#but that's a tomorrow issue not a now issue while I should start getting ready for bed

[allisonreader]

It's been a busy past four days. From going out of town for my brother's graduation, to watching a streamed funeral for the last of my mom's aunts, to driving a family friend to a different city and back home today. Well, I guess technically that's been over the course of five days. It's still a lot. Especially when a lot of it is dealing with higher level emotions/draining of the social battery.

For my mom the funeral was hard, not even so much for the fact that it was her last aunt who died, but it struck her in particular about the emphasis that was put on how much she loved her grandkids and great grandchildren. When my brothers and I NEVER had that. My mom's mom died when she was only 21 due to breast cancer, so none of us knew her. Though my mom knows that she would have doted on us. Her dad and her had a strained relationship and had pretty much moved out of province as soon as my grandmother had died. Though all things considered, he was a pretty decent Grandpa. He always made sure each of us got a card on our birthday and a card at Christmas. We usually saw him at least once a year whether it was at Christmas, him visiting us in the summer or later us visiting him in the summer. Even if it took us two days to get to where he was.

My dad's parents were closer, only a five hour drive instead of a two day one, but they barely grandparented. Grandma in particular didn't have much to do with us and didn't like mom. Grandpa was a little better, as he was slightly more active and intent on being a grandparent, but let's just say crying didn't happen at either of their funerals by my brother's or I. How do you mourn for people you barely knew? Any from us was more for what could have been or those who were closer to him.

The most grandmotherly figure that I had and knew was my cousin's grandmother. She died at the beginning of COVID, right around Easter time. Her death was the hardest out of them all. Even just writing this has me teared up completely because she truly was the closest person we had to a grandmother. And because she died during the peak of lockdowns I never got to go to a funeral or memorial for her like I always expected to. She felt like just as much as family to me as any of my other grandparents, but in a way more than that too. As she was almost always around when we went over to my Aunt and Uncle's. We saw her at Easter, we'd see her at Christmas. We got to enjoy her baking. She was truly such a loving and caring woman who was a social butterfly.

While you're reading this, you can't really see how many times I've stopped to have a cry about my surrogate grandmother. Which has been a few and she's been the only one that I've actually cried for, and she's not even technically my grandmother, but she sure took the place of one.

The thing is, she takes such an important place in my heart without even ever having given me a direct gift. Just being around her and her love was enough of a gift (and her baking).

The one time, when I was already an adult, I had to drive my mom to the city that my Aunt, Uncle, and grandmother figure lived for medical reasons. During that trip, I along with my cousin and her cousin (who for the longest time I thought was my cousin as well, just because I always saw her at my actual cousin's place) were invited to their grandmother's place for lunch. That was the first time I truly understood what going to grandma's house could be like. It was such a revelation to me, because I had never had such an experience like that one before. I felt so loved with these three people I had known all my life as I was encouraged to eat more than I could fit. So different from what little I could remember of my own grandmother who had died years before and showed preferential treatment to other cousins.

I can remember both the last hug with my grandmother figure and my paternal grandma. Both were long, but grandma's was long and awkward (at least to me, I haven't a clue how she felt, but we both knew it was likely her last hug.) . While grandmother figure's was long, slightly to the point of awkward, but filled with such love and care, knowing that while it might not be the last hug, it definitely could be. And I think it probably was. But oh I still love her so much and miss her. Which is why writing all of this up about her is making me cry.

I'm far off the point that I originally intended, which is not directly related to my grandmother figure, but due to the fact that beyond her, my brothers and I really didn't have a big grandparent influence on us. All of our great grandparents were long dead by the time us kids came around and my mom always hurt for us kids for what we didn't have in the way of missing grandparents. But as I told her yesterday, we didn't know any different. To us, distant grandparents was all we knew, and my brothers knew that even more than me. And when you don't know what you're missing, then it can't bother you. I really only started to learn about how active some grandparents were in their grandkids lives after I was an adult and started working. That's when I started to really realize what I had missed out on and became slightly jealous over the fact that others had such loving and caring grandparents. Now I'm kind of past that, as I know what kind of grandparents my parents will be when I hopefully have babies. They'll be the kind that I never had, except through my cousin's grandmother.

[cowboyemeritus]

I Will Make You My Angel (Papa V Perpetua/Reader)

“So, you feel like causing problems tonight,” he asks, which, in the language of your play, translates roughly to, “Ready to suffer?”

You just roll your eyes again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bring it.”

tags: brat taming, slapping, spanking, use of a belt, aftercare, daddy kink for a split second... dw about it

Read on AO3

Notes: this started out as a stream of consciousness post i made like a week ago... how did we get here

First, you didn’t give him a good morning kiss. Strike One.

Then, you didn’t hold his hand in the van to the arena. Strike Two.

Now, you’re ignoring him. He’s just wobbled his ass off in front of thousands of people, and you’re fucking ignoring him.

Strike Three. You’re out.

It’s late by the time the after party wraps. It’s even later when you arrive back at the hotel. Perpetua’s nerves are shot, worn thin by the long day and all the challenges it has presented. Logistical issues, technical difficulties, misbehaving ghouls; the silent treatment is the very last thing he needs. He would have liked to have had you on his arm tonight, to show you off to the sleazy music execs that had come to kiss his ass, but you’d chosen to be selfish, setting yourself down in a corner and scrolling on your phone for hours, hardly paying him any mind.

Your Twitter feed better have been interesting.

He flops down on the bed, a groan wrenching itself out of him as the tension in his body is finally allowed an escape route. You don’t acknowledge him, checking your phone again before setting it down on the nightstand and shuffling over to the closet. With your back to him, you start undressing for bed, and his blood boils just a little hotter. If you won’t engage with him, he should at least be allowed to ogle you a bit.

He should also rest, prepare himself for the next ritual, but the itch has taken hold of him and won’t let go. His skin crawls, thinking about everything that’s gone wrong today and everything that will go wrong tomorrow. This new life of his, it’s more than he ever could have dreamed of, but it’s just so much, all the fucking time. And he doesn’t ask for a lot, just that you show up, be present, give him a little support when he needs it. You’re normally so, so good for him. He doesn’t understand why-

Every racing thought in his head comes screeching to a halt when you unzip your dress, a sexy leather thing that hugs your curves just right, and pull it down. Perpetua watches carefully, pulse quickening, as the action exposes the purple silk and black lace beneath. The set is new and, as he suspected, it fits perfectly, the bustier giving your tits the perfect amount of lift while the garters and stockings make you look like something out of a 50s centerfold. It’s old-fashioned refinement; the good shit. His cock throbs at the sight, and for a fleeting moment he’s able to take pride in his excellent taste. He knows what suits you, often better than you do. Then, that feeling is replaced by seething rage.

You have the gall, the audacity, to wear his colors after how you’ve acted today?

“What is that?” He asks, heartbeat thrumming in his ears. At long last, you notice him, turning your head in his direction.

“Um, my underwear?” There is disinterest, even a little judgement, in your gaze, like he’s some old pervert creeping on you at a bar. Anger pangs in his stomach, like hunger.

“Yeah,” Perpetua says, trying to sound casual. “Looks good on you.” No response. “I wonder where you could have come across such a thing.” At this, you give an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“I found it,” you state, the words barbed with sarcasm. His jaw tightens.

“How?” You blink at him, confused.

“What do you mean, how? I just-”

“Found it,” he questions, “with your eyes glued to your fucking phone all day?” Now you turn your body towards him, revealing more of the getup. Perpetua wants nothing more than tear it off and have you now, but there’s something to be said about taking his time, about making you really earn the punishment he so desperately needs to dole out.

“What are you, my dad?” You scoff, turning your attention back to your dress, putting it on a hanger and racking it next to a neat row of his shirts. “I don’t know why you’re being such a dick. The show didn’t go that bad.”

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s up, stomping over to where you’re standing. He grips you hard by the shoulder, spinning you face him.

“So, you feel like causing problems tonight,” he asks, which, in the language of your play, translates roughly to, “Ready to suffer?”

You just roll your eyes again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bring it.”

In an instant, his gloved palm is connecting with your cheek. It’s hard, but not enough to leave a mark. Still, your head jerks violently to the side as he completes the stroke, the clap echoing off the walls. A heavy silence falls over the room, and it’s only then that he considers what this might sound like to a concerned neighbor. He doesn’t have time to dwell on that, though. You hang your head for a beat, take a few, steadying breaths, and then look back up at him. Your pupils are blown wide, and the way you’re pressing your lips together tells him you’re fighting back a grin.

This, of course, had been your plan all along: to get him riled up and then let him blow off the steam. You’re far too smart for your own good. You know him too well, can read his moods too easily, and like a little pixie, you use this talent to make mischief when he most desperately needs a distraction.

“That fucking hurt.”

He’d be lost without you.

“It did?” Still in a vice grip, he marches you across the room, throwing you down on the mattress. Delight curls in his gut at the sound you make, the breath knocked out of your lungs. “On your knees. I’ll show you hurt.” You remain motionless, glaring back at him. “Come on.” He grabs you by the hips, manhandling you into the desired position. His mouth waters as he takes in the sight of you, decked out in his colors, your ass in the air like it’s a prize and your face in the sheets to shut you up. “It’s late. You think I want to be doing this at two in the fucking morning?” You shake your head sheepishly. “Yeah, of course not. But if I don’t deal with you, who will?” He peels off his gloves and then reaches for his belt buckle, noting how your thighs press together. “Who will do a fucking thing if I’m not around?”

You smirk. “Heavy is the head that wears the mitre, huh?” As he’s pulling the band of leather through the loops, you let out a little laugh. “You know, you could always switch with Copia if you don’t think you can handle-”

The belt cracks against the back of your thigh. You jolt, crying out, and it’s as much an exclamation of pain as it is a moan. Perpetua looks between his hand, knuckles blanched around the leather, and where he’s just struck you. The skin is already welting up in a fat, pink streak, a few tiny, red dots blooming over broken capillaries. It’s such a captivating image that, for a split second, he forgets he’s supposed to be angry. Then you shift uncomfortably, giving him an expectant look, and he has to fight to come back to himself.

“Don’t-” He so badly wants to kiss that bruising flesh, to soothe the wound with his tongue. It takes a long, deep breath to steel him. “Dirty your mouth with his name again, and I’ll make you wash it out with soap.” He teases the folded end of the belt up your other thigh, brushing over your core, and you shiver. Princes of Hell, you’re already soaked through. “Got that, follettina?”

“Yes, Papa.” Perpetua scoffs.

“Now you feel like showing me some respect.” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and encountering the warm metal of the mask. With his free hand, Perpetua reaches for the clasp at the top of his head, then, seeing you watching, decides against it. He glowers at you as his hand instead finds his scarf, pulling it loose, before undoing the top few buttons of his shirt. Beneath the layers of fabric, his skin is overly warm, bordering on sweaty.

“We go until I say we’re done,” he states, bringing the belt back to your buttocks. “You can still keep count if you’d like.” At this, you swallow hard, shuddering, and it fills him with a perverse sense of pleasure, heat flaring at the very base of him. He knows you’re just the tiniest bit afraid; in moments like this, it’s hard not to be, even when there’s desire in it. What he loves about you, though, is that you trust him, letting him guide you through the fear to the pleasure at its conclusion. That you’re willing to put your body and safety in his hands is an intoxicating feeling, and swept up in it, Perpetua finds that he’s done holding back.

He brings the belt down on your ass. You bury your face in the mattress to stifle a moan. He does it again, and this time it’s a scream. He strikes you one more time before the itch takes over and he no longer cares to keep track. Then, its blow after blow, the sound ricocheting off the walls like gunfire. His treatment is imprecise, uneven, striking wherever meets his fancy, until your ass and the backs of your thighs are red and criss-crossed with welts. You take each hit like a champion, hardly moving save for the arching of your back and an occasional buck of your hips.

He’s listening closely for it the whole time: miserere, the hard stop. You’ve never tapped out before, but maybe this is it. Maybe this time he’ll overdo it. The worry is always there, lingering in the back of his mind despite your assurances. But you’re resilient, far more so than he, and even when your yelps and moans turn to sobs, you don’t bend. You never do. You take it all, his rage, his pain, and you swallow it. You transform it into focus, productivity. Even now, his head already feels clearer.

You’re a martyr. Perpetua ought to have you canonized.

“That’s enough.” His chest is heaving, sweat beading under the mask. He’s so hard it hurts, every nerve alight with pleasure. It feels like he’s vibrating. It’s exhilarating.

You flop onto your side with a groan. You’re panting, sniffling, twitching a little, but there’s a blissed out look on your face, a grin spread wide across it. Tears stream down your cheeks, taking your makeup with them.

“Papa…” It’s all you can manage before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Oh, he’s gotten you good. You reach blindly for him, and in spite of the scene his heart skips a beat.

“I’m right here,” he coos, taking your hand and planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. It flops back down when he lets go. Shakily, you bring the appendage closer to your face, cracking an eye open to examine it. There’s a smear of his black lipstick on your skin, and with a pleased little hum, you press your lips to the mark.

If he had a soul, surely it would leave his body.

“Oh, my love, look at you.” You’re utterly ruined. Unable to resist, he palms at himself through his pants. This does not go unnoticed, and you let out a needy whine. Perpetua snickers. “Yeah? You’re not done yet? You need me to fuck you, too?” A hungry look in your eyes, you nod. At this, he clicks his tongue, though he’s already reaching to undo the laces restraining him. “After all you’ve done today, you think you deserve that?” Your eyes go wide, then well up with fresh tears, and he feels his cock kick as he works to free it.

“Please,” you whimper, suddenly coherent again. “I’ll be so good tomorrow.”

Perpetua imagines you’ll spend most of the day recouping on the bus. There’s not much trouble you can really get into there, unless you rope the ghouls into your schemes. Lucifer save him if you do.

He lets out an embellished sigh. “How is it that you can be such a little shit, and yet I still let you walk all over me?” At last his cock springs free, flushed an angry red and pulsing with the beating of his heart. “You’re spoiled.” He gives himself a few slow, teasing strokes, making a show of pulling back the skin to reveal the head, already slick with precum. “Absolutely rotten.”

The despair on your face quickly transforms into a smug, satisfied grin. You giggle, batting your eyes coquettishly. “I know.” Perpetua just grunts, planting his free hand on your hip and shoving you onto your stomach. He makes quick work of unclipping the garters, then hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs them down. You shimmy a little, assisting him in the endeavor. Letting go of his cock, he drapes himself over your prone form, planting his knees on either side of your body, and you hiss a little as the coarse fabric of his pants rubs against your skin. One hand threads into your hair, pulling your head up off the mattress, while he holds the other to your lips.

“Spit,” he commands. “It’s all you’re getting.” With perfect obedience, you probe around in your cheek with your tongue, gathering as much saliva as possible, before letting it dribble out into his palm. Perpetua takes his shaft in hand again, slicking himself up with a few lazy strokes, then adjusts his position so that he can drag the tip through your folds.

“Baby,” you whine. You try to spread your legs enticingly, but you’re trapped under the weight of him, pinned to the bed like a butterfly. “Plea-” Perpetua cuts you off, burying himself to the hilt with a single, punishing drive of his hips. The sound that comes out of you cannot possibly be human, halfway between a moan and the yowl of a cat in heat. Still, he gives you no quarter, no time to adjust, before he begins jackhammering into you, chasing his pleasure with reckless abandon.

“I’ll fuck you, alright.” He tugs on your hair and groans, feeling your cunt ripple. Somehow, even after all this time, he’s still never quite prepared for the way you two fit so perfectly, like puzzle pieces clicking together. “But don’t think for a second that I’m letting you finish like this.” You let out a delicious sob, your entire body convulsing beneath him. Even through his clothes, he can feel the heat radiating from your mortified flesh, and the mental image of what your backside will look like in the morning is like a punch in the stomach. Pace faltering, he comes to the jarring realization that he’s not going to last very long. You must be able to sense it as well, because you press your ass into him with each thrust, trying to meet him halfway.

“God, you fucking-” He groans, gut twisting as you clench around him. “You little fucking whore, always causing problems.” The day’s events rearing their ugly head again, Perpetua feels his temper flare. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he takes a deep breath, the sweet scent of your hair grounding him. “I missed you tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” you pant. “I’m so-” A particularly brutal thrust has the head of his cock punching into your cervix. You gasp beneath him, fists balling in the sheets.

“You should always be by my side. Always.” There’s never a moment when he doesn’t want you near. It’s maddening at times, how badly he craves you. “You looked so fucking good tonight. I wanted to take you right there, in front of all those fucking imbeciles, but you kept yourself from me.” He’s rambling, as he tends to do when his end is closing in. “How dare you. How fucking dare-” Suddenly, he’s tumbling over the edge. Hips jerking, his vision goes white, the ecstasy searing down his spine as he spills into you. It’s like every negative feeling he’s had over the last twenty-four hours is purged at once, leaving blissful nothingness in its wake.

He really, really needed this.

When the world comes back into view, Perpetua heaves a sigh. The fatigue in his bones is making its presence known again, a heaviness washing over him as the last traces of his climax ebb away. Feeling wobbly, he disengages carefully, rolling onto his back so that he doesn’t collapse on top of you. He lays like that for a moment, eyes shut, hands folded over his stomach. Fuck, what a night. What a day. What a week. What a life. He knows he needs to get up, drag himself to the bathroom and get the ointment for your ass. He needs to wash off his paints and the sweat that’s accumulated under the mask before he breaks out, but he’s so fucking exhausted, and sleep is already wrapping it’s velvety tendrils around his consciousness, pulling him down, down, down…

Your lips ghost against his hairline, and then the tip of his nose. Perpetua cracks his green eye open and finds you hovering over him, smiling gently as you brush a few locks of his hair away. He’s just beaten your backside black and blue, but there’s nothing in your gaze but adoration. Your eyes are still puffy from crying, your makeup smudged and running down your face, and he swears you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Feel better?”

What you’re still doing with a nasty, selfish old thing like him, he’ll never know. In the beat silence that hangs between you, he thanks the Old One, any power that feels like listening, that you’re here.

“I do,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow to press his lips to yours. It’s the first time he’s properly kissed you all day and it hits him like a drug, a newfound energy coursing through his veins. “Thank you.” You chuckle softly, leaning in for another kiss. Your hands find the clasps at his temples, and under your experienced fingers they click open easily. When you pull the mask away, placing it gently to the side, it’s like a weight has been lifted off Perpetua’s shoulders. With you, he doesn’t have to perform, to be Papa. Himself is enough.

“Of course.” Another quick peck on his cheek. “Now, let’s get you to bed.” You start to get up but he quickly stops you, one hand finding the back of your head and pulling you in again. He nips at your bottom lip once, twice, before he’s licking into your mouth with a pleased little hum. You groan, squirming next to him on the bed, and when he ultimately pulls away, there’s a thread of saliva connecting you.

“Not just yet,” he purrs. You swallow, eyes darting over to the clock on the nightstand, then back to him.

“It’s late, babe. You don’t have to-”

“What kind of man would I be if I left you needing like this?” He barks out a laugh. “If the Clergy found out, I’d be excommunicated.” Perpetua sits up, putting a hand on your shoulder and guiding you to lay on your back. Then he slinks down to the ground, kneeling on the carpet as he grabs your hips and pulls you a little closer. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Satan below, your cunt is a sight to behold, all slick and pink and throbbing just for him. His arousal echoes distantly at the sight, and for a moment, he laments the limitations that come with his age. A rivulet of his spend is already leaking out you, and the animal part of his brain screams that this is unacceptable. If he were a younger man, he could easily fuck another load into you, but those days are long gone. Time has given him experience, though, and he has other ways of keeping you full.

With his hands on your knees, he parts your legs a bit wider. Finally, he touches the tip of his tongue to your clit, giving it an experimental, little kitten lick. Your entire body tenses, like you’ve been shocked, and it sends a thrill through him.

“Oh! That’s…” He doesn’t give you time to finish the thought, sealing his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking. Your hands fly to his head, fingers twisting in his hair as your hips buck up into his mouth. “Fuck, that’s good. Fuck, baby.” He doesn’t need the encouragement; the taste of you — both of you —  has him hooked already. Perpetua draws a few circles around your clit before he descends, prodding at your opening to coax out more of his seed. With his tongue he scoops up the mess, and when his eyes flick up, he finds you fixated on him, your lower lip caught between your teeth. Grinning, he opens his mouth, letting you see the evidence of his climax, and you shudder. Then, he works the appendage inside you, fucking his cum back where it belongs. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit while he does this, and the noise you make will surely result in a complaint, but he couldn’t care less. Anyone who takes issue with this can eat shit and die.

Eventually, he replaces his tongue with a finger. Your body accepts it greedily, pulling him in like you’re trying to become one mass, and so he gives you another. He crooks the digits just right, delighting in the way you sing for him, heady and full of want. You’re fluttering already, the cocktail of pain and pleasure helping you along nicely. A lock of his hair falls into his face, and before he has the chance, you brush it away for him. Perpetua’s heart swells. It’s a simple gesture, but the gentleness of your touch stands in such stark contrast to the earlier violence, it makes his head spin.

“You perfect thing, taking it so well. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” You hum an affirmative that quickly turns into a moan. He plants a sloppy kiss on the inside of your leg, leaving a smear of cum, spit, and paint behind. “My darling girl. Sei la cocca di papà, vero? Say that you are.” For all the needless bullshit the Clergy has put him through, he will be forever grateful to them for making him learn Italian. It’s become his secret weapon, a surefire way to have your toes curling in a matter of syllables. As expected, your back arches off the bed, thighs squeezing around him.

“I’m yours,” you gasp. “I’m your girl.” He rewards you by attaching his mouth to your clit once again, suckling and teasing it with his tongue while he attacks your sweet spot with his fingers. Your manicured nails dig into his scalp a little harder, battered legs quivering. “Oh, fuck. Fuck me, fuck-” With a breathy cry you come undone, thrashing wildly against Perpetua’s face. He works you through it, unrelenting until you tug on his hair, whining. One last kiss on the softest part of your thigh and he pulls away, his knees protesting as he gets up off the floor. Your chest is heaving, beads of sweat sparkling on your flushed skin, and Perpetua suddenly wants to take back his earlier declaration. The sight of you like this, a beautiful, fucked-out mess, should be for his eyes alone. Not even the Devil, he thinks, is worthy of such a privilege.

Your tired eyes flutter open once your breathing finally evens out. Catching his gaze, you smile, eclipsing the sun in your radiance. You start to sit up, but Perpetua is quick to push you back down.

“Stay here,” he requests. “I’ll be right back.” You nod, flipping onto your stomach while he tucks himself back into his pants. Then, he shuffles to the bathroom and gathers the necessary equipment: a wet washcloth, a glass of water, your makeup wipes, and the healing ointment. When he returns you’re naked and half asleep already, the rest of your undergarments strewn about on the bed. The bruising on your backside is beginning to set in, decorating your flesh with splotches of deep blue and purple. He stares at it for a few moments, face pulled into a grimace. Maybe he did take it too far.

“‘M just fine,” you mumble, reading his mind. “Really.” Snapping out of it, he makes tending to you the focus of his remaining energy, lest he spiral further. He hands you the glass and you accept eagerly, draining it in one long, slow sip. Then you take the wipes, attacking what remains of your makeup while he gets to work on your lower half. With the washcloth he cleans the mess of his release, paints, and your slick from the inside of your thighs. He’s overly careful, as if you’re made of glass, reluctant to inflict any more pain now that the scene is over. When that’s done he takes the tube of ointment and squeezes a generous amount onto the tip of his index finger, the herbal scent of it filling the air. You start a little with the first touch, but quickly relax as we works the balm into your skin, sighing with relief as it takes effect.

By the time Perpetua is finished, you’re asleep. He’s about ready to collapse next to you but forces himself up, dragging his feet back to the bathroom. He does a half-assed job of removing his paints, his eyes still rimmed with black as he strips off the rest of his clothes. Both of you (him especially) reek of sweat and sex, but a shower can wait until the morning. You have to hit the road early, but he’ll be a diva and make the whole crew wait if he has to. He has his priorities.

You grumble a little when he moves you to the head of the bed and tucks you under the covers, but otherwise don’t stir. After hanging up his shirt and jacket he flicks off the light, stumbling in the dark to join you. He’s finally able to indulge in the closeness he’s wanted all day, pulling you into his arms. The weight of you on his chest is a comfort after the long day you’ve both had, and soon, he’s slipping into the realm of sleep as well.

Without a doubt, tomorrow will have its own set of challenges, new problems for him to deal with. For now, though, he’s content, knowing that whatever comes his way, you’ll have his back. You always do.

[ink-stainedkiss]

My Treasure

Pairing: Dragon King!Kirishima x Queen!Reader

Synopsis: You start to miss your husband while he’s away.

Genre: Fantasy au, aged up, established marriage, extreme fluff, kiri is very happy to see his wife(he’s obsessed)

Word Count: 1.2k

The length of this trip was becoming dreadful. You are normally fine taking care of the castle while your husband is away, but you have grown to miss his presence. In your eyes, there wasn’t any sort of life through the entire structure. You would always wake up to soft purrs created by your beloved, but for now you only had the silent glow of the sun to awaken you. Meal times weren’t as bad, but the lack of painfully embarrassing jokes and joyous laughter beside you was more evident than you would like.

The whole kingdom has noticed your downcasted expression and tried their best to distract you from your husband’s departure. Day in and day out, something new was brought to your attention that made you miss your Eijirou more. Like how at night, the air seemed to be more chilly than before. Though it was never an issue since Eijirou was a pure Ember Heart Dragon and his body temperature was enough to keep you warm even in the dead of winter. That couldn’t apply to the comforters you would mangle in the night to try and capture some sort of heat.

The day he left, he promised he would get back quickly, but you, being the ever independent woman, responded,”You don’t have to rush on my behalf.” At the time, it was true, but now you were regretting your words more than ever. It didn’t help that your husband was pouting and giving you the saddest puppy eyes,”You should just come with us.” You declined, since it was matters that only involved him, but now you wish you would have just accepted his offer.

You truly couldn’t be upset, you knew about his duties a week in advance so you didn’t have a reason to blame him. This was all a part of being the King of Ignatius. As the Queen, of course you had work to do as well, just not as much as him. In the early morning, you worked on writing letters about the Blue Moon Festival and how you could conjoin the other cities across the land to create a stronger connection. After that, you walked to the dungeons to help Mina, the castle's healer, with any work she needed to finish. There were only a few people sleeping on her beds, each of them already patched up, and you knew that you weren’t needed.

Thankfully, Mina is a sweetheart and lets you do small tasks. Like making ready-to-go potions that just needed a liquid to activate and organizing her shelves. If Mina didn’t have any patients, she would take you out for walks, plucking beautiful flowers from the garden and weaving little dandelion crowns. It was nice to know she cared enough to do something so small, but it didn’t help with the emptiness that loomed over you.

“It’s terrible knowing he’s free to roam wherever and whenever with those giant wings,” You complained,”I’m almost jealous.” A quiet giggle sounded from Mina, who had been listening closely to you,” I’m sure he’s missing you as well.”

You could only furrow your brow in sternness,”How can you be so sure?” Mina gave you an amused look,”I remember having to calm the King down because you were a few minutes late to dinner one night. I think if we would have waited a second longer, the entire estate would have been destroyed in his attempts to find you. He was so worried.” Happiness floods your senses and you join her laughter at the image.

Mina was always a great help when it came to these things. Though you couldn’t spend each day with her since she had her own responsibilities to take care of. It had been an entire week since you last saw your husband and tomorrow he was supposed to return. That night you tossed and turned, your excitement keeping you up.

❦

Sadly, you had spent the entire day waiting for Eijirou to get back, only to be left watching an empty sky. The sun was already falling and you couldn’t help but feel saddened at the fact you hadn’t seen your husband the entire day. He said he would arrive sometime near the afternoon, but it seemed his work was pushing past time. You combed out your hair, facing your large crystal and your small frown was very evident in your reflection. The shower you took was refreshing, but it seemed way too quiet in your shared room. You set down your brush, now just staring at your own frame with no certain thoughts. You should just go to bed, it would be a waste to wait on him, especially so late. You wrapped the silk robe around your clean body and walked out of your bathroom.

