#either almost hidden gentle touch

[homicidalbrunette]

Wanna touch but mustn't touch but okay gentle sneaky touch

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.

or

it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.

or

“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”

warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!

i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.

Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.

It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.

ii. you break, i mend.

Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.

The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.

Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.

He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.

‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.

Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.

He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.

The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.

(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.

“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.

Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.

(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.

By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”

The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.

(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.

“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”

Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.

Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.

It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.

Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.

“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.

The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.

Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.

“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.

“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”

She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.

“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.

“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.

Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”

Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.

Saints.

It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.

The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.

“Are you with me?”

No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.

It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.

“None of that.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. It’s okay.”

The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.

“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.

“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”

“I know.”

A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”

Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.

It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.

“If you break, I mend, remember?”

(mend

BREAK)

Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.

Saints be damned.

Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.

iii. a raven and a crow

The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.

He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.

It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.

“Inej?”

“Good.”

Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.

“Jes?”

“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.

He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.

The goods are safe.

“Nina?”

“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.

There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…

His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.

Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.

And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.

(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.

And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.

There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.

Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.

Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.

“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.

For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.

She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”

Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)

“You’ve got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”

His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.

“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.

Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.

(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.

“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.

Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.

“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”

“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.

“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”

(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”

He pouts.

“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”

He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”

Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.

“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.

It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.

He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”

It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.

“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.

“A raven?”

“Yeah.”

Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.

Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”

Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.

And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.

(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”

Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.

“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.

Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.

(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”

Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.

She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”

(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.

“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”

“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.

“You know it’s true.”

He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.

Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”

And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.

Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.

“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”

The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.

“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.

(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.

“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”

Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.

“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.

“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.

(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”

It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.

The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.

R.

A Raven.

No fucking way.

He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.

Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.

(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)

iv. a broken lock and a key

Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)

(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.

After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.

He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.

Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.

On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.

So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.

It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.

Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.

“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”

(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”

And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.

He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.

She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.

“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.

He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”

“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.

“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.

“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.

“You’re gonna keep me company?”

Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”

She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.

It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.

Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”

(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.

“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.

“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.

There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.

She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”

He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”

“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.

And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”

He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.

To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”

His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.

“What?”

There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.

“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.

Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.

v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.

As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.

“Did you finally figure it out?”

He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.

“What?”

She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.

“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”

Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”

“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”

“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”

“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”

Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?

“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”

He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.

“Yeah.”

“Actually?”

She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.

“Got the documents to prove it, too.”

Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”

“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."

Jesper understands.

He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.

Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.

“Lovers, huh?”

(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.

“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”

[bluejutdae]

Stray Kids + handjobs

Warnings: nsfw, roleplay, “mean” 2Min, the usual

Chan: he loves a good ol’ handjob, especially if you’re perked up on his lap, soft hands around his length. He always tries to be quiet, at first, biting his lips to avoid making noise, clenching his jaw on a particularly delicious up stroke, but you know him well by now, so you pull all the tricks you know to make him lose it and he can’t keep it quiet. His hips start trying to thrust up, stopped by your weight on him, and his hands grab your hips or your thighs, squeezing almost too much. When he comes, is with a choked moan, face hidden smushed on your tits.

Minho: so so so mean even when you’re pleasuring him. He pretends he is unaffected, your hands on his cock are almost an afterthought. His eyes are drawn to his phone, focused on reading something. You both know he isn’t actually reading, he just likes to rile you up, to see how long it takes you to make a complaining noise, a mean rebuttal, a pleading request - depending on your mood. The only clue that he’s just as affected as you are, are his ears, so so red. When he cums, he bites his lower lip, bunny teeth digging into the plush part. He kisses you, dirty and fiery, and then he tells you to clean him up 😏

Changbin: please have him naked and so pretty so pliable so delectable, sitting between your open legs in front of a mirror, his back to your chest. He starts sweating a little as soon as you put your hands on him. He likes to be jerked off slowly, softly. Pleasure builds up gently and it’s so intimate and so soft, until it’s not. Until the gentle stroking is not enough anymore, but he’s too worked up for anything faster, anything tighter. He whines and whines, trashing, legs kicking and hands trying to stop yours. A firm “tsk tsk” and his hands are off, fists clenching the sheets. He keeps staring into the mirror, watching your hands work his cock and his balls, a few tears fill his eyes and he comes with a sweet prolonged moan. He slumps, pitting even more weight on you, trusting you to hold him, and turns his head to kiss you and he’s so so sweet. God, sweet Bini boy makes me feral

Hyunjin: he loves when you help him with your hands but he can’t keep his hands for himself. He needs to undress you, needs to grope your tits, needs to put a hand into your panties and touch you. Handjobs with Hyune always end up in mutual masturbation, both panting and too close too warm too frantic to really put effort into what you’re doing. You end up grinding down on his fingers and he ends up rutting in your fist. It’s always the same story, and you love it any time…

Jisung: You said desperate whiny Jisung? Spit dripping from his mouth because he can’t even connect his brain to close his mouth? Fist loosely wrapped around yours to help your movement? Yes. He’d spit directly on his cock to make everything sloppier, messier, wetter. What he maybe loves the most is when, just after he cums, you keep jerking him off. He’s over sensitive but the pain-pleasure leaves a delicious electric feeling in his spine.

Felix: with him I see it either sweet and soft (cuddled on bed, hands reaching into his underwear just to make him feel good, breathy moans he leaves directly on your neck, trying to express how good you’re making him feel by leaving soft, wet kisses on your skin) or something a bit kinky (I can see him setting the camera so that it films him only from his chest up, starting the live and talking to Stays like you’re not currently squeezing even more lube on his head to make the slide a little easier. He talks loudly, puts on music to mask the filthy noises all that lube is making. His cheeks get a little red and he makes a joke about summer being insufferable, you twist your hand on his cock head a little too meanie and he tries to hide his groan behind a too-fake cough. When he’s too close, he pretends to drop something so he can bend and hide from the live for a moment, kissing you while he lets go and covers your hand in cum).

Seungmin: Seungmo loves roleplay, okay? He’s the mean Professor making you jerk him off for a better grade. He’s completely dressed, only his cock out of his clothes. He makes you kneel in front of him, making you almost taste him, but not letting you. You don’t deserve to put your mouth on him, not yet. He always tries (and fails) to appear unbothered, but the truth is that he’s too smitten with you to make it even seem real. Halfway through it, he helps you get on your feet because he needs to kiss you, he can’t cum if you don’t kiss him at least once.

Jeongin: semi public sex IS Yang Jeongin. He grew up in front of cameras, you can trust him to be aroused by the thought of cameras catching him. Too often, the adrenaline rush of a concert translates into arousal and it’s even more heightened by knowing that, if anyone would look too closely, they’ll see he’s hard in his clothes. As soon as he sees you, he kisses you and drags you to the closest hiding spot, he grabs your hands to put them on his bulge. When you laugh at him he pouts. It’s so funny to see him like that, all the blood leaving his brain to concentrate on his cock. “Don’t laugh at me” he says, but you laugh again cause he’s too cute too hot, but your hands are already unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans to fist him fast and see him lose a bit of control thanks to you.

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ unspoken !

↳ logan howlett x reader

laughter fades as you both slowly realize how close you've gotten. your faces are inches apart, your noses almost touching. the air between you is thick, electric, as if every breath carries a question. you can feel his breath, warm and steady against your skin, and for a moment, the entire world falls silent. the noise, the distractions, everything else just disappears, leaving only the two of you in this quiet, suspended moment.

logan doesn't move, his gaze locked on yours, searching. you can feel the weight of his presence, the tension that’s been building between you for weeks now. the tension that’s always been there, ever since you both first started spending time together. it’s always been there, but now it’s different. now it’s right in front of you, right on the edge of something new.

you try to steady your breathing, but it’s hard. it feels like your heart is beating louder than anything else, and it's impossible to think straight. your mind races with thoughts of what this means, of what could happen next, but you can't bring yourself to move. neither can he. you both hesitate, waiting for the other to close the gap, to make the first move, but neither of you is brave enough to take that step.

it’s a strange feeling, standing this close to him, so close that you can feel the heat of his body. your fingers twitch, aching to touch him, to close that last little bit of space between you. but you stay still, afraid of what might happen if you do. afraid of what might change.

logan shifts slightly, his jaw tightening, his eyes flickering away for a moment. you can see the internal struggle, the fight he’s having with himself. he doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence, but he doesn’t want to back away either. you can feel it, that tension in the air, the unspoken understanding between you both. you’ve been circling around each other for so long, never quite touching, never quite crossing that line. but now it’s here. now it’s right in front of you.

your fingers move before you can stop them, reaching out, brushing lightly against his arm. the touch is so subtle, so gentle, that you almost think it didn’t happen. but you feel the shiver that runs through his body, the slight flinch as if he wasn’t expecting it. his eyes snap back to yours, and for a moment, everything else falls away again. it’s just you and him, standing there, waiting. waiting for something.

he doesn’t speak. he doesn’t need to. you can see it in his eyes - the raw, open uncertainty, the vulnerability he usually keeps hidden beneath the tough exterior. it’s a side of him that’s rarely shown, but it’s there now, just as clear as the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. there’s a hunger in his gaze, but it’s not just physical. it’s something deeper, something quieter. something you’ve felt for so long, something you’ve both been avoiding.

you can’t take it anymore. you can’t stand the space between you, the unspoken words, the what-ifs. you close your eyes for just a moment, gathering the courage, and then you lean in. it’s slow, tentative at first, like you’re waiting for him to pull away, but he doesn’t. he’s still there, still close, and his breath hitches when you move even closer. you don’t know who moves first, but then, just as you’re about to close the distance completely, his lips are on yours.

it’s soft, hesitant at first, like neither of you wants to rush it, like you’re both savoring the moment, this fragile thing you’ve both been waiting for. his lips are warm, his stubble brushing against your skin as he moves, his hand slowly coming to rest against your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer. you can feel the roughness of his fingers through the fabric of your shirt, the steady rhythm of his pulse against yours. everything else fades away, all the noise, the thoughts, the questions - they all vanish. it’s just the two of you, finally, in this moment that feels like it’s been a lifetime in the making.

when you pull away, it’s barely an inch, but the silence between you is heavy, laden with everything that’s unsaid. you’re both breathless, both still caught in the aftershocks of the kiss, neither of you sure what to do next. you can feel the heat in your cheeks, the way your hands shake ever so slightly as you try to steady yourself. logan doesn’t speak at first. he just looks at you, his eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. there’s a mix of disbelief, relief, and something else in his gaze, something you can’t quite place.

finally, he clears his throat, a quiet sound, almost like he’s trying to shake off the moment. but it doesn’t quite work. not for either of you. you’re not sure if it’s the kiss or the way everything has changed between you both, but something in his touch makes your heart skip. the tension between you two has shifted, softened, and you realize with a strange certainty that this - this moment - was just the beginning.

before you can respond, he leans in again, this time with a bit more certainty, a bit more need. the kiss is deeper this time, his hand threading into your hair as he pulls you closer, his lips demanding but still tender, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. but you don’t want to slip away. you don’t want this moment to end. and for once, you let go of all the doubts, all the fears. it’s just the two of you, tangled together in something you’ve both been aching for.

when he pulls back this time, he doesn’t move far. his forehead rests gently against yours, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, both of you trying to steady yourselves after the storm. he doesn’t speak for a while, but you don’t need him to. you feel it in the way his hand stays on your back, the way his thumb brushes gently over your skin. there’s something softer about him now, something more open, and you realize it’s the same for you.

