#NOW I have to make the red lining around the opening look like it's coming from a sane angle and so far every attempt looks like ass

[natalievoncatte]

Lena crouched down and carefully undid the buckle, pulling the watch from Lex’s limp wrist. His cold hand fell to the floor with a soft flopping sound and his eyes stared at nothing, unfocused and dull. Lena had once read that a dead man stared as if trying to solve a complex problem, but Lena did not see metaphor in her dead brother’s eyes. She saw only an absence that was a presence, a nothing that was somehow something.

Lex finally had his father’s eyes.

The gun was still heavy in her hand, her palm and wrist tingling from the force of recoil, ears still ringing from the blast. A single hole marked the center of her brother’s forehead; the meat of his genius was splattered across a bank of screens all playing surveillance footage of Kara performing inhuman feats.

(Two to the chest, one to the head, he had taught her, teaching her to repeat the mantra as he held her wrist to guide her aim as she took her very first shot)

The world was starting to come back, sweeping in. She couldn’t be here. She’d have to figure out what to do with the body and the evidence. She had to get out.

The interface on the watch was simple enough. The portal flashed open and she stepped through into her apartment. That could be convenient.

The watch crystal was dotted with her brother’s blood. She threw it and it skidded across the kitchen counter and it fell on the floor. She looked at the weapon in her hand. She would have powder burns.

Looking up, she spotted her reflection in the stainless steel of her fridge, blurred but real. There was red on her.

Lena never wore red.

There was more than she thought. She was covered in blood. In a panic, she ran for her bedroom and began shedding clothes on the tile floor of her bathrooms, wrapping the gun in a towel before throwing it on the bed. Stupid, stupid. That revolver was registered to her in Metropolis, and like all guns sold in-state, the police had a spent shell casing from it, fired and then stored for police records before it was sold.

Fuck.

Hot water blasted her skin. She let her hair fall down around her shoulders in wet locks like streaks of ink smeared across her pale skin.

(Why must you be so pale? You look like a dead fish.)

(That’s enough, mother. Leave Lena alone.)

She wasn’t sure when the tears started, or when she began to sob. She scrubbed at herself with a wash cloth and soap until her skin was raw and beet red. She was still sobbing when she stumbled out of the shower and threw on a robe, choking back tears as she sat on the edge of the bed.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand, but who to call?

Not long ago she’d have called Kara, or perhaps her sister. She could have called Nia or Brainy but they had all fucking lied to her. Even James. James knew while he was… while they…

It was Kara. Kara has asked her boyfriend to spy on her, questioned her motives.

Kara… Kara had lied most of all.

She stared at the phone. There was Sam, but Sam was away from all this madness, busy with her work and her daughter. Lena would just be a burden to her.

She stared at her list of contacts- the only people she knew outside of her employees and associates were in Kara’s circle, except for Sam…

…and Jack.

Lena jabbed the call button and waited.

It rang, rang, rang again.

Finally, he answered.

“Lena?”

“Hello, Jack.”

“I must say I’m surprised- it’s rather late, and we haven’t spoken in a while. What’s on your mind?”

“I shot Lex in the face,” Lena said, shocked by her own hollow, distant voice.

The line was silent for too long a beat.

“Dear God, you’re serious.”

Lena choked out a sob.

“I had to, Jack. She was never going to be safe while he was alive. He almost killed her this time. He would never let her live if he knew how I feel.”

“Lena, darling, please, you’re not making sense. Look- I’m booking a flight out there now, but please, stay calm and try to tell me what happened.”

She didn’t know where to start, so she went back to the beginning, when she had learned how to trace Lex’s portals and followed him back to his lair.

She stopped herself before she gave it away.

“He showed me Supergirl’s real identity. He had proof.”

“I see.”

“I… she…”

“It doesn’t matter who she is. It hurt you, I know that. Listen to me, Lena- I’ve charted a flight and I’ll be there in six hours. Where is the gun?”

“I have it here.”

“Unload it, please. Let me know when you’ve finished.”

Lena flicked open the cylinder and dumped the shells into her hand, three spent and two unfired, then closed it again.

“Now, lock it up.”

Once it was in the safe she said, “done.”

“Now I want you to lie down. Stay in the apartment and wait there for me, I’ll be there presently.”

For once in her life, Lena did as she was told. Somehow, she fell asleep and didn’t wake until she heard the intercom buzzing.

Without thinking she pulled on sweats and a Midvale High Mathletes sweatshirt.

Kara’s.

When she opened the door she found a haggard Jack Spheer on the other side. He was a little older, beard salted with gray, but he was still him.

He swept into the apartment without a word, found the liquor cabinet, and poured drinks.

“Talk to me.”

Lena sat down and downed her two fingers of scotch in one motion. He poured her another.

“Kara Danvers is Supergirl.”

“The Kara Danvers? Your reporter friend? Your best friend?”

He took a drink.

“Your crush?” he added.

Lena stared at him. He met her gaze levelly.

“What you said on the phone before I left. That he would never let her live if he knew how you felt.”

Lena’s throat felt like sandpaper. She took another drink. It didn’t help.

“She’s not… I’m not… I don’t…” The words would not take shape. “She lied to me,” Lena finally choked out. “She did something I shouldn’t forgive and she used her double life to play both side against me. I don’t know what part of our relationship was real now.”

Jack studied his drink for a long time. He picked up the bottle and pretended to read the label.

“The last time we spoke she seemed quite taken with you. I assume that Lex knew all of this, or most of it.”

“He knew the broad strokes, I’m sure. I think he hoped that if he showed me, I’d join him.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No,” Lena said, in a tiny whisper. “I killed him.”

“Your brother is dead.”

“Yes.”

He poured more drinks, another round for both of them.

“Tell me about him.”

“You’ve heard all the stories.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Lena considered that for a moment, then began talking, rattling off whatever popped into her head. She started with the first time she ever met her brother when he and Lionel had come to Ireland to take custody of her, then began jumping around in time from the treehouse he tried to build to the time he told Lillian he’d kill her if she hurt Lena to his college graduation to when he declared to her that he was going to kill Superman, as if it were the most obvious thing to do.

Eventfully she ran out of stories, and they were running out of scotch. There was enough for one more glass each.

It was The Next Day by now, and mid-morning sun filled the penthouse.

“Are you ready to tell me about her?”

She was. Lena began with the first time they met- the mousy little wannabe reporter who followed Superman into her office as he posed as a reporter, how the Man of Steel himself seemed unimportant compared to Kara, how even then her heart fluttered and she felt a hot pressure low in her hips and Kara seemed to feel spending too.

She told Jack all about it- not just Kara but Supergirl too, about the plane and the office full of flowers and the lunches and brunches and movie nights and how this woman had burrowed into her life and made a home there and gave a home in return, about all the times she had saved Lena’s life.

Again the words ran out.

“Do you want my advice?”

“Yes,” said Lena.

“Talk to her. The woman cares for you deeply, that much is clear. Talk to her and see where you stand.”

“But,”

He raised a hand. “I’m telling you this because I think you’ll listen to me. You want my real advice?”

Lena swallowed. “Yes.”

“Your psychopath brother is gone. You own and run a Fortune 50 company. You’re on a dozen lists, 30 under 30, most influential women… you have virtually unlimited wealth and, if I dare say so, a woman who loves you.”

Lena sucked in a breath.

“Take the money, take the girl,” said Jack, “and live your life.”

She looked down at the empty glass, feeling the cold austere minimalism of her stark penthouse around her, and the tears began to flow anew. She wrapped her arms around herself and didn’t flinch when Jack took her in a bear hug.

“I want what’s best for you, and right now I think what’s best for you is ignoring that little voice in your head that’s telling you to blow up your life because you think you can’t be happy.”

“I knew,” Lena finally admitted. “I knew the whole time. I knew she was Supergirl and I knew I was in love with her.”

Lena wept softly on his shoulder for a time. He ended up staying the day and slept on her couch before leaving to return to Metropolis.

She was still wearing Kara’s sweater when she made the call.

“Lena? Are you alright? I was worried about you,” Kara said.

“Please come over,” Lena whispered. “I need to see you, Kara. You can come in through the balcony. The door is open.”

There was a too-long pause, and then the double impact of Supergirl’s boot heels on the concrete.

[vampzity]

restrictions | S.CB

★ DAY NINE: BONDAGE WITH CHANGBIN ★

pairing: bf! changbin x f! reader

Changbin never liked it when you misbehaved. It drove him nuts and you knew that. Yet you loved every punishment and every restraint that came with it. He was bound to show you what exactly happens when you go against him.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, dom! changbin, bondage, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, spanking , slight choking??, pet names (baby, slut, doll, pretty, good girl), cursing, changbin sees mc as his “doll”

word count: 1.5k

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

Changbin stormed into your shared bedroom, seeing that you were still dressed in your light blue babydoll dress and white heels. The babydoll was see through, enough to show the matching lingerie set you wore underneath.

You sat on the bed, arms crossed as he yelled at you. He slammed the door behind him, beyond annoyed with your impulsive actions.

“You never told me your friends were coming over. You just told me to sit in the room and wait.”

You pouted at him, looking away from the harsh glare he gave you. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he walked over to the dresser. He opened it, shuffling through it as you attempted to reason with him.

“I just wanted to show you my outfit. You forgive me, right Binnie?”

You received no answer, watching as he chuckled to himself. You tried to peek around him only to no avail as his figure was a lot bigger than your line of vision.

“I try to give you benefit of the doubt, give you some freedom.” Changbin closed the drawer, placing the things he grabbed on the top of the dresser.

“But you keep testing my patience, over and over.”

He turned around, walking over to your body. A large red ribbon was roped in his hands, his once calm look now a cold one. Your gaze met his as he waited for you to put your hands out. You kept them to yourself, knowing that there was no use in reasoning with him at this point.

He held his hand out, signaling for you to put both of your wrists out for him. You shook your heard in refusal, unsure of how unruly his punishment would be this time around. He sighed one of disappointment, rolling his eyes.

“You have 5 seconds before I start tallying.”

You immediately held your arms out, looking down as you tried to avoid his gaze. He wrapped the ribbon around your wrists, tying them together tight enough to cut off your circulation. He pulled you by your hands, bringing you to your feet so that you stood in front of him.

Your eyes still averted him, but he was quick to hold your chin up. His eyes hung low, a small smile painting his face as the grip on your chin tightened.

“Listen to me, and listen real good.”

He unbuckled his pants, letting the zipper fall. His buldge poked out from his underwear, ready to burst out of them. He pulled out his cock, pushing your shoulder down so that you sat on your knees. You eyed his member, watching how it throbbed in front of you as his hand ruffled through your hair.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty face of yours, and when I’m done,” he glanced over to the bed, his eyes falling to the hooks that would hold your ropes.

“I’ll be sure to put good use of this little dress you put on for me.”

Your heart sank, meeting his low eyes. He smirked at you, tapping his tip against your lip softly. He smeared his head against your lips, groaning at how soft they felt.

“Be a doll and open for me will you?”

You did as you were told, allowing him to slip his length into your mouth. He let out a soft groan, moving his hips slowly. His hand held the back of your head as he fucked your face, being careful to make sure you don’t choke.

He let go of your head, nodding at you to continue while he stood there. You swirled your tongue around his cock head, looking up to see him smirk at you. Drool seeped from the side of your mouth and into your chest, while coating his dick in the process.

Changbin tilted his head at you, sighing at how slow you were being with him. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, making a yelp escape you as you flinched under his touch.

“You think that’s funny, eh?!” You quickly shook your head no, afraid of his sudden remark.

He grabbed your head, shoving his cock back inside of your mouth and fucking you harshly. You gagged repeatedly as his head pushed against the back of your throat, feeling slight mounts of air leaving you. Your teeth grazed against the skin of his length, making a loud groan leave his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck baby..”

He slammed his cock into your mouth, admiring the drool dripping down your chin. Changbin wasn’t average either, oh no. He was big. He had girth and unfortunately for you, he was going to make you take it.

He pushed your head against his dick as he fucked you, throwing his head back in pleasure. Spirts of his precum lined your mouth, his dick throbbing in agony as he tried so hard to hold himself back. His thrust grew harder by the second, unable to keep himself in check as he got sloppy with you.

Hot loads of his cum filled your mouth as he continued to fuck himself through his orgasm. His cum dropped down from your chin onto your chest, nearly choking on as you were helpless with no hands to use.

“That’s it pretty, swallow it all like a good girl.”

Changbin pulled his cock out of you, watching as you licked the remains off his tip. He smirked, dragging you up by your arms and sitting you on the bed.

He undid the ribbon, switching it to one side as he placed another red ribbon on the other. He tied them to the hooks of the bed, keeping you in a position where your ass was facing him. He pulled on the restraints, making sure they were secure before walking over to the dresser and pulling something from ontop of it.

Changbin walked back over to you, pulling down his pants and getting into bed with you. He tied a gag ball around your face, stuffing the gag into your mouth and tied extra ribbon around your ankles, keeping your legs in place so you couldn’t move at all.

“Since you want to walk around like you’re some kind of slut.” he held a vibrator to your clit, turning it onto the highest setting.

“You can get treated like one too.”

He moved the toy against your bud, earning an overwhelming amount of moans and whimpers from you, only for them to be blocked by the gag. He rubbed the head of his cock slowly, watching as your legs shook uncontrollably at the pressure.

“Not so sorry now, huh?”

You stood there helpless as he abused your pussy, body feeling weak as your climax built inside of you. A loud smack rang through your ears, your ass suddenly tingling from the sensation that made you cry out.

“See how obedient you are for me?” he landed another smack to your ass, your skin turning a light shade of red. “That’s how I like you to be.”

He held his dick and rubbed it against your wet entrance before pushing himself in. He groaned in pleasure, taking his thrusts slow as he held the vibrator to your clit. A white ring formed around his member, as you had already let yourself go under the pressure.