Just as you were about to turn in for the night, a loud roar shook the castle. Your heart leapt at the recognizable sound. Without a second's notice, you bolted out of your room, dodging the servants who were amused at your pace. Shoving the front doors open, you darted to the lawn, staring up at the ruby dragon soaring closer and closer. Relief washed over you in an instant. Eijirou was home. Your smile beamed as he flew down, landing before you. Sometimes you forget how huge Eijirou was in his dragon form.

Eijirou nuzzled his nose into your chest, knocking some of the air out of you, but you didn’t mind. Your hands caressed his smooth scales, pressing tiny kisses to his skin since you just couldn’t wait. When he backed away, you frowned slightly at the loss of contact, but then he was clouded by a haze of red. When the most blew away, your husband stood happily, his arms wide open. Before you could think, your feet were running and jumping into the arms of the man before you,”Looks like someone missed me.” He chuckled lovingly, wrapping his arms around your waist, along with his large wings, acting like a heated blanket.

“Of course I did, Eijirou.” You mumbled against the crook of his neck. Taking in every drop of warmth you could, you felt him reciprocate your need for affection and his hold on you tightened. You felt him pull away, but just as you were about to complain, Eijirou’s lips are connecting with yours, setting your body a flame.

Your hands rested on the side of his face and you caressed the apple of his cheek with your thumb caringly. When you pulled away, Eijirou gasped softly, his eyes turning into worry as he wiped away a stray tear from your face,”Are you alright?” You could only laugh out of pure happiness. These droplets that rolled down your cheeks were full of nothing but joy,”Of course I am,” You yanked him back to your lips. Inhaling deeply, the scent of smoke and cinnamon hit you. It was a comforting smell, one you had grown used to and didn’t realize you missed. Eijirou broke the kiss, only to catch his breath and press his forehead against yours.

He hadn’t even stepped foot into his home, but it didn’t matter. As long as he had you, everything else could wait. You opened your eyes, staring into his beautiful scarlet ones,”Promise me you’ll never be away for that long again,” His sharp toothed smile pushed past his mouth and he decorated your face in small kisses as he spoke,”I promise, My love.”

[thewritingrowlet]

The Vacation Trip, ft. tripleS Xinyu, Nakyoung

tags: creampie, anal, anal creampie, daddy kink, rough

length: almost 8k

author's note: I'm a Seoyeon bias, bro, how did I end up writing so much of others? Anyway, this is the continuation of The Outing Trip. I decided to write a "sequel" that takes place after the events of The Outing Trip because I'm not ready to end it just yet.

p.s. I will be writing the follow-up to The Loving Wife soon; please look forward to it.

“Baby, we need to sleep soon; we’re leaving early in the morning”, you say to Xinyu, who presses you against the wall as soon as you enter the apartment. “I trust you to wake us up”, Xinyu says before pressing her lips on yours. Xinyu sleeps very well after having sex but struggles to wake up in the morning after, so the fact that she wants to have sex tonight is concerning; you need to pick up Nakyoung before 6 am tomorrow morning and head to the bus station after. “Huh? Kim Nakyoung?”, the voice in your head asks. Yes, Nakyoung, your official side girl who’s been an extra by your side ever since you got back from the outing trip―Xinyu approves of this, just so we’re clear.

“Oppa, you’re not cooperating”, Xinyu complains, “give me your tongue”. You comply to Xinyu’s demand and stick your tongue in her mouth. Xinyu fights your tongue with hers, occasionally letting you win. You shake off other thoughts and decide to play along. You clamp your lips on her tongue and squeeze, surprising Xinyu, who lets out a moan as a response. Xinyu finally breaks the tangle to catch her breath. “Oppa, what the fuck was that?”, Xinyu breathes heavily, “that was so fucking hot”.

You carry her in your arms and take her to the bedroom. “If you can’t wake up on time tomorrow morning, I’m locking you in the apartment”, you threaten her. Xinyu scoffs, “oh, please, you don’t know who I am and what I’m capable of”. Well, you know who Xinyu is and what she’s capable of, which is sleeping in and then waking up at the last minute—you’ll be making her pack a backpack after this so that neither of you will have to worry about it tomorrow should she wake up late. “Sure, baby, whatever you say”, you lift your T-shirt over your head, “are we doing this, or no?”.

Xinyu tells you to get naked entirely before she takes off her clothes. “Oppa, look at me, please”, Xinyu steps away from you while making sure you’re looking at her body. As soon as she unbuttons her shirt, you see the white lace bra she has on, and your hand automatically moves towards your erect cock. Xinyu giggles at you, “you haven’t even seen the whole thing yet, oppa”. “You need to be quick, baby; I can’t fucking wait any more”, you say, your hand busy stroking your cock. You can tell that Xinyu also can’t wait to start the action, but her slender fingers struggle to unbutton her jeans. “Fuck, this is embarrassing”, Xinyu pouts, “oppa, help”. You chuckle as you move to help her, “next time just don’t bother buttoning your pants, hm?”.

Now that Xinyu’s free of her restraining jeans, you can see the matching panties that have a wet spot on them. “Aww, you’re wet”, you touch her over the panties, “on a scale of one to ten, how horny are you, babe?”. Xinyu throws her head back, enjoying the warmup, “a-ah—fi-fifteen”. You pull Xinyu into your lap, your cock hovering above her stomach. You’re aware of how long you are, but the image of touching her cervix with the tip of your cock still gets you every time. “If one day we decide to have kids, oppa, you’ll have no trouble getting me pregnant”, Xinyu says, “now fuck me, please”.

You move Xinyu to the middle of the bed and put her legs on your shoulders—one issue, though: her knees and thighs are closed. “Is something wrong, cutie?”, you ask. Xinyu lifts her butt off the bed and spreads her legs, “you see that, oppa?”. You look down and see a shiny round thing between her cheeks, “is that a plug? Where did you get that?”. “I borrowed it from Nakyoung-ie”, Xinyu says, “I’ve been training my ass so that I can give you my cherry since you weren’t my first”. You’ve never asked Xinyu to train her ass, and you’ve told her that you don’t mind not being her first, so you’re not sure why she has decided to do all this. “Where did this come from, hon? Who talked you into this?”, you interrogate her. Xinyu holds your hands, “Nakyoung-ie looked like she was on cloud nine when you fucked her ass, so I’m curious. Would you fuck me in the ass as well, oppa? You’ll be the first and last person to do so”. You take a deep breath, “sure, if you really want to—but remember this: if I see that you’re in pain, I’m pulling out”.

Xinyu agrees to your terms and shows you her wet entrance, “first things first, oppa”. You guide your cock into her pussy, and Xinyu instantly lets out a soft, whiny moan. “Ah, daddy”, she says softly, “always so good, daddy—fuck”. Making Xinyu scream when in bed is nice and all, but having Xinyu speak and moan softly during sex makes you feel full of love. “Baby, fuck”, you let out a low moan, “I love you so much”. Xinyu pulls you towards her, “I love you too, oppa. You’re always so kind to me”. You chuckle slightly, “I can say the same about you, baby”. Xinyu smiles and pulls you into a kiss, breaking it every odd second to let out moans.

You start moving your hips faster, and Xinyu guides your head towards her neck. “Mark me, oppa; I want to show off to Nakyoung-ie tomorrow”, she says, tilting her head slightly to show you the desired area. You wordlessly grant her request, latching your lips on Xinyu’s neck and start planting hickeys. You notice that Xinyu is starting to breathe faster, and you’d like to think that what you’re doing is satisfactory. “Oppa, I love you so much”, Xinyu says, her chest rising and coming back down repeatedly, “mark me, oppa; make people know that I belong to you”. You’re trying your best to multitask, as you can’t let the tempo of your pumps go down while you’re busy marking Xinyu.

It is when Xinyu announces that she’s close that you stop being a neck painter and straighten your posture. “Let’s cum together, baby”, you say to her. You fold Xinyu in half, pressing her legs against her torso, and turn up the pace. You see her lewd aroused face in between her knees: her mouth is wide open, and her tongue is sticking out, as if trying to lick something. You bring a thumb towards her tongue, and Xinyu starts licking it as if it was your cock.

“Fuck, I’m about to bust”, you murmur. Xinyu retreats from your mouth and lets out a scream. Unlike the resort, your bedroom is soundproofed quite well, so Xinyu can scream until her voice disappears if she wants to. The two of you reach your peak at the same time; you send your load deep into Xinyu, while her entire body shakes violently. “You’re always so good, love”, you praise her as you straighten her legs, “I love you so much”. Xinyu doesn’t say anything back as she’s still busy squirming around, basking in her high. “I-I love you too, oppa”, Xinyu weakly rolls onto her stomach, “I’m out of energy, fuck—let’s save the ass-taking for next time, oppa”.

-

You wake up before your alarm has the chance to ring. When you look to your left, you see that Xinyu is still sleeping rather peacefully. “Love you, babe”, you whisper to her before pecking her exposed forehead. After collecting your consciousness and strength, you get off the bed and walk out of the bedroom.

You can tell by the phone light that someone is lying on the sofa. Whoever is lying on the sofa hears you, “oh, you’re awake—good morning, oppa”. You let out a sigh of relief, “oh, it’s you. What are you doing here this early, Nakyoung-ah?”. Nakyoung walks up to you and pecks you on the lips, “just wanted to make sure you don’t leave without me”. You return the favor and peck her on the lips, “can I entertain you with something?”. Nakyoung points at your morning wood, “can I help you with that, oppa?”. Since Nakyoung is your official side chick, you don’t feel like you’re betraying Xinyu the same way you did with Dahyun. “Yeah, sure”, you take Nakyoung’s hand and walk towards the sofa with her.

Before sitting down, you pull your shorts and boxers down to give Nakyoung access to your erect cock. Nakyoung ties her hair in a bun, thus indirectly showing off her perky tits to you, before getting on her knees. “Thanks for the meal”, Nakyoung licks her lips before taking you in her mouth. “Don’t go too hard; this is still very early”, you say to her. Since her mouth is full, Nakyoung can only hum in response.

Nakyoung starts going down on your shaft, taking her time to make sure she doesn’t choke on it. You stroke the side of her head gently, “you’re such a good girl, sweetie”. Nakyoung has expressed her desire to be called by pet names, but she tends to get overexcited when she hears it. “There’s no need to rush, sweetie; we have time”, you remind her, just in time to stifle her excitement.

“Oppa, cum soon, please. I’m getting tired”, Nakyoung says, snapping you out of your blissful reverie. “I’m pretty close, sweetie”, as soon as you say that, you hear the bedroom door swing open; Xinyu has managed to wake up without help. “Good morning, baby”, you greet the partially awake zombie. Xinyu slowly walks towards the sofa and rests her head on your thigh, not bothering with questioning anything. So here you are: your girlfriend is sleeping on your thigh and her best friend is kneeling in front of you with your cock in her mouth.

In order to get out of this, uh, predicament, you first ask Nakyoung to stop sucking you. You then move Xinyu so that she lies flat on the sofa—earning a grunt of annoyance from her—and puts your shorts and boxers back on. Lastly, you return Xinyu to her previous position and have her put her head on your thigh. Since the sofa doesn’t allow for two people to lie on it at the same time, Nakyoung resorts to resting her head against your other leg. “Girls, we have to leave soon”, you hate to break it to them, but it’s true; the bus will leave at 6:45 and you must be there before 6:15 tops. “Tell that to your sleepy girlfriend. I’m already wide awake”, Nakyoung defends herself.

You guess that Xinyu needs help getting ready, so you get up from the sofa and carry her to the bathroom for a shower. You make her sit on the toilet and kneel in front of her. “Babe, wake up, please”, you say in a calm tone. To your surprise, Xinyu opens her eyes right away; “I am fully awake, oppa. I just wanted to make sure you’d take care of me”. Xinyu straightens her posture and asks you to help her undress. You unbutton her pajama from the top, “oh, I almost forgot—I love you, baby”. While Xinyu is looking away to hide her blush, you continue unbuttoning her top until you can free her from it. “Fuck, you’re so hot, babe”, you comment, “shame that we don’t have that much time; we could’ve had some fun”. “My heart will explode if you keep saying these sweet things, oppa”, Xinyu pulls down her pants, thus getting fully naked and ready for shower.

You join her in the shower after getting naked, and that is when Xinyu starts teasing you. She keeps touching your cock every now and then and pretends to apologize for “accidentally” touching you. “Babe, I was serious when I said that we don’t have much time. I promise I will entertain all your antics once we get to the resort”, you remind her. Xinyu leans forward and nibbles the side of your neck, “I can tell you’re horny, oppa”. Well, there’s nowhere to hide now, “yeah, I am pretty damn horny right now—I mean, shit, look at you; you’re so hot”.

-

“Remind me where we’re going?”, Nakyoung asks as the three of you walk to find your bus. “The resort where we had our outing trip at”, you see the bus a few meters in front of you, “that’s ours, let’s go”. You approach the bus crew and show him the QR code on your phone. “I know this name”, he says, looking back and forth between you and your name, “you’re from that university, aren’t you?”. You show him a chill face, “that’s true, mister. Now we’re going back there for vacation”. He turns his attention and glances at Xinyu and Nakyoung, “well, it looks like you’re going to have a lot of fun”. “Well, that’s the plan—thanks!”, you say.

You get on the bus after the guy scans your QR code. You tell the girls to sit next to each other and “sacrifice” yourself to sit behind them—most likely with a stranger—since it’ll be safer this way, and obviously they agree. Not long after sitting down, you see more and more people start filling the empty seats behind you. Even after the bus driver has gotten in his seat and started the engine, the seat next to you remains empty. “I guess no one is traveling alone”, you think to yourself. As soon as the bus starts rolling, Xinyu hands you a picture of you and her, “so you don’t forget about me”. You want to laugh but a part of you thinks that this gesture has a deeper meaning, so you simply take the picture and thank her.

-

The bus has gotten on the ferry, which means passengers can get off, just like last time. When you check on the girls, you see that Nakyoung is sleeping and leaning against the window, while Xinyu is listening to music on her headphones. When Xinyu sees you, you gesture to her to follow you off the bus.

You walk with her to the top deck to stretch your legs and get some air. “I have a feeling you want to talk about something”, Xinyu says. “That is true”, you say, so Xinyu moves to lean on the railings next to you. “This love triangle happened with your consent, but I want to ask how you’re feeling about us right now”, you start. Xinyu gazes at the blue sea in front of her as she forms her answer. “Honestly, I feel like you’re starting to forget me, oppa”, Xinyu answers, “this morning wasn’t the first time Nakyoung-ie touched you before me, was it? I guess the whole point is that I’m starting to get jealous”. You subconsciously rub your cheek, as if feeling the pain from Xinyu’s slap from that time. “I’m sorry, love; it was never my intention to put Nakyoung-ie before you” are all you can come up with. “I know”, Xinyu sighs deeply, “just… don’t forget about me, please, oppa”.

“Oh, there you are”, you hear Nakyoung’s voice behind you. You turn around with Xinyu and wrap an arm around her before turning your attention to Nakyoung, “did you sleep well?”. Nakyoung stops a few steps in front of you, “are you two okay?”. You peck Xinyu’s temple quickly, “we had something to talk about, and I think we’re now okay”. Xinyu wasn’t satisfied with a quick peck, so she moves in front of you and comes in for a kiss, subtly reminding Nakyoung that you’re hers. “I love you so fucking much, oppa—you have no idea”, Xinyu says to you, serving as a reminder of her feelings for you. You put a palm on the side of Xinyu’s neck, “I’m marking you tonight, babe”.

Xinyu rolls her eyes when she hears Nakyoung clear her throat behind her. “I won’t forget about you, Naky-yah”, Xinyu turns around and shows Nakyoung a smiling face—a simple front that Nakyoung should be able to see through. Deep inside, you’re worried; what if you’re the cause of a ruined friendship? That would be disastrous, wouldn’t it? Wait, it was Xinyu’s idea to share you with her best friend, wasn’t it? You have all these questions but nothing but time can answer them for you.

-

“Welcome to—wait, I know you”, the same reception desk staff recognizes the three of you, “thank you for coming back, guys”. “It’s nice to be back, miss”, you shake her hand over the desk. You proceed to show her the booking info on your phone, and after cross-checking it with her computer, the staff hands you two keycards—you booked two rooms to “hide” the fact that you’ll be sleeping with two girls. “Keep it down when you do it, okay?”, the staff winks at you, and you feel your cheeks start getting red from embarrassment. “Th-thank you”, you timidly grab the keycards from her before walking away with Xinyu and Nakyoung.

“So, what will we do after this?”, Xinyu asks as she walks next to you towards your room. “109, 111—oh, here, 115 and 117!”, you ignore Xinyu momentarily as you read the room numbers, “one second, sweetie”. You hand Nakyoung the extra keycard and tell her to go in her room while you try and get in yours. After hearing the door unlock, you pull Xinyu by her wrist and enter with her. You close the door behind you—you make sure Nakyoung can’t disturb you for now—and lean against it. “Babe”, you turn her face towards you, “I love you so fucking much”. Xinyu giggles as her cheeks start turning red, “that was so random, oppa”.

You lift Xinyu by her thighs and carry her towards the bed for some intimacy. “Fuck, I wish I knew other ways to express love other than sex—I’m sorry for being such a boring person, baby”, you admit your cluelessness. Xinyu puts her hands on either side of your face—her hands feel particularly soft today. “I mean, I’m horny for you 24/7, oppa”, Xinyu giggles cutely. You were about to start undressing when you heard your stomach rumble. “Let’s get something to eat, babe; we can’t have sex on an empty stomach”, you say to Xinyu while pulling her onto her feet. Instead of walking towards the door, however, Xinyu opts to hug you tightly. “Oppa, I love you soooo, soooo much. Please don’t forget that”, she says in a small, soft voice. “I was about to say how could I ever forget but I remembered that I literally cheated on you”, you chuckle, amused by your terrible, cherry-picking memory, “no, babe; I will never forget how much you love me”.

Xinyu pulls away from the hug with a smile on her face, but she hasn’t had enough of you just yet. “Your first load is mine, oppa”, she demands with an alluring lick on the lips. “If we weren’t in college, I wouldn’t bother with the pills”, Xinyu piles on, and admittedly, you’re very tempted. “Babe, let’s not be reckless”, you try to stay solid. “Don’t lie to yourself, oppa”, Xinyu smirks naughtily, “we both know we want it—just say the word and I’m yours”. You shut your eyes tightly; it’s very hard to not waver right now, but you—and Xinyu—know that it’s simply too risky and irresponsible. You take a deep breath as you think that you’ve found the perfect reply for her. “Love, I promise that we’ll talk about this one day—y’know, when we’re in a much more comfortable situation and so on”, you hope that Xinyu accepts this reply, because you’re stumped and can’t come up with anything better than this. Xinyu pecks you once and follows it up with a giggle, “sure, oppa”.

-

You break the kiss when you hear someone knock; “fucking shit timing”. Xinyu pinches your cheek softly, “it was your idea to have food sent here, oppa”. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “yeah, I know—come, let’s eat”. You close your eyes and walk around the room a little bit to lull your boner before answering the door. You take the plates from the staff’s hands and put them on the table. “One chicken cordon bleu for you, and one tenderloin steak for me”, you move Xinyu’s plate closer to her and start eating right away.

When you look to the side, you see that Xinyu is already halfway through her meal. “Eat faster, oppa. We have things to do”, she comments on your eating speed. “Fuck this shit”, you put down your utensils and start undressing, unable to hold your horniness back. Seeing you undress makes Xinyu want to follow suit, so she stops eating and takes off her clothes. “Oppa, fuck me—fuck, I want you so fucking bad”, Xinyu begs, as if it’s not clear as day already. You ask her if she wants to suck your cock first, but she firmly declines. “I want you somewhere else”, she says.

Xinyu pushes you onto the bed with all her strength. Sure, she’s not that strong compared to you, but your dramatization is enough to boost her confidence—you’re like a lion and Xinyu is your cub. Xinyu presses down on your wrists that are sitting idle next to your head, “you’ve fucked me countless times, but it’s now my turn to fuck you”. Seeing Xinyu be dominant arouses you beyond help, “fuck me, baby. Show me what you can do”. Xinyu moves her hips around and welcomes you in with ease. “Look, daddy; no hands—ow, fuck”, she yelps, overwhelmed by her own overexcitement.

Xinyu chants your name as she bounces on your cock. “I’m so lucky”, she says with troubled breaths, “you’re so fucking big, daddy”. You’d think that she has gotten used to your size at this point, but you welcome her effort to inflate your ego with open arms nonetheless. You know Xinyu can’t multitask when she’s impaled by your cock, and you can feel her grip on your wrists loosening. You free your wrists easily and pull her down to you, as you’re eager to become a neck painter again. “Yes, yes, fuck—mark me, daddy”, Xinyu eggs you on. Having your lips on her neck excites Xinyu even more, as proven by how she picks up the pace.

“I’m so close already, daddy—how am I so close already, fuck”, she announces to you. You decide to help her cum by matching her pace and meet her in the middle. “Let’s go, baby; let’s cum”, you groan, “fuck, you’re so good at this”. Xinyu removes you from her pussy with a scream, and you feel her juice splashing on your cock and thighs. “Fuck, what a good girl”, you praise her. Xinyu presses her face against your chest and screams more as she rides the high of orgasm until the end. To your surprise, Xinyu plants her teeth into your chest. “Babe, that hurts”, you grit your teeth in pain, “please, babe”. “Sorry, oppa; I just didn’t feel like screaming too loudly”, she says. Xinyu chuckles and points at the teeth mark, “I guess that’s my new mark”.

You don’t bother waiting for Xinyu to calm down and roll over until you’re on top. “You’ve had your fun, haven’t you?”, you move your face close to hers, “my turn now”. Xinyu tries to halt you, but since you’re impatient (and she did not say her safe word), you ignore her. You start thrusting into Xinyu at a high pace, and you see Xinyu’s eyes start rolling towards the back. You want to make sure the stimulation is maximized, so you latch your lips onto one of her tits and play with it. You retaliate against her for biting you in the chest by (lightly) biting her nipple, and Xinyu responds by screaming. “We’re even now”, you chuckle, “fuck, you’re so tight, babe”.

“Babe, babe”, you try to get her attention, “I’m so close”. Xinyu, in her highly stimulated state, weakly sticks out her tongue as if asking for a kiss, so you do as she asks. Now that you’re close to her face, you can hear her quiet moans. “Daddy, please”, she whispers between moans, “in-inside”. That’s as explicit of a consent as it gets, and you don’t bother asking twice. “Oh, fuck”, you let out a low moan as you release your first load of the day deep into Xinyu, granting her wish from earlier. “I love you so much, daddy”, she weakly says. “I love you more, baby girl”, you reply.

You gather your strength and lift Xinyu up while making sure you don’t pull out of her pussy. “W-where are we going?”, Xinyu’s battery is very low right now, and her voice is barely audible. “I don’t want to make a mess on the bed, babe”, you carry her towards the bathroom where she can safely leak out the excess cum. You sit on the toilet and pull Xinyu off your cock, and unsurprisingly, cum starts dripping out. “Let’s shower while we’re here, babe”, you tell her. “I’m going to need some help with that—I can’t feel my legs”, she replies.

You gently put her down on the floor right under the shower and get to her eye level. “Thank you for the cum, oppa”, Xinyu says with a smile, her eyes barely open. “The pleasure is mine, sweetie”, you pet her head, “you’re always so good”. You leave her sitting on the floor to get the soap and shampoo from the cabinet, and that is when you hear Xinyu scream. In a moment of shock, you see that she’s touching herself while squirting hard; her legs are shaking, and her eyes are rolling backwards again. “Yellow, yellow! Daddy, please; yellow!”, Xinyu chants her safe word in panic when she sees you approaching. “Baby, baby, hey”, you soothe her, “we’re done, babe; there’s nothing to worry about”. You pull Xinyu into a hug, “you’re okay, baby—we’re okay. I won’t hurt you”.

You notice that her breathing gradually calms down and returns to its normal pace. “I-I’m sorry, oppa; I just couldn’t take more”, Xinyu says. You reject her apology because there’s nothing to be sorry for to start with; “let’s get cleaned up, hey?”.  You pull Xinyu onto her feet and have her lean against the wall, “I hope your legs are strong enough to support you, babe”. “I hope so too”, she sighs, “how do you do this to me all the time, oppa?”. “Excuse me, babe”, you start running your soapy hands on her body, “yeah, I mean, I’m just me. It’s you that react so well to everything I do”.

-

As you’re walking out of the bathroom with Xinyu in your arms, you hear someone knock at the door. When you look through the peephole, you see that it’s Nakyoung. “One second!”, you yell out. You put Xinyu down on the bed and put on your shorts and boxers before opening the door. “Hi there”, you greet Nakyoung as she enters your room. “Oppa, I’m hungry”, Nakyoung whines, “buy me food, please”. You walk away from Nakyoung to help Xinyu get dressed up. “You can get room service if you want”, you say to Nakyoung as you’re tending to Xinyu. Xinyu then points at Nakyoung while giggling, and when you turn around, you see that she’s eating your and Xinyu’s leftovers. “Are you sure you want to eat that?”, you ask. “Eh, I don’t see why not”, Nakyoung shrugs, and you’re left with no choice but to let her do what she wants.

While Nakyoung is busy finishing your food, you pull Xinyu into your arms for a warm cuddle. “I love you, darling”, you whisper to Xinyu. “I love you more, oppa”, she whispers back with a cute smile on her face. You put a hand on the small of her back and start petting her; “God, you’re so beautiful, baby”. “Xinyu hides her pink cheeks by tucking her head under your chin, “th-thank you, oppa—I swear, you’re so random sometimes”. You quickly glance at Nakyoung and see that she’s still busy eating/being on her phone, so you let her be until she announces that she wants something else.

-

You open your eyes slowly as your soul returns to you. Three of your senses confirm Xinyu’s presence, and it helps put your mind at ease since you have a habit of panicking when you wake up without Xinyu. “Babe?”, you lightly slap her butt to get her attention. Xinyu lets out grunts and hums as she gathers her consciousness. “What?”, she weakly asks. “Let’s wake up, babe; save the sleep for later, hm?”, you point at the clock, “don’t you want to get dinner?”. “Help me wake up”, she says, but instead of letting go of the cuddle, she wraps her limbs more tightly around you.

You try spraying kisses on her head, but Xinyu doesn’t budge. You try offering to have sex after dinner, but Xinyu still doesn’t budge. You resort to your last trick, “okay, fine. I’ll just have dinner with Nakyoung-ie”. Triggered, Xinyu moves to sit on your lap and chokes you with both hands, “the fuck did you just say?”. “I-I’m sorry”, you hold her forearms and try to free yourself from her grip, “ugh—ba-babe, p-please”. Xinyu lets go of your neck and delivers a warning, “do not say such thing again. It’s already hard enough for me to share you with her—I’m not letting her steal you from me”. You close your eyes as you try and control your breathing, “I-I’m sorry, baby. I-I just wanted to ha-have dinner with you—fuck—I-I didn’t mean to offend you”. Xinyu rubs your cheeks gently as a gesture of apology, “I’m sorry, oppa. I didn’t mean to choke you like that—I was triggered, though”.

After getting yourself together, you sit on the edge of the bed and ask Xinyu to sit on your lap. “Baby, were you serious about that? You hate sharing me with Nakyoung-ie?”, you ask. Xinyu nods while looking away, “I thought it would be fun but now I just get jealous more than anything”. “Do you want to talk about this with her?”, you offer her a solution. “What if she leaves us? I don’t want to lose a friend”, she argues. “I think she’ll understand”, you argue, “if she chooses to leave us, then let her—if I were to choose, I’d choose you over her”. Xinyu goes silent as she considers your idea. “Fine”, she sighs, “just not tonight, oppa. We already came all the way here; let’s not ruin the mood for her and ourselves”. You smile and pull her in for a kiss to remind her that she’s your number one. “Let’s have dinner, babe”.

