#i love the fact that my thighs make a heart shape when i sit down. i will never fit into majority of the lolita clothes i want in life

[andifthestarsweretodie]

try not to compare my body to that of the 5'4 ish Japanese girl that lives with me challenge (impossible)

[rqnarok]

MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.

— sequel to bed chem but could be read as a standalone!

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. power dynamics. cnc. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 

You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 

This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 

The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.

But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.

The lack of attention and affection.

Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 

All bare and worn out.

You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 

The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  

It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.

That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.

What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”

And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 

On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 

You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 

But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 

He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 

What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 

The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  

By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 

“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.

Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 

“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.

You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 

“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 

Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 

After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.

Something’s up. 

“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 

He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 

The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”

When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 

You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”

He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ your old man?”

“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.

Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 

He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 

He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 

Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 

“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 

“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.

You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 

The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 

“Where d’ya want me?”

You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

In fact, you don’t even know anything…

“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 

No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 

You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 

So then,

“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 

Bingo. 

Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.

He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 

“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 

Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 

“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  

“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 

“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.

“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 

Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 

This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 

He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 

And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 

He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 

“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 

Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.

It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.

You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 

He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”

“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.

Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.

“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”

What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 

His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.

“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 

“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 

Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.

He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 

“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”

And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.

He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.

You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.

Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won. 

[crookedteethed]

BIG SHOT polaroid | e.m.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

Summary: In which you and Eddie have a picture book where you both store your sex pics. <3 💕

Warnings: 18+ Cursing, a little Smut (p in v), Oral (fem receiving), Praise kink, body worship(?), pet names, nudes

Word count: 1k

If you pushed past the mounds of dirty laundry intertwined with disposed candy bar wrappers and a few empty shoe boxes, underneath Eddie Munson's bed lies the picture book. 

The picture book was your idea, but the pictures themselves were all Eddie's perverted idea. 

"Lemme take a picture of you, yeah?" Eddie said, taking a break from his delicious never-ending assault on your clit. Your juices dripped down his chin, some droplets stringing the tips of his hair, his lips all red and puffy covered in slick, and his eyes a little crazed and tinted in admiration. 

He kissed the supple plush of your thigh in a diagonal line; your hands stayed grazing his curls, body supine on the foam of Eddie's mattress. Eddie's lips make love to your thighs, to your tummy, from your breast to your neck, and eventually to your lips; where'd you gotten to taste yourself for the first time.

Eddie quotes Shakespeare. "Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry. Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." He says, glossy lips forming a smile.

"Lemme get a picture of you.” He asks again. “I want to savor my pretty girl in this moment," he says with that boyish smile and those adoring chocolate eyes.

Fuck, those eyes. Even if you were thinking of saying 'no' to Eddie, you simply couldn't. It was the way Eddie's eyes gazed at you every time you made contact. It was as if he was put into a dreamlike trance.

If Eddie had been a cartoon, his eyes and pupils would have turned heart-shaped.

You agreed to the picture, but just one.

Eddie sprung up from the bed, his naked pale body sprinting around the smallish trailer.

You hear a few thuds and ruffling coming from the next room. You imagine Eddie tearing his home apart to find his Polaroid camera.

When Eddie comes back, he returns holding a big-shot Polaroid. He says it was his mother's. He and Wayne don't use it often, so there should be enough film on it.

You try to sit up as Eddie crawls onto the bed, but he lightly pushes you back down, telling you you shouldn't have to move a finger, lie back, and be his muse.

You felt an uneasiness plummet in your stomach as you felt the cold lens of Eddie's mother polaroid aimed at your cunt; it was similar to the feeling you get when your doctor has to check beneath your folds for any signs of ovarian cysts or cancers at your yearly checkups.

And though Eddie had seen your bare cunt a multitude of times (just like your doctor), this particular time made your body shutter. Just as Eddie goes to snap the picture, he notices your sudden twitchiness.

"Hey," he says, palming the plum of your cheek. He lightly pecks your lips. "You trust me, right?"

You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip; of course, you trusted Eddie.

"Good." He nearly mumbles, eyes fixated on your glistening folds.

Eddie resume.

The Polaroid covers half of Eddie's face. With his right eye peeking through the eyepiece and his left eye squeezed tightly, Eddie aims the lens close to your cunt.

He places his thumb onto one of your folds and pulls back on the skin, snapping the picture in one snap. Seconds later, the blackened photo ejects from underneath the film shield.

With a few anticipated shakes from Eddie, the photo started to fade in, and you and Eddie stared at it with wide bug eyes and gaping mouths.

It wasn't the fact that Eddie could date back to this photo and jack off to it later that turned him on. Eddie was turned on because you let him do it; it turned him on even more that you trusted him to do it.

It turned you on because there was something obscure about seeing another aspect of your body, other than your face, on a Polaroid picture. In a way, you felt like you were Eddie's personal playboy bunny.

"Can I take another one?" Eddie asked in a daze, just as you went to ask him to take another, and then another, and then another, until you eventually ran out of film.

Taking pictures of you and Eddie's naked bodies would become almost like an addiction to both of you.

It became a ritualistic practice for you two before sex, grabbing the Polaroid (which now rested on Eddie's bedside table, along with packs of film) and taking turns snapping pictures of one another mid fuck.

Eddie would take the Polaroid from you and snap a picture of his cock plunging into your tight wet cunt; once he has his picture, then you'll take the Polaroid and snap a photo of your foot pressed against his pelvis, just above his happy trail. The cycle would go on and on until you were both covered in Polaroid pictures and cum.

It gets to a point where Eddie's bedside dresser, the current home for your photos, gets filled up, and you both have to resort to putting your photos in a picture book.

Making the picture book would be fun for both of you. You would sit on the trailer's living room floor, surrounded by glue, glitter, and markers; it's like a little arts and crafts project.

It'd be nostalgic for you and Eddie to return to your first photos all those months ago until now.

Eddie gets that gooey mushy feeling, getting wrapped up in the trust and intimacy of the photos--love, he thinks the feeling is called-- watching you watch a picture of yourself with a mouthful of his cock, and scrapbooking secret photos preserved for just his and your eyes only.

Eddie wants to tell you he loves you but doesn't yet; now isn't the right time. So he runs to his room, returning with his mother's big-shot Polaroid camera, and takes a snapshot of you.

[sordidmusings]

Sanji x Reader - Face Sitting Headcanons

A/N: well now I can say I got at least one (1) done so there’s that 💀 happy spooky and smutty month y’all!!! October is a phenomenal time of year I fucking LOVE Halloween with my whole heart; fav holiday hands down. Now back to the fic - like I said in my update, the aim for kinktober stuff this year is to be headcanons! This has those but honestly a lot of it reads more like a bulleted fic cuz I tend to lean to that and I like those too. I see that likely being the case for all of them. I hope you enjoy❣️

Word count: ~1.7 k

Warnings: nsfw, afab reader (I double check but if I missed things denoting fem instead, please let me know!), starts with regular eating out first then gets to the good good, he's somewhere between opla and anime, Sanji is a needy needy man, he’s got a lean towards sub in this, hair pulling, a taste of body worship cuz come on it’s Sanji, a bit descriptive on scent as I tend to be but this one’s sex smell so hopefully that’s your digs cuz it’s def Sanji’s lol, some cheesy jokes at the beginning and end

Now go my lovelies and feed the chef ヾ(●ω●)ノ

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Sanji’s passion for good taste and no waste was something you joked to yourself about him bringing into the bedroom (you’d come to find out it’s no joke)

You thought of throwing a cheesy “hey chef can I serve you dessert” his way a non zero amount

There was also the time he’d been kept from food by circumstance til dinner, where he dug in moaning and “you look so pretty eating like that, can I feel?” sat on the tip of your tongue, but you were afraid if the words got out he’d choke on said meal and the heimlich would really spoil the whole mood

Your general caution of possibly giving the man a heart attack when you fully returned his advances often kept you barely teasing at the boundary where platonic meets romantic and sexual

However, being plagued by thoughts of his face between your thighs, flushed and grasping and moaning and whimpering, was wearing your patience very thin

It was driving your desperation to a level only Sanji ever seemed to reach upon pursuing attention from a pretty face

You were just happy yours was clearly a favorite of his and his eagerness left you with no fear of rejection, just fear that the reality would end up being some awkward jumble that would haunt you so long as you were on the Straw Hat crew

That was a hell you wanted to avoid, especially since Nami would be your own personal demon, tormenting you with teasing reminders of the encounter and the fact you expected anything else from the hopeless cook

When you finally bit the bullet, you realized that you were so so so stupid for having any fears at all

Sanji touched and tasted you like it was his reason for living

Hell, you’re pretty sure he mumbled something along those lines as he kissed and sucked his way up your thigh, but it was trapped as a personal prayer against your body, a pact between him and his new altar

He started sweet and hesitant when you first told him you wanted him to touch you and taste you, a shake of nerves and disbelief in his exploring hands

Once his mouth was on you though - first just the lightest brush of a kiss - raw need bled into his veins and pushed him to press harder, hold you firmer, breathe you deeper, taste your lips and tongue and moans

The stuttering breaths and saccharine praises set your body and heart alight, delighting in your effect on him and the tender names he gave you

“Mon coeur, I’ll treat you right, make you feel divine like you are” “You don’t have to lift a finger, darling, just please let me keep touching you” “Angel, I’ve dreamed of you but -ah- you’re s-so much more of heaven than I could’ve known”

He was all awe borne hesitation yet again when you’re fully naked and he’s stuck inches from your exposed cunt, trying to commit the beauty that shapes your body and curves and marks to memory, his fingers feather-light and twitching where they rest on the crease between your hips and legs

He watched in overwhelm as your entrance flutters around nothing in anticipation, became possessed with the need to feel that against him, around him

He took his time leaning forward with a deep inhale, eyes rolling closed in bliss at the heady smell of your dripping arousal mixing with clean skin and a faint hint of the start of fresh sweat

He reeled himself into the decorum he wanted to show you just long enough to place three loving kisses on you, starting with one on the crease of each thigh, just barely teasing your labia next to his lips with his hot breath, before planting a peck that eases into firm pressure right over your clit

Your breathless call of his name broke him

As he took his first lick of you, easing his tongue first side to side to slide between your folds and let him massage a firm stripe all the way up to then circle your clit, his blissful face turned to scrunched eyes and furrowed brows, showing how his desire and need overwhelmed him to near agony

All reservations were miles from your mind, the only thing you could think about was how well he was playing with and savoring every inch of your cunt

You’d swear he’d been with a hundred women before if you weren’t sure it was just as likely that he’d spent a questionable amount of time studying the female body

Whichever it was, him leaving nothing untouched didn’t mean he didn’t know where to focus - every grip into your thighs and gentle scratch of his short nails, every tease and lick and suck at labia was to highlight his nose pressing your clit, his fingers working you open and curling just right, his mouth lightly sucking at your clit, his tongue swirling at flicking in a dance choreographed by your reactions

It set you in a whirlwind where you forgot everything but his touch and sounds and the steady build of trembles and pulses simmering in your muscles in warning of the way your climax would grip you and have your whole body throb with buzzing heat and wailing bliss

Time even escaped you, but it was still too quick when his head popped up and not just because you could’ve kept him there forever

You would’ve protested but your breath caught at his hazy, half lidded eyes framed by pink, flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Little strands of his bangs clung to the light layer of sweat on his forehead and his panting mouth glistened obscenely with spit and slick

“More” he whispered. His pink tongue darted out to wet his lips from the heavy breaths drying them quickly. The taste had a deep hum vibrate from his chest. “I need you -hhah- I- my love, I need more of you”

You thought he meant he wanted to fuck you but- “On top of me- please” Sanji placed begging kisses to your thigh “I just- please, angel, mon coeur, I-“ his hot cheek pressed into your thigh and he looked at you through his lashes with shining eyes “Will you sit on me- my face?”

