#he will have you melt immediately to his precise firm touches!

[mrsoharaa]

˗ˏˋ ❥︎ Noo I can't stop thinking about the way Miguel would just nestle oh so comfortably at the foot of your couch, holds your right leg over his wide lap and gives you a soothing, perfect foot/leg rub/massage while you read your book (or try to at least- this man knows how to give really great foot/leg rubs/massages in general! so it makes it hard for your to fully concentrate on your book!). 🕷 ♡ ଓ ˎˊ˗

[anantaru]

DAY 31 — drunk sex

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — dan heng, jing yuan

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, drunk syx, nipple play, lots of teasing, clothed syx, messy making out, both parties are consenting

𖧡 — DAN HENG

your boyfriend dan heng was always beautiful— but to tell the truth, whenever he was magnified with a light shading of pink covering the expanse of his cheeks, it suited him very well. and it's hot when you close the distance between your frames, it's sweaty and you were aware that the obvious stickiness and mess in between your bodies pressed against each other, was greatly amplified by the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed earlier this night.

dan heng breathes out a shaky exhale when you both grind and fondle with your bodies, even though the alcohol was pumping steadily through your veins, making the experience a little different with the obvious smell of booze persisting inside the humid room— it's still so desperate though, and for some reason it almost felt like an aphrodisiac you had consumed earlier that made you be all over each other in such ways.

he grips your hips tight, fingers digging into the soft skin as he rolls his erection forward with one, fast snap, both groaning into each others mouth at the welcoming penetration— sweet and sinful desires churning inside your darkened eyes when he drives quick, shallow thrusts against your pussy, enough to drive you damn near insane. 

"you have no idea how much i needed that," dan heng admits as he murmurs between lingering kisses, smiling faintly against you as he notices a happy hum of a laugh vibrate through his darling lips, "i could barely wait— ah, to get out of there,"

and like muscle memory, he trails his length along the sweet spots of your cunt the moment you confess back to him— angling his hips so precisely so he'd stretch you out all open and nicely, dragging and conquering the sheer tightness of your walls.

𖧡 — JING YUAN

"one more, ‘more kisses," jing yuan slurrs his words into your neck before darting out his tongue to lick the flat of the wet muscle over the sensitive skin, gratified to feel your quickened pulse beneath his careless touch— and as a matter of fact, the general wasn't particularly someone who'd oftentimes drink alcohol, nor overdo it for that matter.

while tonight you had both decided to go out for a couple of drinks, nothing to celebrate, it all started as an innocent date— well, only to come stumbling home, wildly entangled falling against the mattress as you're making out with each other like two starved beings unable to be separated.

fierce need burns through his eyes when he laps from your collarbones to your tits, "look at me," jing yuan murmurs at you with one finger firm on your jaw to turn your face down on him playing with your mounds, your clouded, drunk expression greeting him immediately— on top of that, he leisurely rolls his clothed erection into your warmth before noticing how you're soaked, your face and body so hot that jing yuan got alarmed and worried you'd end up melting under him.

"i love you, jing yuan," you babble lowly, an involuntary tribute under your words while breathing hard, nearly destroyed by lust, trembling at the very edge and hoping he would touch you properly as you roll your hips up into his thudding groin— his mouth latching on to one nipple now when you bite back a whine, his sealed mouth choosing to wrap and suck on the sensitive skin.

"i love love love love you you," you bat your lashes all sweetly at him and oh, it's immediate, the effect of your words and showcase how very much jing yuan was adoring those high pitched noises slipping from the tip of your tongue right now, it's heavenly music to his ears whenever you were so vocal about the love you harbored for your boyfriend.

you hitch back a breather when he catches one peaked nipple with his wandering fingertips as he squeezes his erection against you harder, your heaves catching at the visible shudder of arousal crumbling against your wet panties, falling apart under him as you squeal within an airy laugh as he playfully bites down at one nipple, your needy cunt spasming around nothing.

"i love you too," he drawls back, eyes gently blinking up at you and feeling how you're sneakily pitching your hips up at him, your chest breathing and both whining slightly when he meets your shimmering eyes with his own handsome ones, "so, so much."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[deardjarin]

save a horse (ride a cowboy)

agent whiskey x f!reader

sometimes you get a little… jealous

words: 1.5k

warnings: smut, office sex, mentions of voyeurism

⋆⭑✦⭑⋆

You know your partner.

You know how he flirts with most people he meets, but you also know how he would never be unfaithful to you. But, you can’t help but get a bit jealous when you hear him tease other girls.

You checked in two women for a meeting with the Agent: an older lady and a young college student who both work for a private investigation company. You can hear the younger girl giggling through the glass door- giggling. You’re sure Whiskey is pulling his usual tricks to strike a deal with the ladies.

You find yourself gripping your pen harder than usual.

The meeting ends at precisely 4:35.

The women kindly bid their goodbye, but the younger’s face is bright red.

Frustrated, you input the time into your system.

You smooth out your pencil skirt and fix your hair when you stand up. The room is awfully quiet; you need a certain Statesman agent to break the silence.

The automatic door opens with a quiet swish, revealing Whiskey sitting behind his desk. He’s staring intently at his computer, most likely sending off emails to his fellow agents.

“Jack Daniels.”

Whiskey beams, leaning back in his office chair.

“Well hell-o little miss,” He drawls, slightly tilting his head to the side. He beckons you with one hand, and pats his thigh twice. “C’mere, sugar.”

You keep your gaze firm, even though you want to stumble over to him like a newborn deer and collapse in his arms. Your heels click softly on the polished hardwood as you approach him, and instead of slipping into his lap, you stand behind him. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you give him a little squeeze.

“Did you have a productive meeting?” You ask, kissing his cheek. A bit of stubble pokes your lips, but you don’t mind.

“I sure did,” He replies, smoothing the fabric of his pants.

You twist a lock of his dark hair between your fingers, and trail more kisses down the sharp line of his jaw. He exhales a shaky breath, tightening his grip on the arms of the chair.

“Were those girls nice, Agent?” You continue. Whiskey shifts in his seat, noticeably aroused.

“They sure were- sweetheart, may I ask why you’re interrogatin’ me right now?”

You hum, running your fingers over the knot of his tie.

“I’m sure if you’d given them the chance, they’d be all over you,” You comment. “I mean, who wouldn’t? That’s what happened with us.”

The corner of Whiskey’s mouth turns upwards.

“Is that what this is all about?” He asks.

You maneuver yourself around and slip onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs with yours. His calloused hands immediately fly to your waist, steadying you.

“Maybe,” You breathe, cupping his face in both of your hands.

“You and I both know that I’d never touch another woman as long as you’re with me,” He says. His fingers find their way under the hem of your pencil skirt, and his touch burns.

“That so?” You ask, trying not to melt at his words. He hums, turning his head to the side and kissing your palm.

“You gonna let me show you how much you mean to me?”

You nod, breathless, and kiss him.

His kisses are always sloppy, a little messy, but they’re so full of passion that you don’t mind. Accidentally, you knock his cowboy hat off of his head.

“Are-“ You whine when his lips meet your neck, mustache rubbing against your sensitive skin. “Are you going to lock the door?’

“Maybe I’ll keep it open,” Whiskey drawls between kisses. “I’m sure those girls would love to see you, squirmin’ like a bug on my lap. Or maybe that shy little intern- what was his name? Frankie? I see the way he looks at you when he brings up papers.”

You moan, grinding your clothed cunt against his thighs.

“Jack…”

You’ve given up on your original plan. Whenever his hands- oh, his hands, cup your ass, you lose any semblance of rational thought.

Whiskey pulls away, making sure you’re balanced, and fiddles with the top button of your blouse. You usually keep a few undone because Whiskey likes it, but it’s clear he wants to see a little more than what you’re showing.

“Just gorgeous,” He groans when he fiddles with the last button, leaving your stomach and bra exposed.

“C-Can you lock the door?” You ask bashfully, shivering when Whiskey’s fingers brush over the curves of your hips.

“‘Course,” He says. Wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you steady, he leans forward and logs on to his high tech computer. There’s a faint beeping sound from the keypad outside of the frosted glass door.

“Make me so fuckin’ hard, baby,” Whiskey groans, gripping your wrist and guiding your hand to his crotch. As expected, your hand brushes against the hard outline of his cock, trapped in the fabric of his jeans. “Feel that? S’all for you.”

A strangled moan falls from your lips, and you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Let me-“ You stop mid-thought and hastily undo the clasp of his belt. The metal clang interrupts the sound of your heavy breathing: the only sound in the office. Your hands shake as you fiddle with his zipper, and with a deep breath you pull out his cock from his boxers.

Whiskey moans deeply at your touch. He’s warm and hard and you want him inside you so bad.

“Stand up, baby, take off your skirt,” He orders. You can see him clench his jaw, most likely restraining himself from standing up and throwing you against the desk.

Your legs are shaky as you unzip the back of your skirt, pulling the black fabric downwards. Watching you with dark eyes, your partner slowly pumps his cock.

“Sit back down, princess,” He murmurs, patting his thigh with his free hand.

Damn straight, You think. I’m his princess.

“Jack, I- I want to feel you.”

You notice the way his dick has left a wet spot on his dress shirt- shit, now he’s going to have to go home and change, all because of you-

“Mm!” You exclaim when Whiskey’s rough fingers find themselves inside your panties, pressing against your swollen clit. You have to grip onto his broad shoulders while he massages your wet cunt.

You’re a little upset when he pulls his hand away.

“Soaked.”

You feel like the air gets knocked out of your chest when he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting you.

“So sweet,” He growls. “Sweet like a goddamn Georgia peach. Wish I could taste you all day.”

His words feel like they make your body temperature rise to a thousand.

“Whiskey,” You half scold, half moan.

“Fuckin’- wanna bend over the desk? Let me fuck you from behind?”

You shake your head, gripping onto the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.

“Let me ride you, Jack.”

Whiskey throws his head back and swears. You let out a breathy laugh; you, and only you, can have him wrapped around your finger.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want,” He blurts, cock twitching against his stomach. “You gonna ride this cowboy, sugar?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, and your thighs shake as you lift your core enough so he can slip inside you. Whiskey holds your panties to the side while he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. The two of you moan as you drop downwards, your ass pressing against his thighs.

“Shit,” He grunts through his teeth.

You take a moment to catch your breath before moving.

Jack keeps his hands on your waist, but leans forward to chase your lips. You cup his face in your hands, mindlessly kissing him while you move your hips. He fills you up so well, stretching and stuffing you in a way no one else can. You’re no stranger to this, in fact you’re quite skilled, but your legs still burn from the effort. It’s nothing compared to the way Whiskey’s cock slides in and out of you, though.

“Just like that,” He mumbles in between kisses.

You clench around him every time your clit brushes against his jeans. You’re sure Whiskey can feel it too; he squeezes his eyes shut each time it happens.

“S’good, sweetheart,” He praises. “Ready to cum?”

You shout in pleasure, nodding vigorously. His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing quick circles against you.

Your whole body shakes from your release.

It’s embarrassingly quick, but Jack keeps mumbling “that’s a good girl” in your ear. He continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppy and erratic.

You slump against his chest while he finishes deep inside you, hips stuttering against your skin.

“Ain’t never had a better girl than you,” He says softly, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. You smile; he always gets soft after he’s with you.

Before you can respond, the computer lights up.

Incoming Video Call: Agent Champagne

[sleepystarsong]

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧˚₊

Synopsis: Takes place between the scene switch in Zayne’s Heart String Healer tender moment. Zayne x Reader

Rated: Somewhat smutty & highly playful.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧˚₊

The students have yet to leave.

Their litany of hopeful outcomes with the esteemed Doctor Zayne fill the charged silence you flounder in.

You back away until Zayne’s face is no longer a smear of color, but a properly smoldering face.

Attempting to cool the mingling flames, you say, “well doctor Zanye, aren’t you curious how it tastes?”

He smirks, small by most standards, lips uneven under the crook of his nose. “Will Physician Quack tattle of I say no?”

You scoff. “I may be a quack, but even I know about patient confidentiality.”

Ah,” Zayne hums into your scalp, lips a sudden burst of affection. “Then I trust your professionalism during my appointment.”

Large hands guide skilled fingers to ease under your shirt and tease your bare sides.

“You trust too easily.” Your voice is a shaky breath, the stethoscope clattering to your lap, then to the floor.

Stiffening as the chatter outside hushes, you become more aware of where you are and what you’re doing just a door away from Zayne’s adoring public.

“No,” Zayne whispers against your brow, a blur once more, “I’m quite cautious. I cannot let you leave without signing a confidentiality agreement, for example.”

A sweet line of kisses trailed down your brow, then cheek. “With what pen,” you gasp as the gentle pressure circling your back catches at your bra strap, deft fingers unclasping without struggle as the students giggle by the door.

Your heart beats beyond the pace Zayne’s had moments before, embarrassed yet unable to flee from such a willing patient.

“How heartless, Doctor Quack. Shouldn’t you care for your ailing patient first?”

Zayne slides you fully into his lap, the cups of your bra loose and pressing against his chest.

“You seem rather lively,” you whisper. “I’ll check your temperature to make sure, though.”

Teasing and light, you rock above him, enjoying the hard line of his desire growing hotter underneath you.

You repeat the movement when he attempts to respond and he presses you firm and still. Despite his enflamed stare, Zayne’s tone is as light as yours , “then by all means, doctor.”

“Hmm,” you say, emphasizing your false pondering with a tapping finger to the chin. “I need a thermometer.”

Soon you’re brushing the seam of his lips and he obliges, allowing you to angle his chin up for a better look at his open mouth.

“Shall I suggest a suitable improvisation,” Zayne says, tongue darting to wet your thumb. “From one doctor to another?”

With a shake of your head you pinch his bottom lip. “No need. I already have the perfect substitute.”

Your mouth melts against his, flame against flame, tongue sweeping underneath his to take in the damp heat.

Of their own accord, your hips grind down once more, this time harsh and needy. You end the temperature check with a nibble to Zayne’s bottom lip.

The flickering hazel of his eyes and flush creeping down his neck illicit a fierce shiver down your back.

Or perhaps it’s the tickle of his fingers sweeping your spine, separating to grab hold of your hips once more.

“Well? Will I live, in your horribly unprofessional opinion?”

Cradling Zayne’s face, kissing the bridge of his nose, and relaxing as the conversation outside fans away and fades, you smile.

“It’s pretty dire,” you say. “We’ll have to take immediate action.”

“So that’s your prognosis.”

With patient precision, his belt comes undone under your touch. Then the buttons of his shirt. You rip the topmost button with a mischievous flourish.

“How do you feel about hospital gowns, Doctor Zayne?”

His pant is shallow and sharp as you take the firm weight of his desire into one hand, stroking up with a firm grip.

“Your bedside manner is improving, but I’m still wary.”

Wrist twisting as your stroke again, you tsk, “don’t be scared. This is the treatment plan you suggested, remember?”

Zayne’s answer is to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your thighs after helping to lift your hips.

“Then you won’t mind if I help myself to something sweet, since you’re forcing the patient to treat himself.”

Your back is against Zayne’s desk, jeans stuck around your calves as he ducks between them, nibbling down your thighs.

Flame to flame, indeed.

[bp-zb1fics]

Missing Park Hanbin hours😔 I’m Phanbin deprived😭😭 can you do highly suggestive cuddles with hanbin <3

Perfectionist

pairing: park hanbin x reader

genre: canon ish, fluff, suggestive themes

tw/tags: waking up, kisses, pet names, light banter, making out, kinda stripping, non explicit descriptions of intimacy, it gets real cheesy towards the end, lets have self confidence everybody, I’d like to go to sleep now too pls and thanks

wc: 677

summary: maybe you’re the reason hanbin’s so obsessed with perfection.

a/n it's quite overdue bc of things that have happened (I believe we are all aware) but i hope you enjoy this anon!

Check my pinned for more fics!!

“Jagiya~”

Hanbin watches as your face scrunches up a little, making a non-committal noise and trying to hide your face in his chest. He laughs a little, petting at your hair. You melt into his touch, not wanting to get up. He doesn’t either.

Perfect mornings start with you. 

Maybe his body aches from a late night of practice. Maybe his head is protesting just a little from a lack of sleep. Still, he likes seeing how you wake up, reluctantly opening your eyes and looking absolutely affronted by the idea that you’d have to leave the bed.

It’s adorable. You’re adorable. It might be him. But the way you groan and try your best to reach for every part of his body and stubbornly pretend you’re still asleep is the best thing he’s ever seen.

Hanbin, for most part, is a morning person. Or at least, he is when it comes to you. Because why be asleep when he can spend every waking moment with his favourite person? 

“Bin-ah?”

“Mmmm?”

“Stop thinking so much and go back to sleep.”

“And what if I don’t want to go to sleep?” He teases you in the sing-song voice that you don’t really appreciate at the moment.

“Then shut up and let me sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” God, now he’s whining. With much effort, you open your eyes and peek up at his stupid smiling face. Well that won’t do.

There’s exactly one way to make Park Hanbin shut up in this kind of situation.You take a mental survey. He did mention not having schedules today. You didn’t have anything on either. It all checked out.

You grab the front of his shirt to pull yourself up and kiss him. Immediately, he’s kissing back, the hand in your hair cradling the back of your head. He catches your bottom lip and something pleasant pops in your brain. Blindly, you reach over and nudge and perhaps shove a bit until you’re on top of him.

His hands are on your shoulders, sliding down your rib cage, gripping at your waist, roaming all over. They’re needy, pressing gently at your hips until they’re against his. He inhales sharply at the pressure, the friction as you swivel them a little. If waking up holding you got him a little firm, he was definitely aching for you now.

Fingers slip under your shirt to caress bare skin. You’re mouthing at his neck, nipping and running your tongue over what you know are his sensitive spots but you don’t leave marks. That’s for another day, when he has enough time for them to fade.

Hanbin has such precise control of his body until it comes to you. You who knows where to touch, where to be soft and when to be a little firmer. You can make his hips jump involuntarily, ripping out sharp inhales and sweet sighs, his hands develop a mind of its own around you. 

It’s dangerous. Hanbin’s a little obsessed. He’s a firm believer in practice. That the constant repetition and correction will condition the body to move closer and closer to perfection. No amount of practice can prepare him for the way you slip down, tugging at his shorts as you do. He can’t correct himself, only lay there helplessly as you take what you want, leaving him trembling and full to the brim with desire.

Nothing is more perfect than the faces you make when he pleases you, the noises that he pulls from your lips. He’s greedy, he’ll practise over and over and over again until you are shaking and shoving him off.

Perfect is lying with you, limp and maybe a little lightheaded. Chest heaving as you bully your way back into his arms, close your eyes and doze off. And suddenly going back to sleep  sounds like the best thing in the world. Because that’s the kind of power you have over him.

So who can blame Park Hanbin for being a perfectionist when he’s in love with the perfection that is you?

[idontblushsrry]

SFW Alphabet||Nanami Kento

A/N: A lil sumn sumn for the Nanami stans, yall have impeccable taste. I was gonna release an NSFW alphabet, but since this one was requested, I’ll post this first. Featuring a bit of rambling (srry I’ve got Nanami brainrot ig + I was tired writing some parts) as well as Gojo and Mahito slander!! 