“Aw cummed already? I hope you know that I���m not done with you babydoll.”

He held the vibrator against your clit, letting his thrusts fasten as you cried out in pleasure. Your cunt squeezed around him, barely able to take all of him in from how tight you were. You tugged at the bondage, body shaking from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby. I gotta open you up.”

Changbin spread your ass slightly, admiring at how stretched out you were becoming for him. Your pussy was swollen from his girth, from the constant abuse he gave it.

You whimpered, struggling to say anything as the gag made it harder for you. He dropped the vibrator, grabbing onto your waist and ramming into your sore cunt. You cried out, begging for him to slow down as his cock forced your walls open. His head brushed against your sweet spot, pounding it with every thrust.

“You’re such a good girl for me baby.” he threw his head back, cursing at the ceiling with every squeeze your cunt gave him.

“Look at how well you’re taking me, fuck.”

He leaned over your fragile body, kissing your back softly. His nails dug into your skin, your ass growing sore from how hard he pounded into you. He grabbed onto your hair, pulling your head back as you whimpered in pleasure.

“Gonna cum in this pretty pussy of yours baby. Need you leaking.”

Changbin smacked your ass for a last time, sweat trickling down his forehead as you struggled to keep your body from falling apart underneath him.

In no time he let out a loud moan, letting himself go inside of you. He worked his cum into your hole, being sure to not let any spill out of you before pulling out. He watched your hole ache for his size, slightly stretched from the abuse. He kissed your lower back softly, kneading his fingers into your ass.

“Next time you’ll know not to test my patience, isn’t that right doll?”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: YIPPEE DAY 9! lowkey thinking of doing a bonus special when this is all done. i’m thinking twt links for ateez & skz ? 🤭

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @dollywoo @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology @stephanieeeyang @potentialgay @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub

[sunshinemoonrx]

Hey There Sure Was A Lot Of International Espionage In The Funny Car Robot Show

AKA Boonboomger overall thoughts!

...it was kind of a weird one?

Like, odd helmet designs aside, when it was first coming out the main reaction was "oh hey, a relatively normal sentai after a few years of out-there experiments". And then it...kind of was that, and kind of wasn't? Compared to an anniversary season where 4 rangers are suit characters, Toshiki Inoue's 50 episode dick smasher, and 2.5D soundstage romance of the three kingdoms for baby, it is much more like a normal sentai.

But then the second half of this show ostensibly about a bunch of racing car drivers fighting a bunch of evil racing car drivers is increasingly about even the ostensibly benevolent powerful in society's willingness to collaborate with evil to squeeze more out of the people, and our heroes fighting the police, the government and major corporations, all while, let's not forget, still fighting the main threat this is all revolving around, which is gay alien Michael Jackson and his gang of evil racing car drivers (although to be fair, none of this would be out of place in a Fast & Furious movie at this point).

This is...more cohesive than it should be--at least, as a tokusatsu fan, I'm more than the usual level of primed to expect serious pathos from a silly car robot named Boondorio Boomderas--but I definitely was more excited about the show early on when it was in full silly baby chaos show mode than later on, as much as I think it's extremely sick when your sixth ranger is dropkicking SWAT guys. But that might be less to do with the tone change itself and more character-related?

Like, I see what they were going for with Taiya. He's kind of aloof and catty but with a heart of gold, he's got this unconventional hands-off leadership style where he gives his team a lot of independence and freedom...but they needed to go way harder on either the aloof bitchiness or the supportiveness because it all ends up a bit weak and muddled. He never gets close to the full potential of a tsun hero who needs to open up a bit more because he's also, like, an angelic friend to all children; and if he's just nice with a little sarcastic/soft-spoken tinge...look, the whole "supporting his team by being hands-off and subtly doing things for them in the background while letting them run free" idea is inherently harder to do in a show of this level of writing complexity (low!) than just, you know, showing he cares by having him obviously do things for them, and support them, and be there for them, and not just sorta stroll in at the end like ah! it all worked out just like I thought! sorry I was busy cranking it

So, I enjoyed the early episodes where he was still just kind of a funny weird cat, and equally Mira was so much fun early on. She was doing all kinds of genki red ranger bits, making weird noises, bashing things with the wrong end of the sword, loved all that. And she didn't stop being like that later on, but that stuff felt kinda crowded out by the plot and (relatively) more serious tone, so she just becomes more generically peppy. I think another thing that made it hard for them to pull off the serious stuff is. okay. this might sound like nitpicking, but the "having your own hands on your own steering wheel" metaphor catchphrase thing. I get it, I get what it means, it's a theme, it's cool. but it's kind of long enough that it's not just a word you flexibly throw into a sentence, it becomes the whole sentence, so now when you're trying to recall iconic lines and moments, half of them are just "the time they dramatically said 'I've got my hands on my wheel now'", and it becomes hard to distinguish between them. Scale it back a bit!

With all that SAID I still happily tuned in every week. Even if it was a bit less dynamically rocket-powered, I still like when we're fighting the government. I love Robot Team Rocket (I love Yarucar being a little toy they wiggle around to emote for dialogue so much), I love the world's most pathetically whipped househusband blue ranger, I love all the yaoi between cars, I love the robotfucker secret agent, I love the funny ending dance.

So yeah! It's pretty good! I liked it! But either I think they could have thought out a couple elements better to make it really support the epic serious plot stuff, or those could have not been such an issue if they just went full-on for being funny silly antics car show of all time.

oh yeah hey what was up with the literal plastic disco ball taiya dug out of the ground that was the manifestation of the earth's energy or whatever

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How To Plant Snapdragons | 17

Task Force 141, Keegan & Konig x Female Criminal!Reader

Previous Chapter / Masterlist / Discord

You jumped off the back of the pick-up, scanning the place where Ghost guided Hesh to drive. You reached your clenched fist skyward, groaning as you heard your bones pop. “A great driver, you are,” you mumbled, glancing at Hesh who was already flipping his middle finger at you. You grimaced at him not bothering to say a word anymore that might make Keegan combust any minute now. You followed behind Soap and Ghost, while the Americans walked at your your back.

“Where are we?” Soap questioned, looking from left to right. Whereas, you slowly turned yourself a three hundred and sixty degrees, before settling your eyes upon the house before you.

“Alejandro’s safehouse,” Ghost claimed. “He gave me the location just in case.”

Soap frowned at him just as you looked at the Lieutenant. “Why didn’t he tell me or Shampoo?”

You frowned at Soap, taken aback by the sudden call sign, and heard a snort behind you. No doubt, it was Hesh. You raised a middle finger over your shoulder.

Ghost turned his head to the side, and muffled a cough, before facing ahead. “It was a need to know.”

“What if I and she needed to know—”

“I’m a criminal, Mactavish,” you talked over Soap, walking faster to walk beside him.

He looked down on you, raising a brow. “So, what’s that—”

Ghost hushed him and slowed down on his tracks as the group approached the house. He looked down at the planks of metal underneath your feet. As just the members of Task Force 141 got into a conversation about it, calling Alejandro a ‘smart bastard’, you turned to the side, once again taking in the entirety of the house’s outside look. Enough to hold an armory, several vehicles, and dozens of soldiers. Logan followed close to you and pointed at the opened window. Meanwhile, Keegan and Hesh walked to the other side, eyeing the empty land across.

You snapped you fingers, successfully gaining the attention of the group, and nodded at the window that your brother pointed at. You climbed over it before anyone could stop you and aimed your gun forward, scanning for any hostile. You waited for Logan to come right after you until a red line came across your sight, and a gruff voice instead came to your ears. “Don’t move.”

Ghost launched a knife at the root of the laser, but hit a wooden pillar instead. The person hit behind it and you lunged forward, grabbing the person out of the shadows. The person grunted as he hit the ground and you placed the muzzle of the gun on his forehead, then you took in his features. “Rodolfo?”

“Mierda, Snapdragon,” Rodolfo breathed out as you moved away from him, letting the gun loose from your grip in relief.

(Shit)

You raised a hand, watching him stand up on his feet. “Lo siento, hermano,” you flashed a small smile, beating yourself up inside your mind and feeling guilty that you forgot about him. Your mind had only been going around Keegan and the Walkers, the 141, and how to fucking survive from the Shadows.

(I’m sorry, brother)

“Rodolfo!” Soap marched forward, his arms wide, and pulled the Mexican into a hug.

“Soap,” Rudy exclaimed, delight evident in his voice, and even smiled as he saw the Lieutenant. “Ghost! You guys are alive!”

You raised a finger, about to comment about him not being happy to see you, but quickly put your hand down. Once again, you beat yourself up in your brain, having the audacity to even think of that when you tried to kill him just now. You turned back to the window, motioning at Logan to follow in. He in return gestured at his fellow Ghosts.

“Who are they?” Rodolfo questioned, cautiously eyeing the other three who just stepped inside the safehouse as he pulled out Ghost’s knife from the pillar.

“Allies,” Soap immediately answered.

Yet, Rodolfo still narrowed his eyes at the Ghosts. “Allies? The Shadows were like that, too.”

You moved in front of the Walkers and Russ, waving a hand at them to stop in their tracks and speak of nothing. Meanwhile, you merely kept the smile you were showing the Mexican, and let the 141 do the speaking, considering they were the ones Rodolfo was putting his trust on at the moment.

“Snapdragon’s friends subdued the Shadows on our behalf, and helped us get around the town,” Ghost claimed, glancing at the masked men and you. “For now, General Shepherd and anyone outside this place is considered hostile.”

At this, you stepped forward, raising a hand. “Herschel is a no-go, more than half of the Shadow Company is his men,” you told them, making the lots focus their eyes on you. “I can vouch for Kate to be on our side. She’s the one who helped me uncover the tracks of Shepherd hiring mercenaries and planting them as Shadows in Graves’ company.” You came to a quick stop and kept a stoic face. Whilst you screamed in your mind, as Soap and Rodolfo’s eyes narrowed at you.

You shouldn't have said that.

The urge to smash your head against a wall had come to the maximum once again.

“How long have you known about that?” Rodolfo questioned, gaze becoming intense as time goes.

“Not for—”

“Not for long,” Ghost finished, meeting your eyes and holding it for a second, before he averted to to the Mexican and continued. “She had recently joined the Task Force 141, too. She was in the Shadow Company, before going under Laswell’s custody, then the team.”

You watched him take a deep breath, warmth blooming in your chest. You raked your eyes over his body, imagining yourself kissing every inch of him as thanks for an answer. But you quickly brushed it off, feeling something on your back—the warmth of a hand against the chill of your clothes—and swallowed.

God, Keegan.

“During that, she had been talking with Captain Price and Laswell about Shepherd’s plan,” Ghost took his eyes back at you, but again, he quickly shifted them back to Rudy. “Price had told me about it, and I told Alejandro. He told me about this safehouse in return.” This time, his gaze settled on you, and gave a curt nod.

Fuck, a threesome sandwich with Ghost and Keegan, then. With the masks and gears on. No lube, no protection, in the barracks, Price’s desk, on his couch, the bathroom, the hallway, at the back of the pick-up truck, in Alejandro’s safehouse—

You ran your tongue over across your lips and smacked them.  “Given that the Shadows might turn against and outnumber us, I called my friends over.” You moved out of the way of the Ghosts and gestured at them with a smile.

Hesh nodded at Rodolfo, but the other two remained silent.

After some quietness and pondering, Rodolfo spoke. “ I see.” Then, his eyes locked onto you, making all of them shift in your direction once again. “What about Graves?”

You sighed. “Him, I’m still partial. But—” You crossed your arms. “I plan to take him back.” You waved a hand. “Well, more than anything, we need Alejandro back.”

With that, Rodolfo finally gave some approval to you, nodding, before he turned away. “Come.”

You patted Ghost’s shoulder—a silent thanks—and as though a welcome, he tapped your head once again with his clenched fist. You glanced over to the other three behind your back and nodded, thinking of how to introduce the Ghost to the Ghosts. Well, it should be good.

Ahead, Rodolfo tapped open a lamp, revealing a wooden desk with a map laid out. It seemed he was already planning on his own before the lots of you came. To smoothen the paper, he put some bullets over, which were also acting as legends to determine people or places. “The Shadows is holding him here. The rest of the Vaqueros are in there too.”

You scanned the map as all of you took places around the table and raised both of your brows as you noticed the familiar layout. “Oh, shit.” You couldn’t help but grin. “I know this place.” You looked up from the map, running your eyes across their questioning ones. “I’ve told you guys I’ve been to Mexico, right?” you motioned at the 141 and the Mexican.

“You said two years ago,” Soap reminded, his lips pouting a bit out of curiosity.

“Yeah, I was with them.” You pointed a thumb at the Ghosts.

“Good times,” Hesh commented, flashing a smile at them.

“Exhausting,” Keegan refuted, glancing at the younger man.

You raised your index finger. “Both. But I’ve also been here with Graves, at that black site prison.” You tapped on the map.

“For what?” Keegan queried in an instant and your face whipped at him with furrowing brows.

“For a mission,” you grimaced at him, “duh.”

He raised a brow under his mask. “Uh-huh.”

You painted a scowl on your face. “What the fuck are you into—I have fucking standards! I wouldn’t have liked you even when you’re always ‘Snapdragon, don't do  this, Snapdragon, don't do that’!” You pointed in one direction, then another. “I swear to God, you’re more of a nagger than Merrick! And Graves?” You faked out a barf. “Yuck! Argh! Just thinking about it brings me back to the feeling of having maggots crawl on my skin like when we accidentally crawled on a fucking dead warthog in the Savannah, full of vermins and other organisms that should be extinct in the crust of the Earth, or when that fellow inmate of mine wiped her poop on the cubicle before I went to take shit just to spite me—do you even know how disgusting that is? Lord! Then, she did it again, so I fucking stabbed her with the toothbrush I sharpened on the fucking wall of the cell. The only time I was goddamn thankful to Graves that he pulled me out of the fucking prison Shepherd put me in was because I was finally out of that shithole worse than Hell! I swear my father isn’t experiencing that in the Gulag—”

“So you were saying?” Ghost questioned, making your mouth come to a sudden halt.