-

Xinyu moves her chair closer to you so that she can lean against your shoulder. “Oppa, I’m so sorry for hurting you”, she whispers while taking your hands in hers. “Hurting me?”, you realize that she’s referring to choking you earlier, “oh, it’s okay. It was wrong of me to say such thing—didn’t know you had it in you like that, though”. Xinyu keeps on spamming you with apologies, and you patiently reply to each one with “it’s okay, baby”. “Babe, look”, you point at the waiter who is on his way to your table, “our food is here”.

Your food is indeed here, and so is Nakyoung, as you see over the waiter’s shoulders that she’s walking towards you. “Hi”, she waves, seemingly in low spirits, “having dinner?”. You invite her to take a seat at your table, “are you okay? You look a bit down”. Nakyoung imitates Xinyu: she moves her chair closer to you and leans against your other shoulder. “I’m not feeling well and you’re ignoring me”, she complains, “can I not have you for a moment? Xinyu-yah, can I be with oppa for a bit?”. You take a quick look at Xinyu and see that she’s giving you a nod of approval. “We’ll go to your room after this, okay? Go order something, sweetie”, you say to Nakyoung, and she walks towards the register with heavy steps to order something for herself.

You and Xinyu start eating first since your food is already on the table. Nakyoung, who hasn’t had enough of you yet, wraps her arms around the lower part of your torso and tucks her head somewhere between your chest and abdomen. You try to guess Xinyu’s feelings by observing her facial expressions, and you see that she has a neutral face on right now; “this should be okay”, you think to yourself. You’re not entirely satisfied with your assessment, so you pick up some spaghetti from your plate and guide it towards Xinyu’s lips. “Choo-choo, baby”, you say as your spoon gets closer to her mouth. “Oh, it’s working!”, you say internally as Xinyu takes the food from your spoon and munches with a smile on her face.

-

You stop in front of Nakyoung’s room and exchange farewells with Xinyu; “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby”. Xinyu nods and tells you to take care of Nakyoung and help her feel better. “Of course, love”, you say with a smile that says, “I understand my duty”. Xinyu returns the smile to you before going in her (your) room.

You enter Nakyoung’s room with her after having her unlock it, and as soon as you’re in, you lift Nakyoung by her butt and carry her to the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”, you ask her. “Two things, oppa”, Nakyoung puts up two fingers in front of you, “I want attention, and I’m horny”. You smile lovingly, “let’s tackle one issue at a time, hm?”.

You move to the middle of the bed and pull her into a seated cuddle. You notice that Nakyoung is pouting; “oppa, do something”. “Before we do anything, I need to ask”, you hold her chin and turn her face towards you, “why did you choose to be my side chick? We both know you deserve to be someone’s number one”. Nakyoung takes your hand and moves it to her cheek, rubbing her face against it like a cat. “Why would I be someone’s number one when being your number two gets me everything I want?”, she says. You’re not sure what she meant by that, so you ask her to explain. “First and foremost, you are kind and respectful to me”, she starts, “secondly, you know how to use your cock—that’s all I want right now”. “Yeah, but like, I can’t give you undivided attention because I have Xinyu”, you argue. Nakyoung shrugs, “I’ve been your third wheel for so long, I’ve gotten used to not having your full attention”.

You’re not sure how to react to that, thus staying silent as you try and think about it. “If you’re still having doubt, oppa, we can talk about it”, she says. “One day, sweeheart—not today”, you say with a smile, “you said you want attention? What kind?”. Nakyoung tightens her arms and legs around you, “stay with me tonight, oppa; we can have sex later if you want. I’ll return you to your girlfriend tomorrow morning”. “A little correction, if I may”, you say in a soft tone, “you’re the one who controls the sex, not me. If you’re not in the mood, we don’t have to—there’s no issue with that, you know”. “Sure, whatever you say”, she chuckles, “see what I mean? Always so respectful, especially when it comes to sex”.

As you move to lie down with Nakyoung, your brain starts wondering how you got this mindset, and your best guess is it came from your parents. You’ve seen how your dad treats your mom with respect and kindness when you were growing up, and that’s probably how your brain picked up the lesson. “I know that look”, Nakyoung says, “you’re thinking about something”. You blink rapidly to turn your focus back on her, “uh, yeah. I was just thinking about my parents”. She tilts her head in confusion, “what about them?”. You sigh, “I hope they’re proud of how I’ve turned out as a man”. She puts her head on your chest, “I’m sure they are; you are a good person. I mean, shit, look at Xinyu: she’s been so loyal to you because of who you are as her boyfriend—well, your little oopsie with Dahyun-ie was your first fuck-up of the relationship”. “Oh, right, Seo Dahyun”, you think to yourself, “I need to make it right with her one day”.

-

“Fuck, who am I kidding?”, Nakyoung straddles you quickly, “oppa, I want you”. “Huh?”, you were ready to go to sleep, but the narrator had other plans, “excuse me?”. Nakyoung slaps you, “sorry for that, but you need to get your head in the game”. Nakyoung takes off her T-shirt and tosses it over her head. “Touch me, oppa”, she grabs your hands and places them on her covered tits. Even behind bra, Nakyoung’s tits are very soft. As you’re playing with her tits, Nakyoung starts humping your crotch. Yearning for more stimulation, she takes off her bra and throws it away; “more, oppa”. You pinch her erect nipples, “is this your idea of attention?”. Nakyoung nods, “fuck, I want your cock so bad”.

Earlier, you’ve made it clear to her that she’s the one who controls the sex, and since she’s now made it clear that she wants to have sex, then what option do you have other than to oblige? “If you want something, cookie, come get it”, you tease her. Nakyoung responds by sloppily dragging your joggers off your legs, revealing the boxers underneath it. She moves down so that her face hovers over your crotch, “may I, oppa?”. You give her your approval in the form of an encouraging nod, so Nakyoung grabs the waistband and pulls down hard. “Look at you”, she starts stroking your cock, “so hard and big—all for me”.

Nakyoung parts her lips and takes you in her mouth, and you can’t help but sink your head into the pillow. “Fuck, so good”, you murmur. Nakyoung asks for your attention by tapping the side of your thigh, and when you look down, you see that she’s gradually going down on your cock while maintaining eye contact. You’re getting impatient, but like you’ve said earlier, she controls the sex—not just the “when”, but also the “how”. You let praises fly out of your lips, hoping that they’ll rile her up more, and it seems to be working. She face-fucks herself rapidly, ignoring the risk of choking on your cock. You pet the side of her head, “you’re doing great, baby—oh, fuck”.

You’re surprised when Nakyoung decides to let you go from her mouth. “No, don’t cum yet; I want it somewhere else”, she says. “Yeah? Where?”, you ask, getting impatient. She asks you to get off the bed before getting on her hands and knees. “In my ass, please”, Nakyoung says, wiggling her butt left and right to tempt you. You don’t want to hurt her, “do you have lube?”. She shakes her head, “I don’t care if it hurts—I’m yours anyway”.

Your cock is already coated by her spit, so you use yours to lube her rear entrance. Nakyoung jolts in surprise, “oh, fuck, I thought that was your cock”. You ask her one more time if she’s sure, but she still doesn’t falter. You spread her cheeks to reveal your target. Before you start, you ask Nakyoung what her safe word is, to which she replies that she doesn’t need one. “Fuck me, please”, she says. You place a finger on her asshole and rub it in circles before slowly penetrating her rear with it. “Fuck, why wouldn’t you just fuck me?”, Nakyoung airs her annoyance. You pull out your finger out of her ass, “you want to get fucked? Fine, let’s do it”.

You spread her ass with one hand and use the other to guide your cock towards her asshole. Nakyoung starts panting when your tip touches her. “If you want to back out, say it now”, you warn, ready to force your way into her forbidden hole. “Do it”, Nakyoung whispers as she braces for the pain. You’re not that experienced in anal sex, but you know that nervousness doesn’t help with penetration. You pull Nakyoung’s torso towards you and into a sitting position. You then grab her chin and come in for a kiss. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt that much”, you assure her, and she seems to be reacting well to your words.

Nakyoung shows you the green light once again in the form of spreading her cheeks for you, and now that your target is clearly in sight, you’re ready to start. You grab your cock and push forward until the tip is in, earning grunts of pain from Nakyoung. “Relax, baby—fuck, you’re so tight”, the sensation her rear is giving you makes you groan, but you don’t want to stop here; you grab Nakyoung’s waist and pull her down so that more of your shaft enters her ass. “Ngh, ngh”, Nakyoung can only groan as her muscles are stretched by your girth. “Oh, God, you’re so deep in me, daddy”, she finally manages to say something after your shaft is almost entirely inside her.

Nakyoung understands that she can’t scream out loud, so she falls face first onto the pillow and uses it to muffle her noises. “Ahng—I-I’m ready”, she says with troubled breaths, “fuck-fuck me”. You make sure your posture is perfect for doggy, and for good measure, you slap her butt a few times, “I’m going”. Once Nakyoung is face down on the pillow, you start pulling back from her ass until only your tip is inside. You hear Nakyoung say something into the pillow, so you lean forward to check if she said her safe word, “what’s that, baby?”. She lifts her face off the pillow and pecks you on the lips, “fuck me, daddy; make me take it—gape me”. You smile naughtily in response, “bet”.

You return to your previous posture and slap her ass a few times, “I’m going again, baby”. Nakyoung scrunches her face in pain, “oh, fuck, my ass—p-please be gentle”. You give her a nod before pushing deeper into her overwhelming tightness; “fuck, this must hurt for you”. “Fuck, fuck!”, Nakyoung screams in pain, “I-I—fuck, just-just make me take it!”. You’re not sure what is causing her to be so determined, but since she’s still consenting to this, it’s in your best interest to keep playing along; “if you say so”.

“I wonder what it’ll be like if I go fast”, a reckless thought enters your mind, “only one way to find out”. Driven by said recklessness, you plant your knees into the bed and hold Nakyoung by the waist, “be good, baby”. “Huh? OH, FU—“, Nakyoung bites the pillow to suppress her scream—you’re fucking her asshole as if it were her pussy: fast and deep. “Fuck, this is crazy”, you comment with a grunt, “how are you taking me like this?”. If Nakyoung’s face wasn’t flat against the pillow, her screams would be heard all the way to the reception desk. You lean forward to whisper in her ear, “hah, fuck—how are you feeling, baby?”. Nakyoung lifts her face slightly, and you see that tears are running down her face. “It hurts, daddy—fuck, it hurts so bad”, Nakyoung says weakly, “I love it”. You pause your thrusts due to the shock, “you love it? Did I hear that right?”. Nakyoung doubles down on it with a smirk, “I love taking you in my ass, daddy”.

“She’s in pain but she said she loves it—ah, fuck it; let’s keep going”, you throw the last bits of doubt out the window and continue fucking her ass, eager to get an orgasm from it. “I’m not pulling out, by the way”, you say to her. Nakyoung straightens her back and leans against your body, “c-can we change position, daddy? I-I want to see you—please!”. You agree to her request and pull out momentarily to switch to missionary—oh, my, it’s so tight! “Like this, baby?”, you hover over her and ask to make sure that this position is satisfactory. Nakyoung grabs your chin and pulls your face towards her for a deep kiss. You try pulling away, but she chases you and invades your mouth space with her tongue.

After having had enough of you, Nakyoung breaks the kiss with a gasp. “Oppa, listen to me, please”, she takes a deep breath to calm herself down after the kiss, “I’m submitting myself to you”. You blink rapidly, acting like you were confused, “excuse me?”. Nakyoung puts on a pout when she sees that you didn’t pick it up the first time. “I hate you sometimes”, she huffs, “I said I’m submitting myself to you—I belong to you now”. You know where she’s going with this, but surely it doesn’t hurt to act like a fool every now and then; “but you’ve been by my side for a while now, no?”, you ask with a straight face. She swaps her pout with a frown, “you’re not cooperating right now, seriously—tell me, which part of it do you not understand?”.

You sneakily move a hand towards her tits and pinch a nipple, thus earning a gasp from Nakyoung, “oh, I understand, baby—I was just playing”. “I hate you”, Nakyoung gasps again when you pinch her other nipple, “f-fuck me again, please”. Ass-to-pussy doesn’t sound too hygienic, so you return to her ass, which welcomes you more easily than before. “Yes, daddy, yes”, she sticks her tongue out very lewdly, “I’m yours, I’m yours—fuck, I’m your bitch”. Hearing her refer to herself like that stuns you for a millisecond, but your guess is that it was the heat of the moment (or the heat in her ass) that caused her to say that.

“I think I’m close”, you announce to her while still maintaining a consistent pace of thrusts. “I want to cum with you, daddy—oh, God, my ass”, Nakyoung puts a hand on her pussy and starts touching herself, aiming to cum together with you. You grab her ankles and put them on each shoulder as you put your back into fucking her properly. She uses her free hand to cover her mouth in case orgasm hits.

“FUCK!”, you exclaim as you bury your cock deep in her rear and blow your second load into her. In the moment of drowsiness, you feel Nakyoung’s juice hitting you in the pelvis. “Heh, heheh”, Nakyoung laughs weakly, “Xinyu is missing out”. You shake your head rapidly to regain focus, “really? You still have the energy to think about Xinyu?”. Nakyoung doesn’t answer, and instead asks you to pull out of her ass. “Oh, fuck, finally”, she sighs in relief, “how does it look, daddy?”.

You move backwards a bit to inspect your work; “gaped—you’re so fucking gaped”.

[onelittlespiral]

Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?

FML: Fraternize

My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.

I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.

They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:

“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”

“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”

“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”

I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:

You are loyal to your bros.

“I am loyal to my bros.”

When you are around them you feel relaxed.

“When I am around them I feel relaxed”

The gym feels like your second home.

“The gym feels like my second home.”

The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.

“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”

Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”

“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”

We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”

I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”

“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”

Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.

The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.

The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:

Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.

Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.

Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.

Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.

Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.

Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:

“Sup, bro, welcome back.”

A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:

“Bro… is that you?!?”

“Bruh, who else would it be?”

My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.

“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.

”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”

His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.

“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”

My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.

“They said we could watch this one together.”

The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.

You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.

Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.

“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”

Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.

As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.

Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.

‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.

A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.

My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.

The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.

My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.

Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.

And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.

And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.

I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:

There was nothing left but frat bro.

[sillygoofyqueer]

AUGH AUGH AUGH AUGH [sounds of me dying the longer I go without writing about the mad scientist AU] Nie Huaisang has just received a message written in blood via a crow that does NOT look alive, likely from Wei Wuxian due to the reference of what his sect is like, similar to how he first approached Nie Huaisang with a message. He isn't quite sure what to do - he should go to his brother at least with this information, but he is very busy planning the war with Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang doesn't want to cause any more stress for them. So! He instead goes to Lan Wangji, who is, as always, helping out in the medical tents whenever he's not on the battlefield. Instead of saying anything that could draw attention to the situation, Nie Huaisang just waves him over and then shows off the yin filled - almost definitely dead - crow, before gesturing for them both to leave the medical tent. Lan Wangji goes without question.

Nie Huaisang shows him the message and is like "so uhh I'm pretty sure this is from Wei Wuxian." "Why is it written in blood?" "he's in the Burial Mounds, you can't expect him to have ink." Lan Wangji concedes this point, and wants to know why he is being told this, so Nie Huaisang explains that to have a batshit insane Wei Wuxian on their side would be very damn useful. Issue is, they need to find the Wen siblings and Xue Yang and get them to safety in order to get his support in the war, and Lan Wangji is great for field missions during this lull in the fighting. It's not like Nie Huaisang is going out!! He works best behind the scenes, after all.

Of course, Lan Wangji is more than desperate to make up for the mistakes he made by not attempting to help Wei Wuxian when he first had a chance to, so he goes out of his way to hunt for the Wen siblings and Xue Yang, chasing down information in a way that is basically like what he was doing during those three months in canon. He finally learns that they are in the supervisory office of Yiling, and goes on over there to collect them - and take back Yiling in the process. Yes, there is a thought of how close Wei Wuxian really was to his family all along, but it's overshadowed by the realisation that they need to explain to Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen what's been going on while they've been busy plotting and planning to save the Jianghu.

Lan Wangji makes the executive decision to bring it up during a meeting, and there is varying degrees of skepticism to the news. Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen are open to the chance of a changing tide in the war, plus they owe Wei Wuxian the protection of his family after they so carelessly overlooked him before he was thrown into the Burial Mounds. Jin Zixuan is like "I said right from the start that he was brainwashed, but nobody believed me!" so he's willing to take the risk of harbouring three wen associates if it means being proven right through the powerhouse that could be Wei Wuxian. (I should explain that they believe that he must be pretty powerful right now because one, he's actually survived in the Burial Mounds, and two, he's had previous work with resentful energy, he had to be getting up to some kind of work in the hellsite.)

Jiang Fengmian is like "I don't know all that much about him, but he did save Jiang Cheng's life, and he's the son of my bestie" but Yu Ziyuan (who is obviously there because why wouldn't she be) is NOT having it. Why would she? She's a hater. She's saying all sorts of insults n shit, but Lan Wangji basically left the moment he got assent from all of the actual sect leaders, so it's all for naught in the end. Lan Wangji is too busy showing up to the supervisory office in Yiling with a small group of soldiers, kicking ass and taking names like there's no tomorrow. Xue Yang, who is quite rabid at the moment, is watching the carnage and being like "I'm going to fucking kill anyone who touches Wei-gege's notes" while Wen Ning and Wen Qing are getting ready to escape. Lan Wangji catches them in the act but is like "we're here to help" and shows them the note that the crows sent.

The lads (Wen siblings + Xue Yang) realise that Wei Ying is alive and go through so many different emotions but they don't have time to unpack all of them - Xue Yang wants to go into the Burial Mounds himself to collect Wei Ying, but Wen Qing shuts that down. They don't know how Wei Ying survived, and they have no clue if Xue Yang would survive. It's best to just let Wei Ying come back to them, like a stray puppy. Xue Yang does not like this, so Wen Qing instead gets him with a needle and Wen Ning carries him along, used to this turn of events. (Yes I have decided that Wen Ning is the shy but sweet brawns to his older sister's brains. He's not not smart or anything, I just think it'd be neat.)

Meanwhile, the crows are watching all around because they're in Yiling, and they report back to an anxiously awaiting Wei Ying, who has been pre-emptively gathering an army of resentful spirits who could find closure in fighting and violence and death. He's helping them all be chill through a gentle melody session, and the Burial Mounds is dragging more spirits into Its grounds to help out Its precious son! Wei Ying learns that his family is not only alive but close to him, and is simultaneously kicking himself while also thanking the Gods that they are alive and they're going to be safe in the grasps of the Sunshot Campaign. With that knowledge handed to him, he feels a lot calmer as he squares his shoulders, pushing all the pain to the side and focusing on the army of resentful spirits he has created.

Oh, the Wen won't know what hit them.

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains (Part IV)

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART V, PART VI, FINAL PART

Plot Overview:

Y/N feels betrayed by Chan after discovering something that deepens her distrust of him. This leads to a heated encounter that forces them to confront their emotions and the powerful, unspoken connection between them. Through this, they form an unbreakable bond, ready to face whatever challenges come their way together.

Warnings: BangChan!Mafia, StrayKids!Mafia, Mafia!AU, Mature content, Explicit language, Graphic sexual content, Intense Emotional Themes, Power Dynamics, Consent and Control Issues, SMUT.

Author Note:

Well, here we are—another chapter in the books! I can’t believe how much fun (and chaos) this story has brought me so far. Honestly, it’s been a rollercoaster writing this, and I hope you all are hanging on for the ride. Your support has been amazing, and I’m so grateful for every comment, like, and message. You’re all the best! 💖

And yes, you read that right—the spice chapter is finally here! 🔥 Things are getting intense, and trust me, we’re just getting started! I hope you’re enjoying the story as much as I am. So please, keep the feedback coming—good, bad, or somewhere in between, I’m here for all of it. Can’t wait to see what you think of what’s coming next. Buckle up, it’s going to be a wild ride! ✨

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You’ve already made the promise. You’ve already given your word. You pledged to Chan—no more pretending. No more playing the part of the obedient daughter, standing by your father’s side, pretending that his empire was your future. That future is over. You made your decision when you chose to ally with the Stray Kids Mafia. You chose to help bring down your father’s empire, to help Chan dismantle everything Victor had built so you could rebuild it in your own image. You’ve been living that promise, day by day.

But now—now things feel different.

The report on the screen hits hard. Victor’s empire has taken another critical blow. A key territory lost, and your father’s most trusted allies, those you thought were immovable, have betrayed him. They’ve joined Chan, thrown their loyalty behind him, and now the cracks are wider than ever. Your father’s grip is slipping. You should feel satisfaction, but instead, a cold knot of anger tightens in your stomach.

You knew the war was coming. You knew things would break. You’d always known this was going to end in flames. You signed up for that. But now… now it feels like the fire is burning too fast. And you weren’t ready for the sharp sting of betrayal.

Because hidden in the middle of this intel report is something you didn’t expect—something Chan had kept from you. A secret plan. A major offensive, one so brutal it’s designed not just to weaken your father, but to completely destroy him.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the details flash across the screen. Chan’s plan isn’t just about seizing power—it’s about annihilating your father’s last remaining strongholds, leaving him with nothing but ruin. And Chan kept this from you.

You trusted him. You told yourself that you were in this together. You promised him that you would help him tear your father’s empire apart, brick by brick. You promised him loyalty, but this—this was something else.

You lean forward, hands shaking as you dig deeper into the files, hoping this is a mistake. But it’s not. The timeline matches. This attack is scheduled for the day after tomorrow—when your father will still be reeling from the betrayal, when he won’t be able to mount any meaningful defense. And all the while, you had no idea.

The reality sinks in slowly. Chan has been working on this behind your back. Even after everything you agreed to, he made this decision alone, without consulting you, without bringing you into the fold. There was no partnership here, no shared vision. This was his plan, and you were just a tool he used to get what he wanted.

You can feel the anger swelling in you—sharp, bitter, furious. But beneath that anger is something else. There’s a pang of something you’re reluctant to name, something that cuts deeper than any betrayal. It’s the realization that despite your promises, despite everything you’ve done so far, you are still playing a part in someone else’s game. Chan’s game.

For a moment, the weight of it all presses down on you. You told yourself this was the way forward. This was the future you could shape. But now, standing here with this knowledge, it feels like the last remnants of control you thought you had are slipping away.

You’ve given up everything—your allegiance, your family, your past—for this. And now Chan has taken that trust and turned it into a strategy, a move to consolidate his power, without ever bringing you into the process.

And yet… you still can’t deny it. There’s something about his ambition, his vision, that calls to you. There’s something magnetic about the way he operates, how he always seems to be five steps ahead. You wanted this, didn’t you? To be part of something bigger. To rise above your father’s shadow.

But you didn’t want this. Not like this. Not with him keeping secrets from you.

You grab the file, slamming it closed in frustration, your thoughts racing. You can’t just turn back now. You’ve already made your choice, even if it feels like you’ve lost yourself somewhere in the process. You promised Chan you’d help him tear down Victor’s empire. You promised him that you would walk beside him as an ally, not a pawn.

But now, with this hidden plan, with this secret attack, you’re not sure where you stand anymore. How much of your control has been an illusion all along?

You have a choice to make. Stay loyal to Chan and see this through, even if it means continuing to help him destroy everything you once held dear… or walk away, trying to salvage whatever is left of your family’s legacy, even if that means betraying the promise you made.

But in your heart, you know. There’s no turning back. You’ve already crossed the line.

You stand in front of the computer, your fingers hovering over the keys as the weight of your decision crashes over you. Chan’s plan, the one he kept hidden from you, is more than just strategic—it’s personal. You promised him you’d help him take down Victor’s empire, but what you didn’t know was that Chan had been preparing for a move that would change everything, and he didn’t share it with you.

It feels like betrayal. You’re not just another player in his game, but that’s how he’s treated you. And it pisses you off. You wanted to make your own choices, to decide how far you’d go. Not be caught in the middle of a game you didn’t agree to.

So you act. You start working to warn your father’s allies, to slow Chan’s plan down. This isn’t just about strategy anymore; it’s about you taking control of the narrative, about reclaiming your autonomy in this twisted situation.

But as the message is ready to send, you hear the door creak open behind you. The soft, familiar sound of his presence fills the room, and your stomach flips, caught between anger and something far more dangerous.

Chan’s footsteps are silent as he approaches, his gaze locking onto you the moment you turn. “What are you doing?” His voice is calm, but the undercurrent of something darker flows just beneath it.

You stand your ground, refusing to show any sign of hesitation. “Trying to stop you,” you say, your voice clipped. “You kept this from me, Chan. This move of yours, it’s reckless. It’s personal. You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t care?”

He steps closer, his gaze flickering over your face. “I never wanted you to be part of this from the start,” he says, his voice softening just enough to show the sincerity behind his words. “You’re not supposed to feel anything. You’re supposed to help me bring this empire down. Help me take control of what’s left.”

You scoff, the anger rising again. “You think I can just throw away everything I know, everything I’ve worked for, and help you destroy my own father’s empire without a damn word about it? Without even telling me what you’re planning? You lied to me, Chan. You hid things from me.”

His eyes darken, but there’s no defensiveness in his expression. Instead, there’s something else—something almost regretful, and a flicker of vulnerability that catches you off guard. “I didn’t hide it because I don’t trust you. I hid it because I didn’t want you to feel like you had to make a choice. This is more than just strategy, Y/N. It’s survival. It’s about taking down what’s broken. But I never wanted to put that weight on you. Not like this.”

You turn away, frustration bubbling inside you. The way he says it—like he’s trying to protect you from the mess he’s made. You hate it. You don’t need his protection. But still, that trace of vulnerability in his voice sticks with you.

“I don’t need your protection,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I never asked for it.”

Chan moves behind you then, his presence engulfing the space between you. He leans close, the warmth of his body radiating against your back as he places a hand on the desk, trapping you between it and him. “I know you didn’t ask for it. But you’re still here,” he says, his voice low and dangerously close to your ear. “You’re still a part of this. You always have been. And the moment you decided to side with me, you stepped into something bigger than either of us.”

You shiver, your body instinctively reacting to his proximity. The tension between you both crackles, not just from the unspoken words but from something much deeper, much more dangerous. This isn’t just about power or control anymore. It’s about everything that’s simmered between you both, everything that’s been building up.

“You never gave me a choice,” you bite out, but even as you say it, you can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach. His voice, the way he touches you without touching you, makes it hard to focus on the anger.

“I never wanted to give you a choice,” he murmurs, his breath warm on the side of your neck. “I wanted you with me. Because of you, not just your help. You’re not just part of this plan, Y/N. You’re my plan.” His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, sending a rush of heat through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

The words, the closeness, it’s all too much. It makes the space between you feel impossibly small, and you find yourself leaning back into him instinctively. You’re still angry, still frustrated, but something else is rising too. Something that’s impossible to ignore.

“I’m not just yours to control, Chan,” you breathe, your voice trembling with the weight of your words.

“No,” he agrees softly, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “But you will be. You’ve already made that choice, Y/N. The moment you decided to work with me, you were part of this. Whether you like it or not.”

You meet his gaze, fire and frustration burning behind your eyes, but the undeniable chemistry, the magnetic pull between you, is more than you can handle. His fingers slide up your back, teasing the edge of your shirt, and you shiver at the sensation. You want to push him away, to tell him to stop, but you can’t. Not when his touch makes every nerve in your body hum with need.

“I’m still angry,” you say, your voice low, but there’s something else beneath the words—something raw. “I’m still pissed off that you kept this from me.”