"you know," he says quietly, his voice low but with a hint of something playful in it now, "that better not be the last time you do that." you can hear the faintest trace of a smirk in his words, and it’s enough to make your heart flutter, your stomach doing flips. 

you chuckle softly, your fingers grazing over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your touch. "i know it won’t be," you reply, your voice just as soft, just as filled with the warmth that’s suddenly blooming between you two. you don’t need to say anything else. not yet. because for the first time in what feels like forever, everything is right.

and for now, that’s enough.

ᰔ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @aoi_targaryen, @urlocallocachica, @person-005

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[woozyvee]

hidden touch, secret message

₊˚��♡

word count: 2k

synopsis: there's a telltale sign for when your boyfriend is horny.

content: seungmin x female reader, established relationship au, smut (kissing, fingering).

author's note: just a result of my mushy hard thoughts about this guy because i've got a crush on him. a late happy birthday to seungminie!

It's when he touches your wrist that you know.

Seungmin isn't exactly opposed to a little bit of PDA, letting you squeeze his hand or even discreetly kiss his cheek in the presence of others without much fuss. But he's never the one who initiates it.

Well. Except for under some very specific circumstances.

The light touch almost tickles at first and you have to look down to realize that it's your boyfriend who's causing the sensation. You look up at his face with a questioning arch in your brows as his fingertips softly trace the inside of your wrist. But he's not looking at you, focusing on Chan where he's talking across the table, like the rest of his members. Or, pretending to focus, maybe.

Nobody notices the physical contact, as it's hidden beneath the dining table and perhaps that is why Seungmin's caresses become a bit firmer. Seeing as he still isn't looking at you, you also turn away from him to pretend as if nothing is happening, nodding along to whatever Chan is saying even though you've lost track by now.

Laughter breaks out around the table at a comment Jisung makes, mixing with the surrounding bustle of the restaurant and you instinctively join in, doing your best to ignore the shivers that run up your spine as Seungmin's nails drag along your skin. You half-expect his touch to disappear as he's suddenly addressed but it doesn't and by the time he's finished talking, his hand as fully wrapped around your wrist to hold it.

When his thumb starts rubbing against you in gentle circles, you chance another glance his way but are left hanging yet again. You're not sure why he chooses to ignore you. Because you know that he knows that you know what this means.

So your other hand comes over to grab his hand, stopping its movements. It works, as he finally meets your searching gaze. When you raise a quizzical brow at him he simply slides his hand off your wrist, letting it settle on your thigh instead, where he squeezes the clothed flesh softly. He then throws you a quick wink before turning away again.

But he can't hold back the small smile that grows across his lips and therefore, neither can you. Something excited swirls around in your belly, mixing nicely with the feeling of a full stomach after a delicious meal.

With every sip of beer, the anticipation in your abdomen grows in size. With every shift of Seungmin's hand, that same anticipation travels lower.

The only one who you think notices how Seungmin's hand stays hidden under the table for the rest of the evening, is Felix. Because he sends you this suspiciously happy grin which makes you wonder if he also knows what these secret touches mean. You're blushing from that point onward, Seungmin's hand steadfast in stroking your thigh. Either he doesn't notice that you've been caught or he doesn't care; with Seungmin, the latter is more plausible.

Whether Felix knows what this evening has in store for you or not, he's no longer in your thoughts by the time you and Seungmin enter your dim, compact apartment.

"Hey, you shouldn't touch me like that when we're with your members," you scold as you step out of your shoes.

"Why?" he asks plainly, shrugging off his jacket.

"It's mean," you sulk, half-heartedly.

"How so? You like it, don't you?" The look he gives you is knowing.

Your pout turns into a glare. "Exactly! It makes me horny."

"Well, then you're meaner. Because you do nothing and still make me horny."

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way his blunt admission makes you feel. "That doesn't make me meaner, if I'm not consciously doing anything. I can't control that."

"You could make an effort to look uglier."

He meets your squinted eyes with a mischievous grin. "You want me to look uglier, do you?"

"Not really. I don't mind that you're mean," he takes a step toward you and you squeeze the material of your long sleeves. "I don't mind that just looking at you makes me horny."

You raise an eyebrow as he comes closer, his touch hovering over your hips.

"And you," he emphasizes, tilting his head down to look at you from under his lashes, "don't mind when I let you know that I'm horny."

A shiver washes over you as Seungmin's fingers move under your shirt, slightly cold against the skin of your waist where they splay themselves out.

"Do you?" The question sounds more like a statement.

You inhale and exhale slowly, letting him guide you to lean against the wall behind you. He presses his front snugly into yours, the grip over your skin squeezing a little bit harder. By the way his thumbs all but dig into you, you can tell that he's still needy, despite the composed expression on his face. The tip of his nose barely brushes yours.

He raises his pretty eyebrows in question, apparently waiting for an answer.

A sigh. "No, I don't mind."

Your boyfriend smiles before he leans down to kiss you, pouty lips soft over yours.

It doesn't take long for your tongues to slip into each other's mouths, Seungmin's hands sliding up and down your skin with an occasional touch over your covered nipples. You exchange air with your heavy breaths, his hips sometimes jerking forward against his will to let you know how hard he's getting within his jeans. Your hands grab at his shirt, the back of his neck, anything to ground you as you nearly drown in the taste of him.

Seungmin pulls away to look down, lips swollen and breathing labored. His hands leave your skin to unbutton and unzip your pants and you press kisses along his jaw to occupy yourself.

You try not to flinch too hard when one of his hands slips into your panties and slides over your wet folds, whimper caught somewhere in the back of your throat. Seungmin sighs and presses himself harder against you, sandwiching you between himself and the wall.

"Were you already this wet back at the restaurant?"

You swallow. "Coulda put your hand down my pants and found out."

He chuckles but it's breathy, hot against your neck. "So you're just playing hard to get, huh? You scold me but really, you're a bigger perv than I am."

"Is that news to you?" Your voice is strained as he coats his fingers in your slick.

"Hm," he hums, burying his face in your neck to place kisses there. "Guess not."

The plush pads of Seungmin's fore- and middle finger draw delicate circles against your clit and your legs shake for a moment, choked sounds slipping past your lips as you muffle your voice with your tongue. He nips at the crook of your neck with his teeth before softly kissing it better. Both your hands are harshly grasping at strands of his hair, only faltering slightly as his middle finger moves down to dip inside you. You try not to moan but fail, whining into Seungmin's shoulder a bit high-pitched and shaky.

"Fuck," Seungmin sighs, his bite a little harder over your pulse and causing your brows to deeply furrow. He slowly pulls his finger in and out of you, drawing more and more warmth to pool between your legs.

He lifts his hand that's resting on your hip to grasp one of your elbows, dragging his palm along your forearm until it reaches your hand where he grasps it in his, pressing it against the wall next to your head. You no longer try to swallow your moans, letting them fall freely from your parted, glistening lips, into Seungmin's neck. He pulls out of you to focus on your clit again, knowing exactly how to caress it to make you buck your hips.

Your boyfriend turns his head, pecks your cheek. "Does it feel good, pretty?"

"Yes," you sigh, louder than you mean to.

Seungmin kisses your jaw, fingers reaching down to collect more of your arousal before coming back up. You're really sensitive now, squirming with his movements against you.

Before you know it, you feel your release building itself up, something warm and tight twisting in your abdomen. Your mewls become deeper, heavier as you curl into Seungmin's body, rocking your hips in time with his fingers.

He lifts his head to watch you, breath ticklish against your nose.

"Getting close?"

You can only nod, voice too busy whimpering to answer. Your fingers curl and flex under Seungmin's hold where he's pressing your hand into the wall, the feeling of being restrained shooting electricity straight down to your crotch.

"Hm. Should I stop?"

Your eyes shoot open, your view of Seungmin's face blurry from the close proximity. "What- no!" You furiously shake your head.

"Oh? But I thought you like it when I'm mean to you," he reminds you and grips your trapped hand a little harder.

Despite what he's saying, his fingers don't let up and you moan louder, head falling back against the wall with a thud. "Fuck, yeah, I do-"

Seungmin snickers but you cannot find it in yourself to care, cheeks burning as you draw closer to the edge and your free hand grasps his hair roughly. He rolls his hips into yours, a tight groan barely sounding from his throat.

"Since you like it so much" —Seungmin stutters over a grunt— "I can be meaner. I can leave you hanging right now and go jerk myself off in the bathroom."

"No no-"

"No?"

"No please-" Your voice breaks as your hips grind into his touch.

"Oh," Seungmin sighs into your ear. "So you like it when I'm a little nice too."

"Yeah-"

"Okay then." Seungmin kisses your earlobe. "I'll play nice tonight. Mostly because I like when you're already fucked out once I put my cock in you."

Your squirming gets stiffer, involuntarily fighting against Seungmin's hold on you as he works you toward your release. He bites your ear and you almost choke on your own spit, abs curling tightly in your stomach.

"Oh fuck fuck please-"

"Mhm," Seungmin hums, hot breath fanning the inside of your ear. "Let go, pretty. I'll help you through it."

You do and he does.

Strong, tingling waves of raw pleasure contract through your body, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as you writhe helplessly between your boyfriend and the wall he's pressing you into. He holds you as you squirm through your high, fingers gentle over your clit and kisses soft against your cheekbone.

"There you go," Seungmin exhales, digging his hard length into your hipbone through your clothes.

Only when you whine and flinch away from his touch does he let up, pulling out of your underwear to hold your waist with both his hands. He takes half a step away from you, only so he can get a good look at your slightly dazed and flushed face.

He's grinning, ear to ear, absolutely beaming from where he's staring down at you.

You huff, relying on the wall and Seungmin's hold to keep you from swaying. "What?"

"Nothing."

You scoff but can't help the curl at the corners of your lips. "Right."

He leans down and kisses you through his smile, tender and heartfelt. Until his movements turn just a bit rough. He pulls away, voice strained.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd love to stand here and keep making out but I really need to fuck you right now and I'm not doing it against this wall."

You giggle airily as he seizes the same wrist he was touching under the restaurant's table and drags you toward your bedroom.

This is why every time Seungmin initiates PDA, you know you are in for a good time.

copyright © 2024 woozyvee. all rights reserved.

[azullumi]

"it's you hiding in limelight" ; aventurine

requested by anon — “can you do or already done pre-relationship aventurine headcanons? like what is he like before and how he warms up” premise — it takes a lot for him to trust someone. it’s a gentle and steady process; the fire burns slowly between you and him, and despite the uncertainty whether the flame is going to burn out or consume him in the end, he lets the warmth seep through the cracks of his soul. content tags and warnings — pairing: gender-neutral reader w/ aventurine | pre-relationship, fluff, a little word vomit, not proofread | wc: 0.7k ; headcanons

note from me — i was so conflicted while writing this,, and it doesn't help that i'm trying to figure out if my cat is pregnant or just fat...

It’s not easy to make AVENTURINE warm up.

He doesn’t trust anyone easily, seeing relationships as superficial, as something that is simply a give-and-take thing, a bet, a deal. He has quite a one-way view on relationships, only seeing it as something that would be beneficial to him—it’s not like he knows how to maintain such relationships either. He thinks that showering them with gifts, no matter how expensive, would make them stay, a key to securing loyalty and affection.

So when he finds himself slowly being drawn to you, being at ease whenever you’re around, as he initiates small talks and silly bets, he wouldn’t know how to break it down from there. You’re just so warm and easy to talk to, it’s comforting (like a gentle breeze). He simply keeps everyone at arm’s length, maintaining a careful distance, and yet, like a living paradox, he can feel intimately close at times to you—it’s his subtle flirting, consistent compliments, and often lingering touches.