Once he’d laid back and you hovered over his face you had a moment of hesitation, despite the ravenous look he burned over your body before settling it eagerly on your pussy

That hesitation left the moment you lowered enough for his lips and tongue to get to you and his hands immediately dug into your hips and dragged you down to drown him

Sanji was even more all-encompassing than before, making sure to get a taste of every inch of you he could reach and relishing in your weight pushing down on him and helping him sink his tongue deeper into you cunt to lap at your clenching walls

He stayed just as vocal as he was before too, even with the sound having to vibrate through you before it got to your ears to leave your head buzzing as heavily as your clit

That was when both of you knew that this had to keep happening come hell or high water

Even once you spend time exploring each other in many, many other ways (Sanji had spent a lot of time brainstorming and you get to enjoy the fruits of his perversion) having you sit on his face remains a favorite

He gets as much pleasure from it as you do - just as vocal, just as reactive, just as blissed out

Sanji always takes his time enjoying you and doing all he can to please you, but it seems to deep the impulse to the point of instinct once he has your cunt clogging all his senses and your weight and warmth embracing him

He will in fact stay there until you tell him you’ve had enough

He always pulls as many orgasms as you’d like from your body, usually letting the first come at a natural and steady crescendo before toying with how fast he can have your thighs shaking beside his head again

On a rare occasion he will draw out how long it takes to make you cum, tormenting you with pleasure that makes your blood rush and your head fuzz but just not quite enough, usually when he’s needing extra attention from you, even if that means getting you to the point of frustration - he needs to know you need him

Feeling your need and feeling surrounded by it and by you is another reason he’s always wanting to be your seat - he can interact with nothing but you and your pleasure and know that it’s from him and you’re here resting your body on him and trusting your needs to him

Sanji’s hands are always very active during sex and this is no exception, he’s always pawing at your hips and thighs and ass, sometimes sneaking long fingers past your entrance to sink in deep while he catches a breath and laps at your clit

He shows you his legs aren’t the only thing on him that’s strong - endlessly pulling you closer even when you try to raise yourself for fear of suffocating him or twitching away when it’s too much in the best way, holding his hands up beside you for you to grab and use as leverage to stay upright and grind, using his grip on you to grind you against his face himself once you’re all spent muscles, made loose and languid from work and pleasure

He also LOVES that having his face buried against you always has you gripping at his hair, the sensation of the light tugging always sends sparks under his skin and he’s addicted to the way it has him feeling possessed and controlled by you when you use it to keep him still or direct him

All in all, it’s one of life’s greatest pleasures for you both and if one day someone asks you your greatest regret, you might not say this one but the answer “waiting to get with Sanji instead of asking him to be my personal throne on day one” will flash in your mind

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed 🤍

[avaf00rd]

Here with me

Leah Williamson x reader

Based off: HERE WITH ME - D4VD

Cried making this. It think it’s just the song anyways.

enjoy

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watch the sunrise along the coast

as we’re both getting old

I can’t describe what I’m feeling

You both sat up against a large rock, sitting on the sand. You somehow managed to get your girlfriend up at this ‘Godly hour’ to see the sunrise. You adored the sunrise and seeing it with your person made it 100 times better.

She rubbed circles and heart shapes on your thighs as she laid in your lap. The orange light already beaming onto her beautiful blonde and perfect features. “You look so beautiful I could cry” you said in an almost whisper to the girl in your lap.

“What?” She smiled, not quite getting what you muttered.

“I said you look so beautiful I could cry” you slightly giggled. It wasn’t a lie, just seeing her face gave you a sense of gratitude, the fact that someone just like her could love you somehow.

She gave you a sad smile. Not in a sad way. But in a way that, what you said got her in her feelings. “I tell you every flipping day but my girl I’ve never seen anyone like you” she said, quickly sitting up so she could peck your lips.

“I love you” you said for maybe the millionth time just since you got to the beach, deciding the quick peck on the lips given to you wasn’t enough, so you pulled her in for a longer kiss filled of love.

“I love you” she said once you had both pulled away. She settled herself to lay back down in your lap “can we just say here forever? Corny I know. But I never want to leave right here.” She said squeezing your hands she held close to her chest.

“Corny but, If I could have it my way I would stay here until we are old and grey”

“Ok Shakespeare” she giggled fidgeting with your fingers

“How is that Shakespeare?” You laughed at the blonde you held close

“You just have a good way with words” you smiled at her words.

“I could go on forever and ever about my love to you” you kissed the top of her head before you both fell into a comfortable silence, eyes fixated on the horizon.

So please don’t let me go

You both sat upright on a bench in the middle of the medical room at emirates stadium. You had just finished your match, that she was earlier pulled off from, when Leah was confirmed she had done her ACL, she knew the second she heard the pop and the pain that rushed thought her knee.

But hearing it straight up from a professional hurt. A lot. You held the girl tightly in your arms, she had completely collapsed into your chest once the medics said they would give you a second and shut the door behind them.

“Oh my girl. I’m with you every step. You’ve got me you’ve got me. Everything is going to be ok I promise you Leah” you reassured the crying girl balled up in your arms. You felt your voice start to crack with your words.

After 5-10 more minutes. Leah felt she had no more tears left to cry. “Baby what can I do for your right now” you asked quietly, kissing her forehead multiple times softly.

“Just don’t let go” she mumbled, you pulled her in even tighter as you held her.

“Never” you said, your chin resting on her head, as Leah sat there in thought.

I don’t care how long it takes

As long as I’m with you I’ve got a smile on my face

“I’m so excited to see you!” You exclaimed through your MacBook screen. You were currently in Australia for camp, Leah wasn’t at England camp as she was still in recovery after surgery.

“Don’t forget that little water bottle” Leah pointed to behind you though the screen, a spare water bottle of yours sitting high up on the window sill.

“Thank you honey” you chuckled after she pointed it out, you grabbing it. You would be heading downstairs to the lobby with almost of your luggage, heading back to London.

“You would not have seen that” she laughed

“Probably not” you said zipping up you carry on properly. “Okay baby I’ll call you on my plane, but I’ve gotta pack my computer and head down now” you said to the computer on the bench.

“No worries. And I’ll just contact you about picking you up. I think I’ve got the right time you’ll land”

“Yay” you smiled at her

“I’ll just wait at baggage and look for the brunette with the beaming smile. And the dark tan” she said motioning to the dark colour your skin developed while being back in your country.

“Love you” you blew a kiss at her through the FaceTime

“Love you more bye” she kissed back before hanging up.

All I know is your here with me

You held your girlfriend’s hand as you dragged her through the hall down to the right cinema. “Here, screen 3!” You said pointing to the large number outside the cinema door

Leah had already seen this movie multiple times, it was supposed to be scary. It was a rerun that they were playing in the movie theatre, you of course took at as the opportunity for a date night.

You held hands once you both get seated, Leah always slightly got annoyed at the large divider between seats at the theatre, which is why she preferred being able to cuddle you for hours in your apartment together whilst watching a movie.

Like most movies, you asked Leah multiple questions, most of them you knew the full answer to and what was going on. But you knew how much your girlfriend loved when you asked her questions in films, it made her happy explaining it to you and made her feel smart.

“Thanks for coming with me. I know you’ve seen it heaps. I just wouldn’t wanna see it with anyone but you” you whispered into her ear sweetly.

“Wouldn’t miss this, you’re the best person to see it with” she said into your ear, before quickly kissing below it.

Just after she pulled away, a jump scare on the large screen in front of you made your heart want to jump out of your skin. Leah quietly laughed at your antics and pulled you arm closer, bringing you head into the crook of her neck.

I wish I could live through every memory again

Just one more time before we float off in the wind

The day you married the love of your life and best friend was a million times better than any other day in your life you name ‘the best day of your life’. You truly could cry of happiness, and you already had, multiple times.

Your kept on having to hold your index finger to the bottom of your eyes as you read your vows, right hand in hand with hers, in front of all your favourite people in your life. But let those tears of happiness fall when she read her vows to you out loud.

You sat down at a table, long white dresses on both you and your newly wife, surrounded by your close families.

“Hey I’m Jacob, Leah’s brother and now y/n’s brother. Although it has always felt like you are a close sister to me since Leah introduced me to you” his words on the short stage made you heart melt. “Before I go on a long speech, not too long don’t panic, I just want to show two lovers a special video made by the people here tonight. We love you” he said slightly bring his champagne glass up towards you, before running to his computer connected to a cord on a projector.

He played a video on the large screen in front of everyone. The video had old vintage love songs as a background tune, as sweet videos of you Leah. Taken by you two and by others played. You immediately leaned into Leah as you both watched in awe. Just so happy. All your favourite memories with you and your wife played from when you first met at Arsenal at the age of 20, to now, as you were wiping tears away for the tenth time.

Then a series of videos played of people congratulating you on your marriage, like other high footballers and other special people in your life, as well as everyone at a table in the large room full of your loved ones.

You both went up and hugged him tightly, tears in your eyes, Leah told him over and over of how grateful for him she is.

Listening to your parents’ speeches and both your siblings of all the memories throughout your journey together made your life feel complete.

But today didn’t fill a piece of your life missing like most would, that last piece was placed in your life the moment Leah first ever said a word to you even years ago.

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Short, but like always I must sleep now

Lyyy!!! Please send in requests🤍

[lazyneonrabbitt]

King and his Queen

Daryl Dixon x Reader | [Pt.1]

After Daryl's match he gets treated like royalty by his loving partner.

Italics are flashbacks. Mild smut-ish at the end

Like clockwork you were down the stairs of your platform and down in the hallway that led to the cage where Daryl slumped against the wall. Out of view from the crowd he didn't have to pretend to be okay after taking a bad hit to the leg. Now he could be hurt and tired, and have you help him across the hall into your livin quarters where you would care for him with the most delicate touches that were like day and night compared to the harsh beatings he got in front of the crowd.

He needed your support to make it all the way into the bathroom where you helped him sit at the edge of the tub where he shifted back into his human form while you reached behind him to run the water and turning back to the sink. You heard the loud clanking of his metal claw tips and fang caps hit the floor as his shape no longer held the form they were made to hold onto.

"Here you go." Your hands held a cup of saltwater solution to rinse his mouth with, the other a container with metal caps to cover his broken teeth.

You watched as he rinsed his mouth and spat the solution back into the cup, handing it back to you to dispose of as he went to click the dentures into place and ran his tongue over the stubby fangs they replicated.

Daryl had never been as hungry as he was now, with the woods rigged in traps that were constantly under surveillance. There was no game left.

A scream caught his attention and he rushed out to the sound, he was in no way or shape against eating humans to survive right now, especially if they're already trapped.

Except the woman wasn't, instead she was cornered by the undead. He couldn't eat infected flesh, he had to go grab her before they did.

Tearing through the small group was a simple task, and the woman was happily thanking him over and over again, nit realising his true intentions until he had her cornered as well. He snarled at her, baring his teeth but was met with a curious stare. "I like your stubby little fangs, they're cute."