Ft. a gender neutral reader

Word Count: 2888

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

First thing is, he’s not big on PDA, while he does give affection liberally, especially when it’s through his actions, Nanami prefers to keep his gestures of love private. In private however, he shows his affection in a myriad of ways. One of his favorites being helping you with your hair, the act not only makes him feel closer to you but it also allows for him to take care of you, one of his favorite things to do.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Nanami is definitely the best friend that is reliable. Sure he’s reliable as a friend, the two of you likely became friends initially due to this, but what makes you his best friend is returning that same energy. It’s draining to always be the one holding everything together, just once, Nanami would like to have a shoulder to lean on. Once you become that for him, it won’t be long before the two of you become best friends.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles with Nanami are so warm and safe regardless of if you’re the little spoon or not. His cuddles are also littered with kisses because when he’s tired, he gets a lot more open with his affection. He doesn’t usually talk when he cuddles but if he has a nightmare and you wake up to sooth him, the sound of your voice alone sets him at ease. 

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Nanami definitely wants to settle down. It’s canon that he’s only working so that he can make enough to retire early. If you’re the breadwinner, or even if he somehow makes enough to retire, he’s going into full house husband mode and no one can tell him otherwise. If it were up to him, he’d do all the cooking, cleaning, and home upkeep while you go out and work. But alas, life is cruel, and as such, he still enjoys cooking and cleaning but the chores are split between you two. Cooking however, is usually a team project, either the both of you make a meal and clean it together afterwards or one cooks and the other does the dishes, either way, it’s perfect for the two of you.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Nanami is at his core, a very mathematical and precise person. His cursed technique is literally a ratio, because of that, he prefers to breakup with people as cleanly as possible. His breakups tend to sound like they’re following a script because of how to the point he is. When breaking up with you, he just bluntly states that he doesn’t see your relationship as beneficial going forward. Literally the most neutral way to break up with someone, how you’d choose to take it though is up to you.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Nanami is the type of person to just elope or have a small ceremony between the two of you. He doesn’t care much for the paperwork or ceremonial side of it, and he is definitely the type of person who just says “You know we’re getting married someday right?”. From that point forward (if you’re ok with it) he’d basically introduce you as his spouse, when questioned though, he just goes “Ah, we’re not married yet.” He’s not shy about commitment though, his dream life is just living in the countryside with his spouse and maybe some animals, he’s a simple man. Not to say that he’s not going to officially propose though, because he will once he finds something good enough to propose with, it’s just that the two of you are “married” before actually being married.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Nanami is a gentle soul deep down. He cares about those he loves very deeply and would throw his life on the line to protect them. Emotionally, Nanami is always extremely respectful of your feelings. Even things as simple as ranting feel safe, almost like his very presence is cradling you. He’s also very open with you in return, despite his usual deadpan tone, he never hesitates to tell you of his thoughts and feelings once you both trust each other. Physically, Nanami is also extremely gentle. He loves to lavish you in soft touches and kisses. His most common spots for kisses are your nose and forehead. 

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Depending on your clumsiness, this may topple you, but Nanami likes to lean into you when giving hugs. His shoulders decompress ad he unconsciously just sinks into you without warning. Now if you’re prepared/ stable enough, you might stumble a little but overall you’ll be fine. If you’re clumsy or not expecting it... let’s hope that there’s something soft behind you because Nanami’s going down with you.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Nanami is very slow to say that he loves you. It’s not that he’s oblivious or doesn’t realize he loves you, once he realizes, he just accepts that as a fact. It’s simply that he gets wrapped up in his own head, worrying about if you love him too, if he’s being too forward, etc. If you confess first, he’ll have a much easier time admitting it (although he may not immediately respond with ‘I love you too’), but if you leave it up to him...you’ll be waiting a while.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

Pretty much all of Nanami’s jealousy comes from the beginning of your relationship when he was a lot more insecure about the place he had in your life. When he would get jealous, he’d just kind of stew in it. It was obvious though that he was jealous and pouting at you and whoever was making him jealous. Later on in your relationship though, he doesn’t get jealous, try as you might. He knows that he’s your partner (a fact that the both of you have affirmed thousands of times) and that no one will come between the two of you. 

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Nanami’s kisses are like melting butter, they’re so smooth and gradually they just get more intense until he pulls away and you’re left dizzy. He’s so firm with his kisses too, he always has to be touching you in some way. Whether it be holding your face or resting his hand against the small of your back, Nanami’s kisses may leave you weak in the knees, but he’ll catch you if you fall.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Nanami’s really good with children but in the dad way where you’ll come back and see him and the child both sitting on the couch watching TV. Not to say that he’s lazy with kids but he tends to just let the kid do whatever. If the kid wants Nanami to wear a tutu and do the chicken dance, why not? If the kid wants Nanami to list off animal facts while Nanami listens, sure. Hell, even if the kid just wants to use him as a tablet holder, he’s cool with that. He’s good with kids because he just lets them be kids.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Nanami depend on what the both of you have scheduled for the day. In Nanami’s perfect world, he’d spend the day relaxing with you at home, however, he understands that realistically the both of you have obligations. If it’s a work day for both of you, he’s made a small breakfast and something to drink. If it’s his day off, he spends a little more time laying in bed with you, enjoying the time before you have to leave. If the both of you have the day off, he spends a lot more time on breakfast (not including the extra time he’ll spend in bed with you), plating and serving you before himself and then listening to you talk about your day as he eats.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Contrary to popular belief, Nanami prefers to come home at a reasonable time and spend his nights with you. Honestly, he’d prefer to just live the house husband lifestyle, but hey, rent in Tokyo is expensive so he doesn’t mind if both of you are working. But because of the fact that he’s working, when he comes home, he sticks to a routine. Said routine consists of either cooking dinner together or ordering takeout, watching tv, and ending the night with cuddling. He’s a simple man, even if you don’t stick to the routine, as long as he gets to hold you when it comes time to sleep, he’s good.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It really depends; if you’re a jujutsu sorcerer or even just aware of the supernatural, you’d already either know or have a general idea of his abilities/the world he comes from. If you’re a non-jujutsu sorcerer however, Nanami gets kind of nervous because he doesn’t want you to think he’s crazy. Ideally, if you’re a non-sorcerer, he’d never tell you about that aspect of himself. It’s not like he doesn’t think you should know or even that he’s ashamed; it’s just that’s a chapter of his life that, unless relevant, he doesn’t think is important to know about. To him, it’s just a job, and he’d prefer if you thought of it that way too. 

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Nanami is very patient. Not to say that he doesn’t get angry or upset, or even that he’s slow to feel these emotions, it’s just that he knows when’s the best time to express certain feelings. Even if he’s upset with you, he’s unlikely to lash out in an argument, preferring to cool down and then come back to talk it out in a constructive manner.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Nanami is the most attentive boyfriend one could ever ask for. He remembers every small detail about you like it’s his full time job. He rarely gets the chance to show you all the little details he remembers about you, so he tends to do so in subtle (and practical) ways. For example, when shopping for furniture like dinnerware, he tends to get sets in colors that are either your favorite or that you picture in your “ideal” kitchen. However, when it comes to remembering details, nothing tops morning pre-work Nanami. He knows your morning routine like the back of his hand and he’ll have the coffee (or tea if coffee isn’t your thing) brewing before you can even wonder what’s for breakfast

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

One night, Nanami came home from work dead tired. It was a shitty day overall, filled with deadlines that were suddenly moved up with no warning. As a result, he ended up coming home later than he wanted to, the thought of you waiting for him when he got home carrying him through the last round of paperwork. Everything was dark, and he’d assumed you went to bed. Imagine his surprise when he comes across a bath that you prepared for him with foam, flower petals, fragrances, all the works (it was still somewhat warm so you must’ve done this on his way back). All alongside a note that said ‘If you’re reading this, I’m probably asleep. But you’ve been working hard, take a break and enjoy yourself, Love you Ken.’ After a long day, your note put the warmest smile onto his face. He still keeps the note tucked away neatly in a box with other memories of your relationship.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Aside from the obvious, because of course Nanami would want you to be safe from curses, he’s protective of you in terms of privacy. Sure, being private about his relationship with you means less curses that would know to use you as a weakness against him, but more importantly, Gojo. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the man, it’s just Gojo knows too much about him that could 1) embarrass him or 2) make you uncomfortable (Gojo’s personality isn’t for everyone.) If you already know/ know about Gojo however, any Gojo warding that you do will be greatly appreciated. If you manage to distract the sorcerer enough for Nanami to slip away, he’s forever grateful. Sure, Gojo gets pouty about Nanami’s avoidance but in his opinion, anyone who knew what he looked like in highschool needs to never speak with him again.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

If it wasn’t clear from the moment you started dating this man, Nanami doesn’t half ass relationships. The amount of effort he puts into spending time with you/ getting gifts for you ties back to his attentiveness mentioned earlier. Don’t even get him started on daily tasks because he loves doing small things for you to make your day easier. Even if your day is hard, he hopes that his small actions bring a smile to your face regardless. 

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

Nothing he’s the perfect man jkjk. In all seriousness though, Nanami has a tendency to come off as a “mother knows best type”. It’s never intentional and it usually comes from him just trying to help you, but at the end of the day, he has a bad habit of taking over different tasks/speaking over you. Sometimes it’s nice, like at restaurants, he’ll already know your order. Other times it’s overbearing, for example, if you buy something irresponsible, here comes captain Nanami to remind you about the importance of economic spending habits and if your purchase was really “necessary”. Like, love you but can you leave me alone.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s very concerned with his looks. Nanami believes in a standard of appearance that he has to uphold, as such, although his general outfit/styling choices may seem simple, he’s extremely meticulous when it comes to his looks. He’s not the type for anything flashy but best believe he’s not wearing a three piece suit and $400 watch without being impeccably groomed and styled beforehand.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, Nanami doesn’t feel incomplete without you. He understands that the both of you are adults who had lives prior to this relationship. Not only does he enjoy his alone time, he’s also used to being without you for extended periods of time due to his job. All in all, Nanami is a firm believer in the phrase “hate to see them go, but I love to watch them leave.”

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

He has a few exes, all of them relationships that consisted primarily of sex or they were long-term relationships that didn’t go anywhere. After a while, he just kinda threw himself into work, so you’re his first relationship in quite some time. His past partners don’t really factor into your relationship aside from general lessons that he would’ve learned anyway such as; compromise, the value of alone time, showing appreciation for one’s partner.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

In general, he hates Mahito There aren’t many qualities in a partner that Nanami dislikes that aren’t already expected in a relationship (ex. boundaries, healthy communication, etc.). Overall, he just wants someone that understands when to give him space and when to give him affection, find that balance, and you’re golden. In general though, Nanami’s not really the type to have a specific standard that he looks for in a partner, he does have a tendency to seek out calmer people.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Not necessarily a habit (although he did this a lot more before the two of you started dating) but Nanami is used to all-nighters, no surprise there. An unintended consequence of that is that once he goes to sleep, he’s going down for at least a day. When he knocks out, it’s the type of sleep that leaves you dazed and wondering if you time-traveled after waking up. When he finally does wake up, please bring this man food and water, he needs it.

[savemesomenachos]

So I was thinking about Bucky not being able to 'perform' because he's been stressed and preoccupied. And reader thinks it's their fault because Bucky doesn't address the situation. They eventually get him to talk and he tells them how he's feelings and then proves it's not reader's fault. Could just be fluffy or if you want to, include smut...works either way. Thank you 😘

This request is just 🤌🏽💋✨Have fun babe!!!

Not What It Seems

AN: This has been in my drafts for forever and I’m finally back to posting, so I’m excited

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: a few lines of smut, fluff and angst

TW: Mild panic attack - hyperventilation, Self-doubt

Word Count: 1853

18+, Minors DNI

Y/n’s POV:

“Are you serious?” Natasha asks, shifting in her seat at the end of the couch. She lowers the volume of the TV to a dull murmur and turns to face me. She throws her legs up and her cold toes nudge the side of my thighs as she settles in.

“Dead serious. It was just so weird,” I say, picking at the nail I’d been nervously chewing since last night. My eyes flit between my phone on the coffee table and my fidgety hands.

“Doesn’t sound like him,” she says, twisting the lid off her beer and tossing it on the table with deft fingers and precision.

My eyes follow its path through the air wordlessly, and I sigh tiredly. I fold my legs under my thighs and extend a hand in Natasha’s direction. She hands me the beer with a comforting smile.

“Babe,” she says, placing a warm hand on my knee. “Wanna tell me the whole thing?” she asks, her eyes softening at my look of despair at narrating the ‘incident’ again.

“Fine,” I sigh handing her the beer again. “From the beginning?” I ask, side-eyeing her.

“If you want,” she says, settling back into her seat, with sympathetic eyes.

*Flashback*

“I missed you so fucking much,” I moan as I strip Bucky off his gear. He nods enthusiastically and aids me in unbuckling his very complicated buckles.

He crashes his lips to mine and I melt in his arms. His arms hold my body tightly to his as he nudges me back on the bed. I fall backward as Bucky slips my jeans off and crawls over me and his lips touch every path of skin he uncovers while taking my clothes off. His fingers tweak my nipples harshly and my back arches of the bed.

“Buck, s’too sensitive,” I whimper, trying to sit up. With a firm hand on my chest, he pushes me down again.

“I need to be inside you, now!” he whimpers, wide-eyed. His eyes glaze over for a second and I snap out of my need-filled haze.

“Hey,” I say as my hand comes in contact with his tense shoulder. “You ok?”

“Fine,” he rasps before slipping his pants off completely. “Please.”

“Are you sure? We can stop-” I’m cut off by a needy kiss pressed against my lips and a fist tightening in my hair.

He slips his pants off completely to reveal his semi-hard member. His lube coated hand wraps around his member and I see the muscles in his hands strain as he strokes his length. My hand reaches forward of its own accord to assist him but he slaps it away. He crawls over me again and settles his arms on either side of my head. His member slides in back and forth motions against my tight hole and I whimper in anticipation. Slowly, he starts to push in with a hiss.

His thrusts drive sharp and hard but slow, almost teasing. My nails rake across his back and leave angry, red marks in its wake but that doesn’t deter him in the least. He redoubles his efforts with his hands gripping my waist so hard, they bruise. My gaze drifts from where our bodies are joined together to Bucky’s face. His eyes are screwed up in concentration with his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

My body starts to convulse as an orgasm shakes me to the core but Bucky doesn’t stop. His thrusts don’t slow until suddenly, I hear him grunting in frustration. Abruptly he pulls out and kneels on the bed in between my legs with sweat dripping down his forehead and his fists clench and unclench from where they rest on his thighs. I lean up on my elbows and my eyes rake over his body to look for signs of injury.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I ask, sitting up completely, my hand reaching out to touch his arm.

He flinches before my hand makes contact and I pause, my eyes wide. His eyes find mine but they look empty. He crawls off the bed and walks into the shower without another word. I bite my lip nervously, debating whether to join him but I finally decide against it.

*End of Flashback*

“Wow,” Natasha sighs, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I know,” I say, grabbing the beer out of her hand. She doesn’t fight it, deciding I need it more than her.

“You talk to him yet?”

“He’s always at missions Tasha. He hasn’t taken a break in forever and even when he is here, it’s like he’s not y’know?” I ask, taking a big swig before setting it down on the coffee table, the condensation leaving behind a ring of water.

“I think he’s gonna break up with me,” I say after a moment of silent contemplation. “I mean what else could it be? He’s never like this. I mean he doesn’t even sleep in our room anymore and I…” I trail off, tears forming in my eyes. My breath catches in my throat and Natasha shifts closer.

She wraps an arm around my shoulder and rubs my arm with calloused hands. I throw my arms around her waist and bury my tear soaked face in my chest.

“He loves you, I’m sure there’s a reason,” she says, rubbing comforting circles on my back.

“I don’t know, I just want him back,” I sob as my hands clutch her soft t-shirt.

“I know honey, I know,” She kisses my forehead and strokes my hair. Her body rocks me back and forth as my sobs start to subside.

“Y/n?” I hear a gruff voice whisper as a tall, hunched over figure steps into view.

I raised my hands to my face and harshly rub off any remnants of sadness and when my eyes finally adjust, I see Bucky standing a few feet away from the sofa with his hands wringing together nervously as his teeth sink into his lip, his eyes tearing a hole into me.

“Hey Buck. I didn’t know you were back,” I say, flashing him what I hope is a wide, excited smile as I get up off the couch and make my way toward him.

“I’ve been back for a while,” he says, his eyes flitting to Natasha’s for a second. What he sees there upsets him and his hand wraps around my wrist immediately. He starts to lead me away as I sputter protests and turn to look at Natasha for help. She shrugs in response and turns back to her beer.

Bucky takes us all the way to our shared room where he hasn’t slept in the past weeks and locks the door behind us. He drops my hand and paces the length of the room with his hands clutching his hair in a white-knuckled grasp.

“Bucky, is everything-”

“How could you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, turning to face me, his hands coming up to tightly grasp my shoulders.

“Y-You heard that?” I whisper, my gaze dropping to the floor.

“Super-soldier hearing. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard you say that you thought I was gonna break up with you so I stopped to listen,” he says, his hand squeezing my shoulders.

“I-I didn’t know what to think. You’ve been so distant the past few weeks so I thought…” I trailed off, hoping he would understand.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says, pulling me to sit on the bed next to him. His head leans forward to rest on my shoulder while his arm snakes around my waist and pulls me closer.

“Honey,” he says, his fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. “I’m not gonna break up with you.”

“Then why have you been acting so weird?” I ask, turning to face him, forcing him to look me in the eye.

“I fucked up on that mission,” he whispers, his gaze sullen, on the floor. “It was HYDRA and there were so many people. So many children. I couldn’t get them out. I couldn’t save them.”

Tears slide down his cheeks and pool on his lips. Before he could wipe them away, my fingers graze his cheek as I turn him to face me. I wipe away the tracks of tears and he leans forward to bury his face in my shoulder while wrapping his arms around my back.

“It’s ok baby. Let it out,” I say, rubbing circles on his back as his sobs intensify and soak my neck and shoulder. “You can’t save everyone Bucky. The important part is that you did your best.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” he shouts as his hands rake down my back and clench my t-shirt in between his fingers.

“I know it feels like that but you’re doing enough Bucky. You’ve been on missions non-stop, without any breaks and it’s enough,” I say, my hand drifting up to card through his hair as his sobs turn to sniffles and his breath comes out faster.

“It’s not enough, it’s not,” he begins to mumble under his breath as he begins to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey,” I say, dragging his attention to me by guiding his face to mine. “You’re enough, you hear me? I love you and you’re enough. Your friends love you and you’re enough. That will never change. I promise you,” I say, my eyes blazing. My hands grip either of his cheeks and I see the sadness and self-doubt swirling in his eyes.

“I love you Bucky. So fucking much,” I continue, his breathing starting to even out.

“Really?” he asks, sniffling, his hands coming to grip my waist.

“Yes, I do,” I say, my voice unwavering.

“I-I love you too,” he says, his eyes and nose red from all the crying. “I know I don’t say it often but I do.”

“I know honey. I know,” I say, drawing him for another hug. I whisper sweet nothings in his ear and rock us back and forth with Bucky desperately clutching at my t-shirt and his head nuzzled in my chest.

After a while, he pulls away with a small smile on his face and I take comfort in the face that he feels better.

“Better?” I ask, cradling his wet cheek in my palm.

“Yeah,” he whispers, leaning forward and planting a sweet kiss on my lips. Suddenly, his arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer and his lips press more firmly into mine. I squeak in surprise but moan at the relief of finally feeling him so close after a while. He pulls away leaving us both panting for air and rests his forehead against mine.

“What was that for?” I ask with a breathy chuckle.

“It was a ‘I love you’,” he whispers, smiling at the blush that covers my cheeks.

“You’re such a cheeseball when you want to be,” I say, bringing my hands up to hide my red face.

“You love it,” he says, cheekily.

“Yeah,” I whisper, placing a kiss on the tip of his scrunched up nose. “I do.”

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[bored-storyteller]

Hello! Thank you for your request!

