go to the border for urgent matters and will be gone for at least two days.

The note makes you want to curl back up under the covers and fall back asleep, but you can't. You have duties to attend to as the Lady of the house, and you can't afford to spend all day moping in bed. So instead, you drag yourself out from beneath the blankets, and stumble to the bathing chamber with a pep in your step, where you splash some water onto your face to wake yourself up.

You look at yourself in the mirror, studying the reflection staring back at you. Your hair is disheveled and messy, and there are dark circles under your red-rimmed eyelids. Leon told you he wouldn't push your body to its limits, but wrung every drop of pleasure he could from it, and it left you boneless and exhausted. Every muscle aches pleasantly, and every inch of your skin feels tender to the touch, especially where his bites have broken the surface.

But none of it matters. You've never been happier.

You finish dressing and make your way downstairs. You have several letters to write today, not only to keep the correspondence with Jill and Claire updated, but also with other ladies they've introduced you to. With each letter, you hope to expand your social network a little bit more, so you may form friendships beyond their group. You've been told to be careful about networking before branching out about investments and business deals by Jill, since men tend to take advantage of women who want to venture into those fields, something her mother warned them about. At least she trusts you enough to take things at a leisurely pace to test waters before jumping at every opportunity that presents itself.

Jill has even invited you to have lunch at her mansion and introduce you to more women involved in similar fields as soon as possible the next season, something you happily accepted.

Even though you're tired beyond belief, there's something almost electrifying coursing through your veins that leaves you feeling energetic despite your lack of rest. Gaining back that connection with Leon, now stronger than ever, has you elated to no end. If someone told you years ago that one night would change your life forever, you wouldn't believe them; now, however, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to experience this level of fulfillment and joy in life, because you never knew just how lonely you truly were until he stepped back into your life.

Leon is panicking.

It's a sensation he isn't accustomed to, not since his days of rigorous training, when his captain had drilled into him the importance of remaining calm on the battlefield. Panic had no place there. Fear had no place. In war, emotions were vulnerabilities—open wounds to be exploited. He had learned to close those wounds, to stitch them up tight and keep his composure, no matter the chaos surrounding him. For years, he had perfected the art of restraint, his face a mask of stoicism, his body a fortress of discipline.

But now, sitting in the dim interior of his carriage, away from the sanctuary of your presence, that fortress is crumbling.

His heart hammers in his chest, and his hands tremble where they rest on his thighs, clenched into fists. His pulse thrums in his ears, a deafening rush of blood that drowns out any sense of calm. It’s disorienting, this unshakable sense of losing control, of being unmoored from the anchor he had always relied on—himself.

His thoughts race, each one more torturous than the last. He can't stop them from spiraling, can't stop the rising tide of emotion that's threatening to break the dam he's worked so hard to maintain.

Fuck. He loves you. He’s loved you for as long as he can remember. Since that first moment when he had seen your face at the temple, luminous in the soft glow of the candles that surrounded you, bathed in the light of Ethelion's grace. He had been young then, just a boy, but even then, something had stirred inside him—a yearning, a devotion so pure, so all-consuming, that it felt like a divine calling. To protect you. To serve you. To worship you.

But never to love you. Not like this.

He hadn’t allowed himself to call it love, not in the beginning. It had been too dangerous, too close to sacrilege. How could a man like him—a knight, a mere mortal—dare to love someone chosen by the gods? He’d convinced himself, over and over again, that what he felt was nothing more than infatuation, a boyish admiration for a figure of holiness. He had to believe it. Anything else would have been unbearable.

Because to acknowledge the truth—that it wasn’t just devotion, that it wasn’t just admiration, that it was a deep, aching love—would mean admitting that you were forever out of reach. You weren’t just anyone. You belonged to something greater, something higher. A god. Ethelion. And Leon? He was allowed to stand beside you only as a protector, only as your shield. But never as your lover. Never as your equal.

And yet, despite all of that, despite the walls he had built around his heart, he had fallen. Harder than he could have ever imagined.

He’d done the unthinkable.

He’d claimed you.

The memory of last night surges forward, unbidden, vivid in his mind. The taste of your lips, the feel of your body pressed against his, the way you had called out his name—his name—as he brought you to the brink of pleasure. You, the Saintess, the epitome of purity and virtue, had wanted him, had given yourself to him. Willingly. No hesitation, no fear.

It had been everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever denied himself. And it was wrong.

But it had also been the most right thing he had ever done.

Leon groans, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as if he can pull the thoughts out of his head. He feels himself hardening again at the mere thought of you—the way your body had responded to him, the way you had looked at him, not with judgment or disappointment, but with trust. With desire.

And that terrifies him.

You trust him. You, the one person in the world who should be beyond reproach, beyond the reach of sin, had trusted him with your body, your heart, your soul. You had chosen him. And that trust, that willingness to let him in, is what scares him more than anything.

What if I break it?

That’s the question gnawing at him, the one that keeps replaying in his mind like a dark, endless loop. You gave yourself to him, fully and without reservation, and now he’s terrified of what that means. Terrified of what he’s already done.

Because he has defiled you, hasn’t he? He’s tainted you with his desires, with his need. You were meant to remain untouchable, a beacon of light, a symbol of all that was good and pure in the world. And now? Now you’re his.

He half-expects to be swallowed up by hell after that thought.

Fuck, he can’t stop thinking about it.

His breeches feel impossibly tight, and Leon curses under his breath. The heat of arousal courses through him, his body betraying him even now, when his mind is at war with itself. His thoughts shift, darker, hungrier. He remembers the way you had whispered his name, your voice soft and breathless, your body trembling beneath his touch. He remembers the look in your eyes—like you wanted to be consumed by him.

He wants that. He wants to make you his again, to feel your body wrapped around his, to hear you moan his name, to see you come apart beneath him. And the worst part? He knows you want it too.

He should be ashamed. He is ashamed. But there’s a deeper part of him, a part that he’s been trying to suppress for years, that whispers something different. It tells him that you’re his now, that you’ve always been his. And that he has every right to take what you offer. Every right to claim you, again and again, until the entire world knows that you belong to him and no one else.

The thought makes him groan again, low and desperate. He can already imagine it—the way you’d look beneath him, the way you’d whisper his name like a prayer, the way he’d ruin you, over and over, until there was nothing left of the saintess, nothing left of the woman you used to be.

Just his. His to worship. His to defile.

Leon shifts uncomfortably in his seat, willing his body to calm down, but it’s no use. The arousal is too strong, the desire too overwhelming. And it’s not just lust. It’s love. He loves you. He has always loved you. And now that he’s had a taste of what it’s like to be yours, to have you want him in return, he knows there’s no going back.

But even with that knowledge, the fear lingers. The shame lingers. Because you’re still the Saintess, aren’t you? Even though you’re no longer bound to the temple, even though you’ve left that life behind, you’re still... untouchable. Or at least, you should be.

God, what has he done?

Leon feels sick with it, the weight of his own desires pressing down on him like a vice. He’s tainted you, hasn’t he? He’s dragged you down into the mire of his own lust, his own sin. And yet... you came willingly. You wanted him. You chose him.

He can still hear your voice in his head, soft and soothing, telling him that it was okay. That it was what you wanted. That you weren’t ashamed. That you didn’t regret it.

But he does.

No, that’s not quite right. He doesn’t regret you. He could never regret you. What he regrets is his weakness. His inability to stay away, to be the man he’s supposed to be. The man you deserve. He should have kept his distance, should have respected the boundaries between you. But instead, he let his feelings control him. He let his desires control him.

The carriage jolts as it hits a bump in the road, and Leon’s breath catches in his throat, the movement jarring his already fevered body. He’s hard—painfully so—and the more he tries to suppress it, the more it overwhelms him. His hand is still resting dangerously close to his aching cock, blunt fingernails digging into his thigh as he tries to resist the temptation to touch himself.

He should be above this, he thinks bitterly.

Another bump causes his thumb to slip down towards the inside of his thigh because of the force with which he was pressing on it, the friction sending a shiver up his spine. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his head tipping back against the seat.

Sir Leon, you had whispered during that night, your tone soft, commanding, with a cruel kindness that only made him more desperate. He’d been on his knees before you, trembling under the weight of his own shame, of his desire. And you had looked down on him with that serene, knowing smile, as though you had always known what he wanted, what he needed. You had given him permission to feel, to want, to submit.

He shudders, his hand brushing over the front of his breeches as the memory takes hold, the rush of arousal overwhelming his guilt. His mind drifts back to that night, to the way you had taken control, how you had made him feel safe in his submission. You had taken his hands in yours, guiding him through the motions, making him believe that it wasn’t him acting on his desires. It was you.

“Sir Leon,” your voice echoes in his head again, and Leon’s breath hitches as his fingers twitch involuntarily over the bulge in his pants. He tries to ignore it, to focus on the scenery passing outside the carriage window instead, but it’s no use.

His hand moves of its own accord, cupping himself through the fabric, the pressure making his hips jerk forward. He can feel himself growing harder, the ache intensifying. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this. He’s already defiled you enough. He should have more restraint.

In his mind’s eye, you stand before him again, the ex-Saintess, your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down until he’s kneeling in front of you. The image is so vivid, so real, that he can almost feel the warmth of your touch, the softness of your skin against his.

“Look at you,” you say softly, your tone so sweet it feels like a knife twisting in his gut. “Kneeling there like a dog for me. You’ve fallen so far, haven’t you? My Sir Leon…”

Leon lets out a choked breath, his hand moving to unbutton his breeches as he succumbs to the fantasy, his body trembling with need. His cock springs free, hard and throbbing in his hand, and he bites down on his lip to keep from groaning aloud. The carriage is still moving, the faint sounds of the wheels turning and the horses trotting providing a strange rhythm to his spiraling thoughts.

He strokes himself slowly, his mind lost in the fantasy, in the way you had looked at him that night with such grace and poise, your words cutting into him with a cruel, gentle precision. You had known exactly how to break him down, how to strip away his defenses until there was nothing left but the raw truth of his desires.

"How pathetic," you say in his fantasy in mock sympathy, your lips curling into a smile. "What would Ethelion think of you now? His most devout, debasing himself for me, stroking yourself like a common pervert. You’re not fit to call yourself a knight, Sir Leon."

He shudders, balls tightening as he imagines you standing over him, watching him with that amused, almost bored expression, like you’re barely interested in his suffering, in his need. It’s humiliating, degrading, but somehow that only makes the pleasure sharper, more intense. He can almost hear you laughing softly, a cruel, teasing sound that sends a shiver down his spine.

"Look at yourself," you say, dripping with scorn. "You’re a mess. A disgrace. You’re not worthy of serving me. Not like this."

The words cut into him like a blade, but instead of recoiling, Leon finds himself pushing closer to the edge, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his hand moves with a frantic urgency. He’s so close, so damned close, and your voice only pushes him further, deeper into the depths of his own shame and lust. He doesn’t care if Ethelion sees him like this, doesn’t care if the world sees him like this. He just wants to feel, to chase the high of release that only you can give him.

"You want to come, don’t you?" you ask him, and he nods, a choked sob escaping his lips as his strokes become more desperate. "There are people right outside of this carriage listening in to their lord shaking his hips like a dog in heat with his tongue out, and you want to come. You’re not even a man, you’re a slave to your own desires. A slave to me. Go ahead, Sir Leon. Make a mess of yourself. Show me how pathetic you truly are."