“I know,” he replies, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw. “But you’re also here, Y/N. And I can’t ignore the way you’re looking at me.”

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a kiss that’s softer than the fury of your words, but no less intense. The kiss deepens as he pulls you closer, and you lose yourself in the heat of it—the way he holds you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Your mind still rebels against the way he’s controlled so much of this, but your body? Your body is telling you something else. Something deeper, something more primal.

And as his hands slide under your shirt, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is the only way forward for you both—surrendering not just to what he’s offering, but to the fire that’s been building between you from the moment you met.

You break the kiss, your breath ragged, chest rising and falling in quick succession. The taste of him lingers on your lips, but your mind is screaming at you to pull away—to regain control before you lose yourself completely. You shove him back, though the force feels half-hearted, your hands trembling as you push against his chest.

“Stop,” you rasp, your voice sharp as you take a step back, putting a little distance between you both. Your pulse is still racing, the tension between you palpable, but there’s something else now. Something heavier.

Chan doesn’t immediately pull away, his expression unreadable, but his eyes, those dark eyes, burn through you. His jaw is clenched, and for a moment, he looks like he’s considering something dangerous. But he doesn’t give in to the silence.

“So that’s it?” His voice is low, almost taunting. “You’re just going to walk away now? After everything?”

You shake your head, trying to steady your breath, to reclaim some semblance of the control you need. You didn’t come here to let him break you—not like this, not when you still haven’t made a damn decision.

“No,” you say, your voice firmer, but your words feel hollow in the thick air. “I’m not walking away. But I won’t just let you manipulate me, Chan.”

He steps closer again, the space between you shrinking until you’re forced to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. You’re standing on the edge, the pull of him undeniable, but this time, you don’t feel like you can trust yourself around him.

“I’m not manipulating you,” he replies, his voice smooth, almost soothing—but you can hear the edge beneath it. “But I am challenging you. You think this is just about your father’s empire, but it’s not. This is about us. About what we really want.”

You feel your throat tighten, and for a moment, you hate that he’s right. You told yourself you could keep pretending, keep being the cold, calculating player in this game. But here you are, letting yourself be swept away by him, caught between your promise and something much more dangerous.

“Don’t,” you murmur, even as your body betrays you, the heat between you both still crackling in the air. “Don’t pretend this is about anything but power, Chan. You want control. You’ve wanted it from the moment you walked into my life.”

Chan doesn’t flinch at your accusation, his lips twitching into a small, knowing smile. “I’ve always been about control. You should know that by now. But you, Y/N… You think you’re just playing the game. You think you’re in control. But deep down, I think you’re afraid of what will happen when you finally admit you’re not.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. Instead, something inside you shifts. The way he’s looking at you, the way he sees right through your defenses—it’s unsettling. But it’s also… freeing. The truth of it makes your chest tighten, the sharp pang of desire mixing with something else you can’t quite name.

“I’m not afraid,” you say, but the uncertainty in your voice makes it clear you’re lying.

He steps even closer now, until his chest is barely a breath away from yours, and you have to fight the urge to close the gap yourself. The heat between you both is suffocating, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you stand your ground, your eyes meeting his.

“You are afraid,” he says softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The touch is gentle, but it holds an undeniable possessiveness. “You’re afraid of what’s between us. Of how much you want this, even when you try to convince yourself you don’t.”

The proximity, the way he moves so effortlessly around your defenses, makes your head spin. It’s no longer just about power, about control—it’s about something raw and visceral, something that both repels and pulls you in. You try to fight it, but his words make your pulse race in a way you can’t ignore.

And then, before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches up, gripping the front of his shirt. The motion feels like a betrayal of your own resistance, but it’s also a challenge. You’re testing him. Testing yourself.

“Is this what you want, Chan?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries the weight of everything unspoken between you. “To control me? To make me want you, even when I hate myself for it?”

He doesn’t hesitate, his hands cupping your face gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “No. I don’t want to make you hate yourself. I want you to choose this, Y/N. I want you to stop pretending like you’re above it all. Like you’re not as deep in this as I am.”

Your breath hitches as his thumbs brush against your lips, his touch somehow both comforting and igniting the spark of something far more dangerous. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whisper, your voice cracking with the intensity of your emotions.

“I know,” he murmurs, leaning in until his breath mingles with yours. “But I think you’re ready for it.”

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, but this kiss is different. It’s not just about power anymore, not just about strategy. It’s about surrender—and about what happens when two forces collide and can’t pull away.

You kiss him back, your hands grabbing at his shirt, your body responding before your mind can catch up. The last of your resistance falters as his hands slide around your waist, pulling you against him. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, and for a moment, nothing else matters. The rest of the world disappears, leaving only the two of you tangled in this chaotic, electric moment.

And then, just as quickly as it started, you pull away again. The air between you both is charged, but the space feels like it’s closing in. You can’t keep pretending you’re in control of this. The game, the rules, the power—it’s all slipping through your fingers. And for the first time, you realize you don’t want to stop.

“Don’t fight it, Y/N,” Chan says, his voice low and commanding. “You don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You meet his gaze, feeling the shift between you both. It’s no longer just about winning. It’s about something more. And as the last remnants of your resistance crumble away, you know there’s no going back.

You swallow, the weight of his words sinking into your chest. You’ve fought him, resisted, told yourself you wouldn’t fall into this. But standing here, under the heat of his stare, you realize the truth. You’ve been fighting the wrong battle.

The power dynamic has always been tangled between you two, each of you playing the game in your own way. But now, as he stands so close to you, his hand lightly grazing your arm, you feel the last of your defenses crumble. It’s not a defeat. It’s a choice.

You glance away, as if avoiding the full force of what you’re about to let happen, but Chan is already stepping into your space. His fingers find the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his gaze once more. There’s no more cold calculation in his eyes, no more power plays. There’s something softer now. Something dangerous, but intimate.

“You think you can keep pretending?” His voice is quieter now, but it cuts through you like a knife. “You don’t have to fight anymore, babygirl. I know what you want.”

His words hit like a spark to tinder. Something inside you flares up, but it’s not anger. It’s not defiance. It’s something darker, more vulnerable. The heat in your chest blooms into something fiercer, more immediate. He sees through you—sees all of it—and in some way, it’s both terrifying and thrilling.

You try to look away, to push him back, but his grip tightens slightly, pulling you closer. Your bodies press together, the heat of his chest against yours. Your hands, trembling, move to his shoulders, but it’s not to push him away anymore. It’s to feel him, to steady yourself against the flood of emotion that’s rising.

“I don’t need this to be easy, Y/N,” he says, his voice low, but filled with something you can’t quite name. The words are a challenge, a dare, but you don’t know if you have the strength to refuse.

But you try, because that’s what you’ve always done. You push against his chest, just enough to create a sliver of space between you. “I’m not some plaything, Chan,” you manage, but your voice cracks, the lie obvious to both of you.

A dark smile curves his lips, and you feel a shiver race down your spine. “I never said you were,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “But you sure like to make things difficult. Don’t you?”

The space between you narrows, his lips brushing against yours, a whisper of a kiss that makes your pulse race. You feel yourself leaning into it before you can stop. There’s no going back now.

You suck in a breath, hands still gripping his shirt, your fingers trembling as you try to steady yourself. The room feels small now, the air thick with the tension that’s been building between you two. And for the first time, you realize how close you are to surrendering completely.

“I won’t be one of your pawns, Chan,” you whisper, but the challenge in your words is fading. You don’t have the strength to keep it up.

His lips press against yours in a kiss that’s deeper, harder, as if he’s taking all the answers you won’t say aloud. One of his hands slides down to your waist, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he wants to erase any remaining distance.

The kiss deepens, and something inside you snaps. The fight, the need for control—it slips away like sand between your fingers. You know you’re giving in, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like losing. It feels like choosing.

Chan pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his lips hovering over yours. “You’re mine now,” he murmurs, his voice a promise. There’s no doubt in his words, no question. He’s claiming you, but it’s not in the way you expected. It’s not forceful. It’s simply… inevitable.

Your breath catches as you meet his gaze. “I’m not some thing to own,” you reply, but it’s not a challenge anymore. It’s a question. You’re asking if this is real, if this is something that could be more than just this moment. But you already know the answer. He’s pulling you under, and you’re allowing it.

Chan’s hand moves to the back of your neck again, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “You’re mine in every way,” he says softly, the words sending a ripple of heat through you. “But you’re also free, Y/N. You’ve always had the power.”

His lips find yours again, and this time, you don’t resist. The kiss is softer now, almost tender, but still charged with that wild energy that neither of you can deny. His hands roam over your body, the touch possessive but gentle, a silent reminder that you’re not just a victim in this game. You’re a willing participant.

“You don’t have to fight it,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your back. “Let go. Let me take care of you.”

The words sink deep into your chest, and you feel something inside you loosen. The last of your resistance falls away, and for the first time, you let yourself truly feel everything—the heat, the hunger, the tension between you both. It’s not just about desire anymore. It’s about something more complex, something more intimate. It’s about connection.

“I’m not afraid,” you breathe, meeting his gaze once more. “But I’m not in control anymore, am I?”

His lips curve into a smile, dark and knowing. “No. But that doesn’t mean you’re weak.”

You feel the shift now, the power dynamic changing, ebbing and flowing between you both. But in this moment, it’s not about who has the power—it’s about giving into it, about allowing yourself to be taken by him and by this thing between you.

And when he kisses you again, this time, you don’t just yield. You give him everything, because you know you can. The tension between you two shifts, and as his lips claim yours with a hunger that mirrors your own, you realize this is the moment—the moment where you stop pretending you don’t feel this.

His hands move over your body with deliberate slowness, tracing the lines of your form as if savoring each curve. There’s an intensity to his touch, an ownership, but it’s not cold. It’s heated, possessive, like he’s learning the feel of you for the first time, yet somehow, he already knows exactly where to touch. His fingers are light but firm, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed flush together.

“Don’t act like you’re in control,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The playful teasing in his voice isn’t lost on you, and you know—he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. But there’s an undeniable dominance to his tone, a reminder of the power he holds. “You wanted this all along.”

You hate that he’s right, but at the same time, you feel a rush of exhilaration. You wanted this. The subtle push and pull of control, the friction between his dominance and your independence. It’s more than a battle of wills—it’s a dance.

With a sharp tug, he pulls you even closer, his lips brushing against your neck, and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. The heat between you intensifies, and with every brush of his lips, you feel your own self-control begin to slip further. He hasn’t stopped moving, hasn’t stopped claiming space—his hands sliding over the smooth skin of your back, pushing you to lean into him more, as if your bodies belong together.

For a moment, you lose yourself in the sensation. You’re not thinking, not strategizing. There’s no longer a game being played between you two. But then you catch your breath, regaining some clarity, and you pull back just enough to look into his eyes.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to play, Chan,” you say, your voice low, but there’s a steel to it—an edge you’re not quite ready to give up. You push at his chest, just enough to create some space. “You think you can control me, but I’m not some toy for you to bend to your will.”

Chan smirks, his expression dark and unreadable, but there’s an intensity there that speaks volumes. He leans in again, his lips brushing against yours with a quiet force. “I never said you were a toy, Y/N. But you’ve always liked the game, haven’t you?” His words are a challenge, an invitation. “Tell me, babygirl, how far will you let me push you?”

A surge of something sharp rushes through you—defiance, desire, frustration. You tilt your chin up, a slight smile curving your lips as you meet his gaze. “I’ll let you push me as far as I want, Chan. But remember this—I’m still in charge of my own choices.”

His hand moves to your waist, the pressure increasing as he pulls you back into him, the proximity so close you can feel the rapid thrum of his pulse against your skin. “You can say that, but your body’s already betraying you.” His lips graze your throat again, sending a rush of heat through you. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

You feel your resolve begin to crack, but you refuse to let him see it fully. You want this fight to be mutual, even if the lines between control and surrender are starting to blur. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him into another kiss, this time more urgent, more desperate.

“Don’t mistake my resistance for weakness, Chan,” you murmur against his lips, though the words are as much for yourself as they are for him. “I know exactly what I want.”

His grip on you tightens, the sound of your breath mingling as you struggle to keep control of the moment, but it slips through your fingers, piece by piece. His hands wander lower, and you can’t help but arch into him, the heat of his touch making every part of your body ache for more. He senses your response, his smirk growing even more dangerous.

“You’re right,” he whispers, his voice dropping an octave as he presses his lips against your ear. “You know exactly what you want. And right now, you want me.”

You shiver, your body reacting to his words before your mind can catch up. But even as your body surrenders, you refuse to let him think he’s completely won. Not yet. Not entirely.

“You’ve underestimated me,” you whisper back, your voice laced with defiance, but even you can hear the cracks forming. “You’ve only seen one side of me, Chan.”

His gaze sharpens, as if he’s intrigued, his lips curling into a dangerous grin. “Then show me, babygirl. Show me everything.”

With that, the moment shifts again, like a spark igniting the last piece of resistance in you both. Chan’s hands are everywhere now—caressing, exploring, tracing the fire burning beneath your skin. The air is thick with need, the space between you electric as your body finally gives in to the demands you’ve been ignoring for too long.

But just as quickly, he pulls back slightly, his lips hovering over yours, his breath ragged. His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them possessively, pulling you against him once more. “You think you’re still in control?” he murmurs, his voice barely a breath. “You’re not, Y/N. You’re already mine.”

The words send a thrill through you, and for the first time in a long while, you let go completely, leaning into him, giving yourself over to the rush of desire, of power slipping away and surrender taking its place.

"I’m my own person, Chan,” you say, your hands slipping under his shirt, exploring the firm muscles of his abdomen, the heat of his skin only intensifying your desire.

His lips graze your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he murmurs, “But look at you, babygirl. So eager, so beautiful, so fucking mine.”

You couldn’t help but let a soft gasp escape as his words hit you. It was as if he could control your very pulse with just a few utterances. His touch, deliberate and slow, was a force that made you feel things you’d never let yourself before.

With a purposeful ease, he slipped your shirt off, the fabric falling away like a whisper, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, lifting you effortlessly and placing you onto the desk. The movement was fluid, intimate, and powerful—his body positioning himself between your legs with an unspoken dominance that made your heart race.

He cupped your face gently, his fingers tender against your skin, pulling you into his gaze. “Let me in, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Stop fighting it. Let me take care of you. Let me show you what it feels like to be cared for, to be wanted. Let me in… let us be something more than the chaos around us. Don’t fight what’s been between us from the start. Let yourself fall with me. Give us a chance.”

"I’m scared,” you admit, the truth slipping from your lips, a vulnerability you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice before. “Knives and guns are easy, but feelings… feelings aren’t.”

His gaze softens at your confession, a tenderness in his eyes as he leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a spark of warmth against your skin. His hands move with purpose, gently unhooking your bra, his touch slow, deliberate.

“I know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “But I’ll catch you. Trust me.”

In that moment, all the fear, all the uncertainty, melts away. You trust him, even if it feels like a leap into something you can’t fully comprehend. You lean back onto the desk, pulling him closer, and as you toss your bra aside, you kiss him deeply, feeling the heat between you grow with each passing second. The closeness, the skin-to-skin contact, sends a shiver through your body, and you can’t help but want more.

He trails soft kisses down your neck, his lips brushing lower over your collarbone, while his hands find your breasts, teasing your nipples with skilled precision. The sensation has your back arching instinctively, a gasp escaping your lips as your eyes flutter shut. You feel the curve of his smirk against your skin, smug and irresistible.

“So responsive, baby,” he murmurs, his voice laced with that signature arrogance. If you weren’t already undone by him, you might have had a clever retort to put him in his place. But right now, you let it slide, too lost in the way he’s unraveling you piece by piece.

His mouth travels lower, lips grazing over the swell of your breast before capturing your nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. His hands don’t stay idle, exploring every curve of your body until his fingers hook onto the waistband of your pants. As his mouth continues its torturous focus on your left nipple, he starts to slowly unzip your pants, the sound sharp and tantalizing in the quiet room.

As he slowly slides your pants down your legs, his lips follow the path of exposed skin, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses down your abdomen. Each touch of his mouth draws quiet moans from you, and your breath comes quicker, chest rising and falling as he takes his time savoring you.

When his lips finally reach your thighs, you bite down on your bottom lip, the sensation overwhelming. It feels like he’s worshiping every inch of your body, a reverence you’ve never known before. The tenderness of it is intoxicating, and yet it’s paired with an intensity that makes your heart race.

He hooks his fingers under your panties, sliding them down in one deliberate motion, leaving you bare. His hands grip your thighs, firm and commanding as he parts your legs, presenting you fully to him. You feel your cheeks flush at the way his eyes darken, hunger and desire flashing across his face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice a low growl, every word heavy with possession. “So goddamn mine. You hear me? Mine.”

The finality in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and your stomach twists in a way that leaves your mind hazy. But you’re not one to surrender without a fight. You meet his gaze with defiance, biting your lip without realizing it, and manage to say, though your voice trembles, “You wish I was yours.”

His smirk is devastating. That cocky, arrogant, infuriatingly attractive bastard. He leans down between your thighs, his breath warm against your core, and you tremble beneath him. His voice drops, the rasp sending shivers over your skin.

“The fact that you’re dripping all over my desk, but still trying to deny it? That’s a contradiction, babygirl.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is on your pussy, hot and relentless. He licks and sucks at your clit with precision, his tongue drawing circles that send you reeling. Your back arches off the desk, a moan escaping your lips as your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the strands as you gasp his name. The sensation is too much and yet not enough, and all you can do is give in to the fire he’s ignited.

As if the relentless attention of his mouth wasn’t enough, his fingers glide into you, two of them slipping in with an ease that makes your breath hitch. He moves them slowly, deliberately teasing, curling them just enough to drive you mad. The rhythm is torturous, every stroke lighting a fire in your core but never letting it burn fully. You mewl in frustration, your hips bucking instinctively against his hand.

“Chan, please—” The plea escapes before you can stop it, raw and breathy, and he chuckles against your thigh, the sound dripping with amusement.

“Are you begging, baby?” His voice is a mix of mockery and arrogance, so maddeningly confident that it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

It’s then that you notice he’s still fully dressed. Not a single button of his shirt undone, his belt still firmly in place. The realization strikes you like lightning—this is a power play. He’s in control, and he wants you to know it. He wants you to beg, to surrender entirely to him.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you’re ready to give in. You feel it in every trembling inch of your body. You need him, need him inside you, need this unbearable tension to snap. Your skin is alive with sensation, tingling with a desperate, aching need.

But defiance dies hard. You bite your lip, forcing your voice steady despite the heat pooling in your belly. “If I beg,” you say, a challenge in your tone, “will you finally skip the foreplay and actually fuck me like the man you claim to be? Or is all this just for an ego boost?”

Your words earn you a sharp slap to your core, the sting sending shockwaves through you. You gasp, whining as your back arches off the desk, the delicious mix of pain and pleasure robbing you of air.

“Language, babygirl,” he warns, his voice dangerously low. His fingers don’t stop their torturous pace, keeping you right on the edge. “Now, be a good girl and tell me what you want. Maybe—just maybe—I’ll give it to you, but only if you ask nicely.”

The smugness in his tone should make you furious, but instead, it unravels you. Every nerve in your body is screaming for him, for release, for everything. You know you’ve lost the upper hand, but in this moment, you don’t care.

In that moment, you did something you’d never done with anyone before—you swallowed your pride. The words tumbled from your lips, raw and unfiltered, so desperate they almost startled you. “Please, I—please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside me. I need you, baby. Please.”

The vulnerability in your voice ignited something primal in him. His control snapped. His hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it with a speed that made your breath hitch. His pants and boxers slid down his legs in one smooth motion, and as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you mercilessly, his other hand moved to unbutton his shirt.

Finally, you saw him—completely bare—and the sight stole what little breath you had left. Broad shoulders, a sculpted chest, abs defined like carved stone, and then your eyes dropped lower. The sight of his cock—long, thick, the tip flushed and glistening—made your mouth water.

“You’re staring, love,” he teased, his tone dripping with cocky arrogance.

And for once, you didn’t care. Let him gloat, let him know. You couldn’t tear your eyes away even if you tried. When you finally looked back up at him, your voice came out soft, almost pleading. “Kiss me, please.”

Something shifted in his gaze—softened. He saw it, the emotions swirling inside you. Overwhelmed, conflicted, yet undeniably drawn to him. He understood. This wasn’t just physical—it was everything.

He leaned down slowly, his face inches from yours, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then to the bridge of your nose. Finally, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll kiss you, baby. As many times as you want, as many times as it takes for you to understand you’re mine. And whether you like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.”

Then he kissed you. Not with urgency, but with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. The world faded, leaving just the two of you.

As his lips moved against yours, his hips followed suit. You felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, sliding in slowly, inch by agonizing inch. The stretch was intense, your body adjusting to accommodate him. You moaned into his mouth, your hands searching for something to hold onto, but before you could, his fingers found yours. He intertwined them, holding your hands down gently on either side of your head, grounding you.

He broke the kiss but stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as he stilled, giving you time to adjust. His first thrust was slow, deliberate, and so deep it left you gasping.

The sensation was overwhelming. “S-so big,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, trying to convey how full you felt.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and gravelly. “Relax for me, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight I might not last. Let me know when you’re ready, yeah?”

His voice, gentle yet commanding, sent a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes, focusing on the way his body felt against yours, how perfectly he fit, and the quiet reassurance of his presence.

After a few moments, you nodded, giving him the silent permission he needed. He kissed you again, deeply and tenderly, as his hips began to move. The first few thrusts were slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. Your moans were swallowed into the kiss, his lips soft yet insistent against yours, his hands still intertwined with yours, grounding you to the moment.

It felt too good—your body responding to his every move, your walls fluttering around him with every inch he gave you. The sensation pulled a low, guttural groan from him, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you. He broke the kiss just enough to nip at your lower lip, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, babygirl,” he rasped, his eyes falling shut, overwhelmed by the way you clenched around him. “So fucking good for me.”

His words sent a shiver racing down your spine. Something in the way he said them, the way he claimed you with every breath, made you want to give him more. You wanted to be good for him—you needed to. The rough, primal groans that escaped his throat were intoxicating, and in your haze, the only thought that came to you escaped your lips in a breathless moan:

“Harder.”

His eyes snapped open at your plea, dark and hungry. A smirk curved his lips, but there was something raw behind it. “You want harder, baby?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, even as his grip on your hands tightened.

You nodded, too lost to care how desperate you sounded. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Harder, Chan.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Hold on to me, then,” he murmured, leaning in close until his forehead pressed to yours again. And then he gave you exactly what you asked for.

And he gave it to you good. Harder. Rougher. Each powerful thrust left you gasping, your moans growing louder and more desperate. Words became impossible to form—every coherent thought shattered by the way he moved, the way he claimed you completely. But you didn’t need words; the sound of your cries, your trembling body, said everything.

The effect you had on him was evident. His darkened eyes, his jaw tight with control, and the guttural groans slipping from his throat spoke volumes. Still, he wanted to give you more.

His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit effortlessly. His fingers moved in slow, firm circles, the sensation so overwhelming you arched your back off the desk. A ragged gasp tore from your throat as he smirked down at you, the arrogance on his face only fueling your desire.

His other hand moved to your neck, his grip firm but careful—not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to remind you who was in control. The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, your head falling back, eyes rolling as the growing coil in your stomach threatened to snap.

“So. Fucking. Beautiful,” he growled, each word punctuated by a deep, brutal thrust that hit every sensitive spot inside you. His voice was rough, raw, and filled with a reverence that made you tremble. You could feel your body teetering on the edge, his touch and words stripping you of everything but the overwhelming need to fall apart for him.

When he hit that devastatingly sweet spot deep inside you, it was as though the world tilted. Your vision blurred, your breathing hitched, and every nerve in your body threatened to snap. “I’m gonna—” you tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a cry, a moan that seemed to echo through the room. He didn’t need you to finish—he could feel it in the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook uncontrollably.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with raw desire, and as if on command, your body gave in. The coil inside you unraveled violently, pleasure washing over you in waves so intense your thighs trembled, your toes curled, and his name spilled from your lips like a mantra.

But he didn’t stop.

His relentless thrusts didn’t falter, prolonging your orgasm as he kept applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit. The sensation teetered between euphoria and overstimulation, leaving you trembling beneath him. Your breaths turned ragged, your voice breaking into a pleading whimper. “Chan— t-too much—”

He ignored your protests, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. His dark eyes burned with hunger, his focus entirely on you.

“You can take it, sweet girl,” he rasped, leaning in to kiss you hard, his lips swallowing your cries. His pace stayed steady but sloppy now, his thrusts deeper, harder, as though chasing his own release.

“One more,” he murmured against your lips, his voice both commanding and tender. “Give me one more, baby. You’re so beautiful when you fall apart on my cock—just one more.”

His words wrecked you, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body. Your head spun, tears slipping from your eyes as the intensity pushed you toward another peak. And when he angled his hips just right, thrusting deeply, your body betrayed you again.

This orgasm hit like a tidal wave, blinding and all-consuming. You gasped, your body arching off the desk, thighs locking around him as your walls clenched tight, gripping him like a vice. Your vision blurred white, your mind going blank except for the feeling of him filling every part of you.

“Fuck—look at you,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he felt you squeeze him tighter, harder. His rhythm faltered, and when you tugged him into a kiss—fierce, desperate, full of everything you couldn’t say—it shattered what little control he had left.

With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips so hard you knew you’d wear his marks for days. His release hit, warm and overwhelming, as he filled you completely. His forehead pressed against yours, breaths mingling, both of you trembling and wrecked, caught in the aftermath of something far more than just physical.

He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, he stayed close, his lips trailing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw and neck, grounding you as your breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. His touch, once so commanding, now moved gently across your skin, fingertips tracing soothing patterns along your sides.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice low and tender, filled with a care that made your chest ache. “Ride it out, baby. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

His words wrapped around you like a cocoon, and you found yourself melting further into his hold. He kissed your temple, his thumb brushing across your cheek to catch the tears you didn’t realize were still there.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching yours, full of concern despite the haze of his own release.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your voice too shaky to form words yet. He stayed where he was, his forehead resting gently against yours, his hands never leaving your skin as he let you come down from the intensity of it all.

When your breathing evened out, he eased back slightly, only to cup your face in his hands, studying you like he wanted to memorize every detail. “You’re incredible,” he said softly, his tone so sincere it made your stomach flutter.

He pressed a final kiss to your forehead before gently lifting you off the desk and carrying you to the couch nearby. Settling you down carefully, he grabbed his discarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders to cover you, his hands tucking it around you like a blanket.

“You just sit here for a minute, okay?” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’ll get you some water.”

As he moved, you watched him, still processing the shift between you. His touch, his care—it wasn’t just about power anymore. There was something more in his actions, something that left you feeling exposed but safe at the same time. When he returned with a glass of water, he crouched down in front of you, offering it as he met your gaze.

“You did so good, baby,” he said, his voice steady, soothing. “Take a sip, then tell me how you’re feeling.”

You took the glass from him, your hands still trembling slightly, and drank. The coolness steadied you, and you looked back at him with a small smile. “I feel… better,” you said softly, and his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“Good,” he said, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You’re stuck with me now.”

The stillness in the room is thick, but it’s not the same kind of quiet that lingered before. There’s a weight to it now, a softness that wasn’t there before. Your breath still comes in slow, measured pants, your body still humming with the aftermath of everything that just happened. And when you finally meet Chan’s gaze, it’s different. The cold, calculating eyes that used to watch you like a pawn are gone. In their place is something deeper, something raw, as if he’s seeing you for the first time—not the daughter of his enemy, not the reluctant ally, but the woman who’s now standing beside him.

He doesn’t speak immediately. He watches you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before his lips curl into a slight, barely there smile. It’s a smile you’ve never seen before—tender and full of meaning, and for the first time, you don’t feel like you’re walking on a knife’s edge. You’re standing with him. Together.