You scanned the room and pushed your lips together in a thin line. Soap’s expression was in the middle of confusion and concern, just as the same as Rofolfo who had already taken a step away from the table. You sighed. “I yapped again, didn’t I?”

Hesh raised a hand, slightly motioning at Rudy. “I apologize on her behalf.”

“Sorry,” Logan mumbled, giving a curt nod at the Mexican.

You nodded at him as well. “Yeah, sorry.” You coughed on your fist and continued, tapping on the map. “Anyways, the prison is outside of Las Almas, in a remote area. I think I’ve heard it previously had good security until the Narcos—was it Narcos?” You looked over at Rodolfo, who gave a quick nod of approval. “Then, it was permanently closed. Around eight months ago, Graves bought it—illegally, of course, and he brought me along with some other Shadows to look over it. He knew I was good at figuring out structures of buildings and possible hidden routes, picking locks. Unless he developed it without me knowing, there shouldn’t be any difference between the map we have now from the actual place. Well, now to planning on how to break in . . .”

Ghost and Rodolfo had begun to discuss the plan with the rest of you. There were some times you suggested a different route, which they agreed on. Hesh had asked some questions that Soap quickly answered, seemingly already friendly with one another. Whereas Keegan and Logan remained silent the whole time, curtly nodding in agreement with the plan. Then the group questioned what you planned to do about Graves, you spoke out your part, which they hesitantly accepted, but became part of the action. You smiled at the men’s interactions, taking you back to the time you would always discuss the plan with the Ghosts.

“So, we good?” You raised a thumb.

Rodolfo nodded. “Seems good, and a good time for late introductions.” He extended a hand to Hesh. “Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra. Second-in-Command of the Los Vaqueros.”

“Lieutenant David Walker.” Your brother took the Mexican’s hand, giving it a shake. “You can call me Hesh. And this is my younger brother, Logan. A Sergeant.” He motioned at the man beside him, who took off his mask. Hesh let go of Rudy and let Logan shake hands with him next. Then, he pointed at you. “Adopted sister. Found her around four years ago, like a stray cat on the sewers—”

“Shut the fuck up, sunuvabeetch,” you rapped at him.

But he ignored your words and patted Keegan’s shoulder. “Sergeant Keegan P. Russ.”

“I can introduce myself,” Keegan rolled his eyes and extended a hand at Rudy, nodding. “At your service.”

“So, you’re a Lieutenant,” Soap smiled widely, placing a hand on Hesh’s shoulder and reaching a hand at him. Hesh dapped it and they pulled one another close as though they were long-time friends, patting each other’s back. “Sergeant Johnny Mactavish. Call me Soap.”

“Aha!” David pointed at him as they moved away from each other, then at you. “That’s why you’re called Shampoo!”

You sighed. “Shut up.”

“No.” With that, he turned Soap away from you. “I saw all of that earlier, you know? The kiss, the way you look. I say,” he patted his back again while nodding, “start questioning your preference. She’s a gorilla on the loose—”

“I heard that!” You yelled. “Shut the hell—”

He immediately turned to you. “Shut the fuck up! Don’t you have anything better to say?”

You gasped at him. “Bitch!”

Yet, he ignored you turning back to Soap. “But I don’t mind another brother-in-law? Logan!” He turned to his brother. “Do you mind?”

“Another?” Soap echoed the only word that went through his ears.

Logan shook his head.

“What the actual fuck?” You mumbled, watching Logan approach Soap as well. He might be quiet, but he was as much of a gremlin as his older brother. 

“Y’lots are siblings, alright,” Ghost commented, standing beside you with crossed arms.

You were about to answer, raising a finger to make a point, but Keegan, on your other side, was faster. “Tell me about it.”

You put down your arm. Well, this could work as a temporary Ghost-Keegan sandwich. You cleared your throat and looked up at the two of them, eyes going back and forth between the two. You watched them share a glance and then gaze down at you. You swallowed, your heart slightly running faster—heck, skipping at this point like a jolly little kid. “Well,” you began. “Lt., meet Keegan. Keegan, meet Ghost—oh shit, wait!” You grabbed the two of them. “This is where it gets good!” You dragged them towards the Walkers warning the McRooster about you, and somehow they had pulled Rudy with them, who was shaking his head so hard. “Guys!”

They turned to you.

“Okay, Ghost.” You pointed at Simon as you formed a circle with them. “Meet the Ghosts.” You gestured both of your hands to the Walkers and Russ, and he looked over the three. “And you Ghosts, plural, meet the Lt. Ghost, Singular. Well, I guess you guys are native English speakers—oh, wait!” You pointed at the singular again. “British. Bo'ohw'o'wo'er.” Then, you motioned at the plurals, and you heard Soap snort a laugh. “Americans. What the fuck is kilometer.” You raised both thumbs and flashed them a wide grin, before covering your mouth, holding back the cackle threatening to escape from you.

Soap turned away from the circle, his body trembling, trying to stop himself from laughing. “Oh, good lord.” He wiped his face down with his hand and settled it down on his mouth, muffling another snort. Because of him, Hesh had turned away as well.

“So, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost?” Rudy pointed at each of them, then you. “And you?”

“Ghost.” You copied his movements. “Ghost, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost.”

“Spider-man meme,” Logan croaked, pointing at you.

You pointed both fingers at him. “Spider-man meme!”

“Ay, fantasmas,” Rodolfo breathed out and walked away.

(Ghosts)

“Bloody Hell,” Simon grumbled and turned away, following the Mexican. Keegan shook his head at the rest of you and followed behind the Lt.

Soap and Hesh finally burst into a fit of laughter.

“Wait, wait!” You chased after the three. “What do you call ghosts’ favorite dessert? Ice Scream! GYAHAHAHAHA!”

“I’ll go first,” Keegan said, jumping down the hatch and holding onto the ladder.

“So you can admire my ass when I go down?” you questioned, watching him roll his eyes and slide down.

He hit the bottom with a soft thud. “My ass is better than yours.”

You scoffed, following the rest of them who had already gone down, leaving Rodolfo behind to watch out. You carefully landed, walking behind him, and mumbled, “I’m not even offended at this point.”

You whipped your head up to see if Rodolfo was getting down as well but staggered on your feet. Suddenly, the world seemed to have rotated, dots of black scattered on your sight, and a pang of pain hit your head like a bat. Chills went down your spine, sweat quickly formed thick on your skin. You stopped in your tracks, blinking the dimness in your eyes away that wasn’t the work of the room, and let out a shaky breath. You clenched and relaxed your fists.

Fuck.

Then, Hesh’s voice echoed in your ears—a bit muted—but you managed to take in some words, about you loving Keegan’s ass. It sounded more like a complaint than anything. Well, if he had a girlfriend and would yap at you and Logan about the girl just as much as you yapped at the Walkers about Keegan and your fictional husbands, you would also want to rip our ears out and stuff them in his mouth to make him shut up.

Then again, Hesh was more of a devoted son and older brother than a person who would want a lover. But you couldn’t deny when you went with him and the rest of the Ghosts in pubs, the ladies loved him and Kick. You didn’t bother replying to him as Simon announced that he found the security building ahead.

Keep your head yapping. Keep it running.

The group slipped out of the watch tower, blending in the night, as phantoms would do, and as though with padded feet like cats, you positioned yourselves outside the metal door of the security room.

“Two inside,” Soap claimed. “Use short-range weapons.”

“Walkers,” Keegan demanded, nodding at the brothers.

Without a word, they carefully slipped inside and shot both Shadows through their heads in perfect sync. A fucking sight to see all the time.

You whistled and stepped inside the room, then grimaced at the scent of cigarettes sneaking up to your nostril. “God, cancer sticks,” you groaned, wrinkling your nose and stopping yourself from inhaling as you took position before one of the laptops on the table. But with the colorful keyboard shining before you, you squinted your eyes and inhaled loudly. “RGB? In a prison?” You wiped the blood that splattered on the screen and glanced down at the corpses by your feet, creating little lakes of blood. Letting the curiosity beat you, you reached down on them, turning their bodies to look for their badges. You clicked your tongue when you read their call signs. Not the one who shot you.

“Know them?” Ghost asked, taking the place beside you.

You shook your head. “No.” You patted their pockets, felt some flat yet bulky objects in, and fished them out. You stashed them under your vest.

“Wallets, what are you going to do with them?” he asked as Soap and Rodolfo tapped into the cameras and took their seats before the laptops, ready to guide the way in. Logan also volunteered during the planning to stay with them and help with the computers, given that Kick had taught him well during break times with the Ghosts.

“You’ll know,” you mumbled under your breath and stepped out of the room, not able to take the smell of the room anymore. You didn’t know how these men could. You took a deep breath, glad for the fresh air aside from the subtle scent of rust and blood lingering, and awaited at the gate for Hesh, Russ, and Riley to follow you out. Once they did, Ghost cut off the lock and moved out of the way as he pushed the gate open, gesturing to you to come in first.

You nodded at him and padded towards a huge crate, peeking around its corner. You spotted one shadow beside a truck ahead, but in your ears, Soap announced there were two—the other was hidden behind the open doors of the vehicle. You signed at Ghost who was behind you, and you both sneaked towards the truck. You struck the knife down the Shadow’s throat and covered his mouth to muffle his noises, which soon died down as his body went limp.

You grunted at the sudden weight but managed to put the man down carefully to avoid unnecessary sounds. You frowned at yourself. Your hands were sweating and shaking under your gloves, and you clenched around your gun to steady them. You rushed after Ghost, and with Soap and Rudy looking out for the Shadows in the cameras, you and the boys got to work on wiping them out.

They didn’t need a burden now. You could not be. You needed to keep proving yourself, to keep their trust running to help you. To keep yourself from getting killed. To keep you safe from your father. To help you put him under the ground.

But what if, this whole thing, you were the one putting them in danger instead? Should you have been honest from the start? No, you tried that with Shepherd, knowing his history with your father, but drew blood out of you instead. What about John? Did he really believe you or was that just an act? Did he truly tell Ghost or was it a lie to keep Rodolfo off your back?

Fuck, were you even doing the right thing? Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Damn it. How would you keep them safe—the Task Force and the Ghosts—while asking for their help, when you couldn’t even keep helping yourself and keeping yourself safe from you?

“. . . gon . . . dragon . . . Snapdragon! Walker Four!”

Someone shook you and smacked the back of your head, making the pain in your head come back with a throb. You gazed up at the assaulter and found a pair of sage eyes frowning down at you.

“What the fuck?” You croaked, but more to yourself than to him. You turned away from your brother, patting his arm off. “What the fuck.”

“Oh, see, she's gone mad, she's becoming a parrot—ow!” Hesh yelped and rubbed the back of his head where Keegan struck him.

Once again, you repeated the same words, eyes scanning the surroundings once again, and noticed that you had subconsciously followed them to the entrance of the main prison. You glanced down at your hands, slick with blood and sweat.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Keep your mind running. Keep it focused. Not go spiraling in your thoughts that you would become a fucking machine to kill people!

You weren't a tool.

You weren't a weapon.

You approached the group and noticed Rodolfo and Soap had already joined. When? You didn't know. God, where had your mind run off to? Just as Ghost voiced out his command, you flung your palm to your cheek, hard and loud, making him stop instantly. All of them stared at you as though you pointed a gun at yourself.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, ignoring the throbbing pain on your head—not from David's hit but something else—the chill you were feeling, the sting on your shoulder, and now the ache you inflicted upon yourself.

“Stay frosty,” he demanded and bashed his hand against the metal door.

You nodded and aimed at the door as it opened, blasting the head of the Shadow that peeked through the crack. The group rushed inside in a hurry and as soon as you all turned to the corner, echoes of guns filled the air. You threw out a grenade, breathing heavily, and aimed ahead.

You fired several rounds and slid behind crates, looking out for the enemies of the second deck. You ducked your head as bullets rushed towards you, hitting the walls and crates. Then, you saw Keegan rushing ahead, with perfect timing as he slid into the open space, he shot down several men with minimal waste. With that, the Walkers followed through, creating a path for the 141 and Rudy.

You got off behind the crates and aimed at the men emerging from the upper level. You waited for more as the others ascended the stairs and no one came. You trailed after them, but as though your feet had stuck on the floor—became heavy and hard to move, you tripped on the flight of stairs. Yet, before you hit the corners, a hand grabbed your arm, pulling you upright. You peered at Logan, brown eyes squinting at your face, concern evident in their dark colors.

“Are you? . . .” he started, and oh, God, you knew if he started asking how anyone was, it was obvious that a person wasn't in good status.

You shook your head, hearing Hesh call at the both of you in the middle of the staircase, knowing the conversation happening between the both of you. Goddamn, you couldn't hide anything from these two. “Don't tell anyone,” you told the younger Walker and continued to climb up the stairs.

Several gunshots rang, then thuds, and you found the group in a room. Ghost took position before a metal door and took his tool out, easily cutting the lock off. Soap rushed in and a familiar shout came inside the room along with the Sergeant.

Rudy had also stepped in and you watched him grab Alejandro away from Soap, calming him down just as the Colonel recognized the Scot.

“Sup,” you waved a hand at the Colonel as he stepped out of his confinement.

“Snapdragon,” he nodded at you, then frowned at the unfamiliar faces in the room. “What do we have here?”

“Allies,” Rodolfo answered, giving you a nod as well. “Her friends.”

“I see,” Alejandro extended a hand to you, which you shook. “Gracias, Hermana.”

“Anytime, sir.” You smiled at him, but glanced to the side, looking at the several doors in the hallway ahead. “Where's Graves?”

“He's here.” Rodolfo gestured at the door across Alejandro's prison.