And he does, he begs and pleads for mercy, for relief. His hushed words are a jumbled, incoherent mess, a litany of pleas and apologies as his hips buck wildly, seeking that final release. You watch him with that same knowing smile, your eyes glittering with something like amusement, like satisfaction, and Leon can’t help but wonder if you’re enjoying this, if you’re reveling in the power you hold over him. The power to reduce him to this, to this desperate, needy creature, pleading for your mercy.

"Come," you command, your voice soft but firm, and Leon’s breath catches in his throat, his body tensing as the orgasm finally hits, a wave of ecstasy crashing over him as he spills his seed onto his cupped hand, his body shuddering and shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment, he feels weightless, euphoric, the world fading away until there’s nothing but the pleasure, the relief, the satisfaction of being broken down and rebuilt under your touch. He collapses back against the seat, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat as stares down at his hand, sticky with his own cum, and a wave of guilt washes over him, the shame so intense that it nearly chokes him. But even as he feels the guilt, the shame, there’s a small part of him that revels in it, that takes pleasure in being the broken, debased knight, the one who has fallen from grace and found solace in his own humiliation.

He sits there for a long moment, his breathing slowly returning to normal, the guilt and shame settling over him like a heavy cloak. With a sigh, he reaches into his satchel for a handkerchief, cleaning up the mess he’s made of himself, trying to erase the evidence of his sin, of his desire, of his submission. But no matter how much he tries to scrub away the stain, he knows that it’s there, a permanent mark on his soul, a reminder of the man he’s become.

He’s a sinner, a lost cause. But he’s also a man in love, a man willing to sacrifice everything, to debase himself, to surrender to you, his Saintess, his salvation and his downfall.

Leon arrives back at the manor well past midnight, the long hours of travel evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the way fatigue clings to his bones. He’s exhausted, mentally and physically, but the thought of seeing you again fills him with a strange mix of yearning and dread. After weeks spent at the border, surrounded by soldiers and the heavy tension of political unrest, all he wants is to be near you, to feel your presence.

The halls are silent as he walks through the dimly lit corridors, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. His boots are heavy against the stone floor, but he keeps his steps quiet, not wanting to disturb the sleeping household. His thoughts race as he makes his way toward your shared bedroom, the weight of his emotions settling heavily in his chest. He’s been gone for so long, and every step brings him closer to the moment he’s been imagining for days.

When he finally reaches the door, Leon pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob as he takes a deep breath. He pushes the door open slowly, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet night, and steps inside, and the sight that greets him makes him linger on the threshold.

You’re curled up on the bed, fast asleep, the blankets twisted around you as though you’ve been tossing and turning. The soft rise and fall of your chest are a sign of peaceful slumber, face turned away from the moonlight spilling in through the window, the gentle curve of your body bathed in a soft glow. Drapes of rich fabrics adorn the canopy above you, creating an intimate space that wraps around you like a cocoon, making it appear as if you were held aloft, suspended in time. It's a painting come alive, the kind he'd seen in temples and palaces on a much grander scale, a testament of humanity's greatness. It makes him feel insignificant yet like a god among men to share his room, his life with you.

The sight makes his heart swell with affection, the worries and concerns that had been weighing him down giving way to something warm, something tender. He closes the door behind him carefully, not wanting to wake you, and begins to undress, shedding his clothes as quietly as possible until he's left only in his tunic and trousers.

As he slips into bed next to you, he lets out a contented sigh, exhaustion seeping into his bones. He feels restless and worn out in equal parts, but there's comfort too in having you so close. The warmth of your body radiates against him as he lies there, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, marveling at the delicate curve of your jaw, the softness of your hair splayed out against the pillowcase.

He reaches out tentatively, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, and you stir in your sleep, a soft murmur escaping your lips. His touch lingers on your skin for a moment before he withdraws his hand, not wanting to disturb your slumber. A small part of him wishes you were awake, that he could talk to you about the events at the border, but he pushes those thoughts away.

You stir again beside him, rolling over to lay on your side and facing away from Leon, and it feels as if he's somehow in the shadows away from the gaze of god, the moon, and the stars.

It starts small, innocent enough. His fingers barely graze the fabric of the blanket bunching around your waist, a featherlight touch, as if testing the waters. The warmth of your body seeps through the material, igniting a spark in his chest that quickly spreads, making his breath catch in his throat. He pulls his hand back, flexing his fingers as if he’d been burned, but the sensation lingers, ghosting over his skin.

What the fuck is he doing?

He squeezes his eyes shut again, trying to shake off the haze that clouded his thoughts, but the need only grows stronger. Listening for any changes in your breathing, making sure that you were deep asleep, he inches closer, the mattress dipping beneath his weight.

He's zeroed in on the bare skin of your shoulder where your chemise has slipped down. His hand moves again, slower this time, hovering just above, fingers trembling. He wasn’t touching you yet, but the proximity alone made his pulse quicken. He could feel the warmth radiating from your skin, so inviting, so tantalizingly close.

This isn't exactly wrong. I'm allowed to snuggle up to my wife.

The thought gives him permission, or at least that’s what he tells himself. He lets his fingers skim over your shoulder, the contact sending a jolt through him that makes him let out a long sigh. The softness of your skin beneath his fingertips is divine, the smoothness so different from anything he’s ever known. He can feel your warmth seeping into him, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing against his touch.

A small part of him knows he should pull away, that this was crossing a line, but the need was too strong, the desire too potent. He traces a finger along the line of your collarbone, marveling at the delicate curve, at how something so simple can make his heart race. He lets his hand rest at the crook of your neck, feeling the soft thump of your pulse beneath his palm. He can't help but think of the way your heart beats, how it's the same rhythm as his own, and how this shared lifeblood connects him to you in ways he never thought possible.

You shift again, humming something incomprehensible, and Leon freezes, his heart pounding in his chest. But you don't wake, and after a moment, he relaxes again, his fingers resuming their gentle exploration.

He lets his hand drift lower, tracing the dip between your collarbones, the hollow of your throat, the slope of your sternum. The fabric of your chemise shifts beneath his touch, the material so thin that it feels like almost nothing at all. He can feel the swell of your breasts, the way they rise and fall with each breath, and he aches to cup them in his hands, to feel the weight of them, the softness.

Fuck. Fuck.

He bites back a groan, his cock growing uncomfortably hard in his trousers. He wants you so badly it hurts, wants to bury himself in you, to claim you in every way possible. But he holds himself back, contenting himself with these small, stolen touches, the ones that make him feel alive and terrified all at once.

He's so hard that it almost hurts, and he wants to grind his hips against you to relieve the pressure building inside him. But the thought of taking things that far, of crossing that line without your knowledge or consent, makes him recoil from himself.

No. This isn’t right. It’s not right at all. You’re better than this, Leon.

With a sigh, he withdraws his hand, pulling away from you reluctantly. The absence of your warmth leaves him feeling cold and empty, but he knows he's done the right thing. He rolls over onto his back, his body rigid with tension as he stares at the ceiling, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock and the ache in his chest.

He closes his eyes, taking deep, measured breaths, willing himself to calm down.

He tries to focus on the sound of the wind outside, the creaking of the old house as it settles in the night, the distant hoot of an owl somewhere in the forest. But no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, the image of you—soft, vulnerable, trusting—is seared into his mind.

Yeah, he needs a bath.

Careful not to disturb you, Leon pushes himself up out of bed and pads across the room, the cool floorboards soothing against his bare feet. He opens the door, the hinges weakly creaking, and slips out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The corridor is dark and silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering in through the windows. He makes his way down the stairs, his footsteps echoing softly in the stillness, and heads to the bathing chambers.

Once inside, Leon lights the candles, illuminating the room in a warm, flickering light. The room is spacious and luxurious, with a large tub of gleaming marble and an assortment of bottles filled with fragrant oils and soaps. He walks to the wooden bucket and pumps water, the rhythmic sound of the handle filling the room, and once it's full, he pours the water into the tub, letting the steam curling off the surface fog his face and warm his skin.

He strips off his clothes, his muscles tensing as he feels the cool air against his heated flesh. He can't ignore his erection, the way it throbs and aches with a desperate need.

He steps into the tub, hissing at the sensation of hot water against his skin. He sinks down into it, submerging his body until only his head remains above water, and he lets out a sigh of relief. The heat soothes his tired muscles, relaxes his tense shoulders, and he feels himself drifting, his thoughts becoming hazy and unfocused.

He closes his eyes, trying to ignore the insistent throb of his cock, the way it strains against his stomach, demanding attention. He tries to focus on the sensation of the water against his skin, the way it licks at his flesh, caresses him, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. To the soft curve of your shoulder, the way your skin felt against his fingertips, the warmth of your body so close to his.

The marble of the bath feels cool against his nape as he rests his head on the rim, the heat from the bath causing sweat to bead on his brow and dampening his hair. His breath echoes off the walls of the bathing chamber, the sound of the water sloshing gently against the sides of the tub providing a soothing background noise. But even that can't drown out the insistent throb of his arousal, the way it pulses with each heartbeat, demanding attention, demanding release.

He ends up dipping under, the water enveloping him, and he opens his eyes, staring up at the distorted image of the ceiling through the rippling surface. His hair floats around his face, and he feels weightless, suspended between the reality of his desire and the fantasy of his mind. It feels like an eternity passes, his lungs burning as his heart thrums, and just when he thinks he can't hold his breath any longer, he resurfaces with a gasp.

He combs his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it away from his face, and—

"You're back."

He startles, jerking upright and causing the water to slosh around wildly, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he turns to face you.

You're standing there in the doorway of the bathhouse, your silhouette outlined in the candlelight, and there's a look on your face that he can't quite read. You seem surprised to see him there, your eyes wide and bright, reflecting the flickering flames. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you're about to say something, but the words seem caught in your throat.

He can't help but admire the way you look in the dim light, the soft curves of your body visible through the sheer fabric of your nightgown. His eyes linger on the way the material clings to your hips, draping over your thighs and accentuating every movement as you step further into the room. He has to force himself to tear his gaze away from the outline of your breasts, the delicate swell of them drawing his attention despite his efforts to remain respectful. He's suddenly aware of his own nakedness, of the way the water licks at his skin, the way it exposes him to you in a way that makes his breath catch and his pulse quicken. He tries to sink lower in the bath, hoping that the water will hide his body, his desire, but it's no use.

"Why did you come all the way over here? We have our own bath," you say quietly, sitting down on a stool and leaning against the edge of the tub, resting your chin on your folded arms. The fabric of your nightgown shifts slightly, revealing the bare skin of your shoulder, and his eyes are drawn to it like moths to a flame. He's acutely aware of how close you are, of the way he can reach out and touch you, the way he can smell the faint scent of soap and perfume on your skin from your nightly bath. He wants to lean in closer, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and inhale your scent, but he holds himself back, his muscles tensing with the effort.

He swallows hard, trying to find his voice, the sound echoing off the walls of the bathhouse. "I didn't want to disturb your rest."

There's a beat of silence, the sound of dripping water and crackling candles filling the space between you. Your gaze is steady, unyielding, as if you can see right through his flimsy excuses and straight into his heart. And maybe you can, because you've always been able to read him like an open book, ever since that day in the temple gardens when you found him as a young boy, struggling to breathe through an asthma attack and crying from the fear of dying.