I also proceed here with a list of the highlights I can imagine if you don't mind

55- Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x human!Reader headcanon, what would he say to Renji about you? (referred to this)

-Even if Uta is not a particularly talkative person, he has never found it difficult to speak, or to find words. He is neither shy nor closed type, he simply has an apparently calm character.

This time, however, he felt the butterflies in his stomach torment him more than they should. They fluttered so much that he believed he wouldn't even be able to swallow the hot coffee the silver-haired ghoul had just offered him. He didn't seem aware of the discomfort his ambiguous friend was feeling - and it was good, it would have been serious if Uta had become an open book.

"I got together with someone." His voice had slipped calm and usual, but his blood eyes dared not touch the face of the man not far away, concentrating rather on the tattooed fingers around the white cup "They are human."

He immediately drank some coffee, as if those words spoken in warm blood to ward off fear as quickly as possible had left him empty.

And the silence on the part of the other did not improve the situation. All business had ceased and the absence of customers created a silence that unexpectedly Uta felt as deafening.

With caution, his pupils rested furtively on his friend's face in the hope of understanding his thoughts, and he realized that his gaze was returned.

This time, their looking at each other had been a moment of real tension for Uta, and he had to work hard not to take his eyes off those eyes so clear in comparison to those he used to exhibit.

After long moments of silence, the surprise and disbelief were revealed by a few, simple words: "And they know they are with you?"

Uta's shoulders had slumped, and although it seemed to be due to the shock caused by the reaction, in reality everything he had felt was an immense relief. No one had mentioned the fact of your humanity.

-The next time it was Renji himself who pulled you into their speeches, almost as if at the time he had not recorded the confession of his friend, and disbelief had struck him in the moments following their meeting.

"Do you really have a partner?" He had asked him how he was challenging the truth about him.

At that point Uta had just bowed his head to the side, trying to be at least disappointed: "Really." He had replied without too many words. Of course, in truth even he, thinking about it, found it hard to believe.

"Do you really have a sentient partner?" Renji had therefore continued with that deep and serious voice of his, which despite showing detachment at the bottom had a good goal to hit. Uta's reliability was quite limited, as was the soundness of his thoughts.

"I would never hurt them." The mask maker had avoided any subtle jokes that would fit his nature and made the point clear without fuss. He knew he shouldn't have felt offended, but a part of him couldn't help but get irritated, perhaps because his distrust made him doubt that one day you might have the same thoughts too.

"Besides, they also know what I am, if you were wondering." The raven-haired man had added then, in his normal tranquility.

Renji had looked at him and Uta had understood that yes, that was what he wanted to know.

"All right." He had limited himself to saying, returning to focus on his affairs.

- Talking about you with Renji had been more complex than Uta hoped. It was important that at least he knew of your existence, but at the same time he was in a sense awed by his judgment. He didn't want him to raise doubts that he didn't have.

Still, this time he happened to mention you so naturally, simply commenting that you would probably like the coffee he made. Even though he didn't have the faculties to understand human tastes, he did have the faculties to understand you.

"Why do you like them so much?" Renji asked such unexpected questions without breaking his firm attitude in the least, and Uta inside himself was amazed every time.

Uta had not immediately known how to answer. He could have said many things, but all of them were too little to describe what he really felt.

At one point he had simply just shrugged his shoulders: "They are true." He had only said, staring at his friend.

It seemed there was no need to add anything else, Renji was also true like you. All it took was a simple nod of approval from him, and all the fear that he had entwined the tattooed ghoul's muscles melted away.

"And then ... I find them extremely cute." He had therefore allowed himself to add nonchalantly, just to return to the relaxed atmosphere he was looking for, while he absently stared at the coffee shelves.

"So I wonder how they can be with a liar like you." The taller man had asserted, while he was cleaning a cup behind the counter.

Uta drank all his coffee in one gulp, so as to be free to throw a joking look at his friend.

"Well, I'm cuter than you anyway."

- Even before he met you Renji knew he'd like you. He now he knew almost everything about you; he knew about your interests, your commitments, what you liked to read and what movies you watched. You weren't always at the center of the conversation but it seemed that Uta somehow wanted to put him apart from what was happening to him, to you. You were a human, Renji would have done the same.

No, Uta has never spoken of you with adoration or with excessive sweetness, yet it was precisely from those words so casual and lightly spoken that one could deduce how much he cared about you. He was a broken man, Renji believed he had known him when he was already broken, probably he was, but with you it seemed that that aspect was not so dangerous. He was fine like that, he couldn't help but be grateful if you managed to make Uta happy, and that's why when you arrived, you frail little human, he would know perfectly well how you liked coffee.

[belpheroo]

Title: All Yours Pairing: Mammon x f!MC Rating: 🍋 Summary: Takes place during Lessons 21-22 during the “aphrodisiac syrup” incident. Took most of Mammon’s dialogue straight from the lessons at first. PWP/PWF because I missed my baby Mammoney.

“I love you so much, ya know?“ Mammon said, no hesitation, no stammering, “So I really missed you after you left. Like, how could I not? And I just want you so bad I can’t take it… “

He sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair, a blush dark on his already warm skin.

“I’m goin’ insane here! Man, this is killin’ me! It’s killin’ me, but… still, that’s all right.”

Mammon took another deep breath, finally breaking eye contact as he huffed, “I’ll just deal with it.”

She could hardly speak, still processing everything he so easily confessed. Despite the slight raggedness in his breathing and the way he kept his hands firmly set against his hips, clenched tight, Mammon seemed almost unaffected by the aphrodisiac properties of the syrup. Aside from his loose tongue, that is.

Satan, Beel, Belphie, Asmo… even Levi and Lucifer had struggled to control themselves and were freed by the compulsion by an order. But Mammon? He was so composed… it should have been a relief, but despite the sweetness of his words and the earnestness in his voice, she found herself wishing he was more overcome.

Now was the time to issue an order, to end the aphrodisiac… but instead she hummed thoughtfully.

“What if I don’t want you to deal with it?”

Those words would have once gotten an immediate response from Mammon, but instead he curiously flicked a glance back over at her, expression carefully neutral.

“Or… like, deal with it in a more fun way?”

“Human, ya really don’t wanna push on this. I can control myself, but I’m still a guy! It’s not nice to tease me like that…” Mammon grumbled, redness blossoming across his cheeks in new vibrant shades.

“I could lose it. Like, really. Really. Ya got it?”

“Mammon.” She cut him off, taking a few steps forward. Mammon hesitantly stepped slightly back.

“What if I want you to?” She phrased her words carefully, keeping them sounding like questions rather than suggestions or commands less she end the effect prematurely.

“Want what?” Mammon countered, running out of space to keep retreating as she urged forward, prepared to trap him between herself and his bedroom wall if she needed.

“… what if I want you to lose control? What if I want you to touch me? To show me how much you love me? How much you missed me?” Her eyes flashed, dangerous and scheming and insatiable as she ran her tongue out along her bottom lip for the barest moment.

Mammon barely managed to catch himself mid lurch, nearly moving off the wall to catch that lip in between his teeth.

“W…why would ya say that?! Mannn… ya just like seein’ me get flustered! Well it won’t work! I ain’t some baby demon, I’m the second eldest!”

“Even Lucifer wanted me so badly he could barely keep his hands off me before it wore off.”

“…he?! He touch ya?! Ya didn’t kiss him did you?!”

“No, I only want to kiss you.”

Mammon groaned, running his hand over his neck and up into his hair, dragging his fingers through it with a look of utter agony.

“You gotta stop… you can’t keep sayin’ that. You can’t keep teasin’ me, please I-“

“Mammon.”

He stopped, looking at her from the corner of his eye, lids half closed and a blush so hot and vivid on his cheeks she could see it even beneath his warm brown skin.

It took only a few steps to close the distance between them, Mammon taking several back until he was against the wall with no chance of escape. He twisted his hands into fists and pressed them down at his sides again, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard and strained. She wanted to catch it with her lips, to kiss him beneath his jaw and against his throat… but she settled for something small first, barely letting her lips brush the corner of his mouth.

The heat coming off his body was scorching, the intensity enhanced by the sudden grip of his hands around her arms as Mammon shoved her away.

Her name dragged out of him, a desperate, pleading moan.

“Mammon…” she was careful, any order, any at all would take away this moment, make him shut up in his thoughts again instead of acting on his feeling. She slid her own hands up his arms, feeling the coil of muscle and the heat of his skin.

“I’m not teasing.”

The hands at her arms left but in an instant they were cupped beneath her jaw, guiding her around and switching their positions so she was up against the wall. Mammon crowded her into the smooth cool surface before he settled his lips over hers. Needful. Greedy.

The firm planes of his body pressed along her, drawing her focus to her breasts, her thighs and oh god— he slipped his knee between her legs, pressing up against her center with practiced precision before he rolled his hips forward. He growled, low in his throat and all at once she felt as if the strength had gone out of her legs and heat pooled with sudden intensity in her core.

Her breath gasped out as they parted, giving her precious moments to take in air before he dragged his tongue across her bottom lip and then licked into her mouth. Mammon had moved back off enough that her hands were able to find their way beneath his t-shirt, the fabric bunching up on top of her forearms as she dragged her palms down the taunt skin of his stomach. She let her nails barely scratch him, feeling his sharp intake of breath as he sucked in and away from the touch for a moment and then all but melted against her as her hands slipped across his sides and stroked up his back.

“Too many clothes.” She said between mouthfuls of his kisses, the words sending Mammon scrambling to tug off his jacket. His attempts to take off his shirt were blocked several times by her own touches, a giggle falling from her lips and spurring Mammon to smile just as he finally managed to tug the shirt off and over his head.

Her own followed, but his hands came up behind her back before she could start making work of the bra and with one skillful snap of his index and middle finger, she felt the clasps pop open. A blush spread fiercely over her cheeks at his—deftness. Realizing despite his tendency to run hot and cold, he had done this before. Frequently. Often. The implications made her heart hammer in her chest and for once, it was Mammon who smirked.

She made a faint sound of surprise as he bent down enough to pick her up, arms under her thighs as he bore her against the wall. It made her just a bit taller than him, which was well enough to her as she ran her fingers through the back of his hair and tugged him into another kiss. Her legs secured around his waist, feeling keenly now where he was hard and tented against his pants, rubbing against her inner thigh with panted breaths between each kiss.

His lips trailed down her throat, pressing to the center of her breast and then against the soft swell. She tangled her hands in his hair as he sucked a pert nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue against it over and over until she felt a shiver creep up her spine and shudder down to her core.

“Now, where should I go from here?” Mammon mumbled against her skin, giving the opposite breast the same attention until her legs trembled around his waist, struggling to keep herself up, “How about you tell me? What’s next…?”

Was he trying to entice her into giving him a command? He had give her nipple one last long lick before tilting his chin back to look up at her, blue eyes hazy but content, a dark flush deepening the color of his brown skin. No…Mammon was just— being Mammon. Eager to please and eager to keep touching her. And she was scarcely less eager to have him do just that.

“You have a bedroom…” she said, letting her hand come to rest against his cheek and stretching her thumb out to rub along his bottom lip. She hummed her approval when he opened his mouth and sucked the digit in. She withdrew her hand only to replace it with her lips, kissing him slower, more thoroughly, enticing the ember in his groin to flare up hotter until he was swiftly pulling her away from the wall and carrying her to the bed.

The red sheets were luxuriously soft against her bare back as Mammon bore her into the mattress. She relaxed her thighs slightly, but kept them pressed close to his hips all the same, stretching her arms above her head in a languid motion and arching her chest forward as Mammon kissed a trail from her jaw to the hollow of her hip.

Mammon found the hook and zipper of her skirt easily, undoing both before he slipped the fabric down and off, leaving her in nothing but her panties and knee highs. She rubbed her calf purposefully against his side, catching it on the hem of his jeans.

“Off.”

Mammon huffed, “Bossing The Mammon around? Fine… if you want me to so badly.”

“Yes.” She added, enjoying the way his blush had settled across his chest and neck. The sound of his belt buckle clicking sent a delicious pang of anticipation straight down to where she was already obscenely wet. She wondered if he could see it through her panties… most likely given how Mammon was taking the time to rake his gaze over ever inch of her, a strange expression passing over his face for a moment before he seemed to disregard whatever thought came into his head and work instead on getting his jeans and boxer-briefs off and out of the way.

He had absolutely nothing to be shy about.

She brought her hands to her hips, arching her bottom off the bed to pull down the dampened cotton, but Mammon’s hands stopped her. He took it upon himself to drag the fabric down over her thighs, admiring the curve of her legs and the way she wiggled impatiently as he finally slipped them off and over her ankles.

Mammon purposefully tossed them unto his jeans and she suddenly had a funny feeling that meant she wouldn’t be getting them back.

Mammon’s palms ran up along the length of her thighs, settling on her knees as he gently cupped his hands beneath them and slid her, smooth as silk over his sheets and towards him.

“…is this okay? Do… do you want this?”

With a faint smile, she canted her hips upwards, feeling the hot, iron-silk of his shaft against her core as she trapped him between his own stomach and her heat, rubbing against him with slow, intent motions.

Mammon made a sound like the air had been punched from him. She drew back just enough for him to use his thumb to press the tip of his head against her and then, gently she pushed forward again.

She went slowly. Enjoying the way her body stretched and fluttered around him, making space for him inside her. Mammon didn’t move, his eyes fixed, half lidded and dream like at where he was disappearing inside her. A tiny sound choked from his throat and his eyes fluttered shut when she seated him in fully, feeling a slight ache deep within her when his head pressed up against her cervex. She held there only for a moment before letting her hips draw back a ways, coaxing him with the tiniest roll of her hips.

Mammon moved then, shallow and deep and taking care not to press in too deep. The ridge of his head rubbed against a sweet spot every so often at this depth, making her clench involuntarily around him. His pelvis would press against her clit with each forward thrust, eliciting a content moan from her when he would hold there and grind against her.

Mammon cursed under his breath, leaning down into her waiting arms and capturing her lips in another kiss.

“It... it feels so fuckin’ good. You... “

His words cut off with a whimpered cry as she set her teeth deliberately into the long muscle of his neck, sucking there until his hips sputtered and his thrusts became faster for a moment. She gasped at the ache he had seared through her, worrying the skin with her tongue before placing kisses deep enough to bruise along his throat.

She dug her nails into his back and scratched down, the sound Mammon made as he arched against her touch deliciously obscene.

Mammon fisted his hand into the back of her hair, clinging for dear life as he slowed his moments and tried to even his breathing.

“…’most lost it…” he huffed after a moment, a sigh of relief turning into a groan as she bucked up beneath him.

“More,” She said, voice low and as dark as the pupils, blown-wide in her eyes, “Mammon, fuck me more.”

“And they call me a demon.” Mammon huffed, but he had begun to move again, the steady pull of his shaft along her walls making her tremble beneath him. Mammon smirked at that, easing his hand down between them and trailing his fingers over himself and her, touching where they were joined and bringing some of that wetness to swirl in leisurely circles around her bud.

His hand moved away, a protest in the back of her throat as he set his hands upon her hips and held her tightly, folding her upwards and keeping her firmly there.

He thrusted down sharply, the movement jolting through her and nearly slipping her away from him on the smoothness of the bed. She braced a hand back behind herself, gripping the sheets to try and keep still as he did it again.

She cried out then, startled at first until the sound melted into a whimper, mixing with the slap of his hips into hers once more as he kept up the unforgiving and unbearably deliberate pace.

Mammon’s breaths were coming as quick as gasps as gradually he quickened, the bruising impact of his hips mixing into the sweet bursts of pleasure each connection sent against her clit. So deeply seated in her, she could feel his head once again rubbing at the tender spot at the topmost part of her inner walls, barely able to contain her instinctive need to bare down on his shaft and hold him fast and tight.

His thrusts were growing shorter, faster, less forceful but no less intense as a prickling feeling began to grow in her core and spread out in tiny bursts, each stronger than the last until finally she felt them reach their utmost peak. The contractions of her orgasm were as tight as a fist and she could hear and see when she came as much as she felt it by Mammon’s reaction alone. His lips had fallen open, astounded with pleasure as he rode out each spasm, a ragged cry breaking from his throat. She felt his cock jump inside her, pulsing fiercely as he fell forward and buried his face into her neck, hands sliding up to hold her tightly to his chest as he shuddered and fell apart in her arms.

The come down was no less pleasant, her body still clutching at him, but in less frequent, softer bursts. She took the time to catch her breath, but found Mammon had not made to move, keeping her in a vice grip as he rubbed his lips back and forth against her neck.

He was trembling.

Affection burst through her chest, warming her like sunbeams through soft clouds as she did her best to soothe him. She ran her hands up and down his back, turning her cheek against his soft white hair.

“That was so good,” She whispered, “I missed you so much… you mean so much.”

The weight of him was pleasant, warming her down to her very heart. Mammon shifted a bit, leaning unto his side as he propped up on his arm to look down at her.

He looked so… vulnerable. Brittle. Like she had the power in that moment to utterly shatter him. She lifted up a hand to touch his cheek and he leaned into the touch, eyes closing.

“I love you.”

Mammon didn’t open his eyes, brow furrowing tightly. She was not having that.

“Look at me.”

He did.

“Mammon, I love you too. And I missed you and I want you all the time too and—“

“You’re killin’ me.” Mammon said making her freeze—but in the next breath he leaned down and caught her lips in a kiss filled with desperation and sheer adoration.

“I’m tryin’ to work up the courage to tell ya I love you so much right now I feel like my heart is gonna goddamn bust and you go and say all these… these nice things.”

“Not the only thing that busted.” She said, waggling an eyebrow until Mammon groaned.

“You deserve to be told nice things, Mammon. And often.”

He mumbled a non-reply, shyly enclosing her hand with his own and pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Might… take awhile. For me to get used to it.”

“That’s okay,” She said quietly, curling closer against him, “We have plenty of time now, yeah?”

That got a smile, pressed gently to her knuckles before Mammon released her hand to wrap his arms around her.

“All for myself?” He said, his touch becoming more certain— possessive.

“All yours,” she leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose, making Mammon pout and narrow his eyes briefly.

“Oh! You still need me to give you an order!”

“Um… about that. You already kinda did?” Mammon trailed off, fingers tangling in her hair gently.

“Wha— hey I was really careful! When did I give an order?!”

Mammon licked his bottom lip, a sly grin spreading over his features as he held to the back of her neck and whispered lowly, “‘Mammon, fuck me more.’”

There was a beat of silence as she blinked at him, cheeks growing rosy before she smiled in turn.

“Well?”

“Well what, human?”

The soft smile turned into a grin that Mammon, confident in her feelings, returned.

It was going to be a late night.

[kaepop-trash]

Going for one of those touchless car wash drive thrus and betting with johnny who can make the other cum faster 🙈

I’m hitting that area again where I hate everything I write. But my new year’s resolution was to not be stagnated by my need for perfection. So I am posting this. I hope you like it.

-

"Between this ice cream and my coffee," She snorted, the melting ice cream making her gurgle. "I'm going to be so jittery by the time we get home." She lifted her head to stop any ice cream from coming out of her mouth while she spoke.

Johnny laughed, resisting the urge to turn to look at her while he took a turn at an intersection. "Why did you get both?" He questioned. There was a pause, and the slowly moving traffic gave him the opportunity to turn to look at her. Ice cream on one corner of the mouth, she stared out of the windshield with deep contemplation.

"You know." She turned to look at Johnny, "I'm not so sure." She confessed.

Johnny bit back a smile.

"I just." She clicked her tongue, "The sign outside the ice cream store said labour weekend cherry, blueberry ice cream and you know how much I love cherries." Johnny gave her a nod that made her grin.

