dr-edge

[hiimaye]

uncle aaron was too fine to be single

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[darlingdekarios]

the best thing.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,608 content: Gale Dekarios x f!tav [f!reader], porn with plot, established relationship (engaged), post-Baldur's Gate III canon, fluff, domestic bliss, smut [fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie], kink(s) [overstimulation, orgasm control, hands, hair pulling, body worship]

after everything the two of you have been through, you're eager to give Gale one perfect, blissful day.

It was almost unbelievable seeing you bathed in the golden hues of the morning standing in his kitchen, back to him as you fussed over whatever it was you currently had sizzling on the stove. It was so rare that he was able to sneak upon you these days - you were so attuned to one another that simply entering the same room was enough of a greeting.

But now you were focused, far too much so to notice your lover's entrance, or even to notice him for several more moments as he leaned against the doorframe, peacefully enjoying the serenity that being near to you caused. Even this was enough to fill his heart with love.

"If there should ever come a day when your presence does not fill this tower again it will surely be a day without sunrise."

You turned to him and offered a smile that rivaled the sun itself in beauty and warmth, every bit as life sustaining to him. You were wearing an apron he often donned in the kitchen, the fabric graffitied with streaks of color and puffs of powder. He was struck as he so often was with you, offering nothing more than a smile in return that reached his eyes as he remained transfixed by you - the very center of his universe and far beyond anything his goddess had ever shown him in beauty.

"There are painters who envy me of this privilege. To wake to such beauty in my own home every day…I truly am a fortunate man."

You would never tire of the way Gale's words spread through you like warmest fire, making you feel worthy of a love such as this every moment no matter how your mind was trying to force you to feel that day. To say in the time that had passed since your adventures in bliss would be an understatement - both of you had found what could only be described as heaven in life with one another.

Everything about one another had become home, the deep love the two of you shared the kind that people prayed to the gods for.

"You wake up everyday and set out to make me love you more than the last.""

"I could say the very same to you, my love," his voice was particularly cheerful this morning and you were glad you'd decided today for your plan. It was already off to a great start, and it could truly only get better from here with what you had up your sleeve. "What has you in the kitchen at this hour? We didn't exactly get to sleep early, by any standard."

When you've gone through the things you've been through, sometimes it can feel wrong when someone looks at you with the amount of love and adoration Gale was now…the way he did so often these days. Whether you were resting in his bed, reading at his side, curled with Tara on the couch, or doing any other thing to fill the time, he looked at you now like it was what he hoped to do last in the world.

And he always would.

"I made you breakfast. Or at least…I did my best at…making you breakfast."

The smile that spread across his face was more stunning than any of the scenery in all of your adventures, not a single star or moon matching its beauty. As you were lost in your profound love for him he took the lull in conversation to close the distance to you, wrapping his arms around you and reuniting you into his warm embrace - it hadn't been long, but it was always an eternity.

He pressed several kisses to your forehead as he gazed over your shoulder, analyzing the plates you'd made for the two of you to enjoy. His brows pulled together in an expression you recognized as being deep in thought - you pressed a kiss to the lines as he spoke again.

"I know this meal…"

Your lips lifted into a smile against his skin and he reached upward to encourage you to meet his gaze again, awaiting your response and hoping it was a confirmation of what he suspected. "It was the first breakfast you made for the party. I remember how proud you were and how delicious it was…no one had ever cooked for me like that."

"Your memory is just as astounding as the rest of you," he was positively grinning at you, eyes expressive and proudly displaying every bit of love he felt for you. His head tilted to the side briefly - something you were quite fond of - as his brow furrowed again, the arm that remained around your waist pulling you closer. "It's not my birthday, is it?"

Forget loving him more by the day - you loved Gale Dekarios more by the second.

"No, dearest," you replied, reaching one of your hands upward to rest against his chest. You held his gaze as you spoke knowing he preferred when you didn't look away. "I just realized…in all the time since I've met you there have been many meals that you've made me, and I've never made you a single one."

His expression softened even more, something you didn't know was possible, pressing a gentle and loving kiss to her lips. The first kiss of the new day was always a shared favorite between the two of you - no matter how many days passed the first always created goosebumps and pulled quiet sighs of pleasure from your chests.

"You are truly are a gentle soul," he muttered against your lips, the hand that still cradled the back of your head sliding to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone tenderly. "I'm still not always entirely sure I deserve it."

"But you do," you promised, eager to hush the self doubt that still lingered in your fiancé day-to-day. It was something you were happy to live with - it never annoyed you or grew tiresome, you were more than willing to remind him how loved he was despite any mistakes he'd made in the past, that any he'd make in the future were already forgiven. "You deserve it, Gale. We've been through so much together and I was thinking…I want you to have a perfect day. I want to do anything and everything you want to do for an entire day."

"Starting with breakfast?"

You sheepishly smiled and nodded before confirming, "I know it won't be as good as when you made it, but…"

"It will be perfect," he silenced your own worries gracefully and gently before they could even begin to fester. "As most things made in love are. Would you join me on the balcony for our meal?"

It was incredible how something as mundane as sharing a meal together could become an act of utmost intimacy. With Gale even the smallest moments felt like a life's worth of promise and love - if every day was like this you would leave this life with nothing but happiness in your heart. The day passed with him like a dream, like you'd truly found the person you were meant to spend this much time with. The person you were meant to face the passing years together - who you were excited to watch more grey bloom in his hair.

After breakfast both of you had fallen asleep on the balcony in a gentle embrace, his arms holding you against his chest as you slept. When you woke, Tara was asleep on your back and so you'd continue to lay together until the tressym removed herself to carry on with her day. All the while Gale had gazed at you lovingly, stroking your hair and face when you had continued to sleep a few moments longer. He'd never tire of the serenity that filled your face in truly peaceful slumber.

For lunch Gale opted to eat by a nearby lake, the beautiful afternoon the perfect landscape for him to take a moment to indulge in a bit of poetry…about you, of course. It made you bashful when he did so - it always had and likely always would, a demure laugh passing through your lips as you tried to hide behind your hands as he poetically described the many things he loved about you.

Of course, the heat in your cheeks only increased when his poetry turned to that of describing the ways he wanted to demonstrate his love - but you were certain you were burning when he'd followed it with a kiss not entirely decent for a relatively public setting. Nevertheless, he certainly didn't seem to mind.

It continued with a trip to the bookstore, the apothecary, and to another local merchant where he bought some supplies for home and a necklace for you that yes he insisted you have, even though you now had a collection forming in the tower. Before you could finish your day in town he asked to pop down to the local inn for a quick drink.

You were well aware that this was truly just time for Gale to show off his future wife to the other patrons - something that always made you feel fantastic about yourself. The fact that the famed Wizard of Waterdeep felt pride in having you at his side was no small compliment - it was a fact you flourished in.

Back home, the two of you cooked dinner together, Gale eager to give you tips on how you could improve in the future. When it was time to eat you shared a bottle of wine that you'd selected together earlier and ate in silence, reading your new books with zero complaints even capable of being formed in your mind.

Your eyes only left the words on the pages to glance across the table to him lovingly - something you were joyous to find he mirrored frequently. It was after dinner had been cleaned up and the two of you had tidied up from the day that you found yourself in his embrace, yet again on the balcony where so much of your shared time was spent.

For a while he simply remained with his head resting atop yours, holding you gently as you shared another sunset. It was only once the sun had completely gone for the night over the horizon that he turned you in his arms slowly, eyes finding yours like it was their nature to do so, wasting no time in leaning down to kiss you again tenderly.

"Have you enjoyed your day, my heart?"

He smiled the kind of smile that pulled lines beside his eyes, eyes that were twinkling and rivaling the stars that had started to decorate the sky for the night. You could feel how content and relaxed he was in the delicate hold he maintained on you, the love pouring from him and seeming to wrap you in a tighter embrace. It was these moments where the weave truly connected the two of you, holding you together and proving that you were meant to be together in this world - and the next, if that happened to be what came.

"I have enjoyed every day by your side, even the difficult ones," his voice was so earnest there was simply no possibility of disbelief from you - you could hear the honesty soaking his words, every sentence another promise and declaration of his love for you. "But today has been perfection. I could thank you for a lifetime and it wouldn't be enough."

The kiss he gave you then was the kind that is written about in books - in fairytales, the kind that inspires poetry and signifies the truest of love. He continued to hold you against him gently as your lips entered a dance you both yearned for constantly - at this point you were no strangers to what each of you liked and it was reflected with every swipe of your tongues and movement of your lips.

And it was always until you were both breathless - never a second before. The two of you had experienced so many things together that had made so many of your early tenderness rushed - neither of you were ever in any particular rush anymore. This kiss was exactly like so many these days - savored. And yet this was only the beginning of what the two of you would savor in the night to come.

"Would you like to retire to our bedroom for the night?"

You words were light as you whispered against his lips, biting at the bottom one lightly when you finished your question. A truly pleased grin spread across his face as you pulled away, his arms still anchoring you to him - if you wanted him to he'd release you, of course, but it was never a moment too soon.

"Darling, you need only ask."

Thankfully, the bedroom was mere steps away and it was easy to tug him inside with hands gently pulling at the collar of his shirt, your lips not leaving one another for long. Though it was obvious where Gale's mind was heading - a it was difficult to deny it for much longer as it had been growing since the kiss at the lake earlier - you still had one more thing planned for him.

One of his hands slid lower to cup your ass and bring you closer, tongue seeking entry into your mouth again as he waved a hand to ensure there was some light by way of many candles. You shook your head to which he huffed, pulling away just far enough to pass you an inquisitive look.

"Not quite yet, my love," you cooed, pressing a consolation kiss to his lips briefly before pulling away fully, wrestling yourself free from his grasp with a giggle. "Remove your shirt and lie down on your stomach."

Though he muttered under his breath about it he followed your instructions, brown eyes searching your face for a response as you only sat on the bet waiting for him, always one to enjoy the sight of him undressing. When he was finally in the position you asked him to be you straddled his lower back, hands slowly rubbing the expanse of his shoulders with the perfect pressure to pull a groan from him.

And that was the end of his silent questioning - every swipe of your hand, knead from your fingers and caress was met with a moan, groan, or whine from him - as time continued on he was mumbling into his pillow about how much he loved you…repeatedly. When you reached a particular point you could practically feel tension melt away from him and you leaned downward to press a kiss to the back of his neck before encouraging him to roll with a squeeze of your legs.

And oh, was he happy to oblige - to be reunited with your face, now with the moon's glow coming through the curtains to illuminate you alongside the flickering candles. A considerable amount of time had passed since you began massaging him and still you showed no signs of stopping, continuing to straddle his waist as your efforts now focused on his chest.

"Your hands are divine," he was barely coherent through the pleasure he already felt, his words far less calculated than they're normally be. "I could lay here for a ten day and happily starve."

"I suppose you're feeling well about your day then, my love?"

It was an unnecessary question - you both knew it. But he was also just as aware that you loved to hear about the feelings your efforts had earned, and it had been a long time since he'd denied you of anything you wanted that he could provide. With his most charming smile he nodded, leaning forward to rub the tip of his nose against yours gently in an innocent show of affection.

You reached upward to run your fingers through his hair delicately, pulling a blissful sigh from his lips again. If it were possible to create a symphony from what filled your bedroom you would gladly hear its melody forever…a sentiment he'd expressed toward you once that you held at the core of your memory and found your mind circling back to often.

So much of his mind was an exact reflection of your that sometimes it seemed they were still connected sometimes.

"Absolutely blessed," when Gale spoke it was as though you were the one who could answer his prayers, something you found irresistibly sweet about him. "If you're not careful you will spoil me beyond reason."

You leaned down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss again, his hands grasping your hips again, sliding to rub over the soft expanse of your thighs. Too selfish to release his lips again you whispered into the kiss, your own hands resting on his chest still, his heartbeat steady and soothing.

"I fail to see why that would be so bad."

He could only smile into it as he continued to kiss you slowly, one of his hands sliding up to hold the back of your head delicately. He began to raise until he was sitting upright, keeping you anchored where you straddled him with his resolute hold on your hip still, ensuring your lips never parted from his for longer than a breath.

Before his arms engulfed your waist his hands made quick work of removing the robe that covered your frame, discarding it to the floor with little care. His hands caressed over your torso like he truly cherished every inch of you and sought to ensure not a single patch of you went unattended to.

(He truly loved every inch of you - a fact you believed deep into your core. You'd only asked him once what his favorite part of your body was - he'd almost been offended that you'd think he could narrow a list of such considerable length.)

"Still, it may be good for me to exercise some selflessness tonight," he offered, a handsome and playful expression illuminating his features. His hands were now gently resting on either side of your neck, thumbs lightly rubbing back and forth - unable to stay fully idle for long. "You gave me the perfect day. Will you let me treat you to a perfect night in our bed?"

"Have you known me to say no to you often?"

"Only when I've needed to hear it."

No further talk was needed and the two of you continued to kiss tenderly, his hands returning to lavish your breasts again. Your own hands maintained a hold on the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair delicately - completely unwilling to have him pull away. Happy to oblige and always eager to swallow the quiet sounds of pleasure he could pull from you, especially now in the privacy of a bedroom where it had not always been a luxury you'd been provided, one of his hands continued to trail lower.

Until it reached as low as he could on your leg in this position, fingers brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh - it was obvious he was influencing the weave to crackle at his fingertips gently, the result a pleasant tingle dancing across your skin. Your legs squeezed tighter around him in anticipation and he chastised you with a light swat to your thigh, not to cause pain but to capture your focus again.

You responded with a light nip to his bottom lip which earned a cheeky smile from him, eyes staying on yours as his hand finally reached your core - where you were desperate for him most. Over your panties it was still obvious how wet you were in anticipation of him - your time with Gale had proven that things like that only spurred him onward more, the confirmation that you wanted him just as desperately clouding his mind of all logic.

"Have you been wet all day, my love?"

The tone of his voice melted you like wax, you could only nod and whimper as he pushed the fabric to the side, slowly running two of his skilled digits between your soaked folds. His lips were only centimeters from yours so every movement brought them together slightly, your moan cut off as he kissed you again, index finger circling your clit slowly. He opted to speak against your lips, unwilling to be too far from your sweet lips for long.

"I'd have indulged you long before now had I known this is what waited for me."

His fingers swiped back down to your entrance and the middle slipped into you slowly, a smile playing on his lips as he kissed you again. Though one finger meant every exit and reentry meant pinpointed strokes the stretch wasn't enough to satiate the pressure that was seated in your core, more of a stretch needed than what one finger provided. It only took a slight squirm of your hips for him to take the cue, slipping a second finger into you which you thanked him for with a moan.

He left your lips to kiss to your neck, reclaiming spots that had often been decorated with his mark in your time since returning home with him. His fingers set a leisurely pace pumping into you, stroking your velvet walls perfectly as his tongue lavished a spot on your neck that you knew would only add to the slick coating his hand.

His free hand came to one of your breasts to massage gently, fingers rolling your sensitive nipple and pinching to add to the melody sounding from your mouth. From where you were seated in his lap you could feel his cock hard and throbbing beneath you, adding to your desperation - as skilled as Gale's hands, fingers and mouth were it would never compare to joining together with him.

You rocked down against his waist which pulled a groan from him, fingers picking up pace as he nipped at your neck. "Patient, darling…"

His hand left your chest to grasp your hip instead, steadying the movements you both knew would drive him over an edge he was intent to tiptoe around still for a while yet. When you continued to try to squirm in his hold he removed from you completely, brow furrowed as he used a hand to push you onto your back. He kissed down your torso slowly, eyes staying fixated on yours as he went - communicating his instruction to stay still without a word.

"Gale please, I need you…"

You tried to tempt him into giving into your way for once by reaching upward and slipping your fingers into his hair, giving the messy locks a tug to try to encourage him upward. It was briefly annoying that you felt his lips curve against your hip - amused by your attempt, no doubt -

*(Later when your mind is clearer you'll reflect on this moment - as you so often reflected after intimacy with Gale - and you'd once again be thankful for his insistence on ensuring he went above and beyond for you in all senses.

It was impossible to forget that you'd become the most important thing to him.)

"You know I won't give you what you want until you've cum at least once for me, darling," he reminded, his voice feather light against your inner thigh now where he sucked a fresh mark into your thigh to match what the fading ones had once appeared as. Your fingers ran through his hair and tugged again, he only groaned deeply in response and lightly bit at the spot he'd just marked.

"Gale -"

He did love when you whined for him - it almost always nearly enough to make him break on the spot, the temptation to give into you near overwhelming.

"Ah ah ah," he whispered, the vibrations in his voice tickling your skin as his lips brushed a familiar trail up your thigh to your core. "No arguing, my love. I'm not asking anything unreasonable."

All that was left to do was melt as his tongue ran through your folds, an appreciative moan rumbling in his chest as he tasted you - as though it was the first time all over again. The argument was completely lost as he continued to cover every inch of your cunt with his tongue. He was exactly what he'd told you to be - patient - as his tongue ran back and forth between your oversensitive and swollen clit and your hole that was eager to clench around anything.