He is hesitant in all of his bones, hard to grasp, complex and distant, but if you reach even for a little, he’ll let you hold him in your hands. He’s confusing; the thread of his words and actions are intertwined with each other but you can never find the meaning of it. It’s a heavy needlepoint of embroidery that can never be finished, a small part missing from the piece and you could never figure out what it is that you’re lacking. It’s not easy to tell if he sees you only as a friend or something more than that.

You need to be patient and persistent with him, understanding that he himself struggles with the idea of vulnerability; he fears that opening up to pain and disappointment, leaving him on his own in the end. However, over time, he eventually lowers his guard and allows himself to trust you, finding solace in your presence. When the two of you first met, his shoulders were always tense and he kept his emotions guarded behind a mask, but now, he lets go of what he carries even if it’s just for a bit, as long as it’s you he is with.

You can feel the distance closing in, the fine-drawn line of vulnerability and wariness seaming into one. You can almost touch the vanishing point between you and him, intertwining with each other, and you don’t fail to recognize the subtle shift in his actions, in his gestures, in everything about him and all that you knew.

It may be a small and mundane thing but his tendency to shower his “friends” with expensive gifts and asking to choose among which one that they would like—albeit he also does to you on some occasions—all contrasts with the simplicity of the tokens he gives you. He reserves a different kind of gesture for you, one that is laced with thoughtfulness and sincerity rather than the utter value of the gift itself.

Probably brought a bracelet one time and told you of it, but didn’t mention that it has a pair, a matching one, which he bought for himself (and never wore). He has it hidden in his drawers, amidst his precious items, only to take out from time to time to stare at it. It’s a secret he’ll forever take to his grave.

Your constant reassurance, gentleness, and kindness breaks down his defenses, the mask crumbling into unrecognizable pieces. He didn’t think he would trust someone this much, nor would he ever harbor such soft feelings—velveted affections, sweet sounds of laughter, benign words that buries itself in his chest, finding solitude in one another’s presence, basking in the warmth of it all.

Oh, to have someone see him beyond the walls he built, it scares him in some way—when you have forever listened to the chorus of condemns orchestrated by your mind, you’ll only think that you’re unlovable to anyone, that’s how it was for him, and yet to you, it comes easy as if he’s simply tangled threads that only needs to be unraveled carefully and gently. He didn’t know nor did he ever think that you'd see stars on his scars when he laid himself bare for you to see the marks that dusted his skin.

Aventurine feels like he could drown in the feeling. It’s a gentle tide that crawls to the shore and drags him along with the warm currents (the smell of blood is replaced with the taste of salt on his lips); a tender fire that burns slowly, and despite the uncertainty whether the flame is going to burn out or consume him, he’ll let the light in.

GRAH DRUM ROLLS PLEASE IM ANNOUNCING THE PRESENCE OF THE OUTSTANDING AND AMAZING FELI @dr-felitas (sometimes i type in your old user and wonder why it's not popping out and then i just go oh!) anyways, this is for you my fellow dry-talker npc,, i honestly find it cute that we're starting to adopt each other's mannerisms or texting language or pattern cause like i only started saying "right!?" (when i agree on something) because of you (back then i only say real or just nothing at all :D) and i think i began to use some of your vocabulary 😭. and somehow my ability to understand and read through typos are getting better all thanks to you 🔥🔥🔥 the world will end first before you even get to spell that word properly jkjk i love you with all of your typos, incoherent words, stupid autocorrect mwamwamwa (i say as if im im not the same) !! anyways you are a light in my life and you're one of the reasons why i still continue to pick up the pen and write !! you've been of great help and inspiration in my writings <33 without you, i probably wouldn't be able to get through the hell hole of last month, thank you. ily lots mwaa !!

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[etheraltides]

Wind whispers ೄྀ࿐

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summarize: after arriving in Outer Banks without his dad, Rafe goes straight back to the only soft constant in his crazy life.

Warning(s): mention of death and drowning. It’s basically just fluff with a hint of angst

A/N: This is just a little something cause I was bored but Let me know if you’d like a full version of with smut, maybe ;) Feedback is always more than welcome!

The night was warm, the soft rustle of leaves outside mingling with the gentle hum of crickets. You lay beside Rafe in the quietness of your room, the moonlight casting a faint glow through the sheer curtains. His body was still trembling slightly from your shared moment, the air between you thick with something deeper than either of you was ready to admit.

You had always kept things light with Rafe. No strings, no commitments. It was easier that way – especially for him, the guy who had always kept his walls up, the one who never let anyone too close. But tonight, something was different, you could feel it.

He was quieter, his eyes distant, lost in a place you couldn’t reach as he stared at your white ceiling. His dad was dead, you had heard someone around the island say. The weight of it was written in every line of his body, and you could feel the heaviness of it sinking into him. He hadn’t said much since he showed up at your door. Just walked in, kissed you, and let it unfold like it always did. Without any pressure.

Now, though, as you ran your fingers through his shaved hair, something twisted deep inside you. A need, more than just physical. You wanted to reach him, wanted to hold him beyond the fleeting moments of passion. The quiet between you thickened, and you felt your heart race, your chest tightening as you tried to find the words. You didn’t want him to think he was alone now.

“I want you,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. Rafe’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and unreadable. You took a breath, your hand sliding down his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the tension beneath his skin. “I want you with me, on me, in me.” The words slipped out, soft but laced with all the intensity you had kept hidden.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you like he was trying to make sense of what you had just said. His brows furrowed, his breathing a little more uneven. You wondered if you had pushed too far, crossed the unspoken boundary that had always existed between you.

But then he moved. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in such a careful tender way, almost as if he was scared to hurt you. His gaze softened, something flickering behind the walls he always kept up. “I’m here,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost vulnerable.

Rafe always feared he’d damage you. Taint your softness with his anger, bring chaos to the peace he always felt coming from you. He was feeling selfish tonight.

You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his. It wasn’t just lust this time. It was more, something you both had avoided for too long. And now, in the dim light of your bedroom, with the weight of the world pressing down on him, you were both finally ready to admit it – even if neither of you knew exactly how.

His kiss deepened, slow and languid, as if he was savoring every second. His hands traced your skin, but it wasn’t rushed like usual. It was careful, almost as if he was afraid to lose you in the moment. And maybe, for the first time, he was.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Rafe muttered against your lips, his voice tight with something you hadn’t heard from him before—fear. “I feel like I’m drowning. He’s gone. Everyone’s gone.”

You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around him. “Then let me hold you up,” you whispered. “I’m here, Rafe. I’ve always been here.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken feelings, but it was enough. For now, this moment was enough.

He wasn’t alone. He had you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Please interact with the story. Your reblogs, likes and comments helps me stay motivated. Your support means the world! ^ྀི 🩵

[etheries1015]

Because I have favorism towards the fae myself (And I'm sorry this is suggestive)

Remember Malleus' voice line about touching his hornes? Now, reader just touches them whenever they can be reached (like when Malleus is using their lap as a pillow) or stroking his tail whenever it's wrapped around Reader. Without realizing it's doing things to him.

Oh my gosh. Don't apologize for suggestive content, I love that shit. Feed me more of it. Heuheuheuheu.

Feeding a Faes hidden desires

Featuring: Malleus Draconia <3

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

18+ / suggestive content minors please don't interact~

It was difficult for Malleus Draconia to open up to people, he had to be the face of pure perfection for the sake of his kingdom. Every action he took, every word he said, would reflect upon Briar Valley and put his position as a prince in either light of greatness, or foolishness. The former was not an option for Malleus Draconia. He was given the best of the best when it came to his studies and academics, except, unfortunately, sex ed.

He understood the bare minimum of course, for reproduction was important for keeping the bloodline of the Draconias strong. What he was not well versed in, however, was the feeling of lust that came with reproduction. He never knew it could feel so... dirty.

When he had agreed to allow you to touch his horns when you insisted, he had no clue what kind of...desires this would stir up in him without realizing.

You had asked the draconic fae to touch his horns and his tail, and he spent a few times urging you otherwise in fear of harming you in some way. Yet it did not take him very long to feel curious and begin to imagine how your hands would feel upon his horns and extremities, starting out purely out of curiosity and the desire to be closer to you.

The first time you touched his horns was in the comfort of the lounge, he bent over for you to touch and feel them freely before being interrupted by Sebeks outraged cries of blasphemy. Since the moment your soft fingertips pressed against the roughness of his obsidian horns, he felt his body shudder at the contact, and something in him he decided to ignore screamed in his mind that it was perhaps a...dangerous endeavor. He had managed to suppress himself from such thoughts and desires, even allowing you to (on occasion) touch his horns and tail at your request. Never for too long, for when the thoughts returned he made a quick excuse to end the session. He wanted to respect you and your soft touch- not sully the romantic gesture with lustful thoughts.

He was often searching for your touch in many different ways, in hugs, cuddles, gentle kisses, holding hands...yet a few months and almost a year, he could feel himself become far more greedier. Malleus would notice the slight changes in himself when you would reach up to grab hold of something on a shelf, the way your shirt rode up your stomach ever so slightly, the way your hands would draw circles around the title page to get a feel for the book, he almost felt himself envious of the piece of literature. He told himself not to lose control, to hold himself together like a proper gentlefae, allowing you to only touch his draconic features on the rare occasion he felt he could keep himself properly composed.

Yet now there you were, in your room in Ramshackle dorm, sitting upon the lap of your lover gently caressing his smooth black horns absentmindedly. It was a comfortable atmosphere for you, being held lovingly by your tall fae significant other in silence while pouring your love and affection into your little pets upon his horns. You muttered a "beautiful..." before leaning up slightly...

and placing a kiss upon his horns.

Malleus let out a sudden high-pitched "urgh!" of surprise, his tail squeezing your waist slightly. Your eyebrows raised in shock, pulling away to look at your now flushed lover, feeling a bit of...excitement from down below. He suddenly removed his tail from your waist and seemed to want to move away from you, until you pushed your body on top of his own, straddling his waist and feeling his arousal between your thighs.

"I-i'm-" He gulped and let out a low moan, his hands shaking hesitantly mid air, not certain where he should place them, "I'm sorry- this is incredibly unbecoming of a king-" You hushed him with a rushed kiss and shook your head, the kiss lasting only a moment prior to you pulling away face as flushed as his and forehead pressed against his own.

"It's natural," You comforted him, "Do you...like it when I touch your horns, Mal...?" You hesitated your inquiry, his response a simple and slow nod giving you confidence to move your hands back to his horns and begin to rub them intimately. You felt his body twitch below you and his tail wrapped itself around your thigh, voice trembling. You hadn't seen the fae prince so shaken up before, so uncertain, so vulnerable. Only in front of you would he allow himself to lose such control.

"Are you...are you certain? I haven't any...experience," He muttered against the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you tightly as if to console himself.

"It's okay," you murmured, hands removing themselves from his horns much to his whining displeasure of the sudden warmth disappearing from them, before shuddering once more as your attention shifted to his tail. Your finger trailed the scales and you felt him twitch between your thighs through his pants as his excitement stirred with every touch you placed upon his extremities.

"I...want it too," You purred.