"You're not doing a very good job at that," you finally say, the corner of your mouth quivering in a wry smile that makes his chest tighten and his pulse race. You know him too well, know all his secrets and fears, and yet you're here, sitting beside him in the bathhouse, offering him comfort and companionship.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. And he is sorry, sorry for waking you, sorry for being so distracted, so consumed with thoughts of you that he can't seem to think straight anymore.

"Don't be," you reply, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Your touch is gentle, tender, and it makes him ache with longing. "I missed you."

His eyes flutter close when you start carding your fingers through his hair. It feels so good to be close to you again, to be touched by you in such a simple, affectionate way that he can't help but savor it. But then his thoughts wander again, imagining you in the bath with him, your naked bodies pressed together, the water lapping at your skin as you move against him. He can picture it all too vividly, the way your breasts would feel against his chest, the way your legs would wrap around his waist as he thrust into you, the way your voice would sound in the stillness of the night, gasping and moaning in his ear. He shudders, biting back a groan, and tries to push those images away, but they cling to the corners of his mind like shadows.

"You're so tense," you observe, your fingers still moving through his hair, and there's a hint of concern in your voice.

"It's...it's nothing," he lies, trying to sound casual, but his voice comes out strained and breathless.

"Too tired, huh? Let me wash your hair. Can you hand me that?"

He hesitates for a moment, the water swirling around him, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, slowly, he reaches over the edge of the tub, grabs the bar of soap, and hands it to you. You dip the soap into the water and rub it together in the palms of your hands until suds form. You begin to work the soap into his scalp, massaging it in slow circles, your fingers firm but gentle against his skin. His eyes drift shut, his body relaxing under your touch.

The feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp is almost unbearable, and the way you're looking at him, with so much affection and tenderness, makes him feel weak. He can't remember the last time someone has touched him like this, with such care and intimacy.

"This is lily soap," you muse, your fingers continuing their slow, deliberate movements. "Did you know these were on the brink of extinction in the capital for a while that I thought I could only find one on an auction or something? Fun fact, when you're a maid, you wash both yourself and your clothes with the same soap, so it has a shorter lifespan. But even with that it was so jarring to find out store after store and apothecary after apothecary didn't have this. I wasted an entire off-day running around to find a bar of soap that the next day it was like I worked on a construction for a week. It's funny to think how I used to have to be so careful in not wasting even the tiniest bit, and now I can have a whole basket to myself."

Leon listens to you talk, his mind foggy. He's never washed with your signature smell before, and now it's clinging to his hair and skin like a second layer. It's like you've somehow claimed him as yours without even realizing it. The scent is so strong that he can almost taste it, and it's making him lightheaded in a way that has nothing to do with the steam from the bath. His scalp tingles, and he has to fight back a groan when your fingertips brush against the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He wants to tell you how much he's missed you, how he thought about you every day while he was away, how he's been longing to feel your touch again. But the words catch in his throat, and all he can do is sink further into the tub, letting the hot water envelop him as you continue to wash his hair and entertain yourself by twirling strands into shapes and figures, or perhaps just to play with it.

"Don't fall asleep, now," you say with a laugh, splashing water on him.

"I won't," he murmurs, but his eyelids are already growing heavy, the warmth and comfort lulling him into a drowsy haze.

"You're not very convincing," you tease, your voice low and soft, like velvet. "I can see those eyes closing. What's so interesting about a bathtub's rim anyway?"

He opens his eyes to look at you. Your face is hovering upside down from his perspective, and you're giving him a small smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. There's a playful glint in your eyes, like you're enjoying teasing him. He can't help but smile back, feeling a surge of affection for you.

You lean down to give him a chaste kiss, your hair falling in curtains around him, your mouth warm and sweet against his, "I'm going to wash this off, alright?"

He closes his eyes as you begin to rinse his hair, the water cascading over his head in a soothing rhythm. The scent of the soap fills his nostrils, and he can't help but breathe it in, letting it envelop him like a warm blanket.

"Alright, I'm done," you announce, your hands moving to massage his shoulders. "Feeling better, Leon?"

"Much better," he murmurs, his voice low and soft, his eyes still closed. "You're too good to me." He can't remember the last time someone has taken care of him like this, with such care and tenderness. It's a feeling that he's not used to, but one that he finds himself craving more of.

"Let's get you to bed, then."

He opens his eyes to find you standing beside the tub, a towel in hand. He stands up slowly, the water cascading off his body in rivulets, his skin flushed from the heat and the attention. As he steps out of the tub, you immediately wrap the towel around his hips, pulling him close to you. He's acutely aware of his nakedness, of the way his skin presses against the thin fabric of your nightgown, of the heat radiating between your bodies.

You move another towel in small circles across his arms, his shoulders, his chest, the fabric soft and absorbent as it soaks up the water from his skin. Droplets from his hair trail down his neck, and you follow them with the towel, pressing it against the back of his neck and gently patting it dry, your fingers soothing against the damp curls that cling to his skin. He can't help but shiver at your touch, his breath catching in his throat as you work your way down his body, your movements slow and deliberate, like you're savoring the moment as much as he is.

"Turn around for me," you instruct, and he complies, his skin tingling with anticipation as you start to dry his back, the towel gliding over his skin like a soft caress. You move the towel down, tracing the lines of his muscles and the curve of his spine, and his heart races as you reach his hips, the towel brushing against the edge of the one wrapped around his waist. He can feel your fingers slipping underneath the edge of the fabric. It's harmless on your part, but he's so sensitive to your every touch that he has to bite his lip to keep from groaning out loud.

And his erection had just gone down as well.

"All done," you say, your voice soft and a little breathless. He can feel the warmth of your body as you move around to his front, your eyes lingering on his chest for just a moment. "I didn't think to bring a bathrobe instead. It's a bit of a walk to the room, would you mind if I go and get it now?"

"It's fine," he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough. "I can handle a little cold."

It takes every ounce of willpower not to take advantage of the situation. Not because he doesn't want to — God knows he does — but because you deserve better than some desperate coupling in the bathhouse. It's going to be your first time with each other, and even though your body isn't technically new to him, he won't make it uncomfortable for you, not when you haven't actually been together. You should be somewhere familiar, comfortable, with sheets clean and soft enough to let you drift off afterward, wherever sleep may take you both. You've deserved better than what life has given you so far, so damn right he'll deliver on the bare minimum.

The night air is cool against his skin as you lead him from the bathroom. The corridors are quiet and shadowed, and there's something oddly intimate about walking naked through the sleeping castle with only you by his side. You don't speak, but he doesn't need words to know what you're thinking; your hand clasped tightly in his says more than anything else could.

It doesn't go according to his subconscious expectations, though, as he finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed and you between his legs, furiously drying his hair while he's trying to avoid getting hard. He has to say that the vigorous motion of your arms is helping his case.

He's not sure if he imagines it or if he actually hears the small, suppressed giggle.

"You look like a sheep," you say, and now he's certain the amusement in your tone isn't imagined. You reach down to press your lips to his temple, the sensation of the towel on his head halting abruptly, and he's left staring up at you as you straighten.

Before he can think better of it, his arms sneak around your waist and pull you closer until his head is resting against your stomach. You don't hesitate in wrapping your own arms around his bare shoulders in return, holding him close, and the two of you just breathe together for a moment.

"Thank you," Leon murmurs after a long pause, his voice muffled by the fabric of your nightgown. He's not sure what he's thanking you for exactly, but it's the only thing he can say. You've taken such good care of him tonight, made him feel loved and cared for in a way that he hasn't experienced, and he's not sure how to express that gratitude in words. But the way you hold him tight tells him that you understand.

He lifts his head to look at you, and he's struck by the beauty and affection in your gaze. It's the kind of love that he's dreamed of his entire life, the kind of love that fills his soul with light. And for the first time in his life, he realizes that he doesn't have to dream anymore. He can reach out and touch it, feel it, hold it in his hands.

You reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the feeling yanks him from the edge of sleep. "Do you want to sit in front of the fireplace?" you ask him. "Or would you rather just go straight to bed?"

"Stay," Leon says, his voice thick with emotion. He doesn't want this night to end, doesn't want to let you go just yet. He needs more of you, more of this warmth and love that you're offering him. One arm unhooks from around your waist and he trails a path down your forearm, his palm closing on the back of your arm as he turns his head around to rest his lips on the inside of your wrist. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks. "I want to stay here a little longer with you."

"Alright." You nod, and then your hand is trailing up his neck, your palm coming up to cup his cheek, fingers tracing the line of his cheekbone and then the edge of his ear. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and his throat works to suppress a shudder. He can feel your gaze on him like a brand. "Let me just... get this off of you."

You reach up and pull the towel from his head, tossing it onto the ground behind you, and your fingers comb through his damp hair. He's never realized how good it feels, how much he craves the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, the way you scratch your nails lightly against his skin, the way you tug on the strands to angle him how you want.

"Will you take me tonight?"

Your voice is low and husky, full of desire, and Leon can't help but let out a groan, his fingers digging into the fabric of your chemise, bunching it up as he tries to maintain control. His cock is fully erect again, straining against the towel still wrapped around his hips, and he's so turned on, so desperate for you that it takes all of his willpower not to push you onto the bed and take you right then and there.

"Are you sure? I know this is your first time, and we can wait, take things slow—"

"I want this." One knee goes on the side of his left thigh, making the mattress dip. And then the other, and then you're straddling him, hands cupping his face as you press your lips to his, the kiss slow and languid. Leon melts into your embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. The taste of a sweet treat is on your tongue, something fruity, perhaps a dessert wine, and he chases it, wanting more. "I love you, Leon," you whisper against his lips, and he can feel your breath fanning across his face. "I want you to make me yours."

Those words are like a key, unlocking something deep inside Leon.

"You love me?" he repeats, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye.

"Yes." You nod, your hands still cradling his face, your touch gentle and loving. You look at him like he's the center of your universe, your eyes shining with affection and desire, "Yes," you breathe out, your fingers trailing down his neck to rest on his chest, right where his heart is beating wildly beneath his ribcage. "How can I not?"

"God," Leon murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion, "I've dreamed of hearing you say that for so long, I—" His throat tightens, cutting off his words, and he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, and he can feel your pulse against his lips. He can't believe this is real, that he has you here in his arms, that you want him just as much as he wants you. He can feel your heartbeat, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth of your body seeping into his bones, and it's all so overwhelming that he can't hold back the emotions that flood him. "I love you too," he whispers, his voice breaking, and he presses a kiss to your collarbone, feeling your skin warm and soft against his lips. "I love you so much."

Your fingers are in his hair, tangling and pulling as he leaves a trail of kisses up the column of your neck. His teeth scrape against the sensitive skin behind your ear, and he feels you shudder in his arms, your breath quickening. "I can't believe you let me pull you down from Ethelion's arms," he says, his voice muffled as he sucks on the lobe, tongue dipping into the crevices, the heat between you making him dizzy. His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips, your waist, the dip of your spine. "No... I can't believe you willingly fell for me. That you're here. That you're mine."

"Always," you whisper, your nails scratching against his scalp, and Leon groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Your touch is electric, sending sparks of pleasure through his body, and he can't get enough of you, can't stop touching you, tasting you, feeling you pressed up against him. "I have always been yours."

You tilt your head, baring your neck, and Leon is powerless to resist. He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a mark, and you gasp, your body arching into his. "So beautiful," Leon says, his words coming out in a low growl, and he's almost embarrassed by how animalistic he sounds, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you're looking at him with so much desire, so much love. You're perfect like this, with your hair disheveled, your lips swollen from kissing, and your eyes glazed over with want.