This was certainly one of his favorite ways to spend his time now - sometimes to busy his mind with anything other than tortured thoughts of the past he'd lose himself in devouring you. The fact that you always gushed on his tongue was a bonus, one he was more than happy to work for, sometimes refusing to remove his head until you'd finished multiple times.

Even he wasn't patient enough for that tonight, but he was enough to continue lavishing you with his skilled tongue, hands gripping your hips and angling you upward so he was able to fuck his tongue into you and lean back occasionally to gaze lovingly at your pretty, creamy cunt. With the amount of love and devotion he was putting into every movement, it wasn't long until your thighs were squeezing closer around his head, the subtle shake at his fingertips giving your impending release away before you managed to moan out the warning.

"I'm…I…"

"There you go," he leaned away to look up into your face, his lips and chin covered in your slick and his spit. One of his hands abandoned its hold on your hip to join his mouth, two fingers entering you again in a swift movement, the sound that accompanied the movement enough to build heat in your cheeks. "That's a good girl."

With his fingers now pumping into your hole again it left his mouth to focus on your clit, his tongue relentlessly swirling on the bundle of nerves as he pushed you toward release. Your vision was already whitening and your fingers gripped his hair tighter, a cry ripping from your chest as his other hand pressed down on your stomach.

That sensation snapped like a rubber band through you - while you were lost in ecstasy you hardly registered that your release was gushing from you, though Gale wasted no time in covering as much of your cunt with his mouth so he could drink your euphoric nectar.

As you were coming down he crawled back up you, pressing kisses along your torso as he whispered a word or sentence of praise with each one. You were pinned beneath him, one of his forearms resting next to your head as a leg moved to slide one of yours higher - though you were in a post-orgasm haze you registered you needed to wrap your leg around his waist.

His hand came to smooth your hair back, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to your nose - a tender action that didn't match the lewd way he rolled his hips into yours, his cock throbbing and leaking from what you could feel against your pussy. His other hand maintained a tight grip on your hip and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips now, whispering quietly against them.

"Are you ready for me, my love?"

The truth was, he could never enter you fast enough - or at least he wouldn't, his playful nature shining through one last time before he lost himself completely in intimacy. It showed now in the subtle shake to his voice, the slightly higher pitch that gave away how much he needed you.

"Please."

"I do so enjoy when you ask nicely."

He started sliding his cock into you slowly groaning the entire way, opting not to continue to kiss you so he could gaze into your face with complete adoration, finding just as much bliss in seeing your eyes roll back and flutter closed as a light smile played on your lips as he did in feeling your velvet walls around him again.

And this - this was as perfect as anything else that had ever truthfully been described as such. This is where both of you found some reason, some meaning - where both of you created your own galaxies. It started slow, Gale preferring to savor the first strokes inch by inch every time. His lips never left you, kissing you gently in any place he could reach on your face and neck and shoulders as he muttered quiet words of love and appreciation.

Poetry that would only be shared between the two of you.

When he was satisfied with the amount he'd cherished every inch of your walls welcoming him in again he re-angled your bodies so both of your legs were around his waist now, the new angle allowing him to fuck into you deeper. Now he was hitting a spot he knew would make you see stars, hoping that you'd thank him for remembering exactly how to reach it -

"Gale…feels s'good…"

He sounded his appreciation with a loud moan of his own, his pace increasing as the tension built in his core now. You felt impossibly tighter each time he re-entered, a fact that was driving him closer to release. Unable to voice it he pressed a sloppy, desperate kiss to your lips before leaning his sweaty forehead against yours, breaths falling out heavy against your lips.

No matter how close his release threatened to snap, he would never do so without hearing you tell him to do so. You allowed him a moment to dangle over the edge for a moment as you bit into your bottom lip, catching his attention and focus - focus on your swollen lips, and the sweaty sheen covering your face and slicking your hair…on the way your eyes threatened to spill tears at how blissfully good you felt.

"Come for me, Gale," the instruction already had him grasping you tighter, but when you continued with an offer that hadn't previously been on the table it was impossible for him to hold back much longer. "Fill me…"

He kissed you again - a little too hard for how swollen your lips already were from the amount of kissing already done but with a passion that was returned nonetheless. His thrusts became just as messy as his kisses had and he pumped his throbbing length into you hard and fast, hips pistoning into yours repeatedly.

Both of your sounds filled the room as his movements pushed you toward a second release of your own, walls clenching around him so tight he now couldn't bring himself to remove from you completely. Recognizing both of you needed a breath as his own head began to spin he buried into you to the hilt roughly one last time as his orgasm started, toppling you over into your own at the feeling of his thick seed coating your insides.

You were thankful he wasn't a particularly massive man when he practically collapsed against you, breaths coming out heavy against your neck as his mind found a new addiction in filling your womb. Normally he'd withdraw to get a soft and warm cloth to clean you but tonight it hardly seemed necessary - even if you fell asleep now it wouldn't be long before he was sheathing himself in you again.

He would care for you in other ways tonight, pulling away from you slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he positioned you both into something much more comfortable, facing one another on your sides so you could continue to enjoy the serenity illuminating one another's faces.

Between your bodies one of his hands met yours, your fingers lightly tracing lines on the back of his hand. He continued to enjoy the true peace of the moment before speaking again.

"Today was beyond words," he whispered lightly when he found his voice again. You could hear the love that each word was spoken with - what's more you could see it reflected in his eyes. "You give me everything I could have ever dreamed of and more."

You moved closer to curl up to him, burying your face in his neck as he waved a hand to ignite the fireplace, keeping one arm around you to hold you close as one of your legs slipped up over his waist. After he pulled the blanket over your bodies he turned his head to press a kiss to your forehead, finding your eyes were already closed and yet you still had a small smile on your lips. As he gazed at you for just a moment longer Tara jumped onto the foot of the bed, giving a long stretch before settling in for the night, her purrs mixing with the crackle of the fire.

Just when he thought you'd already fallen asleep you surprised him with another question.

"Let's do it again tomorrow?"

He kissed your forehead with a light smile on his lips as his arms tightened around you, happy to give this and more to you for as many days as you'd allow.

"And the day after that."

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

[lcriedlastnight]

Shy reader and Lando who absolutely loves taking pictures of her

yes yes yes! thanks, lovely!

tw: fem!reader, swears, a little rushed me thinks, lmk if you want me to add anything else.

w/c: 1.7k

it was like lando wanted to embarrass you or something. he knew how shy you were yet here he was, snapping away at you with his camera mumbling about how good this would look on his jpg account on instagram.

of course you are very quick to remind him that you would sooner set your shared kitchen on fire than stumble across a picture of you on his, very famous and very popular instagram account.

"c'mon baby. just one photoshoot. you're too pretty to not take pictures of." lando begs, the camera's wide lens sticking in your face as you cover it with your hands. lando seriously considers fighting you then gluing you to the bed to he could take pictures of you until his heart was content.

"no, lando. i know you'll end up posting them and i won't like how i look in them and it'll be this whole big thing." you complain from behind your hands.

lando understands where you are coming from he swears, it makes total sense. of course it does it had come from your brain. he just did not think he could ever wrap his head around the fact that he had the prettiest girl sitting right next to him and he was not allowed to immortalise you so he could always remember that day when you had both decided to stay at home and have a day for yourself. lando was one hundred percent one of those people who feared that his memory would just disappear one day, he was sure that was why he loved taking pictures all the time. the boy was desperate not to forget anything, especially the times he treasured the most.

that was why is was so difficult for him to keep his camera out of sight and- well out of your face really, any time you were together. the driver never wanted to forget what you looked like, the prettiest girl in the entire world to him.

"i won't i promise. please, you just look too pretty not to!" lando pleads for what feels like the hundredth time today. you roll your eyes from behind your hands, knowing he was laying it on thick just to get you to agree.

"i've just woken up, lando! no way!" you protest. lando ends up giving up that day, he knows the day where he gets you to agree is right around the corner he just has to play his cards right.

lando had taken you with him to australia for the up coming race at the weekend and because it was lando, he had forced you to go sight-seeing so he could get pictures for that beloved instagram account he barely even posts on now anyways.

you remind him that you don't want any pictures taken of you and he agrees without much pushing from you, which surprises you to say the least but you do not even bother to comment on it as you worried it would make him snap out of whatever mindset he was in that made him so agreeing with you.

you were walking ahead of your boyfriend as, unbeknown to you, he was snapping away. his pictures consisting of gorgeous skylines, arty graffiti on the walls along the streets you both walked along and finally, you. they were only pictures of your back but lando thought they were wonderful and had to contain the urge to tell you to spin around so he could get some of your sunkissed, pretty face.

as you were both laying in the hotel bed that night, lando scrolled through the pictures he had taken on his camera that day and spoke your name softly to grab your attention when the pictures of you had popped up.

"i know you don't like it when i take your picture but i think this looks great." lando says, a little nervous that he had just started a fight with you but your eyes looked calm as they scanned over the computer screen that showed your silhouette as you walked through the bustling streets of melbourne. the city had quickly raced through the places to take the number two spot for your favourite cities that you gone visited with lando.

you are quiet for a minute or two (which seems like an eternity for your boyfriend) before you approve.

"yeah, i guess you made me look quite good here, lan." you compliment the picture. the praise settling in his stomach as it was very high coming from you.

"thanks honey but that's all you. didn't even have to get you to pose or anything. i think despite what you say and think, you're a natural in front of my camera." lando instead compliments you as his arm swings over your shoulder bringing you close into his side with a cheesy smile that makes those butterflies in your stomach flutter around like crazy.

you disagree and after lando moves his electronics out of the way and you two have play fought for way too long, you both settle down in the massive hotel bed. you tangle yourself in to lando's side and he sneakily grabs his phone to snap a picture before brain storming ways to get you to agree to him taking at least one picture and posting it on his well loved instagram account.

he had tried saying "you could revive the account, love. i've hardly posted this year because i'm waiting on my model of a girlfriend to agree to a one picture photo shoot." but that had just resulted in the driver getting hit in the face with the new throw pillows you had bought to decorate his bed with.

he can never really convince you to agree to getting your picture taken to he had to result in sneakily taken phone pictures and blurry, hand over the face, back of the head camera pictures. lando guess that it was batter than nothing at this point. you were pretty sure that if you let him he would cover the entire room with pictures of you and turn it into a shrine.

your birthday came along but with what you had told your sweet boyfriend it had felt like his own.

"you can post any pictures you have of me." you had granted your permission so he got to work. he knew he could only pick ten pictures for his actual instagram post and he certainly knew he could not spam the shit out of his story with all the pictures of you that he wanted to, no matter how much he wanted to. so he raked through the minute amount of pictures he had to find the ones he hoped you would love.

the first was the one on his lockscreen, a picture from miami, his first win. you were in lando's favourite dress of yours, although you could barely see it because the picture, taken by oscar, was of lando laying directly on top of you on the floor, your arms wrapped around his torso while his head was hiding in the crook of your neck. lando still donned those papaya fireproofs around his waist but all he remebers is that in that moment he had to get his hands on you.

the second is that silhouette picture from melbourne. it is easily one of lando's favourites just because he knew it was probably one of, if not the first, picture he had taken of you that you actually liked.

the third was a mirror picture of you both in your bedroom mirror, the phone covering your face as lando drapes himself over you. he liked this picture because your outfit was pretty but he was the only one who got to see how pretty your face was that night and how well your rosy cheeks went with the pink skirt.

the forth was a facetime screenshot. it must have been from the start of the season. you had a peel off sheet mask on your face and your hair was tied back into a bun as you had a hair mask in. your hands were mid air as you explained the plot to the book you were reading. lando had only screenshotted because of how cute he thought you looked but you and all of lando's fans had noticed lando's face in the corner, eyes crinkled with the power of the smile gracing his lips. the boy looked exactly like what he was, smitten.

the fifth was a picture of you in the paddock from getty images, the water mark still being present on the picture. the bright papaya headphones sitting on your head as you watch along with a worried expression. neither you or lando knew which race it was, lando just loved the picture.

the sixth, seventh and eighth were tied in together. the sixth had shown you on the floor, trying to assemble tony starks tower out of lego with a happy smile on your face. the seventh was a video of you from the next room. all you could hear was your shouting and cursing about how stupid lego was and how this was all lando's fault for letting you buy the stupid thing in the first place. the video then showed the ceiling moving as lando appeared in the room you were and and you beg him to come help you. the eighth is a picture of you standing next to the finished product in different clothes with shorter hair.

the ninth was a baby picture that lando adored of you and your brother. you were playing with his buzzlightyear and your brother stood to the side, crying his heart out. "menace from the start." lando had joked.

the tenth was the picture he had taken of you wrapped up in his arms the night of the melbourne picture. the memory behind it meant more than anything to the boy. the driver would never admit it but when he was sleeping alone in hotel beds, with you sometimes on the other side of the world, he would stare at the picture and pretend he was wrapped up in the duvet with you and everything was right in the world.

the caption for his post was something sweet and simple but you were overwhelmed with love for your boyfriend you did not even bother to read it.

"happy birthday, honey. i love you more and more every day." lando and whispered to you as you lay in each others arms that night.

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 1

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The first time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — on set, with lots of paint involved.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.1k

Tag List: let me know if you want to join! :)​

Author’s Note: This is part 1 of what I hope will be a six-part series, but it can be read as a stand-alone too. I am so obsessed with Colt right now that I can't even see straight, so just take this and do whatever you want with it!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The first time Colt Seavers almost kisses you, you’re not sure it actually happened.

You’ve been on set for about two months now, and your job as set decorator for the biggest action thriller of the decade has ended up being way more challenging than you expected. Every day, it’s a new demand from the director — more realistic graffiti, more subtle light fixtures, more beat-up furniture. It’s going to look amazing, but you’re exhausted just thinking about another day of smearing grime on the set walls by hand.

The one bright spot of every day is Colt Seavers. He’s the best stuntman in Hollywood, so naturally he’s been recruited to perform stunts for almost every scene in the movie. Watching him get thrown against walls, riddled with bullets, and dropped from dizzying heights is heart-pounding for you, but nothing gets your heart pounding as hard as when he leans a little too close to you, so close you can see the dusty brown of his eyelashes against his soot-stained skin.

“Nice sign,” Colt quips, dropping onto the picnic table seat next to you. You’re hand-painting a bright-red Do Not Disturb sign for the next scene, and you barely manage to keep from smearing the paint when you whirl to face him. “Is it for your trailer door?”

You give him a mock glare, laughter slipping through the edges. “Very funny. It just so happens that you’ll be kicking this sign in half in tomorrow’s scene, so show a little respect.”

Colt’s eyes sparkle at your words, all his attention focused on you. He leans forward on one elbow, the other reaching up to ruffle the dust out of his hair. “Wow, a handmade prop just for me to kick in half?” He grins, inclining his head in a mock bow. “I’m honored.”

You can’t hide your return grin, or the blush rising under your skin at his close proximity. Colt always has this effect on you — never pushing the limits to make you uncomfortable, just taking up space with you in a way that steals your breath.

“What’s this?” you ask, using your free hand to tug on the shoulder of his fireproof vest. One side is seriously singed, close enough to his skin to set you to worrying.

Colt shrugs, flashing you a crooked smile that makes his left eye crinkle. “Little pyrotechnics mishap,” he informs you casually, brushing imaginary dust off his arm and onto you. You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Ray got a little overexcited with the stun grenades.”

“What?” You can’t keep the concern from slipping into your voice, even though you try to disguise it behind a joking tone. “You’re working with real stun grenades now?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, as if it should be obvious. “It’s only a stunt if it’s real, you know?”

You narrow your eyes, cocking your head to one side. “I think that’s the opposite of how it works, actually.”

Colt just laughs at that, the golden rays of the setting sun turning his tanned skin golden. His smile is warm and directed entirely at you, heating up the blush in your cheeks again. You turn your eyes back to your painting to keep from completely giving yourself away.

These past few months have been both paradise and torture for you. You thought you could hide your crush easily enough — it’s not like you haven’t done that before. But with Colt, it’s different. He sees through your stoic facades and teases out your laughter, searches for ways to make you smile even on your bad days. Whether it’s pulling a goofy face at you from his rig or remembering that you like sour cream in your soup, Colt has found some new way to surprise you every day that you’ve known him.

The thing is, you’re not sure if he’s actually interested in you or just being flirtatious. Misinterpreting the signals would be awkward and painful for you at this point, so you’ve decided that he’s just going to have to make the first move. You’re too old to play middle-school games with him.

Even if he does give you middle-school butterflies all over again.

You don’t realize that you’ve been lost in your thoughts until you notice that Colt has imperceptibly moved closer to your side, peering over your shoulder as you put the finishing touches on the purposely-sloppy sign.

“So I kick the sign in half tomorrow,” he says softly, his husky voice in your ear sending goosebumps over your skin. “What happens if we have to do another take?”

You risk a glance over your shoulder at him, letting a coy smile slip. “Do you really think this is the only one I’ve done?”

Colt just lifts his eyebrows at you and smiles, returning his eyes to the sign in your hands. Colt has a way of burning you up just with his gaze, and you can’t help breathing an inner sigh of relief every time he focuses his attention elsewhere. Concentrating on anything when he’s looking at you is impossible.