Malleus's desire gauge was now at 100%

and you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.

~~~~

Masterlist

[flowersforjude]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Harwin Strong x Fem Targaryen!Reader 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A stolen morning spent with Ser Harwin.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2,036

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Sneaking around, slightly suggestive in some parts?, there’s always gotta be a little angst, but also fluff!

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | How has it taken me this long to notice how good this man is? It’s disgraceful really. @criminalamnesia has something similar to this so go check it out!

masterlist

A soft breeze was blowing through the open window of your chambers. Early morning light threaded through the thin curtains billowing in the gentle wind. You shifted slightly in bed, throwing an arm over your face to combat the sunlight. Sleep beckoned you back into its waiting embrace. 

The gods were cruel, however. Or, sweet, you really couldn’t decide. 

“Good morning.” A languid voice rumbles in greeting. Harwin trailed a hand up your bare shoulder, his delicate touch leaving chills in their wake. 

“Hmm,” you returned, willing your eyes to stay closed. If you even cracked them open a bit, there’d be no going back to sleep. You drew closer to his chest, pressing your face into the sheet that covered him. His extra warmth quickly pulled you back to slumber. Almost. 

Your lover, however, had different ideas. His hand on your shoulder roamed down your back, sliding under the thick cover you’d hoarded in the night. His touch was still gentle as he took to running his fingers up and down your spine. Hitting the ticklish spot right above your tailbone every time they wander lower. 

Face still hidden in his chest, you bit your lip to keep from giggling. He was relentless, though. Dragging his hand down once again, he allowed himself a generous feel of your rear. 

“Harwin!” You exclaimed, shooting your head up to meet his grinning face. 

“Good morning.” He said again, pulling you closer to him. He nudged your head to tilt up higher so he could press kisses to the underside of your jaw. 

Sighing, whether from pleasure or annoyance, no one knows. You tangle your fingers in his dark hair. “It is early.” You grumble as he moves lower to your neck. His lips were heavy against your skin. 

“Actually, Princess.” He replied, his hand going to your hair to angle your neck to be more open to him. “It's almost time for me to leave.” 

Truthfully, it was like this almost every morning you and Harwin spent together. Quiet spoken words, warm carasses, and sometimes a reenactment of the night before if there was time. The gods were surely used to the sight of you two tangled together in your bed, with the door to your chambers locked. It was moments like this that sustained you, both of you. Stolen from the rest of the kingdom, they were, but precious all the same. Something that was reserved just for the two of you without having to care about the rest of the people around you. 

“You don’t have to go.” You said casually, knowing deep down that wasn’t true. He always had to leave. Sneak out in the earliest hours of the morning to protect your secret. 

Eyes finally meeting his, you smiled sadly at him. Harwin returned it with a slightly more lighthearted one. He always tried to keep your spirits high in times like this. When the clock was ticking too fast for either of your comforts, racing against you for him to depart. 

“I do,” he countered. “I cannot be discovered here, or I’d lose my head. I’d lose you.” 

You rolled your eyes at his sentiment, but placed a kiss on his jaw. Telling him you knew, of course you did. He hummed as your lips met his skin. A deep thunder-like sound that never fails to send a thrill of excitement through you. “You’re forgetting the power I hold, my love. I’d talk my father down to a finger, perhaps. Unless he was having a bad day, then you’d be short of a hand.” You beamed up at him. 

“I trust your negotiation skills fully, Princess.” His fingers, still tangled in your hair, dug deeper, running his digits through the tresses of silver. 

You fought your eyes from dropping shut, his touch soothing your mind back to sleepiness. The cloak of dreams was very much welcome, but that was a disaster that needed to be avoided. You’d go to sleep, and Harwin would follow suit, and you’d be caught. Or you’d fall back asleep, and he’d leave without waking you. 

He’d done that only once before. Slipping out of your chambers without rousing you to say goodbye. You had been so angry at him for stealing your chance to see him off, for depriving you of one last kiss that you’d threatened to feed him to your dragon if he did it again. You would never actually do that, but your tongue was talented at running away from you when angry. And Harwin knew that, so you were always worried he’d escape like that again. 

One night, while tangled together after blissful pleasure, he’d admitted he tried to lure you back to sleep many times before with the soul intention of leaving once you were. An angry retort had been ready before he continued to say it was because he loathed seeing how crestfallen you looked when he had to part from you. He hated watching your giddy mood dissipate and be replaced by sadness. He would much rather prefer gazing at your peaceful expression as you sleep before leaving. 

You were quick to tell him your dark emotions were never aimed for him. Rather, they were reserved for the entire circumstances you both found yourselves in. Being so entirely enamored by each other but forced to hide your affections. 

You could not wed until Rhaenyra did. It would look unfavorably upon the heir if her younger sister took a husband before she did. So, while you loved Rhaenyra with your whole heart and would never wish to see her tapped in a marriage she did not want, you wished she would hurry up and choose someone. 

“Where are you posted today?” You asked, rolling yourself over so you sat atop him. The blankets pooled around your waist, so your naked chest was on full display for him. You saw him glance and then look away in the same second. Trying to remind himself that there was no time for that this morning. 

He cleared his throat before answering you. “I’ll be training new recruits in the yard for most of the day.” 

You grinned at him while scratching your nails lightly down his chest. “I suppose I’ll have to wander by the training yard then.” You said coyly. “Many times.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to try harder to remain focused with the beautiful princess passing through so often.” His arm came to loop around your waist, pulling you a little higher on his lap. His fingers smoothed over your hips as he watched you raise your arms above your head, stretching the tiredness from them. 

“I should speak with my father about taking you as my sworn sword.” You told him. “I’ve been thinking about it for some time now.” 

“You wish to be accompanied by me every day?” He questioned, sitting up while still holding you to him. 

Confusion colored your expression. “Do you not wish for it?” 

“That is not the issue,” he said. “If the King happens to agree, you will not be able to request a different guard simply because you’re crossed with me.” He flashed a bright smile at you. 

“I only did that once,” you protested. 

He laughed then, a hearty sound that you’d grown to adore. “Because I forgot the strawberry pastries you requested before I came to your chamber that night.” 

“I was looking forward to them.” You grumbled, ducking your head down. “And in any case, I came to regret that decision very quickly. Ser Brune was dreadfully boring.” 

Harwin laughed again, and moved your head up to look at him. “Speak with the King, love. If he agrees, then I’d happily spend the rest of my days never leaving your side.” 

Before you could say anything in return, he wound his arms around you, pulling you to lay on him as he sank back into the bed. Both his arms stayed wrapped around you, successfully holding you to him. Letting your head fall to the crook of his neck, you sighed contently. 

“And if he does not, then we’ll just have to hasten your sister along in her search for a husband.” He spoke, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. “So then we would finally be allowed to wed.” 

“Rhyeanra will likely remain unwed for the rest of her days.” You sighed. “I don’t think there will be a match waiting in the wings anytime soon.” 

“I’m sure you could…persuade her. You can be quite terrifying when it suits you, Princess.”

Gasping as if offended, you shift to meet his eyes. “You are unbearable.” You accused, leaning down towards his face. Your silver hair concealed you both from the outside world and the bothersome sun. 

“Am I now?” He asked with a smirk, brushing his nose along yours. 

“Terribly so.” You teased before leaning the rest of the way down and capturing his lips. 

Sweetness erupted behind your lips just as it did every time you kissed him. The intoxicating feeling lasted all of a few seconds before an alarming knock came from the door. 

The frantic knock was accompanied by your handmaiden’s worried voice. “Princess! Are you awake?” She called from outside. 

You quickly sat up, taking the sheets to cover your very naked body, before looking down at Harwin, who was also very naked. In your bed.

“Princess, are you in there?” Your handmaiden spoke again. The concern was raised in her voice. You could only imagine how the situation looked. Your door locked, you not answering, and no guard in sight outside your chambers. She was likely thinking the worst. 

You tossed the sheet at Harwin, rushing over to your wardrobe to yank out a nightgown. As you pulled the garment over your head, he rose and began hastily collecting his clothes and armor strewn across the floor from the night before. 

“Yes, Seanna!” You called to your handmaiden, helping Harwin haphazardly button his shirt.  

“You must go.” You urged while he attempted to place his armor on without fastening anything. 

“This damn, I am trying.” He muttered, nearly tripping over his boots, still on the floor in his haste. You cringed as his bracer slid from his arm, almost clattering to the stone floor. He caught it just as it fell, though. 

“Princess, are you alright?” Seanna asked, knocking on the door once again. 

“Yes, just a moment.” You yelled, trying to mask the nervousness in your voice. You gathered his boots and remaining armor as you herded him to the secret passageway hidden in the wall behind your dressing screen. Jerking the concealed door open, you all but pushed Harwin in. 

Shoving his armor and boots into his arms, you noticed the wide smile he was directing at you. “Yes?” You questioned disbelievingly.

“You seem a little nervous, love.” 

Pushing his shoulders to urge him on, you rolled your eyes at his audacity. “Just go!” You chastise him with a traitorous laugh sounding behind your words. 

He chuckled while surging forward to press a lingering kiss to your lips. With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the passage. You quickly put the door to rights and readjusted the dressing screen. Running a hand through your hair, you finally open your door for your handmaiden. 

She all but rushed into the room. “I was starting to think the worst, your Highness.” She got to her duties right away. Going to the wardrobe to retrieve a dress for the day. “Who was meant to be on guard last night, Princess? There was no one outside.” 

“There wasn’t?” You asked in mock surprise. 

“Yes, Princess.” Seanna looked at you skeptically. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed as if you just remembered something. “Ser Harwin was on duty last night. I’m sure they are just doing shift chances early this morning.” 

“I’m sure.” Your handmaiden agreed with more skepticism. She was good enough to let the matter drop, though. 

Once she is done putting your hair into a braided style, she helps pull your dress over your undergarments. Stringing a necklace around your neck, she smirks at you in the mirror. 

“His cloak is under your bed, your Highness.”

Expect a lot more of this man from me. He's on my list now!

[deakyjoe]

Tap Out

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Reader (gender neutral)

Category: smut

Summary: You know just how to make Logan feel better after a bad day.

Warnings: 18+, smut, m receiving oral, face fucking, hurt/comfort (??), Logan has a bad day, you cheer him up by sucking his dick, Logan calls reader “bub”, let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: he got to me…

Please consider buying me a coffee :)

Logan had been having a bad day. You could tell by the way he was scowling more than usual. He'd barely brightened up when Rogue had joined the two of you for dinner and didn't seem overly enthused when you'd told him where the hidden stash of liquor was kept.

Which meant he was having a worse day than usual.

Perpetually grumpy, you'd grown used to his ways. It was one of the many things you loved about him, in fact. But this was something else. So once it had gotten to the point when the sun had set, all of the students had gone back to their rooms for the night, the rest of the professors in the mansion had gone off to do their own things for the remainder of the evening, and he was still clearly unhappy, you just tapped him on the shoulder.

He glanced at you with a funny look, frowning down at where your fingers had skated across his skin. "What was that?"

"That's me tapping you out for the day. Let's go to bed." You offered him your hand, palm up.

"It's only nine." Logan responded, taking your hand in his anyway.

You nodded. "Yes. So? You don't want to go to bed with me?"

He scoffed. "You make a compelling argument, bub."

So he let you drag him back to your shared bedroom, where you planned to do everything in your power to make his day better. Even if that improvement was only slight. And you knew exactly what to do.

Your bedroom door was barely locked before you were pushing Logan to stand in the centre of the room and you were sinking down to your knees in front of him. Your hands were unbuckling his belt before he'd even had the chance to realise what was happening.