He could only grunt in confusion and snap at her, his eyes and fangs now changed and showing he did mean harm. But the loud grumble of his stomach seemed to ruin his scary vibes, and your offer of sharing food had him easily convinced not to eat you just yet.

WIth the tub filling up and your fist aid kid splayed open on the side Daryl felt content. You fed him when he was starving then, and now still tend to his wounds after each match. "M'lucky ta have ya, love."

His eyes were on you where you sat jn front of him, disinfecting the deep cuts on his leg before they fully healed and trapped an infection.

"Still happy you didn't eat me back then?"

With his hand hanging in the soapy water behind him he rolled his eyes at you. "Can still do tha', ya live with a monster, remember?"

You only laughed at him and pat his leg, telling him to go lay in the tub.

The hot water was a blessing for his sore muscles, laying down and letting his skin soak up the warmth.

"Daryl, if you decided to eat me it'd be in bed, with my thighs around your head." An excited hum left the fighter, his brows raised in interest but you quickly shot him down. "Wash up first, then we can get dirty again later."

“Hmhmm, fine.” He slid down further into the tub, only being above the water from the nose up. You took the opportunity to soak his hair and give it a wash, making him sit back up to scrub at his healed over skin. The way he knew your routine by heart made his after match cleaning so much easier, and of course the fact that he trusted you enough to see him fully nude in the tub.

He felt like royalty with how you treated him, holding his ankle in your hand as you took a sturdy brush to his toe claws. The darkened skin of his toe pads and the ball of his foot were always so rough, a lingering wolf feature that became permanent over time.

“Hey, Dee.” Your voice pulled him from his work, skinning a rabbit in your shared tent. “Don’t hate me for suggesting it, but I think I know how we can get a chance at a better life..”

Your current lifestyle wasn’t it. While Daryl didn’t mind the woodsy life, you weren’t adapting well to it and it slowly took a toll on your mental health. But you were living with a werewolf, which brought a lot of good things like having a skilled hunter who brought meat home, and never being cold at night while you cuddled close to him.

“Wha’s the plan, bun? Ya gotta talk ‘fore I can judge.” He had stopped working to listen to your probably insane plan.

“So, I overheard some guys talking about monster fighting—“

“No.” The plan was shot down immediately, without even hearing more of it. “Ain’t gon’ let ya use me as a pet.”

That was, of course, until he was out on a full moon and almost got captured by the men you had mentioned before. He overheard them talking about sedating and selling him as he hid long enough for them to believe he ran off.

It was how he ended up in his shifted form for much longer than he preferred, having to pretend to be a feral beast instead of an intelligent creature.

Even being toweled dry was done gently, careful of any skin that was still red and irritated where healing wounds had just been. Especially his leg still looked angry, the previously bleeding tears now only tinted red streaks of skin, waiting to settle overnight.

You brushed Daryl’s hair after towel drying it, making sure it was detangled entirely before letting him leave the bathroom.

He could feel your lingering stares as he made his way to his stash for some underwear and a robe. Never really wearing many of his old clothes anymore and even having you make adjustments to his current ones.

He knew your eyes were on his lower back, at the end of his spine where his tailbone protruded and shaped an immobile stub that made each and every pair of trousers a hell to wear.

"Quit starin'." The remnants of his beast form barely bothered him anymore. He knew to watch out and not snag his pointed ears when he brushed his hair in the morning, and had given up on shoes and socks a long while ago, going everywhere barefoot now. He didn’t mind the extra fuzz that remained on his legs either. But this one was different. He found it gross and ugly, always hiding it away in loose boxer shorts or underneath a robe.

You on the other hand found it cute how he sported the little tail stub nowadays, always trying to lighten the mood around it by mentioning it could stay a full tail by the end of his next transformation.

Daryl threw on the soft robe and hid himself in it, sitting down on the edge of your shared bed and watched you go get the new supply delivery and put it away before disappearing into the kitchen.

The smell of fresh fruits being cut up filled his nose and had him up to find you in seconds.

His arms wrapped around your waist in a loving embrace as he stuck himself against your back. The scruff on his chin scratched your cheek as he nuzzled you and purred. “Yer bein’ eager with those.”

“Well, I was gonna share with you, but if you’re being a jackass about it I’ll keep it all for myself.” You stuck out your tongue at him and fed him a small piece of apple, which he accepted with a careful bite.

“Would my king like to be fed in bed?” You turned around in his grasp and kissed his chin, wrapping your arms around his neck to get better access. While one hand snaked around your waist once more, the other one went behind your back and grabbed another piece of fruit. “King, huh.” He spoke around the food and moved to squeeze your behind. “Come a long way from bein’ yer guard dog.”

“Name and species.” The grump at the building’s entrance spoke. You had gone through the same process to get into the surrounding part of town already where you were checked bag after bag, every single pocket on your outfit included.

“Dixon. Werewolf.” Your tone was clearly one of boredom, albeit fake, you had to get in there to fight in order to get some food and a sucky roof over your head. Pretending you weren’t desperate was the best plan for now. Daryl listened intently to the conversation being held between you and the man, taking in all the important info without reacting to any of it, having to pretend to have lost most of his human skills in order to be allowed to fight.

After a while of back and forth you were allowed in, on the condition of being escorted to a waiting room, and keeping ‘Dixon’ chained. It was clear from his angry look you were going to get scolded for letting random strangers put chains on him, but for now it all seemed to work.

"This is your temporary room. If you survive today and decide to stay and fight you'll get something permanent." The man who escorted you turned on his heels to move on with his day, but not before muttering some last words. "For as long as your beast lives of course."

Later that day Daryl was thrown into the fighting cage and you were escorted to your spot up high. "Command him from here. You're allowed to head down after the last bell rings."

Down on the floor you saw Daryl, now Dixon, look around at the crowd in confusion and being caugh off guard by the loud voice announcing his fighter name, "and another newcomer" as well. His head snapped back down at the sound of the second door unlocking and revealing his first oponent..

"Yeah, well." You took his hands off you and started towards the bed, taking the bowl of fruits with you. "You're still my guard dog. I can't defend myself for shit." With a wink back to where he stood you turned the corner and disappeared from his view. While your words didn't sound like a compliment, he took them like one and stood there a moment taking it in.

The scene when he rounded the corner was one he'd never get enough of. You had ditched your jeans and top and were now on the bed in sweats and a shirt that hung off one shoulder. The bowl of fruit sat betwden your legs and your back rested against the stupid amount of pillows you kept on the bed. You were on one half of the bed, always making sure there was enough space for Daryl to join you, and he did. He sat down and stretched out beside you, not wasting a second to nudge you and gesture he wanted some fruit.

"Oh, of course your majesty." With a soft giggle you fed him bit after bit, putting pieces between your teeth and feeding him some like that too. You just relaxed and snacked until the bowl was emptied.

The groan that came from beside you reminded gou of the fact you skipped on tending to your precious fighter's aching muscles after the fight.

Putting the bowl aside on the floor you sat up and pat Daryl on the hip. "Roll over, baby. Lemme give you a massage."

With a low rumble deep in his chest he rolled over onto his stomach, his face towards where you still sat beside him with your upper body hanging off the bed to find the bottle of lotion you kept around. He was having a hard time resisting the urge to slap your ass, but he knee better than to risk having you topple off the bed and have him sleep on the couch you barely ever used.

Daryl shivered as the cold ointment touched his skin but quickly relaxed into the matres when your ministrations began. Within the first minute you had him purring beneath you, letting out soft moans and grunts when you worked out tough knots.

"Yer too good fer me, princess." His words came out almost in a moan. You knew exactly how and where to touch him go get all the pretty noises out of him. His back was something you always loved. Before all of this when you could stare for hours as he gutted a deer, watching his muscles ripple under his skin. But nowadays even more with the large wings carved into them.

The words of Dixon claiming the title of King spread fast, and all of a sudden people were challenging him with their own werewolves, believing it was an easy way to win with one in your corner. But obviously it wasn't seeing he still took out each and every one of them.

More and more wolves came in, and with those a whole bunch that sported fur patterns similar to Daryl's, making it difficult to keep them apart as they were at each others' throats.

"We really need to find something to make you easy to identify with all those wolves coming in lately. I swear I almost screamed at the wrong dog earlier.." You huffed and fell on your bed, shooting up only a second later. "Oh! I got something." And then you slumped back down again. "But you'll probably hate it again.."

"Can ya please start tellin' me yer plans 'fore decidin' I'll hate 'em?" Daryl came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. "Remind ya how great this one turned out. Almost livin' the new world dream 'ere."

You had to agree with him. If you ignored the fights to the death every couple of days it was one hell of an upgrade. "Alright, so your wings that you always wore before. What if we get them on you?"

"On me how, exactly?" He turned to look at you, still hunched over the basket of clean clothes to find his comfortable pants.

"There's this guy in town. He does tattoos and scar stuff. I'm sure if we give him a silver tool he can put those wings on you. With sikver they'll scar for sure and you'll always be recognisable."

The huff as Daryl pulled up his pants was almost enough of an answer for you, already admitting defeat when he spoke up.

"Got no fights fer the next two days. We'll go see'em t'morrow. Ain't changin' back now, just took a damn shower."

With each rough shove of your knuckles over groups of sore muscles you got a groan in return. "Yeah, my King loved getting his back rubs."

The satisfied humm that left his lips was enough motivation to keep going, rubbing right above his hips and working at the sore spots. You took some extra ointment and slowly worked your hands over his spine, circling downward ever so carefully, reaching the base of his tail and continued on.

The first reaction you got was a growl, telling you to back off but seeing how he was clawing at the sheets told you a whole different story.

You decided to push your luck and continue down, pressing right where his tail started and earning a pillow muffled moan. You watched him with his face stuffed into a pillow, one claw tearing into it as well. "Fuck girl, why ya gotta do tha'?" He tried so hard to sound annoyed, but in reality he was barely hiding the need for more.

"But my King deserves only the best treatment. And it sounded almost like you were enjoying that." You had leaned down to softly whisper that last bit and give his ear a soft bite and a kiss before moving back up and continuing to rub at his tail. Each pass over his spine earned you a a moan, whine or humm until you found the perfect spot that had him rut into the matres.

The second Daryl noticed his involuntary response he mentally cursed himself. And of course you noticed, giving that one spot extra attention and massaging it exclusively.

"Hhah, stop pleease.." He was a writhing mess beneath you, knuckes white from the death grip he had on the bed and biting down on the pillow to muffle his pleasured sounds. His face colored the same shade of red as the freshly rubbed skin of his back. He could have easily snapped at you, grabbed you by the wrists and thrown you off him but none of that crossed his mind. He was so hard he was ready to cum within a couple more rubs.

His noises got louder and more intense with each movement of your skilled fingers, even if it got more difficult to be precise with the constant thrust of his hips.

"God I love your sweet sounds, so delicious.." It was so good to see another side of him, allowing himself to not be the strong beast for once.

"Shit, bun. M'gonna.." your fingers rubbed his spine just right and his coil snapped. With a long winded moan he finished in his pants, needing a minute to catch his breath before throwing you off him with a grunt. "Ya gon' clean tha' mess ya made now?"

With a soft laugh you agreed to do exactly that. "Anything for my King."

A/N: Man, this took me so long! Apologies for the wait~

[sun-kissy]

for this request: may i have something along the lines of either yn or Sirius was having a really bad panic attack about sh and the other was helping calm down? Sorry if that's confusing it made more sense in my head!

all of it | s.b.

tw: mentions of scars, implicit but not present sh, crying

sirius black x reader

The empty food packets strewn all over the living room must’ve been a testament to how you were feeling. Sirius notices it, and the grimy smell that envelopes your apartment, as he quietly enters and kicks off his shoes.