“You know, I could definitely give you some pointers on set design sometime,” he mutters, as if he’s genuinely musing on the thought. You know he’s warming up for a joke, so you let him continue, hiding your smile while he watches over your shoulder. “I have tons of experience in your department.”

“Oh, really?” You grab your black paint and begin the focused task of sprinkling the sign with the darker color for a realistic touch. Realism is the key to making memorable set designs, and you’ve mastered the technique.

“Mm-hmm.” You feel the murmur reverberate in his throat when he leans forward, resting his chin on your shoulder while you lightly dab your paintbrush in your paint bottle. Your heart skips at least three beats when you feel his hair tickling the side of your neck, his eyes still locked on the sign as if he’s studying it. Does he really not know what he’s doing to you, or is he doing it on purpose?

You try to keep your hands steady while you feel his chest rise and fall against your shoulder. Struggling to hide the tremor in your voice, you tease, “What could I improve about this piece, then? I can always use an expert opinion.”

He tilts his head to the side, his chin still resting on your shoulder. You can feel the bristly stubble on his cheeks now. It’s an oddly comforting sensation, one that forces every bit of your self-control to the brink in order to keep yourself from moving your face to the side and nuzzling your cheek against his. You feel his face move slightly as his mouth turns up into a smile.

“If you really want some advice…” he begins, lifting one hand up to trace the edge of your sign.

“Careful,” you warn him, “that’s wet paint.”

Colt doesn’t even get close to smudging your paint, but that doesn’t stop you from lifting your free hand to rest on his wrist, holding it in place while you set your paint bottle down. Colt stills at your touch, and your heart accelerates again at the gentle way his fingertips rest on the edge of your sign.

He lets the moment hang in the air between you for a moment, then comments, “I was just going to suggest a nice artist’s signature. See this big gap right here between Not and Disturb? Your name should go there in big red letters.” You’re already swatting his hand away playfully as his serious tone devolves into snickers. “Just like Bob Ross does on TV.”

“You are so ridiculous,” you laugh, glad to feel the tension slipping out of the atmosphere. Colt lifts his chin off your shoulder now, his hair brushing your earlobe as he does.

“No, it would look perfect,” he insists, his eyes sparkling as his smirk widens. “And then I can aim right for your name when I kick it in half tomorrow.”

He laughs out loud when you slam the sign down on the picnic table surface in mock irritation, your grin making your amusement at his joke obvious. The slam sends a few drops of the black paint from your brush flying up, spattering your jawline.

You reach for a dry rag nearby, still grinning as you prepare to respond, but Colt stops you with a hand on your arm. “Allow me,” he says seriously, placing your hand back into your lap and raising his other hand to the side of your face. You freeze in place, unprepared for the wave of emotion that washes over you when Colt touches the side of your jaw softly.

His eyes are still sparkling with humor, and you know he’s about to do something to make you laugh, but you can’t help the feeling that sweeps through your heart when you’re face to face with him, one of his hands holding yours on your lap and the other just beginning to cradle your face. It feels so gentle, so intimate, so right, and your heart aches as you realize that there is no going back from the feelings you’re developing for Colt Seavers.

He hesitates for a split second, his hand hoving on your jaw for practically no time at all, but it feels like a lifetime to you. You watch his dark blue eyes as they dart down to look at your lips, flitting back up just as quickly to latch onto your eyes with a stare that could melt diamonds.

Then the corner of his mouth turns up again into his usual smirk, and he strokes his thumb across your jaw to smear the black paint up the side of your face.

“Now,” he offers, “don’t you think you look more realistic?”

He dissolves into laughter as you reach up and feel the streaks of black now smudged across your face. You immediately reach past him to dip your fingers in your bottle of red paint, giving him a mischievous grin as you slather three fingers’ worth of paint across his nose and cheeks. The combination of his semi-shocked expression and the ridiculousness of his painted face pushes you over the edge into another fit of laughter.

“You’re the one who will be on camera,” you retort, smiling wider than you can remember doing in a long time. “Shouldn’t you be the one who’s realistic?”

“Touché,” he acknowledges playfully, rubbing his face and only succeeded in smearing the red paint further across his face. “Though I doubt Tom Ryder is going to accept any glimpses of my face on camera, so I won’t even have to wash this off.”

You impulsively reach up and drag your fingertip through the splotch of paint on his cheek, resisting the urge to draw a heart and settling on a simple smiley face instead. His own smile resurfaces at that, eyes twinkling as they stay locked on yours.

“If you keep it until tomorrow, you’ll match my sign,” you muse, trying to lighten the atmosphere, which has suddenly grown a bit more intense now that Colt’s gaze is focused on you again.

He doesn’t look away, doesn’t play it off, doesn’t do anything that you expect from him. His breathing seems to slow down, while yours feels like it takes off in a flurry of movement. Colt doesn’t make a move to touch you, but you can feel the distance between the two of you closing infinitesimally.

You’ve never noticed the flecks of silver-gray in his eyes, or the almost-invisible smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, or the ragged cut of his hair right beside his ears. Even the brilliant red streak only serves to bring out the golden tones of his skin, the swirls of blonde in his hair. Every detail of his face seems vivid, as if you’re seeing him for the first time.

His eyes seem to drink you in, too, traveling over every inch of your face before stopping on your lips again. This time, though, he doesn’t flick his eyes back up. Words escape you, as do any coherent thoughts. This is it. He’s actually going to kiss me. This is real.

“Seavers, on set, ASAP.”

The squawk of his walkie-talkie shatters the intense moment, and both of you release a breath that felt like it had been held for an hour. Colt swallows, smoothes his hand over his beard, turns to slip the walkie back into his pocket. You turn back to your painted sign quickly, trying to regain some composure.

Uncharacteristically, Colt doesn’t speak as he stands and turns to walk back to the filming set. He does, however, glance back at you the moment you lift your eyes to watch him walk away. Your heart is still hammering, recovering from his closeness to you.

With a wordless smile, he reaches up, swipes a bit of red paint off his face, and presses it onto the tip of your nose in the shape of his fingerprint. Then he walks away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Part 2

[ddawnee]

hobie’s seen some of miles’ graffiti work and took interest in it himself, so one day he asks miles if he could spray paint a spider on one of his plain tees to give it pizazz.

usually, miles isn’t really worried about his graffiti art being perfect; but this time it’s different. hobie’s cool as hell, what if he doesn’t like the finished product? that’d destroy his ego.

so he’s been circling around the t-shirt that laid on the floor, shaking a can of black spray paint for about ten minutes now. it was simple, really; all he needed to do was a circle and then the spider on the inside, but he couldn’t bring himself to start just yet, because what if the circle comes out lopsided, or he doesn’t make the spider big enough to fit four legs on each side?

it didn’t really help that hobie leaned against the wall in front of miles, observing miles circle around like a nervous mess.

“miles.. you good?”

“huh?”

“you’ve been doing..” unsure of what to call it, hobie motions with his hand, “this, for the past ten minutes. do you like.. need some inspo?”

“oh no, it’s not that, it’s just..” he isn’t sure how to cover it up, so he just is honest, “i don’t wanna mess it up, it’s gotta look nice.”

“it’s fine, no big deal if it’s messy.”

“you sure?” miles stops his pacing, looking down at the blue tee. it was modified, the collar and bottom hem messily torn off to fit hobie’s style more, and now miles felt a bit stupid for overthinking his craft; hobie was all about messy!

“yeah, the shirt don’t got any sentimental value for me yet, so i’m not gonna get mad if you absolutely fuck up the spider.” hobie shrugs.

miles raises a brow. “yet?” he’s really curious about what that means, and even finds himself hoping it means what he thinks it does.

he totally isn’t sure why though, of course.

“yeah, right now this shirt is just like, basic.” hobie starts, and miles doesn’t realize it but his voice gets a bit softer. “it doesn’t really have a meaning, but once you give it your touch it gets its value, because it’s your craft that you’re giving to me, y’know?”

there’s a lot more that hobie wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the courage to do it. he realizes he kind of went off on a tangent, and possibly annoyed miles, if it weren’t for the wide eyed look on the boy’s face. “sorry, that was a bit too much.” he grimaces.

“oh, oh no, it’s fine!” miles reassures the other, a smile on his face. “i appreciate your appreciation a lot.”

he shakes the can of spray paint, a hint of determination in his eyes as he looks at the tee once more.

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x afab!reader. you're holed up at home with a broken leg and blitzø has surprised you by coming by to keep you company. you feel depressed and completely bored stuck in the apartment, so he decides to take your mind off it. for totally noble, selfless reasons, of course. featuring: oral sex (female receiving), masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, and horse drawings of questionable skill. 2.3k. anon request. I hope you're feeling better!

Fucking gravity.

You were a complete badass, both in Hell and on Earth – you’d spent a good long while now building up that particular reputation through your work with I.M.P, and no one was ever going to argue with that. At least, no one smart.

So, if someone could explain to you just how in the ever-loving fuck you’d managed to trip down a flight of stairs and break your goddamned fibula, that would be great. Because right now, you feel like an idiot. A hobbled, immobile idiot.

The cast wrapped snugly around your leg is bulky and irritates your skin, and Blitzø glances up from his place on the floor when you groan, an eyebrow raised. You’re sitting on your couch while a movie you’re only half paying attention to plays in front of you, your injured foot propped up on the coffee table, a pillow tucked under your heel. The other imp is sitting cross-legged between the couch and coffee table in front of you, a marker in hand. He has been happily doodling away at your cast for a while now, his forked tongue poking out as he concentrates on his latest addition to the plaster.

His tongue slips back between his lips as he registers the discomfort in your expression. “You good?”

You sigh. “My leg itches.”

“Which one?”

You give him a pointed look. “Take a wild guess.”

He snorts a laugh, abandoning whatever he’s scribbling – probably his latest (and as always, greatest) horse design – and tosses the marker on the table beside him. The plaster is already covered with his drawings; scribbles of horses all labelled with names like Bumblebee and Octagon, his name in bubble letters and badly designed graffiti, Loona giving everybody the finger. There was even one that looked like the two of you side by side, the lines jerky over the uneven expanse of the cast.

“Where?”

You lean forward long enough to tap your finger over a drawing of a horse that was christened ‘Crayon’, a couple of inches below the top of the cast. You exhale softly in relief as he slips the spade of his tail down into your cast and rubs it over your itch, letting your head fall back against the back of the couch.

“Oh, that’s godly…”

“’Bout fuckin’ time someone else said that about me.”

You chuckle, smirking at the ceiling. “Idiot.”

“Oh, c’mon.” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “You weren’t exactly fuckin’ shy about callin’ me a ‘god’ the other night…”

“Is that what I was doing?” you reply, even as you feel your cheeks warm. “Maybe I was praying for you to stop.”

“Yeah? And the shakin’ thighs and beggin’ for more?”

“…I’m an incredible actress.”

Blitzø scoffs and leans his arm on the sofa beside you, resting his temple against his hand. He gives you an appraising look as he withdraws his tail, letting the tip of it skim over your knee and over the top of your thigh as he does. You raise a brow at his expression.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he shrugs, a devious grin curling his lips. “’s jus’ kinda fun seein’ you all helpless like this.”

“You think so?” you say, faux-brightly before letting the fake smile drop and flipping him off. He snickers. You were actually grateful, if not still surprised, that he was here. He turned up a few hours ago and let himself into the apartment – despite him not actually having a key – apparently fine with skipping work in order to keep you company and alleviate some of the boredom. He’d brought shakes and greasy diner food with him, and had been doodling away on your cast for the last hour, as content and as boyish as you’d ever seen him. It was endearing, really, if not still completely weird.

“Just give me my meds, would you?”

“What, you can’t reach ‘em?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you scowl at him. Blitzø grins, but straightens so he can collect your painkillers and your milkshake from the table. You swallow the pills down with the last dregs of the shake, sucking down the mix of chalky pills and chocolate foam noisily.

Blitzø takes the cup from you and sets back on the table, and you wince as he leans his elbows on your leg, his chin resting in his hands mockingly.

“Do you mind?”

“Not really.” he shrugs, his tail switching back and forth behind him in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Asshole.”

“You love it.” You roll your eyes despite your smile, and his widens. He removes one hand from under his chin, tip-toeing two of his fingers teasingly up along your cast and past it, from your ankle to the bare skin of your knee and higher as he speaks. “Y’know what I really love about you bein’ all busted up like this?”

“Vivid imagery?”

Blitzø gives you a sharp, wicked grin, ducking under your leg to plant himself between your thighs. He takes hold of your knees, pressing them wider, leaning in closer to you tauntingly. “You can’t go anywhere.”

A shiver rolls up your spine at the sudden huskiness to his voice, and you flush. Still, you try to push yourself further back onto the couch, away from him. “Blitz, I’m all sweaty and—”

“Not yet, baby, but you’re about to be,” he shoots back without hesitation, his claws squeezing the flesh of your thighs. “C’mon, bitch. You know I can make you feel so good…”

Your breath catches, a soft whimper slipping out of you before you can stop it. His smirk twitches wider, his tail switching back and forth predatorily behind him. He’s watching you with heavily-lidded eyes, and his expression burns into you, excites you in a way that makes you want to squeeze your thighs together to quench it. But his claws are too tight on your legs, and you can’t do it. He feels your muscles tense though, and he growls, low and hungry under his breath.

Blitzø slides his hands further up your thighs slowly, delighting in the way your breathing grows unsteady in response. The sleep shorts you’re wearing are threadbare cotton, and it takes so little once he hooks a claw into the leg of one for the threads start to tear.

“Say you want it, slut,” he urges roughly, eyes still burning into yours. “Say you want me.”

You bite your lip and nod, and that’s all Blitzø needs before he’s leaning up to catch your lips with his in a rough, hungry kiss. His tongue meets yours, his breath hot and sharp as it mingles with yours, and you sigh into the kiss, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. You can feel his smirk still playing on his features, feel his hands take hold of the waistband of your shorts and underwear. There’s the sharp sound of fabric tearing and then his hand is cupping your cunt.

You whimper into his mouth as he slides a finger up between your labia and finds you clit. He kisses you again, his fangs catching your bottom lip before he pulls back. Blitzø waggles his eyebrows at you cockily before he lowers himself back onto his knees between your thighs.

“Look at you, all wet already,” he growls before his mouth is on your clit and you moan, bucking up as best you can without moving your injured leg. Blitzø hums a laugh into your cunt, the vibrations a heady teasing against your clit, and he wraps an arm around your thigh. He hooks your injured leg up over his shoulder, and you grab blindly at the back of the couch with one hand as he smooths his claws up the outside of your thigh. He tugs you further towards the edge of the couch, opening you up further to his tongue. “Fuck, always taste so fuckin’ good…”

He doesn’t know subtlety, and he doesn’t work you up slowly to the sensation of his tongue against your clit. No, Blitzø practically attacks your cunt with his mouth, a groan rolling through him and into your pussy in a way that makes your eyes roll back. When he slips finger up into you, you moan aloud, wrapping a hand around his horn and bracing the other on the couch so you can grind against his tongue.

“Shit, Blitz, fuck…” you can feel yourself already soaking, dripping onto the cushion beneath you whenever he pulls away to tease you with biting kisses to your thighs and hips. He sucks a possessive mark into your hipbone, lathing his tongue over the same spot just as he pushes another finger up into you. “Holy fuck!”

He snickers, flicking his forked tongue tauntingly over your clit again, eyes on your face. “Careful, whore, you’re gettin’ close to callin’ me a ‘god’ again.”

“I’m…” you pant, brow creasing as you screw your eyes shut as though it can help you focus on your words instead of the way he curves his fingers inside you. “…rehearsing. Big role coming up.”

You jerk as he sinks his teeth into your thigh. “Only thing fuckin’ cummin’ here is you.”

“Satan, that’s lame, Blit—” you break off with a loud, keening moan as Blitzø sucks your clit into his mouth and tortures it with his tongue, your eyes rolling back and your hand tightening so much on the couch cushion beneath you that you hear the threads pop. The heat inside you expands, tingling through your limbs and making your back arch, and Blitzø reaches up to grope at your chest, palming your breast through your t-shirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, fuuuuuck…”

That heat clenches inside you and releases and you cum, hips lifting off the couch, your cast balanced against his back. Blitzø moans into your cunt as you soak his face, lapping at your clit relentlessly. He slows only enough to let you catch your breath, keeping you burning on that breathless precipice, too stimulated to come back down, but not enough to keep the orgasm rolling through you.

He releases your breast and you hear his zipper lower. Blitzø groans against you as he wraps a fist around the base of his cock, stroking himself with the same pace he finger-fucks you with. He’s muttering the filthiest sweet nothings into your pussy, each touch of his tongue against your clit sending sparks through you that make your body jerk.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, a thin trail of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. “Blitz… please…”

“Fuck, that’s it, bitch,” he moans, withdrawing his fingers from your pussy to roll over your clit, his fist quickening around his erection. “Fuckin’ beg me for it, c’mon…”

“Please, baby…” you whine obediently, too far gone to care about how he’ll lord it over you as soon as you’re done. He pushes his tongue into your quivering cunt, eager, hungry for every part of you he can taste. You’re boneless against the couch except for the disjointed jerks of your hips into his face, your body chasing another release even as it finds it too overwhelming to continue. “Please, Blitz… fucking, God, please…”

He presses his fingers down on your clit just as he quickens them further and you cum again, eyes rolling back and your vision going white. Blitzø groans loudly, leaning back on his heels to watch your cunt throb and pulse, his fingers still moving over it ruthlessly. His eyes flicker up from your pussy to your face and he cums too, shouting a string of curses you don’t really understand through the endorphin-fueled haze leaking through your brain.