There was a short pause once his fly was unzipped as you looked up at him to confirm that what you were doing was okay. Luckily for you, Logan was almost always in the mood for this.

"Go ahead." He rasped, tucking a finger under your chin and running a thumb along your bottom lip. "Always so pretty on your knees for me."

Suppressing a giggle, you used the tip of your finger to stroke the length of him through the briefs he was wearing, wanting to tease him a little as well as get him hard before you even really touched him. He twitched through the fabric. You bit the inside of your cheek to hide a smile.

You pressed a little harder with the heel of your hand, feeling him grow hard within the confines of his underwear. Sometimes he was just really easy to rile up and you were glad that this was one of those times.

You wasted no time in pulling his briefs and pants down, just to his mid thighs to give you easy access, and wrapped your hand around the base of him. You smiled widely when he let out a hiss at the contact.

"Go easy on me, bub. Been a long day." He mumbled, smoothing a warm palm over the top of your head.

"Funny..." You chimed, licking a long stripe along the vein that adorned the underside of his cock. "...I was about to tell you that you don't need to be gentle with me tonight."

"Is that right?" He chuckled lowly, groaning when you placed a kiss on the head of him.

"Mhm." You hummed, sucking his tip into your mouth for a moment before letting it go with a quiet pop. "Can go with our usual system, yeah?"

Logan knew what you meant - the rules and boundaries you'd both set out at the beginning of your relationship. There was a set of signals and words you both used to let the other know how you were feeling. It worked well in situations like this, ones where you wouldn't really be able to talk properly.

"Alright." He agreed, grasping either side of your head in preparation to hold you in place while he had his way with you.

You licked the palm of your hand, pumping his cock a few times to give it some lubrication before you got started. "Ready?"

"Always ready for you, bub."

You liked when he said things like that, the rare times he verbalised his affection. Logan tended to be more physical when it came to showing you how he felt. So the few occasions he said something even somewhat meaningful, you made sure to always cling onto it.

You opened your mouth, letting your jaw go slack and your tongue hang out over your lower lip just a little, and gave him the smallest of nods to let him know he was good to go.

Logan didn't let any time go to waste before he was easing his pelvis forward and pushing his cock past your lips and into the warm and wet confines of your mouth. It was always a heavenly feeling and he never bothered holding back the groan that would rumble in his chest in response. He wanted you to know how good it felt.

You let out your own moan at the taste of his cock in your mouth, the skin velvety on your tongue. Blow jobs had never been fun until you'd met Logan. Now it was one of your favourite activities.

His hold on the sides of your head tightened as he started a steady pace of thrusting in and out of your mouth. You made sure to breathe carefully through your nose as he took control of your mouth, saliva building up on the corners of your lips as his cock became more and more slick with it.

Logan was losing himself in the situation. How could such a pretty mouth be ruined so quickly by you taking him so easily? It was sinful. He liked to watch the length of himself disappear in and out of the cavern of your mouth, flicking his eyes upwards to meet yours every few moments. He always found you already watching him, absorbing every minor reaction he gave.

You moaned around him, the vibration reaching his stomach and causing him to rut forward even harder. That had his tip hitting the back of your throat, the squeeze of it around him was delicious. He heard, and felt, you gag slightly as tears built in your eyes. But when you gave no indication of him stopping, he let himself continue with that level of force.

The wet sounds of your lips around his dick, sliding up and down the length of it as he moved in and out of your mouth, rattled around Logan’s brain. His teeth clenched together, muscle ticking in his jaw. The noises were lewd and showcased how unforgiving his thrusts were. He didn’t know how much longer he would last, the weight of a bad day combined with the ecstasy of your mouth would lead to him coming across your tongue a lot quicker than usual.

But just as Logan could feel himself crawling towards that edge, only a few more harsh bucks before the end, he felt a couple of solid taps against his thigh.

He immediately pulled himself out of your mouth and looked down at you. Cupping your cheeks in his large hands, his thumbs swiped over your skin gently. "You okay?"

You grinned up at him, eyes creased in joy and saliva dribbling down your chin. "Yep! Just need a second to breathe."

Logan huffed in amusement at your apparent sheer delight, a string of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his dick as you continued to pump him in your hand whilst giving your mouth a break. "You're something else..."

"It's why you love me." You mumbled, giving a tentative lick to his tip as you took deep breaths through your nose.

He stared down at you. It was true. He did love you. But he'd never said it out loud. “One of the reasons.”

You tried not to react too obviously at his acknowledgement of that fact as you looked up at him again with a bright smile. "Wanna keep fucking my throat?"

The sight of your face between his hands, chin glistening wet, and your pupils blown had Logan’s cock twitching in anticipation again. So he didn’t even need to verbally agree as he pushed himself back into your awaiting mouth and got back to work. He was brutal, even more ruthless than he had been previously, but kept a close eye on you to make sure you were okay.

It didn’t take him long before he was hitting that precipice again. And with one last thrust forward that had him burying himself deep in the tightness of your throat, he spilled himself and filled your mouth with his cum. Ropes of it spurted out of him and onto your tongue.

You moaned happily at the taste of it, eyes closing as you gave him a few more gentle sucks to finish him off before pulling away and letting him drop out of your mouth.

Logan stood above you, panting and waiting for you to say something. You only sent him the same luminous smile you had before. He offered a hand to help you up which you gratefully accepted and pulled you in for a searing kiss as soon as you were stood.

You broke away from him briefly to mutter a question against his lips. “Do you want to talk about whatever’s been bothering you?”

He shook his head. “No, because it was nothing a little of you couldn’t fix.”

You hummed at that, glad he was feeling better. “Come on, let’s actually go to bed.”

Logan was only too eager to follow you.

[wlfchnlv3r]

Life is so good

mute best friend! Hyunjin x best friend! female reader

Synopsis: You and hyunjin, your mute best friend, were on vacation with other friends, what could change your relationship?

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, smut, 🔞🔞!!!, best friends to lovers, foreplay! Enjoy

Note: I’m back, work literally killed me but I’m here and I wish you all a merry Christmas guys!

It’s already 3 am and you are scrolling through your phone in your room, It was peaceful, your own little bubble of isolation. You barely notice the shadow that crossed in front of the window until Hyunjin hopped through, landing in the room with

his usual quiet grace.

You aren’t surprise of his visit and just signs with your hand “no sleep?”.

Hyunjin caught your question for a moment before ignoring it and signing with his hands “What are you doing?” he sits on the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

“Just scrolling some post on Instagram” you say lifting the bed sheets for him to come near you.

Your friend crawls into the bed next to you. The two of you move on autopilot, shifting closer to one another. He lifts his arm, and you don’t hesitate to snuggle up against him, your head resting against his chest. He pulls the covers over both of you, his other arm wrapping around your waist and holding you tight.

“You seem tired…” your voice is low.

He reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle, yet there’s a slight tension in the way he move, he lets out a soft exhale and signs, “Can’t sleep….”; After a few moments of silent he continues to move his hands “how was your date with that short guy…?”

You choked a laugh and whisper in his ear “boring- we watched some football and then i invented an excuse to return here” you admitted with a soft smile.

Hyunjin watches your lips as you speak, his eyes tracing over the movement of your mouth. The word “boring” seems to placate him a little bit. He brings his hand up, gently cupping your jawline, his thumb rubbing small circles against your skin.

Your friend signed “You didn’t like him”. It wasn’t a question, but a statement, a fact he knew already.

You let your body relax under his touch, closing your eyes and nodding.

He lets out a low, pleased hum at your answer, his hand still cupping your chin, tilting your head back to rest against his chest. For a while, he simply holds you like this, his thumb still tracing soothing patterns against your skin. There’s something possessive in his touch, like he’s reminding himself that you’re here, in his arms, and not with that other guy.

“Hyunjin?” You call out his name before continuing “have you ever been intimate with a girl…?” yes, he was your best friend but a part of you needed an answer to this question.

Hyunjin chest rises and falls against your back as he takes a deep breath, the question seeming to fluster him a little. For a moment, he doesn’t answer, just holds you tighter, like he’s trying to press the words out of himself. Then, almost reluctantly, he signs, “…Yes, once, some time ago”.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your mind was already burning with jealousy.

He pauses for a long moment, his gaze still fixed on a point past your head. Finally, he signs, slowly, the words reluctant to leave him, “It didn’t mean anything.”

He swallows, his hand still tracing circles on your back, a gesture meant to soothe, either himself or you, he wasn’t sure which one.

You just nods slowly trying to process everything.

Hyunjin notices your reaction, or lack thereof. Despite the nonchalant tone of your nods, he can sense the unease, the insecurity hidden beneath your cool exterior. He moves suddenly, rolling you onto your back, so he’s pinning you beneath him. He hovers above you, his body enveloping you, his fingers moving quickly as he signs, “You don’t believe me?”

Your eyes widen and you sign “I didn’t said that, just wondering who this girl is.. i think”

Hyunjin huffs, annoyed that you aren’t accepting his word, but it’s a small victory, seeing you looking up at him like this. He lets out a sigh, his hand coming up to comb through your hair, his gaze fixed on yours.

He signs again, reluctantly, “She was… just a girl. Someone I met at a party. It was a long time ago, and I don’t remember her name anymore.”

“She knew sign language?” You sign immediately.

Your friend shakes his head, his fingers never stopping the soothing motion of playing with your hair. In the dim lighting of the room, his eyes seem almost dark, the pupils dilated. He swallows and signs again, his movements a little rougher this time, almost as if he was frustrated by the whole conversation “Does it matter? She was nobody.”

You were taken aback by his answer, she didn’t know sign language?… “But you were intimate with her- I mean-“ You started talking again but he cut you letting out an exasperated sigh, he lifts one of your hands, pressing it flat against his chest, his heart beating a steady, strong rhythm beneath your palm. Hyunjin signs, his movements sharp and clear, as if he was trying to make his point very clear, “I. Didn’t. Enjoy. It.”

You stared at him with a more relaxed expression.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, his eyes searching your face, trying to read your expression. Then, his hand slides down, cupping the side of your jaw, his thumb tracing the line of your bottom lip.

Hyunjin signs again, his movements softer this time, almost tender “The only one who matters… is you.”, then again, “Only. You.”

He moves, lowering himself against you, his body caging you beneath him, his hand still holding your face, his thumb running over your bottom lip again.

You shiver, you had to admit that in the last period you started seeing Hyunjin as more than… your usual best friend.

Hyunjin tilts your head back, exposing the column of your throat, his eyes zeroed in on the pulse point that fluttered wildly beneath your skin. His nose grazes your jawline, inhaling the scent that’s so distinctly you, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. His body is all hard planes and taut muscles, press against you from above, pinning you down, the heat radiating off of him almost feverish. He shifts against you, settling his hips between your legs, fitting them together like two puzzle pieces.

“Always you” he signs.

You smile at him, probably the most sincere smile you ever done, everything about this moment is making you want more and more.

Hyunjin watches your smile, his eyes tracing over the curve of your lips. It’s a good reaction, he thinks, although not nearly enough; He signs, “More”, and without warning he pressed his fingers on your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth.

As you gasp your friend takes advantage of it to claim your mouth, his lips devouring yours, his tongue delving in, tasting you, claiming you.

He swallows the sound you made, his hands roaming down your sides, his fingers digging into your hips, pinning you in place as his mouth continues to plunder yours.

You immediately close yours eyes, that’s the more you wanted.

Hyunjin doesn’t stop, his lips moving fiercely against yours, his tongue sweeping over every inch of your mouth. He can feel your body trembling beneath his, the soft sounds you’re making spurring him on, only adding fuel to the fire that’s burning inside him.

He breaks the kiss for a brief moment, just long enough to sign, “You taste like mine.”