"But then you also got the piping hot coffee from the store beside it that is now getting cold." He looked towards the untouched cup that sat beside his half finished one in the cup holder.

She stared at the cup for a second, grinding her teeth. Then she shook her head, "It's fine." She reassured with an affirmative nod, taking a spoonful of her ice cream. "I can indulge in both." She mumbled with the spoon in her mouth. “If the coffee gets a little cold, it is what it is.” She shrugged.

Johnny gave her a soft chuckle, warmth spreading in his chest from the content smile on her face.

When they stopped at another light, a touch of cold against his lips made Johnny push back with a jerk. He turned to find her sticking her ice cream spoon close to his lips.

"Have some." She offered. She stuck the spoon closer, the cold ice cream rubbing off on his lip. She bit back a smile.

He parted his lips and licked the little bit off his lip before wrapping them around the spoon. When her exhale came out sharper than either of them anticipated, he turned to lock his eyes with her, smirking against the spoon. She dragged the spoon out, his bottom lip tugging against it.

"It's nice." Johnny mumbled. “I’ll just get the car washed and we’ll go home okay?” Johnny asked when he remembered the task he had set for today.

She turned back to her cup and hummed, the sound voicing her distraction clearly. Johnny grinned to himself.

"Another spoon?" She questioned and Johnny hummed, not looking away from the road. 

"Last one though." He tilted his head towards her a little as she reached out with a spoonful of ice cream. "We have to go to that office barbecue tonight and I don't want to get too comfortable. Once this long weekend is over, it's back to the gym." He sighed, taking a bite of the ice cream and humming pleasantly.

She chuckled, "It's good right?" Johnny nodded, a grin forming on his lips. "Don't worry about exercising now.” She groaned, “I'm the only one who sees you naked anyway." She scoffed, "I hope." She added the jab.

Johnny grinned at the road, "There's also the physician who does my annual physical. Need to keep her impressed." He teased. They finally drove into the carwash after making their way through the holiday traffic.

"Why? Did your firm stop giving you healthcare?" She raised a brow. 

Johnny laughed with raw delight, his eyes turning into upturned commas. "You know I always aim to please." He turned to her and winked. 

She scoffed with disbelief, "Where was this attitude when Haechan stayed over a few weeks back and you literally wouldn't let him sleep." She clicked her tongue.

Johnny opened his mouth in shock, trying to hold back a smile. "You're the one who can't keep quiet!" He protested. “I pleased you just fine.” He reminded her, "The poor guy had to go live with Mark because of just how pleased you were. Something Mark wasn't happy about I assure you." He said the words like he was talking about the weather, with conversational ease.

She gasped loudly, "I am not loud! You knew exactly what you were doing, Johnny Suh.” Johnny laughed as if to confirm her accusations.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He shrugged, reaching for his cup.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “Am I not with a man who enjoys being a whore with the possibility of spectators?” 

Johnny choked on his coffee, making her laugh. She also reached out to rub his back, with a wince and a mumbled apology when he kept coughing. He gave her a look that was somewhere between humour and defeat.

“Are you okay?” She tried to swallow her giggles unsuccessfully. “You know I’m right.” She added with a softer voice.

Johnny took a deep breath after his coughs subsided, letting out a short laugh. “You’re going to kill me, (Y/N).” He smiled, resting his head against his seat. 

The car in front of theirs finally moved inside for its wash to begin.

“I can’t believe you called me a whore.” Johnny chuckled.

“I believe you’ve called me worse.” She reminded him.

Johnny shrugged, “That’s fair. And I guess I am your whore, so it’s not untrue.” He smirked.

She hummed, “Good boy.” The look he gave her made her curl her lips and her toes together.

She turned away from his sudden charged gaze, “This is going to take forever, Johnny. I want to go home and take a nap.” She whined.

“Your nap can wait.” He responded, his brows creasing when he realised something, “You woke up at noon, why do you want a nap?” He sat back in his seat and raised a brow at her.

“Do I?” She rubbed her cheeks against palm.

She shrugged, finally finishing her ice cream and reaching for her coffee. “Why not?” She made a face at the cup, the now room temperature coffee tasting borderline unpleasant. “Your office parties always go on too long and your boss always refuses to let you leave. I’m using this week to catch up on sleep so don’t question it.” She grumbled, a soft pout forming on her face. She stretched in her seat like the conversation reminded her that she was tired, yawning softly. The action illiciting affection in him.

Johnny gave her a tender stare, “We always leave any social gathering the moment your battery runs out.” He reminded her, reaching out to stroke her hair. “You even have a signal.” He smiled when she nuzzled into his touch.

Johnny hummed and nodded, “You tug on my sleeve and sit against me.” He laughed softly, remembering all the times it happened. “It’s very cute.”

She gave him a cheeky grin, “I am adorable, yes.” 

Johnny laughed. When their car finally moved towards the wash she let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m hungry.” She mumbled, reaching up to tug at his fingers and play with them mindlessly as she turned to frown at the slowly proceeding queue.

“You’re a lot of things today, it seems.” Johnny pestered.

She turned to him with another pout, “Don’t sass me.” She scolded him with a finger pointed at his chest. She let go of his hand, making him pout this time from disappointment. She sat up in her seat with new-found energy, “You know that fish we had last month? With lemon preserve I think?” Johnny nodded, remembering the anniversary dinner well, every part of it. “I’m craving it so bad!” She whined again. 

Johnny bit his lips as the spray of soap covered the car in spuds.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He whispered slowly, the low rumble of his voice making heat pool in her stomach— a conditioned response.

“What?” Her voice dropped in its volume too, turning to his indulgent smirk.

“Come here.” He spread his legs wider on the seat.

She groaned, the sound one of defeat. Sitting up, she gingerly moved across to do what he asked. “Whore.” She mumbled.

“Johnny.” She wanted her voice to sound like a warning, but the breathless hush that came out instead did everything but mediate the tension building in the car. 

It was truly hard to resist him.

Johnny hummed, “The one who cums first buys lunch alright? If you win we can get the fish. If I win, I'm craving a good burger.” She nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he ran his fingers through his hair. “We have to be fast though, princess.” A soft laugh left him as she nodded dutifully, reaching out to undo his pants. “They might ban me from getting my car washed here if we get caught and the other place ruined the car’s paint the one time I went there.” Johnny’s head fell back when she grabbed his shaft, a groan dissolving the last of his words.

“Stop talking about your car.” She huffed, “I thought you were in a hurry.” She tilted his head back with her other hand in his hair, reaching down to kiss his jaw.

“Take off your shorts.” He tugged on the band with a finger.

She smiled against his neck, “This is a competition, baby.” She cooed. “What makes you think I’m going to make this easier for you? Work with what you have, Johnny.”

“Such a wretched girl,” Johnny huffed. “Fine.” Johnny groaned, dragging his finger to the buttons of her shorts and flicking it open, “I’m perfectly capable of doing this with a hand.” It was a challenge, his eyes oozed it as he kept them focused on her eyes and put two fingers into his mouth. He licked them with precision, the other on her back pulled her closer. 

She bit down on her lip, clenching around nothing. “I would have done that for you.” She licked her lips. Johnny smiled, popping the fingers out of his mouth.

He was, without a shadow of a doubt, right about his single hand being very capable; but she wasn’t in the mood to lose. She gripped him tight and Johnny winced, bucking up from the seat. In retaliation, Johnny took the liberty of plunging two fingers deep inside her. Her legs twitched, a loud groan leaving her lips. She increased her pace immediately, the car filling with sounds that made her blush.

“Shit.” Johnny breathed out. “Look at how you’re clenching around me, (Y/N). Reminds me of the first time I fucked you with my fingers.” He hummed against her forehead. She mewled at the memory, clenching tighter around his fingers. “I was already whipped for you then.” He sighed when she rubbed circles on his tip.

“Fuck.” She breathed out, his words seemingly more effective than his masterful fingers. She did remember that time, almost too well. The memory of the humid car and the tropical heat making her hips buck. Johnny let out a victorious chuckle.

She bit down on his ear, making him twitch in her hand as she expected. “Come one, Johnny.” She urged with a delicate whisper, “Don’t hold back.” She winced when he curled his fingers inside her as punishment for her coaxing. She kept up her persistence anyway, “You’re the one who loves this don’t you? Knowing someone can catch us like this any moment.” She poked her tongue out, leaving a kitten lick on the shell of his ear. Johnny groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her chest and making her certain that she would either lose the bet or go insane trying to win.

“Yes.” Johnny confessed. She shivered at the ease he did it with.

“What is it about it?” She questioned. The car moved forward to get washed down— the last step of the process. The sudden jerk forward made her chest slam into his. His fingers pushed further in at the jerk, making her moan loudly.

She took a deep breath, “Do you want people to watch? Want them to see what you do to me?” She hummed, the words forced through her teeth.

Johnny put his head against the seat, a sigh leaving his lips. Moment’s later she felt his release coat her fingers, looking down with a victorious smile.

“If you cum now, I’ll let you fuck me tonight."

"Shit." Johnny groaned at her words.

"Surely make a party with finance people more fun, huh?” She giggled. She was pumping him so fast now that his own fingers faltered inside her, something she would have complained about if she wasn’t so focused on winning the bet this time.

“That was cheating.” He groaned, she looked back up at his devastatingly handsome face, laced in the aftermath of her work. He took shallow breaths, lips parted and one eye looking at her.

“That was negotiating.” She leaned forward to peck his lips, pulling back to take in the fucked out look on his face. He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, a soft mewl leaving her lips from the sudden emptiness.

“You don’t deserve to cum for being conniving.” He was still panting, pulling her closer to kiss her. She whined against his lips at the punishment, smacking his chest when she pushed back. “We’re also out of time.” He whispered against her lips. On cue the loud buzz sounded, signalling the end of the wash.

“Fine.” She sighed, pulling off his body and sitting back on the passenger’s seat. She turned to look at him, making sure his eyes were on her, then she licked her fingers clean of his release with lazy precision.

“Fuck.” The word stuttered out of his lips as he tucked himself back into his jeans.

“I told you I was hungry.” She hummed against her fingers.

“You’re making it real tough to think about lunch when you do that.” He mumbled.

“Good.” She gave him an innocent smile, “Let’s go, we’re done.” She pointed at the now visible street at the end of the wash. “I earned that fish.”

-

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

[nanengko]

𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘿𝙊 —

iwaizumi x f!reader

notes: one-shot about iwa taking care of his touch-starved s/o in a way he knows best

genre: smut; fluff

content: iwaizumi hajime; f!reader; post time-skip; female masturbation; sugar-coated degradation; size kink; orgasm denial; praise; creampie; established relationship

words: 1.8k+

Times are busier, and finding the opportunities for intimacy grows more difficult by the day— schedules never seeming to match-up or other plans always interfering. Those quick morning kisses and rushed hugs goodbye that you wish could last a little longer has you starving for Iwaizumi’s touch and attention. You understand the amount of time he needs to commit to his job and you respect that, but god do you miss him.

Taking matters into your own hands doesn't seem to do the trick anymore, especially when you've already been spoiled by him—fingers can't quite reach or stretch you out the way his so effortlessly do. Remembering the way his precise tongue works through you so good, and the way his cock can turn you into a fucked-out mess has you lost in your filthy sweet thoughts.

He doesn't even need to try, his touch always seems to put you at his mercy—so receptive, so willing, so ready to receive what he has to give.

You let your imagination run wild, thoughts filling with your Hajime—the way his rough hands feel squeezing at your supple flesh and the way you would melt when he places open-mouthed kisses along your neck. For now, just this will do, you repeatedly tell yourself this despite your growing need.

You lay yourself face-down on his side of the bed, burying your face into his pillow with a soft inhale. An intoxicating scent that’s all him further fuelling your imagination, and causing a soft whine to leave your parted lips.

Your thoughts continue to wander, raw and untamed. You can’t help but slide a hand down and past the waistband of your underwear before discarding them onto the floor, folds already slick as you begin to slide a tentative finger through.

You push two lithe fingers inside, earning yourself a sharp intake of breath—good, but not good enough. Pretending he’s here with you and that it's his expert fingers instead of yours—just this will do. You continue at a lazy pace, more so enjoying the works of your imagination than the workings of your fingers, it wasn’t his after all.

“Seems like you’re busy.” You hear his gruff voice coming from somewhere behind you and you’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts.

He was somehow able to sneak behind, you being too occupied to even hear him come through the front door. Oh, but what a sight to be greeted with—on all fours, ass propped up with fingers buried deep inside. He can’t help but watch for a few moments, frozen in place, pants tightening at the image presented to him; it’s been way too long.

“H-Hajime?” Surprise mixed with some embarrassment seeping into your voice.

Fingers are pulled out and you scramble to sit upright, immediately clamping your legs shut, and using your arms to wrap around your knees. You don’t know why you’re acting as if he’s never seen you like this before. He’s seen all of you, and in positions more embarrassing than this.

You stare wide-eyed at him and he looks back, hooded eyes freely roaming over your naked lower half. “Work was cut short, so I’m here.” Iwaizumi says quietly as he walks over towards you, stopping at the foot of the bed.

Your arms drop from around your legs and you relax. You flash a soft smile, embarrassment disappearing, and once again replaced with the need and desperation from earlier.

He places one knee onto the bed, the mattress dipping underneath his weight when he leans over you. Strong hands find their way to your knees, pushing them apart. He takes two fingers and drags them between your glistening folds before holding them up, rubbing his fingers together, and inspecting closely as your slick webs when he pulls them apart. Your body jerks at the contact and you’d be lying if you said you didn't love how his hand looked right now.

“Is this what happens when I don’t get to touch you? Craving for some of my attention now, aren’t we?” He gestures to his fingers while looking down at you and smirking.

"Uh—I—," you're at a loss for words, so enamoured by him. The only thing on your mind is how good he looks looming over, large body and handsome features, and with you coated all over his fingers.

"Hm? What was that?" His head tilts, amusement clearly written all over his face.

You want him to touch you, you want him to at least do something. A whispered "please" falls through your lips and you take his hand and guide it back to where you want him most. His features soften momentarily, and he watches your pleading eyes. How can he ever say no to that?

He lets out a defeated sigh, "Alright, pretty girl."

Iwaizumi settles in behind, and you crawl into place between his legs. He pulls you in close before sliding his hands behind your thighs, pulling them wide. Leaning back onto his hard chest and caged between his strong biceps has you so enticed. You relax against his touch, finally he was here and so close to giving what you’ve waited so long for.

He takes his time as he caresses at your thighs, squeezing firmly as he makes his way down, feather light tingles shooting straight to your cunt. He doesn’t stop until thick fingertips brush against your outer lips. You let a whimper escape, your own hands gripping at his muscled thighs and holding tight.

“Someone’s a needy little slut.” He tells you this as he spreads you apart with two fingers on either side; a quiet squelch softly fills the room.

Despite his harsh words and gruff demeanor, the slight shake in his voice and the sudden hitch in his breath lets you know that he's missed this too. His cock pressing heavily through his pants and onto your back is also more than enough proof of that.

You let a moan escape as you feel him press two fingers against your clenching hole, applying enough pressure to have him sink in all the way.

This is what you've been waiting for—for him to take care of you just like this. You let your head roll to the side as he slowly starts to finger-fuck you, taking his sweet time pressing against your walls in a way only he knows best.

Quiet whimpers fill the room and you let out a long breath, "Missed you so so much."

He lets out a low chuckle and the feeling of his chest vibrating against your back has you pressing further against him. 

“I don’t touch you for a bit and you turn into such a cock-hungry whore.” He emphasizes his point by circling your clit with an index finger, the pace of his other hand quickening into you.

A soft kiss is placed to the top of your head as a means of softening the blow of his earlier words. Despite that, it was very true, you’re hungry—no, you’re starving.

You feel yourself clenching down hard. Just a little bit more and he would give you what you’ve been wishing for. The way his fingers are perfectly curling into you has you rolling your eyes back, desperately moaning and begging to make you cum.

You feel yourself tipping at the edge, “So close, so close.” You chant out quietly, that tantalizing feeling—so warm and so inviting.

You’re suddenly met with emptiness as he pulls his fingers out of you, a string of your arousal following and dropping against your thigh; you’re clenching down, beckoning to be filled. Eyes shoot open and you turn and stare up at him.

“What’s with that face? The only thing you’re gonna be screaming on today is my cock.” 

He shifts behind you to stand up off the bed, the familiar clang of metal from the unfastening of his belt ringing throughout the room, breaking you free from your daze and signalling you to remove your sweatshirt. You carelessly throw it onto the floor to join the rest of the pile.

He’s back, and hovering over you, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist when he starts to line his dripping cock-head at your entrance.

He lets out a hiss and rubs his swollen tip at your greedy hole before pushing himself in, “S-shit.”

“A-ah!” His size causing the initial burn as you feel him all the way inside, burying himself into you at the hilt.

He leaves himself there for a short moment, paying mind to your comfort, and begins to set a slow pace, savouring all that you are and all that he’s missed.

Through a half-lidded gaze, you look up at him, admiring him as he works his way into you over and over; brows furrowed, eyes dark, breathless groans coming through slightly parted lips, tense muscles, and a small bead of sweat gathering at his temple. 

Your hands grip at his biceps as he comes down to meet your lips with his, an unspoken apology for the attention he has been unable to give; you readily accept, drowning in the bliss.

Foreheads pressing together, you feel him adjust and pick up the pace, your grip on him tightens, fingertips digging into the firm muscle. He’s doing it so perfectly, just like always, but with a tinge of desperation that you completely understand.

He’s going harder and faster, trying to chase what’s long overdue, and with all the intention to bring the both of you up together. Both his hands move to cradle your head into his hands, carefully gazing down and whispering sweet words of praise and adoration.

“I’ve waited so long to feel you and see you so pretty like this, but I’m here now, I’m here.” His words are so loving and soft. Times of vulnerability like this are rare for him, so you cherish every last bit that you can.

You feel the warm steady build from deep within and you can tell by slight stutter in his hips that he's close too. You’re panting out and all you need is just a little push.

A single thrust is all it takes and his mouth is on yours, turning your screams into muffled moans. Your own high and fluttering walls coaxing him into his own, emptying himself into you.

Both breathless and tired, yet satisfied and feeling so alive. He collapses on top of you, still buried inside with cum leaking out and down your thighs. 

“Missed you, missed this.” He rolls over, cock slipping out, and he pulls you closer to him.

You nuzzle into his warmth, paying no mind to the stickiness of your bodies or the mess between your legs because he's here now and that’s all that matters. Laying with each other in the most intimate way as he runs strong hands over your skin, soothing you into his touch and conveying the unspoken words of his affection—just this will do.

if you enjoyed, a like/reblog is appreciated !

© nanengko — DO NOT alter/edit/plagiarize my works or re-post/distribute works on other platforms (tiktok, wattpad, etc.)

[sometimesiwrite]

In Your Arms, In Your Mind

Helloooo friends! ‘Tis I coming to you with ANOTHER collab with Erica @pressedinthepages. This time, we were inspired by Eskel’s face in this stunning work  by @journeythroughunknownlands. Thank you for this incredible piece!  Pairing: Eskel x gender-neutral reader

Summary: The trek to Kaer Morhen is a long one with few opportunities for lovers to indulge in one another. When opportunity presents itself in the warm safety of the long-awaited keep, things get spicy. When Eskel worries he’s indulged too much, you’re there to bring him back with gentle reassurance.

Warnings: Smut, related bruising, concern/comfort Check out MY MASTERLIST HERE Check out ERICA’S MASTERLIST HERE

Enjoy!