“Shiiiit…” he lets his head fall against your thigh, and you giggle breathlessly, punch-drunk. His shoulders shudder as he catches his breath, then his head snaps back up as though he were completely unaffected.

He rests his chin on your thigh, raising an eyebrow at you with a small smirk. “Feel better?”

You run a hand through your hair, and Blitzø watches the movement lift your breasts under your shirt. “About being stuck on the couch, or do you think your tongue somehow heals broken bones?”

“Bitch, my tongue is a fuckin’ miracle and you know it,” he shoots back, grinning against your leg as you laugh.

“I do feel more relaxed…” you admit.

“Fuck yeah, you do.”

“…But now the couch is all wet.”

His grin widens lasciviously. “Fuck yeah, it is.”

“Blitz.”

He rolls his eyes, unhooking your injured leg from his shoulder and setting your foot back on the coffee table with surprising care. He stands, making a show of tucking himself back into his jeans, winking at you when he doesn’t do them back up. “Alright, alright. Unclench that ass, sugartits, I’m on it.”

You raise a brow. “You are?”

“Yup.” he says, clapping his hands together before grabbing your crutches from where they’re propped against the coffee table. “You’re gonna take a bath, I’m gonna scrub your cum outta the couch—’

“Ew, Blitz!”

“—and then,” he continues pointedly. “You’re gonna go get all comfy in bed.”

You feel a smile twitch at the edge of your lips, surprised by your thoughtfulness. “Really?”

“Yup.” he says, popping the ‘p’. “And then we’re gonna see just how well you suck dick lyin’ down.”

You snort a laugh, shaking your head. “There it is!”

He grins widely, holding a hand out to help you up off the couch. “Fuckin’ right. Now get your ass up before I decide to make your crippled ass run this fuckin’ bath bullshit by yourself.”

[hanmaitani]

Only Us

PAIRING - Togame Jou x Reader WC - 7.5K GENRE - smut CW - implied unprotected sex, implied creampie, super possessive, um im insane and this is indulgent SYNOPSIS - togame jou had no business being acquainted with you but it was just in good fun. a game he liked to play, prying for your attention. your connection to one of bofurin's members, your best fiend, made it that much more thrilling for him.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

You were much too close to the edge of Bofurin’s territory, skirting along the line between it and another, a place your best friend had forbidden you from going. You really sucked at listening to directions. You tugged at the collar of your borrowed jacket, trying to get it to cover you more when a sudden cold wind blew through the tunnel as you arrived at it.

It’s dim in the tunnel, the underpass beneath the railroad tracks is decorated in shadows and graffiti. It’s much different than the walls just beyond it, in Bofurin territory. Emerald eyes lurk from those shadows, a dead-eyed gaze that’s shadowed further by orange sunglasses, scanning the entrance as he leans against the wall. Looking for you.

Togame Jou had no business being acquainted with you but it was just in good fun. A game he liked to play, prying for your attention. Your connection to one of Bofurin’s members, your best friend, made it that much more thrilling and dangerous for him. It was intoxicating.

You catch sight of him only a second after he does you, the orange Shishitoren jacket hanging over his broad shoulders giving him away. He’s already pushing off the wall, sauntering forward and towards you, steps that echo against the concrete breaking the otherwise silent area.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Bofurin,” he drawls in a deep voice and it seems to rumble in your ears. There’s amusement in his tone at his own nickname for you, his eyes lingering on the green that curls around your shoulders. “You miss me?”

You scoff lightly at him but take a step into the tunnel anyways, officially out of Bofurin territory. “Now why would I ever miss the likes of you, Togame?” You try to match his amusement with your own indifference, but your voice seems to uptick slightly on the form of your final pronoun, your wandering eyes giving away your nervousness. You shouldn’t be out of Bofurin territory, and yet you’re still walking further into Shishitoren territory. Into Jou’s territory.

Jou ignores your blatant show of nerves, his eyes instead twinkling with mischief at how you try to play his game. “Because my charm and good looks are so hard for you to resist, of course,” his smirk widens as you are finally enveloped in the shadows with him. It’s a lazy sort of grace that he exhibits as he moves closer, aiming to narrow the gap between you. You don’t assist him anymore.

“I can see right through your little act, y’know,” he drawled slowly, the low rumble sending shivers down your spine as if his fingers brushed there.

“There’s no act.”

Jou only ignores you. “You’re trying to pretend you don’t care, you almost do a good job.” He chuckles and it’s a low thing that should set off your instincts to run, but it only roots you in your place. “I can see the way you look at me.”

“I don’t look at you at all, actually.” You’re lying through your teeth and you both know it. If you truly didn’t look at him then you wouldn’t be here now. You wouldn’t be watching him walk too slowly towards you right then.

“Oh?” Jou’s smirk only seems to widen more. “Is that so?” He knew it was a lie just as much as you did, but he wanted to play along. He wanted to see how far he could push those boundaries you’d put up before you chose to tear them down for him.

His eyes trail at a tantalizing pace over the curve of your body, finding a new place to focus on with every step he takes closer to you. “You are a terrible liar, y’know.” His amusement drips from his tongue as his eyes land back on your face, where you’re already burning from being under his gaze. “I can see it in those eyes,” you blink a few times as if that will rid you of the desire in them, “the way your body tunes into my voice,” as if on cue, another wave of goosebumps raise along your legs. “You can’t hide it from me.”

“I could if I wanted to.” You counter, trying to sound confident as your body basks in the heat of his gaze.

Jou is only one step away now, his proximity sending a rush of adrenaline through both of your bodies. “Is it a challenge?” His deep voice dips down to a whisper, shared only in the space between you and him. “I like my women with a little fire.” He teases as he closes the remaining distance, stopping a mere inches away and forcing you to tip your head back to see him.

His height makes him feel like he’s towering over you, broad body radiating control and intoxicating confidence. From this distance, you can see his eyes behind his sunglasses, peering over your body, inspecting you. “Should we test how well you can hide your desires?”

You hold yourself steady against his amusement. “A test?” You tease back at him. “If I wanted to be in school then I’d be there, Togame, not here.”

Jou chuckled at that, a low and rumbling sound just for you that sent a delicious feeling down your spine. “Feisty as always.” His hand reached out, slow enough that you could have swatted it away, if you wanted to. Instead, you let his calloused fingers slide beneath your chin, lifting it to fully parallel your faces. “Well you are here. So tell me,” his whisper has his warm breath mingling with your own, fanning over both your faces, “what is it you’re truly craving right now?”

You hum to give him the impression that you’re thinking of an answer. You’re trying to not smile but he can see the form of it playing on the corners of your lips in how they twitch. You’re intent on testing his boundaries for the day, to see how far he’ll let you take the teasing. “Food?”

Jou can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. He lifts his glasses to the top of his head, exposing to you the amusement in his green eyes as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Food?” He repeats your answer and you nod, telling him you were serious. He knows you’re not. “Interesting,” his lips quirk back into a smirk, “I was thinking of something…” you catch his eyes on your lips before they start to lazily drag back up, “a little bit sweeter.”

It’s your eyes that stray now, flicking down to his lips as his tongue wets his bottom lip. His movements are effortless as his lips move to hover right over yours. “Care to change your answer?” The warmth of his breath is intoxicating against your lips and you can’t seem to drag your eyes away from how his lips form the words.

You try not to let him see the blush in your cheeks as you answer him. “What were you thinking of?” Your breath is breathier than you intended it to be and you can feel your air bounce of his lips and back onto yours as you speak.

Jou leans in more, just slightly, so that if he were to purse his lips they would touch yours. He doesn’t but you swear that you can feel them as they move. “You,” the new distance forces you to look back up at his eyes, unable to watch his lips anymore, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice is soft, husky as it fills the space around you both.

His hand left your chin and moved to the small of your back, nestling between your shirt and your jacket to pull your body closer until it fully pressed against his. His warmth engulfed your body and it was like all the tension between you intensified.

“Admit it,” he pried, “you feel what I feel, don’t you?”

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his body flush against yours. Electricity flooded your senses as you stared up at him. “He’d kill me if I ever admitted that.” You didn’t have to clarify who ‘he’ was. Jou knew which Bofurin boy your best friend was. “Would kill you too, for that matter.”

Your information only seems to make Jou’s eyes gleam more, his smirk widening. “It’s a good thing he’s not here then,” his fingers toy with your jacket, “huh?” His hand on your back drifted lower, tracing a slow path down to your backside. “We’ll just have to keep this our little secret.” There’s a danger lurking in his words, one that you know you’ve already stepped into once you stepped into the shadows of Shishitoren territory. “Unless you’d like to risk letting him know how… captivated you are.”

“I’m not that captivated.” You try to stand your ground against him, yet even as you say it, your eyes won’t leave how his lips form his taunts, you can’t look away from him.

“Care to prove it?” It was his turn to challenge you, a seductive smirk drawing you in more. “I dare you,” he coaxes, hand sliding to graze over the curve of your ass, “to prove it.”

“I can prove it,” you don’t think before the whisper leaves you, “that I’m not affected by you.” But your eyes are half-closed, and your words don’t have the conviction you wish that they did. “Name the game and I’ll play it.”

Jou’s smirk widened into a full grin at your response. “Simple,” his voice is a soft, breathless thing as he burns with desire, “we’ll see who kisses who first. Whoever initiates, loses. You in?”

You smiled then, letting your own competitiveness take over. You pulled back just enough to watch your hands place themselves on his chest, fingers brushing along the lines of the fabric there. You drew your eyes back up to his, making sure to bat your eyelashes with a sly smile. “Only if you’re ready to lose.”

The way your fingers caressed his chest only fueled Jou’s need for you. He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Lose?” He chuckled softly, leaning into your touch. “It’s on.” He reclosed the distance that you’d made so you could breathe each other’s air again. Air thick with tension.

“So, what’s your first move?” You can’t take the heavy silence of just staring into his eyes, but when you mumble the words, you can barely keep your lips from brushing. You tilted your head, eyes trying to flick between his eyes and lips. “Since you’ll be the first one to make it, that is.”

His smirk only widens at your challenge, as he watches your eyes flicker. His movements are slow, deliberate as he leans just ever-so closer. His nose touches yours as he speaks. “You always talk such a big game sweetheart, but can you handle the heat?”

Your hands move over his chest, sliding up and over his shoulders, connecting together behind his neck. He nearly growls as he feels your fingers twitch there, moving to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m handling the heat just fine,” you breathe back, brushing your nose against his. “I haven’t broken and kissed you quite yet have I?” You let out an amused huff of air, and his lips part ever so slightly to let it in. “Can you handle the heat? Jou?”

He lets out a shaky breath as you form his given name. “I can handle the heat.” His voice is quiet, breathy and rough in your ears as he says it. You’re not sure whether to believe him or not. You can feel him smirking and you nearly roll your eyes, but you can’t tear them away from his long enough.

And then his voice drops lower, you didn’t think it was possible, but it vibrates the air and your body as it does. “Break and kiss me, I dare you to.”

Your heart starts in your chest and your legs clench at the sound, your ears focusing in on the near growl of his voice, but you stand your ground. “I’m not falling for a dare like that. I won’t surrender that easily.”

Jou’s gaze seems to turn predatory at the sound of the word. He moves quickly, nose brushing yours and you’re sure he’s going to kiss you, but he moves further, head turning to his lips graze your ear. “Don’t think of it as surrender,” he whispers it and your spine straightens out from the electricity that shoots down it, “it’s more like submission.”

His movements then are sudden, much different to the slowness he had been moving with as he changes your positions. You’re a few feet away from where you just were, his strong hand placed on the wall just next to your face, the wall where he has now pinned you firmly. Your back is all too aware of the cold, hard surface behind you, curving over your heads as Jou looms over you, emerald eyes almost glowing in the dark as he takes you in.

Your head is forcibly tilted up to him from the position, your fingers still tangled in his hair. You felt like you were shrinking under him there. “Jou…” you breathed his name, trailing off as your wide eyes looked up at him.

His breath hitches at the sound of his name so breathless on your lips. His hand, previously on your back, drifts up to find your face. Calloused fingers graze your cheekbone and a possessive growl slips from his throat as your face subconsciously presses into his touch, seeking his warmth.

“What are you going to do now? Hm?” His question registers somewhere in your mind, but you’re dizzy. Your lips sigh, your chest heaving a bit in anticipation. Your fingers tighten lightly in his hair and he responds with an involuntary moan.

His hand on your face leaves, falling to the wall on the other side of your face, effectively caging you in. A swirl of passion and danger swims behind the green of his eyes as he leans in slowly, voice low and intoxicating. “I should warn you,” he murmurs, bringing his lips close to yours again, “I’m not a patient man.”

You chuckle softly in response, your lips brushing his as they part to do so, “Aren’t you all about taking things slowly, Jo? You’re nothing but patience.” Your tongue pokes out to wet your lips as you hold his eye contact, touching his lips subtly as you do so.

Jou’s breath hitches again as he feels your tongue brush against his lips. His fingers flex against the wall, restraint slipping. “You think I have an endless supply of patience?” His breath is warm on your skin and you swear you can see his eyes darkening in the shadows, pupils widening as he stares at you. “I’m not immune to temptation.” The cadence of his voice sets heat to your core as he burns into you. “You test my limits.”

“Isn’t that the point of this game?” You tease him. “To test limits. Make it impossible for the other to resist anymore?” Your nails scratch lightly at the base of his neck, trying to break him before he breaks you.

The sensation of your nails sends shivers down Jou’s spine, his resolve crumbling. He tries to maintain his composure, hands tightening against the wall. “You will be the death of me.” His breathing is ragged as he confesses it. “But damn, if that isn’t the sweetest way to die.”

He steals your breath as he finally closes the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips with his own. You pull back with a gasp, enough to mumble a taunt against his lips.

“I believe this is a loss for you, Jou.”

Jou’s laugh is husky and deep, his voice matches as he brushes his lips to yours again. “This is no loss for me sweetheart.” A small growl escapes him again as his fingers tangle in the hair at the back of your head, pulling you back in for a deeper kiss. He was showing you that he was still in control of your game. That regardless of the rules previously set, it was still going on.

You whimpered at his grip on you as his tongue brushed your lips. You grant him the access he wants without hesitation, welcoming the intensity as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth. The taste of him is intoxicating, dangerously sweet and it makes heat pool up in your abdomen.

Your hands left his hair, clutching at his shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscles there as you tried to keep yourself steady between him and the wall, your knees feeling weak. You didn’t expect him to be as all-consuming as he was, so utterly addicting. You could feel more of your control slipping the more he kissed you.

You wanted more. More of his kisses. More of his hands in your hair. More of how his tongue brushed against yours. More of him.

“Jou.” You whimpered his name into his mouth, the form of it slurred from refusing to keep your lips from his anymore.

The sound of it, breathy and pleading, seemed to only fuel Jou’s desire. He pressed his body closer to you, erasing any space between you. His tongue danced with yours, fingers tugging on your hair harder, body pinning you against the wall. Everything done with the heat of a possessive claim.

He broke the kiss, but only for a moment so his lips could find somewhere else to touch you. His lips now traced a heated path down your neck, claiming you there too. “Take this off.” The green fabric belonging to your best friend fluttered to the floor before you registered that his hands had even pulled the jacket off of you. His tongue against your neck distracted you from any protests you might have had. “Mine,” he growled possessively against your skin.

The word sets something off inside of you. Your eyes close in serenity, in surrender, focusing only on how his lips feel against your skin. “Say it again, please.”

His voice rumbles in your ear as his lips leave trails of electrifying heat. He answers your plea. “Mine.” The possessive word surrounds you. “You’re mine. To consume. To claim.” Each word is paired with his teeth grazing your skin. Exhilarating and overwhelming as he stakes his claim. “Now say it back,” he demands quietly, breathing ragged, “tell me.”

You’re panting, your heart rate irregular as he claims you with his mouth, his hands, his words. “I’m yours, Jou.” Every touch was setting your nerves alight. “You can claim me. I’m yours.”

Jou pulls back to take in the look on your face, your flushed cheeks and heaving chest. His feral grin widens at the sight and he curses softly. “Good girl,” he praises you, approval coating his lips as they find yours again, hungry for you. His hands are on your hips now, tugging them closer, claiming you with explosive heat in the middle of the cold tunnel.

“Mine,” he mumbles it against your lips and you seem to feel it more there, the air thick with his possessiveness over you. “Say it again.” It was nearly a beg as he groaned around it.

“Yours.” You moaned the word into his mouth, letting his body press into yours against the wall, knowing you were still out of sight from any possible prying eyes. “I’m yours,” you gasped them this time as his grip tightened. The gasp turned into a small moan as your body reacted to him, lifting onto your toes to get closer.