“You go in for him,” Ghost ordered

You nodded and gazed over your shoulder, raising a hand at the Ghosts. You knew, they knew what had happened between you and Graves—putting you in prison on behalf of Shepherd only to pull you out and make you one of his mercenaries. Considering that, the moment they see the Shadow himself, they might empty their magazine on him till Phillip becomes unrecognizable. They remained silent and you turned back to Simon.

Ghost positioned the tool on the lock and with much ease, he snapped it off.

You pulled the door open and whipped your eyes to the wall on the side where Graves pushed himself off.

“Snapdra—”

You wrapped your hands around his throat and squeezed, slamming him against the wall where he came from. “Motherfucker! Bastard! Fool, this is why I told you to watch your fucking back from Shepherd! AAAAAAAAAAA—”

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own / Discord

Taglist: @yyiikes @the-faceless-bride @cassiecasluciluce @annoyingstrawberryballoon @unicorngirly1 @thriving-n-jiving @squidalapobre @tallicaside @eustassh

[ranhaitanisbitch]

movie night with mammon

-mammon x gn!reader

cw: just sweet

synopsis: mammon invited you over for a movie marathon

a/n: hope you like it! i feel like i should make a part two of this. i'm open to suggestions, requests for other one-shots and constructive criticism. don't hesitate to reach out ^_^

word count: about 900

Mammon doesn't remember the last time his room had looked this clean. He had spent the whole afternoon picking up clothes from the floor, sorting stuff, cleaning the floor and doing stuff he had never done before. Absurd stuff like wiping the back of his bed's headboard. He knows nobody cares about the back of his headboard, but somehow he has the urge to have everything in perfect condition. After all you are coming over. Maybe he was doing too much, but he wants to impress you. Yesterday Mammon found out you had never seen a single Harrison Porter movie in your life, so of course, being the fan he was, he invited you over to a Harrison Porter movie marathon. He was excited to say the least. It's not like you had never been to his room before, but this felt more like a date than a casual movie night.

Wait- did you think of this as a date too? Or was this really just a movie night between friends for you? Of course Mammon didn't actually call it a date when he had invited you over. If he remembers correctly he said something along the lines of, "Of course a mere human wouldn't know about  stuff like that. Let the great Mammon show ya some good stuff". You had rolled your eyes at that, but you had agreed. 

Mammon takes a last look around his room and suddenly feels a nervous feeling taking over. What if you actually did see this as a normal hangout between friends and thought the cleanliness of his room was suspicious... Mammon usually never cleans his room to this extent and you know that. He opens his laundry basket and throws a singular dirty sock in the middle of the room. There, casual atmosphere restored. Now that this problem is taken care of, all he has to do is wait for you. 

There's an anxious tingle in Mammon's chest when he hears a soft knock on his bedroom door. "Come in!", he shouts and wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans. As he hears your feet shuffle along the floor he turns around to face you and immediately regrets it. You're already wearing your pajamas which consist of only a tanktop and some shorts. The demon blushes and turns around again hoping you haven't noticed the red color that is now tinting his cheeks. “I brought some snacks”, you smile and sit down on the couch right next to Mammon. “Yeah, yeah… put ‘em on the table”, the demon tries to appear as nonchalant as possible, which seems to be impossible with you so close to him. Your legs aren’t even touching, but he can still feel the heat coming from your thigh next to his and he has to resist the urge to reach out and feel some more of your body heat. He decides to start the movie instead. 

A few minutes into the movie you try to get more comfortable on the couch and shift around. You end up half laying half sitting leaning on Mammon’s shoulder. What you don’t seem to notice is his breathing becoming slightly uneven while he tries to hide the fact that he is getting excited. “Damn clingy human”, is all he mutters as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him even more.

By the third movie the demon notices you getting tired when your eyelids keep falling shut. You desperately try to keep them open and pay attention since you know how much Mammon loves those movies, but the more you try to fight it the sleepier you get. You’re so focused on pleasing Mammon that you don’t even notice that he hasn’t been paying attention to the movie himself. Not one second. The only thing that occupies his mind is you, how good your body feels pressed to his and how cute you look as you try not to fall asleep. The whole duration of the three movies he sneaked secret glances at you and admired your reactions to the scenes instead of watching them himself. He gently nudges you, “hey… it’s time to go to bed.” You whine. “But we haven’t even finished the third movie yet.” Mammon chuckles at your sleepy whines. “It’s okay. We can watch it another time.” That means you two will have some more movie nights, Mammon thinks with a giddy smile. “You should really head to bed now. You can barely keep your eyes open.” You groan in annoyance, but get up anyway. The demon already expects you to head to the door when you suddenly plop down on his bed. Even though he had wished for you to stay, he expected you to head back to your room after the movie marathon since it was only down the hall. Now he thanks whoever had heard his prayer and granted him his wish. “Mammooon! I’m cold”, you whine and pull him down on the bed with you. He smiles and lets you cling to his torso like a sloth. After a few minutes your breathing becomes more even and Mammon is sure you’ve fallen asleep. He kisses the top of your head gently, “good night, human.”

[dragonagegayz]

Taarsidath-an halsaam!

Rating: Explicit

Game: Dragon Age The Veilguard

Pairing: Emmrich x Rook, Emmrich x TransFtM Rook

Word Count: 4328

Rook is used as the name so while I had my character in mind, he is vague enough to be any Rook I believe. There is another reference to Minrathous but it's like one line lol

Summary: After defeating the Fangscrotcher, Rook finds himself feeling a lot of things and luckily our local necromancer comes in to help poor Rook deal with all his feelings in more ways than one.

The title comes from that one Iron Bull line in Inquistion, if you know you know :)

Rook felt fantastic.

Killing the Fangscrotcher had him running on high adrenaline, the buzz still going through his bones as the group headed toward the dragon's lair. It was like they were vibrating under his skin, nearly nauseating him with the force of it but fuck if it didn’t feel amazing. He felt high, he felt overwhelmed, and like he had just run through all Thedas. He felt like he could jump and go flying into the sun. He felt ready to take down another dragon.

He felt horny.

Hot, sweaty, and this need to grab that damnable necromancer he brought with him for the fight and just go to town. To kiss his lover, to rip away all of his clothes, and just ravage all parts of his body the elf could get his hands on. He wanted to taste the sweat he knew was sitting under his armor; he wanted to feel the way his hair was lost from the product after the fight and maker he needed to feel his fingers in him. 

He let his mind wander a little too far, and before he knew it, Rook was biting down on his tongue to try to muffle the whimper that tried to bubble past his throat. Taash didn’t seem hear it; they were obviously too preoccupied with the thought of the Antaam and this strange Dragon King. Emmrich however…

“Are you alright, darling?” Oh… Of course, he had to ask with the sweet nickname. Rook swore he did it on purpose; there was no way he was oblivious to the way the elf’s ears would twitch with every darling, and dear the necromancer would slip into conversation. Now didn’t feel any different. The leader of the Veilgaurd tried to answer, he really did, but he found his mouth full of cotton when he looked over to the other man. He looked beautiful. His hair was mused from the fight, his eyes held such sweet, sweet concern, and that damn mouth, open just little, plush lips just begging to be kissed. This time, Rook couldn’t stop the whimper. 

Emmrich froze in place when the noise came out, and both men looked over their shoulders to Taash. Nothing, they were busy trying to kick the door open to have heard the obscene noise that had left the elf’s mouth. They looked back at each other. Rook was nearly startled when he met his lover’s eyes and the dark, nearly predatory look he saw. His bones felt like they jostled under his flesh. “Darling,” He drew it out on purpose, there was no way he didn’t do it on purpose. Another pathetic whimper, quiet this time. Emmrich’s eyes still darkened.

“Taash?” He called out, turning over to the qunari as Rook quickly looked away. He knew the heat on his cheeks had to make them bright red. They would definitely know something was going on if they saw it. “Hmm?” They hummed, obviously not really paying attention. “Do you want to look around for anything else left by the Antaam? Rook and I can take care of the treasure if you desire,” He was so calm, so put together, the complete opposite of what the elf felt. Something about the way the man had said treasure, too, long and drawn out as he glanced over at the elf with the corner of his mouth quirked up. It felt like a challenge, one where Rook had to fight against everything in himself, not to jump the older human right there and then. He stopped himself, if just barely. “Yeah, ok,” Taash had answered, turning back towards the camp they had run into. They paused by the elf, who tried desperately to look anywhere but them.

They would definitely have figured out something was up with the way his cheeks were burning up; he could even just barely see their redness if he looked down enough. “You two gonna be alright on your own?” They asked gruffly, Emmrich gave a polite chuckle. “Yes, Taash, I believe Rook is just a little jazzed up from the fight, I will care to them. Please, do what you need,” The elf wanted to roll his eyes. Of course, Emmrich would phrase it that way, but luckily for them, the Qunari didn’t seem to think anything of it and took off back to the Antaam camp. A few moments passed before a delicate hand was placed on Rook’s lower back, nearly causing him to squeak. Before he could lift his head up to look at the older man, a warm breath tickled his ear.

“We wouldn’t want to be disturbed now would we?”

The elf tried desperately to contain the moan that tried to crawl up his throat, very slightly tilting his head up to meet the mage’s gaze. There was intense heat to his gaze that almost made Rook falter, it was confident, daring in a way that made the elf feel their age gap much more than usual. This time, the whimper pressed past his lips as he desperately tried to form words. “We should, uh, we should go to the… to…” Emmrich wasn’t even touching him sans the hand on his lower back, it wasn’t even a heavy touch, just a light graze of his fingers, but it was enough to drive Rook insane. He needed the older man now. Luckily, the necromancer was a very smart man in the language of Rook, so with a gentle chuckle, he guided the elf towards the building with the gentlest touch to his spine. The vague touch was almost as maddening as the heat in Emmrich’s eyes, just barely there and definitely not enough but when Rook tried to press back into it, he simply pulled his hand away. “Are you alright my dear?” He asked, sickeningly sweet concern dripping from his voice in the most teasing way possible.

Rook never knew that such tortious treatment could come from the polite man. He’d have to reevaluate the man in his mind, and find a way to return the teasing he was receiving now.

But for now, Rook was at the man’s mercy.

“‘m fine,” the elf garbled. “We should head inside,”

He urged, trying his best to look up at Emmrich with the most pleading eyes he could pull. The mage chuckled at him. His hand returned to Rook’s lower back, a finger trailing down his lower spine and pausing right before it ventured too low. “Well, lead the way, darling. I’m right behind you,” The older man teased. Rook bit down on his tongue, he refused to give the other man the satisfaction of any more sounds without a proper touch from him, he would stay strong.

This was immediately tested when he started walking, and the man, without warning, dug his thumb into the elf’s spine, causing him to give a high-pitched yelp and a shudder to run through his body. Rook shot a glare at the man over his shoulder, but of course, Emmrich’s face was a look of innocence as they continued on, finally passing the threshold into the dragon’s hoard. He saw the mage’s mouth open, probably to make some sort of educated comment about the impressiveness of the horde, but the elf didn’t let the words pass his lips as he grabbed ahold of the man’s collar and yanked him down into a kiss. The damn bastard didn’t even have the gaul to seem surprised, only humming into the kiss as he set gentle hands on the younger man’s boney hips, just barely squeezing. Their tongues met as Rook desperately swiped against the other man’s lips to be let in, which Emmrich graciously allowed, but it was still like a barely there kiss as the elf felt so overwhelmed with lust while the mage kept his cool with his calm demeanor. It drove Rook insane.

After a few failed attempts to deepen their kiss, the elf pulled away with a whine, pressing his head into the mage’s neck and burying his nose deep into the man’s sent. It was sweat, very near musky, with little hints of the necromancer’s cologne hidden underneath the other smells. Rook wanted it on his tongue. “Why are you torturing me?” He asked as he swiped his tongue against the older man’s Adam’s apple, feeling it bob as he chuckled in response. “I don’t possibly know what you mean, darling,” The hands-on Rook’s hip squeezed and pulled, forcing him to stand up on his tiptoes to become eye level with the human. “Perhaps you can use your words to tell me what you want?” The man suggested as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Another whine made its way out of the elf’s mouth at the evil man’ssuggestion. If there was one thing Rook hated, it was asking for what he wanted. 

Alright, hate was a strong word, but voicing his desires didn’t come to Rook easily. With past partners, they always just did whatever, and most of the time, he was fine with it, there wasn’t much talking to the random alleyway hookups the elf would have in Minrathous, but leave it to Emmrich to change things up. For a moment, the elf thought about refusing, just using wordless gestures to try and get what he wanted, but looking into the mage’s eyes killed that fight instantly. They were so big, so deep, and so patient as if they had all the time in the world, and Emmrich would wait for Rook for however long he needed. It was almost too much.

With a huff, the elf lowered himself back to his heels and took a few steadying breaths. He felt shaken, the buzz in his bones settling down slightly but never going away. It was almost more maddening to be calmer. The buzzing might have been less, but it definitely felt more noticeable. His breath was shaky as he opened his mouth to speak. Had his mouth always been so dry? “I want, I-” Rook had to lick his lips, not missing the way the mage’s eyes followed the gesture. Another shudder went through his body; there was no way Emmrich didn’t feel it from where he was holding onto the younger man’s hips, and he could have sworn he saw the older man’s eyes sparkle when he felt it. “Go on, my dear,” He urged, making the other groan. “You’re cruel,” The elf whined, which only made the mage chuckle. Rook took a few more intakes of air, not that it felt like it was helping at all. 