It gets worse as he enters the hallway, food crumbs and empty bottles of beer littering the floor. He stops short right in front of your door. The place was a mess; he deduced that you were probably the same.

Sirius knocks carefully so as to not frighten you, straining his ears to hear the soft sound of your sniffling.

“Yeah?”

There’s so much pain in your breaking voice, Sirius thinks he can physically feel it cutting through his heart. “Hi baby, it’s me. Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before you let out a defeated “Okay.”

He slowly pushes open the door, eyes searching around the messy room before they finally land on you.

You were all curled up, knees to your chest and chin placed in between as you stared lifelessly at the wall in front of you with tears dribbling down your cheeks. Your hands were slotted under your thighs, and one look at that told him exactly what was wrong.

Sirius makes his way over to sit in front of you, tugging you closer until your knees were smushed between the two of you with his strong arms caressing your back. He rubs it slowly, feeling your T-shirt ride up as he traces shapes on your spine.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. He knows you would want to tell him yourself. “Siri,” you start, your voice nothing louder than a murmur.

“Yeah, love?” he whispers back, head tucked on your shoulder as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“It’s getting bad again,” you choke out, and Sirius feels the tears wetting his shirt. He pulls away slightly to nudge your knees apart until they’re wrapped around his hips, and you’re pressed against him with your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay.”

He lets you sob, and does his best to keep his own tears in. You were weak, so it was his turn to be strong for you.

This was a common occurrence in the process of your healing; which you’d agreed to start when Sirius had first discovered the red lines marring your wrists a few months ago. He’d cried, you’d cried, and a promise was made to help you get better.

You were working hard, but Sirius knew that sometimes the demons were too big to run away from, the days were too gloomy to shine a light upon. Relapses were bound to happen.

And so he continues to hold you as you fall apart, picking the broken pieces up, and having faith in the fact that you’d try your hardest to fix yourself back up tomorrow.

“I thought I was getting better. But today was just… bad. So bad.”

Sirius squeezes you impossibly tighter, swallowing the lump in his throat before he answers. “You are getting better, sweet girl. You are. One bad day doesn’t change the number of good days you’ve been having.”

All he gets is a small guilty croak in response. He tugs on your arms from underneath your thighs, and brings them to his sides.

You feel his slender fingers slipping under the long-sleeved material, hovering over the indents on your wrists. You press your face further into his shoulder shamefully.

Sirius continues to rub your back with one hand, bringing your wrist up to his lips with the other as he gently kisses the new streaks of red. He feels your body shuddering against him, and his heart sinks for the pain he knows is clawing at you.

“Love, listen to me,” he says tenderly, and you feel his breath on your wrist. “Today doesn’t mean anything, okay? You’re so strong for even trying to fight the urge.”

The guilt tears at you, knowing that you had failed to stop yourself once again. “But-“

“No buts, gorgeous. You tried and that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you. So proud that I’m gonna buy you a medal from the dollar store tomorrow.”

He smiles softly upon hearing your wet chuckle, which immediately turns to tears again when he starts to pepper sweet kisses on your other wrist.

“You’re gonna get clean, you hear me?” he whispers as he feels the scars against his lips. “You’re gonna get clean, one step at a time. And I’m sticking with you through all of it.”

A warbled thank you bubbles out of you as he sighs, dropping your wrist to cup your head and bury his face in your hair.

Your hair had a reek to it, he noted. The house was a mess, and your heart was breaking. But Sirius knew there was no way he could love you any more than he did, flaws and all. He was determined to be there for you through all of it, the good days and the bad ones.

[lavendermunson]

dress | steve harrington x fem!reader

+18. theatre date night. fingering, dirty talk. babygirl and daddy as pet names. cum eating.

Steve loves when you take him to the theatre to watch a ‘weird’ movie. There's a few people in the room, he makes you sit down behind everyone, away from the screen but not to far back so you can watch the movie. The reason? he found himself in awe of you when you showed up at your front porch with that tiny dress, when he opened the door for you to get into his car and drive to the mall he watched the bottom of the dress lift up and he could swear he saw your panties,he bit his bottom lip so hard he was able to get a silver taste from the blood.

Now that he has you all by himself in a dark room, his hand starts to get close to your thigh and between your legs, making you squirm. A couple of popcorn got to the floor but you didn’t care much, his hand started to go up as his face got closer to your neck to leave hot pecks and lick your skin ferociously.

Your thighs close involuntarily when his fingers get to the newest but familiar wet spot on your panties, you can feel his smirk on your neck because he never stopped kissing you. He starts rubbing your clit making the wet spot bigger.

"Such a needy girl, aren't you" he gets so turned on by your soft an quiet moans "Oh yes be quiet babygirl, i don't want you interrumpting the movie" his raspy voice makes your toes curl, your legs open up as his fingers move your panties to the side and his kisses go up to the soft spot of your neck, right under your ear "Needy baby, feels good?"

"Stevie, p-please" you go shy on him, mouth parted and unable to speak up at the same time your cheeks grow red and hot.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Finger me, please finger me”

His smile gets bigger, sending a warning signal to your tummy.

"Baby, baby, baby" he shakes his head "you are a fucking dream"

His fingers play with your wetness for a couple of seconds and he digs two digits into you, moving them in and out of you with a slow pace.

"F-fuuuck" your words come out as a whisper, he gets even more frustrated and he starts to curl his fingers inside you, making your dripping cunt feel like burning.

"You are so hot baby, look so pretty too" he whispers in your ear as you moan quietly, the thought of being in a public space was so hot "you wish it was my cock, princess? you can say it and i can flip your word in an instant"

"Y-yes, i- wish it was your oh fuck cock" you slurred your words, your chest coming up and down as you try to breath but it was impossible. Steve knew how to get you whimpering for him, talking dirty sweet nothings while he fingers you silly and kisses your neck. He starts to rub your clit with this thumb, making sure you feel as good as ever.

Your back melts in the seat, your mouth a perfect shaped "O" he sees you and his eyes turn into hearts, you are the prettiest girl he has ever seen and the fact that you let him all sorts of hot things to you drives him crazy. His hand reaches your jaw, holding your head up and squeezing your cheeks with his fingers.

"I’m going to c-cum, p-please oh daddy let me cum" a new hot wave of air comes at you, jolts of energy circle back and forth from your tummy to your pussy, the back of your neck sweating as you try to hold on.

"You can cum babygirl, do it for daddy" as your body relaxes you he squeezes your face harder, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you untie the knot on your stomach releasing all your cum in his hand "dirty little baby, you are doing so so good"

Steve gets his fingers out of you and tries to collect every drop, he takes his fingers to his mouth and sucks his hand, the squeaky noices of his saliva mixing with your juices makes you even more horny. He cleans himself and locks eyes with you while doing it, this man is going to be the death of you.

"Baby, you did so good" he takes your hand and pulls you into his chest, you sit on his lap while he runs a hand through your back and gives you a calm massage. Your legs still shaking, he notices it immediately "you okay?"

You hide in the crook of his neck, rubbing your nose against his skin.

"I want you to fuck me"

He takes no time in getting up, you follow him as you run towards the exit of the theatre and into the parking lot.

"My seats fold all the way back"

"Perfect"

—

little blurb because im hot and high lol. didn’t even proofread but ill do it in the morning 🥰 stay tuned for part two

[nxathyx]

Chuuya dating headcannons!!

This is my first time writing anything so it's probably shit

Trigger warning: swearing, Chuuya is absolutely smitten😭, slight mentions of aftercare, there's seperate parts of reader being picky, intimate settings, the reader has mentioned female anatomy in one part

I think it's a generally known fact in the fandom that Chuuya is romantic. Personally I feel like his love language is acts of service, so it'll mainly revolve around that.

So with Chuuya being a true romantic at heart you can probably expect a lot of fancy restaurant dates or just him cooking something nice for you two while you drink some wine

However if you are a picky eater I feel like he'd just make himself something fancy, and make you something simple like pancakes, or whatever it is you like <3

I can imagine him just randomly calling at like 9pm and saying "I'll pick you up in an hour".

After he picks you up he takes you to the fanciest restraunt

Once again for all my picky eaters (love y'all)

If you wouldnt like anything on the menu he'd just take you to McDonald's and get you whatever you want, it's all on him

You want a happy meal? Sure darling

You want that's humanly possible to get at McDonald's? Say less

He'd probably think you're so cute and silly if you got yourself a happy meal (the toys are shit now)

Sometimes the workers offer you like those papers you just colour in and since Chuuya is competitive as fuck he'd have little competitions with you

Although Chuuya is quite the romantic i also feel like he'd adore very chill settings, just being sprawled out on the bed with you in his arms or him in yours

Chuuya doesn't have a preference when it come to boobs or ass, he loves both, no matter the size!!

If you have big breasts, he'd be okay with holding them for you, not even in like an intimate way

Imagine you're just laying down, your back against Chuuyas chest and he puts his hands under your shirt and just gently cups your chest

As for ass he'd just randomly slap your ass

Like you'll be cuddled up with him, your leg over his body slightly as you two are just discussing something and he slaps you right above your knee, but it doesn't hit

Reader: that was shit,like that was so bad im actually embarrassed for you

Chuuya: yeah, whatever

And then he slaps your ass and you just glare at him

This man always asks for consent and is very strict about boundaries!!

I feel like Chuuya would like a soulmate who he can be lovey dovey with, whilst insulting each other or something, someone who has a sense of humour

You two are just cuddled up first calling each other petnames till they get worse and worse, than it turns to insults and then inatiment objects

For example

Darling > pookie > bitch > home depot floor board

Or some random shit like that

I feel like he enjoys being little spoon, it makes him feel safe.

For aftercare I feel like he'd let you cool down from your high, go get you some water and a towel if you're to exhausted to actually bathe

If not he goes to prepare a nice bath for you two to just lay in, I feel like he'd be resting his head on your chest as his fingers run shapes and sizes on your upper thighs and hips

I feel like he'd be your gossip buddy. Like you two just go and sit in the bath, with two wine glasses some wine a few candles and just gossip about everything and everyone

He loves when you play with his hair but he prefers playing with yours

For petnames I think he'd use the very classy ones, like love, darling, honey an occasional doll or dolly

I don't know why but I think he'd love getting called Spanish petnames, like mi amor, mi vida, cariño ect.

Man's is smitten for you and will do whatever you want

I feel like once he made you dino nuggets at like 4am

He takes amazing photos of you, you look like an absolute god/goddess

Deep talks at night!!