He reacts to every one of your reactions. A growl escaping in response to your moans. Grip tightening in your hair and on your hip in response to you lifting up to him. He’d known he wanted you but he hadn’t expected his desire to feel so intense when he finally had you.

He had to break the kiss for a moment, if not to just breathe. His eyes locked with yours, filled with need. “You know what you’re doing to me right? I can’t resist you when you moan like that.”

You were trying to catch your breath too, your thoughts focusing on how his hand ran up and down over the curve of your hip. “I thought we stopped trying to resist each other.”

“You’re right.” His lips found yours again, stealing away the breath you’d just caught. “Resisting you is a lost cause and I don’t want to anymore.” His hand trailed from your hip, across your back, to your other hip so he could grab you and keep you pinned to him rather than just the wall. “I want you. All of you.”

You whined against his lips, pressing into the kiss more to try and muffle the sound. “You have me. All of me.” You repeated his words back to him, fingers again finding the hair at the base of his neck, letting your nails scrape against his scalp as you tugged on the strands. “All you have to do is take me.”

The combined feeling of your nails and your words sent a jolt of electric possessiveness coursing through Jou’s veins. He effortlessly lifted you up, pinning you to the wall again as your legs instinctively wrapped around him. His hands explored your curves with a new sense of urgency, as if wanting to claim every inch of you right here and now.

The feeling of your hips pressed so tightly down onto his had your breath shuddering. “Don’t hold back anymore, Jou,” you encouraged.

He was still holding on to that last sliver of self-control as his grip found your thighs and tightened. “You’re playing a dangerous game, now.” It was a warning, that he didn’t want to hold back anymore, that he was ready to take what he wanted if you gave your consent. “You know what happens if I stop holding back, right?”

Your teeth nipped at his lower lip and he growled in response. “Tell me then.” You knew you were playing with fire, you just didn’t mind getting burned if it came from him.

Something carnal flashed behind his eyes as his grip tightened even more, leaving a delicious stinging sensation in the soft flesh of your thighs. “I’ll devour you.” It sent shivers down your spin. What a way to go. “No holding back, no hesitation. Intense and insatiable. I won’t stop until I’ve had my fill of you.”

You moaned softly, pulling at his lower lip again. “Do you fantasize about me, Jou? About this?” You scrape your nails along the back of his neck, reveling in the shaky groan he gives you before you brush them back into his hair to tug softly. “Do you have images of this in your head when you try to sleep at night?”

His heart is racing, his voice escaping in a needy whisper, “yes.” His admittance is filled with desire as he drinks in your attention. “I fantasize about this. About you. The things we could do together. When I sleep, I see you in my dreams. I crave you, raw and unfiltered.”

You reclose the gap between your lips, groaning into his mouth as you tug on his hair again, craving another one of his reactions. “I want you to tell me every thought. Every raw and unfiltered way you need me. Intense and insatiable.” You repeat his phrases back to him and can see him let go of that last sliver. “I hope you never get your fill of me.”

Jou’s lips move to graze your ear as he delivers what you ask. “I want you in every way possible. To worship you with my hands and my mouth. To explore every inch of your body. I want to make you feel things no one else could even dream of making you feel. Want you to scream my name until it’s the only word you remember.” Possessiveness, desire, need. It all flowed out of his words and into your ear, filling you with the same heat he was feeling. “I’ll never get my fill of you, sweetheart.”

“Jou?” You kissed him again. “Make your name the only thing I remember.”

His resolve shattered like glass. The green jacket you’d worn into the tunnel lay abandoned on the ground - sure to cause problems later - as he dragged you from the shadows and deeper into Shishitoren territory. He paused every few blocks to press you into another wall and kiss you, hands scraping against your skin as he led you to the Ori.

You’re unfamiliar with the area he’s led you to, a small room hidden out of sight that he’s seemed to make into his private room. Only a bed and a dresser in the room, but private and off limits to anyone else.

“Let’s see if you can handle what I have in store for you.” He teases, hands brushing along your waist.

“I can handle anything that you give me,” you challenge. “Make me forget everything else.” You cling to him, keeping your body pressed completely to his. “Nothing matters but you.”

He kicks the door shut without looking, the lock clicking to seal you both into a world where only you and he existed. A sanctuary to forget and let go of everything else.

“Prove it.” He sets you down on the bed, breath ragged as he towers over you. He pushes his glasses off his head and the clatter to the floor somewhere.

“Touch me, Jou,” you command, pulling him closer with a grip on his jacket, “and don’t stop.”

His body ached at your demand, lest overtaking him as he captured your lips in a feral kiss that made your head spin. His hands roamed your body urgently as your hands stripped him of his jacket. He tossed the fabric aside, forgetting it instantly as he focused on you and you alone.

His kisses trailed down your neck, teeth nipping at your skin and marking it as his. He left trails of desire in his wake that seeped into your skin. His hands worshiped your curves, memorizing the shape of you beneath his fingers. Your breathing stuttering and hitching, whines leaving your lips and filling the air every time that he left another mark on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I want all of you Jou, all of you.”

His breath was hot against your skin as he possessively traced the curve of your waist. “Are you sure? There will be no more going back.”

You grabbed his hand and guided his fingers lower, to the bare skin of your torso, just under the hem of your shirt. “I won’t ask to go back.”

Carnal need flashed in his eyes as he felt your bare skin, cold against the heat and desire of his fingertips. “You asked for it,” he breathed, a reminder. Deliberate slowness propelled his movements, beginning his exploration of you. His fingertips traced along your curves under your shirt this time, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

His kisses became more fervent, more passionate, his tongue darting out to taste and savor you. He was deliberate in how he stripped your clothes from your body, gaze never breaking away so he could drink in every new inch of your exposed form.

Your skin heated under his every touch and gaze, a flash flood of insecurity and embarrassment flooding your system as you laid bare in front of him. Your chest still heaved, panting as need for the man hovering above you coursed through your body.

It was like Jou could sense your underlying insecurity and hesitation, so he took a moment, to really study you. You waited anxiously but his gaze only filled with an adoration that chased away your shadows of doubt. “You are beautiful.” Genuine admiration coated his tongue as his hands brushed over the expanse of your torso. “Every inch of you is stunning.”

His touch was gentle but insistent as he brushed over every dip and curve, eyes looking at you like you were a feast laid out just for him. “Let me explore you, let me worship you with every fiber of my being.” His lips curve under your jaw to press a kiss, hearing you gasp as his fingers trail the curve of your breast.

“I’m always so conscious of every move I make around you.” Your confession comes as your eyes flutter shut, your body canting up and into every touch on your skin. “How I look, how I talk. If I breathe the wrong way.”

He listens dutifully to your confession, his lips trailing the side of your neck as he makes a path to your ear. “There is nothing wrong with you,” he mumbles the reassurance, “you’re beautiful inside and out. Your every move, every breath, every word. All of it is perfect.” His touches become more tender, hands trailing down your body with reverence. “Let me show you how I adore every part of you.”

Your breath hitches and your back arches off the bed, your bare chest pressing to his as you wind your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as his compliments ring in your ears. “Show me, please.”

Jou’s own breath staggers at the way your body arches into his and your breath turns ragged. Desire and possessiveness for you intensifies and he wastes no time in fulfilling your request. His touches become ravenous, lips trailing your neck with a growl as his hands grip at your curves you with a newfound urgency, pulling your body impossibly closer, eager to worship and consume each part of you.

“You have no idea,” he growled against your skin between kisses, raw desire slipping through the cracks in his voice, “the things I want to do to you.”

“Do them,” you encourage him, “leave marks down my neck, down my body, so they all know I’m yours.” You tug on his hair again, redirecting his mouth to yours so you can kiss him deeply, moaning your final request into his mouth. “I’m yours, show me how you make me yours.”

His eyes flashed with desire, hands roaming lower. An animalistic groan rumbled out of him as his kisses grew rougher, teeth nipping at your skin again. He left possessive marks in his wake as his hands teased and caressed, tracing intricate patterns along your sensitive skin. “As you wish, I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

His lips trailed over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck and your collarbone. Light kisses and rough bites, sloppily sucking skin between his lips. The mix of feelings sent shivers down your spine. Every mark left a whispered word of desire and devotion to fill your ears, “Mine,” he murmured, “all mine.”

All you could do was parrot the words back each time he made the claim, “all yours, Jou.” Whines and pleas mixed into your panting breaths as he moved across your body, lips attaching to your chest now. Every moan from you set Jou’s control further away.

“You’re mine,” he said again, “every inch of you belongs to me.”

“Every single inch,” you confirmed. “Jou,” you breathed his name, your own needs surfacing, “tell me you’re mine too. Please.”

He pauses for a moment, head lifting so his eyes can lock onto yours. “I’m yours.” It’s said with a sincerity that leaves no doubt behind it. “Every part of me belongs to you.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer keeping your body flush with his. “You own me, heart and soul,” his lips brush against your ear as he whispers it, pairing the confession with a soft scrape of his teeth against the lobe of your ear, “and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Tenderness and adoration, a shared ownership of each other.

You squirmed at the intensity of his words, whining when his clothes rubbed roughly against your bare skin. “Every part of you.” It was your turn to let your lips wander. Kissing along his jaw, you suckled a bit of skin just under it to leave a small mark of your own on his skin. “Heart, body, and soul.”

A low, primal sound echoed out of Jou’s throat at the feel of your mark on his skin. One hand quickly gripped your chin as he brought your lips back to yours. He possessively claimed another kiss from you as his hands fumbled to remove the rest of his clothing, wanting nothing more than to be even closer to you. To feel you, skin on skin.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, voice heavy with desire as he pressed you back into the mattress, “all of me.” His desire to proclaim himself as yours was nearly as great as his desire to claim you as his.

Your lips left his to attach to another section of his neck, marking there too as your nails raked down his neck, past his shoulders and to his biceps where they found home in his flesh. “I’m yours, Jou. Have me.”

His body responded to your touch readily, leaning into the marks you left, a low groan escaping at the feel of your nails digging into his arms. “I will,” the sound sounding like both a promise and a plea.

He made true to his word, hands worshiping your body, pinching and groping in all the right places as they travel to where you need him the most. His chest swells with pride and possessiveness as he feels how wet you are for him, your gasps only fueling him more.

“You’re mine,” he growls again, thoughts gone from his clouded mind as all he can focus on is you, you, you. His need only escalated as he reached for himself, guiding himself into you in a single, swift, fluid motion.

The roughness of his thrust and sudden stretch had your brain going fuzzy. All that surrounded you was the possessive growl of “mine” filling your ears once more.

You could feel the press of his lips onto yours again, feral and ravenous as he devoured the gasps and moans you released into his mouth. Pure ecstasy flowed between you as he pulled back only to cant his hips forward again.

Devotion poured from him into you. “Mine always.” He murmured, barely keeping his voice intelligible.

“Yours,” you promised back when you found your voice again through your pants and whines, “always yours, Jou.”

His thrusts picked up in response, rougher and more passionate. A growl came from his chest as his grip on your hips tightened, bringing you up to meet his thrusts. He caught your eye contact and locked onto it. “Mine, I’ll never let anyone else have you.” His pace quickened, breath coming in ragged gasps as he moved inside you. "I will never let you go."

“Promise it to me,” you begged, gasping for air as one of your hands traveled lower down his arm, towards his hand, needing it in your own, “promise you won’t let me go.” 

His grip on you tightened immediately, his thrusts pausing so his hand could find yours, the one you needed to hold. He intertwined your fingers tightly, devotion leaving his lips as he pressed them to the tips of your fingers. “No one, nothing,” he kissed gently, eyes staying on yours, “will come between us, I promise you.” You melted under his touch and his gaze. “You’re mine and I’m yours.” He resumed his previous pace and intensity, showing just how deeply he meant it.

Your eyes fluttered shut, hand gripping onto his tightly to ground yourself. Your leg wrapped around his waist, hips lifting to give him more access. Your free hand found his cheek, guiding his lips back to yours, intent on swallowing every sound he made and having him swallow yours.

Jo groaned into the kiss, his movements leaving you breathless. His own grip on your hand tightened as his need grew more intense. Shared sounds of your pleasure and need filled the air of the small room. “I’ve wanted you so badly.”

“You have me.”You couldn’t tell whose breaths were whose now, each of you breathing in the air of the other. You were dizzy and enveloped by only him. The soft sheets of his bed beneath you. The hard press of his body above you. His hand in yours. His body merging with his. “You have me, Jou.”

His breath hitched, hearing the words leave your lips. His movements grew more eager, fingers finding your hair, curling into it as he pressed his forehead to yours, no longer able to keep up with the kissing. You both panted into each other’s mouths as his eyes coaxed yours to make contact again.

You whined when his hand tugged on your hair again, your lips whispering prayers of his name as you looked into his eyes. You wanted to look away, the intensity too much for you, but you couldn’t. You wanted to bathe in his attention.

Jou revels in the reaction his gaze has on you, taking advantage of how your head tilts, exposing your neck to him again. He breaks your gaze to kiss at your neck, hot breath against your skin, sloppily trailing kisses and love bites down the scorching line of your throat. He relished in the sound of your whimpers and prayers, lips falling to your chest, marking every inch of skin he could reach.

Every brush of his lips held another affirmation of his love, “you’re so beautiful.” He groaned praises in between kisses, moans of your name accompanying it. You panted and gasped in response, his own name continuing to fall from your lips in desperation, breathy sighs and ecstasy that only spurred him on.

He touched you with adoration, every new noise he drew from you creating an addictive symphony that sent electricity down his body. His body picked up pace, moving against yours in a deadly rhythm that matched the wild pounding of your heartbeats. Both of your breathing was ragged, needy as you teetered on the edge of ecstasy.

His urgency only grew, intoxicating as his fingers delved back into your hair, tilting your head further, opening your neck to him more. His grip tightened slightly, the right amount of pressure as he pressed your body close to his, lips exploring more of the skin on your neck.

Every thrust was a new claim on you. He owned every part of you already in this moment, and you were helpless to do anything but surrender to him. Every utterance of adoration making you fall deeper into him. He captured your lips again, possessive and ardent. “So beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, breath hot in your mouth, “so perfect.” His kisses peppered against your jaw. “And all mine.”

His whispered words of love and devotion were filled with desire and admiration. Passion and worship. Every shared breath and touch set your soul on fire. His name on your lips only fueled him more, answering your please with fervent movements.

Jou’s hand tightened in your hair again, reconnecting your lips and sucking in your gasps. “I love you,” he whispered into your mouth, “I love you, I’ll never let you go.”

Your body seized, his praise and confession making you dizzy, gasping for breath you couldn’t find. You were truly drowning in him. “My beautiful girl.” You felt yourself clench around him at the sound and he smirked into your mouth. “You like being praised, don’t you?”

You shuddered but nodded and his movements became more deliberate, leaving you feeling boneless as he thrust repeatedly into the same delicious spot. “You like it when I tell you how perfect you are?” His teeth rolled over your bottom lips. “How beautiful you are?” He soaked in every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. “And how you’re all mine?” You whined and squeezed his hand, nails digging in unintentionally. “I could praise you forever to get these reactions from you.” His teeth found your neck again, nipping roughly at a spot before using his tongue to soothe it.

Your body couldn’t help but arch up into his at the prospect of forever. “I love when you talk like this.” Your hand left his bicep, finding his neck again, scraping along the nape of it as you pressed your hips into his.

Jou groaned as your nails scraping over his skin. His breathing grew ragged, softly growling at your words, his grip falling to your hips, almost bruising as his movements became more possessive, frantic. He pressed his body closer lost in the pleasure and intimacy, craving more of you.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse from his own broken moans, “the way you react to my words, to my touches,” he grazed up your side to emphasize and you gasped, “those tiny noises you make…” he groaned as you squeaked from the way he thrust into you harder, rougher. “It drives me insane.”

“I adore you.” His tone changed just as fast, his kisses getting sloppy as his hips stuttered. “I could spend forever worshiping you.”

“Then keep me forever,” you whisper back, moaning as your body begged for more and more of him.

“Forever,” he repeated, a growl against your lips, “I’ll keep you forever.” His pace was ferocious, the bed shaking from it as he claimed you. “I’ll never let you go,” he promised, mouth covering yours in another searing kiss. “You’re all mine now and no one else will ever have you.” His voice sounds thick, heavy with desire and a feral possessiveness.

“You’re mine forever, to worship, to adore, to claim for eternity.” Every phrase is punctuated with another thrust, another kiss. “My beautiful, perfect girl. This isn’t just some mindless fling. I’m going to keep you, make you mine in every way.”

“In every way.” You repeated back, frantically nodding your consent for him to do so, to do whatever he pleased with you. “However you want, whatever you want, Jou.”

Your words seemed to ignite something under his skin, Jou’s body shuddering above you as he took in your words and the desire behind them. He growled against your skin at your eager consent, body responding to your words and his mind reeling from your submission. His grip on your hip moved to your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. He left another mark on your collarbone as he whispered another promise into your skin.

“You’re so willing to give yourself over to me. It’s intoxicating.” He said it as if in awe, marveling over how you so willingly put yourself at his mercy. “I intend to take advantage of that,” he warned, his eyes staring at you with raw desire and adoration. “I’m going to make you mine, claim you so thoroughly that you’ll forget anyone else ever existed before me.”