“I want you to touch me,” The leader of the Veilgaurd finally managed, batting his eyes up at the older man in hopes it was enough to get what he so desperately wanted. Another answering chuckle and Rook already knew he was going to hate the answer. “Aren’t I touching you already, my dear?” Emmrich teased, giving a barely there squeeze to the hips he was holding onto. Were he not such an asset to the team (and Rook’s life), the younger man would have thrown the older man off the nearest cliff for the response. Rather immaturely, the elf actually stomped his feet in frustration as he groaned, once again digging his face into the cruel mage’s neck, which earned him a breathy chuckle. '“Please, Emmrich,” He begged into the man’s neck. For a moment, he thought it wasn’t enough and that the man would force him to try to unjumble his thoughts and speak his desires, but it seemed he was ready to take pity. The hands left Rook’s hips in favor of holding either side of his face and gently pulling him from Emmrich’s neck so they were looking at each other again. There was a fondness in the man’s eyes that made the elf’s heart skip a beat. “But of course, my dear. Whatever you desire,” Was all he said before once again bringing their lips together, this time matching the desperate energy of the younger man.

One thing Rook never tired of when it came to kissing Emmrich (besides literally everything about it, for the number of men he had been with, the mage was definitely the best kisser) was how confident the man was. He knew what he was doing, and he felt no shame in showing the elf exactly that, and damn if it didn’t make the younger man just melt in response. The sure swipe of his tongue as the man invaded his mouth, exploring everywhere he could reach and meeting the other’s tongue with grace. While usually, to Rook, it felt like fighting for dominance, when he and Emmrich kissed, it was like a dance. One you would see in a big ball, elegant, graceful, and oh-so-romantic. Rook loved it, he really did, but fuck if he didn’t want more. The elf pulled away, ready to urge the man to get on with it, but he didn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before Emmrich’s was once again pushed against his, this time, the man used his grip on the younger man’s hips to begin pushing him back. Rook didn’t even have the wherewithal to understand what the older man was doing, far too distracted by the instance of the man’s mouth as he was hurried backward. It was a miracle he didn’t stumble, considering the amount of gold on the ground, but even if he had, the elf knew Emmrich would have caught him. Before he knew it, his back hit against a large chest, but Rook didn’t get a chance to really care as the other man’s hands finally left his hips and began exploring the rest of his body. 

Luckily, the younger man’s armor was relatively thin. He could feel the skirting hands just barely through the fabric wrapped around his body, but unluckily, there were a lot of pieces to it, meaning easy access to all of Rook’s body would not be possible. Good thing Emmrch was an excellent improviser. He pulled away from their kiss, which Rook tried to bring him back in, but the older man just chucked and tsk at him, going instead for the elf’s ears as his fingers began feeling around the sash wrapped around his body, slowly untying it as he nipped and bit at the sharp ears of Rook. The younger man bit down on his tongue in an attempt to hide his noises from spilling out, which evidently upset the other as he pulled away, leaving only his hands on the elf’s hips again, much to Rook’s disappointment. “Why-” He didn’t even get to barely start his thought before he was pulled close to Emmrich, their chests touching as the man returned to untying the younger man’s sash. “I want to hear all of your noises, darling. Do not hold back,” He responded, leaning down to lavish a gentle bite onto the elf’s neck, not hard enough to brush but just enough to be remembered. Even in his lustful, near-delirious state, Rook had the wherewithal to huff. “But Taash-” Again, he didn’t get to finish, but this time cut off by his own moan at the next bite his lover gave him, this time it’d definitely bruise. “Is far away at the camp, we have the privacy for you to be free with your sounds,” The mage reasoned. Were Rook less overwhelmed, he’d laughed at the older man’s insistence, when they first started their romance, the elf would have never thought that Emmrcih would be the one insistent on being loud. He was glad to be wrong.

Not needing any more encouragement, the younger man let out a sigh and moan, but evidently, it was enough for the other, as he received a matching one in return and another deep bite. Rook should discourage him; after all, everyone was going to see their aftermath. While it would be fine if it was just the team, they were all supposed to meet with the wardens at some point in the next few days to help with whatever Lavendel needed. He could already imagine the unimpressed look Antione and Evka would give him, and the smug look Emmrich would probably have behind him. But, that was something later Rook would have to deal with as now Rook could only let out whines of encouragement the more times the older man dug his teeth into the elf’s neck.

Finally, the mage was able to untie the sash around his waist, tossing it to the side in a very unlike Emmrich manner. A show of the desperation he was also feeling. There was no hesitation as he parted Rook’s shirt, his own moan bubbling out when he finally got to touch the smooth, pale skin underneath. Whimpers spilled from the elf as he felt those elegant fingers skirt across his sensitive skin, the buzz in his bones once again coming back with full force. “E-emmrich~!” His voice cracked, but the younger man didn’t even care, not under the ministrations of his very caring lover. There was one final nip to his neck before the older man pulled away, pushing his forehead against the other’s as he looked deeper into the elf’s eyes. There was barely any color left in Emmrich’s eyes, just a vague ring while his pupils consumed the rest of his eyes. It nearly left Rook speechless.

Nearly, instead, the elf found himself babbling near nonsense under the gaze of his lover.

“Oh, Emmrich, please, touch me. I’ll beg, I’m not proud. I need to feel you against my skin, my clit, my pussy I don’t even care whatever you want, just please, please, PLEASE touch me!” The words just spilled over, breathlessly rushing through them with whines and moans in between the words. Rook watched as Emmrich’s eyes somehow grew darker as the words came out, that damnable smile on his lips growing with each passing whine that echoed throughout the chamber. Suddenly, the elf found himself being flipped around, his chest pressed against the top of the chest, and his ass being angled so it was up and out. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but the younger man found he didn’t really care, his pants were wretched down, and his wet pussy was hit with the cool Arlathan air, making him shudder in response. Emmrich let out a rich groan at that, which made Rook moan in response. “Oh my darling, you’re just absolutely soaked,” The elf couldn’t see what the other man was doing, so when a finger swiped through his folds, he couldn’t stop the yelp of surprise. “All from killing a dragon? Or was it me, I wonder,” He mused aloud, letting his finger trail through the gathered slick there. Rook moaned loudly, no longer letting his inhibitions stifle his noises. “Y-you!” He whimpered out, trying to push back against the vague ministrations for any sort of relief. “It’s all you, I watched you throughout the battle and-!” The younger man was interrupted by his own loud, high-pitched moan as the other man slipped a finger into his hole, how easily it slid into his pussy with how wet he was. Rook should have been embarrassed, but under his lover’s warm gaze, he knew it was something to be proud of. An answering chuckle filled his ears. “Were you now? I would have thought you would be preoccupied with the dragon we were fighting,” Rook shook his head, minutely pushing back against the finger in him, trying to get as much out of it as possible. “I always watch you, Emmrich; there’s no way you don’t know,” He whimpered. The finger slipped from him, and he gave a choked sob. 

His lover shushed him sweetly, draping over the elf, back to chest, and he wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him up. Rook could feel the older man’s erection pressed against his ass, he tried to grind back, but the hold on his shoulders stopped him, much to his frustration. “I want to,” He started, but very quickly, Emmrich shushed him, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “No, no, my dear,” His voice was hoarse, showing that he wasn’t as unaffected as he was trying to come across as. “This is my treasure, my prize for taking down the dragon. Let me have you how I wish,” As much as Rook wanted to argue, he found he couldn’t as the man’s other hand trailed down to his clit, just barely swiping across get head of it, sending sparks through the elf’s vibrating bones. Another loud whine echoed throughout the building, which Emmrich answered with his own groan as he finally pressed harder into the man’s clit. The younger man choked on his next sounds, hips holding as his lover began to relentlessly press on, the slick from his fingering making the fingers glide seamlessly. “There you go, my darling, let your sounds out for me, let the world hear how you’re mine,” The words were near a growl, just more show of Emmrich’s composure shaking, and Rook loved it. So rarely did he get to see his lover lose his careful, composed self, and to be the one causing it to falter, even just little, was a high like no other. 

Well, except maybe an orgasm.

“Close-” The elf choked out, and while he should be embarrassed with how quickly he’s found himself on the edge, he just can’t find it in himself to be. Not when he is at the mercy of such an expert lover who gives pleasure in the most sincere, overwhelming way. It was like anything Rook had ever experienced before with his long trail of terrible boyfriends and half-assed organisms. If there was one thing about the mage, nothing he ever did was less than stealer, this was no exception. “Come, my dear, let me hear it, let me feel it,” He muttered against the younger man’s sweaty neck, and the arm around his shoulder pulled away and went down. Two fingers slipped into the elf’s pussy, the gloved fingers too, which Rook couldn’t fight against even if he tried. He came with a loud, long moan, head flung back against the necromancer’s shoulder, and his hips jolted back and forth, trying desperately to ride the waves of his peak over and over again. The buzz in his bones only intensified the feeling he felt, sparking throughout his limbs to his fingers and toes. He stayed high in the haze of his organism longer than usual, the burst of adrenaline elongating his pleasure for as long as possible. To Emmrich’s credit, he tried to stay still so as not to overwhelm his lover, fingers still buried deep in the man’s pussy and the other hand still pressed against his clit, but both unmoving.

Finally, when the high began to surpass, and Rook took in a few gulps of air, the older man pulled away, fingers carefully withdrawing from the younger man’s hole and clit. A sweet kiss was placed on the elf’s ear. “Thank you, darling, that was spectacular,” He muttered, a dreamy lift to his voice. However, the Veilguard leader frowned as he pushed back, feeling the man’s erection still stiff against his ass. “You didn’t come,” Rook muttered unhappily, trying against to press against the man’s cock, but Emmrich pulled away, humming thoughtfully as he pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve. Gentle swipes began to clean the other man’s pussy, which he tried not to shutter against as sparks of overstimulation traveled through his body. “No time, I’m afraid, but either way,” Emmrich was affectionate and careful as he cleaned up most of Rook’s mess, throwing the cloth to the side as he reached down to pull up his lover’s pants, pressing a kiss to the man’s lower back before fastening them back up. “I get plenty of pleasure watching you experience yours, my dear,” He said oh so casually, and Rook had to bite down on a whimper.

He felt his lover pull away, so the elf turned himself around, still leaning against the chest as he didn’t quite trust his legs to hold him steady yet. Emmrich leaned down, picking up his sash that the old man had thrown aside easier, and when he came back up, Rook had to laugh as the man’s hair was loose and messy, as well as a pink tint to the tip of his ears. He gave the younger man a quizzical look as the elf pulled the sash from his hand, wrapping it around the man to pull him close and leaning up, placing a kiss on his lips. “I’m repaying the favor once we get back to the Lighthouse,” Rook decided, cutting off his lover’s attempt to argue back with another kiss. Emmrich tried to fight once more but, again, was cut off by a kiss from the other man. Then, he just sighed, wrapping his arms around the younger man to bring him close, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Then I look forward to it, my dear,” He mused.

The two stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. A strange feeling began to bubble in Rook’s chest, and he felt the need to say something. He opened his mouth, ready to speak, ready to say something rather crazy, when a loud voice echoed through. “Hey, you two done yet?” Taash’s voice made the pink in Emmrich’s ears worse as his face dropped and eyes widened. Rook immediately bursts out into laughter, which makes his lover groan and bury his head into the younger man’s neck. “Damnable luck,” The older man muttered against his lover’s skin, which the elf laughed at, hand coming up to pet his hair down to make him look a little more presentable for his ego.

“Come on dear, let’s go home.”

“Gladly, darling.”

Here is the post on AO3 if you're interested! Thanks for reading friends!

[okminer07]

Disastrous Dinner

“Kids! Dinner!” called Alice, setting down in the center of the table her homemade mac and cheese. Garret hurried over and took his seat while his brother Richard peered down the hall to Eliza’s room, “Eliza sweetie!”  

Instead of Eliza, her cousin Dylan came running over. He was a bit older than her, already in middle school while she had just started first grade. Richie had been tasked with taking care of the little scamp for the weekend while his parents went on some sort of vacation his dad had earned from work or something.  

“Where’s Eliza?” 

“She says she’ll be out in a moment.” The boy pushed past his uncle and went to sit down at the table as well. Richie looked down the hall once more before sighing and heading over to the table himself.  

“Should we wait for her?” asked Garret, though secretly he hoped the answer was no, he was starving. It had been a little bit since he and Cecilia had been invited over for dinner at his brothers’, Eliza now in school and needing a babysitter less and less. However, that never stopped his sister-in-law from trying to make arrangements at every chance she got.  

“Where’s Cecilia? I haven’t seen her either in a while,” asked Alice, scanning the table as if to see if she had missed her.  

Garret peered around it as well, “None of you have seen her?” 

Richie shook his head, “Last time I checked she was entertaining Eliza.”   

He turned to the young boy sitting on his right, “Did you see her in Eliza’s room before coming to the table?”  

“Nope. Haven’t seen her for a while either. Though I thought I saw her hanging around her somewhere.”  

Garret’s eyebrows knitted together and he leaned back in his chair and scanned the floor around them, “Cece? You around here?”  

No response.   

He stood up and tossed his napkin aside, “She might just be on the other side of the house. I’ll go see if I can give her a lift. Go ahead and start without us.”  

Pushing his chair in, he started towards the hallway. Without warning, a short startled scream echoed through the room. Garret paused, turning on his heel. Alice had her hands clasped over her mouth, eyes bulging out of her skull.  

“What?”   

Her husband followed her line of sight and instantly froze.  

“What is it?”   

He was met with nothing but stares. Though he noticed, they weren’t directly upon him, but much lower down. His eyes trailed down to the floor and fell upon a tiny puddle of a liquid-like substance. A red liquidy substance.  

It felt like all his organs and dropped out of him. His eyes widened as they observed the small trail of red puddles starting from under the table by his seat, all the way to where he was standing now.  

Garret’s mouth fell open, lips quivering as he slowly lifted up his shoe. There, on the sole of his sneaker, was a red smudge. 

The sound of his quickening heartbeat filled his ears, growing louder and faster, drowning out the rest of the room. No… no no no no no no no  

His foot fell back onto the ground, trembling like the rest of his body was now. No, no please, I- I- no I-  He began to stumble backward, letting out a small whimper as the red trail continued to follow him.  