You look directly into his eyes and signs “it tastes right to me”

Hyunjin huffs, the corners of his lips curving up in a half-smile at your response. He likes that, you agreeing, confirming his possessiveness over you.

He dips his head, his mouth attaching to the skin below your collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, his tongue leaving trails of heat in its wake.

You try not to make loud noises to let your other friends sleep but slowly you moan begin to be louder and louder.

Hyunjin can practically feel the way you’re holding back. He knows you’re trying to be quiet, to not give in too easily, and it only makes him more determined to break you. He continues his assault on your neck and collarbone, his hands slipping under the edge of your shirt, his fingers tracing the waistband of your panties.

You can’t help but whine, the desire burning inside of you at every touch.

His lips curve into a smile against your skin, feeling the way you’re starting to unravel in his hands.

Hyunjin slowly, torturously, moves lower, his mouth trailing a path down your body, until he’s leaving a trail of hickeys down your chest and stomach.

You are so sensitive to him, every kiss and every bite makes you squirm from pleasure.

He nips and kisses at the skin just above your panties, his hands running up and down your thighs, his touches firm but gentle at the same time, almost teasing. Hyunjin can feel the heat of your core so close to his mouth, and it’s taking all his self-control to not give in immediately.

“Pull- pull them off” your plea make him laugh a little.

He looks up at you, his eyes darkened in desire, his hands resting on the inside of your thighs, his fingers pressing against the sensitive skin there, parting your legs more.

He signs with one hand, his movements almost rough, “Perfect”.

He lows your panties and pull them aside before lifting your legs on his shoulder to have a better access to you, “So wet for me?” he signs.

You laugh a little at his sarcastic sign feeling his hot breaths against your core.

Hyunjin moans softly when his tongue touches your clit, the sound a deep rumble in his chest, the first time you’ve heard him make any noise that’s not signing. He slides his hands beneath your hips, lifting your hips up, pushing your legs further apart, his mouth moving against your folds savoring the moment.

You are already lost in pleasure, your lips parted and eyes locked into him, the way his tongue makes circular movement over your sensitive clit and penetrates your tiny hole make you shiver so bad.

He can feel how close you are, the way your body is tensing beneath his touch, the sounds you’re making growing more urgent, more desperate. He keeps going, his tongue swirling and swirling, bringing you to the edge and keeping you there, waiting for the moment when you’ll finally fall.

You hold onto to the bed sheets “hyunjin-“

He can feel the way you’re shaking, how hard you’re trying not to come undone just yet, and it only makes him more determined to push you over the edge. He lifts his head for a moment, his mouth and chin glistening with your slick, just long enough to sign to you again, “Cum for me” his fingers press into your hip, holding you in place, his eyes dark with lust, his voice a growled command.

You come undone with a loud moan as he watches you intently, his eyes taking in every reaction, every sound you make. He can see the way your body trembles, the way your eyes slide shut as you fall over the edge, and he swallows a growl of satisfaction, his tongue continuing to lick you, prolonging your orgasm until you’re practically begging for him to stop. He lifts his head, a small smirk on his face, and lifts himself up, his hands running up the length of your body, until he’s hovering over you, his eyes locked on yours.

You blush while catching some air, “come here, please”.

He leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing slightly heavier than normal. He lifts one of his hands, his fingers brushing through your hair, an uncharacteristically gentle gesture from the normally stoic guy. He signs, his fingers moving slowly, “Say it again.”

You smile “I want you here, near me, Hyunjin”.

He huffs, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. He pulls back, letting his eyes roam over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks, your damp hair, the way you’re looking at him with a mixture of need and desire.

He signs, his movements steady and sure, “I’m never gonna let you go”.

You laugh a little “that’s a threat?”.

He signs “a promise”.

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse @eastjonowhere

(comment to be added to the master list🎐)

[luveline]

hi could you do james maybe massaging reader with persistent back pain? he'd be a total sweetheart about it

fem!reader

James is heavier than he looks. 

“I resent that,” he says after you’ve told him so breathlessly, shifting his weight off of your thighs as much as he possibly can. 

“No, you’re fine, just don’t press on my back,” you say. 

“I have to press on it. A bit.” He leans down, arms either side of you, your face hidden in the blankets beneath. “I’m not going to hurt you, yeah? If I do anything unbearable, all you need to do is tell me.” He smells nice, so close, the after effects of his macadamia oil shampoo. 

“I feel like I’m about to have major surgery.” 

“Don’t mind the scalpels.”

He begins with very gentle movements, almost like he’s going to turn you around and start kissing you. You laugh as he pushes your shirt up, but can’t find it in you to keep going when his lips press gentle and warm to the centre of your spine. You’ve been in a lot of pain recently and your boyfriend has yet to falter. It was his suggestion that he give you a massage, and his own volition to have researched how to do it. 

“I’m gonna use more pressure slowly,” he says, making palm-circles against your skin, “and it might hurt some, but if it’s too much, if it’s even a little over your threshold, I’ll stop.” 

“I’m not worried.” You can’t take his entire weight, but some pressure might be nice. “Just no tackles.” 

“No promises.” 

He gives a very nice, very soft massage for a time, the brunt of his palms pushing into your back and up to the line of your bra. He pushes just under it and murmurs about how cold you are, though his constant touching warms you soon enough. When he begins pressing, the pain twinges funny. It hurts in strange places and James chases into knots and stringy muscle with quiet dedication, the room a quiet sanctuary made of your shared breaths and his occasional kiss. 

You could fall asleep. Your eyes closed, arms crossed in front of you, weirdly close to him but not close enough. “Come hug me,” you say tiredly. 

“Is this doing anything besides putting you to sleep?”

You’re not totally sure. It feels nice regardless, and you’re glad for it when he ignores your demand to press his palm deep into the base of your spine. 

He slides from the small to the top, where he unclips your bra and presses both hands to your shoulders. “Pardon me.” 

“Not a gentleman. Didn’t even ask.” 

“What’s that?” he asks, working his thumb into a particularly sore muscle and drawing out a staggered sigh. “Oh,” —his joking falls away immediately— “that felt good?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, turning your face to the side. 

“Want me to do it again?” he asks earnestly. 

He massages until you’re sure his wrists are sore and you’ve discovered a new kind of nap, your back thoroughly worked over, aching and relieved at once. He climbs off of you and doesn’t say a thing about how his own back probably hurts from so long bent over you, peeling out of his shirt and nudging you across the bed to make room for him. He scoops you onto his chest, and for the first time in ages your back doesn’t twinge. 

“Thanks so much, James,” you say, eyes already heavy, face buried in his neck. 

He kisses the tip of your nose. You’re welcome. 

[revelboo]

Idk if you have seen this starscream or not but do you think can do transformers armada starscream x reader? I have a real soft spot for him. He deserves some love ❤️

I can try- my knowledge of Armada is a bit thin

Even If It Kills Me

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Helm tipping back as the sun drips through the leaves and dapples him in spots of warmth, he can almost relax out here, far from home. Nearby, he can hear Jetstorm, Runway, and Sonar splashing in the lake as they dart along the rocky shore. Knows the Autobots would probably not like it if they knew he was out alone with the Mini-Cons, but also that the three of them deserve some peace from the fighting. It’s Sonar tapping his ped that makes him look down and it doesn’t take the mini-con’s frantic hand gestures to realize that there’s only two of them. Runway is gone. Primus, it’s like having sparklings sometimes. “Show me,” he growls tiredly as Sonar and Jetstorm both point into the woods framing the clearing and the lake.

• Leaning across the engine to get at the intake manifold while trying to not drop anything inside the engine, the little beeping chirp from behind you almost makes you brain yourself on the hood. Like you need any more injuries, your face is still swollen and your split lip burns as you turn to look and do drop a tool into the engine, hearing it clanging. Because there’s a little robot just taller than you standing behind you, red visor glowing as it startles at the noise of the dropped tool. A kid in a costume? It looks real as you push yourself back and your feet hit the gravel. “Where’d you come from, buddy?” Because your house is well off the road. It’s not moving closer, but not retreating either, so you approach it. It’s not a costume, it can’t be. It’s too cannily made for that. You’d known robots were getting advanced, but why is it out here wandering around? It shies away when you try to touch it and you hold up your hands, palms out. “Okay. We’re good.”

• Not expecting it to cautiously reach out and press its palm to yours, head tipping as it chirps at you. “Hope you’re not a first gen terminator, buddy.” And then it’s carefully gripping your hand to play with your fingers and thumb, seeing how they move and you inhale, but its touch is shockingly gentle as it makes little beeping sounds to itself. It’s inquisitive as it plucks at your flannel shirt and then touches your hair. “Not a fan of personal space, huh?” Its head tips, visor flickering like it’s uncertain.

• Branches clawing at him as he moves through the woods, forcefully making a path, when he breaks free of the tree line, he freezes because he hasn’t realized he was so close to a human dwelling. And there’s a human in the yard right there standing in front of Runway as the mini-con chirps. And you and Runway both freeze as he crashes out of the tree line, Sonar and Jetstorm running toward their brother before stopping short when they notice the human. You’re just staring up at him and he knows he’s supposed to be hidden on this world and not be seen.

• There’s two more you sized robots, but you can’t tear your eyes from the giant red one scowling down at you. The little guys are cute, but this one? Are these his babies? Is he about to stomp you for messing with one of them? “Human,” he growls, taking a thunderous step forward and that’s it for your ability to deal with this nonsense. You throw up a hand at him and start speed walking for the house. Cause nope. No, thank you. You have enough problems without this too.

• You’re ignoring him? Venting raggedly, he strides after you and insinuates his ped between you and the door to your house. And you stare up at him, one eye squinting, the skin around it discolored. “If you let me go, I’ll pretend none of this ever happened, okay?” You say, little arms crossing. “You go do your giant robot, kaiju thing and I’ll go get drunk until I forget this. Everyone wins.” And you grin at him, wincing and darting your tongue out to touch your split lip. Those little injuries shouldn’t mean a thing to him. Except, they strike a chord and he hates it. Because he knows what it’s like to be someone else’s punching bag. You’re just a human, you mean nothing to him, but as Runway chirps up at him almost pleadingly, he bends to curl his servos around you. Or tries to, because reaching for you shatters your odd calm and there’s the fear he expected. And you bolt.

Next

Added a bitty Soundwave plush to my Soundwave Jeep. There’s a lot to do to get ready for Jeep Jam in May

[waywardprintmaker]

I have noticed that a lot of fics make Sebastian the one who falls first, the ones who pines and dreams of something more, but there's something that's so compelling about Ominis, the sickly, traumatised, disabled victorian child imprinting on his first ever friend like a baby duck and never letting go.

Ominis finding out for the first time what playfighting is, playfighting that doesn't leave you scratched and bruised and hurt. He finds Sebastian, a boy brimming with energy and affection and it's Sebastian who introduces Ominis to the concept of playful touch, cheap sweets and games that spit at your expensive robes with smelly liquid - revelations that open up an entirely new world for Ominis.

At first, it’s just puppy love. Ominis thinks it’s normal to be this attached to your best friend, right? But as they grow older, those innocent feelings gradually shift into something much stronger—much stronger. And the thing is, Ominis is totally aware of it. He knows exactly how deep his feelings for Sebastian have become, and that awareness makes everything harder. He’s fully conscious of how he hangs on to every laugh, every touch, every quiet moment between them, and he knows it’s more than friendship. He just can’t stop himself. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

For Ominis, Sebastian isn't just a friend - he's a lifeline, a source of warmth and safety in a world that had previously offered little of either. Every laugh, every gentle touch, every shared moment becomes a treasure that Ominis holds dear.

But the fear of losing the one bright spot in his life keeps those feelings hidden, even as they threaten to overflow. Each time Sebastian draws near or chuckles at one of Ominis' dry jokes, you can almost feel Ominis holding his breath, wondering if he's reading too much into these simple interactions. And Sebastian? Sebastian just laughs, playfully taps him on the shoulder and goes back to boasting about his latest duel victories. Like he's unaware a dam is about to burst right next to him. Ominis keeps the dam strong. Hopes he can keep it strong forever.