You two would just be sitting on your balcony or porch, with maybe some snacks and drinks and you just talk about life and all it's struggles

If Reader is from the agency he'd try to keep your relationship a secret for as long as possible

I feel like you two would be parental figures for like Akutagawa and Kenji (i adore that one interaction im not sure if it was fan made or not but yes)

Overall great boyfriend 10/10

[paladin--strait]

Could a fluff Hughes brothers fic

here's a little something for you 🤭 sorry it's short

-

jack sits beside me at the dinner table, holding a fork in one hand and his other hand is on my thigh. he's talking to his mom, who's sitting across the table beside her husband.

i love having dinner with the hughes family. the amount of love they have for each other is evident by the way they treat each other.

luke laughs some joke that he can't finish telling us.

quinn stares down at his food, almost like he's tuned everything around him out, but we all know he's listening.

mrs. ellen looks at her husband, happy that their family is back together, even if it's only for a few days.

mr. jim looks at her the same, but he pairs it with this laugh that lights up a room.

and jack, he smiles at me, thinking in his mind that he's happy i'm here with them.

i've become part of the hughes family and i could never be happier. jack is the best boyfriend ever, even though i haven't had many, i just know he's the one.

the way he looks at me when i do something stupid, it's a look of happiness mixed with love and laughter. i don't think i could ask for a better boyfriend than jack, he's perfect.

the way he treats his family, my family, his friends and teammates, it makes me admire him even more. when i see him interact with a young fan, my heart jumps with excitement at the fact that i might have a child with this man someday.

the way he treats children is unmatched. he talks to them excitedly, asking them all sorts of questions about hockey. i love to see they way his face lights up when a fan tells them he's their favorite player.

when i see the look on his face and the twinkle in his eyes, i know something's up. but a week later, when i see him down on one knee, with a ring in a little black heart shaped box in his hand, smiling up at me, i know what he was planning that night in his head.

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ Huh? What?- k.gb

♡ sypnosis: your childhood friend gyubin had managed to bribe you into being his date to an all exclusive couple’s christmas frat party, but you know more than anyone present that you don’t belong there. the way gyubin’s been eyeing you the whole night, the slight touches here and there; the way your heart beats fast in your chest in response—none of it belongs because you’re just supposed to be friends—right?

♡ genre: fluff, slight angst? suggestive, childhood bestfriends to lovers, crack, college au, older reader,

♡ 5.3k word count

♡ warnings: suggestive, sexual innuendos, drinking mentioned, cussing, insecure reader, please let me know if there’s any you’d like me to add!

♡ nano note: hello loves! this is my first au post on here! i hope you enjoy my writing and rendition of gyubin!! also please don’t mind the fact that it’s written for christmas! i know im late rip. xoxo

It didn’t make any sense.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, nothing ever did as of recent. Parties were never your thing, so what exactly were you doing here?

You sat awkwardly on a strangers couch, your childhood bestfriend’s thighs pushed extremely close to yours as Christmas club-remixed songs blare through an expensive surround sound system. This made it impossible for you to hear conversations right in front of you.

It’s dim inside, only christmas string lights on a nearby christmas tree and on the spiral staircase give off an expensive glow—it makes you feel increasingly more poor as time ticks on.

“Okay guys! Squish together! Time to play some games!” Someone yells as more people struggled to fit on the couch and floor space around you.

You can’t help but glare at your “friend”, eyeing their neck because wow, you suddenly have the urge to strangle someone.

Today might be the day.

“Alright, ladies and gentleman! Let’s go ahead and start the game!” The party host yelled through their stupid karaoke makeshift microphone—you side eye them for their sobriety.

The egg-nog was spiked.

The hot cocoa was definitely not made with milk.

No liquid here was safe.

“Alright guys, we are going to play telephone! A very fun and unique sentence is going to be said on this side of the room, then the person to your left will whisper it to you to the best of their ability only once! If we can make it to the other end of the room with the same sentence being spoken, we have mini Jell-O shots in the shape of Christmas trees and snowmen that we can pass around! Lets start!” They say excitedly, as the eyes of the drunkards around you sparkle in delight.

Suddenly your best friend, yes the one sitting to the left of you, leans towards you to whisper out of concern.

“Are you alright? You good? Do you want to go get some fresh air?” Gyubin whispers, thick lips brushing the slightest bit against your ear lobe.

You feel you’re going to go insane.

The game hasn’t even started, but his face was already so fucking close to yours, and you swore you felt his breath down your neck.

“I-I’m fine Gyub. I’ll play.” You nervously let out, eyes never meeting his and hoping you could sink into the floor.

You feel his worried eyes on you for just a second before he’s placing his big hand on your knee.

“Remember when you fell at school that one time and almost broke your kneecap?” He whispers playfully, hand going to pat your leg in an attempt to get your mind off the current crowded area.

You roll your eyes and smack him on the shoulder, a nervous smile making it’s way to your lips.

“Shut up.” You muster as he giggles, eyes crinkling by the corners in a way that somehow calms you down a notch.

“Hey!- I carried you all the way to the infirmary and you still haven’t said thank you..” He teases, head tilting closer to make sure you can hear him.

You feel a blush surface on your face and decide to reason to yourself that it’s due to the close proximity of the pretty stranger to the right of you.

Definitely not because of your childhood best-friend on the left.

You were going to be sick.

Well, why did you even agree to come to the party? one might be asking…

You were forced!

Forced I tell you!

By none other than your idiotic and pest of a bestfriend that’s currently breathing down your neck right now.

Apparently this Christmas frat party happened every year and it had a strict policy that was enforced; bring a date.

Now, Gyubin was quite the character on your college campus; he was one of your only friends but the opposite could be said for him. He was a popular guy who was part of multiple committees and even played on the official varsity basketball team that your university was widely notorious for. He wasn’t a star player by any means, but he definitely knew and even roomed with them. His friend group were some of the cutest guys on campus too.

And your anti-social and loser ass just had to be born to his Mother’s best friend a few years before he was.

It was like every trope ever; two best friends grow up and have children that they would practically raise together in hopes that one day they’d fall in love and get married. This was the only way that they could finally have the right to officially call each other family.

It was a nightmare and you were handed the short end of the stick, but Gyubin, as annoying as he was, grew on you over the years.

You were older and always wiser, but one year he’d caught up to you in height just to surpass you completely a year later.

He’d use his height to his advantage to throw you around and mess with your things when he and his mother would visit your house, but he was also the one to fend off your bullies in highschool and carry you to the infirmary that one year when you nearly busted your kneecap at school.

He had always looked out for you, just like you had done for him.

Soon enough college came around and he was able to skip a grade and enroll into college a year after you. Suddenly, he was all grown up.

He was eye-candy for the girls on campus, and you’d always noticed the way they’d glare at you when he and his friends stopped you at school events.

Oh, he always had a girlfriend too.

But this year…something was different.

He was…single.

And now he couldn’t go to the notorious party that he attended every year.

So naturally, it was easy for him to persuade you into going with him—something you never thought you’d let happen.

All the really cool people were here; the smart girls, groupies of the sports players, people in incredibly short red skirts with the fluffy white lining on them—yeah, those one’s—you definitely didn’t belong here.

Parties were never your thing.

But Gyubin had promised he’d help you with your capstone for English or that he’d get one of his smart friends to help you. There was also the three weeks of meals he’d agreed to buy for you, but right now showing up as his date and forcing yourself to look like you were interested in Gyubin made your stomach churn with something you were very scared of.

He’d taken it all too seriously, asking you to match him with your outfit in silver and black—calling you pretty when you got in his car in the too short dress that you knew was never meant for the middle of the winter.

He’d put his arm around you whilst having to get cleared to walk into the lavish gates at the front of the property and you couldn’t deny yourself of the fact that he smelled too good in the cologne you’d gotten him for his birthday a while back.

You swore he rarely wore it despite him telling you it was his favorite cologne now, but today it was like he was drenched in the scent—and you hated that you liked it.

It had been a tense hour of mingling and being side-eyed by the girlies who lingered around some of the sports players, but things really started to change pace when more alcohol was passed around and the people who clearly came with a fake filler date started to gather on the makeshift dance floor in the center of the large living room.

You were scared out of your mind that Gyubin would leave you alone for the opportunity to mingle on the dance floor, but the opposite happened.

He stayed right by your side the whole time, even getting his pretty friend, Ricky, to help drag you into the crowd to dance.

It wasn’t long before your frown and knitted brows were softened and Gyubin was grabbing onto your hands; flailing them for you in order to get you to dance.

He laughed and laughed and in turn, the way your body awkwardly wiggled got a laugh out of you too.

Not even twenty minutes later and suddenly the DJ was urging everyone over to the couches to play games, and what do you know; your anxiety was back and worse than before.

“Alright!” The host starts, taking your mind out of your nerves and back on the expensive velvet sofa.

“Let’s start with you Jiwoong, I’ll whisper the phrase to you, then pass it on to Jina.”

You watch as the game starts, the smile on Jiwoongs face brightening as he is told the secret phrase.

“This game kind of sucks, should I tell you the wrong thing on purpose?” Gyubin whispers to you, sending you a cheeky smile.

“No! I have to talk to the next person and if you make me say something stupid I will strangle you.” You mumble, sending him another death glare.

He chuckles as his hand raises to ruffle your hair.

You go to elbow Gyubin, but are interrupted when the person to the left of him taps his shoulder.

She’s pretty; long black wavy hair framing her face in a way that gave off this elegant vibe.

You take note in the way she leans in and shields her lips to whisper to Gyubin insinuating flirtation; exposing more of her cleavage and making the guys watching from across the room salvate at the mouth.

Men.

Gross.

But what about Gyubin?

You eye the way he nods at her, almost unfazed at her touches on his shoulder and flirty demeanor.

Hmm.

Interesting.

Once his little bird brain had heard and comprehended the phrase, he shoots her the ‘okay’ gesture with his fingers and turns to you with a wide playfull smile.

You blush against your will, very aware of the many eyes currently on you.

(Definitely not because of his wide ones.)

Still, you squint your eyes at Gyubin in warning as he leans in. His hand comes into contact with the side of your cheek to whisper in your ear.

Your breath hitches when you feel his breath back near the side of your head, and you internally curse yourself to pay attention so the game runs smoothly.

“Seok Matthew has a big sack, Myung Jina is mommy—and i saw mommy kissing Santa Clause.” Gyubin whispers, rendering your brain foggy at the spicy information that you were being told.

If you remembered correctly, Jina had a longtime boyfriend, and Matthew was a new exchange student. Your eyes widen as you turn your face to search Gyubin’s for confirmation.

Gyubin’s eyebrows are raised, eyes wide, as he nods his head back at you with the most sincere look on his face. It was as if he were saying; “I’m just telling you what i was told. I can’t make this shit up.”

“Hey! You two! You only get one shot! Pass the message on.” The host says, pointing you and Gyubin out. You nod shyly but squint your eyes at Gyubin in suspicion as you turn to the handsome guy next to you.

He smiles and leans your way for you to whisper the secret, and the way dent-like-whiskers adorned the apple’s of his cheeks had you feeling even more blushy.

He was cute—and you weren’t sure you wanted to tell him this phrase.

When you lean in towards the stranger, you’re completely oblivious to the furrowing of brows on Gyubin’s face.

“Merry Christmas, Drinks at the game next week are on Seok Matthew.” You decide to whisper.

The pretty whiskered-boy looks at you with his own eyebrows raised, quite excited over the possibility of free drinks.

You chuckle and gesture for him to pass the message along, to which he does.

Just as you feel a tap from your shoulder from Gyubin, another swarm of people emerge from the backyard. There’s then a push for everyone inside to squish in further.

Your heart starts beating at the sudden movement, both of your legs pushed up against two men that you find oddly attractive. What? No. No you don’t.

“Alright people! If you can, please find a lap to sit on!” Says the host, and your neck immediately snaps over to Gyubin in shock. He seems to have the same reaction, his face morphing into a shocked expression of his own.

You shake your head at him before turning your face when you feel whiskers to your right tap your shoulder.