The golden sun of late afternoon—soon to be setting behind the peaks of the Blue Mountains—streams past the heavy curtains flanking the ancient window of Eskel’s room in Kaer Morhen. The keep is shrouded in a muted, patient silence awaiting the arrival of Eskel’s brothers and their traveling companions for the winter months. Distant sounds of masonry work suggest that Vesemir is diligently working on the near-lost cause of the outer wall. Eskel should be helping. Instead, he’s doing his fair share to contribute to the more immediate sounds of lovemaking that threaten to fill the entire dormitory wing if this keeps up.

It started innocently enough—a hot meal after the final trek up the mountain, then a hot bath while the fire warmed the chilly walls of the room. But your lips were especially luxurious against his, and hands soon found freshly-bathed skin far too enticing to leave un-appreciated. It had been a long journey, and with the cold weather only growing colder, it was no longer the season for starlit lovemaking. So when two lovers arrive at their destination, skin starved of hands and hands of skin, what else is there to do but make love with abandon?

Flecks of dust dance through the beams of sunlight as Eskel gasps up at you, hips rocking with sinful indulgence in rhythm with you, the glide of his girth a blessed, aching punishment for being the miracle that you are. You feel his fingers dimple the soft flesh of your hips and you know he’s relishing the give of you under his hands. You’re only about halfway to as good as it can be and he’s not stopping anytime soon. It’s been too long. Too long without the taste of you, the smell of you, the sight of you—and Gods if you aren’t the most beautiful thing. The sun has shifted, casting an oblique ray across your body, accentuating the graceful, rolling countryside of your torso as it shifts and flexes, guiding his movement within you.

You roll your hips just so and sound escapes Eskel’s body, cut off by another puff of air as his head falls back, barely able to wrap his head around the reality of you. On top of him. Feeling this good. He brings a hand ‘round the back of your neck and pulls you down, brushing his lips over yours as you surround him, and your breath is hot and wet on his face when you let out a moan and slow your rhythm with the new angle. Your bodies adjust as you continue to roll and glide, new sensations blooming to the surface of your walls.

“Gods,” Eskel breathes, wrapping his arms all the way around your back, pressing your bodies closer, determined to feel as much of you around as much of him as possible. “Ho-oh, how’re you so good to me.”

“Because you’re too good to me,” you whisper, and Eskel lets out a throaty groan as he thrusts up and forward, an edge of hungry desperation colouring his reverence. You let out a gasp and try to speak—fuck-shit-oh-gods it’s so good—but your breath is gone. You can barely locate any part of you in relation to anything else: not your hands, not your stomach, not your thoughts. The only thing you can place is Eskel, everywhere. In you, on you, under you. Hitting something deep and devastating as he grits his teeth, holding himself together as your lungs disintegrate and float away like paper confetti.

Even in this position of relative power, you are rendered completely at Eskel’s sweet mercy as he holds you tightly, feeling you completely, vulnerable and exposed to the relentless pleasure currently overwhelming you. But Eskel knows you’ve adjusted to him now. He can tell that there’s more depth for him to find, but it won’t happen from down here. So he slows a little and shifts so expertly, you can’t imagine how he managed it. But the room turns and now you’re below him. Looking up into his eyes as they shimmer with the sunlight still streaming through the window beside you. He’s breathing heavily, and his body is tight with concentration and the effort of control. He wants you, you can see it in his eyes and the way they darken again as he begins to press deeper.

You let out an indulgent whimper and he feels the strings holding him together begin to snap.

But he knows that taking you now for everything you can give him—with everything he has—won’t produce the earth-shattering results he’s been longing to hear tear from your body for the last two weeks. He redirects his impulses, intensifies everything he can and diffuses the rest, pressing, dragging, every muscle in his body refocused for endurance and precision rather than power and speed. 

You feel his hands start to tingle on your hips, and your skin calls to him, begging for everything he has, but he tries not to listen too carefully. His mouth, open and gasping, drags over every piece of you he can reach, breathing you into his lungs. His hips jerk as he loses the thread briefly, your breathless moan nearly enough to send him over the edge—and he's dangerously close. Eskel fits the slope of his nose right into the crook of your neck and he feels you start to finally, blissfully, completely meld with him.

His weight rests on top of you as he continues to roll, rippling across the surface of you as he glides effortlessly through your wet heat. Your gasps become more desperate, pulling high in your chest and he feels the texture of you change—now firmer, even deeper than you were just moments ago. He can smell your approaching orgasm and he lets out something guttural, half-growl, half-moan at the responsiveness of your body to his. He feels a shift inside him, too. 

Eskel’s pace increases as he chases your release with the search for his own and he's lost in you, wandering senselessly through the melted solder of his mind. He can’t find it in himself to worry. He holds tight, feeling the strands snap one after another, his ears aching to hear you shatter beneath him as he begins to thrust harder, faster, with wicked precision that sends a flare of heat down the backs of your arms as you feel the wave begin to crest

You arch into him, his chest pushing firm against yours as the world brightens and then—goes black. Everything falls away, leaving you raw and exposed to the man above you and you’re still so impossibly full with him, even as he threatens to fall apart himself. You keen and whine against Eskel’s neck and he clutches you tightly, one hand fisted in your hair, the other more than likely leaving bruises on your flank as he tries to bury himself under your skin—weeks spent together but not nearly close enough finally made up for.

The sounds of your approaching climax have Eskel fraying at the seams, desperately trying to hold himself together so that he can come with you—a shout into the crook of your shoulder as his thrusts turn erratic, and you feel yourself clench around him in a way you haven’t before, holding him tight as he buries deep and spills. And gods, you can feel the texture change in you as he drips, thick and warm along your walls and around him. 

Your breath comes in hot whispers against the pretty pink flush of Eskel’s neck, and when the world finally filters back into Eskel’s mind, and he is painfully aware of how tight he is still gripping you. He can feel the blood flowing under the pads of his fingers, under your soon-to-be bruised skin. You hum contentedly, but he doesn’t hear you. His heart in his throat as he swallows back the sick feeling of possibly having hurt you.

Eskel releases his grip almost immediately and scans your placid, dewy body as you pant and tremble beneath him. Panic starts to bubble in his chest. He swallows again. Your eyes are still closed, but he feels a little relief to see the hint of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth and eyes.

"Love? Talk to me, please."

You blink open one eye with a quirk of your brow, letting the smile pull your lips up. “Eskel, you just absolutely —” And then it hits you, the creases on his forehead, the tight forward slump of his shoulders, the emptiness of terror that so rarely decorates Eskel’s eyes. You reach up, smoothing your fingers down the harsh planes of his cheek, doing your best to chase away the darkness that dares threaten to pull him under.

"Did-did I…? Are you…?"

"Hushhh now," you coo, pressing a delicate finger to his lips and coaxing him back down to the pillow. "I made you a promise, didn't I? That I would tell you the minute I feel something I don’t want. And you know that I would never, not a single time, lie to you, yes?"

Eskel nods and moves a piece of hair away from your forehead, his voice husky and vulnerable in your ear, “I can’t shake the feeling that… you have bruises.” He rubs his fingers over the marks on your hip and you can feel his hands trying to take it all back, wipe them away.

“And have you ever considered, my darling,” you murmur, taking his hand away to kiss the calloused tips of his fingers, “that I might enjoy having your touch linger on me after we’ve pulled apart and the day has turned over again?”

Your witcher traces the purpling fingerprints on your hip again, his brow furrowed in thought. "You like these," he states—as much for himself as to confirm with you.

"Mmhmm," you nod and kiss his shoulder. "It reminds me of the passion we share, how close you hold me to you when everything falls away."

"I never thought of it that way..." he drifts off back into the foggy recesses of his mind and you know he's blaming a part of himself that only exists because the rest of the world has put it there.

“Eskel,” you press a kiss to his chest, pulling his molten gaze back to yours, “don‘t go there, stay with me. Keep me in your arms and your mind. I want you, all of you. As you are. And I want you to have me in return.”

"And you'll tell me if I—"

"Always. I promise, I will tell you if something is too much."

"Even if—"

"Even if one or both of us is getting close. Come on, lie down with me. Don't linger on unhelpful thoughts. I've told you I like it, and you know I love you. Let that be enough."

Eskel sighs, sinking back into the embrace of the blankets around him and your arms encircling him. “You’re always enough. More so. More than I think I deserve sometimes.”

“And?” You raise a brow, and you know that he knows that you hate when he talks like that.

“And,” he laughs, “you’re helping me see that I’m enough for you.”

You kiss his forehead, "Good. Now maybe one of these days I'll be able to convince you that you're so much more than I ever could have imagined finding in this lifetime."

"Hmmm this all sounds very advanced."

"Not at all, it's easy," you say, lazily tracing a finger through his soft dusting of chest hair. "You just have to take my word for it."

He breathes deeply and pulls you closer, falling back into the completeness of everything as he feels your pulse slow against his chest. The sweet smell of your sweat mingles with the leftovers of your arousal and the sharp musk of your releases. 

And just like that, he slips into meditation. Completely unintentionally. He doesn’t sleep—that would mean losing this feeling. Instead, he settles into it so deeply, it’s all there is. Just you. His place of power.

You feel the thrum of his chaos find its place under his skin, tingling and rumbling through his bones. It’s a foreign feeling, almost frightening, but it’s also warm and welcome, a part of your lover that you’ve never experienced this intensely, this intimately—the timelessness of him, the ancientness of his magic. You nestle impossibly close to him, holding him while he allows himself this rest, and allow yourself the same.

————————

@criminaly-supernatural @belalugosisdead @the-space-between-heartbeats @thirstyforred @iloveyouyen @enkelikauneus

[solar-bear]

Baby number 4

Ok so here's the finished smut I was talking about, this is the full version, so if the reader insert version seems a little off it's because it's missing the intro lol I know people probably aren't going to read this version but I wrote it for me. The reader insert version should be up on my main blog soon.

I think y'all know I've been kind of obsessed with DILF!Bi-Han lately so under the cut is 6 pages about Bi-Han convincing me to have another baby. There's smut, lots of it, so hopefully, you lovelies enjoy it!

I tuck Shìxuě into his bed, pulling the sheets up over his chest knowing full well we would squirm out of them before morning. “Goodnight my little pumpkin, sleep well,” I lean over and press a kiss to my seven-year-old’s chilly forehead. The only reply I receive is a large yawn and very sleepily slurred, “night mama.” Within moments the young cryomancer is sleeping soundly, cuddled up with his stuffed polar bear. I smile softly at the scene and brush some of the hair out of his face, I adjust the covers one more time and shiver involuntarily as the temperature in the room dips. I look over toward the door where Bi-Han is leaning against the frame with an unusual look on his face, reluctantly I leave Shìxuě‘s side and making my way towards the door. “What?” I ask, pushing him out of the way and securing the door behind me, “what’s that look for.” Bi-Han crinkles his nose, “what look?” His deep voice queries, trying his best to hide the smile tugging at his lips. “The weird half-smile you’re giving me,” he doesn’t give me more time to prod as his cold, strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me close against his cold body, forcing another shiver from me. “It’s nothing, it’s just, you’re so good with our boys, especially Shìxuě, so loving, so doting, it stirs something primal in me.” He rumbles softly as his large hand carcasses my flat stomach, “it makes me want more, I want another child with you, Sol. I want to have a little girl, beautiful and delicate but strong-willed and sassy, just like her mother.” His cold lips fall to my neck as he accentuates his words with chilled kisses, making me shudder. “B-Bi-Han, we already have three children, it’s kind of a lot already, you can’t be serious about wanting a fourth,” I try and reason with him, melting into his soft touches. “The twins are 11 now and can do so much for themselves, they could even help feed and care for their baby sister and Shìxuě doesn’t need much help anymore. He sleeps the whole night through, he can feed himself, hell he even does his homework without being told. Come on Sol, let’s have another baby,” he practically purrs as his cold hands sneak under my shirt to press lightly against my stomach as he kisses his way along my jaw, making his way to my full lips. I whimper softly finding it so hard to deny Bi-Han, “b-but I’m 37 already Bàixiòng, I’m no spring chicken anymore! I-it’s not always a good idea to have a child this late in life,” I sigh loudly as sudden and unwelcome thoughts of my Mother invade my brain, I know full well she was my age when she had me. “Sol you’re in great health, you’ve always been so mindful of yourself when you’ve been pregnant in the past, you’ll be just as careful this time. What’s really bothering you qīn?” He asks, his expression falls from a happy, lustful one to one of concern and something harder to read, the look of a man who knows you better than yourself. I pull him down the hall to our room, not wanting to keep Shìxuě up, I sigh as I sit down on our bed, “my mother had me at 37, almost 38 aì rén, I’m worried that if we have another baby, especially a girl, history will repeat itself.” I bite my lip hard, trying to stifle a cry and I fight to blink back tears. Bi-Han is next to me in an instant, his strong cold arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his burly chest. “You are a wonderful mother Sol, you’re not an alcoholic, narcissistic monster like she is. You won’t raise your older children and then decide you’ve been a Mother long enough and just ignore your youngest, leaving her to raise herself,” I can hear the disgust in his words as he soothes me. “I see the way you are with our boys, how much you love and adore them, how much you dote on them. There is not a shred of that woman in you, you love others more than you love yourself, there is no way another child would be anything other than another blessing for us,” Bi-Han kisses my temple and cradles me in his strong arms, rocking me back and forth. “You sure this isn’t just a bad pick-up attempt? We are married you know, you don’t have to

come up with elaborate rouses to get into my panties,” I laugh and bury my face in between Bi-Han’s massive pecs trying to change the subject and lighten the mood. I don’t want to dwell on my Mother or the past any longer, not when I have my own wonderful little family to give me the love and support I never had. “Tch. I know that. I just want to put a baby in you, I want to hold you down and pump you full of my cum until you’re sobbing and panting for mercy,” he growls lustfully his hands moving to fondle my large breasts. “Not to mention see these bad boys get even bigger, and your belly all swollen with my kid, that’s what I want qīn. If I just wanted to fuck you, I would, I want to claim you,” his lips pull back into his trademark smirk before they descend on mine. I moan into his mouth as my fingers tangle in his hair, how could I possibly deny him when he put it like that. I titter softly against his icy lips, breaking the kiss for a moment, “fine Bi-Han, you win, let’s have a little girl.” He leans me back as his huge body clambers over mine as he pulls his shirt up and off, his muscles bulging and flexing with all of his well-muscled glory. He’s practically beaming, grinning ear to ear before he tries to regain his cool facade, “that’s my good girl,” he licks his lips in anticipation as he leans forward closing the gap between us, our lips moving in a practiced dance. I moan softly as I allow his tongue entrance into my mouth, it’s so cold against mine, but I’m used to it, even without the cold though the way Bi-Han is kissing me would make me tremble with more than just desire. I tilt my head sideways and open my mouth a bit wider as his cold tongue curls and snakes around mine, teasing and luring me into his chilled mouth as my nails rake lightly at the base of his hairline. I suck provocatively on his tongue, earning a guttural groan from the cryomancer, his large hands squeeze my hips as he lays his body flush with mine to roll his hips against my clothed sex. I lose our battle as I gasp and break the kiss, pressing my hips up against the delicious bulge in his pants, “fuck,” I whisper tugging my shirt off hastily. “I mean we kind of have to unless you know another way to make a baby qīn,” he chuckles in a low voice and I can’t help but feel arousal pooling in my lower stomach upon hearing those words. I try and reply with something witty but the words die in my mouth as he rocks his clothed cock against me again and his cold lips find my right breast, the temperature difference causing my nipple to harden and pebble immediately. I inhale sharply as his teeth graze the hard bud as he works one of his hands easily into my loose-fitting sweatpants, his sweatpants; he sucks my breast into his cold mouth causing me to arch my back. Bi-Han’s skilled fingers slip under my panties and teasingly skim over my soaked folds, I curse softly as I feel him spreading the moisture across my hot sex, it’s ridiculous how easily he can get me worked up. “Ngh, Bi-Han,” I moan softly, trying to keep my voice low as to not wake up the boys, I bite my lip as one cold digit pushes inside my hot, tight hole. “Mmm, you’re so wet already qīn, you just love the idea of me putting another baby in you don’t you? You being at my mercy, using you however I want, filling you over and over again with my seed until your tight little pussy can’t hold anymore,” he groans against my ample chest as he presses another finger inside me, he doesn’t hold back as he immediately crooks his fingers finding my sweet spot with practiced precision. “As much fun as it is to try to conceive our daughter I can’t wait to see your swollen belly, knowing it’s my baby and only mine, growing inside you,” he growls as he pumps his fingers in and out, finding a steady rhythm. I can’t help but buck up against his fingers, his words making me wetter and wetter, “of course it’s your baby, who else would knock me up,” I tease him as I tense up around him as his fingers caress my sweet spot with sweet, gentle strokes. Bi-Han pulls away from my tit as his cold

lips graze my collar bone before sinking his sharp teeth into the sensitive skin, causing me to cry out loudly as his fingers thrust harder and deeper inside me and I can feel my walls fluttering with intense desire. He groans as he laps at the angry crescent-shaped wound almost apologetically as he laps lazily at the blood trickling down my breasts. The action forces me to cling tighter to the strong cryomancer, the brief, intense pain heightening my pleasure to a level that makes it impossible to think about anything but Bi-Han and his thick fingers pumping in and out of my dripping, mess of a cunt. “F-fuck, P-polar Bear,” I curse quietly as my desire continues to mount as more delicious heat pools in my core as the cryomancer switches back to curling his fingers inside me, stroking my sweet spot again with firm, rapid movements. He smirks at me and suddenly ceases his movements, “oh I don’t know, maybe you know some hot dilfs from the PTA you’re seeing on the side or something.” The cryomancer pulls his fingers from my aching pussy and holds them up for me to see, “but I doubt it, not with how wet you are for me,” he slowly brings each digit to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfying smack of his lips. I flush deeply and let out a low whine, “fuuuuuck, come on Bi-Han, stop teasing me,” I beg him, knowing he loves hearing nothing more than the sound of my desperate voice pleading him. “Aww come on qīn you can do better than that,” he coos while pulling my pants and panties off with one easy tug. I puff my cheeks out at him and huff childishly, “you’re the one who wants another baby! Why am I the one having to do the begging? Shouldn’t you be begging me for a chance?