Of course he fell first.

[thegoldencontracts]

Hey! Can I suggest a tired & flustered Azul or Leona? Both are personal favorites

Hihi I gotchuu anon thank you for the requestt <3

also a bit off-topic but im indian-american (not native, like the asian country) and im the same shade as as leona which is why i hate hate hate when people talk about him blushing it'd be vy hard to see and i know its so weird and theyre good writers blah blah blah just a little pet peeve

Leona Kingscholar

You were currently being pulled into the arms of none other than the Prince of Afterglow, Leona Kingscholar. That wasn't particularly new - ever since you two started dating, Leona seemed to have a newfound love of cuddling you. It was pretty cute, actually. He really did act like a big cat sometimes.

Today, though, he seemed especially tired. He was always a bit tired - you knew why, and it wasn't a pretty story, but you had to digress - today, he seemed even more tired than usual.

It made sense. He had to pull an all-nighter yesterday catching up on paperwork for the Spelldrive club, something you still couldn't believe he'd actually done instead of just throwing the job onto Ruggie.

Still, he looked just about ready to collapse. You were getting pretty concerned.

"Wanna go to bed?" You asked, taking the opportunity to card your fingers through his hair. For once, he didn't try to hide the way he leaned into the touch. He pouted, though, and at that moment, you thought your heart was going to explode.

Leona, calm, always composed Leona was pouting at you. He looked almost like a kid right now.

You couldn't help the hearty laugh that escaped you. Leona huffed at you, angling his face in a way that made his dark circles much too prominent.

"Really, though," you said. "Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning."

Leona mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"Come with me, herbivore," he said, more mumbled, and though it wasn't visible, you could tell he was blushing. The way he couldn't meet your eyes said it all.

He was surprisingly honest today.

He probably took your silence for teasing or the like, because he turned away with a huff.

"You can," he said. "I don't really care either way."

You smiled. It was genuine, not an ounce of teasing. You weren't going to do that, now when it was already so hard for him to be more vulnerable with you. It was overjoying just to know he was being honest.

"I'll take you up on that offer," you said, and that poorly hidden smile made every moment you'd have to spend listening to him snore worth it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was working this evening. That was fine - he'd literally taken you out on a date so custom-tailored to you it made you wonder how exactly he knew you so well yesterday, you weren't going to complain about his performance as your beloved.

But he seemed tired. No, no, that was an understatement. He seemed like he was about to pass out any moment now. And yet, by some miracle, he was still working.

You had to perform well has his beloved, too. And that meant taking care of him when he was ill - or in this case, so tired he might as well have been.

"Azul?" you called out, and the thirty seconds it took him to process your voice and turn to look at you said it all. "Don't you think you should go to bed?"

After a few seconds, he shook his head blearily.

"'Can't," he mumbled, his words slurred. "Work."

You vaguely understood what he was trying to say. He couldn't sleep, he had work to do.

But it didn't seem like he was going to get much done in his current state other than pass out.

"Sleep, please," you said, and you were honestly shocked at how gentle your voice sounded. Being in love with Azul really did things to you, huh?

"But the money!" he whined, and you couldn't help but laugh. The money? That's what he cared about right now? How much money did he actually think he'd lose from sleeping? "'Want money."

This was the love of your life. This man.

Seeing you laugh, he huffed, cheeks bright red.

"Stop laughing," he said, pouting. "Ugh. 'S why you have no money."

Cold, Azul. Cold. Even in his current state, he had to remind you of your painfully broke reality.

"Then you'll have to help me make some, then." You said, trying to appeal to his love of rambling about finance. "Why don't you teach me? We can go to your room while we're at it, more privacy that way."

He nodded shakily, cheeks still a bit pink.

"I'm very-" he cut himself off, trying to pronounce somthing. "'Nevolent. Be-ne-vo-lent. I'll help you."

"Thank you so much," you said, and he followed you to his room.

You couldn't wait to see how embarrassed he'd get in the morning.

Bonus (Of sorts):

"I said what?"

"Yeah, and your face was so red! You kept slurring over your words, too. You couldn't even say 'benevolent'! Isn't that, like, your signature word?"

"Stop teasing me already!"

[mamayan]

oof your writing is so good 🙈 if your requests are open, would you be willing to write smth for dabi with a nervous virgin reader? Maybe some fingering and petting, lots of praise and encouragement if you're okay with that!! I also wouldn't mind if theres a little dubcon scattered in there for flavour😳 Thank you!🙏

Fuck it’s his favorite— absolutely I will Nonnie♥️ Dabi is nothing if not the perfect gentlemen… sorta. Am I gonna get sued for changing his words in this manga panel? I got carried away with this lol

Yandere Dabi x Virgin! Darling

tw: NSFW • Fem! Darling • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse • Dubcon • Praise • Virgin! Darling • BDSM • Fingering • Oral • Sex (M)(F) • Denial/Edging • Overstimulation • Dacryphilia • Unprotected Sex • Creampie

The front door slammed loud enough to reverberate around the apartment.

You sat facing the small tv, the screen playing some sort of cartoon with the volume on low, unmoving even as the thuds of his boots against vinyl faux wood flooring became louder. You were curled around your legs, pulled to your chest as your bare feet seemed to absorb the cold around you, icy skin keeping you grounded. Only a thin ratty oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts covering your body, despite the broken thermostat keeping the apartment at almost freezing temperatures.

Dark combat boots entered your field of vision, you numbly let your eyes flick up to take him in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, the burning scent making acid bubble up in your stomach to your throat, but you meekly swallowed it down and gave a wobbly smile. “W-welcome home…” it was said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking towards his execution.

He crouches down to face you better, forearms resting on his knees as he levels you with a… soft look.

It has chills shooting down your spine, your stomach rolling and clenching while your chest heaves with anxiety. He’s not a soft man. He’s never been soft, not really, only in strange sporadic moments does he gently do anything to you, but it’s always followed by something sinister. Always.

“Hey pet, you cold?” He’s sadistic and cruel even on a good day. His words immediately making your eyes burn as you try to stop the impending tears. You’re always cold, left freezing locked up until his return, your only source of comfort and warmth him. It was a nasty play, logically you knew it, but logic was what got you hurt so you nodded despite the itch in your heart begging you to hold out a little longer. “M’cold…” you assent, unable to see the defeated dull look in your own eyes, but he could.

“C’mere then,” his smile is so sweet, his staples hardly pulling and his usually vibrant eyes more subdued and gentle. You wanted him to stop whatever game he’s playing now. Whatever sick trick he’s got hidden to make your walls crumble around you. His arms spread open, his knees hitting the floor so he could straighten his spine, and his embrace looking so warm.

Like selling your soul to the devil, you caved. Pathetically nearly falling as you all but threw yourself into him.

The fire wielding psychopath was a lot of things, and sadly running warmer than a normal person was one of them. Just being close to him was like sitting near a furnace, heat radiating off him in waves it seemed. You had all the time in the world to hate yourself when he inevitably left you again to nearly freeze, for now you focused on getting feeling back into your limbs as you pressed yourself as close as possible.

His chuckle is breathy as he wraps you up easily, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on his ass now, your thighs on either side of his to let you be as physically close as possible. Well, almost as physically close as possible, because when you were so desperate for his touch like this, it’s hard not to think about you begging for him to really warm you up.

“Better?” He doesn’t really need to ask, not when you’re fighting to keep your hands from digging under his shirt and getting more body heat from him. Your little sigh of contentment adorable, and while his day was mundane, he did get to release most of his pent up frustration on some lowlife pieces of shit. He was in a good mood, but he’d be in a better one soon.

“Hn” your little affirmation quiet as you rested your cheek against the exposed skin of his collarbone, breathing him in and relaxing as your stiff muscles and joints soaked his warmth up greedily. You didn’t even fight when his hands began to smooth over your skin, up your calves and thighs to your ass where he gave a little squeeze. You put up no resistance, no screaming or fighting tonight it seemed. “You still cold?” His lips are right are by your ear, warm breath blowing over it and sending a shiver of something… different down to your stomach. The stale cigarette scent wasn’t as bothersome to you when he wasn’t being mean it seemed.

You let him pet and stroke your skin, warming you up gradually and shifting you both around until your core was against his stomach and he was flat on his back. He even lifted up his shirt and your own a bit to give more contact, the staples across his chest smoother than you’d initially thought.

This was all wrong and you were without a doubt being soothed into… something. Peace? A sense of safety? Whatever it was, you mentally kept yourself prepared. Even if his touch was soft and careful, you knew what lurked behind those pretty eyes.

“You stopped shakin’…” his observation was more of a statement, but indeed you had warmed up enough not to shiver anymore. He wasn’t usually so nice as to help warm you up like this, usually making you drop to your knees and cling to him while he heckled your behavior.

Your world flipped too quickly to react. Your back now on the cool floor with his body looming over you.

“You’re still cold though, aren’t you pet?” His smile isn’t nice anymore.

“D-Dabi please…”

“What’s wrong, you don’t want me to warm you up anymore?” It was a thinly veiled threat that had you nearly delirious with panic in seconds.

“N-no I do! I do, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes filling with tears made him bite down hard on his tongue, tasting blood as he struggles to keep himself calm. It’s you after all. You weren’t some cheap whore he screwed for a quick release. You were his.

That meant something. Whether it was good or bad was debatable and complicated.

“Then let me warm you up, it’ll be faster like this,” he’s not lying. Even as he laughs at the confusion and waring emotions on your face, he really isn’t lying to you this time.

His lips aren’t soft. The kiss nothing like the ones you’d sneakily shared with a crush under the school bleachers, that kiss was a bit too wet and slimy. This one was commanding. His tongue easily slipping into your mouth in your shock, happy to invade and taste you, to share the overwhelming taste of tobacco. Your hands are tangled in his coat, tugging lightly on the fabric as he devours your mouth. He pulls back when you start to struggle, and the sight of your swollen parted lips has his pants uncomfortably tight. His zipper digging into his cock now.

“Dabi—,” your voice is barely even a whisper, almost inaudible but he catches it and pauses as he looks down at you carefully.

The fact that he’s even being careful should be considered as a mercy.

“Please be gentle…” your lips twist into a grimace, the lame line the only thing your muddled mind can conjure. His snort of amusement not helping your wounded pride, but as he shrugs his coat off and looks down at you, his words give you pause.

“I’m going to make you forget everything bad tonight pet.”

He doesn’t elaborate. You don’t need him to. You don’t want this. It doesn’t matter though, because you never wanted any of this. His sanity not even in question, because he’s clearly out of his damn mind and has been for quite a while.

His shirt is next, revealing his chest in the dim light of the tv still playing quietly, the words not even registering as a language you understood. The damaged flesh leathery and colored a dark purple in contrast to his healthy skin. You lay limp and almost defeated beneath him, watch as his hands deftly remove your own shirt, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked… this would be the first he’s touched you so intimately. Your breasts exposed to the cool air harden quickly, his smile predatory as he leans over your chest to flick one with his tongue.

The sensation shoots straight to your pussy.

“Pretty little pet, are you scared?” His question is rhetorical, but you hate how he just seems to know your thoughts and feelings. So much so you wanted to ask if he hide a second quirk. In a last act of defiance, you shake your head. You are scared, terrified of what else there even is to lose because this evil man seems determined to take and have all of you. He’s insatiable for whatever you have, like a vampire taking the life right out of you. Except he won’t kill you, even if sometimes you wished he would. To end this game.