"Then why do you keep me waiting, my lord husband?" you whisper, and Leon can't help but smile at the teasing tone in your voice, the way you're challenging him, daring him to take what he wants.

"Because I want to make this good for you," he murmurs, his hand slipping under the hem of your chemise, his fingers dancing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You shiver, and he can feel the muscles in your legs tensing as he gets closer and closer to your center, but he's in no rush, and he wants to make this last. "You need to be ready to take me."

"I am," you say with a breathy moan, and Leon can feel your wetness as his fingers glide against your entrance. He's been dreaming about this for weeks, fantasizing about what it would feel like to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him, and he's not going to rush things now. He wants to make sure you're as ready as you claim to be, wants to make this experience as pleasurable for you as possible.

He can't wipe the smile off of his face. "In spirit, maybe. But I need to open you up first. I don't want to hurt you."

He can see the uncertainty in your eyes, the way you bite your lower lip, and it's endearing, but also a little heartbreaking. You're so young, so inexperienced, and he wants to make sure that your first time is everything you deserve, that it's perfect in every way.

"Don't hold back," you whisper, and it's a plea, a request that makes his heart swell. You're saying that without even knowing what that truly entails, but he's not going to question it, not now when he has you in his arms, when you're so willing, so eager. "I want all of you, Leon. Please."

And who is he to deny you?

He stands, lifting you with him. The towel hanging on for its life around his hips drops to the floor, and he can feel your eyes on him, on the way his muscles flex and strain as he moves you to lay on your back in the center of the bed, the soft mattress cradling your body. He climbs onto the bed, kneeling between your spread legs, his cock jutting out from his hips, hard and heavy. Leon reaches down and takes hold of the hem of your chemise, lifting it slowly, his eyes devouring every inch of skin that's revealed to him, the way your stomach tenses as the air hits it, the way your chest heaves with each breath you take. He leaves it bunched right underneath your breasts and wraps his fingers around the waistband of your drawers, tugging them down, down, until you're completely bared before him.

"Look at you," Leon breathes, and there's wonder in his voice, reverence, as if you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he's trying to memorize every curve, every freckle, every inch of your skin. He runs his hands up your legs, parting them further, and you tremble. He's basking in the pride of your body responding to his touch like a flower opening to the sun.

“I want you to relax,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

His fingers trace a path from your ankle to your knee, the muscles in your thighs tensing, and his touch is feather-light as he reaches the apex between your legs, the place that's already wet and aching for him. He teases you, his thumb circling your clit, "I know how good this feels for you. But we need to get you used to being penetrated. I'm going to start with my fingers. Is that okay?"

"Yes," you gasp, and there's no hesitation, no doubt, just a desperate need for him.

"That's my girl," he murmurs, and his voice is thick with desire, with love, as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "So brave. So perfect. So beautiful."

His fingers slide between your folds, and he's slow, deliberate, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches your reaction, the way your mouth opens, the way your eyelids flutter shut, the way you shift around on the bed, your hips arching towards him, wanting more, always more. He pushes one finger inside of you and you sigh, your walls clenching around him, and he can't help but hiss in response, his own pleasure mounting, his cock throbbing as he imagines what it will feel like to sink inside you, to feel your heat, your slickness, your tightness.

He watches you closely, looking for any sign of discomfort as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you, the tight walls of your cunt gripping it like a vise. It's not long before he adds the second one, stretching you further, and he curls them both inside you and searches around.

"Fuck," Leon mutters under his breath as the tips of his fingers come into contact with a patch of slightly roughened skin and your body jerks like you've been struck by lightning, your hand shooting down to wrap around his wrist in an iron grip. "There," he says, and there's a smugness in his voice, a satisfaction, as if he's discovered a secret treasure that only he can access. "Found it." He rubs his fingers over that spot again, and you writhe beneath him, your grip on his wrist tightening even further.

"Leon," you whine, and there's a note of desperation in your voice, a need that makes him shudder. He leans down, pressing his lips against the side of your knee as he hooks it over his shoulder.

"I've got you," he murmurs against your skin, and there's a promise in those words, a vow that he intends to keep as he starts to fuck you with his fingers, slow and steady, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit, rubbing circles into it in time with the thrusts of his hand. Your grip on his wrist tightens even further, the bones grinding together in your grip, and it's only through sheer force of will that he manages to keep a slow pace. "Can you try to loosen your grip a bit, love? You have quite a vice grip there. You'll break my wrist if you're not careful." You whimper and ease the grip a bit. "There you go. Don't be afraid to feel it. Talk to me, let me know how this feels."

"It's..." You gasp, and your hips jerk up, trying to take him deeper, your walls clenching around his fingers as if you're afraid he'll take them away. "Not enough. More, Leon. Please." You're panting, your chest rising and falling, and he can hear the desperation in your voice, the way it cracks and wavers, and it only fuels his own desire, his own need to take you, to make you his, to make you come undone. "Up. Touch up."

"I need you to focus on the feeling inside," he instructs, and there's a hint of a command in his voice, a firmness that you're not used to from him, but it's not unkind, not harsh, just insistent. He knows you mean your clit, and eases off the pressure. "I don't want you to focus on the outside right now. Just on how this feels." His fingers crook and curl inside of you, and you whimper, your head falling back against the pillow, your eyes squeezing shut. "Can you do that?"

You nod, a shuddering sigh escaping your lips, and he can feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, gripping and releasing.

"I can't with this," you whine, and you sound wrecked and frustrated, your words almost slurring together. You release his hand to grab at the pillow behind you, your knuckles white as you grip the fabric. "It's not enough." Leon chuckles. He knew it would take some time to make you come like this, but that's half the fun. He wants to watch you struggle and squirm as he takes his time, opening you up for what's to come. He wants to savor every second of this, wants to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.

"I suppose I can indulge you, just a little," Leon murmurs and presses his thumb against your protruding clit. "I want you to tell me when you're about to come. Focus on what your cunt's doing." He's rewarded with another shudder and a broken whimper as he rubs slow circles over your clit, his fingers still thrusting inside you. "And remember to breathe. You need oxygen to come."

You do as he instructs, taking deep, shuddering breaths, and he can feel the way your body relaxes, the tension in your muscles easing as you let him guide you through the pleasure. Your hips begin to rock in time with the thrusts of his fingers, and he can see the way your toes are curling, your heels digging into the bed. You're close, he can feel it, the way your walls are fluttering, gripping him, trying to keep him inside.

"Leon," you moan, and your voice is so full of need that it sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin, making it throb. "It's... I'm going to... Please, don't stop."

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that's more teeth and tongue than finesse, his fingers never stopping, his thumb still rubbing mercilessly against your clit, "Let me see you fall apart."

As if on cue, you shatter beneath him, your back arching off the bed, your hips lifting up as you come, a guttural cry tearing from your throat, and he swallows it, his mouth still on yours, drinking in the sound of your pleasure. He keeps moving his fingers, drawing out your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until you're twitching and gasping, your body writhing beneath him.

"So beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, his voice ragged with his own desire.

He doesn't let you come down, doesn't let you catch your breath. Instead, he continues to work his fingers inside of you without touching your clit, taking that orgasm to associate it to what his fingers are doing. He wants you to come on his fingers, wants to teach your body to respond to his touch in this way, and he's not going to stop until you do.

"I can't," you gasp, your hand coming up to press against his chest, trying to push him away, to create some distance between your bodies, but he doesn't let you, doesn't relent, his fingers still working you open, stretching you wide. "Leon! Ah, it's too sensitive! Too much!"

"Shhh," Leon soothes, and there's a note of authority in his tone, a command that he doesn't realize slips through. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing over your lower lip, and your mouth parts, a soft moan escaping. "You can, and you will. I'm going to take care of you. I want to see you come apart on my fingers. Can you do that for me? Only from my fingers? Not from the outside?" He presses a kiss to your temple, and your breath stutters, your eyes squeezing shut. "I'll stop if you really can't handle it. I know it's a lot, but I promise, it'll feel so good if you let it."

"I don't know if I can," you whisper, and there's a note of fear in your voice, a hesitation that he understands. You've never done this before, never had someone touch you like this, never had someone take you to the edge and then hold you there, dangling over the precipice, and he's asking you to trust him, to let him take control, to let him guide you.

"You can, I'll get you there," he assures you, his voice soft and gentle, and his fingers never stop moving, never stop stroking, never stop stretching. "Listen, you hear that? How wet you are? That's your body's way of telling us you're ready for more. You're taking it so well. Just try to relax, and let me show you what your body's capable of."

A third finger teases at your entrance, and you whimper, your hips canting up to meet his touch, your body responding to him in a way that he knows is instinctual, primal. You're so wet that his fingers are practically dripping with your juices, the sound of your cunt squelching obscenely with each thrust, and it's music to his ears. "Gods," you gasp, your head falling back, your neck exposed, and he can't resist the temptation to lean down and nip at the sensitive skin there, to suck a mark that will bloom on your skin like a brand.

"It's just me in here with you," he murmurs against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, his words a whisper of reassurance and encouragement, and you shiver, your body trembling beneath him, as if you're trying to hold on to his words, to let them anchor you, ground you. He has to hold you down with his body weight to keep you from thrashing and bucking too much, the pressure on your clit gone and you can't grind up against him to get the relief you need. "Just us in here. No God. Just my fingers. Just focus on what my fingers are doing. Can you feel how wide they're stretching you?" He nips at your earlobe, and then soothes the sting with a swipe of his tongue.

"Oh, god..." you moan, your voice low and ragged, your hands fisting in the sheets beside you, your knuckles white as you cling to the fabric.

"No God," Leon repeats, and there's a dark satisfaction in his tone, a possessiveness that you can feel in every fiber of your being. "I'm not going to let you rely on Him. I'm the one who's going to take care of you from now on."

One kiss mark on the side of your neck turns into another, and another, and soon, he's sucking bruises into your skin, marking you as his, claiming you in a way that goes far beyond the physical. He wants to leave his mark on every inch of your skin, to erase every trace of Ethelion's influence, to make sure that you know that choosing Leon meant choosing to fall to his level, not the God who abandoned you. And when you're covered in his love bites, when you're writhing and gasping, your body shaking with need, he'll move on to the next patch of unblemished skin, and start all over again. Because for all the shame and guilt he felt for tainting you, he can't help but feel a dark thrill at the thought of corrupting you further, of showing you pleasures that you've never known before. Plucking an angel from Heaven and making them his. This is his worship. This is what he wanted to do all along.

"Leon!" You cry out his name like a prayer, and it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, the desperation and need in your voice like a siren song that he can't resist. There's hardly any resistance against his fingers, you're so soft inside, and you're so wet that his hand is drenched in your slick, his palm starting to rub against your clit, the heel of his hand putting just the right amount of pressure there to keep you teetering on the edge, but not enough to send you tumbling over. He wants to keep you here, in this place of pure sensation, where there is nothing but him and his touch, his love, his desire. "Oh, God... please, please... Please, no more, I can't do this, let me off, please, let me..."

"Beg for me more," Leon groans against your neck, and his voice is rough, his own need pressing insistently against the mattress, and he can feel the way his cock is throbbing, the way his balls are aching, and he can't ignore it anymore, can't resist the urge to take his own pleasure in hand, his hips grinding against the bed as he fucks himself against the mattress, head buried against your neck as he licks and bites his way up to your ear. "Tell me what you need."