“You know,” he finally says, his voice rough from the tension that still lingers between you, “this was never supposed to happen.”

Your heart skips at the admission. It’s the truth, in a way, but something about it sounds different now. This isn’t about power, about taking down your father’s empire. It’s about him, about both of you, and where this path will lead.

You don’t say anything right away, just allowing the moment to settle between you. But you feel it—the pull between you two is no longer one of distrust or forced obligation. It’s deeper, rawer, like a shared breath, an unspoken vow.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want something like this,” he continues, stepping closer to you. The space between you is no longer an obstacle, but a mere formality. “But now that I do…”

His words trail off, but you don’t need him to finish. You can feel it. The shift is clear. It’s in the way his fingers brush against your skin when he reaches for you again, in the way his hand lingers on the back of your neck, his touch grounding you in this new reality. His eyes lock on yours, and you see it: the commitment, the understanding that this isn’t just about a partnership in the mafia anymore.

This is something more.

“I’ll burn the world down for you,” he says, his voice a low promise, the words more than just an empty vow. You see it in his eyes—something ferocious, something dangerous, but also something fiercely protective. “And I’ll build something better from the ashes. Together.”

You feel the weight of his promise settle in your chest, and you know, without a doubt, that this isn’t just about power or loyalty. This is about you and him—two people who’ve been through hell and come out the other side, now bound by something deeper than either of you had expected. He’s not the man who kidnapped you anymore. He’s the man who’s willing to sacrifice it all to protect you, and you feel the same stir inside you.

“I’m with you,” you say, your voice steady, the words solid and final. “No matter what comes next.”

Chan’s gaze softens, just a fraction. He leans in, and for the first time, you don’t hesitate. You meet him halfway, your lips pressing together in a kiss that feels like both a beginning and an end—an affirmation of what you’re both willing to sacrifice, of what you’re willing to burn to the ground to create something new.

The moment stretches, pulling you both in. There’s no going back now. The line between enemies and allies, between loyalty and love, has blurred completely.

But just as you feel the full weight of that, the door to the study bursts open, and Changbin steps in. His eyes dart between you both, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he clears his throat.

Chan doesn’t pull away. His arm remains around you, pulling you closer as though marking you as his own in front of anyone who dares to challenge it.

“We’ve got a problem,” Changbin says, his voice low. The urgency in his tone cuts through the charged air in the room.

You and Chan both turn your attention to him, the shift between you more than obvious now. The world may still be watching, may still be demanding your attention, but for the first time, neither of you cares. You’re in this together now. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it side by side.

“Tell me,” Chan says, his voice firm, the weight of leadership back in it, but this time, it’s different. There’s a certainty in him now, a man who knows exactly who he’s doing this for.

Changbin hesitates, but only for a second. The message is clear. Whatever consequences are coming, they’re coming fast. But whatever it is, you know that with Chan by your side, you’re ready.

“Get ready. We’re about to make a bigger move. And this time, it’s not just about us. It’s about everything.”

You glance up at Chan, the unspoken understanding passing between you. You’re no longer two people caught in a world of shifting alliances. You’re partners, bound by blood and fire. And the world better be ready for what’s coming.

The door closes behind Changbin, and for a moment, you and Chan just stand there. The tension in the room isn’t gone, but it’s different now. It’s no longer just about survival. It’s about what you’ll burn for each other.

The future is uncertain, but for the first time, it feels like you both have a hold on it.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[bleach-your-panties]

ᰔℊℯ𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓉 𝓅ℴ𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃' with GIYUU TOMIOKA @ the mechanic shop.

for my 1500+ ᰔ𝒻ℴ𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓌ℯ𝓇 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉. requested by @rheawolf.

ᰔfem reader. giyuu and reader are married. modern au.

ᰔcw: pwp, public sex, against the wall, exhibitionism?

ᰔdividers by lovely rhy @/hitobaby.

ᰔwc: 1.3k

#💗💗🍡°taglist: @enchantedforest-network @kakushino @punkgibsons @darkstarlight82 @bakugosbratx @chifuyuskoneko @honeybleed

Once again, you let a loud sigh escape between your lips, prompting Giyuu to look over at you.

"What is it?"

His sapphire blue eyes were like the ocean on a calm day as he gazed down at you.

The two of you were currently seated in some creaky, aluminum folding chairs while the mechanic tinkered underneath your family SUV.

"Giyuu, honey, we've been here for a while now. Are you sure that this guy knows what he's doing?"

At the mention, said man slid out from under your vehicle and swiped his forearm across his forehead, effectively smearing it with oil.

"So I think I've found the problem. You said you've had trouble with idling?"

The mechanic, whose nametag read "Hotaru" regarded both you and Giyuu with his eyebrows drawn together while crossing his veiny forearms across his chest.

You nodded,

"I was getting ready to go drop the kids off at school when I noticed that the engine would cut on, idle for a few moments, then shut off. I tried cleaning the valve, but the issue persisted."

Hotaru nodded, "I see. Well if that's the case, it could be a number of problems, then. I'm going to have to take another look."

Your eyes bulged,

"Huh?! Another look, but we've already been here for three hours?!"

Giyuu's eyes moved from you to the long-haired mechanic.

"Maybe we could come back tomorrow? It is getting a bit late." He reasoned, in a much calmer tone than yours.

"If you come back tomorrow, that'll put you at the end of the queue. I'm quite a busy man, you know."

"What!!? Why you-"

Before you could start going off on the man, Giyuu took hold of your hand into his and rubbed your knuckles gently to calm you down.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I texted Tsutako earlier to pick up the kids from school if we ended up running over time. It will be alright."

He moved his hand to your lower back and gently guided you back to the row of uncomfortable chairs.

----

"They could at least put a couch in here." You grouched. Giyuu chuckled softly.

"Needy thing, aren't you? We should be home soon; I doubt it'll take another three hours."

You whirled in your chair to face him, propping one leg up over the other.

"What if it does, though? I just might die."

He leaned forehead and brushed away a lock of your hair.

"Behave, yeah? We'll have the whole evening to ourselves since Tsutako has the kids."

The thought of a free night with your husband made something primal stir within your core. It also didn't help that he had on one of your favorite outfits right now.

Dark-washed jeans, simple black sneakers, a black t-shirt, and a blue and black plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing his tattooed forearms.

You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and settled your left hand onto his thigh. Your silver wedding band caught the pale-yellow overhead light, making it gleam.

"Something wrong, lily?" Giyuu asked, shifting his eyes to where your hand rested on his pants.

Your eyes moved from him to the mechanic, who was tinkering with something under the car and mumbling to himself.

"I don't know if I can wait until we get home..."

Seductively, you lowered your eyes before blinking at him long and slow. Your fingers began to rub circles into his thigh, making a soft sigh escape from his slightly parted lips.

"Right here? Right now?"

Giyuu questioned, immediately picking up your implication.

You nodded. "Please, Gi? I promise I'll be good."

He froze for a moment, his own eyes trailing over to the mechanic now.

The man was completely occupied by his task, him making little comments to himself about what he should try next; plus, his entire upper body was underneath the car.

Giyuu then looked past the waiting area and into a small hallway where he assumed there might be an office and a bathroom.

"Come on."

He grabbed your hand and you started cheering inside your head.

Just behind the wall leading into the hallway there was a little corner with a vending machine and water fountain.

Giyuu pushed you up against the wall next to the vending machine and started kissing your neck. You wrapped your arms around his upper back and tangled your fingers in the ends of his dark ponytail.

His own hands rested on your shoulders before moving down over your breasts, stomach, and into your pants.

Skillful, calculated fingers jerked them down your hips along with your panties. The knuckle of his left index finger slid up between your folds and collected a trail of your slick.

"Damn, you're this wet already? You really wanted this, huh..."

He pulled back to look at your widened, lust-blown eyes and pouty lips.

"Want you, Gi..."

Who was he to make you wait any longer?

He tugged your pants and panties the rest of the way off your legs and circled his arms around your lower back.

"Jump."

You did as he commanded and he held you against the wall with one arm circled around your back, his body pressing you into the cold, painted-bricks.

He used his other hand to pull his own pants and boxers down to rest underneath his balls, freeing his cock.

Lifting you higher up the wall, Giyuu angled his cock up so you could sink down on it. Immediately, a loud whine left your throat.

"Shh, you want him to hear you? Hmm, maybe you do..."

He then hooked his arms underneath your thighs, holding you with the crease of your knees in the crease of his elbows and spreading you open before beginning to bounce you along his thick, hard cock..

"Ahh, Gi!"

"Crying already? We just started, baby."

Your back pressed further against the bricks, running from his dick and nails digging into his shoulders.

Giyuu's thrusts had you sliding up and down the wall with nowhere to run.

He pressed his entire body weight on you and started fucking at a quicker pace, one knee slightly bent forward and almost touching the wall as he gave you swift, deep strokes.

At this point, you'd nearly forgotten that you were in a public place where anyone could walk in and see you, but you couldn't be arsed to really care with Giyuu filling you up so well.

You tried to hold onto him as best you could, hands moving from his shoulders and grabbing hold of his messy black hair in an attempt to ground yourself.

"Are you close? Talk." He stared at you with those deep blue eyes and hit you with another hard, deep thrust before pushing his face into your neck to lick and kiss it.

"Yes, Gi, I'm-!"

He felt your body shudder and decided to finish you off by pushing you up even higher against the wall and dropping you down on his cock, making you cum and squirt your release all over him.

----

Giyuu and you exited the bathroom and met the mechanic, Hotaru, in the hallway as you were heading back to the waiting area.

"I managed to fix the problem, so you should be all set to go."

He handed the bill to Giyuu, who took out his wallet to pay.

"Wait -wait a minute, let me see that?"

You gently took the piece of paper from your husband's fingers and scanned your e/c eyes over it.

"What is this: $300, for an inconvenience fee?!"

You crumpled the bill up in your hand and shook it at the mechanic's face.

"Yes, an inconvenience fee. For making me listen to the two of you fuck while I fixed your shitty car."

----

a/n:*I apologize if giyuu's ooc, haven't seen him in a while :< but i ended up posting this on his birthday!:D

get it poppin! 💄event ©bleach-your-panties 2024. do NOT steal, copy, repost, alter, or upload my works onto other sites. comments appreciated. reblogs always welcome.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is he's deeply in love with his wife who likes to be adventurous in the bedroom. And the bad news from the mechanic? He'd actually rather not mention that to you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal play, anal sex, fluff, mentions of mission details

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Bradley! What did you do?!"

Your shitty little car's center console was loose, propped up by Bradley's booted foot like it was on a hinge. If he moved his foot up, the whole thing went with it. "I didn't do anything," he replied, removing his foot and letting the large piece of your car interior settle back down like he was completely innocent here. 

You reached up from his lap and moved the console with your hands, and you gasped at the result. "You destroyed it!" Then you lifted it up higher and turned back to him with flashing eyes. "I can see the ground through the gigantic hole in my car!"

He winced. If you were upset when your car ended up in the shop last year while he was using it, you'd almost certainly be even more pissed off because of this. "I'll take it to my mechanic on Monday. He fixed it for you last time."

You nodded with some uncertainty, but you wrapped him up in your arms and kissed him. "Yeah... he fixed it last time. I'm just happy you're home. I made Marry Me Rooster and birthday cake for you." Bradley was practically panting at the feel of your fingers pushing back through his hair again. "And we can relax all day tomorrow." 

For the first time in a week, he felt calm and sated. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off a bit, and right now he was exhausted. It was nearly midnight. His birthday was almost over. But if you wanted him to eat dinner and have cake with you at one in the morning, he would. 

"Let's go home," he whispered. With one more kiss, you opened the back door and climbed off of his lap. When Bradley went to follow suit, he hit his head on the door frame and nearly landed on his face. "Fuck," he grunted, rubbing the top of his head. Great. Your car was poised and ready for revenge. He was going to offer to drive just in case there was something truly wrong with the thing, but he was a little afraid. He asked anyway. "You want me to drive?"

You just gave him a look. "I think you've done enough, Roo. And even though I love you, my car does not."

"That's fair." He kissed your forehead and yawned as he walked around to the passenger side. The engine started up for you without any issue, but it took you and him both pulling on the shifter to get it into reverse. And then your car made a horrible loud noise as you backed out of the parking spot. 

Bradley had a very bad feeling about this.

-------------------------

It took you twice as long to get home as it should have. Your car sounded like it was begging for mercy every time you so much as tapped the gas pedal. It was a strage, loud whirring sound, and Bradley was looking at you with big, innocent baby cow eyes. 

There was a gap between the center console and the floor of your car, and you wondered how on earth he managed to push on it hard enough to rip it clean off like that. It was almost comical. You husband was huge, and he'd apparently put all of his size into fucking you just right. 

You laughed as you pulled into the driveway next to the Bronco. "So you're not too mad?" he asked quietly as he helped you push the shifter again.

"I'm not mad," you promised. "Your mechanic can fix it next week. We'll just need to share the one car until then."

Bradley leaned in to kiss you and said, "I will take care of it, Sweetheart." 

Once you made it to the front door, his lips were all over your neck as you tried to unlock it. He was being sweet and soft now even though you were sure he could tell you were flustered with need again. Even the rough fabric of his duffel rubbing against your leg was almost too much. "I love you," he murmured against your earlobe as you finally pushed the door open. But you could tell he was tired, and you weren't the only one who was excited to see him. 

Tramp came bounding out onto the porch, whimpering and whining as Bradley knelt and got his face licked. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he told the dog as he carried him inside. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Tramp kept running to his leash and begging, but Bradley said, "I'm not taking you for a walk in the middle of the night. We can go tomorrow."

"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so excited to feed your husband when it was so late. But you made a huge batch of Marry Me Rooster, and of course he insisted he wanted his birthday meal. 

"I'm always hungry for this and for you," he said, pulling you onto his lap at the dining room table. He took a bite of chicken and grunted softly, and you leaned in to kiss along his cheekbone as he chewed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he was going to need to rest tomorrow.

"You want to tell me about your super secret special mission?" you asked him while he ate. He took a few more bites and set his fork down with a sigh before he answered. 

His voice was careful as he said, "I really can't say much, even to you."

Your eyebrows shot up and your hands shook a little as you played with his hair. "Was it successful?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, which took the chill out of your body. "We had to... aid in hostage retrieval."

"Oh my god," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his chest and snuggling against him. You knew better than to ask for any more details than that. If the stakes were that high, no wonder he came back a bit of a needy mess. You could just imagine him on the aircraft carrier after completing his flight, adrenaline thrumming through his body. You rubbed your hand along his side as he finished the rest of the food on his plate.

"Thanks for my birthday dinner."

You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're home. Do you want to save the cake and your present for tomorrow?"

"Please." His voice was soft, and his eyes closed against the feel of your fingers. You led him to the bedroom, taking the time to dig his toothbrush out of his duffle so he could get ready for bed. His new notebook was in there as well, and you flipped through it to see that he'd filled about a third of it up with his writing. But you could save that for later. 

You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it in the hamper as Bradley walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Ready for bed?" you asked, standing there completely naked. He just examined every inch of you, his eyes taking you in. It never really occurred to you to be self conscious around him, and when he brought his hand up to rub his cock through his boxer briefs, your lips parted on a soft sound. 

He slowly raised his left hand which was hanging at his side, and as soon as he pointed at the bed, you were in it. Bradley stepped out of his underwear and left them in the middle of the floor, his hand wrapped around his cock as he climbed right on top of you. "Yeah?" he rasped with a grin. You supposed even through his exhaustion, he still had a little left in the tank for you, and you couldn't help but smile up at him. 

"Yes." You spread your legs wide, and he buried himself inside you, uncaring that he'd filled you up barely two hours ago and left you a mess. He was doing it again, and he was doing it oh so well.  

"Missed you," he whispered, the snap of his hips making you moan. "Missed our bed and your body and your pretty face." You watched as he took his silicone ring off and tossed it aside while he fucked you. Then his lips dipped down to your breasts before they found his wedding band where it rested against the front of your neck on your chain. 

He fucked you until he came, kissing and licking the ring, bucking his cum deeper inside you with his eyes closed. You rolled him onto his back and sat up with him still buried deep. He was all soft smiles and comically boneless limbs beneath you as he stroked your thighs. "Can I have my ring?"

You reached for the clasp of your chain and slid it past your pretty charms. Then you secured your necklace once more before reaching for his left hand. You slipped it on his finger and kissed him there as he caressed your cheek. But his eyes were already closed, and he was sound asleep by the time you went to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

-------------------------------

When Bradley opened his eyes, his stomach was growling so loudly, he thought that might have been what woke him up. He was so damn comfortable, finally back in his own bedroom. "Baby Girl?" he rasped, wanting to just go back to sleep, but needing you with him. 

Then he noticed the absolutely delicious smell coming from the kitchen and groaned. His stomach was growling so much, it hurt as he climbed out of bed and stretched. He found you a moment later cooking pancakes and bacon while sipping some coffee in his old UVA shirt. Tramp was on the floor begging his little heart out. When you saw Bradley you smiled, and he wrapped himself around you from behind, enveloping you in his arms. He could tell you were still fresh from your shower, and Bradley couldn't get enough.

"Are you hungry?" you whispered as he kissed along your neck. 

"Starving," he replied, stomach growling loudly. "And I missed you in bed."

You rubbed yourself back gently against his naked body as you said, "You can rest and eat all day today. We've got nothing planned. I thought I'd feed you breakfast and let you take a long shower and then a nap."

He sighed next to your ear, feeling completely relaxed. This was all he really needed right now. You and he had worked on every little detail of your marriage until you were on the same page about what was important. The successful completion of Operation Loophole had him feeling pretty good about going back to base tomorrow. But today, the only thing he wanted was you. 

You sat perched on his thigh as you finished your coffee while he ate. "What did I miss here while I was gone?"

"Just Jake almost fucking things up completely," you replied, biting into a piece of toast. "Oh, and I'm trying to get Bob to move in with Maria."

"The fuck?" he asked with a laugh. "As in, Bob would move into your old bedroom?"

"Yep."

"Sweetheart. Your old bedroom? We did some fucking  nasty stuff in there together."

You erupted into laughter. "He doesn't need to know that."

Bradley looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm sure he already does."

"Poor Bob." You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Do you want some birthday cake for dessert?"

"I get dessert after breakfast?" he asked, somehow perking up even more over this perfect homecoming.

"You get whatever you want for your thirty seventh birthday," you replied as you stood and headed for the kitchen, letting Bradley see a peek of your gorgeous ass beneath his shirt. And in that instant, it was the only thing he wanted. He groaned and let his head tip back. 

"Fuck." His heart was beating a little faster as he thought about tasting you there, touching you and fucking you there. You'd let him put his mouth anywhere he wanted last year on his birthday, and during your honeymoon, he'd enjoyed that particular part of your body again. But his cock was twitching, and now he was kind of mad you'd just proverbially offered up anything his horny heart desired. Because he was going to have to ask you for it. 

There was no way you didn't notice he was half hard when you walked back in holding a confetti cake with your other hand behind your back. "Oh. My favorite. Thanks." His voice was bland as you set it down in front of him before pulling a lemon cake from behind your back. 

"I was just messing with you with the confetti cake," you said with a laugh, bouncing back into the kitchen again. This time Bradley landed a little smack on your ass that left you giggling and looking at him over your shoulder in surprise. "I said the confetti cake was a joke, Roo," you told him with a wink.

This time when you came back, you had one single birthday candle and a lighter along with two forks. As you stuck the candle in the lemon cake and lit it, he asked, "Are you going to sing to me?"

"Of course," you whispered, kissing his cheek before settling on his thigh, your hip grazing his cock. Then you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, licking and kissing along his scars as you sang to him like you were Marilyn Monroe and he was JFK. You were giggling and enjoying yourself, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but Bradley hoisted you up to straddle both of his legs as you finished singing.

You gave him a little squeak as you settled against his cock, and he got his mouth on yours right away. He ran his hand up under your shirt to where your Rooster tattoo was and caressed you there, but he was cupping your ass with his other hand. "Roo," you moaned into his mouth as he teased both of your holes. "You're still all keyed up, Daddy?"

"A little," he told you, surprised to find that he was again. He blew out his birthday candle which had burned almost all the way down, while he kept his fingers on you. 

"You want your cake or your present?" you asked softly. 

"Aren't you my present?" 

You smirked. "I got you something else, too."

"I want it."

When you climbed off his lap, Bradley reached for you, but you were already walking toward the bedroom. "Take a shower, Roo. I'll get it ready for you."

So Bradley stood under the stream of water, first cold and then hot. He was afraid to touch himself too much, because he really needed you. And his curiosity was piqued. What did you get for him? And why did you need to get it ready? 

Oh. He had asked you for another calendar. Another sexy pinup calendar featuring you, you and you. "Shit," he grunted, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the conditioner was out before turning off the water. He barely dried himself off before charging back into the bedroom. He was about to call for you when you popped up behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 

"Close them," you commanded. "And no peeking."  

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, going slightly crazy at your touch. You let go of his face, and he kept his eyes closed as you guided him by his shoulders until he was pretty sure he was standing in the bedroom doorway looking out into the hallway. Then you placed something in his hands.

He heard you cackle as you let go of him and said, "Okay, you can open your eyes and unwrap your gift, but don't turn around. 

Bradley had the pretty red and yellow wrapping paper off in a flash, and it fell near his feet as he moaned. He read the cover out loud. "The Bronco and Baby Girl." Oh fuck. He'd never make it through this thing. 

"Okay, now open it to January," you called out from behind him. He did, and it was a photo of you laying on the hood of the Bronco in the red bikini from the honeymoon. "Do you like it?"

"I fucking love it," he promised, his eyes roaming the high quality photograph. You looked like a real model, there was no doubt about that. "It's stunning."

You laughed and said, "Now look at February." He flipped the page and moaned at the sight of you sitting in the driver's seat wearing your skimpy red lingerie. "Now tell me which month you like better."

He flipped back and forth between the two before ultimately saying, "February. And it's a fucking shame it doesn't have thirty one days, honestly."

Your laughter filled the room and made him smile as he looked at March. You were wearing his aviators and little else. "You still like February?"

"Shit. I might like March the best now."

"How about April?" you asked, and Bradley was having a lot of fun with this game. 

"Oh, that's nice," he remarked at the photo of you bent over his tailgate. He was currently having an existential crisis over your ass, and this wasn't helping. 

"Why don't you keep going until you get to your favorite one, and then you can turn around."

"Alright," Bradley said, clearing his throat as he turned to May, which was one of you wearing the little dress you had on when you picked him up last night. You were laying on the backseat, and your tits looked like they were going to come free from the fabric. 

But when he turned to June, you were topless. You were sitting in the back on the tailgate with your hands tucked behind your head wearing nothing but the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. You were facing the side with your upper body turned toward the camera. Your back was arched, your tits were jutting out, and your nipples were hard. The photo also somehow captured the perfect shape of your ass, and it was quite possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 

"June," he announced. "It's June, Baby Girl. It's my favorite one." And when he turned around, you were on the bed posed exactly like you were in the calendar, but you were smirking. Because you knew him. You knew he'd stop on June. You knew he'd fucking short circuit over that particular one. And now it was right in front of him in real life. 

He tossed his calendar carefully onto the dresser as he inched forward, looking at you in those denim shorts at every angle as you bit your lip. "I knew you'd pick June," you whispered, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Then he ran his palm down along your spine until his hand was on your ass. 

"You know me so well," he rasped, climbing onto the bed with you. "Thanks for my calendar." He licked your right nipple before pulling your left one between his lips and sucking gently. You whined his name, and your hands were immediately in his hair. 

"You're welcome," you gasped your hips rolling as he cupped your pussy gently through your shorts. He worked the button open and unzipped them as he kissed his way up to your neck, and you asked him, "Any special requests, birthday boy?"

But you knew. Somehow you fucking knew. You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard and wiggled your ass at him until he pulled your shorts down and helped you out of them. And then that was it. You were bare for him. He ran his hands up your soft thighs and up along your butt. He kissed you all over before he got on his knees and leaned his body over yours until his lips were right next to your ear.

"I do have a request."

He felt you shiver as he bucked involuntarily against your core. "Tell me." 

You turned your head to look at him. His voice was a harsh whisper. "I want your ass, Baby Girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips back against him, nearly sending him through the roof. "What do you want to do?"

He kissed your cheek and tried to take a deep breath. "I want to do anything that you want to do. And if you don't want to do anything, then that's fine, too." He was panting as he kissed along your shoulder and your back, unable to stop himself from pressing against you over and over.

"Do you want to fuck me in the ass, Roo?" you asked so sweetly, he thought he was going to black out. "Because if so, you need to get the lube from the nightstand. And you need to go very slow. And you need to stop if I tell you it hurts."

"Holy fucking hell," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your tits and your belly. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He practically fell off the bed in his excitement. Other than using your toys, you and he had never done this together or separately, but he was ready to go. You didn't even look hesitant as you folded your arms on the pillow and let your head come to rest as you spread your legs a little wider. "It's like your birthday tradition now," you said with a little laugh as he dug around for the lube. 

"Wonder what you'll let me have next year," he asked, kissing your lips before climbing back on the bed with the small tube. He needed to calm down, so he angled himself to get at your pussy with his mouth from behind. Within seconds, he had you gasping for him, and his mustache was soaking wet. He licked you up and down, swirling his tongue around one hole before slowly dragging it to the other. Your hips were held firmly in his hands as you rolled back against him for more pressure, crying out when you let you have it only on his terms. 

"Bradley!" you whined. 

"Shh," he whispered, licking along your pussy with a grin. "On your birthday, you can have whatever you want."

You were going to be tight. Even as he painted you up with your own wetness, and worked the tip of his thumb into your asshole, watching the stretch with fascination as you groaned his name, he could tell. He grunted as he flipped open the lube and coated his cock with it, never taking his lips off you.

"I'm so close," you moaned, pressing yourself back against his mouth as he played with your clit. And when you eventually came for him, he brought his slick hand up and worked his thumb a little deeper this time. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing your lower back and pausing. 

"No. Keep going."

----------------------------

It took Bradley a while even though you were relaxed from your orgasm. It didn't hurt, but you needed him to go slow so you could be sure of this new sensation. First his thumb. Then his cock. 

"Oh my god," you whined, your eyes squeezed shut at just how full you were. You could feel the cool drizzle of lube hitting your body before your husband's hands returned to your hips in the gentlest caress. The stretch was almost too much as he moaned and whispered your name behind you over and over again. "Go slow," you reminded him when his thrusts started coming faster, and he took care of everything you needed.

Bradley's words were becoming unintelligible. He said something about his birthday before he told you he loved you. The soft glide from the extra lubrication was aided as you flattened your back out, and then Bradley gasped, "It feels so good. Too fucking good."

When he pushed a little deeper, you grunted, ready to tell him that was far enough. But you didn't need to worry. You could feel him slowly easing back out of you until that foreign feeling of being filled to the brim eased up and then vanished. Bradley yanked your body up so you were standing on your knees in front of him. His sweaty forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he panted and vigorously jerked off, his hand working along his cock between your body and his. 

"Sweetheart," he moaned as he coated up your back and butt with his cum. "Fuck. Fuck!" He felt him run his hand through the sticky mess before he wrapped his big arms around to the front of you.

"Did you like that?"

He took a few deep breaths before his lips and mustache were tickling your ear. "I love everything we do together. I love you."

You felt warm all over from his words and his body, and he held you tight for a long time just like that as he caught his breath. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, slipping off the bed and pulling you carefully with him. You didn't feel sore, exactly. You were just more aware of everything as you moved slowly. 

"No," you promised, shaking your head at him. He helped you pull on his UVA shirt before he carried you back to the kitchen. "I'm just a little tired. You wear me out more than my toys do."

He laughed as he set you down and took the leftover Marry Me Rooster out of the refrigerator. "I feel like your butt is for special occasions?"

Now you were laughing. "Like your birthday?" 