I’m the one who has to do everything! You just make it!” Bi-Han gives me a sheepish grin as he rids himself of his pants, his hard cock jutting out from a neatly trimmed patch of black hair. His icy blue eyes flutter close for a moment as he drags his hand along his impressive length, smearing glistening pre-cum all over his lust darkened head. “You’re right Sol, you are the one who has to carry it, but you already told me earlier we could have a little girl,” he rubs his icy cock along my velveteen, wet folds, teasing my hole with the thick head of his cold cock. “So please qīn, let me fill you up,” he pauses to slip inside me, his cold hand caressing my cheek, “let me paint that pretty little womb of yours with my cold cum,” he breathes out a low groan as he finishes sinking all the way inside my hot pussy. I throw my head back and arch my back as I feel my cryomancer’s huge cock opening me up, rearranging my insides to make room for him and fuck does it feel good, he always feels good, so perfect. I can’t help but cling to him as his throaty words echo in my mind, “oh Bi-Han,�� I sigh lovingly unable to deny him what he wants, “more please,” I give in and go back to begging him. His dick feels even bigger and thicker than usual as my walls stretch and burn slightly trying to accommodate his length. I can’t help but feel almost drunk from arousal already as I gasp and whine his name while I feel the cryomancer’s thick cock filling me inch by delicious inch. I can feel him trembling with restraint as he struggles to retain control of his desires, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm me too quickly. He pants softly atop me as he finally buries his cock to the hilt inside my welcoming pussy. It feels good, so good, better than usual even, everything about Bi-Han right now makes me feel like every nerve is alight with desire, the knowledge of how much he wants me, how much he wants to have another child with me making my emotions feel like they’re spiraling out of control. I sigh blissfully as I squeeze my walls around him loving the feeling of him filling me so entirely, “let’s make another little one,” I whisper in a soft, sweet invitation. “You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to, every time I see you with the boys it’s all I can think of,” he groans as his cold hands ghost over my stomach while he pulls his cock out and presses it back in slowly. He rocks his hips driving his cock deep inside my tight walls, teasing and testing my limits as he fucks me slowly, passionately, it’s a rare moment, but I can actually call the act lovemaking. My breath comes out in visible pants as his lengthy torso drapes over my body, pinning me to our bed, my nails rake down his back as his cock fills me over and over again. I cry out as he begins to thrust slowly and deeply in and out of me as my walls hug and squeeze his cock with each stroke, pressure building up inside me. I whine and whimper his name softly as I try and pull him deeper inside my trembling cunt, each stroke of his cock brushing up against my cervix, so deep. Bi-Han’s lips curl into a pleasured snarl as he thrusts in and out of my wetness, his hands never leaving my stomach as he grunts in time with his actions. “Fuck qīn, you feel so good,” he praises, voice thick with lust. His words pull a loud moan from me and I immediately throw my hand over my mouth to stifle my noise, I screw my eyes shut as my pussy clamps down around his huge cock. I buck my hips up against his thrusts, pushing the cryomancer even deeper inside my wanting cunt, my thighs shake with effort and I know I’m not going to make it much longer. I pull Bi-Han’s head down to mine, frantically crashing my lips against his cold ones in an attempt to quiet myself as he keeps thrusting into me steadily. Each one of his thrusts hitting my sweet spot over and over again, I moan and cry into his mouth, each sound swallowed up by the cryomancer as his tongue dominates my mouth and his teeth tug at my bottom lip. I feel completely blissed out and oblivious to anything other than the cryomancer as

his thick cock makes it nearly impossible to think about anything but how perfect his length feels inside me, but some part of my brain still remembers to try not to wake the boys. My nails bite into the hard flesh of his perfectly muscled back, I gasp into his mouth as blood bubbles up from underneath my fingers as I tremble and shake with my impending orgasm. Bi-Han groans loudly against my mouth as I tighten around him, he breaks the kiss to whisper filthily in my ear, “you ready qīn, I’m about to breed you like the perfect little sow you are.” I bite my lip hard at his words, face flushing deep red as he refers to me as what you call a female polar bear, no doubt a nod to my nickname for him. I bite my fist hard to stifle my cry as his cock continues its onslaught of my pussy, my hips rocking in time as my mind goes blank, I feel my eyes rolling back into my skull as I clamp down hard around his thick cock. He’s so deep inside me I can’t hold back any longer as I give into my desires and cum hard around Bi-Han’s length, my body shudders and shakes hard as my greedy pussy tries to suck the cryomancer’s dick in as deep as possible. Blotchy stars dance before my eyes as I groggily try and force them open to look up at Bi-Han’s handsome face, his brows knitted in concentration as his grip on me tightens and he knows he no longer has to hold back. “That’s it qīn, you’re such a good girl for me, your perfect little pussy’s doing its best to pull my cock in deeper, it knows you’re ready to bare another of my heirs,” he growls against my ear before biting down lightly. His thrusts become shallow and so deep that I feel like he’s opening me up in impossible ways, he’s so determined to cum as deep inside me as possible. “Fuck, I’m going to paint that pretty little womb of yours snow-white, and you’re going to be a good girl and drink up every drop of my seed,” he snarls as his hips snap forward sharply, his cold, heavy body caging mine against the mattress as it creaks and groans under his efforts. I can’t even form coherent sentences as I hear his words, all I can do is whimper and whine pitifully as the cryomancer uses my body, “please, oh please Bi-Han.” My back arches off the bed as his cold fingers find the sensitive nub at the apex of my pussy as he rubs it quickly in time with his animalistic thrusts. Bi-Han lets out a deep, guttural growl as his hips finally still, burying his cock as deep inside me as possible, I whimper as I see his perfect abs contracting with his impending release. Frost spreads from under his fingers across my hips and stomach as his sharp teeth bite into the supple juncture of my shoulder as he quiets his roar of satisfaction. I press my hand against my mouth as my back arches off the bed, I cry his name into my hand until my voice is hoarse and tears prick at my eyes. I shake with exertion as Bi-Han’s final onslaught and release brings me to completion once more. I can’t help but give in to my baser instincts and desires as my walls squeeze and massage his huge cock desperate to milk every drop of cum from the cryomancer as my vision goes white. My eyes roll further back into my skull as my head slumps against the pillow, a combination of my tears and saliva soaking the pillowcase where it lies against my cheek. My body is wracked with great shudders of my blissful aftermath as my legs jerk and toes curl as I ride out the last waves of pleasure. It feels like Bi-Han won’t ever stop filling my spent cunt full of thick, viscous cum and I don’t ever want him to, it feels too good, too perfect. Bi-Han doesn’t pull out right away, I know he’s enjoying my warmth more than he’ll ever admit, he just groans with satisfaction and flops on top of me. “Ya know qīn, it might take a couple attempts to get you pregnant,” he pauses to skim his hands along my belly, “but I think I’m up to the challenge of it.” I don’t have the energy to push my behemoth of a husband off me as I just lay there, feeling his cock softening inside me as I lazily stroke his hair, “I think you’re counting on it taking

more than one attempt.” I laugh softly and shiver slightly, the cold rolling off his perfect body finally starting to get to me now that we’re no longer in the throes of passion. “For now though I’m going to bed,” I start, “I have a parent-teacher conference with the twins in the morning.” Bi-Han just grunts in acknowledgment before finally rolling off and getting comfortable next to me, “those little shits better not be in trouble again.” “Not this time,” I laugh, “though they do take after their father,” I tease wiggling my eyebrows at the now sated cryomancer. “It’s just the routine one they have every semester, and yes I’ve been checking their report cards, no problems there, thank god they don’t need help with math,” I laugh knowing I’m useless to help in that aspect of their education. Bi-Han yawns and pulls me against his body, tucking his head in the crook of my neck, “I’m looking forward to giving them a little sister to look out for, I think it will be good for them.” “Hmm, I think you might be right,” I cradle Bi-Han’s head close and curl up against him as I drift into a very pleasant and satisfying sleep.

[ladykissingfish]

The Great Akatsuki Bake-Off

*this was a request in my inbox, I’m so sorry Anonymous I accidentally deleted it before I could reply, but I saw your message and here’s the response! ❤️*

Premise: The Akatsuki is broke af (again), and Pein comes up with the idea of having a bake sale to earn money. Every member of the Akatsuki makes a dessert to sell; chaos (or hilarity) ensues.

**Also I picture them setting up tables outside of one of the Akatsuki hideout caves which of course is equipped with a fully functioning kitchen because why not Jim**

Pein

It was his idea, he’s the leader, so naturally he ain’t cooking. The most the Pein-body will do is sit in the kitchen with Konan while she cooks, offering his opinion or praise.

Kisame

Kisame isn’t the biggest fan of sweets, so is at a bit of a loss for what to make. In the end, he decides to go with something that’s decidedly more savory than sweet; bacon-flavored scones with a maple syrup glazing. This requires some kneading and precise shaping, the latter of which requires small, delicate fingers that Kisame borrows Konan for. Should be noted that he wears a pink Kiss The Cook apron, and he blushes like crazy when Konan reads it and delivers one to his cheek. He gets a bit over-exuberant with the icing, getting more of it on the table than the actual scones. However, the end result is light, fluffy, and absolutely delicious. Deidara especially loves the bacon aspect, and is able to snitch a great number of these until Kakuzu catches him and forces him to pay up.

Deidara

Deidara would make a classic lava cake. He’d know absolutely nothing about this dessert beforehand; he’d be going through a cookbook, his eyes would fixate on the word “lava”, and he’d be sold. Sasori insists that he put on rubber gloves beforehand, because “Nobody wants your hand-drool in their food, brat.” Lava cake requires a very delicate touch and precise timing, something that Deidara has had to become familiar with when deploying his arsenal of bombs. Yet despite being careful he would have to start and re-start this mix many times; maybe he gets eggshells in the batter here, or mistakes oil for milk there. The inside of a lava cake has to smooth and liquid-y but the outside has to be soft yet firm; a single minute in the oven can make the difference between wonderful and awful for these little cakes. When he finally perfects one, he’s ecstatic; but the rest of the group is horrified, at how destroyed the kitchen is. Chocolate batter and powdered sugar covering every wall; yet, somehow, the guy himself remains spotless. Also, Deidara has made another critical error; he assumed that because the recipe was for a cake, it was for a LARGE cake that he could cut into sections and sell piece by piece. However, lava cakes are always small, individual desserts ... and Deidara has only made ONE. Still, he’ll take his one beauty and sell it almost immediately, leaving him time to wander around and filch “free samples” from everyone else’s dishes.

Zetsu

Nobody wants Zetsu trying to cook, because everyone is terrified of what he’d put into his creations. However, White Zetsu insists that (t)he(y) wants to participate, so the others hesitantly let him do so (with everyone periodically coming in to monitor him). His contribution? Pie. Zetsu knows that the key to delicious pie is in the light flakiness of the crust, and he creates several pies that literally melt in the mouth. And he doesn’t just do one flavor; he does apple, blueberry, cherry, and something he calls “surprise berry” ((which is really just a mix of raspberry, blackberry, and strawberry). Before Tobi goes to help Itachi, he’s in charge of helping Zetsu gather up the fruit, and he helps to peel and core and pit and wash until “my hands are really sleepy Zetsu-san!” Zetsu thinks his pies are perfect creations as a whole but Kakuzu insists he cuts them into individual slices to maximize profits, which White Zetsu balks over but Black Zetsu tells him to be quiet about.

Konan

Konan is a delicate, beautiful flower, so naturally anything she makes would reflect this. After much deliberation, she decides to make her version of a layered lemon mascarpone cake. The cake itself is a wonderfully moist vanilla sponge infused with lemon curd, layered with a thick lemon, honey and mascarpone cream, topped with fresh berries, and a light sprinkle of chopped pecans. At first she was only going to make one cake and portion it out into about 20 small pieces; but the demand for it was so high that Kakuzu told her he’d stay and sell the rest while she got back into the kitchen and made another. She’s by far the neatest chef in the kitchen, as she cleans up her mess as she goes so when she’s through, all she has to wash is the empty cake pan itself. She makes sure to save a large piece to secretly take to Nagato later; it’s been a long time since he’s had anything sweet to eat.

Kakuzu

Kakuzu doesn’t want to cook; he’d rather be the one running the sale. However he recognizes that the more desserts they have the more profit they can make, so he grudgingly makes a few trays of brownies. His secret ingredient? Sour cream. At first everyone sees him putting this into his mix and think he’s gone crazy; however, after they try one ((and don’t think for a second he’s not charging his fellow teammates for even a tiny sliver)) they’re blown away by how good they are. After he sets his items on the table, he’s the one who collects the money from the customers. Has to be talked down from the exorbitant prices that he tries to charge people at first. “How much for a piece of blueberry pie?” “500,000 ¥.”

Sasori

He really isn’t into baking (because why would he be? he doesn’t eat) but he knows how to read and follow a recipe. After some careful thought, he chooses to make cupcakes. At first he resolves only to make a dozen, and to keep it all one simple flavor: the chocolate with vanilla frosting that’s in the recipe. Yet as he stands there, a feeling takes hold of him; he remembers happier times, perched on a stool in the kitchen and watching/helping his grandmother as she cooked. That nostalgia drives him to get more creative, and make MUCH more than intended. Some of his creations are great; such as his ginger-chocolate cupcakes with fudge icing. But others, like his broccoli and carrot cake topped with “spicy” cream cheese, not so much. Regardless, the majority of his creations sell, which Sasori’s pleased about. Should be noted that Kakuzu did not entirely trust Sasori not to put some kind of poison into his dessert, so he forced Hidan to sneak and taste-test everything (as he’s the only one who would regenerate from certain death). But Hidan wouldn’t know arsenic from cinnamon; and he winds up with a hell of a stomach-ache after his forced culinary servitude.

Itachi and Tobi

Seeing as how he loves dango so much, Itachi decides to make several dozen sticks of the tri-colored sweet rice dumplings. He keeps the pink dumpling the common strawberry flavor, and the white plain, but he does something special with the green ball, flavoring it with vanilla extract and green tea. Because Tobi is a nightmare in the kitchen (and because he needs supervision when it comes to sweets), Itachi allows him to help, mainly in the form of sticking the dumplings neatly on the stick once they’re shaped. He’s a good helper, except for when Itachi takes his eyes off of him, as he likes to add icing, sprinkles, and a variety of decadent extras that don’t belong on this simple dessert. And it’s a good thing that Itachi makes so many, seeing as they BOTH sneak and eat quite a few when the other is distracted. Tobi is very helpful when it comes to pushing their wares, as his carefree, childlike demeanor attracts customers to their table.

Hidan

Hidan wants something that’s visually representative of him, so what does he make? Red velvet cake bars. The outside is covered with a white-silver frosting, but when you cut into it, the deep red of the cake greatly resembles blood. Hidan isn’t the best at baking (or cooking in general) so he asks Konan to help him when she’s not occupied with her own dish. He’s surprisingly calm and conscientious in the kitchen, keeping his swearing to a minimum and being extra-careful with measuring out ingredients and waiting on the oven to do its thing. He borrows Kisame’s Kiss The Cook apron, only he crosses out the second O and replaces it with a C. His bars come out slightly uneven but really good nonetheless. However, being Hidan, he can’t resist throwing in a prank; he saves some of the cake batter and holds it in his mouth, then, after taking a bite of someone else’s fare, claims that it’s poisoned and spits “blood” out of his mouth, which freaks out their early customers until Kakuzu catches him and exiles him back inside.

[senju-sekhmet]

The Leash (Part 5)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death ~7600 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Read on AO3!  Disclaimer below the cut!

DISCLAIMER! -i reckon I don’t need the paste it again… but in short: this is a purely self-indulgent work which contains a lot of my own headcanons and whatnot. this chapter especially so! lots of talking and thinking - curious to see what you think!! THANKS FOR READING <3 Consciousness was slowly seeping back into you. Like proverbially melting snow, the rivulets of thawing water were running over you while somehow you still felt coated, blanketed in heavy coldness. You blinked a few times before you realised no matter how often you did that, the darkness would not vanish: Tobirama had made good on his promise to provide an environment for you that was deprived of outward stimulus as much as possible. He had blindfolded you - though now the article was causing a rapidly budding sense of dread. Ignoring the ever present aches in your body, you snuck an arm up from under the blanket to rip it off quickly. The rest of the haze quickly cleared up.

The room was still dark, though. 

Your breaths were beginning to come more uneven now as you tried to fumble for the light on the nightstand. You had to clench your teeth to bite back on sobs that wanted to break out. How pathetic. Since when were you afraid of the dark?

But then you now were also scared of sleep.

Where was all of this coming from? Silly, you knew the answer, anyway.

A moment later, the dim light bulb illuminated the room. It was stale comfort.

You swallowed down the panic that was still settling in your chest. A whimper echoed in the lonely room. Your eyes wandered to the window - the curtains were drawn closed. Of course. Maybe-

With clenched teeth, you pushed the blanket aside and prepared yourself for the pain that would follow now. First, you pushed your chest off the bed with both arms. For now, the anguish was bearable, but you knew it'd get worse - next, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and before you could hesitate again, you rose to your wobbly, weak legs. 

The pain exploded. It was searing through your body like a wild fire rampant and uncontrolled. The wounds you almost - almost - had forgotten you had suffered from were acting up to remind you they were far from healed. There hadn't been a part of you the Stone hadn't cut, sliced, ripped, stabbed - and the healing had been reduced to a bare minimum. All the aches you suffered from now was tissue that didn’t want to be moved, that was broken.

You might even risk tearing open the injuries again - but you didn't care.

Because this was nothing compared to the increasing dread you felt now - caged, haunted, alone. 

Helpless.

You just needed to get that damn window open. See the village.

You staggered over to the window. Each step felt like knives being driven through your legs, wrenched around, tearing muscle apart, pulled out and then plunged back in. Tears began to stream down your face as memories of precisely that happening were starting to blur your focus.

Just four steps.

Four fucking steps.

With a gasp much like a drowning man's final one, you ripped the curtain open. 

Pale moonlight filtered through the window. Before you, the Hidden Leaf was peacefully slumbering. Your haggard form was shaking as the panic subsided, slowly. Sobs were wrecking through you as tears flowed freely.

Free. You were free. You just needed to remind yourself of that.

You wanted to linger at the window, but your power was leaving you rapidly. Already, you could feel your legs give in to the exertion. Not to mention the red-hot pain burning through you.

Standing. You just wanted to stand by the window. 

You had to turn around. The last thing you wanted was for Tobirama - or anyone, for that matter - to find you crumbled in front of the window. They’d ask questions you didn’t want to answer.

With a hiss, you began your martyrdom back to your bed. By the time you arrived, you felt ready to pass out from both exhaustion and agony alike.

Still, you refused to lie down again. You wanted to keep looking out of the window. Focus on anything that didn't remind you of everything that happened to you. Therefore you opted to simply sit on the edge and gaze outside, marvel the night sky. When last had you seen the stars?

The second dose of the leash had been quite different. Since Tobirama had put you to sleep, the effects of the drug had taken place in your dreams entirely: vivid scenes, nightmares your deranged mind would cook up from memories and physical sensations alike. Since the latter had been mostly absent, it left the focus on the former; unfortunately it had an extremely rich stock to draw inspiration from. What few pleasant ones you had made were overshadowed by the hell you were running through again. 

It just was so real. Everything. Real - and in bizarre forms even worse, thanks to the drug. Your tormentors had you in their grasp again, they were forcing you down on the dreaded table again. The restrains were biting into your skin as you fought bitterly against them, but it was futile. It was all futile and you had no choice but to relive all the torture again, every knife that cut you, ever drill that went into your bone, your skull, the saw at your ribs, the kunai they had stuck into your abdomen-

You closed your eyes and drew a deep breath.

Still - recovery was a tad bit faster. You knew they were hallucinations quickly. And as soon as the effect began to wane, the sleep was powerful enough to put you to rest. In a way, that was better.

A little bit.

And because it was artificial sleep, you wouldn't wake and nobody would hear your screams.

That was a relief.

You were going to relieve torture for as long as you were tethered to the leash - over and over again, in horribly deranged ways. Tears were flowing down your cheeks again as you sniffled, rubbing your hands over your face. 

You'd endure.

You had endured so much now.

This was just in your head.

You started to take deep breaths in order to soothe yourself when suddenly, the silence was cut through harshly, eliciting a surprised yelp from you and a slight flail of your arms as you tried not to slide off the bed.

"You are supposed to be resting." Tobirama's baritone voice behind you was stern - leaving no question about how displeased he was to see you like this.

Before you could speak he had rounded the bed to stand next to you and stare you down with a frown etched into his forehead, the scarlet gaze miffed. You closed your eyes briefly and found you had grasped for your chest instinctively. "T-Tobirama," you breathed, "Maybe a knock next time…" Where had he placed the hiraishin seal? 

Tobirama ignored your quip after having gotten a real look at you, and not just your back - you wanted to squirm away from the thorough glance he was giving you. Too late. You must've looked bad since you didn't pass muster - "Y/n?" He knitted his eyebrows, his expression softening. "What's going on?" He kneeled down next to you.