“Uh- I don’t mind if you sit on my lap—Oh my god! That sounds terrible, I-I promise I’m not trying to be weird-“

Whilst you fidget and blush, mind racing to figure out if this is your cue to make a run for it, Gyubin’s big hands are suddenly pulling you toward him.

“That’s okay, she’s with me.” He says firmly, cutting whiskers off with the most fake smile you’ve ever seen him plaster on his face.

You feel your ears burn and before you know it—

“Gyubin! What are you-“

In seconds you are being pulled onto Gyubin’s lap, his right hand grabbing your arm to guide you towards him and his left landing on your waist to sit you down.

Your eyes widen.

Was this really happening?

“Just sit here for the end of this round and then we can find space outside.” Gyubin whispers from behind into your hair, his hands going around your waist and touching his own elbows as he nonchalantly pulls you close.

You feel your tongue go numb.

Your brain was drained of it’s contents—thought process disappearing like it’d been stolen by a thief in the night.

y/n.exe has stopped responding.

And oh man, Gyubin was so glad that you couldn’t see how pathetically happy he was right now.

He could feel a blush creep up the nape of his neck, but he didn’t care. You smelled like cotton candy and vanilla and he had lowkey wanted to engulf you into his arms all day.

He just couldn’t help it; your shy and anxious frame had his stomach doing backflips all day and it had caused him to continuously question himself on whether or not this whole thing was a good idea.

Yes, he took a chance and asked his best-friend out, and yes, he knew that it was under the guise of him just being able to get into the party, but man oh man, being able to see the faces of the guys around him and prove that he was able to get you here as his date was priceless.

It was like an unspoken thing; most of Gyubin’s friends knew of his infatuation with you because of how much he’d go on tangents and unprovoked story-times of you.

It had been almost half-a-year since they’d practically smacked him upside the head with the realization that maybe he was in love with you?

Yeah.

And it took a whole month for him to finally approach you and ask you to be his date.

Did it go exactly how he planned it to go?

No.

Because now he owed you food for three weeks and had to get Zhanghao to write your English paper—but the most heartbreaking thing of all?

You thought that he was using you.

You think that he asked you to go with him because he wanted to attend this stupid party—which was only half true—but his intentions were, shockingly, pure.

He’d been in his head for weeks because he hadn’t been going after girls like he usually would as his eyes were completely set on you, and now here you were sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped around you—Ooh if this wasn’t what a winner felt like, Gyubin wasn’t sure what was.

Kind of.

He did see the way you bit down on your bottom lip nervously, your pupils shaking anxiously because of the crowds.

He saw the way you flushed when Ricky had shown up and urged you to dance.

And he saw the way you looked at Hanbin who sat next to you, completely mesmerized by his kind demeanor.

If you weren’t currently in his arms at the moment, he’d still be in his head thinking about how all that you seemed entranced by, and all that you yearned for, was everything he wasn’t. Plus, that you were super uncomfortable on top of it all.

But that was thirty-five seconds ago, and right now he felt this whole thing was going quite delightfully in his favor.

“Alright! It seem’s that during the move we managed to get to the end of the telephone line!” The host rings out cheerfully, “Now Chungsoo! Please tell us what the message is!”

You and Gyubin’s eyes are anywhere but on poor Chungsoo.

All you can think about is Gyubin.

The way his arms hold you firmly; the way his laugh rings so close to your ears when one of his friends crack a joke from the other side of the couch.

Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before and the way it jammed against your chest in a solid beat let you know that you were, in fact, crazy.

Do I…?

Like Kim Gyu—

“You know it’s Christmas when Kim Gyubin pulls another girl we’ve never seen before. This time we have a cougar.” Chungsoo says.

Your eyes snap over to the owner of the voice that resonates in the now quiet room as you feel Gyubin’s arms softening from around you. It’s only quiet for a second however, because as soon as everyone inside grasps what was said, you hear some ‘ooooh’s’ along with bouts of snickering laughter.

You feel your cheeks go hot, but this time its a sickening feeling when mixed with the metal taste salvating in the inside of your mouth as you resist the urge to cry on the spot.

“That’s not even funny-“ Gyubin starts, voice booming from behind you in a tone that you knew meant he was angry, but you don’t have the heart to stick around any longer because you were really going to be sick.

Within seconds you’re up on your feet and smacking Gyubin’s hands away as they try and grab at your torso.

“Wait!“ He calls out as you make your way through the crowd of eyes staring at your fleeing frame.

You feel them.

You feel it.

Shame.

Pity.

Everyone’s amusement, all at your expense.

You feel another crash of embarrassment take over you and it fills your tear ducts with moisture as you take in the gazes everyone is sending you.

It’s not until you’ve made your way outside where the cold air that hits your skin free’s you from your sickness.

You take a deep breath, walking out to the side of the house where only a few couples could be found making out here and there.

It’s there where you find a small area of secluded wall that you decide to lean on in order to try and catch your breath. You just wanted to do anything you could to stop yourself from letting any tears fall.

This is so embarrasing.

You knew you shouldn’t have come.

And what the fuck?

Who was out to get Gyubin?

Was he in on this?

Would he stoop this low?

Did you have feelings for your best friend who clearly didn’t like you in that way?

If he did want to interfere in your two’s friendship, was this a shot at making you one of his flings?

Where was the nearest shooting range?

You feel a couple tears slip down your face and a shiver runs down your spine as you finally register the cold, but the sight of Gyubin searching for you is what takes most of your attention away from your own thoughts.

When he turns his head your way and his eyes meet yours, your lips quiver without your permission. Once he starts walking over to you with the most worried expression plastered across his face, something in you switches.

“Sorry, I don’t know why the fuck they would say that, are you okay-“

“Gyubin, do you like me?” You question, tone dead and eyes borring into his soul.

You were tired.

“What? Don’t listen to them, they-“ Gyubin tries to reason, hands outstretched and reaching for yours.

“So you don’t? I knew I shouldn’t have come here with you.”

Gyubin feels his heart shatter.

You regret this.

You regret him.

Is this the part where you tell him you hate him?

“No! Stupid, I like you. Like…like like you. I asked you to come with me because I….I have feelings for you.” Gyubin finally lets out, tired of all the games.

His gaze holds yours and you can feel his worrisome sincerity.

He was worried.

Why?

Was he thinking the same thing you were?

You were older.

You two were best friends.

You’d known eachother your whole lives.

You didnt know what life was like without eachother.

Could your feelings fuck with that?

Was this a mistake?

Did Gyubin just lose you?

You search his eyes back and forth, hoping that there you would find the speck of mischief that they’d always contained.

Was this a joke?

Was this all a big fucking joke?

Meanwhile, Gyubin couldnt help but read you like a picture book.

He watch as you searched him for his sincerity, and yes, he knows that he isnt a serious person at all, but damn, he really does like you.

He’d almost go as far as to say that he was in love with you.

He liked you so much and it scared him because, in turn, he saw the way you searched his eyes with a fear of your own.

And just like that, he figured that very fear was enough.

It was enough to assume that there was a possibility.

There was a possibility you loved him maybe a little bit way deep down inside; a possibility that you saw him as more than a friend—that you saw him as a man.

He’d already spoken his feelings, he’d already ruined the friendship.

Fuck it.

“Gyubin….“ You start, words failing to form, but all his name does is linger for a second in the quiet before he’s rushing towards you.

Before you could process, he’s pulling you close, one hand finding your waist and the other finding your jaw.

“If you don’t say anything in three seconds I am going to kiss you.” He states, big eyes staring clear into yours with a purpose.

So there you are, your face closer than ever before to his—and cotton candy and vanilla fills Gyubin’s senses.

One.

You don’t dare to move despite your inner monologue begging you to save the only genuine friendship you’d ever known.

You don’t move a muscle.

Two.

Gyubin’s eyes continue to search yours, a hopeful light shining in them as the milliseconds pass by.

You can feel his hand shake for a split second, and in an effort to hide it, he goes to brush strands of your hair from your face.

Three.

You flinch your eyes closed, bracing for possibly the worst and best moment of your life.

And it’s sweet.

He presses his lips against yours for just a second, but it’s sweeter than your perfume, Gyubin notes.

Your lips are soft and plush, and Gyubin feels he’s about to grow wings and ascend up into the sun to die a very warm death.

You were perfect.

The moment he pulls away, he’s scared to open his eyes, but when he finally does you’re already staring back.

“Gyubin- we- we’re- we’re supposed to be friends…” You mumble incredulously, almost like you’re trying to grapple with what just went down.

Did Kim Gyubin just kiss you?

Did you just like it???

“Right? We came here as best friends so-“ You reason.

Gyubin’s not going to lie, he feels like the sky is closing in on him.

But he knows you enjoyed it.

You didn’t stop him.

There was no hesitation too, right?

Right?

“Really? Because I’m not really 100% sure, but last time I checked, best friends don’t kiss.” Gyubin states simply, eyeing you whilst he kind of loses it inside.

He never backs up, and now that your back is pressed against the white brick wall behind you and you have nowhere to run, his hand leaves your face and finds it’s way next to your head.

He leans in again before you can gather your thoughts to respond to him, then he dips his face very close to yours.

You feel his breath fan your face for only a second whilst you watch his eyes falter from yours and glance at your lips.

His cheeks are rosy now; his pupils are dilated and you swear you see a smile for just a split second before his lips are on yours again.

It’s almost like he waits for you to react, because for what feels like an eternity, neither of you move.

Gyubin laughs against your lips before pulling his lips apart from yours, but then he dips back in to peck your bottom lip a couple times.

It feels new.

It feels…right.

You move your own lips in accordance with his for a second, but as soon as your eyes flutter open to meet his in an effort to read his demeanor, his lips detach from yours completely.

“…and friends don’t kiss back.” He finally whispers, shooting you a pretty playful smile before he hangs his head down bashfully, cheeks on fucking fire.

You feel your face flush, and you just know you have to be changing colors because, what the fuck?!

You immediately smack Gyubin’s chest whilst your other hand goes up to shield your face.

“Aye, Stop playing with me Kim Gyubin.” You mutter out furiously, completely taken aback at his smoothness and the fact that you had basically just made out with your best fucking friend.

Gyubin’s chuckles start slow when they fill your ears as he stares at the ground, but when you catch a glimpse of his pretty face, the chuckles turn to a full on fit of laughter.

“I really can’t with you right now, you’re sooooo cute~” He mumbles through his laughter, leaning back in and grabbing your hands away from your face so he could peck your lips one more time for good measure.

You blush madly at this.

Who the hell does this punk think he is?

“Stop laughing- and stop kissing me!” You plead, trying to put on an angry face but failing miserably as he continues to laugh at you.

“No.” He says nonchalantly as he gathers himself and leans down to kiss your cheek, practically squishing your cheek in the process.

“Ahhh! What are we going to do with you? Hmmm?” He asks, bending his vowels and talking down to you like he always has.

You smack him away again, but it’s all in vain effort because he takes your arms and wraps them around his own waist for you.

“Just hug me, loser. It’s time to think of ways to break this news to our mom’s.” He says, swaying you both back and forth against your own will.

You can’t help but just be glad that your face is stuffed into his chest as you turn ripe like a tomato—the thought of your mother’s finding out about this makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“We’re not telling them! What do you want to tell them? ‘Hey mom! We’re home! Oh! By the way, we kissed!?!?” You reason incredulously into his chest.

This causes Gyubin to laugh even more.

“No! We have to tell them that we’re dating now. Let’s keep this particular situation a secret please—your dad won’t be too happy to hear it.” He says, taking your arms from around him and urging you to detach yourself. You slowly let go and make some distance between you both, titling your head towards him in confusion.