"I can't," you sob, and the tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now, and he's mesmerized by them, by the way they shimmer in the candlelight, and he catches one on his tongue, the taste of your sorrow and desperation mingling with the salt of your sweat, and he wants to devour you, wants to swallow you whole. "Let me come, Leon, please, let me... I need it, I need you, I need you to make me yours, please, please..."

He kisses you, hard and deep, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim every inch of you, and you moan into the kiss, your hips bucking up against his hand, and he knows that you're so close, that you're right on the edge, and just in time, he takes all pressure away from your clit and focuses everything on your insides, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you're so wet, so tight, so perfect, and he can't get enough of you, can't get enough of the way you feel, the way you taste, the way you sound as you call out his name, for him to let you come, to give you what you need.

"I'm not going to let you come from the outside," he says, and he's panting too, his own desire clawing at him, the sheets below him damp with pre-come as he grinds his hips against them, his cock seeking relief, but he denies himself, because he wants this to last, wants to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied before he even thinks of his own release. "You need to come on my fingers, need to get your cunt to associate this with an orgasm. Come on, baby. Come for me. I know you can. You're doing so well, you're being so good, you need to breathe," he reminds you, and you do, your chest heaving as you gasp for air, your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin, and he welcomes the pain, revels in it, because it's a reminder that you're here, that you're his. "That's it. Just let go and let it happen. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you."

"I love you, I love you," you chant, like a litany, like a prayer, and it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, the words falling from your lips like a benediction, and he can't help but groan, his own need pushing him to the brink, his hips grinding harder. "Please, please, please—"

Your voice breaks off in a keening wail as your body goes rigid, your back arching off the bed, your head thrown back in ecstasy, your mouth open in a silent scream as you come, your cunt clenching around his fingers, your thighs shaking, your heels digging into the mattress as you ride out the waves of pleasure. And he can feel it, the way your walls flutter and pulse around his fingers, the way your body grips him, and he's so close, so close, so fucking close...

"That's my good girl," Leon grunts against your neck, his own breath coming in ragged gasps as he continues to thrust his fingers into you, prolonging your orgasm, drawing it out until you're limp and trembling beneath him. "That's it. Let go. Give in to it. Give me everything."

He milks you for every last bit of pleasure, and when you're finally spent, your body lax and boneless beneath his, he kisses you again, softer this time, his lips gentle against yours.

"You're so perfect," Leon whispers, and he means it, he means it with every fiber of his being, because you are, you're everything he's ever wanted, ever dreamed of, ever imagined. "I knew you could do it. I knew you were a good girl. You were so good for me, so perfect, and I'm so proud of you, so proud of you for letting go and trusting me. You did so well."

"Leon..." His name is a whisper on your lips, a plea, a prayer, and he cups your jaw, nestles your chin in the slope between his thumb and pointer, and pushes your head back to kiss you again, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim every inch of you. You're exhausted, spent, your body limp and heavy, but you still manage to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close, and he can feel the way your heart is still racing, your pulse fluttering like a captured bird. Your tongue can't quite reciprocate the movement of his, and he can taste the exhaustion, the way it's settled into your muscles, made them weak. "I love you," you breathe against his lips, and he's sure his heart is about to burst, it's so full of joy and adoration and love.

"I love you too," he murmurs, and he means it, he means it more than he's ever meant anything in his life. His hand is still between your legs, cupping your sex, his fingers still buried inside you, and he feels the reaction those words elicit, "Fuck, you want more, huh? Even though you're exhausted." You nod, expression woozy and slackened, and he smiles, his lips curving up against yours. "I can feel you clenching down on me, even though I'm barely moving my fingers. I wonder if we should see if you can have another one like this, on my cock this time. Do you think you can do it?" He pulls back, and you blink slowly, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure, lips swollen from his kisses. Your shoulders, neck and collarbones all littered with bruises and bite marks.

"Yes," you say without hesitation, without a single doubt, and it's a miracle that he can even think straight, that he can focus enough to move his hand, to slide his fingers out of you. Your slick clings to them, a thin string connecting you to him before he smears it all over his length, the slide of his palm against the shaft as he coats it making him groan and his hips stutter. "Please. Please, Leon, I need you inside me."

He's never heard anything so sweet, so perfect, and he's powerless to resist you, helpless in the face of your desire. "Anything you want," he murmurs, and he means it, he means it more than anything he's ever said before.

His hands have a faint tremble to them as he helps you out of your nightgown, baring the upper side of your body to him completely. The jarring difference between the marked skin from the clavicle up and the blank canvas of your chest makes his dick twitch in anticipation, and he licks his lips as he imagines how much further he can take things with you. You let out a soft sigh as his palms skim up your sides to cup your breasts, massaging them gently as his thumbs roll across your nipples. You arch your back, pressing your breasts into his palms, and Leon grins as he continues teasing your sensitive flesh.

"Always so responsive," he breathes, crawling up to nestle between your legs, his broad form draping over yours. His hands drop down to grip your waist, his fingers tightening slightly on your heated skin, and then he tugs you against him, rolling his hips forward, grinding his erection against your center, and the friction is delicious. "Do you like having my weight on top of you?"

"Mm-hmm," you nod, your breath coming in quick pants as he starts rocking his hips, sliding his length along your slit, coating it with your slick.

The feeling of his cock gliding against your folds is intoxicating, the sensation amplified by your previous orgasms. You squeeze your thighs around his hips, and he moans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he continues to move against you. His movements start to spasm when the tip of his dick catches on your entrance, and he sucks in a breath between clenched teeth, unable to help himself as he pushes forward slightly. You gasp at the pressure, and Leon pauses, knowing it must be overwhelming after he spent the better part of an hour working you open with his fingers. You'd be incredibly tight even if he was average sized — which he isn't—so the size difference has the potential to cause real problems for you both.

Your hips jerk forward, and Leon groans loudly as your body wraps tightly around the tip of his cock. A wave of intense pleasure courses through his veins, radiating out from his pelvis. It's almost enough to make him come right there and then, but he manages to regain some self-control, despite how badly his body yearns for release. But damn... it feels incredible, and he needs you, needs to feel that again.

For a while, he loses himself in the repetitive motion of popping the tip of his penis inside of you only to withdraw immediately afterward. Over and over, again and again, until you're sucking him in on your own. Each time, he struggles not to plunge himself fully within you. Every single ounce of restraint is focused on holding back, letting you adjust. By the time he's able to sink past halfway without making you squirm or whimper, you're coated in a layer of sweat. Your breath comes quickly as your fingers wrap around his forearms caging your head, clutching him, nails scraping red lines over his skin, like scratches from wild cats.

You tremble beneath him, gasping, biting your bottom lip to contain the sounds building in your throat. When the crown of his dick hits something solid inside of you, you shout his name.

"Leon, please! So big. Oh gods, oh gods. That can't—that shouldn't fit." The sudden shift into awareness worries him, breaking his concentration, and he nearly slips completely free of you. You're looking down between your joined bodies, and seeing yourself spread wide over his girth, pupils blown, sends you right back to delirium, arousal winning out over panic. "Why do I want it? I'm so full, Leon. I'm gonna explode."

"Not yet you aren't. Don't be tense, I’ve got you, everything’s okay. Relax."

But he needs you to let go for just a minute. A second. If he keeps trying now, he'll hurt you.

Breathe in. Breathe out. He waits, stroking your clit lightly, bringing you back to that blissful state of near-orgasm where all coherent thought ceases, as the passage softens. Finally, he hears it, the soft pop and subsequent sigh of relief. The muscles loosen around his cockhead as he slides further in. Only a little more now. Just enough to—there. Home base. Sheathed entirely within you.

His control frays dangerously close to snapping as he stares at your face, overcome by raw desire. Sweat runs down his spine, drops clinging to the strands of hair at his nape, threatening to fall into his eyes, but he doesn't dare blink lest he miss a single instant. He wants to remember every detail.

Your eyelids are half closed, dark lashes fanning flushed cheeks as your eyes roll back. Lips parted slightly, you pant softly, each breath a moan. "So full."

A thin film of moisture coats your brow, glossy trails winding down your temples to disappear in your hair. Chest rising steadily with each inhale. Hips undulating instinctively against his restraining palm. Inner walls squeezing and releasing sporadically like a massage. His own breathing speeds up and stutters. You feel amazing. Better than he ever imagined. More than anything his dreams could conjure, you are perfection, wrapped in silk and honey and lust.

He starts babbling. "You feel divine. Look at you taking me, being so good for me, relaxing, opening up for me. Gods above I love watching you let go," he groans huskily, leaning forward to nuzzle your jaw. Your soft skin pressed against his forehead, your fragrance filling his nose. The tip of his tongue darting out to lick along the seam of your lips before dipping in between them. Without pulling back from where he's sheathed, he starts slowly rolling his hips, careful not to thrust hard yet; just shallow rocking movements meant to get used to the stretch. Gradually easing both of your bodies into a rhythm. "I was so afraid to ruin you, break you, destroy everything you represent..." A harsh intake of air, followed by a low rumble as he pushes forward, drawing another moan from you, "And now you're here... giving yourself over to me like this..."

He traces the line of your throat with gentle kisses and nibbles. "Tell me how it feels. Is it painful? Am I hurting you at all?" Another tremor, another groan. Your fingers dig deeper into the muscle of his triceps. "If something becomes uncomfortable, tell me immediately. Okay?"

A stream of whimpers and garbled words drip from your lips as they descend lower to trace along your throat. One hand lifts up to twist through his long locks while the other seeks out the small of his back to pull him closer, urging him deeper. "Oh, f-fuck! Shit..."

His motions change from rolling strokes to short thrusts. The pace remains slow but steady. The angle forces the base of his erection to drag over your swollen clit with every inward slide. It stimulates that tiny bundle of nerves continuously. Your legs lock tighter around him. Feet pressing against his ass to lift you higher and push down at the same moment. Seeking more stimulation. Greedy for more sensation.

"It does hurt," you gasp as his lips latch onto a particularly sensitive area below the curve of your jaw, teeth grazing over delicate tendons before licking across to soothe away any soreness left behind. He hums low in his chest at the admission, and you add quickly, "But it's a good kind of pain, I don't know...! Ahhhhnnn—yes!" You lose track of your thoughts briefly when the head of his shaft bumps into some resistance deep inside you, causing an involuntary flinch and then a strangled keen.

"Oh yeah, right there? You like that?" Leon asks wickedly, repeating the action while reaching down with a hand to grab one leg above your knee and toss it over his shoulder. There's plenty of give to allow flexibility even with his broad frame crowding yours but with this new position his penetration increases dramatically. When his hips press flush against your pelvis, his whole length stuffed inside, his cock reaches even further than before and hits that exact spot dead center.

"Oh my gods--"

"No God," he snarls possessively, lowering his head next to your ear, "Just me. Can you feel how deeply you've let me in?" With purposeful intent he bucks sharply upwards, knocking a startled grunt out of you.

His mouth latches onto your neck again and sucks hard, pulling blood vessels to the surface and creating red blooms all along both sides of your windpipe. As his hips rock back and forth, their tempo picks up until you're practically bouncing from the force. "Who is filling you right now? Sinking into this tight little hole, fucking you into oblivion?" he growls savagely against your damp skin. In return, he earns more unintelligible cries mixed in with the occasional affirmation. The words "please" and "more" fall frequently off those lips. "Do you like it when I talk to you like this? Hm? It turns you on to hear filth instead of reverence, doesn't it? I know," he smirks before switching to something equally vulgar, "because you are dripping wet. Dripping... down... your thighs. Oh, Saintess. My filthy little saintess."