"Yeah. Like my birthday. Now let's eat together and have my cake and take a bath. Then maybe you can replicate the rest of the calendar photo poses for me to see in person?"

"Oh. You really liked that."

"I really liked that."

-------------------------

Bradley held you against his chest in the bathtub. It was late now, and the bathroom was lit by one single candle in the darkness as he sang to you. He was relaxed, soothed by the feel of your hand on his thigh, and when you turned and smiled up at him, he kissed you. 

"Don't forget, my parents are coming in a few days."

He'd already forgotten. The special mission and then coming home to you had clouded his brain and made him a little shortsighted, but not in a bad way. He loved your parents. "Right," he said with a nod. "Sounds good."

"And we'll have to leave earlier tomorrow morning so you can follow me to the mechanic."

He'd forgotten about that, too. Fuck. Your car was your favorite possession. Bradley truly did not understand the appeal, but you'd had the stupid thing forever. "Sure," he grunted, already nervous again. You nuzzled his cheek and then stood in front of him, and he leaned in to kiss along your ass while you giggled. 

Today had been perfect. Last night, too. Other than breaking your car, Bradley was just happy to be home. It didn't really matter to him that you'd given him a little birthday celebration and agreed to try something new in bed, being with you was the most important thing. You and he had spent a lot of time apart over the past year and a half, and he was hoping that the successful mission might help shape the trajectory of his career to make things a little easier in that regard. Especially if you did get pregnant on your own, or if a conversation about alternative options took place in the future.

Bradley eventually fell asleep with you draped across his chest. He read to you from his new notebook, but he skipped the pages about his dream where you were pregnant. It felt like too much for tonight. He turned the light off, and your hand found his tattoo like it was a magnet for you. Even though he was exhausted, his mind was swirling as he tried to fall asleep. 

Monday morning was a rush to get out of the house on time, and when you started your little piece of shit car on the driveway, it made such a distressing sound, Bradley almost insisted you get it towed instead. But you backed it out onto the road, and he followed you to his mechanic. 

"I'm scared," you told him when you dropped the keys off at the front desk. "It sounds really sick this time." He had to kiss away the crease along your brow.

"Let's just play it by ear," he told you, taking your hand and leading you back to the Bronco. He patted your ass in your uniform pants as you climbed in, and he buckled your seatbelt. "How are you feeling today anyway?" he asked with a smirk that you kissed off his face. 

"If you're referring to my butt, I'm a little sore," you told him, running your fingers along his scars. "But I'll be interested in the next special occasion." He climbed in with you and gave you sloppy kisses as you laughed. "Roo! We'll be late for work. I have a meeting with Bickel at nine."

"Aww, you can be late. Just tell him we were talking about your ass."

"Bradley," you snorted. "I will not."

He kissed you one more time before climbing off of you and closing the door. The drive to base was short, and you held his hand the whole way. He had to keep turning the radio volume up as you sang along badly, but you just kept getting louder with it. 

"You're a nightmare," he informed you when he parked and killed the engine. "And god, I fucking love you so much." The way you kissed him made him want to put the key back in the ignition and drive you home to bed. Your hand was just about on his cock in his khakis when you pulled away. 

"Gotta run!" He watched you stroll off toward the side entrance, waving at him coyly over your shoulder as he adjusted himself and headed for the locker room. 

Bradley's day was going great. He was happy to see Nat, and he was looking forward to having lunch with you if you could get away from your lab. But when he checked his phone around noon as he walked to the cafeteria, he had a new voicemail from the mechanic. He could see you in line for your burrito bowl as you chatted with Bob. He could practically hear you laughing as he played the message and cringed.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."

------------------------------

Oop. I can see the tears flowing already. Fix this, Bradley. Parents are visiting soon. So many things are happening soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

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@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

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@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

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@horseslovers2016

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@schoollover

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@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

[casualprincessbarbie]

That Is Disgusting Julian - Julian (Trailer Park Boys) X Fem!Reader

Summary: You do a carwash to fund Trinity’s next field trip fees, and your boyfriend, Julian likes what he see’s. Ricky is insecure about not being able to afford the fees though, and has a tough day.

Warnings: Sorta dirty talk and flirting. No graphic smut tho. Swearing. Silly fic ngl. Julian x Reader.

Word Count: 4305

***

“Ricky, you better come up with the cash for Trinity’s field trip by the end of the day,” Lucy said, pushing him away with her hand on his chest. Their daughter had a school field trip coming up and the fees were due in two days. Ricky was growing dope again to help support his family, but this batch wasn’t going to be ready in time. He gave up his attempt at funding the school trip and thought great, Trin will get the day off and we’ll just do crafts with her or some shit. This was not an acceptable answer for Lucy. The mother wanted her daughter to fit in at school and be ‘normal,’ as normal as she could be given her upbringing. Holding her back from attending the field trip would make her stand out as sheltered. Asking the school for financial assistance would be embarrassing and then some administration might be suspicious of Trinity’s home situation. “Don’t you understand, she needs to go on this field trip? It is really important to our little girl, so GET THE MONEY,” Lucy was trying to make him understand the stakes.

While Lucy and Ricky were bickering on the porch, you and Sarah noticed. The three of you were roommates, and that made the lot fee’s easier to cover. Instead of worrying about making the payments you were able to spend extra cash on more exciting expenses. “Sarah, we should check on Lucy,” you suggested after hearing the low shouts turn into yelling outside.

Very quickly you could tell what the conversation was on. Lucy was telling you and Sarah the other day about Trinity’s upcoming field trip. The one that Ricky was supposed to pay for. In fact, he had been told about the fees the month before. “Whatever Ricky, I guess you just want Trinity to do just as well as you did in school!” Lucy was upset at Ricky for failing to get the cash needed. It frustrated her even more that it seemed like he wasn’t trying very hard.

Ricky’s Confessional: Is it so bad if Trin wants to be like her dad? Eh either way, if she wants to do well in school she totally can. She’s like 10 but she’s 100 times smarter than Cory and Trevor. I’ll figure out a way to get the money though. Julian can help me rob someone or something.

“Ricky, I think you’re done here,” you told him, starting to nudge him down the doorsteps. “‘You’re done here,’ ‘you’re done, blah blah blah, you know what, you’re done Y/N. Fuck off, I’m trying!” You crossed your arms and let Sarah and Lucy get him off the property.

You felt bad for Lucy, and mostly Trinity. The class was going to a week-long camp to do a bunch of different activities. Trinity was supposed to go kayaking, which she’d never done. Everyone in her class was excited to go, making her figure that so should she. Thankfully, she was out with her friends at the playground while her parents were arguing. Your mind was searching for ways to possibly fix the issue. The little girl had an expectation by now that she was going kayaking, telling her otherwise was going to be heartbreaking. Sarah and Lucy were sulking while you thought. You weren’t going to let money get in the way of her going on that field trip, “Hey girls, I have an idea.” The other two women perked their heads up for a moment. “We can do a carwash today and tomorrow. It’s only 9 AM, so we can get set up by noon just outside of the park. A lot of cars pass through since the gas station is across the street,” you got excited yourself as you explained a plan. Your roommates were right on board as well. Sarah went, “My god, Y/N, you are a genius! If we’re wearing our bathing suits we can easily make a ton of cash. Trinity gets her fees first obviously, but if we make extra we can go shopping for once.”

Lucy’s formerly frowning face was brightened by your idea. She wouldn’t have to keep relying on Ricky for this money and her baby girl would get her school experience. “You used to do dancing at that ‘gentlemen’s club,’ right Lucy? We can bring the ghettoblaster and play some music. If we’re working we may as well have fun right?” Your plan was looking better and better as you three worked out the details. “Hell yes!” Lucy was a hundred percent down with the carwash.

While you, Sarah and Lucy were gathering all the tools you would need for the carwash, Ricky was asking Julian for help. “Trinity wants to go kayaking with her class on the field trip, but I don’t have my dope to sell yet. Julian, man you gotta give me a hand here. We gotta come up with 200$ by the end of the day. Lucy’s gonna freak if we don’t.” Julian loved Trinity like a daughter, so he wanted her to go to the camp. However, it was annoying that somehow Ricky’s failure was all of a sudden his problem. “Ricky, just calm down. We can sell some of the blunts we have from the last batch,” Julian was trying to get his friend to stop panicking. He knew the blunts wouldn’t be quite enough to pay the fees, but he’d eventually find a way to compensate. “Come on bud, just take a seat and let’s think about what else we could possibly sell, pawn maybe?” Ricky sighed and nodded his head as he went to sit down on the sofa.

Julian began to rifle through his cabinets for anything of value that would make him some quick cash. The phone started ringing. Ricky wanted to make sure Julian knew so he shouted, “Julian, JULIAN, JULIAN, SOMEONE IS CALLING YOU!” He picked up the phone with a cautious “Hello” and then realized it was you. “Hey Babe, what’s up?” Ricky was annoyed that it was you. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that Julian worshipped the ground you walked on and it was extremely distracting. You were the center of Julian's world now, and you were close with Lucy. “Jules, I can’t go out this afternoon, but after dinner would work,” you were letting him know that the lunch date you had set was a no-go. He was disappointed at first, but he was fine with it if he could see you later in the day. If it was later in the day perhaps he could get you to stay the night with him. He’d been meaning to ask you to, but it never happened. You were starting to wonder if he ever wanted you to stay over. “That’s cool, I’ll pick you up at 9. Can I ask what you’re up to this afternoon?” The conversation was going on painfully long for Ricky’s liking. He was rolling his eyes and imitating how he imagined you talking but without the noise. The frustration built up enough that he tugged on Julian’s classic black shirt and pointed at his watch once he was sure he had his attention. “You’re doing what? Sorry, you’re breaking up a bit. We’ll talk about it later Y/N,” he was able to say before hanging up. He wasn’t sure what you were saying, but it was something about a car getting washed, the gas station, and the girls.

As soon as Julian took the phone off his ear, Ricky grabbed it for him and plopped it back down. “We gotta sell those joints right fucking now-” he started panicking again, but Bubbles interrupted the man by letting himself into the trailer. “Hey boys, how’s it going?” He was being his friendly self as usual, but Ricky didn’t have time for smalltalk, “It’s going shit. Bubs, can you help Julian and I score 200 bucks by the end of the day? Trinity has a field trip coming up.” Bubbles agreed to sell the blunts with them and go through his shed when he got the chance.

Julian was glad Bubbles was on board, but got curious as to why he came over in the first place. “I came here because I saw your girls with Sarah putting up some fliers. Y/N was carrying a big ole sign that said ‘$18 & We’ll Wash Your Car.’ I was wondering if you guys knew about that. I mean I think it's nice-,” this time Ricky was interrupting him, “They’re gonna strip on cars?! I thought Y/N for sure was too much of a prude to do that but I guess I was wrong about her.” Ricky was impressed at first that the girls were being resourceful, but it bothered him that Lucy felt like she couldn’t rely on him.

Ricky’s Confessional: So I’m thinking, whatever, the girls can do their thing, but I’ll make more money than them by the end of the day. I’ll show them!

Julian’s Confessional: Y/N’s a clever girl, but sometimes she really shocks me. I’m not worried, but I just wanna make sure she’s safe and all. I’ll make sure I pop by sometime this afternoon to check.

“Guys let’s just gather our leftover blunts and then sell them to dumb college kids. Go now. Regroup at my place, then we’ll hit the road,” Julian directed his friends. Bubbles gave him a salute and went on his way. Ricky ran out the door and tripped down the stairs, “Fuck, fucking steps are always tripping people up. I think there’s a hole in my pants again. Bubs you gotta fix this for me later.”

By 11:30 AM, the first customer came to the carwash you, Sarah and Lucy had masterminded. It was an awkward looking boy that looked like he was in his post-secondary years. He handed you a. $20 bill and said to keep the change, so you girls got to work. “You’re welcome Jacob,” you all called out as he was driving away After he thanked you for cleaning the outside of the car.

You wore a white bikini top made of a knitted material on the outside of the demi-cups. The demi-cups covered less of your boobs than regular ones did, but it was cute and would probably serve the fundraiser well if you show a little extra skin. For bottoms, you had blue denim shorts on. They came up high enough that when you bent over enough, the bottom of your ass would show. Lucy and Sarah were styles almost identically so that you all looked like a cohesive team.

At one point, Randy and Mr. Lahey were at the gate of the park. “Good to see you guys working hard. Ricky could learn a thing or two about that,” Lahey said from the other side of the road. You didn’t want to encourage him, but you all couldn’t help but chuckle. Mr. Lahey and his assistant supervisor were whispering to each other frequently and looking over at you guys. No one could tell what they were saying, but the camera crew was able to catch a glimpse of the conversation’s audio. “Mr. Lahey, is this what you meant when you told me to wash down your car?” “Yes Randy. We can do some roleplay about this tonight if you’d like…”

The cars kept coming and at 2 PM you had made $60. “Sarah, Lucy, I’m relieved this plan is working to be honest. I wasn’t sure how much business we’d get,” you opened up with them as you were all working on the fourth car so far. Lucy spoke up, “I didn’t think it would be this good, but I’m super happy with this.”

You smiled and looked down again at the window you were scrubbing. As the afternoon went by you couldn’t help but think of your boyfriend. Earlier, on the phone you were hoping he would catch on to what you were doing and that maybe he’d drop by. Sarah could see you losing a bit of focus so she started cleaning beside you while Lucy distracted the driver for a while. “Y/N, girl, I know you miss Julian. You’ll see him tonight, so you have that to look forward to,” she encouraged you to lighten up. “I know, it’s silly. I secretly hope he comes by. It would be funner prancing around and all over his car than some weird guy I don’t really know haha,” you joked around. Lucy had been eavesdropping as she scrubbed the passenger door while leaning on it, “If he comes by he’s gonna faint seeing you like this!”

Meanwhile, a few blocks away, Julian was driving with Ricky and Bubbles to head home. They had sold the weed, but came up short of what they wanted. The quota was over double of what they had made so far and they weren’t sure where to go from there. Julian was tired of fighting about money all day and just wanted to go home. Then he remembered his talk with you on the phone and what Bubbles said. As he was pulled up to the park he could see Sarah, Lucy and you, Scrubbing a car down with sponges and then waving away the car you just washed. “Looks like we’re taking a short stop before home boys,” Julian said. Ricky was feeling more confident compared to how he did in the morning because now he had $55 to pitch in. It was a lot better than the initial zero.

Julian rolled down his window and tried to play it cool when his girlfriend approached. “What can I do for ya,” you asked with your upper body leaning down so you could see him better. “Just a carwash ladies,” he turned over to Ricky to grab the cash they had made. Ricky sat there with his arms crossed, pouting. Julian had to elbow him hard to snap him out of it and yank the money from him. After that moment he passed the $55 dollars to you with a smirk on his face. “Wow, you must be feeling generous today…” you commented, slowly putting the money into your bag, making sure Lucy saw how much the boys brought.

You and Lucy started on the windshield, with Sarah starting by the trunk. The sponges from the soapy buckets came out and onto the windshield of Julian’s Monte Carlo. Your knees were placed on the hood as you rubbed the sponge on the glass. Your chest on display for Julian as you lingered predominantly on your right side. When your sponge was running out of soap water, Lucy started scrubbing the other side. Once the windshield and hood were cleaned up, you progressed to the driver’s window and Lucy went to the passenger. As you washed down the window in front of Julian you made sure to put on a bit of a show for him. Even the sound of your boobs scraping up against his window as you leaned over to clean the top of his car was turning him on, so the sight riled him to a level he was having a hard time not rolling down the window and just grabbing you.

When you were done with the window and top of the car he did roll it down. It took everything in him to control his urges and contain himself. “d’you lean over like that for every customer?” You were now squatting down to clean the spaces below the windows. “Nah, just the handsome ones,” you assured your man. It gave him joy feeling so special to you. Julian gave you a low growl, and said “Good girl. I’ll make sure I show you later tonight just how much I appreciate this,” licking his lips for a brief moment.

Before you could flirt back with him you heard Ricky blurt out “Oh my fuck that is disgusting Julian. I’m right here, I don’t need to know how bad you wanna bang Y/N.” It felt awkward for you when Ricky said it like that. Maybe it was a bit too public. Luckily Sarah spoke up for you, “Ricky, shut up. It’s sweet. At least they like each other. You and Lucy have been flipping each other off through the window for the past 5 minutes.” She had a point. You didn’t see much of it because of Julian, but you caught them exchanging creative ways to say ‘fuck you’ in different unorthodox ways of sign language. Ricky had no retorts that would be able to properly stand up to you girls so he ended the interaction sticking his tongue out at you, Sarah, and then finally, Lucy. “Fuck off! BUT MAKE SURE THAT MONEY GOES TO TRIN’S FIELD TRIP!” He went off as Julian started driving away so Ricky couldn’t make the interaction any uglier.

Y/N’s Confessional: Jokes on him, we made over a hundred dollars today. So the $55 from them, plus tomorrow… that’ll easily cover Trinity’s fees.

Lucy and Sarah chimed in as you said that with a “Kaching!”

“Rick, why’d you start that shit?” Bubbles was upset because he didn’t like all the yelling. Especially if it was between his friends. Ricky tried to play dumb as if he didn’t just piss off everyone. Bubbles wanted an answer so he clarified, “it wasn’t cool to call out Julian for flirting with his girl.” He knew his behaviour was bad so he admitted to his two best friends in the world, “Okay, maybe, just maybe, I was slightly jealous that Julian has this good thing going, and I’m just over here fighting with Lucy all the time. I love her, but it does get tiring once in a while. Anyway, I’m sorry Julian.” The men all were tired from the day so they embraced in a group hug to clear the air officially. Julian let Ricky know, “Apology accepted, just don’t do that again,” as he patted his shoulder.

Ricky’s Confessional: Maybe I was being hard on them at the carwash. I don’t regret saying it though because they are all over each other and it is GROSS.

Julian’s Confessional: He said that?! I can’t believe him sometimes. You know, when he and Lucy go at it, the whole park can hear them. I’m not exaggerating, it wakes me up at least once a month.

Bubbles: Well, I kind of wanted to say to Ricky that he was being hypocritical about the PDA stuff, but then I would have to explain what that means. That’s too much work.

At 8:30 Julian drove over to your place. He was early, but it was because he was anxious. The carwash got him hot and bothered. His thoughts for the rest of the day were dominated by you in the bikini top and shorts.

After finishing the 6th car, you took a shower and got ready for the date. When Julian knocked on the door, Sarah and Lucy let him know you were still getting ready. Somehow he convinced them to let him into the trailer and find you. You were putting on lipstick as the door creaked open. Julian slowly stepped inside and hugged you from behind. He breathed in your scent after kissing your head. “Wanna grab your toothbrush and stuff. I don’t know, pajamas maybe as well,” he suggested. Oh my god, he wants me to stay the night! You realized. Trying not to reveal how excited it made you, you simply nodded and grabbed the essentials.

On the drive over to Julian’s trailer, you two saw Trinity walking with Ricky. That got Julian interested in how the work day was for you, “You girls make enough money from the carwash?” It made you proud how from one day you had all helped make Trinity’s field trip possible, “With the cash you guys gave us plus the cars we actually made the $200. Tips from customers sure helped.” Julian had his eyes still on the road, but he took his right hand and lightly slapped it on your thigh while he said “Well, you looked good while doing it. I'm sorry Ricky was being nasty. He says he’s sorry, it was hard for him to see us flirting.” Although what he did made you annoyed, throughout the day it became funnier as you replayed it in your head. Being angry at him was too much effort so you already laughed it off.

“It’s fine. We were joking earlier that it’s him being salty he hasn't gone on a date in ages. Also, was Randy just rubbing himself on Lahey’s car like he’s a bear on a tree just now?” You turned to get a second look for a second as Julian started going faster. “If Ricky think’s we’re gross, I hope he sees that,” Julian wanted to wipe his mind from seeing the greasy shirtless man rubbing the car with his back side. You also wanted to unsee the sight, “Mr. Lahey was just staring and drinking his liquor, what a freak.” Your boyfriend also saw what you saw, but talking about it further would make it last longer in his mind. “Babe, let’s focus talk about anything else!”

“Oh yeah, so what are we doing tonight?” It was almost completely dark outside, and most places were closed. “I was thinking we could have a chill night. Watch some television and then go to bed,” could have been a lame suggestion, but being with the man you loved was easily enough to satisfy you.

When you were walking up his doorsteps hand in hand he waved off the camera crew to go away for the day. The night started with flipping through television channels for a couple minutes, but whatever you settled on wasn’t that riveting because you and Julian kept talking about random things. “So who came up with the idea today? Especially those outfits,” he questioned. Julian had you laid back with your head resting on his lap while he played with your hair. “All me Jules, did you like it?” You sat up a bit to get a better look at his expression. He was impressed with how you came up with it on the fly, but “Truthfully, as hot as it was, I don’t like the idea of other guys just getting to see that.” You weren’t going to brush off his feelings so you got up to sit beside him and keep watching him. He kept going with his thoughts, “I always want you to be safe, you know that. You’re like my angel though, so it feels like I should always be guarding you somehow. Right now, getting you all to myself is the best actually. I guess it’s silly.” Julian grabbed his glass and took a swig, not expecting much of a response from you.

“I have to do it tomorrow too. The sign and fliers included it so the girls wanted to make some extra money…” he was already nodding his head in defeat. “But, I think I know how to make it up to you,” you recovered the circumstances for your man. You had planned on getting some action that night, but now wanted to take it a step further. “This might make some people in Sunnyvale upset. I don't care though. I want you to make me scream Jules. Please, make me scream for you. Then everyone’s gonna know exactly who’s gonna be after ‘em if they give me the wrong look. Right Babe?” Now your legs were wrapping around Julian’s hips, your arms snuck their way around his neck and your face was dangerously close to his. “Anything you want Y/N,” he obliged with a dazed tone and his eyes locked on yours.

1 AM

Ricky was in his car when he first heard the rumbling from Julian’s place. The weather was warm enough and your bodies were sweating so you had cracked open the window, making the audible moaning louder to those around. “Fucking hell! Shut the fuck up you two! If you don’t quit it I’m gonna- I’m gonna, fine I’m not sure, but you gotta stop!” Ricky was demanding from outside Julian’s trailer. It was a taste of his own medicine but he wanted none of it.

Ricky’s Confessional: Y/N and Julian are like teenagers when they get together. I have no idea where it comes from but they’re just on each other 24/7. Like you would think they’d get tired, but no. There are breaks, and I’ll think it is finally over... but they’re still going.

Ricky was going back to his car telling the camera crew, “I think I can finally sleep now. No more ‘fuck faster’s for me to endure. I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow-“ he was sorely mistaken. “Juliannnn, it’s your turn to be on top I think big guy!” You called out. Ricky was pissed. He was hitting the ground with his hockey stick, raging. “Goddammit! What does it take for a man to have peace around here!”

11 AM

Bubble’s Confessional: Oh, I had no idea until you guys just told me about the noises last night. See, after Lucy and Ricky being so loud I make sure to keep some ear plugs next to my bed. I just block out the greasy stuff.

Julian’s Confessional: Last night was awesome. Can’t tell you what we did, but Y/N’s probably moving in soon.

Ricky’s Confessional: SHE’S MOVING IN?! No no no no, that can’t happen. I need sleep! They didn’t stop until Like 3 AM. Guys, I think I’m gonna have to start parking the car somewhere else if this keeps up.

Author’s Note: Man I don’t even know why this one got so long. I don’t mind it though. Hopefully you enjoyed!❤️

[darksigns-exe]

38. i want to see you - nick folio x reader

warnings: none

word count: 699

note: prompt list fic for my dear @deathblacksmoke <3 if you want a prompt list fic of your own, drop me a message.

prompt list by @nightprompts

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

You’ll never get used to going to bed on your own. You never sleep as well as you would when he’s at home. His side of the bed is so awfully cold, and you wonder what he’s up to right now. 

The band's only gone for a couple of days, he’ll be back by Sunday evening, but it’s still entirely too long for your taste. Nick had told you ahead of time that he wanted to visit a few friends while they’re out in Texas, and you really can’t blame him. They have so little time to be in one place. Still, you can’t help but wish that he was here instead. 

The house is entirely too quiet without him. 

You pull the duvet tighter around your body. It’s starting to get cold in and you miss his warmth. 

As if he’s reading your thoughts, your phone pings with a notification.

Can’t sleep. Are you still up?

He was so nervous before they left. Practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. Hearing that they’d open for Linkin Park out of all people had made you nervous, and you can’t imagine what it did to your poor boy’s brain.

You reply immediately. 

Can’t sleep either. Miss you :(

A moment later your phone buzzes in your hand and the goofy pictures your assigned to his contact lights up on your screen. 

“Hi baby.” you say quietly, laying your phone down next to you on your pillow. 

Nick lets out a content sigh, “Hi.” 

Even through the phone you can hear the nervous edge in his voice. You hate that you can’t be there with him. Sometimes you think that you should just quit your job so that you can come with them whenever you want. Surely, you’ll be able to find something that will allow you to work remotely. 

“How’s everything going? Are you ready for tomorrow?” 

“Rehearsal went really well. The place is massive. I don’t know if we’ve ever played a venue that big.” 

He drifts off into a rambling account of the last two days. The issues they had with the hotel, the horrible breakfast buffet and how Ruffilo had gotten lost in the bowels of the venue – twice. 

You love getting to hear what they get up to. 

Hearing his giggle sound from the small speaker makes your heart feel a little bit lighter. 

There’s a little lull in your conversation, and you think that sleep is starting to catch up with him. 

“I want to see you.” he says then, “Can I see you?” 

It’s entirely innocent, and you swear that you can practically hear the pout on his face. 

You can’t say no to him. Not when he sounds so sweet. 

You can just make out the outline of his face in the dimly lit room. 

His face lights up when yours comes into focus. 

Nick’s lying on his side, mirroring your position. And it takes you a moment to realise that he’s on his usual side of the bed, with the phone facing him from your side. It stings just a little bit. 

“I’m so excited to hear how things go tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll play your best show yet.”

You always tell him the same thing, because you know it’s true. They’re all just getting better and better with every show they play, and you’ve loved watching them grow from the tiny local venues to the big places they play now. 

Nick smiles when you tell him about your latest trip to the hardware store in pursuit of the right paint for your living room. 

The conversation continues to drift on, and you’re not sure who of you fell asleep first. Or when you feel asleep for that matter. All you know is that your phone is dead in the morning. 

When it finally has enough battery to turn on again, you find another text from Nick on your phone. 

Good morning thank you for staying up with me. I’ll call you later. Love you.

You’re more sure than ever before that you need to find a job that will allow you to travel without having to bend backwards to get time off.

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[chishiyaisasnack]

Shower time

Here’s a fic that I’ve been working on for a good while now and I’m finally content with posting it. It’s sfw even though it’s a shower scene. Mostly fluff (?) and a tiiiiiny but of angst.

Disclaimer! This story is based in the Borderlands and it mentions blood, wounds and trauma from it. It’s not about how they got injured, but more so very mildly describing that they are injured. I consider it sfw but it does contain nudity since they’re taking a shower, but I’m not describing bodyparts or anything. Also, small references to sex just for humor, but there is no smut whatsoever.

Oh, and the reader doesn’t know that Chishiya is a doctor.

I’ve written and am posting on mobile so I’m sorry for any formatting issues.

”I’m going to take a shower.”

With strong steps - actually more like a wobble - you walked into your room at The Beach, Chishiya following close behind you, watching your every movement just in case you would trip over your own feet, like you already had done about 30 times since you left the game area. It had been a rough one and it had left you wounded, exhausted and a bit lethargic. Not to mention the strain it had taken on your mental state, like the games always did, but you had turned off your feelings for now and had only one goal in mind: a long, warm shower to wash off all the remnants of the game.

”No you aren’t, it can wait until tomorrow.” Chishiya sounded like he always did, bored and condescending, but you knew that there was some worry in there somewhere. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to follow you all the way back to your room, offering to catch you when you’d eventually fall.