Inwardly, you cursed yourself - you didn't want Tobirama to see you like this. He had enough to carry as it was. He didn't need to worry more about you as it was. And you didn't want to be weak. Sitting alone in a hospital room with bloodshot, wet eyes, heaving sobs and drawing heavy breaths.

You were a shinobi, for crying out loud. 

You broke a weak smile and shook your head. "Just a few bad thoughts, is all." That was a bold understatement. But you knew 'nothing' wasn't going to pass by him. You extended a hand Tobirama took cautiously, still studying your face thoroughly for any sign of a lie. "Honestly." You reinforced. Well, you didn't lie.

The way his eyelids narrowed indicated he still wasn't quite sure if he was sold on that, but lucky for you, there was something else bothering him: "Lie down again," he instructed, softer this time but with no less firmness. You rolled your eyes now since that hadn’t passed your mind exactly. He already drew in a deep breath, no doubt to prepare himself to argue with any protest, but when he rose up to reach under your knees and help your legs into the back, you didn't resist at all. The exhaustion had gotten to you, after all, and lying down would feel better now.

"Thank you," you breathed once you were flat against the mattress again. Still, you didn't want to lie down completely just yet - so you opted to try to shift up on your elbows to rest on the headboard of the bed with your back. From the corner of your eye you saw Tobirama half opening his mouth, probably to protest, but he was cut short when you grimaced as searing hot pain shot through your chest and arms and you sunk down with a yelp.

Tobirama frowned again now, eyelids narrowed. "Are you in pain?" His voice was less soft now as the worry broke through more. He took a seat on the side of the bed again, but his hand was reaching for your abdomen, pushing the gown up enough to place it on your skin.

"Tobirama," you protested, but he flat out ignored you.

His touch felt warm, his calloused hand rough on your soft skin. You knew what he wanted to do and inwardly sighed - already, his chakra was pelting your network in a smooth, familiar way. A welcome, soothing sensation - even with how paralyzsed yours was, you wouldn't deny that. You responded in kind as best you could, momentarily. However he intensified the connection quickly and it became more of an examination. Immediately he'd become aware of all the aches and damages you still had to repair from the torture. Maybe some new damages from your latest stunt. You really hoped not. He'd be royally pissed. 

Even so, you rolled your eyes at his action, but you did your best to let your expression mellow somewhat after his inquiry and you attempted another smile that you knew didn't reach your eyes. 

One of your hands came to rest on Tobirama's, whose frown deepened now. "Y/n", his stern voice was more demanding, "Tell me." He definitely  had caught on to your ruse. 

Besides, with his examination, it was pointless to outright lie. Still, you didn't want him to worry more. You knew he did that plenty already.

You knew the whole ordeal was as much hell to him as it was to you.

You sighed then. "I'm-", you started, then you shrugged awkwardly. "It's bearable. Honestly."

He huffed sarcastically in response, "I can see that." Then, he shifted so he'd face your side more to put his other hand on your abdomen and then closed his eyes. You felt his chakra swell.

"Tobirama," you protested again more sternly now, raising a hand to lay over his and shove at them. He needed his energy for something else. Your wounds will heal in time. Heck, there were healers here. He didn't need to burden himself more.

"No." He cut the discussion short with a decisively stern tone, practically a growl, earning him an exasperated groan from you. Any further resistance would result in a lecture, you sarcastically realised. You rolled your eyes again and briefly wondered what he'd do if you flicked your finger at his facial marking on his left cheek. He'd probably shout at you.

Then, the healing started to kick in slowly.

Very carefully he began to tend to the many injuries of varying age that you had suffered from - Hashirama and he had laid the foundation when you first arrived back in Konoha. Their work had paid off, the healing process had kicked in nicely. But in your malnourished state, you'd recover slowly - and there still was the fact to consider that you had been exposed to sloppy, intense manipulation for weeks in which they kept you alive.

Alive. Nothing more. That much Tobirama would be seeing once more. You felt it every time you moved.

He still needed to be careful and not overdo it to not cause you distress or worse, symptoms of extensive chakra manipulation - but enough time had passed to heal some more damages. You knew because Mito had talked about this - and while your skill at healing jutsu was basic, you knew enough. Meticulously he tended to each injury as best he could, expanding on his own and his brother's work. Sometimes microscopically tearing down tissue of inferior quality to let it regrow better and reduce the scar tissue overall, sometimes rebuilding where the body hadn’t begun to heal at all. The worst damage was to your muscles - seeing how they weren't vital organs, they had been neglected most during your captivity. Here, Tobirama took quite some time to amplify, heal, cut down or redirect, much like a gardener tending to the plants. It was like surgery at the smallest possible size; the efforts were tiny, though with time - and rest - they’d pay off well. 

You almost groaned from the thoroughly comfortable feeling that was settling into your body. A procedure like this was like a healing massage of your being as a whole, tuning down the pain quite a bit and at the same time making you feel refreshed - something you had been unable to before, due to the 'leash'. The hand that had tried to push Tobirama's away from your abdomen was patting them now.

"Thank you," you uttered when he was finished, smirking then. Now, it reached your eyes. "You stubborn man."

Tobirama enclosed your hand briefly in his while he huffed. A smirk stretched his lips in a smug gesture. Still, there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Then he pulled back to cover you in a blanket. "No more than you."

You had to laugh a little at that. Then, you became more somber. "You need your energy for other things. I'll heal, eventually. And you know, there are medical nin here." A wink. And a more serious reminder at what truly was important.

Tobirama snorted again. You knew precisely how he thought about placing important tasks out of his hand. His answer didn't surprise you. "I assure you, I have enough energy for every task I need to perform, Y/n," he countered evenly and firm enough to indicate he wouldn’t sway on this.

You rolled your eyes again. In fact, if his tone was any indication, that was a discussion you were not having, now. Or ever. 

Tobirama then shifted a little and frowned again. He opened his mouth and closed it again. There still was a question burning under his skin, you knew. And you really hoped you could answer without breaking into tears again. 

He tried to make his deep voice as soft as possible. And ask in a smart, roundabout way. "How have you been doing?"

You gulped a little, but arched an eyebrow of your own to indicate you'd seen through his intention right away. You wouldn't let that be taken from you. Tobirama frowned a little, likely picking up on the dichotomy. "It's - it's difficult," you admitted eventually after trying to scrap every description of 'nightmare', 'torment' and 'horror' from your explanation. Tobirama didn't need to know more details. "But I will manage." Besides, lying was a futile effort with him, anyway.

Tobirama's arms crossed in front of his chest as he hung his head momentarily. His shoulders had tensed and when he looked back up, his face was scrunched up in a frown again. "Is there anything I can do?" 

The frustration in his question was tangible. 

You were surprised he didn't ask for details - but then he knew you well, of course. You'd talk when you wanted to.

Frankly with the time he probably had spent researching this drug, he was aware of the effects it caused - what you were going through.

You smiled weakly and freed your arm from the blanket to hold your palm up for him to take, which he immediately and firmly did. His warmth alone was soothing.

"I'm going to be fine, Tobirama. It's just in here," you tapped your forehead with your other hand, noticing your movements were less painful now - sure, the aches were still there, but duller. That was comforting. They would flare up again - but you'd enjoy this moment. "Still, it's good you put me to sleep after." 

So nobody might hear you.

His lips turned down in an almost helpless fashion as his thumb stroked your hand gently and he let his chakra pelt yours tenderly. His gaze on you was glossy, almost. "Alright."

Your heart ached.

You both knew there was little to be done at this point except finding the antidote, as fast as possible. 

"How are you doing, Tobirama?", you inquired then, a question you had been wondering about since noticing he actually came by in the middle of the night. You could only guess at how he felt, but of course you knew him well enough to paint a pretty picture of his emotional landscape right now.

The dark rings under his eyes bore witness to that.

Tobirama merely quirked up an eyebrow, snorting a little. "It's difficult," he answered, a little ironically.

You had to roll your eyes now. "Are you taking care of yourself, Tobi?" Now was your turn to become more stern as you made another attempt to sit up at the headboard of the bed to get more on eye-level with him.

Which Tobirama shut down quickly with his free hand on your chest pressing it down and shaking his head. "Better than you, it seems," and already, his voice stern again. 

You half had a mind to be stubborn and get up anyway, but it was ridiculous how easily he flattened your chest against the mattress again when he felt the resistance. You huffed, he gave a grunt. "Right, sitting up will seriously hamper my recovery-", you began.

He shifted again so he'd face you more, an eyebrow rising slowly. You knew that face. Time for a lecture. You wanted to sigh. "You've already sat on the side of the bed, you were clearly in pain - no, don't deny it-" he held up his free hand when you opened your mouth, "- there is no way you weren't with what I've seen - and that curtain," he gestured for the window, "didn't just open itself miraculously."

You were speechless.

"Unless you devised a way to pull it back from here." His head tilted forward questioningly.

"I used a wind release jutsu." You snorted, tone sarcastic. 

"You sure did." He was entirely unimpressed, but he had the decency to not point out that right now, you weren't using any jutsu at all.

"I could've easily sat up now," you pouted then finally, dropping the act. You were quite thankful Tobirama just scolded you for getting up - and did not ask  why  you'd take such a painful endeavour upon you.

"I know," he replied evenly, holding your hand a little bit tighter now while still stroking it softly. His expression mellowed again, his voice became pleading. Firm still, but the scolding tone had vanished - momentarily you wondered if he had  guessed  why you had been sitting and that was why he was showing leniency. "You still need to rest, Y/n. There is…," he paused, taking a deep breath, "a lot of damage that still needs to be tended to. We've just started patching you up. Don't aggravate it."

You sighed. "You changed the topic."

He snorted, but smiled slightly for being called out so easily. "I'm taking care of myself, Y/n."

"When was the last time you slept? Ate?", you asked then, frowning.

He sighed exasperatedly. "Y/n, don't worry about me, please." 'Worry about yourself' is probably what he had wanted to add there with the way he gazed back at you - there was desperation in that.

You knew, then - he didn't want you to see it.

Plus, the fact he didn't answer the question said it all, really.

"Tobirama…", you scolded, your frown deepening. "I can't force you to rest -  like you can -"

"Y/n, you-" his voice's volume rose again.

"- but you damn promise me, you're going to take care of yourself. Or else." Your stare bore into his eyes in the exact same fashion his did.

You both held each other's looks in what seemed to be a duel before Tobirama gave an exasperated sigh. "I will, Y/n."

You smiled then, immediately mellowing. "Thank you." 

Suddenly, Tobirama released your hand and shifted forward. Both of his arms reached under your thin chest to enclose you in a tight embrace as he buried his face in the side of your neck. You were flabbergasted - it was rare he did something like this. The both of you often settled for small gestures outside the privacy of your home - you both preferred letting your chakra mingle and graze over each other's network. It was your much more intimate and tender way of showing affection nobody else could see or know like you both did. But to feel Tobirama's chakra pelt over you and him hugging you this fiercely at the same time - it was special.

Your arms closed around him just as tight as his did around you. His heartbeat thundered against your chest and his breaths came deep, but fast.

"Tobirama?", you asked, now worried.

"You'll be alright," he answered. Taking another deep breath to inhale your scent, embrace you even firmer. 

His voice - his voice had sounded perfectly desperate now.

You turned your head slightly to peck his cheek.

"I will be."

________

Tobirama had embraced you fiercely for longer than he ever had in public. Semi-public, he reminded himself. It was night, and the hospital staff knew better than to come in there without a knock.

The truth was, the despair had been eating him away inwardly. Still was. To see your haggard body - to examine you and  again recognise the vast damages they had inflicted upon you, over and over again - and to know you still were in lethal danger - it was driving him insane.

And yet there you had been, quipping about your in Tobirama's eyes irresponsible behaviour - after waking up from what probably had been a horror trip still.

You, his beautiful, strong woman - still undergoing regular doses of a torture drug - being herself.

Berating him on his health.

He would never, ever forgive himself if he lost you. His heart was bursting from anguish just knowing that possibility was out there.

No. He'd figure this leash out, he'd find the antidote. Holding you this close, he reaffirmed himself of this truth and his promise to you.

Eventually, he drew back slowly.

Your gaze had become a little tired. 

"Sleep some," he instructed softly, his hand caressing your face.

"You too, please," you mumbled.

He leaned forward to place an utterly tender kiss on your lips. He couldn't yet. The experiments were over - he had results now he had to work with. "Soon." He wouldn't lie to you.

Fortunately, you had already fallen asleep.

He let his chakra flow over yours in a warm motion again gently before he took the blanket in both hands and put your arms under it. His heart skipped a few beats uncomfortably when he reminded himself that in a few hours, he will have to be back here no matter what. But for now, he used the hiraishin seal to teleport into the basement and swiftly made for the makeshift laboratory. 

As he had expected, the contents of the leash were found exclusively in Konoha's forests. Three different herbs to be precise, all of them known for potent psychoactive qualities. Or, in layman's terms, used as drugs. So far, so good. The real trick of the leash - the reason why it was called that - was the chakra altering component. And there his problem started again. None of these herbs were known for anything like chakra disruption or slowing chakra flow in the body.

Tobirama damn near smashed a glass vial into the next wall.

He was confronted with his worst fear once more; not that he hadn't gathered enough evidence to that effect before already. But he had hoped to at least glean something of a lead in how the chakra altering part of the drug worked by identifying the chemical components of the drug. Again, luck wouldn’t be on his side. Now, the real trick would be to find out how the whole chakra component worked separately to these herbs. Researching that went beyond simple chemical experimentation.

Tobirama sat down in front of the small vial that still held a small amount of the leash and stared at it as if that might make it show him on its own. His hands raked through his hair. Truth be told, he had felt the chakra signature the substance emitted the same way Hashirama had when he first had singled out this drug - but he hadn't paid much attention to that yet. It wasn't so uncommon for substances or items really, chakra was a very versatile thing and could be used in many ways - paper bombs for example and many more different tools used in combat. Still, it gathered his attention more now.

"I must be mad," he mumbled to himself after an inspiration struck him. 

He closed his eyes and tuned into his sensory skills, sending a potent, short wave of chakra through the vial in a way he'd search for enemies.

The result was, to say the least, interesting. 

The substance was swirling, almost like an alive being. Tobirama's scarlet eyes flew open in shock.

He had never seen anything like this. To him, the vial was a tiny, sparkling beacon of chakra now - this thing wasn't just altered by chakra, it was loaded with it. Static, certainly, not flickering or flowing like an alive person’s should be - but stationary evidence to the fact someone had done something .

If this was possible, then that meant...

Tobirama's hand grasped around it to do the next thing he had never ever done before in his life: he tried to examine the contents of the vial much in the way a person was examined. 

This time, the result wasn't as impressive. Of course, there was no network and no substance as such to feel or investigate. Still - Tobirama could sense the echo of the person that had synthesised the leash. Their signature - and through this echo, he could very vaguely guess at the alteration process that had taken place. It was so faint, Tobirama's head almost hurt trying to trace it down. He had to be careful - if he poured too much  of his own chakra into this now, he'd destroy the drug. Besides, it wasn’t so much the signature of the maker he was interested in, but rather the structure of the drug - or rather, the chakra stored within.

Yet no matter how hard he tried, all he could make out was a confusing, ever-changing swirl of finely threaded chakra that was woven together in a clever pattern Tobirama couldn't grasp the slightest. Almost like a foreign language, flowing with no such thing as a thread to unravel it with - no key words he could make out. It fluttered, convulsed around the liquid it had been imbued into; locked in structure and yet eerily flexible.

This wasn't a subtle alteration of some herbal components.

This was more comparable to a damn bomb to the chakra network of a victim.

And it was dauntingly sophisticated. 

Tobirama heaved a heavy sigh. The tight feeling had returned to his chest, constricting it while his heart burned painfully. It could barely get any worse. He sat the vial down and put both palms to his face, dragging them down slowly as he mindfully took deep breaths.

He'd get this. 

His breaths were getting more rattled.

He just had to, there was no choice.

He forced his breath to even out again. The blood was rushing in his ears. 

Numb, he rose to start setting up new experiments to determine the quantities of the three herbs in the leash - a mandatory, but simple task compared to all else now. His hands moved automatically as he prepared everything, his head felt heavy. Stuffed. There were so many things to consider, now.

He still couldn't rule out alteration of the herbs entirely; he still had no idea whether there was a jutsu involved. Or was the substance just imbued with chakra? Was it the chakra itself that caused the effects on you? Plain, simple, stored for a later usage? He had no answer to any of these questions. All he could do at this point was test it out. Again and again. Luckily, synthesising the base of the leash - the three herbs in the right quantities - would be a simple task after these experiments.

That was a small relief.

When all was up and running, he glanced at the clock. Just two hours were left before you needed the next dose. It was still night outside.

For the first time in days, Tobirama actually felt like he needed sleep.

He returned to your side at the very first rays of dawn from home after a short, dreamless nap using the hiraishin seal. In his hand the next dose in a closed vial. 

You were in the beginnings of the withdrawal phase again, squirming slightly in the bed. Your skin was glistening from the sheen of sweat that had formed, but your eyes were closed. Perhaps you actually were asleep, or maybe you just didn't even try to fight the delirium off. Not that Tobirama could blame you. You looked paler than before, too; he knew it must be your blood pressure dropping - all signs pointing to the withdrawal setting in and your body repelling the disruption of your chakra network due to the leash. The systemic response was beginning.

With slumped shoulders, he walked closer to your bed when a new thought occurred to him. 

All they had ever done was analyse the drug itself - and you, using their chakra. There still was an angle they hadn't yet tried: what your body itself had made of the chakra - the leash, really. Wordlessly, Tobirama turned around and slipped the vial back into his pocket to retrieve a few items: disinfectant, a tourniquet, a needle and three vials. 

Right now, he might not be able to recreate whatever the creator of the leash had done to the substance with his chakra using his own, but perhaps whatever your body did to metabolise the substance might yield new information.

He was desperate. He knew it. This - this was desperate. But it was a small price to pay.

When he opened the door to your room again, he didn't make a sound and rounded your bed to sit by your side. Gingerly, he produced your weak arm from under the blanket. You stirred more then and your squirming increased, but your eyes didn't open. Tobirama gave you a brief once-over before he got to work. As usual, your weakened state caused his heart to ache again and the sorrow to flare. No, he'd never get used to seeing you like this. When the leash wore off, it’d always become worse - as what strength was being left in you was sapped away and you were even stripped of consciousness.

Likewise, strapping the tourniquet around your arm just showed off how agonisingly thin you were. When he flicked your cubital vein, your elbow felt sharp in his palm.

The sorrow was beginning to feel suffocating, really. Tobirama hated to be subject to his emotions like this - it was unlike him. And yet on the other hand, what else could he expect? He’d just learn to deal with it.

The moment the needle pierced your skin, you whimpered quietly, trying to wrench your arm out of his iron grip that he quickly reinforced. "I'm sorry," he whispered, already filling the second vial.

You had stilled again. He looked up again to find you gazing at him. 

"Y/n," he breathed, furrowing his eyebrows sadly, but not letting go of your arm. 

You hummed lowly in response. Either you had forgotten about the needle in your skin, or you didn't care.

When the last vial was full, he made quick work of pulling it out and disposing of it as well as quickly closing the wound. 

Time for the far less easy part of his visit.

You must have known too, because your eyes closed again and you only gave a drawn out groan as you squirmed uneasily again.

Fortunately though, the matter went about the same as the last time - Tobirama soothed you as best he could with a calm voice and his hand on the back of your neck, though his heart felt heavy. You needed a moment again to work through it all before he placed the vial on your lips and you swallowed with two big gulps. By the time you stilled, he already had put you to sleep again, but not without giving you a gentle caress and then blindfolding you again. 

He lingered a moment longer to find he picked up on someone standing in the doorway. His head snapped up.