Ce- Cece-  

No no, he couldn’t have… he wouldn’t have allowed it. His back struck the wall and he slid down onto the floor. He stared down at his feet, at the splotches of red trailing after him. Please.. please…. No, Ce- His vision began to blur and his eyes began to sting. Hands came up and began raking through his hair while his cheeks grew wet.  

“I-I-I… I did… I didn’t- no I….” his heart was kicking and thrashing like a wild animal within his ribcage. Burning bile began making its way up his throat as he choked out a ragged breath. 

S-she’s… she’s, he didn’t want to finish the thought but his brain continued on, ignoring the agony it caused him, she’s gone. I’ll… I'll never see her again, never…. Never hold her again. And..and it’s my fault! I-I…  I did...did this. I… I… I’m…. I’m a mon- 

“Uncle Garret? Are you okay?” echoed a far-off voice.  “Why are you crying?”   

“I-I-I d-didn’t… I didn’t mean to. B-but she… she…. She’s g-gone. ”   

“Garret?”  

He froze, the soft and quiet voice bringing his heart to an abrupt stop. Blinking back his tears, he whipped his head in the direction of that voice. Standing a few feet away was his niece, and at her feet was… Cecilia.  

Her features were etched with concern as she ran over to him, “Garret? What happened?” 

His lips mindlessly formed incoherent words as he stared down at her, making sure it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. She… was she really…. He hadn’t….  

Without a second thought, he leaned down and his hands reached down for her. The moment she was securely wrapped in his fingers, he whisked her off the ground, bringing her up to his face and hugging her to it. Fresh tears began to creep out from behind his eyes as he held her there, alive and unharmed.   

Cecilia didn’t fight against the embrace but leaned into it, spreading out her arms to hug him back, “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” she soothed. He continued to sniffle and cry, continued to be a blubbering mess, “It’s… it’s okay I’m here. Tell me what's wrong?”  

“I….I thought you were… I thought I’d….” he gasped for breath, choking out another sob. 

“You thought you’d what?”   

“I…I…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, to for a moment, relive what he thought he had done.  

The scratching sound of wood against wood filled the sniffling silence as Richard got up from his seat and rounded the table. He stopped before one of the red puddles and crouched down, scooping a dollop of it onto his finger. He gave it a sniff, his eyes widening before he tentatively licked it.  

“Ketchup?” he looked over to his brother, “But why was it on your-”  

“I’m sorry!”  

Everyone in the room whipped their head around to Dylan who had gotten up out of his chair and was white as a sheet. He stared down at his feet, a pained expression on his face. Richard stood and walked over to him. The boy squirmed where he stood, refusing to look up at his uncle as he spoke.  

“I… thought… It was meant to be a joke.”  

Garret’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open, “A…a Joke?!”  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cecilia wincing and her hands flying up to cover her ears, “Sorry.” he muttered, lowering her away from his face.  

His brother stared expectantly at Dylan, urging him to continue, “I thought... It would be funny. And I was told it would be too.”  

“Who the hell told you that this would be funny?” growled Richard.  

“Grandpa.”  

Everything around them stilled, even the air. Garret looked up from his hands and at Dylan. “Da- Grandpa said that?” 

He nodded.  

He looked at his brother, his jaw clenched. Richard sighed, shaking his head, “Damn it.”  

Garret looked back down at Cecilia, his eyes starting to water again, “If it’s alright with everyone, I think we’ll be leaving.” he looked to his girlfriend for approval, she nodded.  

“That’s fine.” said Alice, coming over and placing a hand on Eliza’s shoulder, “Say goodbye to your uncle sweetie.”  

Eliza pouted, “But why?”  

“He’s not feeling well. Now say goodbye.”  

She looked at Garret, “Bye Uncle Garret.” and then down at Cecilia, “Bye Auntie Cece.”  

Garret managed to smile, standing up and ruffling his niece’s hair, “Bye sweetheart.”   

“Thank you for inviting us,” called Cecilia as he headed for the door, his fingers slightly curling in around her.   

“I’ll be sure to give Dad a call.” grumbled Richard, “I have a few choice words to say to him.” 

Garret nodded thanks to his brother before closing the door behind him. 

This was something that just came to me one night. I hope I've gotten better at writing emotional scenes.

[amplexadversary]

Fuck spheres

Drawing a goddamn Poke ball should not be this difficult.

[lovebugism]

Someone knocks at the door while you and rockstar!Eddie are fucking and instead of stopping he goes faster while yelling ‘In a minute’ to the person at the door

the one where your friends keep catching you and eddie having sex (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, implied enemies to lovers, cw for smut 18+)

Let it be known, that it would take a nearly apocalyptic nuclear war — or something rapture adjacent, at the very least — for Eddie Munson to stop fucking you. Most people have learned this the hard way. You included.

You’re a panting mess beneath his pale, tattooed form. Eddie’s body, made of milky white silk, grows slick with a fine layer of sweat as he thrusts mercilessly into you. His curls sway around your face each time his lean hips collide with your open thighs. The dull clapping sound that fills the bedroom is punctuated by Eddie’s choked-back groans and your subdued whimpers.

The two of you always make it a point to be polite about your fucking — never quite as loud as you want to be, so as to keep from traumatizing your roommates. Like respectful adults. So it’s entirely Steve’s fault when he barges in with a halfhearted knock like a total psycho.

“Hey, do you guys wanna—” The boy freezes at the sight of his best friends, in a pile beneath the covers, who before now hated each other’s guts. His face screws together like he’s tasted something sour. “Jesus Christ…”

Eddie ceases his thrusts to toss Steve a look over his freckled shoulder. He never moves off of you, effectively shielding your naked body from his view, nor does he pull his stiff cock from your pulsing confines. Much to your horror.

“What?” the wild-haired boy wonders through labored breaths, face flushed red with sex.

“I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to come to the movies with me and Robin,” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes, already on his way out. “But you’re obviously busy—”

“Wait— That new buddy cop movie?” Eddie calls to the boy’s retreating form.

“Eddie!” you hiss through your teeth, filled with panic and distant pleasure, ‘cause the idiot’s trying to have a conversation like he isn’t balls deep inside you. He flashes you a wide-eyed chocolate stare like he’s innocent. “Stop,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah. Start’s at eight.”

“Well, don’t leave us, alright?” he tells him. “We’re coming.”

“Gross,” Steve mumbles and shuts the door behind him.

Eddie turns back to you. His curly bangs are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead in places. His glowing cheeks are tinted a faint pink color. His lips are swollen and rosy as they curl into a smirk. Sex is written all over his face, painfully so. 

“That pun wasn’t intended, by the way—” Eddie jokes before you swat at his lanky bicep. “Ow!”

—————

A year or more later, you and Corrodded Coffin are selling out venues across the country. The world is a whole lot bigger than The Hideout, apparently. ‘Cause, as it turns out, more than just a couple of drunks care about seeing your band play. 

Somewhere down the line, you and the lead guitarist of said band are more serious about each other than you ever planned to be — much to the dismay of the rest of your bandmates. Not because they hadn’t spent years waiting for you guys to get together (they most definitely had), but because it was virtually impossible to have privacy while living on a tour bus.

Despite your feeble efforts to stay as subtle as possible, it’s dreadfully apparent when you and Eddie are fucking. The door to the bunks slides slowly shut, and Jeff and Gareth wait with walkmans over their ears until it opens again. This time, they flip a coin to decide who has to interrupt.

Gareth loses (‘cause Gareth always loses) and curses under his breath while he knocks on the closed door. 

“Do you guys want food?” you hear him ask over the heavy breathing in your ear. “That fancy ramen place across the bar just offered us dinner.” 

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson is riddled with post-show adrenaline as he all but fucks you stupid. His curly hair is as wild as his glassy eyes, now smokey around the edges with smudged black liner. He keeps his chest flush to your spine as he pounds into you with a primal sort of vigor — one ringed hand curled in your hair, the other gripping the plush of your hip.

“Nah, man!” he calls back, choppy through labored breaths, ‘cause he never stops thrusting into you. You’d be worried about the quiet clapping sound of his hips against your ass if your head weren’t so fuzzy. “We’re good!”

The promise of food reminds you that you haven’t eaten since earlier that day. Suddenly, you’re overcome with unexpected hunger and looming pleasure. 

“Wait, Eds,” you pant. “Food actually sounds really good right now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes in response, even though you both know he’s gonna give you what you want either way. First, a leg-shaking orgasm that you’ll in feel in your limbs for a half hour after it’s over. Second, all the damn ramen you can eat.

“Fuck, fine— Okay, we’re coming!” Eddie shouts. “Just give us, like, ten minutes, will ya?!”

Gareth grumbles faintly from the other side of the sliding glass door. “Yes, master,” you hear him grouse as he stalks off back to the living area of the tour bus — where it’s safe. 

A laugh rumbles in Eddie’s chest as he starts fucking into you again. You bury a whine into your pillow when his balls slap your clit. He presses his mouth to your ear, and you feel his lips curling into a lopsided smile there. “You call me that, and we’ll be outta here in thirty seconds flat, sweetheart.”

[ghostsprincess]

I can't stop thinking about Ghost being such a gentleman when your boyfriend is an ass....

warning: domestic abuse, adult language

💀

You were mortified that it happened at work this time...

Your boyfriend was a brute of a man, made worse over the months by drinking alone at night while you bartended to help pay down your student debts from several years ago. He got a little rough with you, but only when he was plastered. And you forgave him, because he was decent the rest of the time.

But suddenly you had to start coming to the pub to pull pints with a little extra makeup on your face. The random patrons out for a casual drink wouldn't have noticed, but your regular boys did. You only knew them by Ghost and Soap. They were military and mean looking, but they laughed together like teenage schoolmates. It was always a good night when they sat at the bar, but you could often feel their eyes on you.

"Y' alright, love?" Ghost asked the first night you wore extra eye makeup and a bright red lipstick.

"Yes," you told him, not meeting his eyes. Your face hurt. Your boyfriend had slapped you two days ago. Your skin was puffy and bruised, and you were embarrassed and afraid to move out, so you stayed. "You boys need another round?"

They left you a sizable tip. They always did.

The next time you saw them, your lip was split open, and you were desperate for a way out of the mess your life had turned into. Trying to hide your face while you mixed drinks was a chore, and as soon as Ghost and Soap arrived, you knew it was useless.

When Soap disappeared toward the washrooms, Ghost leaned across the bar, his hulking shoulders taking up more than their fair of space, making you smile slightly. His voice was deep and soft, but his words made you shiver and freeze with your hand on a pint glass. "Y' know, a pretty little thing like you belongs on a pedestal. A man should touch you with reverence."

You stared at him silently as his eyes tracked the mark on your lip. When Soap returned, you didn't charge them a cent for their drink, but they tipped you well anyway.

When a confrontation happened at the bar, tears stung your eyes, and you wanted to hide. Your boyfriend was drunk and angry, and tonight he beckoned you from behind the bar to a dark corner near the hallway where he could have some privacy while he berated you and roughed you up.

"Please," you begged, running your hands nervously on your shirt. "Just go home. I'll be off work in an hour."

"How many of them have you fucked?"

"What?" you gasped, thinking he'd finally lost it. "What are you talking about? I need to get back to work."

He pushed you up against the wall with his other hand on your jaw. "How many of the men here tonight have you fucked?" His thumb brushed the spot on your lip that was nearly healed, and you flinched. "You have the guiltiest expression. So, tell me how much of a slut you've been. As your boyfriend, I need to keep you in line."

Then he was being hauled away from you as your legs shook. With wide eyes, you watched Ghost's massive bicep wrap around his neck like it was nothing. "Y' alright, love?" he asked you softly, and you nodded without saying a word. Then his face darkened, and his voice was an angry snarl as he told your boyfriend, "Ya' been relieved of your duties."

"The fuck?" he responded from his headlock, gasping for air.

Ghost sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' prick don't even know military protocol." Then he raised his voice a little louder. "I said, ya' been relieved of your duties. I'll take over from here."

Somehow, you found your voice. "Take over?"

Ghost's face softened again when he looked at you there against the narrow hallway wall. "With the boyfriend duties," he told you while Soap dragged your ex-boyfriend toward the exit. "Sound good, love?"

He was holding out his big paw of a hand, palm facing up, and you knew he'd be incapable of using it to hurt you. The softness in his gaze right now and every time he looked at you was proof enough of that. You didn't respond, but you smiled as you slid your hand into his grasp.

"That'll do for now," he grunted.

That was the night you came to know him as Simon.