Leon rumbles deep within his chest when there's no answer forthcoming aside from pleasured whines and moans. In retaliation he nips roughly at your jugular, catching sensitive nerve endings between sharp teeth and threatening to break skin without actually biting down. His wide open hand finds your slick back and pulls you up a little to latch onto your chest, and rests the other forearm above your head to brace himself against.

Your chest is covered in a layer of perspiration that he laps away eagerly, swallowing gulps of water between every swipe with his tongue over stiff peaks. You writhe beneath him like an animal caught in its death throes. The movement only serves to intensify the friction between your bodies; both the external teasing of your clitoris rubbing against him and internal massage as his length scrapes against hot walls.

Everything smells like sex, like heat. Like two humans consumed by each other. Everything feels slippery wet, slippery soft. Every time either one of you moves the slightest bit there's a squishing noise emitting from somewhere beneath that makes your face twist and his manhood jump harder within its confines.

"So warm, so tight." Leon grunts harshly after diving down to bury his head between the valley of your breasts. "Can't hold back any longer..."

"Leon..!! Oooh gods...!" Your nails dig into his biceps, raking red streaks over smooth skin, sending goosebumps racing along every inch of exposed flesh.

When the initial shock wears off, he takes advantage of his current location and attaches his lips firmly onto one nipple while snaking a hand underneath your derriere and lifting slightly to tilt your pelvis upward so that with his next thrust there's a direct strike straight into your core, striking gold repeatedly.

Leon lifts himself back up, bracing against the bed for leverage, to hover over your limp body; chin resting atop his knuckles pressed deep into the mattress between your bent knees, staring intently at where your connection joins. Watching hungrily as he pistons into your soaked cunt with quick, shallow strokes meant for maximum friction. His balls swing forward in rhythmic thuds, slapping against the curve of your ass, coating themselves in sticky juices. "Keep looking," he commands gruffly. "Don't take your eyes away for a second. Want you watching stuff you full and mark what is mine."

Your breaths become more labored but your gaze remains fixed, focused solely on where they join together repeatedly. Your lower abdomen clenches tighter as he pounds into you, your head arching backward exposing delicate pale skin for him to continue littering love bites all over.

"Leon, I'm close, I'm close again please!" You cry out, chest rising rapidly off the ground, pushing against his mouth still ravishing one nipple between blunt teeth, swirling his tongue expertly over hardened nubs. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't ever stop I want more forever, please...!"

His movements are erratic, desperate. Frantic to reach his own climax. He hasn't had enough yet though, so he resists it stubbornly even as his vision threatens to blur around the edges due to sheer sensory overload from all angles.

"No." And abruptly he ceases thrusting entirely, simply leaving his dick sheathed inside your fluttering cavern, letting you feel how deeply he fills you. How closely he presses against places that have never been touched by anything other than a fingertip before tonight, if ever. The word itself wasn't spoken with hostility or anger but rather affectionate reprimand. "Tonight is about training. About making sure you learn this lesson properly. It won't do if we finish prematurely when there's still so much to learn and do first."

When your frustrated whines subside to mere frustrated whimpers, he begins again, slower now but with firm intention aimed directly toward prolonging the experience further, ensuring maximum pleasure and education. His head lowers once more into position directly beside your left ear, voice whispering huskily and intimate against your cheek. "My sweet saintess," he murmurs soothingly while rolling his hips slowly forward, eliciting several soft sighs and gasps from below. "Let go completely. Surrender yourself to me."

He slides out of you with agonizing care before helping you turn onto your stomach. Once finished positioning you just so, he straddles your calves in order to lay atop you. Your torso is completely flattened out onto the bed, pinned under his weight. He brings a hand behind himself and guides his engorged cock into your wetness once again; guiding, encouraging your thighs apart while simultaneously spreading those soft inner globes wide open until your entrance yields readily beneath his tip. Then slowly pushes home until bottoming out against your deepest barriers, whereupon he withdraws nearly completely again before repeating the cycle.

"I'm going to go weird," you warn feebly. Not exactly coherent speaking material given present circumstances but still understandable nevertheless. "I'm going to break, please, I'm sorry, I can't stop—" You sob as another wave of warmth crests, rolling down from somewhere deep within, drowning everything else in its wake, dragging under and tearing apart all preconceived notions of reality and time and place until only bliss remains, eternal and infinite.

Fuck, yes, he thinks, fighting not to come prematurely when your walls start rippling around him uncontrollably. It's him who did this to you. Who took apart your composure piece by piece until nothing remained but trembling limbs and whimpers escaping dry mouths, lips parched for air. His chest swells with pride at witnessing your body react viscerally to his touch. It's like staring Ethelion right in the eye while he fucks what is His, claiming ownership without reservation or remorse. No god will ever fill you more than Leon can—will always satisfy you beyond compare, leaving you a shattered wreck incapable of coherent thought besides Leon.

"Yeah?" he whispers hotly against your nape, pushing your hair to the side with his nose before nibbling gently on supple flesh beneath. He wraps himself around your back like a blanket, enfolding you completely within the cage formed by his arms, his hips slapping mercilessly into your asscheeks as he continues pummeling relentlessly onward, faster and harder and deeper than before, stretching you far beyond capacity yet somehow never enough. "Break, then. Go ahead and shatter for me. I'll catch you every single time, hold all the fragments together. Give yourself entirely until nothing matters anymore except how good you feel when I'm fucking you."

The sounds he lets out against your ear is embarrassing when your instantaneous orgasm squeezes violently down around him, milking him furiously even though he hadn't been expecting it.

"Fuck! No, wait, waitwait—don't do that, I'll—" His cock twitches painfully within your spasming walls as they begin contracting uncontrollably again despite his orders otherwise; not stopping nor slowing for a second, forcing the rest of his sentence to trail off into a broken groan. He's fucking coming. Already.

Against his best efforts, a guttural whine tears loose from deep within his lungs, echoing throughout the room as he pumps out rope after thick rope into your welcoming womb, coating every possible surface until saturation point has already surpassed capacity and excess seed oozes out copiously around his shaft as evidence of his release. He keeps pumping, desperately seeking extra traction whenever possible but soon running out of reserves to keep up pace. After a few final shuddering thrusts that border on overstimulation, he sinks further into you one last time before allowing himself to collapse and spoons you securely from behind with both arms cradling tightly around your front like a protective shield, breathing heavily.

"You almost sucked the life outta me." Leon mumbles into the nape of your neck, panting hard against soft skin, still half-hard and buried inside of you. "Wasn't supposed to happen like that. Had plans. Wanted to make this perfect for you, wanted you to remember this night forever."

"Are you kidding me?" you slur, sounding delirious. Your head lolls sideways against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering weakly. "That was incredible."

"Really? I didn't hurt you?"

"I mean... I definitely think I would have died if we kept going according to your plans. But honestly? I think that's a small price to pay considering what happened instead."

He chuckles lightly at that, relieved and delighted by your positive response, before turning your chin towards him and pressing his mouth to yours, kissing deeply and tenderly. He tastes the saltiness from sweat and tears on his tongue and smiles inwardly knowing that he was the one who made you cry. That you willingly let him have this, give him everything without question or doubt. That's the real victory here, isn't it?

As you relax further, relaxing into the mattress, your breathing evens out, becoming slower, calmer. He watches intently, fascinated by how peaceful you look lying next to him. His cock twitches inside of you once more, reminding him that he is still hard. Still wants more.

"We can still keep going," he offers quietly, reaching between your legs, fingers trailing lightly along the outer edges of your labia, stroking softly, coaxing them to part further. His thumb brushes gently across your clit and draws out a hiss from you, and a delicious roll of your hips that forces him deeper inside of you.

"You're going to kill me," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss, and he complies readily, capturing your lips with his own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press yourself against his chest, sighing contentedly as his fingers begin working their magic.

"If you die, it'll be because I loved you too well. Which would be an acceptable way to go."

The golden hour of late afternoon casts long shadows over the estate, the air warm and filled with the gentle hum of life—buzzing bees, chirping birds, and the occasional rustle of leaves as a breeze passes through. Everything feels tranquil, as if the estate itself has finally come to rest after the flurry of its construction. Leon basks in the glow of success, having achieved something worthwhile here with his own two hands—or at least supervising its creation. It's comforting to feel like a person instead of a weapon, especially when such simple pleasures bring so much joy.

And there you are, kneeling amid the lilies you’ve finally managed to grow. They sprout from pots scattered throughout the greenhouse, adding bright pops of white to the green of the plants already thriving. You hum happily while tending to your collection; you've taken great care to tend the soil carefully, pruning away any brown or yellow leaves, keeping them watered regularly, and providing proper sunlight each day. And they've paid dividends, resulting in a stunning display. Each pot contains a variety of different types, ranging from delicate trumpet flowers to majestic magnolias.

Leon watches fondly from the doorway as you work diligently, using the watering can to dampen the rich black earth before tucking a fresh bloom into place amidst the greenery. He'd bought the seeds specifically with you in mind when he heard of their beauty, hoping to surprise you upon delivery—but was disappointed when it took longer than expected. Now here they stand, proud and vibrant, blossoming fully in preparation for spring, brought into existence by your tender loving care.

Much like him.

Leon isn’t sure if you realize how much those flowers represent more than just your determination to build this garden. He does hope that perhaps you recognize a hidden truth embedded within these stems and petals; that as long as someone believes enough to nurture growth, nothing will ever truly perish—especially not love.

He takes a step forward, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path. You don’t turn, too engrossed in your work, your fingers gently brushing over the petals of a nearby flower. He watches the way your hands move with such care, such tenderness. It’s a far cry from the woman he first met—so unsure of herself, so afraid of what the world might think. Now, you are here, fully in your element, having created something beautiful from nothing. And he cannot help but admire how far you've come, how brave you are, how determined to make a new life for yourself.

"They've grown well," Leon says, coming up beside you, taking care not to disturb your concentration. His eyes follow your motions, noticing the way the sunbeams bounce off your cheeks, highlighting the curves and lines of your face as you smile proudly.

"Look, my pretties. He's praising you," you say fondly, caressing another blossom with the back of your finger. "Go ahead, praise them more."

He laughs softly. "Alright, then. Um, very nice job, lilies..." Leon trails off awkwardly, unable to shake the feeling of foolishness that comes with complimenting plants like they understand human speech. "Good work on the pollination?"

You burst into giggles as soon as his words leave his mouth and he smiles sheepishly, trying his hardest not to blush. Maybe this kind of thing doesn't suit him, but he wants you to know how happy it makes him seeing your efforts come to fruition. All of this—the flowers, the greenhouse itself, even your little house down by the lake—were ideas that came straight out of your brain and were built here by your hands. And damn it, he wishes there was a manual for what to say to express just how amazingly impressive that is!

But when you glance back at him with shining eyes full of excitement, Leon realizes that maybe he doesn't need fancy vocabulary after all.

"And great job growing garden, my lady." He grins broadly, patting the top of your head fondly. "I knew you would do it if you believed enough."

Suddenly you turn to him fully and throw your arms around him tightly in an excited hug. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Nah, this was all you."

"Okay fine, yeah it was pretty much just me... But seriously!" You insist, looking up at him with serious eyes that glitter like gemstones. "Thank you."