Hashirama was gazing at you, wrought with the same sorrow Tobirama dealt with. "How is she?"

Tobirama's scarlet eyes fell back on you, enduring the anguish of the sight a moment longer before he forced himself up and shook his head. The vials with your blood he slipped into his pocket. He waved his brother out and followed him, closing the door as quiet as he could. 

He walked for the laboratory again, his brother followed suit. "She's still quite weak. I've healed some of the damages a while ago, at least as much as her state would permit. Which wasn't more than… ground work."

Hashirama hummed thoughtfully. "In her malnourished state, her body's own healing capacity is severely hampered."

"Indeed. Add the lack of a functioning chakra network, and I have to admit I'm rather surprised she is not driven insane by the fact her life consists of sleep, nightmares, the onset of first powerlessness and then a delirium. Oh, and the few precious hours in which she is awake - which are ruined by the pains of her wounds." Tobirama's voice was dripping with cynicism. That was a joke, really - he knew you were suffering, badly. You hadn’t fooled him before.

Hashirama sighed and wisely decided to switch the topic. "What's your progress on the leash?"

Tobirama sighed. His shoulders slumped as his pace got a little slower. He might as well break the news now. "It's - it’s as we guessed. It’s all chakra based and  very sophisticated, in fact," he pressed past his clenched teeth.

Hashirama caught up to him and placed a hand on Tobirama's shoulder. His gaze was burdened with worry. "Explain that to me."

Tobirama told him in detail about his findings earlier this morning, as well as the report from the interrogation unit. While he did, his heart began to hammer against his chest again, his nostrils flared. He felt fierce determination and hopeless agony at the same time.

Hashirama's expression had turned sorrowful while he listened to the explanation. His hand squeezed Tobirama's shoulder. "We'll figure this out. We always do."

Tobirama really wanted to latch onto his brother's optimism. Heck, by now he was beaten down enough to do it.

Just for a moment. He wouldn't admit it, though. 

Hashirama smiled slightly then. "If there's one person in Konoha to figure this out, it's you."

And the healing effect died right there, then. Tobirama rolled his eyes then. "That's enough sap for one day, anija," he chided before turning and continuing their walk to the laboratory. 

Hashirama sighed again and Tobirama knew his brother was probably drooping again in his famous way. He had no time for this stuff. 

He flung the door open and reached for the vials containing your blood to place them on the rack on the bench.

Hashirama stood next to him, crossing his arms. "What is your plan?", he asked after a moment, having noticed the setup had changed since last he had been here.

"Ascertain in what quantities they used each of the three herbs. Then, I'll have the base from which they created the leash. After that…" Tobirama's hands gripped the edge of the bench. "I'm going to have to try to replicate the chakra alteration." He might as well be looking for a needle in a haystack.

Hashirama knew that too - he knew they still didn't know enough about the kind of alteration to even begin researching into a certain direction. His hand reached for one of the blood vials, which he grasped around and closed his eyes. Tobirama turned his head slightly to watch his brother work.

“What can you feel?”, he gruffly inquired when his brother wouldn’t speak.

Hashirama hummed thoughtfully. "I'm… not sure," he mumbled, reaching for the leash's vial to examine it in kind. 

Tobirama stayed perfectly still.

"It feels different," he judged after a moment, "The substance definitely got metabolised in a way that altered the chakra that was in the original vial." 

Tobirama frowned and now took one of the blood vials in hands, closing his eyes to examine it, as well. He proceeded the same way he had with the leash: a careful pulse to first check with sensory abilities. No response there. The signature must be too weak. That wasn’t surprising; given the small amount you’d ingest. Then, he tried to examine it closely, like he would if this was still flowing through your veins: there, he received an echo. It was yours; traces of your chakra clung to this blood. That much was to be expected. However when he concentrated harder and poured more of his own into it, he found another trace: it was the leash's. More precisely, its creator's. This time, it felt different though - not the delicate, confusing swirl of the drug itself. This felt sharp - stingy, as though it had hooked onto your blood and ripped everything your blood was passing through. Sharp daggers of  chakra  that had latched themselves onto your cells to damage all the came into contact with.

Tobirama opened his eyes again, slowly.

"This is…" he uttered slowly, awed - but in a horrified way.

"... unlike anything I've seen before." Hashirama finished for him, placing both vials in the rack again. His tone was grave. 

Tobirama placed your blood back on the rack as well, his heart's rhythm pounding in his ears. 

Hashirama had turned around to lean against the bench and crossed his arms. "Tobirama," he finally started. 

Tobirama gave him a curt grunt.

"It might be worthwhile to take another blood sample now," he suggested, turning his glance towards Tobirama. "I'm fairly certain we'd find the drug was acting different in her blood now."

Tobirama nodded slowly, still focusing on taking even, deep breaths before he shoved off the bench. This would very likely reflect in your nightmares - guilt churned in his gut already. Yet there was no other way, and the information was invaluable. "I'll do it."

"No," Hashirama cut in sternly. "You will go home and get more sleep now. You look awful, brother." Already, his brother was heading for the lab door.

Anger flared in Tobirama. He couldn't be serious. He contemplated simply using the hiraishin seal to get to you immediately, but Hashirama suddenly stopped.

"Go, Tobirama. You set everything up here. I'm more than capable of taking blood from Y/n." His voice left little room for discussion. 

He crossed his arms and scowled at his brother. "Don't agonize her, anija," he warned scaldingly, then he took off for home.

He didn't want to. But Hashirama was right. And for the task ahead, Tobirama needed the sharpest mind he could ever have. That wasn't to say that when he was home, the crushing sense of forlornness gripped him like the heartache did. He missed you. So much. The bed felt colder without you in it, and the thought that unless he replicated the leash in the next six days, it would become a lot colder - for the rest of his life. It felt like a rock that was crushing his chest. He showered in hopes of alleviating the feeling somehow, but it was futile.

His sleep was short - he would not allow himself a second longer than he'd be idle otherwise.

Just a couple of hours later, he was back in the laboratory, pleased to find not three, but six vials of your blood on the rack next to the leash. 

He got to work immediately. The analysis of your second blood sample was different indeed: the leash's chakra was latched to your blood nonetheless, but it was not the stingy, cutting thing he had recognized earlier: right now it felt fuzzy, almost like pollen. Clogging and heavy.

It fitted, of course - in your chakra network, this was causing the muteness they had witnessed; the muzzle that was ensnaring it after indigestion. And the way the leash seemed to change perfectly explained why it would cause the effects they witnessed later in you: disruption not only to your chakra network, but quite literal damage to you as your body tries to repel it once your own chakra awakens again.

Tobirama cursed quite colorful profanities at whoever had devised such a sophisticated way of using chakra in a substance. He still had no idea how - if - the psychotropic agents played into all this but at least this was lead.

After having verified the quantities of each herb in the leash he set up to craft a large amount of a solution he now called the basis of the leash. It wasn't a complicated process as such; given the fact the herbs used were not so uncommon in Konoha's shinobi forces, so all Tobirama had to do was tap the hospital's supplies for more. Not long after, he stood in front of a large glass bottle filled to the brim with the basis.

Now, to create the actual leash.

He never had done anything like this. Using chakra to craft an item was one thing - usually there were seals involved that described a certain effect; but these needed activation and wouldn’t trigger upon indigestion by a victim. Things like chakra chains also interacted with a victim’s chakra but only so long as they held them - this drug worked, as far as Tobirama knew, simply by being drunk  once  until the victim was given it again or… killed. In fact - to imbue a liquid with chakra in such a fashion that it remained changeable, responsive to an organism - he had no idea where to even start. His first attempts all ended up with the basis either boiling or the solved, herbal contents beginning to break down and flocking to the bottom of the vial. Tobirama opted to try the same with plain water, but was entirely unable to even store a shred of chakra in it. The herbs were necessary, apparently. It didn’t surprise him - the chakra seemed to have been latched to something, it must be the herbs, then. 

The frustration culminated in Tobirama snagging the vial with the water off the table and smashing it against the wall in a fluid motion where it shattered into a thousand pieces. 

This was all so frustrating. 

He didn't even know if he was on the right path - if a jutsu was involved here, he could try all he wanted. He’d never pull anything off. Where to even start with such a jutsu? Or maybe a seal, actually? But if there was some other trick behind it, then he’d have to figure that out, otherwise he'd never synthesise the leash and you-

He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose.

Easy, now. 

It was a far-fetched guess, but involvement of a jutsu could’ve possibly resulted in a bigger resonance of the creator’s chakra signature. Such was the nature of huge releases of energy to his sensor skills. The leash barely gave off anything, so that seemed unlikely. That left the option of a seal. But if a seal was used then certainly first there’d have to be something to seal off - some kind of chakra.

Which meant somehow, the chakra had been stored in there.

All Tobirama could think of at this point was the way medic shinobi treated their patients: no special jutsu involved but rather establishing a deep connection to the other person’s body, their chakra network; and after examination they’d alter the body with their own chakra, letting it flow freely into the patient. If he were to start viewing the vial like that, he might get somewhere - and if he thought about what he wanted to do - create a drug that near muted the victim’s chakra network, later become disruptive to it - maybe it’d work.

By the end of his patience with the laboratory, he had managed to produce a substance that contained his chakra to a certain degree. It was nowhere near as intricate as the leash itself, but the effect Tobirama thought he had poured in there might at least alter a person's chakra flow. At least it would have done so were the fluid a living person and he were to affect their network. Truth be told, this endeavour had felt like chiselling a statue from a rock with a fork alone. This couldn’t be right; the process of creating this in greater quantities would be a head-splitting process. Not to mention, this wouldn’t cause a disruptive effect in the slightest.

Still. He could take this to the interrogation unit, now. And hope they had some more answers by now. 

He still had a little bit of time before you'd wake.

[farfromparker]

On my command | C.E. Full Fic

Summary: Chris shows up unexpectedly one night and it’s written across his face what he needs. To give up control.

Warnings: Established relationship with D/s themes, sub!Chris, ice play

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: I finally finished Defending Jacob and here we are so how about some subby beefcake Chris? Written in third person POV with an unnamed female character. Feedback is always appreciated! 

Three short, precise knocks on her front door pull her attention away from her phone. She glances at the time, a quarter past seven. She wasn’t expecting company. She walks out to her entryway and even through the frosted glass she knows who’s at the door. She flips the deadlock and opens it.

“Chris? I didn’t think –”

“Sorry, Miss.” He responds and walks past her toward the living room.

Oh.

She shuts the door and follows behind him slowly, pausing at the archway into the living room she leans against the wall.

He shucks out of his jacket and places it carefully across the back of one of her accent chairs before toeing out of his shoes and putting them neatly by an end table. He glances at her for a moment, locking eyes before dropping to his knees and bowing his head. She presses her lips together, studying him. His muscles are tense, shoulders firm. She walks into the room quietly, bare feet against the hardwood. She tips her head to the side, noting how his jaw is clenched. His hair is messy, a stark contrast, he’s usually very put together.

She’s next to him now, bending down slightly, she gets her hand under his chin and tips his head up. His eyes drop, eyelashes fanned across his cheeks.

“Look at me.” Her voice is soft but the command behind it isn’t.

He obeys, his eyes are dark and pleading. She doesn’t know what happened today, what brought him to her in this state, but that look is all the confirmation she needs to continue. She can see now how desperate he is for this. To give up control.

She hums, a low noise in the back of her throat and twists her fingers, digging her nails into the sensitive skin of his throat. His mouth opens with a puff of air and he flexes just slightly, pushing his neck further into the pressure of her fingers.

“Get up.”

He does.

“Take your shirt off.”

He does.

She turns her back to him and walks into the kitchen. He knows better than to try and follow when she hasn’t commanded him to do so. His palms are sweaty and he cracks his knuckles to release some anxious energy. She passes by the entry of the living room after a moment, calling for him to follow. His nerves melt, he’s better when he’s following her instructions and falls in line behind her quickly.

The hallway is dark and when she turns the light on in her bedroom it takes a second for her eyes to adjust. She can feel him behind her, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She pauses for a moment, waiting to see if he’ll touch her. Of course, he won’t, not tonight, not like this, not without her order to do so.

She turns to face him, revealing the cup of ice in her hand. She reaches her free hand out to touch his chest and he sighs at the contact. She trails her fingers along his collarbones first, watching as goosebumps raise in the wake of her touch. She moves down across one nipple, already hard, then to the other. His breathing picks up just slightly as she flicks her thumb across his nipple. She trails her fingers further down. His stomach is hard and she digs in her nails, leaving faint red trails. Resting her hand against the jut of his hip, she pauses, listening to his breathing.

“Green.” He whispers.

She smirks and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. She pulls and he comes easily, moving with her as she backs up towards the bed. She places the cup of ice on the nightstand and pulls her hand away from him. Crossing her arms across her chest, she looks him in the eyes. She’s wearing a tank top and knows how her breasts look. His eyes fall, she knew they would, he loves her breasts. He licks his lips.

“Get naked Chris.”

He does as she says, putting the clothes in a small pile next to the wall and returns to her. His cheeks are flushed, she’s not sure if it’s due to arousal or embarrassment. Possibly, probably, both. She muses for a moment, racking her eyes over the sight in front of her. He’s simply gorgeous. Muscles and tattoos, body hair and pale skin. And he’s hard, cock standing out between his thighs. She’s sure he’s been like that since he walked in her house.

She nods her head towards the bed, “On your back.”

He settles in, stretching his legs into the mattress and turns to look at her. She opens a drawer in her nightstand and pulls out a tie. He raises his hands above his head immediately, interlocking his fingers.

“Good boy.”

He shivers at the praise, something not missed on her. She straddles his stomach then. The rough fabric of her jeans rubbing against his soft flesh. Reaching up with deft fingers she wraps the tie around his wrists.

“Color?” she asks.

“Green.”

“Good.”

She stands and shimmies out of her clothes, save for her bra and underwear, before reaching into the cup. She pulls out a single ice cube to which she pops in her mouth. Digging in for a second one, she then settles back on him, lower this time, careful to avoid his cock. She places the ice cube gently in the center of his chest and he gasps. She pushes it slowly across his skin, melting against his hot flesh. She dips her head down and takes one nipple in her mouth as she brushes the other with the ice cube between her fingers. His body shudders, a small moan leaving his lips.

She pulls her mouth away with a lewd, wet noise once the ice has melted on her tongue. She pushes the ice cube in her hand lower. His stomach dips at the cold sensation, water trails are falling towards the sides of his body, the sheets are starting to get wet. She barely makes it to his belly button before the ice has melted completely. She reaches into the glass for another and glances at his face. He’s breathing through his mouth, panting. But she can see how red his bottom lip is, can practically make out the indentations from his teeth. She tsks and reaches out to rub her thumb across it.

“How many times have I told you to not keep quiet?”

“I’m sorry, Miss.”

She pushes her thumb into his mouth, and he sucks, working his tongue along her digit. Imagines of previous nights flash before her eyes, she knows what his mouth can do. Can feel it against her clit. But that’s not for tonight. She pulls her thumb away and grips his throat, giving a squeeze that she knows will go straight to his cock. His eyes roll back in his head.

“Don’t let me catch you with your teeth on that lip again, do you understand?”

She releases her pressure just enough to bring him back to her.

“Yes Miss, I understand.” His voice is wrecked.

Back to the task at hand, she finally grabs another ice cube. Picking up where she left off, she circles it around his belly button, expertly avoiding his dick. She moves to the side of his body, into the indentations of his hip that she likes to bite at. Then inward slowly, his cock twitches as she gets closer. She keeps this up for a while, melting ice along his hip, lower abdomen and thighs but she won’t touch him where he wants her to the most. She can’t keep up with how many ice cubes have melted across his body anymore.

He moans her name suddenly, begging her to touch him.

She looks up at him pointedly, but his mind and body aren’t communicating at full capacity anymore. His head is pushed back deep in the pillows. She watches as he swallows hard, his chest is heaving, nipples standing out hard against his skin. She thinks about punishing him, he’s supposed to call her one name and one name only on nights like this. But she liked it, she can’t lie to herself in that she doesn't love the sound of her name on his lips, especially when he’s in this state. And so, she moves past it, she pushes one hand up his body, racking through the hair on his stomach and with the other, she brings the ice to wear his cock and balls meet. The noise that leaves his mouth is purely animalistic. His head snaps down to look at her and she smirks up at him.

“Fuck” he breathes. His hips hitch up, looking for any sort of friction.

Slowly, she pushes the ice up along that sensitive vein, and he’s shivering, full body. Her movement pushes another moan out his lips, long and low. It’s fully melted by the time she gets to the tip and so she pushes her thumb against his slit, mesmerized as a drop of pre-cum leaks out.

“Miss please, please.”

“Do you want me to ride you Chris?”

“F-fuck, yes, please Miss, please.”

Nights like this, it’s easy for her to ignore how turned on she is, she has to focus on him and disconnects from her body. But thinking about his cock inside of her slams her arousal into the forefront of her mind. She’s aching with it, panties soaked from how turned on she is. She strips quickly, fully aware of the weight of his gaze on her body. It makes her feel powerful and so she slides her cunt against his cock, echoing his moan this time. She reaches up past his head, grabbing at the quick release knot and freeing his hands. She needs his touch.

He’s on her instantly, hands squeezing at any inch of her he can get to, her thighs, her ass, her breasts. She rocks against him, her breathing is picking up pace, meeting his own. She reaches down between her legs to get a hold of him and guide him into her. He flexes up into her heat, needing more and she sighs when her thighs come to rest against his hips. She’ll never tire of how he feels, stretching her but in the best way possible.

His hands on her hips now but only for something to grab onto. She’s in control. She makes the decision as to how long this is going to last. Rocking forward, she places a hand on his chest for leverage, the other finding her clit as she starts to move on his length. Slow and precise to begin with but it doesn’t take long for the desire to take over.

It builds low in her stomach, amplifying as she moves. She rubs her fingers faster, hips starting to falter, and he knows he can pick up where she’s leaving off. He snaps his hips up into her, watching her finger on her clit, watching himself disappear insider her. It sets his skin on fire.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whines, forehead creased. He doesn’t want to yet, she’s not as close as he is.

“Wait.” She whispers.

Somehow, he finds the self-control to slow his hips. He sucks his thumb into his mouth and then pushes her hand out of the way. He presses his palm against her stomach and flicks his thumb against her clit. She cries out his name in surprise, clenching around his cock and the air leaves his lungs with a rush. She drops her head, hands pressed into his chest.

“Yes.” She hisses, “Fuck me Chris.”

He does.

She cums quickly after that, stars bursting behind her eyes. She feels him cum beneath her, hears him moaning her name, it rings in her ears. She rolls off of him lazily, sweaty and sated. He follows after her, wrapping an arm around her waist and presses his lips against her neck.

“You said my name. Twice.” Her voice is level. She runs her fingers through his short hair, messing it up further. He hums, loving the attention before burying his face further into the crook of her neck.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t hate it,” she muses, and then, “but you should probably be punished for it nonetheless.”

“I think that’s only fair.” He responds, pulling himself tighter against her.

She smacks his ass. Fast, hard and it startles a noise out of him that sounds a bit like a squeal. He pulls back to look at her face and she can’t hold onto the façade any longer. Laughter erupts from her lips and he follows behind her, eyes crinkling. His fingers dig into her skin and he absolutely lights up the room with how big he’s smiling. She thinks she loves him then.

Tagging a few people that showed interest: @lovelytholland​ @worldoftom​ @eleandersen13​ @caturdwy​ @yue-caelum​ @peepeeparkerr​ @bris-sins​ @woyaogaoxing​ @spideypoolfeelz​ @greenorangevioletgrass​