💀

Part two

[arcanefeelings]

SUCKER ! | kamo choso

words: 1k

description & tw: virgin!choso - you give him head for the first time (oral - m!receiving), overstimulation(?), cum eating

notes: he's just so babygirl I can't help myself

masterlist

okay but imagine giving virgin!choso head for the very first time.

he's all flustered and blushing, pupils dark and dilated, gaze fixed on your face as you sink to your knees at his feet. your fingers are hooked into his belt loops as you go down, pulling him down to sit on the sofa behind him as soon as the back of his knees hit the cushion.

a soft huff of air leaves his bitten, swollen lips, when he sits with a small bounce. soft breaths leave his parted lips as your hands move to the hem of his shirt, fingers pushing one corner of the fabric up, up, up, till it's caught between his lips. his torso is exposed for you to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses all over, hands moving back to his pants, nimble fingers undoing his button, then the zipper, as you tap his hips to lift them while you tug them down his thighs.

you're kneeling between his legs, hands caressing his soft hips, lips tracing his v-line, till you move down, down, down. you press your parted lips over the tent in his boxers, kissing in gentle teases and drawing soft whimpers from his lips. choso's hands grip the cushion of the sofa, knuckles turning white while he screws his eyes shut for a moment.

when they open again, theres a plea written in them, something so desperate and needy you can't help but indulge him.

your hands tug his boxers down, freeing his swollen, red cock. there was no way you could have really known before, but he was big. his tip was flushed, red from your teasing and wet with precum, dribbling from his slit. his cock was girthy, and long. god, was his cock long.

you don't realise how you look right now, but choso does. he sees the way your pupils dilate to match his when his cock slaps against his abdomen as you tug his boxers down. he sees the way you nearly salivate at the sight of it, at the sight of him.

and it's all he can do not to whimper when you finally wrap a hand around him, fingers gently squeezing at the base of his cock, wrist turning and tugging experimentally. his teeth clench against his shirt, his hands tightening on the couch cushion.

his gaze is fixed on your hand and your gaze is fixed on his face.

you're taking in every reaction you can, every change in his expression, to see what makes him tick. what makes his dick twitch in your grip? what makes his hips buck harder into your hand? what makes him leak even more? because, as you learn soon, choso is very leaky. he's so aroused by the sight and the feel of you, that his tip is constantly glistening with precum.

that's when you tug slowly, moving your hand up, along with the twisting motions from earlier. you repeat the movement. once. twice. his eyes shut again, tight. its like he's denying himself from making any sounds, his teeth sinking deeper into his shirt. and that's when you change it up again.

you bring your grip higher along his cock again, thumb swiping over his slit and then working your hand back down. and he whimpers.

it's soft, but oh so sweet. and oh, the things you'd do to hear them again.

so you try again, this time, with yet another tactic. your free hand rests on his pelvis, thumb circling over the bone. and then you lean closer, eyes locked on his face through your lashes as your tongue darts out, licking the fresh pre from his slit, and his eyes snap open, a saccharine-sweet moan leaving his lips. the hem of his shirt falls from his lips and you miss the sight of his bare torso for a moment.

"cho," you whisper, lashes fluttering up at him, and he nearly comes right there, "you can hold my hair." your hand on his pelvis moves to one of his hands on the couch, gently prying his fingers from the cushion and guiding them to your hair. they thread through the locks, gripping them tight as he groans softly.

"you look so pretty like this," you whisper, hand going back to his hip, thumb once again tracing circles. you hear the way his breath hitches, see the way his eyes widen fractionally.

and then your lips wrap around him, suckling the mushroom tip, and his head falls back with a whine, hips bucking into your mouth as he cums down your throat. whispered apologies leave his lips, a few drops of hot cum seeping past yours as he holds you in place by your hair, whimpering as he rides out his orgasm.

"'m sorry - hah - baby," he chokes out, "nngh - sorry-"

but you moan, swallowing every drop you can, gagging around his length as your eyes roll back, watery and hazy, but trying to focus on his. his cock twitches at the sight, the wet, clumped lashes sending another rush of blood straight to his cock as he spurts the last of his cum down your throat, panting.

he whimpers under his breath as he collects himself, apologetic and embarrassed for cumming so soon, and you can't help the way you find it all so utterly cute.

because, truth be told, you had been surprised. but you were not put off, by it, quite the opposite. it was pretty attractive. not to mention, he came a lot - it was a rather hefty ego boost.

he gently loosens his grip on your hair, muttering softly, and while he may be done, but you aren't. you'd never given anyone head before, but you were sure that him cumming in your mouth the second you took him in wasn't the 'full experience'. and you were oh so willing to help him get that - a little too willing, in fact.

so you pull away from his cock with a string of saliva mixed cum attaching your lower lip from his tip, licking your lips and then cleaning him up, ignoring his whines of surprise and overstimulation when you move from his trimmed base to his ruddy tip.

only to wrap your lips around him again while he grips your hair tighter, at war with himself about whether he should make you stop, or let you go ahead.

but he was powerless under your mouth - this time you were determined to suck him off properly and then drink his cum. or keep trying till he let you.

[seravphs]

battle of wills

Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.

wc — 2.7k

tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness

“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.” 

Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested. 

He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself. 

You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.

You can: 

a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you 

b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing 

c) fuck around and find out

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

[sleep-0-deprived]

Before I start, I just wanna say I love your work, keep it up!!

A bit of a feminine m!reader and a stalker, kind of like the song stalker’s tango by autoheart (praise kink and anything you wanna add)

Love me love me love me~! (Stalker Oc x feminine male reader) ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

WC:. 1.5k

Tags: praise kink, back shots, creepy character, dub con (reader doesn’t say but he wants it), stalking, spit as lube, men in panties, college AU, p in a sex, bad prepping(basically no prep cause he wants reader to feel em), slight Yandere themes?, coming inside panties, lil come play<33

A/N thanks for the request! I didn’t know your kinks so I tried to keep it pretty vanil for the fic but I just get the vibe that the stalker is a lil bit of a yandere ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

College was the time you were supposed to be the most happiest. freedom, no parents breathing down your neck and looking at you wearing your new skirts and finally away from Him…anyway this is the beginning of something new and that made you terrified excited.

Here you were grabbing boxes from the back of a hand me down car you bought last year, your hands full walking around campus searching for your dorm room. The sound of other college students bustling past even a frat boy running through the corridor laughing while another man smacks his shoulder.

Your heels clicking on the floors getting into the elevator finally out of view of the other students, not caring if they stared at you when you walked past them in your little skirt.

Finally finding your door room, room 234 in the third wing on campus. Pulling the door open and then it happens, the boxes nearly dropping from your hand “Jasper?..” the man that single handedly ruined your teen years, the man you filed a restraining order against- the one that stalked you since middle school, putting cameras inside your shower, under your bed.

There he stood in all his glory, black hair all messy with his green eyes piercing you over like an interested cat, a crooked grin on his lips looking at you like some god before him. You quickly sit your boxes down on the twin bed to the left of the room with your hands now by your side looking at him.

“Did you miss me any [name]? I really missed you, so goddamn much” he walks over to you leaning down and shoving his face into your neck breathing in your scent without a care in the world “how’d you find me Jasper…my parents made sure you didn’t know the colleges I applied for” your lips pressed into a thin line standing stiff and finding no comfort in the man’s touch.

“I total you I’d never leave you baby? Can’t live without you [name] I wouldn’t wanna” he kisses his way down grabbing at the hem of your shirt slipping under it and massaging his palms into your sides.

“Y’know I don’t want you Jasper, I never have so just stop” you mutter out all squeaky trying to get away even if your body knew you wanted it, even if you couldn’t deny you found him hot you’d never admit it so you did the next best thing and tried to push away but only failing in return.

“Don’t lie to me baby, you’re already getting hard so hard in that little skirt, it’s like you’re asking for me to fuck you?” His lips muffle themselves against your skin starting to suck it red while holding you pined between him and the wall while his second hand makes its way down to your mini skirt starting to lift it.

“Dammit Jasper… stop that” you speak out because you’re in to deep to say otherwise feeling your cock bulging in the pink panties you were wearing. You had no stockings under your skirt letting your bulge get exposed while you go red in the face feeling jaspers hand snaking down giving it a rough squeeze before pulling his lips off your neck breathing heavy in your ear.

“Just be a good boy and bend over for me sweetheart” you don’t know why but you walked over to your twin size bed, not even getting on it just bending over on the side of it and shoving your face into the sheets standing in a pair of heels spreading your thighs.

“Mh, baby so fucking beautiful, no idea how long I’ve been imagining this” he lifts your skirt in the back showing off the cotton fabric with little bows riding up between your cheeks making him smile reading his hands down and grabbing your cheeks spreading them and watching how your rim puckers up against the panties.

His thumb rubbing down your crack spitting on your panties and using his thumb to rub the now translucent fabric against your bud making sure to get it nice and wet while you lay with your cock weeping against the mattress feeling your knees buckle from the feeling.

“O-h you’re a pervert Jasper!” You yelp out and try to yell at him but fail when he reaches his hand off your ass cheek and grabs the back of your neck shoving it into the bed making your voice get muffled, “such a cruel accusation [name] I’m not perverse, I just love you baby?”

He’d coo to you from behind while the hand messing and teasing with your rim finally pulls your panties to the side of your ass just admiring how you’d clench around the air so effortlessly, your rim half prepped from all those nights you’d whine and finger yourself in your bed. Which of course he knew about back then, he had cameras?

“Want me to fuck it?” He’d ask you softly even though you knew he was going to fuck you either way “y-eah” you nod into the pillows gasping when he lets go of the back of your neck to undo his jeans making sure your skirt was pushed upwards on your waist, “you should really get a tramp stamp sweetheart, get me something all pretty to aim at when I’m coming all over that pretty arch”

Your face went red as a beat becoming more thankful he was behind you so he couldn’t see your reaction but he already knew it when your rim winked at him again trying to swallow his finger tip like quicksand having him all giddy and infatuated with you. Jasper having been waiting years to get his cock nuzzled between those perky little cheeks.

“So warm sweetie, just gonna fuck you so nice baby” his voice comes out rigid pulling his boxers down letting his manhood spring free finally standing tall against his t shirt before he presses his dick between your cheeks and uses his hands to grip both cheeks sandwiching his cock between them as he rocks his hips spitting down on your ass again using it as lube fucking between your cheeks having your face down and your ankles bending out in your heels.

“Just push in already Jasper, don’t fuckin tease me~” you moan reaching your hand down to your panties starting to palm yourself through the panties feeling yourself soaking the Cotten closing your eyes just feeling what’s happening to your body having you melting like ice cream during summer.

“Always a greedy boy weren’t you?…well doesn’t matter, still love you” he speaks nudging his pudgy cock head against your rim spreading the muscle open wide making him hiss “fuck that’s it sweetie” he tilts his head back rubbing your ass cheeks softly trying to get you to loosen up around him having him on cloud nine scrunching his nose up bottoming out inside you ready to come on the spot.

“Jas— oh’m g-od” you croak and choke on your words going loose and fuzzy in the head just laying with your ankle wobbling to stay bent in your heels just screwing your eyes shut only opening them with he gives your ass cheek a little smack letting you adjust to his girth. Jasper bucks his hips forward making your face droop back down as his hips squish your plump skin.

Your hands going limp like jello under you unable to palm your neglected cock, just laying with your body limp letting him have his way with you praying to whatever was up in the sky that other students didn’t hear Jasper giving you back-shots on your first day at campus. “You have no idea h’many nights I imagined getting myself inside your pretty body, mmh you’re worth the wait sweetheart”

You feel your rim on fire when his base stretches you wider making your back arch trying to take him, your cock jumps in your panties at his dirty praises having you in hysterics hating the man but also just wanting him to hold you close and fuck you like you deserve, you’d never tell him though. “You can start movin-!” You cry out arching under him gripping the bedsheets tight.

“Shh stay quite sweetheart, stay nice and sweet for me [name]” Jasper speaks softly moaning under his breath bucking his hips feeling a hot flash in his abdomen trying not to come before you but goddamn you were like heaven around him, you were his addiction, his ambrosia and he couldn’t get enough.

The sound of flesh in flesh filling up the dorm, his hands gliding over your body gripping the skin like a feral dog fucking you from behind having you reaching for the wall while the bed creaks shaking back and forth while your eyes open back up going wide and dumb when his cock assaults York inner walls hitting your sweet spot having you loosening up not clenching his cock so tight, jaspers hands pulling in your panties from behind making them tighter in the front, making your cock pulse against the firm fabric

“Please Jas, please just—“ you beg, you break you fold flush like a bad poker game not even knowing what you were pleading for just knowing you needed to come so bad your balls were swelling up going red in your panties about to explode when his cock halts pushing further and further against your prostate like a rubber band being stretched and pressed further and further about to snap.

“Please what sweetheart? Tell me what you want, promise I’ll give it to you” he speaks to you like a doll in complete opposites to how he was fucking you, his hands reaching letting go of your panties making you squeal from the release of pressure, he keeps fucking you thrusting and pumping his hips pressing his pubes to York lower back reaching up under you to your stomach to hold you up.

Holding you up half off the bed fucking you harder with your face still in the sheets and your hips raised high for him mewling feeling your favorite skirt go higher up on you. “Please make me cum, please get me off Jasper” you whine and you spasm around his dick. Your rim trying to take more until his balls press against yours, running together when he fucks into you.

“Come for me baby, just let go, lemme make it all better for you doll” his pace picks up fucking you like some jack rabbit in heat. His hands tugging at your belly leaning forwards leaning back down laying on top of you bent over the bed heaving in your ear kissing the red marks he made on your neck snaking one hand down inside your panties tugging on your cock.

“S’ happening jas, gonna come” you can’t help but to shiver and let go of the bedsheets arching your back against his stomach crying out wailing all cock drunk slurring your words while your cock pulses in his hand coming all inside your panties only further soiling them when the thick ropes leave your red cock head feeling like a release through your whole body having your balls relax a little once they’re fully emptied.

“There’s my good boy, I knew you were a sweetheart, just needed a little pounding to bring it out” Jasper kisses your neck sucking on the red marks using his canines to pinch the skin letting go York your cock and slamming into you harder becoming less in rhythm and more desperate to get off.

You can feel his balls drawling up when they press against your ass, his veins rubbing more prominent against your inner walls having you biting your bottom lip with your toes curling in your heels while he thrusts one more time inside you piling out with a loud gasp “o-h fuck [name] feel what you do to me?” He asks shuddering behind you fucking between your spit slick ass cheeks letting his cock nudge your rim but never actually pushing in.

The next thing you know hot ropes of cum pump out spewing all over your hole getting between your cheeks feeling the hot liquid running down your arch getting on your back and your skirt practically coating you like he meant it. “Thought you were pretty before but admit seeing you covered in my cum makes you even prettier”

He lifts his head from your neck whispering the words out to you before slipping his hands from under you and massaging the cum all over your body rubbing your cheeks down with it slipping two slickened fingers inside you again playing with you before pulling out.