“No-” you shook your head, “no one existed before you.” You moaned loudly in his ear as your nails found his shoulders again. “No one but you Jou.” Your insides twisted up. “No one else when there’s you.”

Jou reacted viscerally to your words, deep guttural groans escaping his lips as he buried his face in your neck, panting. His pace bordered on frenzied and you felt yourself crumbling. “Damn right,” he growled, “no one else for you. Only me. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

His groan into your neck morphed into broken moans from his pace. The idea of nothing but the two of you mattering had ecstasy shattering over both of you. Your lips formed broken moans of ‘only you’ as your body fell into release.

As you both shattered together, Jo’s body tensed and then trembled above you, his own climax hitting him hard and leaving him breathless. You could feel his ragged pants against the clammy skin of your neck, his body shuddering as he struggled to catch his breath, to come down.

His grip on your hip and your hand loosened, fingers tracing gentle, soothing circles on your skin in a sharp contrast to the wildness of his previous touches. He barely kept himself held above you as you both were consumed in your own world. His voice was still rough but soft with affection for you as he whispered again.

“Only me, only you,” he kissed you deeply, “only us.”

a/n "only us" and the shishitoren boys who are about to show up at the ori and not let you be able to sneak out unseen... and your best friend who may just find his abandoned jacket in that tunnel and fear the worst...

TAGLIST

@qichun @starlitsawamura @oooohno @albakugo @yisxn

@toria175 @tsukiran

[yuri-is-online]

Was Lilia more “Oh my thorn fairy I have another child?! I can barely cast a spell as of now and future me wants a fucking KID?! AT THAT AGE?!”

Or more of a

I HAVE ANOTHER SON?! AND IT’S FROM ME!?

If his Yutu tells him he comes from the future? Because it could imply he does regain his remaining years and magic. Idk how you wrote that problem that even rn it’s giving talk about Lilia surviving book 7 or not.

If it’s the second I already see him passing by Silver’s room really excited and saying “YOU HAVE A BROTHER!” And zooming off, leaving a very confused Silver and thinking he refers to either Malleus or Sebek.

technically anon asked first but this ask is much longer so it was awkward to screenshot for an answer. Here is the link the anon used for reference, I obligated as an elderly hater to let you know it's from SAO. Anon's idea is extremely good and we're going to roll with it for this Yutu's Uniqe Magic because you know he was always going to be a little shit.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FOR: Book 7, Lilia's back story, and Silver's unique magic. Please engage with this in mind. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

I have a bit of difficult time writing for Lilia given how much older he is than the rest of the cast, so I tend to write his Yuu as being a bit older themselves. Maybe they had an extremely difficult childhood and connected with Lilia over their shared sense of robbed innocence. Whatever it was I think this Yuu has a bit of a fascination with creatures of the night and a lot of their weirdo reputation within their community comes from kids telling each other that Yuu and Yutu are vampires. That makes me tempted to say Lilia! Yutu's real name is Alucard or Sebastian, something vaguely vampire themed.

None of those rumors are helped by Yutu finding himself very lethargic when out in the sunlight or his preference for colder temperatures. From his perspective he can't exactly help being who he is, people should really just get over themselves and let him do his thing. It's not his fault that bats really seem to like him for some reason, the neighbors are exaggerating Mr. Animal Control officer he swears.

Because he prefers to spend his awake hours in the dark, he is waaaaay too comfortable doing things and going places he shouldn't. He's real familiar with all the abandoned buildings and sketchy alleys of your town and has tagged quite a few of them. I like the idea of Lilia! Yutu being really interested in street art and Graffiti. I could see him putting up a bunch of bats everywhere and getting in a bunch of trouble for it. He has very fond memories of Yuu letting him paint murals on portions of their house in an effort to meet him halfway. He might like a good prank but unlike his father Yutu is always pulling his punches with Yuu.

Lilia didn't exactly have a supportive parent while he was growing up, something I feel like Yuu remembers and is very conscious of in their parenting of Yutu. Unfortunately for Lilia they also remember that he had another child and was a lot older than them, something Yutu raises several eyebrows at and causes him to ignore the things Yuu tries to tell him about his "great sense of humor" and "desire for different peoples to learn and grow with one another-" yeah that's great can you back up a bit to where you said he had another family? Yutu goes through life thinking he was the product of an affair Yuu had with a much older, married man who was just trying to feel young again. The amnesia stuff... sometimes he wonders if his dad tried to have Yuu killed. He never says it out loud because something tells him he's wrong, but gut feelings aren't as trustworthy as statistics...

So you can imagine his surprise when he tumbles out of a coffin and is told that his dad was a faerie general bound in service to a family of dragons, veteran of an ancient war, and technically the adoptive father of the Prince of the children of the night and the Prince of the rival human kingdom that killed his best friends. One of which is alive and overwhelmed with joy to meet him. Silver wanted Yutu almost as badly as Lilia and Yuu did so to see him alive and awkwardly squirming in his arms? Silver hasn't cried this much since they lost Lilia and Malleus.

Having a proper older brother, not just the concept, is an extreme change for Yutu. He's used to it just being him and Yuu, and he was sort of expecting Silver to hate him just for existing. Nothing could be further from the truth, Silver wants his younger brother to have the same freedoms he did while attending school but he also respectfully requests that Yutu spend at least some of his free time with him. He tried desperately to find his dreams over the years and was never able to make firm contact, but he doesn't want to pressure Yutu into caring about him. Yutu is didn't realize how badly he wanted other family members until he got to have Silver, he's even willing to take up sword fighting so they can get closer.

Sebek is also overwhelmed with tears upon seeing Lilia! Yutu. He is a bit harsh on him for "not living up to Master Lilia's legacy" because he doesn't know anything about fighting. He does applaud him for his willingness to learn. Yutu thinks Sebek is hilarious and messes with him just as much as Lilia does. Something Sebek is completely willing to let him do because it makes him feel like Lilia never left.

All of the Yutus get to see some of the photographs Yuu left behind, but Lilia! Yutu is especially interested in them. He makes a small photo album of all the ones he can find of his dad, especially ones where he's with Yuu and Silver. He's partially driven by guilt for thinking his father was a terrible person, but really he just wants to feel closer to him. He's half fae, and sure he has Sebek to talk about that with but what he really needs is a connection with his father. Yutu doesn't really care about being a faerie. He just cares about his dad's acceptance, everything else can go hang.

I don't have a name for his unique magic, but going off of anon's idea it allows him to overwhelm his target's mind, forcing them to think about their greatest fears to the point they are convinced they are really going through it. Someone hates spider? All over their face and in their clothes. Crippling fear of failure? Suddenly that emotion is all they can focus on. And if it's a mindless creature like a blot phantom or a monster they become overwhelmed with the sensation that they are unable to breathe and about to die. Yutu can't control the illusion the person experiences so usually he tries not to use it on his classmates.

That changes when he goes into the past. Some rando want to shit talk Yuu? Nightmare. Macho NRC guy wants to rumble? Nightmare. Some random guy jumped out from behind him and yells "BOO!" Nightma-

If Yutu had been just a hair slower he would have been in extreme pain, the dangerous glint in those familiar ruby eyes scream that. The short fae smiles almost cruelly, advancing on him clearly upset even though Yutu has dropped the spell.

"Well now, that's no way to great a senior." Lilia's voice is strangely soothing, it occurs to Yutu that this is probably the first time his father has ever been angry at him and he can't help himself. He laughs,

"Yeah sorry about that." He makes sure to try and be cute about it, which helps to diffuse the tension some what. "You really scared me so it was all I could think to do."

Lilia is very impressed by Yutu's reflexes and control over his unique magic. He is even further impressed by how eager Yutu is to train with Silver. The kid has some real promise and fits into Silver and Sebek's dynamic better than Lilia could have dreamed of. He really hopes the two will benefit from having a relatively normal human friend their age to train with. Maybe he and Yuu will stick around and give him some piece of mind about the kids being in good hands when he's gone.

Yutu hanging around Diasomnia gives him an excuse to chat with Yuu more, not that he exactly needed it. Lilia sort of hates the way he's drawn to you, it feels unfair. Unfair to you to give you hope there could be something more and toy with your affections; unfair to him for life to finally allow him to realize what romantic love is like just in time to have to let it go. There is a bittersweet tone to all of your interactions that his housemates are a bit too socially awkward to pick up on but Cater does.

Yutu is surprised how much he likes Cater, he associates him with a terrifying monster he's had to fight multiple times, not a fun guy who is really determined to help his parents get together. And what's even better he's really chill when Yutu asks for stories about Lilia, he has a lot of them and a completely different perspective than his older brother allowing Yutu to glean some more insight to what his parents might have been thinking in the future.

He finds himself spending a lot of time with the pop music club, not as an official member though he's not great at carrying a tune. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are glad to have another person to chill with, sometimes they'll play music and Yutu will draw something based off whatever noise they made. Cater wants to talk him into doing album art for them... you know if they ever get around to making a recording.

I think Yutu will only tell Lilia who he is if he has no choice. He wants to mess with the timeline as little as possible, but should a monster from his timeline appear in this one, say like an overblotted Yuu another asker was so nice as to bring up, well it's not like he says who he is. He just addresses the monster as his parent and has a very loud meltdown not wanting to fight them again. Something Malleus is more than willing to assist him with.

"Think nothing of it." Malleus's power is truly terrifying, Yutu is torn between sorrow that he wasn't on their side and relief he didn't overblot a second time. "You are Lilia's son yes? That makes you my subject, and a most precious one at that." Not that Yutu has avoided interacting with Malleus exactly, he's just found talking to him exceptionally awkward because well. He's not Yuu, he's very aware of how important Malleus is supposed to be. But the way he's looking at him now makes him think that maybe he was missing out on interacting with another older brother.

Something that's confirmed when he turns to see how big his father's eyes have gotten, the man is shaking as he stares at his face and flicks between him, Malleus, and Silver like he's staring at the most precious pieces of art in the whole universe.

As you brought up Lilia's survival isn't guaranteed, I did not solve that problem at all. I sort of just... wrote that Lilia would age more or less like a normal human and not really be able to use magic on par with what a fae would consider normal but would still be impressive to a human... so while Lilia might be a bit reluctant to show his face in Briar Valley he would still have enough years to have and raise Yutu. He might have actually died around the same time as Yuu if they had lived a normal life.

He is overwhelmingly excited at the thought of having another baby. Lilia might not know what to do with them but he does really like kids. What's harder for him to accept is his relationship with Yuu. Raising a child is something he's done before, being someone's long term partner is not. He is unused to feeling desirable, and unfamiliar with acting on his own desires. Sure Lilia might seem very free spirited, but much of his life has been dictated by a sense of duty. The thought of having something precious to him that chose him specifically of their own free will is... disarming. He's overwhelmed with how helpless you make him feel and how little he despises it.

Yutu's need to be accepted by his father is met and exceeded almost immediately. Lilia wants to cook a big family dinner for Yuu and all of his boys, something that Malleus politely rejects asking if he can instead show his Culinary Crucible skills off to Yutu (it's really so he can make babiest brother promise to never eat anything Paw Paw makes EVER) and it's all so normal Yutu almost forgets that he's listening to a practical god smugly tell him he knows all about edible weeds as his father flies around him cracking jokes and pinching his cheeks. His older brother is asleep on the couch waiting for the food to be done and his precious parent is helping his Uncle Sebek set the table, listening to him sniffle about how beautiful Master Lilia's family is.

Lilia might be practically retired, but his mind is still sharp. The information Yutu is able to pass on to him lands in good hands. When he tucks Yutu into bed that night, long after the boy has gone to sleep so as not to embarrass him he makes sure to take a good long look at the little miracle. He is beyond grateful Yutu exists, not even the Thorn Fairy could have given him a finer blessing (he'll have to make sure to tease you about that later, that's got to be a good pick up line) He will make sure that this risk his son has taken pays off, Lilia Vanrouge wasn't feared for no reason. Something it seems some foolish mortals need reminding of.

[kray-zay]

@heartsandsparksshipweek day 3 mermaid au, yipee

The basic sorta plot setup ↓↓↓

Tracks had always been curious about the surface. He heard interesting things about it and saw the strange artifacts that floated down. He was always warned about going up there, it wasn't uncommon for a mer to visit the surface to never be seen again. he intended to just take a peek at what the surface has to offer and not get too close to land, but after seeing the strange light on the shore, he swam to get a closer look he never seen anything quite like it before, while he getting closer he accidentally gets himself tied up in fishing wire and beaches himself under a bridge. Raoul is a punk, a petty crook, a graffiti artist, and currently in debt to the Geddis Brothers, doing jobs for them to hopefully pay it back. He jumps a fence to do graffiti under a bridge, finding a weird fish man tied up and injured, and ends up cutting him free, helping him the best he can. Tracks is stuck in the stinky New York Bay until his wounds fully heal since most mers live in very deep parts of the ocean and the changing water pressure could make his Injuries worse, so he can't go home for the time being, his only company being when Raoul visits. The plot sort of follows Raoul, and Tracks keeps getting closer while at the same time getting into deeper and deeper trouble. Raoul gets more entangled in organized crime while Tracks unknowingly finds himself the target of a certain research group looking to capture and study him.

I have a few ideas about how this story ends, but it really depends on how I develop it. yeah, I will probably never write this fic since I'm busy focusing on other stuff, but if you like to use anything here to make a fic, go for it. I have a lot more ideas for this au, but it would be a mess of scattered notes if I tried to explain it, but you guys can send me an ask if ya want to know more.

The nice thing about New York is it actually does touch the ocean and a bay, I don't need to relocate Raoul for the AU to work, but no beautiful tropical Scenery like most mermaid aus, only stinky, polluted New York trash water.

[jennrypan]

..librarian x Jason Todd 👀

I'm so right. Walk with me. (First meeting!)

Imagine..being in an old library where you take care of so many books and keep trying to get people to come in, enjoy the literature but it's Gotham, everyone's far too focused on staying clear of the various villains to try and stop by to read an old book.

You contemplate closing it..maybe find a job in..who knows, a bank teller?

That idea just puts a different expression on your face and you huff quietly to yourself..you were so patient about your books and the history of this library but it was old..and no one seemed to care for libraries anymore, the building had graffiti all over the outside of it- which you tried to clean as best as you could..only for it to be dirtied once more and the windows were always getting broken by various hoodlums and one stray weapon at one point..fortunately the villains never seemed interested in some run down library so that was never an issue, but that didn't mean anyone came inside.

Until..a large figure came hurtling in through your windows..creating a huge mess of glass and wood before it landed on the floor with a thud and an annoyed grunt, you were so close to questioning the figure..a bat half way into your grasp before you noticed the bright red helmet.

"God dammit..Ivys not playin' fair."

His voice was almost..robotic? Deeper than any humans had any right to be, and you could only watch as Redhood, the Redhood stood in your library and simply dusted himself off, muttering to himself and slowly..you stepped back- you had no real negative opinion about the man but he wasn't someone you dreamed of meeting..no famous person in Gotham was anyone you wanted to meet in all honesty..they bought trouble.

Redhood tapped something on his helmet, muttering something under his breath- you briefly caught the words 'Nightwing' and 'Don't you fucking laugh' but you didn't intend to lean closer to figure out the full extent of that conversation, mostly focused on blending into the shadows of the dimly lit library..and worrying about how the Hell you're gonna fix your window this time..the window area was practically gone now cuz the guy was huge! So it might as well be a hole and you can't run a business with a hole! Everyone already thinks you're closing-

"Oh shit, I didn't know anyone was still in here."

The sudden statement caused you to near jump in the air..clutching your bat to your chest as you stared at the man who's head had turned to you..the bright white eyes of his helmet near gleaming and you wished you could see his expression to see what he was thinking.

His head tilted ever so slightly and when he did..thats when you realized you were simply staring at him unblinking like an idiot.

"Uhm-! Are you gonna pay for the window?"

Those were the first words that left your lips with your voice raising in pitch..and you immediately cringed a little, letting out a nervous cough.

There was a beat of silence before a low snort came from Redhood, his head turning towards the man sized hole he had created.

"Oh, sure."

He replied, and you were left staring at him again..blinking like an owl.

"..Sure?"

You repeated, watching as the man adjusted his jacket..black combat boots crunching over the glass shards that littered the ground, taping his helmet again..no longer paying you any mind at the moment.

"Yeah yeah..I hear ya, I'm on my way- got thrown into some.."

Redhood muttered, you could practically hear him rolling his eyes before his head tilted back..he was looking over at the shelves of books.

"Library?..huh."

You squinted a little at that. This was clearly a library! It may be run down and spooky but it had great books!

"Does that helmet make it hard to see?"

You grumbled under your breath, immediately tensing when the white eyes became trained on you..your mouth snapping shut as you gave him a nervous, thin lipped grin.

"Funny..anyways..I'll pay for the window."

Redhood reiterated, and all you could do is slowly nod and hum in acknowledgement- giving him a small thumbs up.

"Oh! Thanks? I mean you did..break it with your body, but thanks! Thats.."

There was another little chuckle from him before he climbed back through the hall not even letting you finish stumbling over your words! You clicked your tongue a little as you slowly set down your bed..walking towards the broom and dustpan to clean up the mess he left.