”I feel gross. I’m covered in … stuff.” Blood. You were covered in blood. You raised your arms to make your point clearer, in case he missed what an absolute mess you were right now.

”Fine. Come on then.” Chishiya sighed, walked around you, and went towards the bathroom while you stood confused, watching him open the door and look back at you before stepping inside.

”Wait, what?” you asked, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Why was he joining you?

With slow steps you followed him, wondering if he got the wrong idea. He was gorgeous, but sex was the last thing on your mind, especially shower sex. Didn’t he say that you were in no condition to even take a shower to begin with? You stopped in the doorway and waited for a response.

”You most likely have a concussion, you’re wounded and you’re exhausted. You’re going to collapse by yourself.” He turned on the shower and let the stream of water fall, waiting for it to turn hot.

”Okay, okay, doctor.” The smirk you got back confused you even more. Did he have a thing for being called ’doctor’? It wouldn’t suprise you, he was a mystery. But even him would surely have preferrences. Wait, why were you thinking about sex again?

You shook your head as you walked inside the bathroom, limping past Chishiya as he was making his way out again. Or so you thought. In the corner of your eye you saw him stretch, but it wasn’t until you turned around that you saw what he really was doing.

”Uhh, why are you taking your clothes off?” Your eyes widened as his hoodie hit the floor. He had no shame, appearantly getting naked with you without warning was completely normal in his world.

”I’m getting ready to help you when you realise that I was right. Don’t worry, I won’t join you until you ask me to. Which will be soon, so I’m preparing for that.”

You didn’t know if you should feel thankful or offended by what he said.

Chishiya however, smirked again, cocking an eyebrow at your dumbfounded look. He was enjoying this. While still looking at you he started to pull down his shorts. Your eyes were fixed on the pile of clothes he had created on the floor, which thankfully wasn’t added with more pieces since he decided to keep at least his boxers on. The daring look he had on his face when you turned your eyes back up was annoying. Did he like that you were looking at him? Not that you were looking at him like that anyway. You just wanted to take a shower. Or so you told yourself.

With his shirt and pants off he sat down on the toilet seat, turning around so that he had his back against you and the glass wall of the shower.

”Go ahead” he said, a hint of amusement hiding in his voice. ”I won’t look.”

”You better not” you huffed back at him, watching him carefully while you started to remove your own clothes, ripped apart and stained with blood. Instead of putting them in a pile you threw them straight into the trashcan. Once removed, you looked into the mirror over the sink and you almost gasped at how wounded you actually were. Cuts and bruises covered your arms, legs and back. Patches of your skin were stained red, even your face still had traces of blood left on it. You looked terrible.

Sighing, you stopped studiyng yourself and looked over your shoulder. Chishiya was still sitting with his back against you, shoulders rising and falling slow with every breath, the muscles of his back tensing when he moved. He looked soft. You wondered what he would look like wet.

No! This was not the right time to daydream about Chishiya and his pretty back, his blonde hair that fell in waves over his shoulders, those shoulders that probably would feel great to hold on to while your lips were… Oh, for fucks sake, just get in the shower y/n.

After disrupting yourself from your thoughts you made your way into the shower, closing your eyes as the water started cascading down your body. The glass wall seperating the shower and the rest of the room was conveniently half covered with frosted glass so that it covered most of your body, from your shoulders down to your knees, making you a bit less embarrassed over being naked in the same room as him. Being naked in front of someone when it wasn’t sexual wasn’t your idea of calming, and even though he had no shame, you still had. This was too intimate, too casual. But if it was what it took to take a shower then you’d do it. Even though you didn’t like to admit it you did trust Chishiya to treat you with decency and respect. He might be considered one of the people you shouldn’t trust in the borderlands, a bad person perhaps, but not bad enough to overstep someones boundaries like this.

”Let me know when you need me.” Chishiyas voice rang somewhere in the distance. Not even a ’if you need me’. He was too confident and it just made you even more stubborn. You were definitely able to take a shower by yourself, you were damned to not let him win this one, you told yourself while reaching for the soap. With unsteady hands (no, they absolutely weren’t unsteady because you were tired) you started to scrub the dirt off yourself, one part at a time. You hissed whenever you discovered a new wound you weren’t aware of and eventually the pain from it made you a bit dizzy. No, you could do this.

You clenched your jaw as you continued, slowly moving from head to toe, covering yourself with suds. Finally, everything you could see and feel was gone, so you let the stream of water fall over you once again, closing your eyes, enjoying the warmth that it gave. You felt your muscles relax, your breathing slowing down, your eyelids getting heavier…

”Chishiya…” you mumbled weakly, mad that he was right, again.

”I’m here.” A voice right behind you made you jump. You turned around and swung your fist towards him, ready to punch him out of pure panic, but he caught it before it landed on him. The borderlands had really done a number on you, you were constantly prepared for survival and appearantly even Chishiya was a victim of your anxiety. ”Calm down, it’s just me.”

”How long have you been standing there?!” You wobbled to the side as you tried to fight your bodys urge to fall onto the ground from the sudden movements. Chishiya steadied you by holding your upper arms, and helped you turn back around so that your back was facing him again.

”You moved slower and slower so I was ready when you called for me. I haven’t been standing here ogling.”

”So you have been watching me?” You didn’t even think about the fact that you probably flashed him completely just now. Well, if he saw something he didn’t care about it, which was comforting in this situation.

”Of course. I couldn’t see anything other than your head anyway. It wasn’t quite the show you think it was.” Chishiyas voice was dripping with amusement.

Once again, you didn’t know if you should be thankful or offended.

”Give me the schampoo bottle.” Chishiya asked, or rather commanded, reaching his arm out next to you so you could hand him the bottle. Once he got it you could hear him shake it before opening it and pouring out some of the liquid in his hand, followed by a low thump as he put it on the floor behind you.

Slender fingers moved over your hair, softly massaging it with his fingertips, giving you full body shivers from the way his fingers drew circles between the strands. It felt nice. Safe. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes again and just relish in the warmth radiating from his hands. He was so careful with how he touched you, slow and gentle while he worked his way through all of your hair.

A part of you wished that he would step closer so that you could feel the warmth from his body wrap around you, so that you could lean back and relax in his arms, just enjoying how your body would feel so at ease while being comforted, but you had no idea how to ask him for that without it sounding sexual.

”Shower head, please.”

You did as he asked and handed him the shower head, turning up the water pressure while doing so to make it easier for him to rinse.

”Close your eyes and bend your head backwards. Tell me if you feel dizzy.” Chishiya didn’t sound so stern this time. His words were soft and comforting, asking you to trust him. So you did.

He rinsed your hair in silence. One hand holding the shower head while the other one kept massaging your scalp, making sure to rinse out the schampoo properly. Even though you desperately tried to relax and just enjoy the feeling of being taken care of, you couldn’t stop your emotions from seeping back into your mind. Pictures of the game were flashing before your eyes. People screaming. Fighting. Lasers going off.

”Chishiya…” you whispered, no longer able to stop thinking about what had happend earlier.

”Mhmm..?”

”There was a child there tonight.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel the movements in his hands stiffen as he continued to rinse your scalp free from schampoo.

”I didn’t know that there were children here” you continued, trying to get the thoughts out of your head so you wouldn’t be tormented by them during the night. ”I thought maybe we were sent here to repent or something like that, that we were getting what we deserve. But why would a child deserve this? Even if we are all randomly sent here, without any reason behind why it’s us in particular, why would they choose a child?”

”…I don’t know.” He sounded emtpy when he answered, not that you were expecting his words to be comforting. They rarely were. There was a long pause before he spoke again. ”Did the child make it?”

”Yeah…” A shiver ran trough your body when Chishiya stopped rinsing your hair, already missing the heat from the water. Another thump came from the floor when he put the shower head down. ”Some of us worked together and protected him as much as we could.”

”Do you have conditioner?” he interrupted, sticking his hand out next to you so that you could hand it to him. You placed the bottle in his hand and watched him retrieve it. A click of the bottle cap was followed by another thump when he put it down on the ground. You wondered how many times he must’ve stared at your ass by now.

”Anyway,” you continued, shaking the image of him smirking at your butt away. ”That’s why I look like this. I took the hits for him.”

”That sounds like you.”

You hummed at his words. It was reassuring that you were considered to be a nice person, even in this hellscape.

Gentle fingers threaded through your hair again and you leaned into the touch. It went by faster this time since he didn’t need to scrub, although you wished he would keep doing this for hours. Every time he let go of you - this time to pick up the shower head again - the ache in your body took over, making you tremble ever so slightly even though the steam from the hot water was surrounding you. You were relieved when you felt the water against your back, contently closing your eyes and bending your head back into Chishiyas palm.

”I envy you sometimes.” Chishiya mumbled, so quiet that the sound of the water almost drowned it out.

”You do?”

”I wouldn’t have helped someone else if it meant that I would have to work for it, let alone get hurt from it.” Chishiya paused briefly, like he was choosing his words carefully. ”Especially not a stranger. You didn’t think twice about doing so.”

”I don’t believe that.” You cut him off before he got the chance to put himself down even more. ”You’re better than you think, Chishiya. Just look at what you��re doing for me right now.”

”I’m washing your hair, I’m not saving you from dying.” You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

”You don’t have to save me from death to help me. This is helping me. Besides, from the sound of your attempts to stop me from showering, I could die in here if you didn’t help me.”

”Maybe I just wanted to see you naked” Chishiya joked with such a monotone voice that anyone else would think he was serious, but you knew better. Well, if he was serious he had gotten his wish - paired with a fist coming at his face.

”Right” you snorted, too tired to laugh. A blush still crept over your cheeks, imagining his eyes on you in that way. ”Keep telling yourself that if that makes you feel better.”

”There” Chishiya ignored your answer and handed you the shower head. Cold air rushed to your skin as the water left it, leaving you almost begging for him to continue. Would it be so bad if you did?

”You can turn off the water now. I’ll get you some towels. Stay there.”

With a pout you put the shower head back into it’s place and turned off the water. Behind you, you could hear how Chishiya was gathering towels from a drawer, his footsteps making their way back over the tiled floor that would be cold and uninviting for your own feet in a second.

”Lift your arms a little.” You did as he asked and lift your arms halfway up, stopping waist high, only to see Chishiyas arms poking out from under them, holding up a towel that you thankfully grabbed a hold on and quickly wrapped around yourself to try to regain some of the warmth that the shower had given you.

”You’re safe to turn around now.”

”Thank you” you quitly replied as you gently spun around, just to be met by a still undressed Chishiya with his own towel hanging around his neck and a soft expression on his face. If you didn’t know better you would think that he was worried about you.

A smaller towel was in one of his hands - which soon landed on your head, covering your face at the same time. Your sour expression that was revealed as you peeled it off made him grin.

”Do you want help to dry it?” He asked, eyes shiny from amusement, and watched as you stubbornly started to squeeze the ends of your hair, too tired to lift your arms up and dry it completely.

”No, I’ll just put the towel over the pillow when I sleep. It’s fine” you replied, following his example and put your own towel over your shoulders. The chill in the air was starting to really get to you, and you decided that you couldn’t get to the bed fast enough. Just thinking about laying down, surrounded by warm covers, maybe even a pair of socks on your feet at first, burying your head on the pillow…

”The wounds on your back looked fine but I still need to cover some of them with bandaids. I need to examine your front too. Let me know when you’ve covered up so that I can check your arms, legs and stomach.”

Ugh, why did he have to interupt your dream about your bed with another naked request? You just wanted to sleep.

”I’m sure I’ll be fine Chishiya” you groaned back at him, slowly (and unsteadily) making your way past him and towards the bed. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, just a few more steps and you’d reach the doorhandle, that doorhandle that would open the gate and lead you straight towards the nice, warm, fluffy….

You groaned even louder when you felt a hand grip your arm, stopping your weak attempt to get out of the bathroom and keeping you still while Chishiya made his way around you so that he was facing you again. That calm face was back and you didn’t like it.

”Please, Chishiya, just let me sleep” you pleaded but to no avail.

”Come here.” You had no choice but to move after him, not being strong enough to even attempt to break loose from his grip on your arm, that was keeping you somewhat steady as you plopped one foot in front of the other until you reached the end of the bathroom. Then - lo and behold - Chishiya opened the door and led you out into the hotel room, making your way straight towards the bed. Right as he reached the foot of the bed he stopped and slowly turned the two of you around in a circle so that your back was now facing the bed, and then pushed you back so that you fell down on the soft duvet cover with a yelp. It felt like heaven to finally lay down, like a cloud was enveloping you and taking you with it to the land of dreams.

”Where are your underwear?” Chishiya once again interrupted your inner monolouge.

”Why? Wanna see them so badly even though you’ve already seen me naked?” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head to the side so that you could watch him dig around in a dresser until he grabbed the first, best pair of panties he could find and threw them at you.

”Put them on please, unless you want me to examine you naked. I’m fine with either way.”

You just huffed at him, secretly liking the playful look he was giving you. When he turned his back to you, you managed to shuffle around and get your panties on, just to let your legs fall back down onto the bed with a loud thump. God, you were exhausted.

”I’m done, doctor.” Once again, he reacted with a grin and you were now positive that he had some wierd doctor patient kink and that you were so going to make him confess that. A mission for another day.

Chishiya sat down next to your legs and reached over them to pick up a first aid kit you didn’t even know was laying next to you. Was he a wizard too?

You kept still, listening to the opening of packets, a liquid poured onto what you imagined was a cotton ball, and then your own hiss as he touched the first wound on your leg. It wasn’t the liquid that hurt, it was just the tender touch from the gauze he dabbed against your skin that hurt enough to make you wince. He must have started on a bad one.

”Try to keep still” he murmured gently, sounding like he was completely occupied with his task of tormenting you just a bit more before letting you sleep.

You stayed as still as you could, trying to concentrate on his hands and fingers working their way over your legs, dabbing it with the liquid, letting it dry, then putting a compress and some adhesive tape over it like a home made band aid. His touch was so gentle that it was barely there.

Your eyelids turned heavier with every touch of his fingertips and even though your wounds were stinging, his warm skin eased the pain afterwards and comforted you without knowing so. Before falling asleep you murmured a ”thank you.”

The last thing you remembered was the feeling of being enveloped in something warm, probably the cover that wasn’t underneath you and a soft whisper.

”You’re welcome.”

[bluerose5]

Heart-to-Heart

Summary: Davrin and Lucanis's relationship isn't the only one progressing forward. Davrin has a long-overdue chat with Spite.

A sequel to A Better Tomorrow.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,640

Tags: Romance, Prompt Fill, Fluff, Communication, Polyamory

Note: Prompt fill for @jtownnn and @afeleon276 for a conversation between Davrin and Spite while Lucanis is sleeping.

AO3 Link.

After settling into bed, Davrin didn't get much time for shut-eye before a certain someone woke him up.

For once, it wasn't Assan.

“Davrin!”

Okay, his voice was way closer than it should have been, Davrin fighting his first instinct to reach for a weapon as he peeked an eye open, Spite's face so close that their noses nearly brushed. Violet eyes glowed in the flickering shadows of his room. Spite grinned while he studied him, but Davrin wasn't smiling.

What he wasn't going to do was enable a demon's bad habits. What they needed were some—

“Boundaries,” Davrin said, his voice firm. Sitting up in bed, Spite jumped back when he shooed him off with a wave of his hand, Spite's brow furrowed in confusion. “We seriously need to establish some boundaries, starting with the fact that you can't barge into my room whenever you feel like it.”

Of course, Spite bristled at his tone, instantly defensive.

“But you said that I could come!” he retorted. Deep down, Davrin had a feeling that it was taking all of his willpower to hold back from stomping his foot. Spite's wings flared out for a brief second before they settled back into place, his feathers ruffled. “You said that we could talk!”

“That, I did.” Davrin wouldn't deny it. “And we will talk. After you walk yourself right out that door.” Narrowing his eyes at him, Davrin got to his feet and pointed in its general direction. “Then try asking for permission to enter my room this time.” He took a page out of Taash's book. Treat Spite like his own person, but don't let him get away with anything that would make others feel uncomfortable. Still, it felt almost surreal, talking to a demon like that. “Might I suggest knocking first?”

Off to the side, Assan watched them from his spot on the floor, bouncing up and down in place. Once Davrin said his piece, Assan gave a loud chirp in what Davrin thought to be amusement.

Spite looked towards him with a grumble.

“Yes!” he agreed, placing his hands on his hips in a way that was eerily similar to Lucanis. “He is bossy!”

Davrin rolled his eyes at them, even though he was more curious about the interaction in general.

“You can speak to him?” Davrin asked, nodding towards Assan. 

Spite blinked owlishly at the question.

“You can't?”

“We understand one another to some extent, but we don't actually speak to each other. It's more about us being able to interpret body language and different sounds,” Davrin explained, glancing between the two of them. “Huh, maybe I should use your expertise more often.”

Spite stood a little taller at that —well, as tall as he possibly could in Lucanis's body. He held his head up high and beamed at Davrin, practically preening in response.

“Don't think you're off the hook, though,” Davrin said.

That was all it took for Spite's face to fall, his expression scrunched up, but Davrin wasn't going to backtrack on his decision that easily.

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Out the door,” he instructed, giving a slight jerk of his head towards it. “Now.”

His tone left no room for argument.

Even Spite knew not to push his luck.

“Fine.” Snarling, he threw his hands up into the air, then marched his way right outside of the room. “Fine!”

Once he opened the door, he stepped out and turned around, ready to close it as Davrin ordered. However, Davrin could tell by the clench of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders that he wasn't looking to do so gently.

Concern coiled around his heart, his chest tightening.

“Don't slam it,” Davrin told him, his lips pursed. “Look, whatever issues you have with me are one thing, but Lucanis doesn't get enough sleep as is. If you wake him…”

Spite paused, hesitant.

He cocked his head to the side, staring into Davrin's eyes for a long, drawn-out moment while he processed what was said, caught off guard by the sentiment.

Whatever he found in Davrin's gaze must have sufficed because Spite nodded in agreement.

“I won't,” he swore. “Lucanis needs rest.”

That was the understatement of the century, but what was even more surprising was finding something that both Davrin and Spite could agree upon. Finding common ground was usually a good way to lay the foundation for a relationship, something Davrin would keep in mind when Spite was around.

It was even better in Davrin's book when their commonalities involved making sure Lucanis took proper care of himself.

“Yes, he does,” Davrin said.

Silence settled in the air, thick with an awkward uncertainty about where to go from there, so Spite took the opportunity to close the door.

Assan wandered up to Davrin's side, looking pointedly between him and the door, his eyes wide.

“Aw, come on,” Davrin huffed, standing his ground. “Don't look at me like that. I want him to do this one thing out of courtesy, and now I'm the bad guy?”

He might not have understood Assan as far as words went, but the squawk he gave told Davrin all he needed to know about what he thought of him at that moment.

Yeah, yeah, how dare he inconvenience his griffon's demon friend in any way? What a terrible man he was.

Although, it was interesting to consider how far everyone had come since the days when Spite tried to—

When he tried to escape through the eluvian.

Now, that gave Davrin an idea.

Drawing him out of his thoughts, Spite knocked, giving three sharp, solid raps of his knuckles that pierced through the room.

Davrin didn't hesitate to open the door. He leaned against its frame, staring thoughtfully at Spite, who stared back with curiosity swimming in his gaze.

When he started to shift restlessly in place, Davrin said, “Hey, if you can pull it off without waking Lucanis up, then what would you say to getting out of here for a bit?”

There was no ignoring how quickly Spite perked up at the offer.

“Really?” he breathed.

Davrin nodded.

“Yes, really. I wouldn't ask, if I didn't intend on following through.”

Taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, Spite glanced over his shoulder towards the rest of the Lighthouse, then back to Davrin, his expression shocked yet unsure.

“But the others—”

Davrin cut him off with a scoff, a brow raised in question.

“Are you going to tell anyone that we're leaving?” Davrin chuckled. “Because I'm not.” Spite instantly shook his head. “Good, then it'll be our little secret, yeah?”

“Yes! Ours. Our secret.” Spite grinned. “Let's go! Before he wakes.”

Squawking his agreement, Assan circled them, leaping around at their feet.

“Just remember to stay close,” Davrin warned, walking past Spite to take the lead. “Both of you.”

“Glad to,” Spite hummed.

His reply nearly stopped Davrin in his tracks, but Davrin couldn't let them see him falter. He continued on after only a slight stumble, even as his mind cycled through those two words over and over again.

Was he mistaken, or was Spite flirting with him?

It was hard to say for sure. After all, he wasn't an expert in spirits and demons beyond what his job called for. If knowledge of their behavior didn't serve to kill them quicker, then it was useless to him.

Or so he thought.

Nevertheless, they made their way to the Vi'Revas and snuck out of the Lighthouse together. Davrin had to shush Spite and Assan multiple times on their way to the eluvian to keep them from getting loud enough to disrupt the others’ rest, not that they did a good job of listening to him anyways. Their chattering was almost non-stop, so Davrin decided to cut them some slack once they entered the Crossroads at least. Only when they boarded the boat to set sail from one island to the next did Spite fall silent, those glowing, violet eyes trained solely on the Caretaker as the spirit ferried them away to their destination. Spite shifted in his seat, easing closer to Davrin's side, but the latter made a point not to mention it, even as confusion clouded his mind.

After they arrived, Davrin took the lead again, but all of them had explored the area enough to know the safest, quickest path that led them straight to Arlathan's eluvian.

Eventually, they pressed their way through the mirror.

And on the other side, they emerged in the Veil Jumpers’ camp.

Night had fallen, and guards were posted.

Good thing Davrin was familiar enough with their surroundings to guide them through undetected. He doubted that the guards would have any problem with him and Assan passing through. Spite, on the other hand…

How people would respond to a demon walking amongst them was always up in the air. It was better not to risk a confrontation, so long as they could avoid it.

Before long, they were beyond the Veil Jumpers’ reach, venturing deeper into the forest.

Away from campfires and torchlight, the moons and stars dominated the heavens. Looking out over Thedas, they cast a silvery glow down onto their subjects before them, twinkling brightly against the vast sea of darkness that formed the night sky.

Tree branches extended their hands up towards Thedas's moons in praise of those who brought light to their darkness. They waved back and forth with the same passion as the grasses that swayed around them, dancing along to the tune of the evening breeze.

Some of the local wildlife scurried about in the dirt underfoot while others darted about among the trees overhead, accompanied by the snapping of twigs and the rustling of leaves.

The entire symphony of nightly noise fell apart, however, as soon as their little trio passed through.

All fell silent.

The forest's occupants, even the trees, seemed to hold their breath at the sight of them, awaiting their next move.

When Spite stopped abruptly behind them, Davrin and Assan turned to face him, just in time to watch him freeze in place like a startled halla. His eyes widened, darting all around them with uncertainty. Every noise caused his muscles to tense and twitch in response, so his wings remained outstretched at his sides, ready to take flight at a moment's notice.

“Spite?” When Spite recoiled at the sound of his voice, Davrin held back a grimace. It was understandable for him to react that way, Davrin supposed. Not too long ago were he and Harding threatening to put Lucanis down if Spite so much as looked at them the wrong way. Now, Davrin had him outside of the Lighthouse with no witnesses around. Perhaps Spite thought it was a trick, and he had gotten in over his head without thinking. Either way, Davrin tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Hey, it's okay. I swear.”

Slowly, he held up a hand, then offered it out to Spite.

“Nothing is going to hurt you, not while I'm here.”

How ironic it was for the monster hunter to be the one reassuring the demon —who could very much tear people to shreds if he had the desire to do so— that he was safe. If nothing else, it was an olive branch, extended in good faith.

For a long while, Spite looked between Davrin's hand and his face, searching for any sign of deception.

About the time that Davrin was ready to give up, his arm starting to fall back to his side, Spite reached out and slipped his hand into his grasp. He didn't move a muscle then, his fingers stiff and his palm clammy against Davrin's.

Only when Davrin gave his hand a soft squeeze did Spite relax, returning the gesture in kind.

A little progress, but it was something, at least.

While Davrin led him forward into a clearing ahead, Spite looked around them and commented in a shocked, hushed tone, “It's so quiet.”

That was when realization hit Davrin like a punch to the gut.

Now that he thought about it, this might have been one of the few times, if not the first time, that Spite had been outside of the Lighthouse in this state without there being a fight or a battle going on. Surely, it felt different to be able to experience the peace that the waking world had to offer when he was the one in control instead of Lucanis. 

Davrin considered that until he caught sight of what he was searching for.

“Look.” Slowly, he guided Spite to a spot where they could sit and admire the view, Assan settling in at their side. For a single beat, there was nothing. Then, Davrin spotted it again. A flicker of light that floated past where they were seated. He pointed them out to Spite with growing excitement. Spite narrowed his eyes in concentration. “See? They're fireflies.”

“Hmph,” Spite huffed, even as his eyes glowed brighter with awe. “They're not made of fire, though!”

Davrin couldn't hold back his responding chuckle. Leave it to Spite to interpret the name literally.

“You're right. They're not,” he allowed, “but they glow like one, and they fly. Sort of like you in a way. I figured that you might like them.” More and more started to illuminate the air around them. Davrin watched them closely, unable to look away. “They're beautiful, aren't they?”

“Also like me?” Spite asked.

Well, that certainly wasn't what Davrin expected him to say, but Spite stared directly at him while he spoke. The intensity of his gaze bore into the side of his face, causing warmth to build under his scrutiny.

Really, all Davrin could manage to do was try and make light of the situation, wondering what Spite's angle was in all of this.

“Wait.” Davrin eyed him with a smirk. “Are you actually fishing for compliments right now? I thought you were Spite, not a demon of Pride.”

“No, not Pride. Pride is insufferable,” Spite protested, but he didn't press the matter any further, dropping it for now. Instead, he focused on the fireflies again, studying their movements with keen interest. Of course, Davrin should have expected what would come next. “Can you eat them?”

Never would Davrin have thought, when he first joined Rook's team, that their resident demon would have such a fascination with eating and smells. And it for sure didn't seem as endearing back then, as it was now.

“You technically can, but you probably shouldn't,” Davrin advised. When Spite's entire posture drooped, his wings included, Davrin was quick to come up with an alternative to satisfy him. He couldn't exactly blame Spite for wanting to try out new experiences in the waking world, but it would be best to do so in a way that was safe and enjoyable for everyone involved. “Tell you what, if Lucanis is okay with it, I'll make you a meal one night while he's sleeping. Something that's actually edible.”

Spite squinted his eyes at him, his head cocked to the side.

“Do you even know how to make food?”

That little shit.

“Excuse me,” Davrin scoffed, insulted, “why wouldn't I?”

He shrugged.

“Lucanis cooks. Bellara cooks. Even Harding cooks, but badly,” Spite explained. “I have not seen you cook.”

“That's because my style of cooking is more…” He trailed off into a hum, considering how best to phrase it. “Let's call it more rustic than what some of the others are used to.”

Or practical, maybe? He didn't exactly get this far in life without learning a thing or two about fending for himself. Davrin could confidently say that his food was good, but was it for everyone? Probably not.

Spite replied with a simple, “Ah.” He nodded, as if he knew what Davrin meant by that.

In all honesty, what better way to explain, than to show him?

“Trust me, you have nothing to worry about,” Davrin said. “Not only will I make sure you survive the experience intact, but I guarantee you'll enjoy it.” Already, Davrin was running through some ideas in his mind. Lucanis had a palate catered more towards Antivan food, but what would Spite like? “So, you clearly want to know more about what you can and can't eat—”

“Need to know,” Spite corrected him without missing a beat, picking at a blade of grass. “In case something happens to Lucanis. I need to know how to keep our body alive. So much here is not like home.”

Hold on. Was that really the reason why he asked all those questions? Suddenly, some of them didn't seem all that strange, given that context.

If it came to Lucanis's safety, then Davrin would rather he ask them, as he had been, than wrongly assume that a course of action was okay.