“Let me have a date baby, I promise I can treat you so good, I’ll be so sweet to you I’ll be s’much better than your ex was” he whispers to you cooing like a snake in the garden of Eden ready to tempt you into his sinful world. “You’re fucking crazy Jasper” you huff lifting your head laying now lifting yourself up on your elbows with your body aching from the rough fucking you just took, his hand marks and imprints leaving your skin swollen.

“I’m only crazy for you, you’re the only man that makes me feel it…only wanna kiss N’ love, only wanna come on you sweetie”

[pucksandpower]

Shameless

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: you + Lestappen + a sex tape leak + one very unamused head of communications … need I say more?

Based on this request

The Red Bull Racing communications office smells like stale coffee and impending doom. Portia, the team’s head of communications, sits stiffly in the center of the storm, knuckles white around her phone. She stares at the video playing on her laptop, horrified but unable to look away.

The footage is intimate, explicit — grainy but undeniably clear. Three people, tangled up in sheets, moaning names, gasping into each other’s mouths. Max Verstappen. You. And, unmistakably, Charles Leclerc.

Her inbox is a dumpster fire of urgent PR memos, emails with subject lines in all caps, and press releases that have already been revised half a dozen times. She hasn’t even responded to half of them yet. No point.

This is beyond damage control.

The door swings open violently, smacking into the wall. Max strolls in first, looking every bit as casual as if he just finished a training session. You follow behind him, your hair in a messy bun, holding a half-eaten croissant. Charles is the last to enter, chewing gum like this is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Portia blinks at the three of you. “… What the hell?”

Max plops into the chair across from her, sprawling out like he’s just arrived at a friend’s house. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Portia repeats, incredulous. “You-” She gestures frantically toward her screen. “The video. The world just saw everything, Max! You, her, him-” She throws a desperate look at Charles, who only shrugs.

“Yeah. We saw,” Charles says casually, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to Max. “Kind of funny, no?”

Portia makes a strangled noise in her throat. “No! It is not funny, Charles. None of this is funny!” She can already feel the migraine creeping in, sharp and mean behind her left eye.

Max leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Listen, it’s not like we were hiding it. We’ve been-”

“Friends,” you interject, your voice calm as ever. “Very close friends.”

Charles grins. “Really close.”

Max winks. “Super close.”

Portia pinches the bridge of her nose. “Stop saying that.”

“You’re the one freaking out,” Max says, as if that makes any of this better. “It’s not a big deal.”

Portia throws up her hands. “Max, it’s not just a sex tape. It’s a scandal. Sponsors, shareholders, media outlets — everyone is calling. Red Bull is losing its mind, Ferrari is fuming, and the internet-” She gestures vaguely toward the air, as if the internet is some wild animal loose in the building. “-is losing its collective shit.”

Charles leans back, folding his arms behind his head. “The internet always loses its shit.”

“True,” Max agrees, glancing at you. “Remember when they thought we broke up because I didn’t post anything for two weeks?”

You hum thoughtfully, finishing the last bite of your croissant. “They were so mad.”

Portia stares at the three of you like she’s trapped in some bizarre fever dream. “Are none of you remotely concerned about this?”

Max shrugs. “Not really.”

“It’s out now,” you say, wiping your hands on a napkin. “What’s the point of stressing?”

Charles nods like you just delivered the most profound truth of the century. “Exactly. It’s not like we can put it back in the box.”

“Oh my god,” Portia mutters, pressing her palms to her temples. “You’re all insane.”

Max flashes her a charming smile — the kind that usually gets him out of trouble. “Come on, Portia. You handle worse than this all the time.”

“Not this, I don’t!” She groans. “I mean, sure, we’ve dealt with crashes, team infighting, broken engines, drunk interviews-” She shoots a pointed look at Max, who grins unapologetically. “But this? This is next level.”

Charles checks his phone, seemingly unbothered by her panic. “The fans seem to love it, though. Look-” He flips the screen toward Portia. It’s a Twitter thread full of memes and heart-eye emojis, captioned with things like Lestappen and Y/N living their best lives and Honestly, goals.

Portia glares at the phone like it just insulted her family. “This is not helping.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Actually, it kind of is.” He points at the screen. “If the fans are cool with it, the sponsors will calm down eventually.”

“Sponsors are not fans.” Portia slams her laptop shut, as if doing so will somehow make the problem disappear. “Sponsors are very rich, very conservative people who do not want their logos anywhere near a video of you having a threesome!”

Charles clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Technically, it’s not just a threesome.”

Portia shoots him a death glare. “I swear to God, Charles-”

You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Max notices, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he nudges you with his elbow. “See? Even Y/N thinks it’s funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” you admit, which only makes Charles beam with satisfaction.

Portia looks like she’s on the verge of a breakdown. “This is not funny. None of this is funny.”

“I think you need to relax,” Max says, as if that’s the simplest solution in the world. “It’s not like we committed a crime.”

“It might as well be,” Portia snaps. “Do you know what Ferrari is going to do with this? They’re probably drafting some moral code violation complaint as we speak.”

Charles waves a hand dismissively. “They can’t fire me. I bring too much to the table.”

Portia gives him a flat look. “Charles, you are the table.”

“Exactly.”

Max turns to you, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair. “Do you think we should put out a statement?”

You consider it for a moment, then shake your head. “Nah. Statements are boring.”

“Agreed,” Charles says, pulling his phone back out to scroll through more tweets. “No one likes statements.”

Portia exhales slowly, as if trying to summon every ounce of patience she has left. “Okay, so let me get this straight. Your solution to this PR nightmare is ... to do absolutely nothing?”

“Exactly,” Max says with a satisfied nod. “We just let it blow over.”

“Like Austria,” you add.

Portia stares at you, aghast. “Austria? You cannot compare this to a racing incident in Austria!”

Max looks thoughtful. “I don’t know. I think it’s kind of similar. People get mad for a while, then they forget.”

Charles grins mischievously. “By next week, someone else will do something stupid, and no one will care about this.”

Portia groans, dragging her hands down her face. “You are all ... impossible.”

Max reaches across the table to pat her shoulder. “You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”

“Max,” Portia says, her voice low and dangerous. “If this mess costs us a single sponsor — just one — I swear I will make your life a living hell.”

Max’s grin widens. “You already do.”

You burst out laughing at that, and even Portia can’t suppress a reluctant smile, though it’s clear she’s fighting it with every fiber of her being.

“This isn’t over,” she warns, but there’s no real bite in her voice.

“It never is,” Charles says breezily. “But that’s half the fun, no?”

You lean into Max’s side, content and completely unbothered, and he drapes an arm around your shoulders. Charles glances over at the two of you, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “See? We’re all good. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Portia shoots him a murderous glare. “Do not say that.”

Max laughs, the sound low and easy, and for a moment, it feels like the world outside the room doesn’t exist — no scandals, no cameras, no angry emails. Just the three of you, stuck in the strangest mess, but somehow, perfectly fine with it.

And, really, isn’t that all that matters?

***

A few weeks later, Portia is sitting at her desk, sipping her second coffee of the morning, when her inbox pings with a new email. She glances at the subject line, hoping it’s something routine — maybe a press update, or an invitation to a sponsor event.

Instead, her heart drops.

URGENT: New Video — Verstappen, Leclerc, and Y/L/N on Beach Vacation

She groans audibly, slamming her head down on the desk with a dramatic thud. They didn’t listen to her at all.

Opening the email, her stomach churns as she scrolls down to the attached link. The video loads instantly — there’s Max, Charles, and you, sun-kissed and carefree, lounging on beach chairs somewhere tropical. The sound of waves crashing in the background is almost soothing.

Almost.

And then, without warning, it escalates — hands everywhere, tangled limbs, kisses that start off playful but quickly turn into something else entirely. A bottle of rosé tips over in the sand as Max pulls you onto his lap, and Charles leans over, dragging his mouth along your shoulder with a grin.

Portia shakes her head in disbelief, muttering under her breath, “I’m going to kill them.”

Another ping. This time, a text from Max.

Saw the email. You’re gonna love the next one.

She screams into her coffee mug.

[totalswag]

Hii I have reques if you feel comfortable with it!

I read your drew fic with the arrest and I loved it!! I was wondering if reader was preforming bed chem outro instead of the back up singer it’s Drew and they get a little to carried away in front of the crowd. If That makes sense💕

bed chem ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for sending this request and it makes glad you liked my arrested for being too hot fic. my requests are still open and i'm gonna be working on the requests that are in my inbox right now from recent requests. also, you can picture singer!reader picture any way you want <3 i’m using sabrina carpenter as inspo for singer!reader.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary drew coming on stage at the very end of your song and you both get lost in the moment for a second in front of fans.

warning(s) mentions of intimate positions, kissing, touching.

Earlier in the show, you arrested Drew, your boyfriend, for being too hot— everyone in the arena went crazy seeing him. What they aren't expecting to Drew making a second appearance.

At the very end of bed chem one of your backup dancers will come into frame holding a camera on his shoulder, and when the curtain closes you pretend to do intimate things then the stage lights go off.

Prior to the show you asked Drew if he would be okay to go this— he agreed. Making sure he's comfortable was your first priority. He talked about different ways coming on stage that were so funny.

You start singing the final chorus of bed chem on your knees, legs wide out and free hand in front of you as you lean forward. The curtain signal is about to close. From the corner of your vision, you can see Drew approaching with the camera on his shoulder, dressed in dark pants and a white tank top—fans immediately began to cheer as he entered the frame.

He looked so good you couldn't control the redness of your cheeks spreading like a teenager seeing their crush.

To make the moment better, you sway your body around on the bed, allowing yourself to relax. Drew is looking at you with a smile on his face as he gets closer to the edge of the bed.

Motioning him to get closer— he lifts one leg on the bed as the curtain makes its way around the bed. Slowly setting down the camera on the edge of the bed.

You moved closer to Drew, pressing your bodies together in a false display of intimacy. Drew played along well, massaging your sides as he drew you closer. The crowd's cheers intensified, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch.

You leaned in and kissed Drew deeply, as the curtain began to close behind you. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, a staged performance for the spectators, but you found yourself becoming lost in it.

Drew's hands crept up to cradle your face, his touch soft yet forceful. You forgot about the crowd, the cameras, and everything. It was just you and Drew, completely lost in each other.

Your hands drag down his bare chest, and he leaps forward into you at the gentleness of your touch, sending lightning down your body. 

Once the lights turn off you both pull away from each other. Everything in your body right now is all over the place you think you are gonna explode. You are breathing heavily.

"You always know how to put on a show," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

You giggled softly, your fingertips tracing the contour of his jawline. "And you always know how to make it unforgettable."

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[emmyrosee]

head empty, only rin loving kisses and being waaaaaaay to proud (shy) to ask for them.

he would love nothing more than to be able to work up the courage to ask you to kiss him, he’s touch starved and needs constant attention, but he’d rather eat rat poison than ever confess it to you. you have the effect on him, you’ve torn down his walls and shown him all the praise and affection he is worth giving, and you’ve turned him into a sucker for kisses.

which is wonderful, since you’re so keen on giving them to him.

terrible when all he wants is a kiss and you don’t notice it.

he’s pacing back and forth in the next room, desperate, craving, needing a kiss or two on his forehead and one on his lips, in a line like you usually do. routine, is how he’d describe it, but deep down, he’ll take anything he can get. his big hands are carding through his hair, and god, he’s thrilled no one is able to see him like this.

“what’re you doing, baby?”

fuck.

except you.

he nearly leaps out of his skin as you make your way to him, and when he whips his head to face you, your brows a furrowed in concern and your arms are crossed over your chest. “you vanished,” you explain. “missed my snuggle buddy.”

“eugh,” he grumbles. “we’ve talked about the nicknames, haven’t we?” he scolds, and you merely chuckle.

“we have, i just choose to not listen to you.”

“and that’s exactly why you’re a pain in the neck.”

then, you shrug, “so im a pain, meanwhile you’re stuck in here waiting for me to come give you a kiss because you can’t ask for it?”

fuck.

he scoffs, but it’s shaky and unconvincing, “yeah right. as if id ever need something as juvenile as a kiss to lure me back. i just needed to stretch is all.”

“yeah, i’ll bet,” you snicker. then you spin on your heel, and rin feels his heart sink, “well, ill be on the couch. waiting for you.”

no, no, no, his chance is walking away from him, literally, disappearing down the hall and leaving him a yearning mess, pining for your affection that he’s just not sure how to ask for.

his head drops in disappointment, fists balling slightly, and he pouts softly like a child as he wracks his mind to try and work up the courage to go. he’s pathetic, can’t even ask for affection from his own partner, someone he sleeps next to at night and lets smear a green, cold face mask on him, someone he’s so in love with they turn him into a damn petulant child at the lack of attention, and-

“hey,” you whisper. he looks at you through his lashes, embarrassed.

you smile and toss your arms around his neck, rising up slightly to press a kiss to the apple of his cheek. his eyes blow open. then, you kiss his nose gently. his lips twitch. you plant your lips on the ticklish spot on his neck, and he jerks slightly. you giggle.

“oh, you’re so cute i can’t stand it,” you purr, kissing the other side of his cheek. “i just love loving you.” you press a kiss to his chin, and by now he’s smiling shyly, cheeks blazed in red from embarrassment and excitement for the attention he’s finally receiving. “i could just eat you up, you’re so cute.” you kiss the corner of his eye, which flutters shut in ease. “i can’t not kiss you, it’s against the law.”

finally, stiffly, his arms wrap around your waist, “who would you be to break the law?”

“i would never,” you hum, moving your hands to gently cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your gaze. his eyes practically have little hearts in them, and a wobbly smirk is on his lips. “you want some more?”

his eyes widen again. you shush him softly, thumbs stroking over the swells of his cheeks, “just nod or shake your head, my lovey boy.”

against his own determination of ‘not needing’ your attention, he finds himself nodding in your hands, butterflies in his stomach going crazy as you smile back and continue to press kisses over his face, voice dripping with honey with every adoring coo you offer him.