He's definitely not gonna pay you back..he's got other shit to be doing anyways.

Guess you got some saving to do.

[bullet-prooflove]

Feminism: David Hale x Reader (Feat: Jax Teller)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators @bennykk @kelpies-shed

Companion piece to Graffiti, Crime Wave, Distraction & Art School

Jax thinks that he was in love with you. The problem is you were bad for the club which meant you were bad for him so he cut you loose. It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do.

Your crime?

Feminism.

You don’t like the way the club treats it’s women and you’re vocal about it, not just to him but to others too. It gets Clay’s back up which is why his President tells him to put you in your place.

“A quick slap will knock that shit right out of her.”  Clay tells him as he puffs on his cigar.

But Jax, he could never raise a hand to you so he does something worse, something  irredeemable. He offers you out to the boys, he makes it clear you’re fair game, free for a fuck. He does it because he knows you’ll never stand for it, that you’ll be out of the door as soon as you realise he’s betrayed you.

“She’s a firecracker when you get her started, pull her hair, choke her a little and she’ll be the sweetest gash you’ll ever have.”

The words taste like poison on his tongue as he looks at you over by the bar, talking to one of the croweaters. You have no idea what’s coming.

It’s Tig that takes a run at you, that puts your hand on his cock and tells you he knows exactly what you like. You almost twist his balls off before giving Jax a look of complete contempt. That’s the night he comes home to find a five foot dick spray painted across the front of his house and David Hale tucking you into the back of a cruiser because a neighbour called the cops.

“Look, don’t charge her.” He tells Hale because he knows it’s shit like this that will get you kicked out of art school and he can’t stand to be the man that shatters your dreams. “I deserved this.”

“I have no doubt about that.” Hale tells him as he jots something down in his notebook before slipping it into his pocket. “I’m just surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”

He doesn’t see you again for a couple of months after that and that’s the way he likes it. He knuckles down, focuses on the club, fucks every woman that crosses his path. That’s how he learns to forget you, if he’s buried in pussy he’s not thinking about the woman who isn’t occupying his bed.

He doesn’t expect to see you on Main Street, he doesn’t expect it to be with Hale. He’s heard rumours that the Deputy Chief is seeing someone, that he’s got some prep in his step. It isn’t until now that he realises it’s you.

The two of you are outside the ice cream shop, waiting for the queue to die down. Hale’s arm is around your shoulders, his lips by your ear as he whispers something into it. You tip your head back and laugh and that sound, Christ it feels like his heart is being ripped right out of his chest.

It gets worse because there’s love there, real love. He can see it as clear as day. It’s in the way your fingertips chase along Hale’s jaw, your thumb brushing over his cheek. When you kiss him, it’s with a tenderness that the two of you never had and that’s when Jax realises that he’s fucked up. The man you’re in love with, he’s determined to bring down SAMCRO and there’s no way in hell Jax can ever let that happen.

Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[spnbabe67]

Darling, You Look Divine

Kinktober Day 21: Body Worship (D.W.)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2002

Warnings: Smut, Angst, John Winchester (Flashback), Fluff

Summary: When Tori starts to get insecure, Dean is more than happy to show his girl why she's beautiful

Authors Note: Title inspired by the song Eyes Don't Lie by Isabel LaRosa

Created for @anyfandomgoesbingo /Square Filled: Multiple Orgasms

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @nightxcreature

Dean knew something was off with Tori. She’d gone to take a shower after dinner while Dean was finishing up doing the dishes. When he came back to their room he found her standing in front of the mirror that he and Sam had hung up. Tori had complained about the fact that every time she wanted to see how an outfit looked, she had to go to the bathroom for the floor length mirrors in there, rather than the small one on the medicine cabinet in the room. She was standing there, gorgeous body on display, her hair still damp from her shower. Dean walked up behind her, placing his hands onto her hips as her brown eyes met his in their reflection. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head a yours?” Dean mumbled as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to her shoulder.

He felt her shrug, dipping her head before looking back up, catching his gaze in the mirror where he could see the glistening of tears starting to form. 

“Talk to me, Sweetheart.” Dean wrapped his arms around her middle, but hesitated as he felt her stiffen under his touch. “What’s goin’ on, Baby?”

“It’s nothing, I just,” Tori started, taking a deep breath as she placed a hand over Dean’s arms. She laughed a little, tilting her head to rest against his. “God, I feel like I’m back in high school, picking myself apart in front of a mirror.”

Dean had an inkling that’s what was bothering her. Lord knows he’s spent enough time in his years placed in front of a mirror. After coming back from Hell, he kept checking his body for all the scars he’d earned after years of hunting. But everytime Alistair and his demons broke him down to pieces, they put him back together better than he had been, including getting rid of the scars and marks from before he was sent down below. That didn’t even take into account how many times before he’d met Tori that he’d stared himself down, loathing every feature that he shared with John, loathing the hardness of his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyes had lost the spark in them. 

He vividly remembered being plunked down in a gas station bathroom, all dingy and covered in graffiti, stinking of piss and body odor. He couldn't have been older than 12 when John had decided that his hair had grown too long. He remembered pleading with him to let him keep his hair the way it was. Remembered the sternness of his fathers voice as he grabbed the clippers and a pair of medic shears from his bag. He could still feel the tears on his cheeks as John had taken the shears to his hair, then the clippers. When he was done, Dean glanced in the mirror, and he saw his father staring back at him, only John had already left the bathroom.

“Does my girl need a reminder of how pretty she is?” Dean said softly, smoothing his hands across her belly to her hips. 

“Dean-”

“Nuh uh.” Dean cut her off, squeezing her hips. “I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, alright?”

Dean waited for Tori to nod, catching her slightly confused look in the reflection. He kissed her shoulder as he let his hands brush across her body until they landed on her belly. 

“Let’s start here, shall we?” Dean traced small shapes across her skin, circling the tip of his index finger around her belly button. He knew this was the main source of her insecurity, she’d said so before, telling him how she’d gained weight living in one spot. She was the furthest thing from fat, not that he would mind either way. Bodies change, but no matter how she looked, she’d still be his Tori. 

“This is normal. This lets me know you are well fed. It’s my job to spoil you and make sure you are taken care of. This tells me I’m doing my job right. Besides, you know how much I love to lay my head here. Speaking of which.”

He slid his hands higher, cupping her breasts. Dean heard Tori’s breath catch, saw the flush of her cheeks. “Do you know how much these drive me crazy? How much you drive me crazy? Makin’ me go crazy when you wear those tight tank tops.” Dean rolled her nipples between his fingers as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Don’t you think for one second I don’t know you’re teasin’ me when you wear them.”

Her laugh was the sweetest music to his ears, so breathy as she arched her back into his hands. He smiled into her shoulder, eyes catching hers in the mirror. Dean slid his hands back down her sides, feeling her shiver under his ministrations as one ended up on her thigh.

“And these?” Dean slid a hand along the inside of her thigh. “Don’t even get me started on these. I love the way these look in your jeans, and in those tiny shorts you know make me lose my mind. How many times these legs of yours have saved my ass, carrying me back home. So strong but so damn soft, I can’t get enough. Can’t get enough of the way they wrap around my head when I’m between ‘em”

Dean wasn’t sure Tori’s face could get any redder, her blush traveling down her neck, her breath growing shallower as he slid his hand higher and higher until he cupped her soaked core. 

“And I know you know how much I love this. Love to taste you, love how well you wrap around me. So responsive for me.” Dean pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of Tori’s neck as he slid a finger down her center. 

She was already soaked as he ran his middle finger along her, finding her clit. His other hand wrapped around her waist, keeping her back pressed against his chest. “Keep those eyes open for me, Sweetheart.” Dean guided. 

Tori whimpered as he toyed with her clit, finding that perfect rhythm. Dean knew just how to make her fall apart. He’d mapped her body out in his head, knew every curve, every mark, every scar like it was his own. Most of all, he knew just how to have her moaning his name. His thumb took over as he slid his middle finger into her. She was so wet his finger slid in with little resistance, her inner walls fluttering around the digit. Dean watched on as Tori’s eyes were locked onto where his hand had cupped her core, where his fingers expertly moved in and out of her. 

Dean damn near purred as Tori reached up, carding her fingers through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He could feel her clench around his fingers as he added his ring finger, curling them upwards towards her belly. He was glad he had an arm around her waist as Tori’s legs started to shake, her hips rolling against his hand. 

“C’mon Baby. You got it. Let go for me.” Dean whispered to her. “Look how pretty you are when you cum for me.”

He cursed to himself as she clamped down on his fingers, moaning his name as she came, never taking her eyes off herself. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, panting as she came down from her high. Tori didn’t resist as Dean slid a hand under her legs, picking her up bridal style. He laid her down on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before crawling up the bed to nestle himself between her legs. Dean placed a kiss to the inside of her knee, trailing hot kisses along the softness of her inner thigh all the way back to the apex between them. 

“You’re the whole damn package, Sweetheart. So beautiful, I can’t ever take my eyes offa you. Not that I’d ever want to.” Dean nipped at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. 

His first taste of her was heaven. Instantly her hands found their way into his hair, tugging the strands as he laved his tongue up her center. Dean quickly found her puffy clit, pulling it between his lips, gently grazing his teeth against the bundle of nerves in a way that had her thighs squeezing his head. His hand snaked around Tori’s thigh and across her hips, holding them down to the bed, keeping her from wiggling too much. Her ragged moans met his ears, even through the tight grip her thighs had around his head as his tongue worked in and out of her, his nose nudging her clit

Quickly she arrived back at that high, keening as she came on Dean’s face. Dean happily worked her through her high, tongue flicking against her clit, dipping into her molten hot core until she was practically pushing his head away from between her legs. 

Dean pulled away, licking his lips as he pushed his sweats from his legs, his cock painfully hard from the moment he’d slipped his hand between her legs. He kissed his way up her body, starting at her pubic bone, letting his tongue drag every so often as he worked from her belly to between her breasts to the hollow of her throat until he finally claimed her mouth. Tori clung to him as Dean gently pushed himself into her. He moaned lowly at the feel of her velvet walls wrapped around him. There was no resistance as he slid in and in and in. 

“Feel so good, Sweetheart.” Dean praised, smoothing a hand up her side. “Takin’ me so well.”

He started to move once she had time to adjust to him, going slow at first as he kissed down her neck, hand coming up to squeeze her thigh as he placed it on his waist. Tori felt so good beneath him, so soft and pliant, juxtaposed to the hard edges of him. She was so damn pretty. Dean felt his heart swell with affection, in pride that he could say that this gorgeous woman was all his. 

“My pretty girl.” He mumbled against her mouth as he rolled his hips into hers, going at that languid pace that he knew had her barreling towards that edge once again. “Feel so good, my pretty girl.”

Dean could feel that heat low in his hips just as Tori started to sink her nails into his arm, whispering his name to the non-existent space between them. 

“I know, Baby, I know. Me too. Let go for me.”

Dean tried his best to keep the same pace, to keep his hips from bucking wildly into her heat as her walls fluttered around him, legs shaking. Tori’s third orgasm had her cumming hard, body going tense beneath him. She clamped down hard, triggering his own release. Dean claimed her mouth, moaning into the kiss as they shared their high.

Dean eased himself down beside her on the bed, pulling her to lay atop him as their breathing slowed. He caressed the side of her face, pushing inky strands of hair behind her ear. Tori smiled sleepily at him, both of them thoroughly fucked out. Dean traced up and down her spine, letting his fingers brush along her soft olive skin. 

“Thank you.” Tori pressed a kiss to his chest as she reached up, intertwining their hands. 

“No, thank you.” Dean replied. “I’ll take any chance I can get to show my pretty girl just how divine she is.”

Dean chuckled as Tori blushed hard again, hiding her face in his chest. She giggled as she looked back up at him. “What’d I do to deserve you, huh?” 

“I should be asking you that question.” Dean ran a hand through her hair again, the touch soothing for the both of them. “With you, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

[billskeis]

HEASIAIZIA HAI

CAN YOU MAKE LIKE BILL BEING A POLICE OFFICER AND THE READER DOING SOME STUFF THAT COULD GET HER IN JAIL BUT LIKE ok LISTEN she does the "everybody knows that im a good girl officer" thing (song by Lana del rey playing dangerous) and he lets her go but like the next day they meet again and go on a date and HOOKUP but he punishes her for doing that stuff (perhaps if it could be spraying on like stores if you get me) like punishes her not letting her release TYING HER WITH THE HANDCUFFS UGHHHHahhshshsHAJDSJS

ᡣ𐭩 police officer bill

police lights flash behind as you attempt to catch your breath in an alleyway. on the run, you’re currently hiding from the police as they’ve caught onto you and a couple of fiends vandalizing public buildings with vulgar graffitis.

as you hide your body behind a garbage chute, you kneel down to make yourself less known to the open world.

shouts boom across the street seeming as though a few of the cops have already caught onto your other friends.

bless the heavens that you weren’t caught.. yet.

“haah.. phew..! i think, i think i made it out alive!” speaking to yourself as somebody else was there.

“i don’t exactly think so, schatz.”

“oh sh—”

in your feeble escape, you try to make a run for it until a pair of arms latch onto your shoulders and push your body up against theirs.

“fuck! ow..”

“you really thought that you could get away..?”

you turn to look at the body that’s pressed up against yours. he was tall, and really pretty, actually you wondered why he didn’t just work as a model instead of being a police officer.

black locs adorned his face, with an eyebrow piercing accompanying his right, are they allowed to wear those on duty?

whatever, it makes him look hot.

“well.. i’ve been such a good girl officer.”

“my ass, you’ve been vandalizing the streets and these buildings for weeks and you know it.”

“it adds a little.. character! what can i say, this city could use a little colour to it.”

“as much as i love art, princess, what you’re doing is ILLEGAL.”

“no, what’s illegal is how hard you have this gun pressed into my backside, it hurts.”

“..?”

“um hello?? officer—”

you turn to find his name tag attached to the right side of his uniform. bill. officer bill.

“officer bill, can you at least move your gun to—i don’t know—the side more??”

“oh my sweet little thing.. that isn’t a gun.”

…

“oh.”

your eyes meet his, dark brown irises highlighted in the sunny light, his lips curled into a downward smile although his voice stern. it seems as though this police officer enjoys having you up against him.

you feel a rush of heat go to your cheeks, so you turn your body around. embarrassed, why? fuck if you’d know..

well maybe it’s the fact that the officer that currently has you captive in the back of an alleyway is not only super fucking gorgeous but he’s PACKING.

“i.. i—”

“i’m going to let you go.”

he releases his grip on you and you turn your full body to meet him once more, truly relishing in how tall and slim fit his figure is built. you have to look up at him to make eye contact.

“although under one condition,”

“and that is?”

“you go on a date with me,”

“fuck no. i’d rather be caught dead than go on a date with a police officer.”

truth be told, you did wanna go on this date, but your stubborn nature wouldn’t allow you to say yes so easily. you really wanted to test the waters and see how persistent bill was in getting that date.

“fine then, i am obligated to then turn you in.”

“waitwaitwait nevermind i’ll go on that date with you.”

fuck yourself for being this easy..

this little shit, how dare he pull the authority card on you after you had done something illegal and he do his job?? his face once emotionless now held a smirk on his lips before he slipped you a small paper.

“good girl. now stay here for a little longer, i’ll let the others know i couldn’t find you.“

“..kay, but i’m expecting a lot from you just so y’know..”

you wave him off goodbye as you see his figure disappear from away the alleyway. hearing voices chatter, you can only assume he came up with an excuse to let you off the hook in exchange for a date with you.

“oh trust me princess, i will exceed those expectations.”

“i—um..”

“use your words f’me princess,”

“how is this a date!?”

you’re currently on his bed, the tight little number that you wore is currently riding up your thighs as you clench them together.

prior to this, bill took you out to a restaurant that was AMAZING, and insisted that you go back to his house to drink a bit more.

to your naivety, bill had other intentions underlying his silver tongue words.

with your cunt hovering right above the tip of his dick, you cannot find the words to speak. how is this even possible?? how dumb could you be to sleep with a cop?? stupid stupid y/n.

with each hand on the side of your waist, the soft pads of bill’s fingertips graze over your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“you’re leaking onto me schatzi, sure you don’t want this?”

“shut up..”

with a harsh slam, bill pulls your hips flush to his, bottoming out. you let out a surprised squeak as your walls molds to his shape.

now you’ve had sex before but not with someone this big, the stretch is something you gotta get used to.

if you were to fuck him again.

“you better watch your mouth, maus.”

“f-fuck.. a little warning would be nice, no?”

“hm, nah..”

bill uses his hands to grasp each side of your ass before lifting you up to slide you up and down his length, the stretch burning a bit but it quickly subsides as he makes you ride him.

electricity sparks from within your body and you feel your stomach starting to clench. every time he brings your butt down to touch his thigh your clit rubs his abdomen momentarily.

with your orgasm coming close, you don’t even care about the noises that fall out of your mouth. you sound like a total slut. not that bill even cares.

“i-i’m close..”

he stops.

“bill..!”

“i don’t think you deserve to come yet.”

you grind your hips in circles in an attempts to release but he brings a hand to spank your ass.