"What is this, 'thank you'? You should be saying 'I did a good job!' Come on, say it."

A smirk curls at the edge of your lip before morphing into an expression so warm, Leon feels it spread deep within his chest like sunshine melting snowfall. "We did a good job. Thank you for believing in me enough to see it through. For sticking by me during tough times, cheering me on no matter how discouraged I got. This is our home now."

A soft sigh escapes his throat involuntarily and he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist loosely while resting his chin atop your hair. "Mmhm... That sounds much better."

Hearing those words, hearing you accept this space as theirs, makes him incredibly happy. Part of him wonders if you truly comprehend just how significant this moment actually is—that neither of you have belonged anywhere since childhood; tossed aside or forgotten, ignored or scorned, pushed around by others' expectations—yet here stands a place where everyone knows exactly who they are meant to belong with and where they belong. A sanctuary of peace built around love alone.

After all those years trapped in that crumbling temple and their orders, forced to endure pain and suffering under constant scrutiny from those seeking power through control, Leon never could imagine things turning out so perfectly for himself. Not when he lost faith so long ago, surrendering himself entirely to Ethelion's command in hopes he might someday find salvation elsewhere; yet ultimately falling short of such aspirations time after time. Yet somehow now, even despite everything—despite being branded a traitor, exiled, stripped away of everything including his name—he is grateful, contentment flooding through his system, settling comfortably within his bones.

In your arms, there is freedom. In your heart beats a home.

[mangostarjam]

declarations — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x reader, use of foods as nicknames, childhood best friends dynamic, reader wears a dress and heels, 2.6k words

here's part one and part two though this piece was inspired by this

"Why do I need to wear a dress?"

Hoshina Soshiro glances up from where he's lounging on your bed. You've already pulled on the dress, of course, and he watches with probably way too much interest as you tug and adjust the way it drapes along your body. It's pretty. It fits perfectly, though you have no idea when Soshiro learned your measurements enough to show up at your door with such a gorgeous dress hanging from his fingers. Maybe he got them from Okonogi-chan?

"You'll be walking 'round with me and the Captain, egg tart, so you've gotta look the part," he says idly, though you can feel the burn of his stare along the newly exposed skin of your back. "And don't forget the heels!"

You glance at the cute, strappy heels he left by your mirror and frown. "If I wear those, I'll be taller than you, Soshiro-kun."

"Aw, that doesn't matter," Soshiro says. He sits up and you look away from the flex of his incredibly defined abdominal muscles beneath his compression shirt, which he apparently wears all the time, even under his formal dress uniform with all its tassels and buttons.

God. Embarrassing. You really need to get your staring issue under control.

"I can fight whoever looks at ya."

"Wha— ?" Heat sears across your face as you splutter and spin around to face him. The skirt of your dress twirls with the movement and you catch his gaze snapping down to your thighs. "Why would you need to fight anyone?"

"Hm?" You take a step back as he gets up and stalks over to you, holding your breath subconsciously as he kneels at your feet and takes one of the heels in hand. Your room suddenly feels warmer, the air hushed, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in the entire universe. Soshiro chuckles quietly and shoots you a grin that makes your knees feel wobbly.

"Soshiro-kun?"

"Well, 'course I'm gonna fight for ya, apricot," Soshiro says. You flinch as he reaches out to grip your calf, the rough callouses on his fingers scraping lightly as he lifts your leg and slides your foot into the shoe. "You're my best friend, yeah?"

And I'm just a simple man in love goes unspoken as he carefully ties the silk around your ankle to keep the shoe in place. You wobble a bit at the balance and he glances up from beneath his violet bangs. "Hold onto my shoulders," he says quietly, reaching for your other leg. "Don't worry, I've got you."

"S-Soshiro-kun, I can put these on myself," you mumble, heat flaring up your spine at the careful pressure of his fingers on your ankle. He lifts your leg and you grab abruptly at his shoulders, fingers digging into the thick muscle there as you regain your footing with his support.

Soshiro lets out a breath. "I know," he says simply. "But I wanna do it."

Is this what men do when they're in love? You wouldn't know — the only man in your life you've ever cared about is right in front of you, and he's refused to elaborate on his strange statement no matter how many times you've asked. You have a feeling he means it, though.

Like, really means it. You love Soshiro — of course you do. You've always loved him. But lately it's felt… different.

Still comfortable. He's still your biggest supporter and vice versa, and he still knows exactly how to cheer you up and make you laugh. You know all his ticks and tells, and you take great pride in taking care of him while he's looking out for everyone else.

But at the same time… it's uncomfortable.

These little touches — they're new. The way his gaze lingers on your body is also new. Or… maybe you've just never noticed before. It's not a bad thing. But it makes you feel strange and fluttery inside and you catch yourself daydreaming about what it'd be like to actually get a hickey from Soshiro. Your best friend.

You stare down at the top of his head and try to repress a shiver as he skims up your legs to where your skirt rests against your thighs. His touch leaves behind a trail of warmth that burrows deep. "Um— ?"

"Ya look real pretty like this," he says. You're still holding onto his shoulders as he rises from his crouch, your entire body hot and hyperaware of how close he's standing once he straightens. "I could really just eat ya up." The smirk on his face makes your heart thump painfully in your chest, but he doesn't give you a chance to question it before he's grabbing your hands and spinning you around in a little twirl.

"S-Soshiro!"

Your best friend laughs as you wobble precariously before regaining your balance, your hands gripping his in a vice as you stumble to a stop. The familiar sound makes everything feel lighter, the heat simmering into something loose and… painful. Your chest aches. "Whoa, lollipop, watch your step!"

"You did that on purpose," you accuse, but you giggle anyway at his lopsided grin. It's bright and undeniably fond, a smile that features in all of your memories together. "You still haven't explained why you'd need to fight people, y'know."

"Let's just say I've got my work cut out for me with such a gorgeous partner," Soshiro says, looping your arm through his and angling for the door. Is he… trying to sweet talk you? Does he think that'll make you forget about his intention to brawl during the meal? "Ya ready for dinner, beansprout?"

"Hold on, don't forget your jacket," you say. He lets you step away to snatch up his formal dress jacket, though his hand hovers, stretching out towards you as you turn back to help him into it. You slip his buttons into place carefully, smoothing out the dense fabric and ignoring your warm face as he rests his hands on your hips to keep you steady. "There! Now we can go to dinner, Vice Captain, sir."

Soshiro's hands tighten at your waist. "Whoa, peanut, we ain't in public, yet."

You roll your eyes. He's been oddly insistent lately about when you use his rightful title. "C'mon, Soshiro-kun, before they start and we miss all the food!"

Your best friend loops your arm through his again and leads you out into the hallway, laughing when you try to pull your arm free only to fail as he tugs you more securely towards him. "Hey now, sugar cube, no runnin' away. We've gotta show up together or else people'll think they've got a chance."

You wrinkle your nose. "A chance at what?"

"They're already lucky bein' able to see you all dressed up," Soshiro continues as if he didn't hear you. "Maybe we should ditch the party."

"You're literally the Vice Captain of this base," you point out. "I think your absence would be noticed."

"What if we sneak out after dessert?"

"Why would we sneak out?"

Soshiro glances at you and pauses in front of the door leading into the ballroom. "Just 'cause I'm Vice Captain doesn't mean I'll forget to rescue you from all the socializin'."

"My hero," you joke, but several hours later finds you scanning the crowd uneasily for a head of violet hair.

The party is full of officers (easily distinguishable in their dress uniforms) and esteemed guests from various kaiju tech companies eager to promote their new products. You stuck to Soshiro's side for the most part, his hand firm and bracing at your lower back, but duty called and you ended up in a conversation with a tech mogul's son while Soshiro attended to his captain.

"Sorry, I know I'm not as good looking as the Vice Captain, but am I really boring you that badly?" the tech mogul — Takashi? Tadashi? — asks. You blink in surprise and return your attention to him, shifting on your heels.

"I apologize," you say, "it's just been a while…"

"It's been ten minutes," Takashi/Tadashi snorts. "If you don't mind me asking, how long have the two of you been together?"

Again? Why does everyone ask that? "We've known each other since childhood," you say. The man raises an eyebrow.

"Are you not… together, then?"

Something about his tone makes you bristle. "We've always been together," you say. You feel Soshiro before you see him, his hand resting warm on your lower back, just at the dip of your spine where it curves at your butt. This is a new spot for him to touch, a little lower than usual, but you lean into him anyway, seeking the comfort of your best friend. "Right, Vice Captain?"

"Who's askin'?" You startle a little at the subtle chill in his tone. Soshiro tucks you against his side with a hum as Tadashi introduces himself. "Nice to meet you, too," Soshiro grins. "Thanks for keepin' my cinnamon roll company."

Maybe it's your imagination, but did you hear a slight emphasis on "my"? And what's with dropping a nickname in public? Usually he's careful about referring to you by your surname when around strangers. The Third Division knows the two of you are close, but the ballroom is packed with people who have no idea about your relationship with the Vice Captain.

Tadashi doesn't seem concerned, but he does take a small step back. "Why of course, Vice Captain Hoshina," he says, "It was my privilege to be in the presence of such beauty."

You can feel Soshiro's arm tense as he slides it around your waist, but his tone is light. "Whoops, sorry, Takashi-san, duty calls. We'll be taking our leave now."

The crowd of pleasantly chattering officers and bigwigs parts easily as Soshiro guides you through towards the large banquet table full of small bites and snacks. You raise an eyebrow. "Wasn't his name Tadashi?"

"My bad," Soshiro says. You narrow your eyes at him and he laughs. "It's fine, my lil' blueberry. His father's the one in charge of their company and Captain Ashiro already made a good impression on him."

It doesn't surprise you that he already knows all of this — for all his joking, Soshiro's always been good at his job. What is surprising is that he was a little mean to the guy for no reason.

"Well, thanks for rescuing me," you say. "I was trying really hard not to yawn in his face."

Soshiro laughs and flicks your forehead fondly. "You ready to sneak outta this party, cupcake?"

"You won't get in trouble?" you ask, looking around doubtfully at the crowd. A few officers meet your eye and turn away quickly, which is weird. You reach up to rub at your forehead. "What about Captain Ashiro?"

"If we stay any longer, I'm gonna end up fightin' those guys from the Second Division," Soshiro says lightly, tilting his head towards the officers who just turned away from you. "They've been starin' at ya all night."

"No fighting," you say immediately. Soshiro snorts and crosses his arms over his chest. Your eyes skip over the way his shoulders bunch at the movement and you meet the eye of a female officer standing at the other end of the banquet table. Her face lights up and she moves towards the two of you, snagging two flutes of champagne along the way.

"Vice Captain Hoshina!" she says brightly, offering him the delicate glass. "I've been looking for you all night! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You shift away, feeling suddenly like you're intruding on something private. Thankfully, the banquet table is a good distraction, and you move closer to it, wondering if you can find the dessert section while Soshiro catches up with this lady who's apparently an old friend. She must be from the Second Division. Maybe Soshiro met her when he visited their base to demonstrate and instruct on sword techniques?

You glance at her again. She's pretty, wearing the formal dress uniform of a female officer, though it looks like her long stockings aren't quite long enough, because the visible skin between her stockings and the bottom of her skirt is definitely against uniform regulations. She looks comfortable standing next to Soshiro, though, and the sight makes your insides twist strangely.