How could Davrin do anything but encourage him to learn more, knowing that? Better to be safe than sorry, as they always say.

“You know, I think that I have a foraging guide back at the Lighthouse. The only good it's doing me right now is stopping one of my tables from wobbling,” he joked. “I could probably teach you more about what's safe to eat out in the wilderness, based on my own experiences, but the book is a decent enough starting point for a beginner. Consider it yours, if you want it. Maybe some new reading material will make the nights go by faster for you. I'll give you your first lesson, though.” He reached out to tap him on the nose. “Not everything that smells good is edible.”

“So I can't eat you?” Spite scrunched up his nose at him. “Disappointing.”

“Ha!” That earned the demon a nudge to his side. “Very funny.”

“I thought so.” He stared down at his fingers, smoothing them out along the dirt, and Davrin swore that his expression turned almost… wistful?

The pieces of the puzzle were sliding into place, slowly but surely, the more time they spent together. While Davrin hadn't expected him to open up about the Fade so quickly, he knew a thing or two about what it was like to be homesick, and it wasn't the best experience to say the least, especially when there was no one around to talk about it with.

“All of this must be a big adjustment for you.” Davrin waved a hand around in a vague gesture. “Venturing out into the waking world.”

With his eyes downcast, Spite nodded, lips pursed.

“You don't seem all that excited about being in the Lighthouse, though,” Davrin observed. “One would think that you would feel at home there.”

There wasn't the slightest bit of hesitation when Spite shook his head.

“No. It's not home!” he protested. Violet light flared in response, his emotions stoking the flames. “It's a pocket. Kept apart. Part of the Fade, but different. Similar, but not the same.”

Unable to put his thoughts into words, Spite growled in frustration.

If there was ever a sign to tread carefully, then that was it.

“Is the Lighthouse more like this world in your opinion then?” Davrin asked, curious yet wary.

“No,” Spite repeated in a grumble. “Your world does not bend. It does not listen. Sometimes, mages can make it listen with practice. But in the Fade, it is effortless. As easy as breathing is for you.”

Allowing that to sink in, Davrin eventually followed up with, “You miss the Fade.”

Not a question, but a statement of fact. It was similar to saying that the sky was blue or the grass green. There was no doubt about it.

Spite's wings started to curl in around himself, but they seemed to think better of it at the last second, tucked in stiffly against his back while he sat up straight.

“People say that demons want to come to your world, but I never did,” Spite explained, surprisingly patient. “I didn't want to come here. I was happy before. Here, people want me dead.” He peeked over at Davrin with a sad smile. “You wanted me dead. Harding, too.”

“I can't speak for Harding, of course, but it's less so that I ‘wanted’ you dead, and more so that I was willing to go to whatever extent necessary, should you prove to be a problem. I might not encounter them often, but in my experience, demons aren't usually here to have tea and cakes with us lowly mortals.”

“Some spirits are bad,” Spite agreed, shifting in place. “Some spirits are good. Kind of like mortals.”

He had Davrin there.

“Fair enough, but I did what I thought was best at the time. I won't apologize for trying to protect others.”

“I don't expect you to,” Spite said. “You wouldn't be Davrin otherwise.”

How understanding of him. Truly.

There was a resiliency to be admired about someone who remained in a place where they weren't welcomed, existing there in spite of all the crap being thrown their way. Davrin couldn't keep track of all the villages he had been to, where the Dalish were viewed with suspicion at best, even from some of the elves in the area. A single look at his vallaslin would earn him a crinkle of their nose and a curl of their lips, up until the point when he revealed his profession. The second they realized that not only was he a monster hunter but a Grey Warden at that, their tunes changed entirely. Either they tolerated him, or they gave him a level of respect that he could have only dreamed of mere moments prior.

As if people's prejudice wasn't a big enough pain in the ass on its own, it was also tough to be away from home, having to learn almost everything new again on top of that. Even if he couldn't have predicted the consequences of his actions, Davrin could acknowledge that he did at least have a choice in the matter when it came down to leaving his clan, to leaving his home behind.

Spite, on the other hand, did not.

How easy it was for Davrin to forget, especially back when he first thought Spite to be an imminent threat, that even the demons were in the Ossuary against their will, according to Lucanis.

“Maybe we can get you back home one day,” Davrin offered, but the words left a strange, bitter aftertaste on the back of his tongue.

It was weird to imagine Lucanis without Spite, and Spite without Lucanis.

He tried not to linger on the thought for too long, because any discomfort on his part shouldn't stop him from doing what was right, if that was what Spite and Lucanis wanted.

However, Spite didn't jump at the opportunity, as part of him expected.

“I won't go. Not unless Lucanis wants me to.” Spite took a deep breath, held it, then slowly released it. “Until he departs from this world, I shall remain with him. Home is with Lucanis now. With Rook. And the others.”

“But not with me?” Davrin teased.

“Hmm…” With their not-so-subtle glow, it was impossible to miss how Spite's eyes lingered in his direction. In time, he said, “Assan is nice.”

“Damn, so you have jokes now? And brutal ones, at that.” Davrin chuckled, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Watch out, everyone. We have a real jester on our hands here.”

Amusement tugged at the corners of Spite's lips. He smiled to himself as he stared up at the endless expanse of stars winking down at them from above.

Davrin admittedly got distracted by the sight of him in all of his glory. His very own shining star in the darkness.

However, as he contemplated the demon that was Spite, Spite was busy contemplating the beauty of the waking world. His new home, for the foreseeable future.

Eventually, his brows knitted together, causing his forehead to wrinkle as a result. His once-awestruck smile flattened into a thin line, his jaw locked with tension.

Seeing him like that left no doubt in Davrin's mind why the Rivaini referred to him as a Spirit of Determination. He held his head high, each word filled with an unbreakable conviction.

“I will make life work here,” he stated. “Not because I have to, but because I want to.”

The passion with which he spoke took Davrin's breath away. Spending time together was starting to make Davrin a bit reckless. It made it all too easy to forget at times that Spite was still a demon, which only served to make it more difficult for Davrin to keep his distance. 

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his weight back onto his hands, “I can respect that.”

He stretched his legs out in front of him in the grass, and Spite copied his movements, his fingers brushing along Davrin's upon the ground.

Their eyes locked; and when Davrin managed a small smile for him, Spite beamed eagerly in return.

Davrin stared at him until Spite cleared his throat and averted his eyes.

It took him a minute before he remarked, soft and hesitant, “Lucanis… likes it when you kiss him.”

Unsurprising, really. The last time they kissed had been intense, to say the least, and they did have their talk about it as promised. The two of them decided to see how things between them went from there. They were progressing beyond friendship at that point, sure, but neither of them knew what to call it quite yet.

Regardless, “That's good to know, Spite, but maybe we shouldn't talk about Lucanis's feelings without him knowing about it first, alright?”

The man deserved to have his privacy, after all. If he wanted to share something with them, then he should be able to do so on his own terms.

“No fun,” Spite huffed.

Nevertheless, he nodded his agreement with a pout.

It was that pout of his that gave Davrin an idea, probably a foolish one, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

“Here.” He couldn't believe he was going to do this. “You decide for yourself if you like it.”

“What—”

Before Spite could finish his question, Davrin leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss upon his cheek. There was a sharp intake of breath as warmth radiated from his touch. Spite jolted in shock, but quickly recovered with a quiet whimper, melting into the kiss.

Davrin's lips lingered, grazing along the corner of Spite's mouth when he felt the air start to shift, Spite's wings curling around them.

With an appreciative hum, Davrin whispered, “Good boy,” and that was the end of that.

In the blink of an eye, Spite disappeared, his violet light snuffed out like a flame.

He vanished so quickly that it left Lucanis reeling in response, the Crow startled awake by Spite's sudden departure, struggling to regain his bearings.

Before he could fall face-first into the dirt, Davrin was there to catch him as he swayed forward. Lucanis shook his head back and forth with a groan, blinking past the dizzying remnants of his slumber, now wide awake for the time being.

“Davrin?” he muttered. He took in the sight of their surroundings through his growing confusion, attempting to reorient himself as much as possible. “Uhh… Not that I'm opposed to a good frolic through the woods—” Davrin snorted at that, bringing a smile to Lucanis's face. “—but where are we?” He pointedly peeked over in a single direction, raising an eyebrow at the scene he returned to. “And why is Spite freaking out right now? Did you break him?”

“I sure hope not,” Davrin chuckled sheepishly. “We decided that he needed to get out of the Lighthouse for a bit. Go get some fresh air, you know. I figured he could do with a change of scenery, so I brought him out to Arlathan Forest. Let him watch the fireflies, gaze upon the stars.” Before Lucanis could even begin to get worked up about it, Davrin rushed to reassure him. “Don't worry, though. He was on his best behavior. Nothing happened. Not even one escape attempt.”

“Heh. Try not to sound so disappointed.”

“What can I say?” Davrin swooped in to give Lucanis a brief peck on the lips, Lucanis instantly dragging him closer so that their foreheads could rest against one another, their breath warm upon each other's skin. “I do enjoy a good chase.”

“I'll have to keep that in mind,” Lucanis said, humming in delight when Davrin leaned in to capture his lips into a proper kiss this time. Their noses brushed when they parted, neither one of them wanting the moment to end. “You explained where we are, at least, but not why my demon is currently struggling to string together a single thought.”

Right.

“Yeah, about that…” Davrin didn't know exactly how much Lucanis was able to glean about the situation from Spite's memories and his mind, but honesty was key either way. “I did kiss him. On the cheek, I mean.”

Lucanis stopped for a minute to consider what this new development meant for them, staring off towards that same spot where Davrin could only assume Spite remained.

“Ah,” Lucanis responded with a nod, “now it makes more sense why he's acting like this.”

When he didn't elaborate further on the subject, Davrin pressed the matter, “Is that alright? Because if you're uncomfortable with any kind of affection or intimacy —no matter how big or small— without you being there, then say the word, and it won't happen again. It is your body.”

With a slow blink, Lucanis listened closely, turning the words around in his mind while Davrin spoke. He looked between Davrin and Spite, Assan happily snoring the night away nearby, and he smiled.

“While it is my body, yes, Spite and I are both sharing it for the time being. And since it doesn't look like that will be changing anytime soon, everyone needs to accept that the two of us are part of a whole now,” Lucanis explained. “If you want to explore your relationship with him as well, then I would not begrudge either of you that opportunity to do so. It would feel almost hypocritical to deprive you of each other's company now.”

Davrin had to admit, that came as quite the surprise.

“That's very… understanding of you.”

“Or practical, or perhaps a bit of both.” Lucanis shrugged. “Your clan is Rivaini in origin, are they not?” At Davrin's nod, Lucanis continued, “Then, surely this is not your first time hearing about such an arrangement with more than two individuals being, uh, involved.” For lack of better terms.

“Of course not.”

One of the most common relationship structures in Rivain was the triad, composed of the mind, body, and soul of a group. It was largely inspired by the Qunari concept of the Triumvirate, but the Rivaini's acceptance of multiple partners predated even the Qunari's arrival. They weren't opposed to such dynamics, so long as the group contributed to the happiness and success of both their own household and their community as well.

Honestly, it wasn't a surprise that the Dalish from Rivain incorporated such dynamics into their culture, too, focused on the wellbeing of both the clan and its members.

Even then, as much as Rivaini society welcomed spirits among them, Davrin didn't know many who would ever willingly enter into a relationship with one.

There was a first time for everything, he guessed.

Lucanis's voice fished him out of his thoughts, drawing his attention back to him.

“Good, because while I might not have firsthand experience being involved in such an arrangement, it is not my first time being exposed to the idea either. The Crows —or, rather, most Antivans, come to think of it— pride themselves on being rather flexible and open-minded about these sort of things,” he said. “It pays to be adaptable, after all. I'm fine with the three of us figuring things out together, so long as you two are.”

Yeah, this was definitely not how Davrin envisioned this night going when Spite woke him up earlier, but it wasn't an entirely unwelcome turn of events either.

This was new territory for all of them, so taking things one step at a time, figuring it out as they went? He had no problem with that.

“Sounds good to me,” Davrin said.

“Just one thing first, you two.”

At that, concern bubbled up inside of Davrin, chasing away even the smallest sliver of relief.

“What?”

“The kissing is nice and all, continue with that if you must,” Lucanis sighed, the corner of his lips twitching ever so slightly as he fought back a grin, “but do me a favor next time. Try not to wake me up.”

In place of a reply, Davrin burst into a fit of laughter, startling Assan awake, which earned a petulant grumble from the now-grumpy griffon, who soon started to swat away any remaining fireflies that dared stray too close.

Davrin could only imagine what Spite was saying to Lucanis on his end, the latter staring smugly off into that same empty space again.

However, as soon as Lucanis snuggled closer to Davrin, staring up at the night sky, Davrin swore that he felt an unnaturally cool breeze travel down along the opposite side of his body. A chill flowed through him, and goosebumps followed suit.

There was a deep-seated loneliness inside of him that splintered and cracked when faced with such a peaceful resolution to their night, allowing a sense of belonging to blossom from the empty shell it left behind.

Davrin pressed a lingering kiss to Lucanis's temple.

He inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of metal and coffee, and said, “You know what, you have yourself a deal.”

[witchy-girly]

𝐐𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𖤐 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐭

Ahh I’m posting my first story!! How exciting!!

★ Summary: What started as needing a quote for her job, leads to an interaction with Kirk Hammett that has some undeniable tension.

Warnings ⚠︎︎: None really, just some flirting!

The hotel lobby was nearly empty - just two security guards by the doors and a worker behind the desk flipping through the newest issue of Vogue. I should’ve been chasing Lars or James but both had disappeared somewhere, leaving me with nothing but a cigarette in my hand and an empty journal. I tapped my pen on the top of my journal, contemplating whether I should just leave and accept the fact that I was probably gonna get fired or wait around and see if someone showed up.

The clock on the wall behind me ticked, the only noise in the lobby was interrupted by two men coming out of the elevator. One of the men, dressed in very official attire rubbed his forehead, “Tell them they need to be ready to go to the airport by ten a.m. tomorrow. Let them know I’m fed up with their bullshit.” he said angrily, the other man just nodded, “I know where Jason, James, and Lars are, but I have no idea where Kirk is.” the other man replied. “Check the roof, he’s probably sitting up there with his guitar. But, Kirk will listen - make sure James and Lars get the memo.” the fancy dressed man said. My head shot up, Kirk was on the roof - I could get up there and get my story.

I didn’t even hesitate, I grabbed all my stuff and walked over to the elevator. I pressed the button to call the elevator down, once the doors opened I stepped inside and pressed the button to take me to the roof. The elevator was slow, like it didn’t care that I was in a hurry. Once the doors opened, the smell of rain hit me first. The roof was mostly covered, but a small part was opened, where chairs and tables were now soaked.

Kirk was exactly where I thought he would be, sitting on one of the couches with a cigar in his hand. “You lost?” he asked, his voice cracking from him clearly being tired. I stepped out of the elevator and slowly made my way over to him, my bag on my shoulder, my journal tucked into it. “I thought maybe you’d talk?” I asked, not a lot of confidence in my voice. He chuckled, “Not much to talk about up here.” The rain had picked up, fat droplets hit the shelter over the roof, and thunder rumbled in the distance. I just stood there, wondering who was going to break the awkward silence first. “I liked the show.” I said finally, not sure if I meant it. “It felt heavier than I expected.”

“Thats ‘Load’ for you.” he muttered, taking a small drag from the cigar. “Everyone thinks it’s some sellout thing. Doesn’t matter. We needed it.” he finished. “You sound like you’re defending it.” I said, he replied quickly, “I am.” His tone wasn’t defensive, just honest - plain in the way that most people aren’t when they know you’re here to write about them. I liked that. We stayed in the silence for a while before he finally glanced over at me.“

“You got a recorder, or a notebook?” he asked, I grabbed my journal from my bag. He motioned for me to come sit down. “I figured you weren’t in a talking mood.” I said as I sat on the other end of the couch. The corner of his mouth twitched - not a smile but close enough. “You always chase musicians onto rooftops for stories?” he asked, “Only the interesting ones.” I responded.

That got a real smile - “Alright,” he said, nodding to the notebook. “Hit me.” I placed my journal in front of me and grabbed my recorder from my bag, placing it between me and Kirk before clicking it on. “How are you feeling about the tour so far?” I asked, “Tired. But…not bad. It’s strange being in this new version of the band. It feels like we’re wearing new skin and everyone’s still waiting to see if it fits.” he replied. “You think it does?”, he shrugged “Some days. Depends on how honest I feel.”

I tilted my head, “And how honest do you feel right now?”

He looked at me then - really looked - and I felt it low in my stomach. That pause. That something.

“Honest enough to admit that I don’t care if anyone likes it, as long as it’s real.” I swallowed, suddenly aware that Kirk had turned his body and he was now closer to me than he was before. I pressed on, “Do you ever miss how things used to be? The old sound, the old image?” Kirk exhaled smoke through his nose, slow and thoughtful. “Sometimes, but theres only so much you can do before you start wanting something softer.”

There was a beat in that word - softer - like he knew exactly what he was saying. “You mean…musically?” I asked. His smile curved again, almost wicked, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

I clicked off the recorder, unsure if that was the end of the interview or the beginning of something else. The air between us was different now - warmer. I put the recorder back in my bag and tried to not look like my heart had picked up pace. “I don’t think thats a quote I can actually use.” I said, smiling enough to keep it casual. “That’s the problem with honesty” he murmured, “It usually makes shit complicated.”

The wind picked up, tossing a strand of hair across my face. Before I could fix it, Kirk reached out and gently tucked the piece of hair behind my ear, like it was nothing, like we’d known each other longer than a few minutes. His hand lingered for half a second too long. Just long enough.

I breathed in - smoke, rain, and something else that felt like static.

“You ever get tired of being followed around?” I asked softer now, “By people like me?” “Depends,” he said, watching me. “Most of them want noise. You… you’re quiet.” He said in a soft tone, “Is that a good thing?” I asked, he shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”

We sat like that for a moment, the sky above us grumbling low and distant, the kind of storm that doesn’t let go all at once. Kirk took one last drag, then placed the cigar in the ashtray in front of him on the table. He looked back at me - really looked back at me, his eyes were dark and steady. “You’ve got that look,” he said.

“What look?”

“Like you want to say something but you haven’t figured out if it’s worth the risk.” he leaned back against the couch cushion, putting his hands together and resting them in between his legs. I didn’t answer right away. Maybe he was right, maybe I did want to say something.

But before I could say anything, Kirk’s lips turned into that smile I had only seen once before. “If you want more… insights,” he said his voice low, “there’s a quieter room I know.” The invitation hung between us. I glanced back at the elevator, then towards him. I smirked, “You’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow.” I said, he raised an eyebrow, amused. “Will I be seeing you on that plane?” I shook my head and folded my arms, “Nope. I’ve got to stay here and work.” I replied. “Won’t you be working if you’re interviewing me tomorrow… just in other city?” His voice dropped a little, I caught his gaze and held it. “Guess you’ll find out.”

He smirked and reached into his back pocket, pulling out what looked like a crumbled piece of paper. “You got a pen?” he asked, I reached into my journal and pulled out my pen and handed it to him. He wrote something on the paper before placing it into my hand along with my pen. “My number. Incase you need me to tell you where to go tomorrow.” Kirk stood up from the couch and began to walk toward the elevator, I stood up behind him, staying by the couch.

He pressed the call button for the elevator, “Even if you don’t show up tomorrow, even though I’m hoping you do.. call me if you want anymore quotes, or maybe something else.”

“Smooth.” I said and let out a small laugh, Kirk smirked once more before stepping into the elevator and waving goodbye to me before the doors closed, leaving the night - and all of it’s possibilities - waiting.

[arrayoflightarchives]

Kagehina yap because I can't get them out of my brain even tho I need to go to bed bc I have a full day of lectures tomorrow,,,

(be warned yall that this is a long one, which is why I've put the big explanation under the cut)

Okay so Kagehina shouldn't be getting together before Brazil Arcc. If you wanna write them before then, go ahead I love a good bit of hs kghn or long-distance kghn as much as the next person. However, for their characters at the end of HS, I feel like they need to have the Adlers v MSBY match before they should be in a relationship:

The end of 3rd year:

At the end of their third year, Kageyama is still not fully open with Hinata, let alone anyone else. I'm not saying that you have to be completely open with everyone before getting into a relationship, but I think for their dynamic, he needs to learn to be more open with his emotions than he is at that point before you can have two personalities like him and Hinata in a relationship together.

At the end of third year, Hinata is still nowhere near Kageyama's skill level in volleyball. Again, I'm not saying that they need to have equal skill levels to be in a relationship however, Hinata does have a major inferiority complex about this specifically when compared to Kageyama and I don't think that, with he skill level he is at in 2015 (when they graduate). He can't catch up with Kageyama by becoming a skilled player in his own right without going to Brazil, we know this, but going to Brazil also develops his personality as well as his vb skills. He is now more confident and has learnt a lot and so he is able to be on what he considered equal footing with Kageyama (what he considered is the important part here bc of his issues with comparing himself to Kageyama, which we see the whole way through the story).

Now flip to post Brazil:

At this point, Kageyama has begun to open up a bit more by spending time with his teammates, mostly on Adlers, but you can assume JNT as well - we just don't see much of that bc Hinata is the protag, and he's busy sulking over Kags not visiting him atp. Like we can see this in small things like him showing Ushijima the photo of Hinata and Oikawa. He is now more open than he was in hs but he hasn't talked to (at least not much more than maybe like a couple two message interactions) Hinata in a couple years as far as we know. Because of their whole soulmate thing because Kageyama is still somewhat alone because of his skill level (see Kazuyo's promise)

At this point, Hinata is finally confident in his skill level, I mean, he was practically unknown and got into the MSBY D1 starting line-up. However, I think it's important to note that atp he has not beaten Kageyama so although he has definitely improved - he's earned the title of Ninja Shoyo, which is his own compared to the little giant (I can also yap abt that honestly) - he doesn't know whether he has caught up with Kageyama who, for all he knows could have improved just as much as he did in the time they were apart. Hinata might now have many brain cells, but he knows enough that it's silly to think that Kageyama has not improved at all while playing with the JNT and being in VL D1 since high school.

Post-Adlers v MSBY match:

Kageyama has now opened up. This bit is less about opening up to those around him (although he has, see "took you long enough") and is more about him being open with his own emotions. Obviously, he's not suddenly fixed years of emotional repression in one match, but he's chosen to open himself up to Hinata (see being happy/smiling at losing a match) and therefore also open with the audience (we finally see his backstory - that idea is not mine it's from this post it's rlly good u should read it). At this point, I feel like he is ready to have a healthy relationship with Hinata while still working through his other issues. He isn't going to be magically perfect now, but still, he's at a maturity point where he would be able to be in a relationship with someone as competitive as him and Hinata are together.

Hinata has now won against Kageyama. He now knows and feels confident with his skills as a player of his own right and worth, and so now his competition with both people like Hoshiumi and then especially with Kageyama is not going to be him seeing himself as the small junior high version of him who got beaten in 30 minutes still trying to prove himself, but the amazing Ninja Shoyo who is an amazing all-rounder and a wing spiker (the position he's wanted to play in order to be ace which he didn't get a chance to play before). He has grown as a person already while in Brazil, but this win is simply confirmation that he has done what he went there to do. He can trust that he made the right choice to leave Kageyama and the trust and dynamic that they had created (which was a major worry of his through the first part of the Brazil arc - with the homesickness and seeing Kageyama in the Olympics) and is better for it. this game proves it all to him, and he can welcome Kageyama and a possible relationship with him now that they are equals, rivals and a team at the same time.

Finally, onwards:

We finally see that they are together, whether you want that to be as teammates and best friends/platonic soulmates or as romantic soulmates it's up to you, but we see that they have improved both in vb and in their relationship together (see one of my fav panels to ever exist with their fist bump in JNT uniforms).

They are on the same team together, except stronger, when they go to the Olympics together. And then when we see after that, they still have a strong dynamic with them both declaring they're going to win in the Ali Roma v ASAS São Paulo game which makes me think that they keep in contact a lot better than they did while Hinata was playing beach - only bc there seems to be less of the tension that is there when they meet before the MSBY Adlers game.

Anywaysss that pretty much concludes my yap on why they shouldn't get together until after the Brazil arc. I could probably say a billion more things about this, but this was the best way to get any sort of coherence from me about this. I will probably do more yaps so if people want, feel free to ask me questions in my ask box or in the notes!!!!

(Also I hope yall appriciate the colour coding, I chose the purple over the blue cause I felt it was more Kageyama coded, at least on my phone it is)

[novankenn]

Crazy meet... Depressed

Harley Quinn: So... um... I guess you're my next appointment?

Spider-Man: I... I guess I am?

Harley : You guess? Are you here for therapy or not?

Spider-Man: Well I don't know, I mean I probably could use it, but I can't real afford it, and besides who would want to help me? I mean my ex married another men while I was trying to save her from an alternate dimension and is now getting chummy with my former bully.

Harley : Okay there's A LOT to unpack there.

Spider-Man: I guess.

Harley : First off... um who are you?

Spider-Man: I'm Spider-Man.

Harley : Spider-Man... you're not from Gotham are you?

Spider-Man: Where's that?

Harley : Okay. So you're not a local, but you look like a Super-Hero. Do you have powers?

Spider-Man: Yes.

Harley : Okay, so IF you have powers...

Spider-Man: I just told you I have powers.

Harley : Then WHY are you so worried about other people? I mean you are you. They are them, you only control yourself, and you are NOT responsible for mistakes or errors in judgement they make.

Spider-Mann: But with great power comes great...

Harley : Nope. Going to stop you right there.

Spider-Man: Huh?

Harley : Yes, having powers means you should TRY and do the right thing, but you remind me of another hero... Batman...

Spider-Man: Never heard of him.

Harley : Seriously?

Spider-Mann: Yep.

Harley : Well that's beside the point. What I am trying to say, wanting to help people is great and all, but focusing on that aspect of your life over all other parts is unhealthy and is self-destructive.

Spider-Man: But...

Harley : There are not buts! Tell me are there other heroes where you're from?

Spider-Man: Yes.

Harley : Then let them pick up the slack and take some me time. Get yourself in a good place, before you truly spiral.

Spider-Man: Makes sense. So I should take a vacation? Start meditating?

Harley : HELL NO!

Spider-Man: Then what?

Harley : Let me introduce your to a Harley Quinn proven self-help and self-esteem booster.

Spider-Man: That's a baseball bat.

Harley : Yes, yes it is. And do you know what you do with it?

Spider-Man: Hit things?

Harley : Exactly.

Spider-Man: So I should go out to a batting cage and...

Harley : No. No. You see things can also include people... so...

Spider-Man: Are you telling me to...

Harley : Yes. Find the ones, good or bad that are causing you so much doubt and self-worth issues, and?

Spider-Man: Hit them?

Harley : Exactly.

Spider-Man: I don't know. It seems to be a rather... unethical method of treatment.

Harley : Who is the Psychiatric Doctor here?

Spider-Man: You?

Harley : Right. Now I'm prescribing a treatment for you. I expect you to follow through with it. So starting tomorrow you go to a sporting good store, pick out a bat that... speaks to you...

Spider-Man: ...

Harley : And then go out... and let all that stress free... understand?

Spider-Man: I guess...

Harley : This is not a guess or not treatment. Do you understand?

Spider-Man: Yes.

Harley : Good. So what are you going to do tomorrow?

Spider-Man: Go get a bat that speaks to me... and then hit stuff?

Harley : Good. Now what is included in the broad definition of stuff?

Spider-Mann: People who are stressing me out?

Harley : Perfect. So our time is just about up, so on the way out arrange for a follow up visit three days from now. I want you to come into that session ready to tell me how you found the treatment.

Spider-Man: Okay?

Harley : Perfect. Well see you in a couple days Puddin'