“o-ow..”

“gimme a reason to let you release, hm? you been acting up for weeks, plus the multiple warnings the force has given you just hasn’t stopped you from committing crimes has it..?”

you bite your lip in a remains of silence. no way in hell were you going to beg bill to let you come.

he wraps his arms around your waist to bring your torso closer to his, now bringing his mouth to your bare chest to lick a stripe up from in between your breasts.

a moan in approval slips out of bill’s mouth as he then brings his tongue to lick around your right nipple swirling his tongue around it.

he bites on the bud eliciting a wince out of you. your hips still on his, an achy feeling still felt in your cunt as you yearn for more.

“so? what’s it gonna be maus?”

“please..”

“please what?”

“let me come.. bill,”

“okay, but i have another condition for you.”

you cock your head to the side in confusion, wondering what he’s up to now. that is until he releases an arm off you to reach for something on the bedside table.

oh fuck no.

“you kinky shit, handcuffs?”

“it’s apart of my get-up what can i say?”

“n-no.. i’m not wearing those.”

“well then i guess you can’t cum! i can sit and wait here all night baby.”

tears begin to well from your eyes, all you want is the sweet bliss of release and the man who wanted a date with you in the first place clearly isn’t give it to you unless you put your pride aside.

well, fuck it.

you present your wrists pressed together in front of bill, looking around the room in shame. a smirk falling down on his face as he clicks the metal gadget around your limbs now connected with one another.

“good girl.”

again with no warning, bill pistons his hips up into you at a harsh and fast pace. without falter, he keeps his rhythm to which you cannot catch up to.

choking on your words, all you can do is hold onto him for stability, the pressure brought to your g spot by his tip feels amazing.

“b-bill..”

“gonna be good f’me?”

“yes..!”

your legs begin to shake and quiver as your orgasm washes down on you but bill is nowhere near done with you, never stopping his hips.

“shit, looking at how you’re sucking me in..”

“gonna cause more trouble for me and my friends?”

you’re panting so hard and your brain and legs have become so mushy only small whimpers and whines fall out of your mouth. bill clearly isn’t satisfied with your behaviour, biting into your shoulders.

“answer me.”

“ung! n-no! ‘m sorry. hic ‘m so sorry billy i won’t c-cause you anymore trouble just—hic—please slow down..!”

your cunt all sensitive and sloppy, only squelching noises can be heard in bill’s bedroom as be fucks his dick into you. body so sensitive and overstimulated you let him do you as he pleases.

he leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest calling you dirty names but you can’t help but clench around him even more, milking his cock as if its asking for his seed.

your words fall onto deaf ears, clearly, as all bill does is go even faster at an inhumane pace you didn’t even know was possible.

“a-ah.. i can’t.. ‘m done, bill.. no more..”

“almost done baby, okay? just be a good girl for me and let me do the work..”

“a-ah nooo..”

it hurts. the pressure hurts. but its hurts so good.. with a final thrust, bill finally comes, releasing into your walls with his dick all nice and pressed up into your cervix.

“s-shit, coming..”

his moans are low and nasally. mouth agape and hands still on your hips with a grip so tight his nails dig into your skin leaving a trail of red marks.

your tummy feels warm and full, and bill’s thrusts in riding out his orgasm becomes all sloppy and sticky with how wet your cunt was.

you’re a hot mess, hair falling everywhere and body all sweaty. mouth lolled out as your head rest atop bill’s shoulder drool falling out.

he taps your shoulder and you raise your head to look at him, unable to open your eyes with how bill fucked the energy out of you.

“you okay maus?”

“mhm..” you nod at him as he places a sweet and gentle kiss onto your lips. all you can do is blush and smile, taking in how pretty bill is for a cop.

he shifts while still inside you, grabbing a key to unlock the handcuffs that left little marks of bruising on your wrist.

you rub your hands to smooth over the irritation. bill taking note of this swiftly grabs them and places a kiss on top of the marks. your cheeks burn red as he burn a gaze into your eyes, not looking away.

“did so damn good schatz, hope i fucked all that crime committing business outta ya.”

a/n : i hate this. i’m so sorry anon i feel like i disappointed you 😔😔😔

[bahrtofane]

here we go again - pt.3

pt. 1 , pt.2

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. or will you? can things be forgiven?

Word count - 1.9K +

Watch it - reader so sad but dw bae it gets better ! jude. Just jude. hehehe

—--

Madrid is bleak and bland when you get back, eager to find a routine, to busy yourself with anything, everything.

It's almost like there's a big joke being played on you because you're given Jude to create promotional posters for. It makes you want to cry, but you suck it up, download the pictures and get to work. Even if you have to scribble his face out the whole time.

Avoiding Jude becomes your obsession. You make it your top priority to avoid seeing him in person under any and all costs. You refuse to go anywhere near the stadium, training facilities. Blocking official accounts and avoiding tv when you know they're set to play.

You find jude everywhere. In the cracks of sidewalks where flowers bloom. Inside coffee shops when the smell of vanilla hits your face, under bridges where graffiti of smiley faces litter the concrete. 

His presence looms over the city like a specter, mocking your attempts to move on. You long for the day when his memory no longer haunts you, when you can walk through Madrid without feeling his presence at every turn.

Until then, you cling to the hope that time will heal the wounds he left behind, and that one day, you'll be able to reclaim the city as your own. But for now, Madrid remains a bleak and lonely place, haunted by the ghost of a love lost.

—-

Trent calls you about a week after you land, in the middle of your morning routine.

“How are you?”

You stifle a sigh, picking at your nails, “I'm really just peachy Trent,” padding over to your kitchen, opening the fridge.

“You know what I mean.”

You grab what you need, using your hip to close the fridge “I don't know why you keep calling me Trent. I'm fine. Tell jude to fuck off yeah?”

You hear a sigh from the other end, “jude has nothing to do with me checking up on you.”

“Sure.” you hang up. And he doesn’t call again.

—--

The office is always full of energy on match days, and you hate how it's become a tradition to all watch together. Weather in the stands or from the actual office. Your desire to show up in a barca jersey is very very strong.

Today is one day where you walk single file to the stadium and find your seats. Curse working for madrid, it brings you a little too close to the pitch for comfort. You spend half the game on your phone, even when your coworkers gently nudge your shoulder when Jude speeds to the post, you mumble something about work that needs to be done (you're on your settings.)

Jude scores, of course he does. And it's a beautiful goal, straight power, nothing but net. You're up cheering before you can stop yourself, smiling. You're smiling at Jude scoring. 

He jogs over to the crowd per usual, caught up in the adrenaline. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to scoring at home. The feeling is unbeatable. His eyes scan the crowd, and they just so happen to land on you. 

You're here? The cheers of the crowd fade out, his arms falling to his side, he's staring right at you. He's taken back to the night he left you alone. He’s a fucking idiot. You don't look away, if anything you lean forward in your seat. You're here. 

—--

Against better judgment he goes looking for you after the game. Running down hallways still in his kit, looking a mess with grass stuck all over him. At least he managed to kick his cleats off and grab the nearest slides he could find. He's pretty sure these aren't his but he doesn't care. Not right now.

He knows the staff tend to hang around after games, the issue is where.

Curse the never ending construction. The  place is a maze, an awful one without, with it feels like he's entering a different dimension at every turn.

He hears laughing and speeds down to find himself in a lounge full of people, all who rush to him to sing praises. He smiles. Trying not to get blinded by flash photography. A voice cuts through the crowd, a soft laugh. 

You're here. Oh you're here. 

He sees you tuck a piece of paper into a folder, smiling softly, patting the back of what he assumes to be a coworker as you make your way to the exit.

He tries to get past the people who surround him, but you're already gone. He's lost you again, all while you were right in front of him.

He goes home that night unable to sleep, eat, think. He blames himself, of course he does. It's his fault isn't it?

Somewhere during his night routine he thinks that there's an ounce of hope to fix this. 

He calls trent. 

“I don't know man.” Trent mumbles on the other end. 

“I gotta at least try right?” 

There's a beat of silence that lasts a moment too long, “if that's what you want.”

Jude thanks him for his time anyway. Tucking himself into bed. 

He scrolls through instagram on his burner account, finding your account again. The request button taunts him, but he knows you wont accept. Instead clicking on your profile picture, watching it take up his screen and he sighs. He really has to get his life together doesn't he.

—--

The next time Jude sees you is at an event. Black tie in a nearby hotel. He misses getting ready with you for these, with all your products and accessories lining his sink while he watched you fondly.

“Do I look okay?” you would ask each time, leaning a hand on the sink while the other smoothed down the creases on your dress. Doing a once over in his mirror.

He would hum softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “you look amazing.”

You'd blush, swatting him away playfully. Pressing a kiss to his cheek and promising to see him there.

The same mirror now stares back at him cooly. His sink is empty, as his house is. He misses the smell of your perfume, your clothes that littered his space. He misses how you made it a home.

He sees you there all the same, mingling with your coworkers. You look amazing, that hasn't changed. The dark circles under your eyes have, two purple half moons stamped rather aggressively on your skin. How long has it been since you got proper nights rest jeez.

He makes his rounds to everyone. Brand ambassadors, staff, teammates, a list of high profile people he doesn't care to repeat. He leaves your little corner last on purpose. He doesn't want anything to get in the way.

He slides over to where you hug a glass of water to your chest, nodding along to something a man in a blue suit is saying. Pfft blue what a rookie choice. Jude is in all black, did you notice? It was your favorite on him.

You did notice, and try to suppress the desire to hurl when he walks over to you. 

Jude gets to say no more than a sloppy greeting in Spanish before he's grabbed by the arm and taken back to where he thinks the owner of the hotel is standing.

You sigh in relief, and he sighs in frustration.

Fate has driven you apart once more it seems.

—--

Jude is a stubborn stubborn man. You can't seem to outrun him, no matter how many calls and texts you ignore, or block his accounts. Nor how you manage to slip out from right in front of him. Fate is on his side today it seems.

He shows up to your office, flowers in hand. Your favorite flowers, tied neatly with a ribbon of your favorite color, a card neatly tucked under the petals. 

Your coworkers are in uttersock, not even trying to hide their surprise as he marches over to your desk.

You type faster, ignoring him, or trying to. The gazes on you burn, almost as much as they did on the night he left you to rot. Why is he here?

“Hey,” he tries, meekly. He wants to punch himself in the face. Hey? Really? 

You don't look up from your monitor, opening more tabs, swiping your mouse against your desk furiously. You think the battery just fell out.

“Listen, I know I'm horrible, a piece of shit, the worst man alive, I don't deserve you in the slightless. But I love you.” he scrambled out in one breath.

You whip your head up at him,”love? You love me so much you took me to a club on valentines day?”

He winces, “it was so stupid. I'm so stupid. Please, let me make it up to you.” he pleads. 

You sigh, throwing your head back in your chair, rolling your eyes,”are you actually going to change Jude. Are you going to stop this nonsense and treat me like you actually mean what you say?”

“Yes,” he nods furiously, “I promise. Not a day will go by without me proving it to you, I swear.”

You look back at him. He's worn your favorite cologne, the sweater you used to always steal on cold nights. The flowers are beautiful. You missed him, you missed him so much, to the point that you're really considering it. 

Someone coughs in the cubicle next to you and you groan, gathering your things and hastily walking to the door, motioning for Jude to follow.

He looks like a newborn puppy, almost tripping on his feet while he follows you through hallways and corridors till you reach a stairwell you know for certain no one will walk through.

“Jude, I hope you know what you did broke me, it really broke me. I think you ruined my ego, permanently.”

He nods, leaning on the railing while he clutches the bouquet with so much force you're scared they're going to be wrung like a wet rag. 

“But,” you raise a finger to him, “ and this is a big big but, if you can prove these things instead of saying them, i'll consider giving you another proper chance okay?”

You see the tension visibly ease from his shoulders as he sighs softly, “Okay, yes, thank you. Thank you so much,” he brings the flowers forward, waiting for you to take them.

And you do, gently picking the note from the petals, you'll read this when you get home.

“I uh also, booked a dinner of your favorite place in a few days, in case you were willing to give me another chance i didn't want to mess it up again and if you don't have anything else going on and i just-” you take his hand in yours, stopping his ramblings effectively as he looks away. All of a sudden so shy as if you haven't stayed at his place for days at a time.

“I'll go Jude. I'm free, don't worry.”

“Great. 7 sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Ill see you then okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, soft and sweet.

With a smile you send him off, almost flying down the stairs in pure glee. You shake your head fondly, heading back to your work. The flowers weigh more than just their physical weight. The letters feel like a ton on its own.

You hope you made the right choice.

[nolongeronlyhereforthewhispangle]

Here we are, folks. After 5 years, Madness Combat 12 is finally out. Now, let’s deconstruct it.

Spoilers for MadCom 12 below (duh)

The opening. Now, there are some things I would like to highlight.

ONE: Nevada is labelled as “The Occurant”. This will be important later.

TWO: The text on the side.

“THE PLACE THAT WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE” “THE INFINITE ENTROPY AT ALL BORDERS TAX THE HIGHER POWERS THAT GOVERN IT”

Entropy means “lack of order or predictability”. The sheer amount of chaos is literally tearing reality apart.

I just like this shot. The depth in it, vast, but empty. Eerily beautiful.

“TRACKER DATA ACTIVE” “HANK.” “DISSONANT;” “0.01%”

On Doc’s computer. Why is 2BDamned doing this? We’ll find out soon enough. It should be noted that the “Dissonance Triggers” almost look like X, Y, and Z coordinates.

“HANK’S CHARTER HAS BEEN REVOKED” “Fix Nevada.” “DO NOT WAIVER”

A charter is defined as “a written grant by a country's legislative or sovereign power, by which a body such as a company, college, or city is founded and its rights and privileges defined.”

Perhaps the “charter” here is Hank’s soul? His being? We don’t know for sure.

Waiver means “refrain from applying or enforcing”.

The Auditor, in this scene, is basically saying “Hank is not active, and I need to make sure it stays that way.”

This graffiti probably means nothing, but I think it might be describing Sanford. So far, he has not died once in the entire series.

Agony. The text to the right mentions the Auditor, “recovery”, and “suppliment”. I have no idea what this could mean, maybe our red-and-black boy is trying to copy what 2BD does, but in the opposite direction?

Auditor, but without the fiery parts.

Mind fuckery. Note that he tries a “CONVERT”, as well as doing multipe return commands. It also points out, again, how Sanford is NOT DEAD, NOR HAS HE DIED BEFORE.

No hope for those trapped, I suppose.

This looks like the tree from MadCom 1. Nice callback.

I’ll let this speak for itself (refer back to TRACKER DATA ACTIVE).

The text says:

“KILL THEM”

And this is where we see Sanford lose his eyes, although he can still apparently see somehow.

A better look at Sanford overall. He still has that iconic lip, but he is missing parts of his body and his eyes to a mysterious black spot that also functions like a hole in some cases.

This is one of the defining moments of the episode (to me, at least). Sanford, seemingly overtaken by rage, randomly gains the strength to tear a half-MAG agent’s head off their body.

This might be just there for the cool factor, or maybe some other power acted on Sanford in that moment. With the info we have, we can’t really tell.

Here we see an anchor, like the one used on Dedmos in the Dedmos mini-series.

“Employic”, according to my research, is not a word in the English language.

Substrata is “an underlying layer or substance, in particular a layer of rock or soil beneath the surface of the ground.”

This purgatory is apparently underground, which would make sense given that we only see passages to it connected to walls or floors.

The Auditor looking shocked as he is trapped in a capsule of rock. With context clues, we could make a conclusion that this is the same type of “purgatory rock” that now makes up Deimos’s lower jaw.

Hank is connected to a machine.

Sanford has somehow been resurrected, even though he still HAS NOT BEEN KILLED.

The Auditor specifically calls out 2BD. He’s onto Doc’s shit.

Another picture of the tablet screen, shortly after Deimos drops it. We can be certain that “AUD” is referring to the Auditor.

Love wins. What else can I really mention if even Krinkels said it himself.

Deimos was “compensated”. Surprised anything still even has value around Nevada anymore. Maybe bullets do, actually.

Sanford has to return as soon as possible for a “deathless resurrection evaluation”. Wonder what that would even look like.

Hank’s icon, showing up for quite a short period of time before the screen fills with “ERROR” messages. He looks distressed.

Whatever could “OCCURANT LINES ARE CONVERGING” mean?

Well, we know that Nevada was labelled as “The Occurant” earlier.

(You might not be able to read this text in this screenshot with Tumblr image compression, I don’t know.)

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Finally, I have some info that isn’t necessarily what happened in the animation, but could help with understanding it. As this is already getting long enough, I’ll leave it with a short blurb.

The definition of the title word.

The description of the episode on the Newgrounds site.

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Even without looking at it in-depth, Madness Combat: Contravention was a masterpiece of animation. It was fluid, the characters were expressive, and the visuals were stunning. Big props to Krinkels, Cheshyre, Cturix (did the sound effects), and Tarkade (made the backgrounds) for creating the most entertaining 8 minutes of my life.

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Thoughts? Theories? Something I missed? Share it in the reblogs! After all, what is this fandom without the community we’ve formed!