“Dating? Me and you? Haa!” You laugh out, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine for once. You watch as Gyubin pouts, his tall lanky form sulking as he quickly lets go of your two’s intertwined hands.

“Wow, just gonna go and break my heart already? Should’ve known.” He states, walking away from you as he fetches his keys out of his back pocket.

“Yup! You should have known. I kind of have a line of men just waiting to date me, so you should skip to the back.” You say, following after him and down the driveway so you both can escape the sprawling property.

It was time to leave.

“Wow…well lucky for me, I can just call your mom right now and tell her that we’re finally together and that her daughter’s already cheating on me. Then what?” He asks, turning his body to walk backwards as he eyes you.

You blush in response, rolling your eyes to show him you’re completely unfazed by his words; it’s then that you notice your muavey-maroon lipstick had left a stain on Gyubin lips, making him look extra pretty. You snort to stifle your laughter as you eye him up and down; and for the first time ever in your presence known to you, Gyubin goes shy.

“Why are you looking at me like that? What are you laughing for? Is the thought of dating me that bad?” Gyubin questions, sending you an almost hurtful look as he stops walking, lanky slenderman frame sulking in the cold.

You chuckle and stop walking too, leaning just close enough to grab him by his belt loop and pull him closer.

Gyubin feels his heart burst in his chest.

Never in a million years did he think you’d do that to him.

New kink unlocked.

You chuckle at his blushy cheeks and rise up on your tippy-toes to wipe his lips with the pad of your thumb.

It takes a few swipes before it makes a difference in color, but when you look up from your thumb and back up at Gyubin, he’s staring down at you with this puppy-like look; eyes saying more than you could ever comprehend.

You know…that look.

You can’t help but laugh as you snatch the keys from his grasp and walk down the hill to the gate that you had entered just a few hours ago. There’s a second of internal reflection—the turns had tabled so quickly through the night.

But you were excited.

“Come on Gyub, I want a Baja Blast, tonight was very stressfull.” You state plainly. This garners a pretty laugh from him as he jogs up beside you.

He’s quick to scoop your hand up and intertwine your fingers, sending you an amused smile.

“Yes ma’m, whatever you say.”

Gyubin’s feels a weight lifted off his shoulders.

He feels that maybe the party was semi-worth it given that you had ended up actually his…

But fuck.

He still owed you food for three weeks. Maybe he could persuade you otherwise with kisses.

Maybe.

And just maybe, he could get you to come back to the party next year to prove everybody wrong.

You were here to stay.

“Y’know, now that we’re together, I don’t think you should ever wear that dress out in public again. Also you can’t be friends with Hanbin-hyung, I forbid you!!” Gyubin demands, half joking half serious with his goofy wide eyes.

You eye him up and down one more time before he unlocks the car door for you to hop in.

“Kim Gyubin, kiss my ass-“

“Gladly-“

“Huh?”

“What?”

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[heresthestorymorningglory]

This Must Be The Place

Summary: Lars is ready for more

A/N: This came about after talking with my darling partner in crime <3

Lars x afab reader <3

As per usual, (Yep Lars crossed into that territory) it's NSFW 18+ @ken-dom as always my darling, I thank you for your support and inspiration and late night chats.

Enjoy my loves <3

His heart slammed hard in his chest, but this was nothing new, you had been on plenty of dates together.

But this one was special, he reasoned, this one had to be perfect. 

It was your six month anniversary; your fanciest dress, he had said when you asked him what to wear. This wasn’t going to be your typical Saturday night date at the bowling alley; he wanted it to be more, he wanted it to be special because you were special. 

He let out a heavy breath as he finished tying his tie; your favourite tie, and glanced at the clock. Six forty five, you would be here in fifteen minutes. 

Karin had helped him make a nice dinner; roast and potatoes and carrots. Karin had said a nice red wine would go well with it, but Lars had opted for soda instead, because you didn’t drink. 

He lit both candles on the table as there was a soft knock on the door. 

You were early. 

He gave his outfit a quick once over; his three piece suit and his smartest shoes; his hair combed perfectly. He picked up the small bouquet of daisies; all different colours because the white ones were too plain. You were anything but plain.

He swallowed hard before opening the door and his face immediately broke into a grin seeing you. 

“Hi” you smiled and his heart skipped a beat. 

He nodded holding out the flowers “These are for you,” he spoke softly “H-happy anniversary”

You took them, craning your neck slightly to kiss his cheek. The familiar spark stirring in the pit of his stomach like it always did whenever you touched him. It didn't hurt anymore, not like before; now it was quite the opposite, it excited him. It excited him in a way he wasn’t really sure how to explain, not without making you uncomfortable he feared and that was the last thing he had wanted to do. 

He closed the door behind you and helped you off with your jacket, hanging it on the hook next to his. He turned to face you and let out an audible gasp, he hadn’t meant to, but you…you looked….sexy. His cheeks burned hot at even considering such a word to describe you.

You had on a pair of simple black heels, and your dress had a long slit up the thigh, and tied around your neck, but left your back bare. He bit down on his lip gently before clearing his throat. 

You smirked to yourself as he dropped his gaze, forcing himself to look anywhere but down the front of your dress. 

“A-are you hungry?” he stammered, and you chuckled softly noticing he was no longer making eye contact with you in any way shape or form, his eyes fixed firmly on his own shoes. “I made dinner” 

He cautioned a glance back up at you and you were smiling. “Ravenous” 

He squeezed his eyes shut with a nod and motioned to the table; his hand hovering over the small of your back, but not touching your bare skin…although he wanted to…and his cock twitched in his suit pants as a reminder of the fact. 

The deep blush had settled permanently in his cheeks as he pulled out your chair for you to sit. You thanked him before putting your napkin in your lap, watching him sit across from you. 

The candles cast a soft shadow on his face, but you weren’t oblivious to the fact that he was still blushing. You couldn’t resist teasing him, if only just a little

“You look warm, Lars” you spoke softly as you picked up your utensils “Are you alright?” 

He nodded a bit too quickly and you pretended not to notice that his eyes were fixed squarely down the front of your dress. 

“You can take off your jacket sweetheart, it’s just us here” 

Almost immediately he shrugged it off, turning to hang it on the back of his chair before looking back at you. “You look beautiful” 

Your own cheeks flushed a light pink, almost feeling guilty for scheming to get the exact reaction out of him with your outfit of choice. “Thank you” 

You ate in relative silence, knowing Lars was struggling to find words. Usually you had let him take the lead with these kinds of things, but tonight you were feeling brazen and you wanted nothing more than to get him worked up and he was well on his way. 

You put your fork down next to your empty plate and bit your lips together. “What’s for dessert?” 

His face fell slightly as he looked at you across the table “I’m sorry I didn’t…I didn’t make anything for dessert” 

“I could think of something” you tilted your head slightly as you slipped your foot from inside one of your shoes under the table, sliding your bare foot slowly up the inside of his pant leg. 

He shifted almost immediately in his chair, clearing his throat. Not to avoid your touch but a feeble attempt to collect himself. His head was spinning with so many thoughts at once he didn’t know where to land. Had you wanted to be…intimate?

His hand found the back of his neck where he rubbed the hot skin under his fingertips. 

“I…um..” he cleared his throat and tried again, very aware of your toes still teasing at his ankle “What…what’s that?” 

He fought hard to keep his composure, but he knew you were too smart not to notice him coming unraveled. In any other circumstance, he would just go outside, out to the wood pile and blow off some steam, but he couldn’t, not tonight…and if he was being completely honest with himself…he didn’t want to. 

The touch of your bare toes against his bare skin just above his sock, sent sparks though his entire body, making his cock push more earnestly against the confines of his already snug pants. 

“Can I show you?” You asked softly, slipping your other foot free from your heel. 

He nodded and his stomach instantly filled with butterflies as you pushed yourself back from the small table. He frowned, but watched curiously as you sank to your knees and crawled across the floor under the table. 

He jumped slightly when your hands landed on either one of his knees, pushing them apart gently, the erection tenting his pants was hard to miss, it made your whole body flush with an intense heat. 

You slid your hands slowly up either one of his thighs, you could feel his eyes fixed on you before you looked up to meet them, your fingers coming to rest on the button of his pants. 

“May I?” You asked, still mindful of his aversion to touch…even though he had gotten better, you realized this may be too much. 

You waited, knelt under the small table as he took in a shaky breath, but to your surprise he nodded slowly. 

“If you change your mind, you say so, okay?” Although you said the words, and you meant them, you hoped with every fibre of your being, he wouldn’t. 

“Okay” It was barely a whisper of an answer, his eyes trained on your painted fingernails, paused, waiting for his consent. 

You popped open the button and heard his breath catch in his throat above you. 

Running your tongue between your lips you tugged gently, moving his pants out of the way, a smile crept across your lips, noticing the wet patch in Lars’ underwear. 

Leaning forward, you paused as your mouth hovered over the bulge still concealed behind fabric. 

Lars whimpered feeling the heat of your breath against his most sensitive places. That small patch of precum grew bigger by the second as he felt his cock leak more. 

His entire body flushed with arousal, for the first time in his life he wanted to be touched, needed it. 

As if you had read his mind…you were always really good at that…

He watched as you peeled back the thin fabric of his underwear, his cock springing free, hard and throbbing. He let out an almost relieved sigh. 

Your fingers curled around his thick shaft, eliciting a needy moan in the back of his throat as another thick drop of precum forming from the tip.  

He gasped and your eyes met his briefly before you dipped your head, running your tongue slowly over the head of his cock, desperate to taste him. Both of you, somewhat oblivious to how badly the other wanted it. 

Lars shivered at the completely alien sensation, one of his large hands finding its way into your hair, the other, braced on the table. 

“M-more” he breathed “P-p-please”

He could barely form the words, his head foggy with desire, but it didn't seem to matter, you obliged just as he'd asked. 

He squeezed his eyes shut before watching your perfect lips engulf the entire top half of his length. 

Mindful not to kick you underneath the table, he dug his heel into the floor, his mind swimming with pleasure as he moaned over you, his grip on both your hair and the table growing tighter. 

His heart pounded so hard in his chest he wondered for a moment if it would burst through like in the old cartoons.  

Your tongue slid up the underside of his length and he almost lost his composure, he threw his head back, bucking his hips forward, unintentionally forcing himself further down your throat. 

The head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you choke slightly. You moaned around him, sucking harder, the fact that he was too big to fit comfortably in your mouth, making you squeeze your thighs together in vain as your arousal became evident, soaking your own underwear.

“I'm…I-” Lars gasped, the dishes on the table rattling as he gripped harder. “Mmmf” his teeth nearly biting clean through his bottom lip before he threw his head back and cried out, the fingers in your hair, twisted and pulling hard unintentionally, only making you moan around his shaft before you felt his hot, thick release fill your mouth. 

You managed to swallow most of it, not expecting as much as he had to give, the remainder spilling from between your lips, and coating the part of him too big to fit in your mouth.

You let him slide from your mouth with a wet pop. He shivered as you licked and sucked him clean, your own core throbbing with need as he pushed back from the table, enough for you to crawl out from underneath and slip into his lap, his cock slowly softening between you as you sat on his knee, his hand holding you there as you teased your fingers through his dirty blond hair. 

You let him catch his breath before he spoke. 

“Can I…” he paused, considering his words “Have a turn?”