“Pfft, you look so serious,” his face is filled with only hunger and amusement, as he lets his rough palms rest over your breasts, squeezing lightly as he lets himself just take you in. His hands drag over your much softer skin, looking at the odd scar here and there left by his flames during the early days of your readjustment period. He lets one hand rest just over the mound of your pussy, still covered by the thin shorts that hardly covered anything. He’s quiet, and so are you, as you breathe and struggle to stay still for whatever this was. You imagined it to be more violent, less pathetic on your end, as if you’d given up without a fight.

Your tears of frustration finally broke and trailed down your cheeks, your brows furrowed and cheeks puffed as you try to stay silent and uphold whatever amount of dignity you had left. You wouldn’t beg him to stop, it only spurred him on. When his eyes looked back up, the image of you nearly drove him feral as he grinned, giddy with excitement in lieu of you crying. His snicker of approval only making you flinch back as his fingers hook inside the waist band of the shorts and your underwear.

“Keep crying pet. Maybe a hero will come to save you?” His words drip sarcasm as he now roughly yanks your bottoms down and off your body in one swift motion. You’re left completely nude and shivering as the cold seeps back into your body as you lay on the floor. “I don’t think any heroes even patrol this side of town anymore. Too dirty and messy, they can’t be bothered to save people here. So I guess that leaves just you n’me.” He’s not looking at your face, though he’d be elated to see the look of crushed hope painting your features, instead his eyes were trained on your tightly shut thighs. The soft skin a bit distorted from how hard you squeezed them closed. His dark hair falling a bit into his gaze as he easily digs his fingers roughly into your flesh to pry them open.

“Hii!” You cry of pain and shock adorable to his eyes as he gets an eye full in the dim light of your wet pussy.

“Better keep these spread pet, if I gotta open them again for you, I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” His eyes are fierce and foreboding as they meet your gaze, and fear keeps you compliant as you obey and keep your legs open where he left them. He smiles in approval, humming to himself as he begins to undo his belt and open up his pants.

He shifts to one handedly yanking his pants down to free his aching cock, his free hand moving to his open mouth to layer on his own saliva to his fingers. The wet digits brought to your pussy as you whimper, gently spreading your folds and admiring it as he grips his hard cock in his hand. You make the mistake of looking at it.

He’s covered in piercings. His cock long and thick, more so in the middle, with a slight upward curve… but there’s two distinct barbs through his dick on both sides, with the tip sporting one prominent one that had you wanting to disobey and close your legs anyway. It looked frightful and painful if anything else, and you briefly wondered if he did this to ensure his victims were thoroughly tormented at every step.

“Fuck look at you baby, so pretty like this aren’t you?” He’s gently poking and circling your clit, loving each little scared gasp and unsure look you shoot his way. He can tell it feels good for you, but with the uncertainty and fear factor of his looks and his cock, you’re wound tight in apprehension. He thinks it’s a beautiful sight on you. Your little sniffles and pouty lips captivate him into leaning over you again, licking your lips until you open and let him kiss you again. It’s languid and lazy like him, proving how good his mood currently is by how he’s taking his time with you. Your hands stay by your side, gripped tight into fists as you feel a finger begin to push inside of you.

He breaks the kiss the time, looking down to see you take his finger.

“Not so bad is it pet?” He wiggled and pushes it as deep as he can go, loving how your back aches and chest juts out in his face for easy access. He’s nice as he works you open with one finger, lavishing your sore nipples with licks and bites. You keep the moans soft and low, struggling to hate this like you thought you would.

It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. That was the problem. Dabi never makes you feel good, he torments you like a cat with a mouse. That’s why he calls you pet.

So when he squeezes in a second finger and you moan louder? You nearly knock a tooth out slapping a hand over your lips in embarrassment.

“No you don’t,” his fingers rip free from your tight cunt, both hands gripping your wrists and pinning them with one hand above your head. He grabs his jacket, using the arms to make a makeshift cuff to lock your hands together. “Keep’’em right there,” he orders, and by his stern features you know he means it.

Tired of just testing the waters, Dabi crawls down your body in favor of bringing his face directly before your pussy. “Dabi?” Your head lifted to try and see him as he wraps his arms under your hips to hoist you up higher towards his awaiting mouth. “Been thinkin’ of how this pussy tastes for months,” he grins, letting his pierced tongue run from your dripping hole to your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as your legs jolt and snap around his head.

You realize quickly and apologize, opening them to avoid any punishment.

“Good girl~” you don’t like how his praise warms you up further, your shaking now less from cold or fear and more from arousal.

He repeats his first few licks, before beginning to truly lavish your pretty cunt with his tongue and skills. Dabi isn’t actually an experienced man, most women fearful or disgusted by him for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out your reactions and follow the flow of your pleasure. The way you twitched and moaned, struggled to keep your hands in the spot he ordered you to, to keep your legs spread, he loved all of it. When your moans became high pitched whimpers and whines, and your muscles spasmed, he knew you were close.

“D-Dabi I think I—,” you were so close, core wound so tight you could snap at any second, and for the first time you liked what he was doing to you.

Until he stopped.

“No—!” Your cry was embarrassing, as you shook beneath him in horror of your own reaction. Panting and trying to catch your breath as your pleasure faded by the second, his Cheshire grin soaking up your disappointment eagerly. Of course he would, you felt bitter, even as he returned to licking and sucking your clit. Only when the build up returned did you relax again, moving your hips up a little as you neared the crest once more…

He stopped again.

“Dabi—!” Your indignant tone telling as you huffed, sweat beginning to dot your skin despite the cool temperatures, Dabi’s warmth even removed like this helping.

Your stomach ached with the urge to cum. “Something wrong pet?” His face said he knew what was wrong, but it seemed he wanted you to say it. Instead you stubbornly pressed your lips together, his shrug of nonchalance following as he returned to kissing and sucking, slower and more gradually building you up again.

Even if you mentally prepared for it, he let you get much closer to coming than the previous times, so when he pulled away, your legs clamped tight around his head to stop him. “Fuck, please Dabi,” you hated yourself. Hated how he held so much power over you.

If you didn’t look so cute, he’d probably punish you too for not listening.

“Please what?” You watch as he lets a drop of his salvia drip into your pussy, your trembling legs pushed open again by his hands as he stares up at you.

“P-please…” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him anymore of yourself but… “—please make me cum.”

He looks like that cat which got the milk. His satisfaction palpable as he laughs. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Since you said please.” His teasing tone muffled again soon by your wet pussy, his aggressive approach now much more intense as he eats you out with the purpose of making you cream his face now.

It doesn’t take long before the string violently snaps inside you, your orgasm intense and nearly painful as you come apart.

“Ah, yes, oh—,” you try to shift away, his tongue still laving your clit as he looks up at you, narrow gaze teasing and telling as you whine. “D-Dabi I-I already—ah please!” You almost bite your tongue when he sucks hard on your clit, your panic building with another orgasm. You moan, your head thrown back as your fingers grip and tug on the binding of his coat, hips shaking as you come again.

His lower face is soaked, but he can’t find it in himself to stop as he licks up all your release and noses your clit. Switching his assault to inside of your quivering hole, letting his wet hot tongue slither in, licking and poking your walls. He moans with you now, relaxing as he lets himself get comfortable, leaning against your thigh he has propped up now with his arm keeping you locked in position. He’s lazily feasting as you come again, this time breaking his rule and trying to push his face away with your hands still bound.

He doesn’t even stop then, just uses his free hand to grip the fabric and anchor your hands to your stomach as he continues to work you into another frenzy.

“S’too much! Stop! Stop Dabi! Please fuck, I can’t, ugh, no more—,” your pleas are ignored as he laughs, eyes crinkling as he watches you twitch and jolt with even the tiniest amount of pressure to your clit now.

“I thought you wanted to cum? Change your mind already?” You can hardly manage a full sentence, gasping for air like he’s choked you or something. He relents though, only because his cock is close to shooting his load even though he hadn’t touched himself while playing with you. Using his coat, he lifts your hands back above your head and scoots forward to let his heated cock slap against your wet folds. His hips automatically jerking a few times as his dick feels the soft wet heat your cunt is soaked in.

“You want my cock pet?” You look delirious and exhausted, sweat making your hair cling to your face as you briefly almost admit to being too warm now. Your both chilled and overheated as your sweat dries. Your blurry vision glances down to his throbbing length peaking at you from below, the heavy rod sliding back and forth through your slick and causing your pussy to twitch as he nudges your clit with it.

“S’not gonna fit…” his lip nearly splits on his smile, the cute admission only making him wanna shove it in you more to prove it will fit.

“You don’t think so?” His eyes look inhumanly blue from the cast of whatever show played on the tv now. One hand stays to keep your own pinned, while the other travels down your soft body to grip his cock and line himself up. “‘Cuz I think it will,” then he’s pushing in. His tip goes in easier as it gets crushed by your tight convulsing cunt, the rest engorged by blood feels painful as you cry, Dabi moaning as your gooey walls try to force him out. “I think,” one sharp thrust sinks a whole inch in, your eyes opening wide as tears spill freely, “I’ll get my entire cock in,” he pulls out only a little before shoving in a little more again. “And you know what else I think?” He’s leering down at you, manic grin frightening with the added shadows cast. You can feel his piercings, tugging and forcing themselves inside as he shifts and pushes, nearly stealing your ability to breathe.

“I think you’re gonna like it.” You can’t talk and he knows it, as his tip kisses your cervix, and then it’s bruising it as he shoves himself to entire way in, gasping in pleasure he sees himself fully sheathed inside you. His groin flush with your ass. Your walls so tight it feels impossible to pull out now. It doesn’t matter to Dabi though, as he grits his teeth and rocks forward and back, creating delicious friction on his cock. You’re left to sniffle and cry, pussy stretched painfully wide and aching deep inside from how his rough entrance.

“Poor little crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning closer to lick the tears off your cheeks as he finally gets himself wet enough to begin a slow pace inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, burying his face in your neck for a moment while he ruts into you, quick short thrusts working him close to his orgasm. His hand works between you, thumbing your clit as you cry and writhe beneath him, pussy clenching and relaxing as you’re forced to cum with something thick, hot, and painfully heavy inside your cunt.

“Shitttt,” his teeth sink into your neck, grunting as his balls draw tight and he pumps his boiling load deep into your womb, pushing even deeper as it twitched and spurts. Your legs locking and trembling as you see stars.

He stills for a moment, catching his breath quickly as he lifts up to look at your ruined appearance. Your face covered in tears as you pant, eyes nearly closed as struggle to stay awake. Your pussy even messier, slick and cum coating you both and the floor, a tiny bit of pink mixed too.

The thought that it was him who ruined your innocence, taken your first and last, has him hardening again inside you.

You can only whine, silently pleading for a break, but his answering smile is familiar and devious.

“C’mon pet, we’re just getting started tonight.” He chuckles, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming into you now. The shock woke you up fully, pussy protesting the rough treatment he sets as the room fills with salacious noises, your pussy squelching with each slap of his balls. The piercing on his tip hitting a new angle as he leans back and jerks your hips up off the floor.

“Oh!” Your vision goes black as you cum, and Dabi only laughs and fucks you harder as you pass out, loving the stupid expression on your fucked out face.

“That’s it pet, said I was gonna make you forget!” He’s emptying another load inside you not longer after, his own dick becoming a bit overstimulated but too engrossed fucking you to stop yet. With you half conscious, it’s easy to slip out and flip you to your stomach before sliding back in smoothly. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, taking my cock like you were made for it,” his words are slurred in his pleasure, his hips working against your ass as he drags his slick cock out of your pussy before working it back in. He’s even deeper like this, your belly and hips flat on the floor as he fucks you.

You can’t even remember why you didn’t want this anymore. The pleasure and warmth overwhelming and so perfect.

At least as he fills your pussy again, you don’t feel cold.