He's never mentioned her to you before. You remember greeting him after his visit to their base, accepting the snacks he brought back and tossing him your finished book filled with scribbled notes so he could take his turn reading it. Is he close with her? He must be, for her to look for him all night… right? It's not like you expect to know everything about Soshiro — of course he has his secrets and his own life.

And what if… what if he… and she… what if they were… together? You've never broached the topic of your love lives with each other, though it's never seemed to matter. You had your fair share of meaningless crushes during your time as an officer, but it was hard to care about pursuing anything romantic when you always had Soshiro.

Oh. Oh.

You are… an idiot. You feel so, so stupid. But Soshiro said he's a simple man in love — with you.

You're staring blindly at a platter of tiny cheesecakes when you feel someone approach, interrupting your train of thought. You glance up with a polite smile as one of the officers from the Second Division steps closer. "Those look delicious, don't they?"

"They do," you say. The officer looks nice enough — boyishly charming, in a way — but you find yourself glancing past him to scan the crowd for a head of violet hair.

Are you in love with Soshiro? Yes — of course you are — and maybe the semantics and nitty gritty details don't actually matter when you just feel right with him.

"Heya, pudding cup." Soshiro's touch burns along your lower back. "Time to head out?"

You twist towards him with a smile that makes his eyes widen. "I missed you."

Pink creeps up his neck as he grins back at you. "Yeah? Excuse me, officer, but I'll be takin' it from here."

The Second Division officer nods and mumbles some formalities as you leave with Soshiro, who doesn't take his hand off your back. The steady pressure of his fingers makes something curl in your gut. "What about the other Second Division officer? The one who brought you champagne?"

"Hm? Who?"

"Soshiro-kun…"

"She's just a friend," Soshiro says, snickering when you scrunch your nose at him. "Don't worry, bonbon, I've only got eyes for you."

The chatter and shuffling of the crowd fades as the two of you exit the ballroom and slip down a side hallway in the direction of your rooms. Soshiro drops his hand from your back, but you grab it before he can get too far, lacing your fingers together and peeking at the redness of his ears with a small smile. You turn together down another hallway, this one illuminated by squares of moonlight that do nothing to hide the clench of his jaw as he glances at you and squeezes your hand.

"Aren'tcha proud of me? No fighting."

You snort. "Thanks for not starting a brawl during a Defense Force party," you tease. "You're the best Vice Captain we could ever ask for."

"I'm not messin' around," he says. "I can't help it if I just wanna keep ya to myself."

"You don't have to worry about that," you say. You wonder if he can feel your pulse pounding in your wrist. "I'm all yours."

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Men Headcannons:

~Yanderes after they've captured you~

(Includes: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Wanderer, Xiao, Kazuha, Heizou, Venti, Cyno, Scaramouche, Childe, Albedo, and Zhongli!)

Honestly might make this a series...so Part 1??

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Kaveh:

Kaveh kneeled down infront of you, his fingers gently lifting up your chin as your eyes slowly fluttered open. The room was bright, burning your retinas as you tried to grasp where exactly you were. "Sorry my methods of bringing you here were so...cruel. I truthfully racked my brain for other solutions but I was getting impatient." His voice seemed silky sweet like always, but something was still...amiss.

You tried to speak, ask what was going on but your mouth was dry and your words only got caught up in your throat making you cough. As you became more aware...the tight robes binding your hands behind your back made themselves known...you were trapped, tied down. Panick started to build, your eyes filled with worry and your heart rate picking up.

He noticed this a small smile forming as he leaned forward placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, "Don't worry darling, I only plan to love you with all I can, no harm will be done to you. I only did this because...I wanted to make sure no one else could have you...that we could be...alone~"

Alhaitham:

Your head felt heavy, the room almost spinning as you attempted to look up at the person leaning against the wall in front of you. Your eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting of the room, just barely visible in the shadows was... Alhaitham? "W-what.." Your voice sounded hoarse and it hurt to speak like someone had poured acid down your throat.

His movements were slow, like a predator stalking his prey...as he pushed himself away from the wall, walking towards you, a evil glint in his teal green eyes. "You're awake...good. I was starting to worry I had given you to much of the sedative..." His hand went up and for a second you thought he was going to hit you, making you flinch.

However he simply touched your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb, it stung slightly and your realized you must have some type of scratch in that exact spot. He tilted his head as if examining you before quietly speaking his thoughts, "Not even a blemish on your skin could take away from your beauty...I've clearly made the right choice in...taking you."

Wanderer:

Your body felt tired, sore like you had run a marathon and although you seemed to be on a comfy bed...you couldn't move. Your eyes slowly adjusting to the ceiling, the only thing you could currently see. You shifted, attempting to free yourself from whatever was keeping you down but had no luck.

From somewhere in the room you heard a door open, and before you could speak someone was leaning over you, his face mere inches from yours. Now you could see who your captor was..."W-wanderer? What...where...W-why?" You stuttered, your heart filled dread as the situation became clear to you.

He leaned in closer his lips touching yours in a soft kiss, his forehead against yours as he spoke, "I couldn't...I couldn't stop thinking about you, every day...every second...you...plague my thoughts and then one day...I see you chatting. Smiling at someone else...and I snap. I want to be the only one to cause that perfect smile. So I brought you here...to a safe place~"

Xiao:

Your heart was racing, Xiaos spear was against your throat and his face though covered with a mask was so close to your own. You were scared, never had he cornered you like this and for the life of you, you couldn't understand why he would. "X-xiao? What's going on?? W-what did I do?!"

His spear turned slightly, the edge of it sharp enough to slice your neck open, his hand holding your shirt tightly so you couldn't run as his mask fades away revealing his face, his piercing yellow eyes staring into yours with a crazy look you'd never seen before. His voice deeper than normal and his face slightly pink, "In all my years of living...I've never felt this way about someone. You're...you're the love of my life...please...I'll do anything for you..."

Kazuha:

The wind blew softly making you shiver from the cold, the trees around you shaking softly as their leaves fell all around you. The scenery would have been beautiful on any other occasion, but with your arms tied uncomfortably around a tree, your face pressed against the bark, you couldn't take pleasure in your surroundings.

Suddenly you felt a weight press against your back, hot breath on your neck as a familiar voice whispered in your ear, "It's a beautiful place isn't it? I thought you'd enjoy it. The breeze has always whispered of you...and I finally decided to listen. I'm so lucky...to finally have you...can I keep you...forever~"

Heizou:

You shivered, the room felt so cold...dark and lonely, you couldn't see anything...the only thing sticking out to you was a subtle scent of sakuras. You moved your hands hearing the rattle of the handcuffs that kept you in place...how long had you been here...you weren't sure...you weren't even sure where here was.

Lights flicked on, making you jump, your eyes seemingly burning at the sudden brightness, "Good morning my love. Don't worry... you're not being investigated for a crime...I just wanted somewhere more private for us. A place I could share my true feelings for you. This investigation room just happened to be the only place I could find on such short notice." A voice spoke, you knew it well and you could barely believe what he was saying.

"Heizou..." Your voice sounded weak, and you silently cursed yourself for the desperation in your words. He didn't answer instead he sat down across from you, his lust filled eyes trained on you. He rested his head in one of his hands, almost like he was daydreaming as he looked at you.

You both sat in silence for a moment till he eventually spoke again, "Sorry sorry. I got caught up in my thoughts. I've been doing that so often...getting lost in thoughts of you...your sweet smile, your cute laugh...the way you get nervous in large crowds...I notice it all. I can't help it...I tried so hard to hide these feeling away...but I love you and there's no denying it. Now with you here...you will always be mine. No one. Can have you."

Venti:

The anemo archons eyes were on you, his smile bright and happy as he softly hummed. You couldn't move...it was like you were under some type of trance that made your body no longer under your control...every muscle not responding as you attempted to run...to get away.

He paused, gently placing a cecilia behind your ear, "I know...it's probably uncomfortable not being able to move...but I didn't want to take the chance of you running away. It's not permanent and I hope...that I won't have to use it again. I promise...I don't want to hurt you...I just don't want anyone else around you...I want to sing and dance...to love you."

Cyno:

You frantically looked around the room, your eyes darting to every possible light source before finally landing on a pair of glowing red eyes. You froze, sheer terror filling your being as you stared at them...unable to look away in case they might come closer. Your body was shaking, you'd never been so afraid in your entire life and for a second you wondered if this would be your end.

The ruby eyes disappeared into the shadows and you broke from your trance, sprinting in the direction your legs decided to take you. You could barely see and your heart was racing as you tried to runaway from whatever had put you there. Suddenly you heard the pitter patter of someone chasing behind you, making you speed up, but it didn't matter as the person behind you lunged forward taking you down.

You hit the ground harshly wanting to scream but getting cut off in surprise when the person who gave chase pulled you into a tight embrace...almost lovingly? Their arms wrapped around you tightly...but not to the point it hurt...who was this? "Who...are you...?"

"...your protector."

Scaramouche:

"How...how did I fall for a filthy worm like you...I can't believe I've succumbed to such human emotions as love!" Scaramouche shouted, pulling you out of your dazed state and back into reality. You didn't actually have the chance to respond as you were harshly pulled against him his face centimeters from yours. He looked angry, his eyes full of hatred...and yet deep in them there was also love...was this...a nightmare?

"You can't...you can't ever leave me. I won't let you. I won't let anyone take you..." He's cheeks were red...wether it was because he was flustered or angry you couldn't tell...all you knew was his words...he meant them. You'd never be able to get away...

Childe:

You looked at the person on top of you...your hands pinned above your head and your back flush against the floor. Usually Childe would have let you up by now, complimenting your form and then continuing to spar till you eventually gave up, wanting food. What was he doing? "Childe? You win...I've been tackled for 10 seconds...how about we get something to eat? I'll pay since you had more downs this time?"

He didn't answer...he seemed out of it, before you could ask what was up his eyes refocused themselves on you...flicking down to your lips for a split second. He leaned down studying your expression as it changed to one of panick, he spoke quietly, his voice sounding menacing, "I've won...but I think I want my prize to be something other than food. I think...I want you as my prize... comrade."

Albedo:

Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn't help but quietly gasp. The room you were in...it was goregous...right out of a picture, the walls were white with paintings of different places in Teyvat and small windows with white curtains that flowed softly in the gentle breeze. The furniture seemed expensive and yet still comfy...it even smelled nice.

You sat up from the couch you had been laying on, realising you had no idea where you were...how did you get here last you remembered you were chatting with the head of alchemy..., "Oh you're awake, apologies I was getting another canvas."

Your eyes shot up landing on Albedo who was a few feet away from you, standing in the archway you hadn't noticed before. You could now clearly see the easel set up there...where he had been...painting you? "Albedo...what...what is going on? Where am I?"

He set the white canvas down, walking towards you and kneeling in front of you. "You're in my home...honestly I've been wanting to bring you here for...some time. As for what's going on.." He didn't finish his sentence, his hand gently grabbing yours and intertwining your fingers with his own. "I simply want you...with me.."

Zhongli:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The geo archon stared at you, his eyes never leaving yours as he swirled his tea with one hand. "You do have a unmatched beauty...one even the night sky would be envious of. Truthfully I normally wouldn't get involved in relationships...I wouldn't entrap someone for personal gain...but I felt I had no other choice. The envy I felt as I watched you interact with nothing but mere humans...had become to much for even me to handle. So I brought you here...to my own personal abode..."

You struggled to think of what to respond...but in the presence of a god...would anything you could have said actually have made a difference...

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