You made a small noise in the back of your throat with a smirk; your core throbbing with need as you sat in his lap. 

“It’s only fair” he reasoned; unable to keep the smile off his face at the thought. 

You had talked things through with him before; when he had felt brave enough to ask you about such things. You were better at explaining it than Gus had been…but he hadn’t been ready then. He was ready now…he thought. 

He leaned forward to kiss you and stopped just before your lips met, his blue eyes meeting yours. “Can I?” he asked softly

You smiled with a nod barely able to get your “Yes” out before his lips crushed against yours. 

Usually his kisses were slow and timid; this time there was so much force behind it, it nearly knocked you over

Your breath caught in your throat as you pushed him back gently; your cheeks flushed with heat; the small apartment suddenly felt very warm. 

“I thought…” his face fell as he searched yours “I thought you wanted…” 

“Oh, Lars I-” you swallowed hard trying to keep your own composure and not send him running in the other direction. “I did, I do” you tried to find the words to reassure him “Just…take a second, take a breath” you spoke softly, your fingers pushing through his hair “Are you sure this is what you want; are you sure you’re ready because we-”

“I’m sure” he interrupted with a confident nod. 

Before you could respond he got to his feet, but didn’t move toward the bed like you had expected. Instead, he blew out the candles, his arm around your waist, holding you firmly against him. You jumped when his free hand swept the table clean, sending the dirty dinner dishes crashing to the floor.

“Lars!” you couldn’t help laughing at the mess on the floor before in one swift movement he lifted you on the now bare table, his mouth once again devouring yours. 

He stood between your spread legs, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other sliding up your thigh as he hooked your leg around his waist. His new found confidence sending you reeling as his weight pushed you back further on the table. 

Your arms found their way around his neck as he broke your kiss, opting to suck and nip along the length of your neck instead. 

You closed your eyes, it was your turn to be overwhelmed with sensations. You had thought and dreamed of this moment so many times over the last six months…even before. You weren’t convinced it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. 

He was ravenous, completely oblivious to anything that wasn’t you in the moment. 

Warm fingers on the back of your neck, loosened the bow, holding your dress up; the fabric falling loose around your front before Lars pulled it away, leaving you exposed. 

He tugged your dress off the rest of the way, leaving it in a crumpled pile at his feet. Your chest heaving as you tried hard to get a grip on your own arousal surging through your body at an impossibly fast rate. 

Your arms slipped from around his neck as he sank to his knees on the floor, pulling you to the edge of the table. 

His hands pushed your knees apart, just as you had done with his moments before. Your heart thudding in your chest with anticipation as he inched closer to your core. 

Legs draped over his broad shoulders, you shivered as his warm breath crept up the inside of your thigh, the tip of his nose brushing against the lace of the panties you still wore, making you gasp and fist the table cloth underneath you. 

“God, Lars” you breathed, mindful not to crush his head between your thighs. 

He looked up at you from between your legs; his eyes dark with lust. “May I?” 

“Yes, God,” you whined; desperate to feel more “Please” 

Thick fingers curled around the dainty waistband before tugging them off gently and letting them drop to the floor. 

You were so wet. He knew that’s how this worked, he had watched movies before…but this was different, this was for him, you were wet for him. The thought made his cock grow hard between his legs and he let out a moan as another thought occurred to him. What did you taste like?

Again, he dropped his head, but this time he ran his tongue between your slick folds; you lurched forward, arching your back off the table as you let out a strangled cry; your fists clenching the pristine white table cloth tightly. 

“Holy fu-” You squeezed your eyes shut tightly; your whole body felt like it would burst into flames at any second. 

Lars was completely unfazed, devouring you like you were the best thing he had ever let touch his tastebuds. 

And you were… 

He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips so hard they would leave bruises; Lars completely unaware of his own strength He sucked, and licked and moaned against your core as you writhed over him. His cock leaking with his own pleasure, hearing what he  was doing to you. 

Then as fast as he was there, he was gone, but before you had a chance to complain, his weight was on top of you, his mouth on yours, his tongue pushing between your lips as he kissed you feverishly. You moaned against his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as his hard cock pressed against the inside of your thigh.

He pulled back to catch his breath, his lips red and kiss swollen; mustache damp with your slick. He searched your face, catching his breath; you looked so beautiful; flushed, breathless and naked…just for him…

He watched as you bit your lip with a whine as his fingers ghosted over your dripping folds; feeling you shudder underneath him. 

“Can I…Can we…” he stammered breathlessly struggling to find the words; thankful when you simply nodded. You always understood.

He repositioned himself, the head of his cock pushing inside you, he watched you, as your eyes fluttered closed, you grit your teeth and he frowned slightly, wondering if he was hurting you,but you hadn’t told him to stop. Quite the opposite, you pulled him closer, your tight heat engulfing his entire length, your moans mingling with his as your lips found his again. 

He thrust his hips, slowly at first, the small table groaning under the weight of both of you on it’s top. 

You pried your lips from his, taking a much needed breath as he thrust harder, moving his hips faster, your legs locked around his waist. He buried his head in the crook of your neck moaning low in the back of his throat as you moaned loud towards the ceiling. 

His large hand collapsed over your mouth as his breath was hot and heavy next to your ear.

“Shhh, they’ll hear you” 

You breathed heavily through your nose as his hand stayed firmly in place; your moans muffled underneath You sounded desperate and needy, and you were. The entire table shifted under your weight as he thrust harder; his own desperate moans loud next to your ear. He was close. 

Something in him flipped like a switch; his primal urge taking over as he buried himself deep inside you, the delicious burn between your thighs of being stretched almost too far as skin slapped skin, his hand still heavy over your mouth as he grunted with the last of his effort, spilling hot and thick inside you as your fingernails sank into the flesh of his shoulders through his dress shirt as your orgasm tore through you from your core. 

He dropped his hand from your mouth, his weight landing heavy on top of you. He was almost still completely dressed; pants gathered around his ankles, shirt buttons undone, tie hanging loosely around his neck, his hair no longer neatly combed. 

You pushed his hair back away from his face with a smile as you felt him slip from inside you.  

“Are you okay?” he asked, softly “I- I didn’t hurt you?” 

You shook your head with a small laugh; pulling him closer to kiss him gently “No sweetheart; not even a little bit” 

He smiled, leaning his forehead against yours as he pulled you to sit up, his hands cupping your face. “Can we do it again?” he asked, his lips pressing against yours before you had a chance to answer. 

[kur0m1sblog]

Bubble Baths.

Pitch Black X Fem! Love/Cupid! Guardian! Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N and Pitch are soulmates, according to Y/N. Since she is after all the guardian of love and beauty, A.K.A Cupid. She knows who’s soulmates and not, they were in her little lair and after having some “fun”, Pitch decides to give her a nice bubble bath and treat her like the beautiful guardian she is. Without knowing, the other guardians went to visit you and instead spied on you and Pitch. Seeing how desperate he is for you and how much he loves and worships you.

WARNINGS: The guardians spying on you and Pitch, implied smut I guess? That’s all I guess! 💋

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡꘎

“Uhhh! P-pitch I-I’m gonna!” You cry out loudly as pitch presses soft kisses to you’re cheek.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He spoke softly, and that was it for you. That was also the end for Pitch as he started to let out ribbons of his seed into you, moaning your pretty little name.

You and Pitch take a few deep breathes as he pulls out of you, his semen spewing out of your pretty hole. “Oh god Pitch, I love you so much.” You manage to get out as Pitch picks you up over his shoulder, and lays you onto the satin pillows that are still neatly laying against your bed frame. He lays you down, after making sure your comfortable he speaks up.

“You know my beloved?” Pitch starts. “I’m surprised you do. Y’know being the Guardian of Love and Beauty..? And me of course being the boogeyman.” You blink at the words he’s saying, he’s surprised you love him..? You turn your back around to face him on the other side of your bed. “When we first met, goodness I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you..Or bring myself to even lay a finger on you. You were perfect, not just you’re looks or anything, but when we first started to actually know each other. I started longing for you,” He says looking deep into your eyes and suddenly holds your hands in his. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of, but I’m still so shocked that you love me, even when you’re not supposed to. You disobeyed their rules just for me..” He says. “And I will never forgot that my darling, I love you too. Much more than you.” He purrs into your eyes as he sits up then suddenly starts tickling you.

He enjoys hearing you giggle, it’s brings him so much joy. “Okay! Baby, stop tickling me! Ahh!” You scream laughing trying to get his long fingers off of your ticklish spots.

He stops ticking you for a second and picks up by your thighs, “Let me show you how much I love you by treating you like the beautiful guardian you are darling”. Pitch says as you wrap your legs around his thin waist, and proceed to kiss him on the cheek.

He takes you to you’re bathroom decorated beautifully in hearts and colors that match you perfectly, and starts a bubble bath for you. L

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡꘎

“I think we should maybe talk to Y/N again and apologize.” Toothiana speaks up.

“Why should we? She’s disobeyed us by listening to what she thinks is right and getting together with that good for nothing piece of-“ Bunnymund tries to finish but North cuts him off.

“Don’t finish that, look maybe Y/N has disobeyed us but don’t you think what they have is true love?” North asks looking at the rest of the guardians. Sandy nods rapidly, creating a silhouette of you and Pitch kissing each other and holding each other close.

“Look why don’t we go visit Y/N and talk with her about it and we’ll all be happy again!” Tooth says blissfully.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡꘎

“Okay we are here now, do you guys think she’s here?” Tooth asks.

“I know for a fact she is, whenever she here she has that waterfall of her’s running.” North says pointing to a waterfall on the side of your ‘lair’ glimmering in the light.

“Okay, okay, whatever let’s go in now.” Jack presumes, as he pushes open the heart shaped door to your ‘lair’.

“Y’know this is different from what it used to be..” Bunnymund says, somewhat hesitant to go farther into your ‘lair’.

“Oh calm down Bunny! It’s not big deal!” Tooth says flying around your ‘lair’ looking at tiny trinkets of yours.

“Guys is it me or do you feel like Pitch is here..?” Jack asks, looking around deliberately.

“Of course he is going to be here Jack, I mean cmon’ those two are dating!” North says patting Jack harshly on his back.

“I’m gonna go look in her bedroom to see if she’s there guys!” Toothiana says flying away quickly. “You guys go look around somewhere else, okay?!” Tooth shouts as she flys off.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡꘎

Pitch places you into the bubble bath, and lights a few candles and brings in a bottle of champagne with two glasses. “Ooh a little fancy for a bubble bath don’t you think baby?” You say teasing him slightly.

“Only the best for my girl.” Pitch says pouring the bubbly alcohol into the glasses. “Cheers, sweetheart.” Pitch coos as you both tap your glasses together and drink away.

“Now lay down in the bath my love and let me take care of you.” Pitch says as he now enters the bath with you and sits behind you. He grabs your shampoo, and pours it in one of his hands. Then placing down the bottle and rubbing the liquid in between his palms. Now rubbing it into your hair, massaging your pretty hair and scalp. Making you grow relaxed.

“Y’know you take the best care of me right, Pitch?” You say looking up at him tiredly, and pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Of course I do, who wouldn’t want to treat a beautiful woman like a goddess?” Pitch says making you smile up at him.

“God your so sweet.” You say as Pitch lowers your hair into the water, getting rid of the excess shampoo in your locks. “As sweet as candy.” You speak.

He then proceeds to condition your hair and do the same process again. Once he’s done he moves onto washing your body. He pours you’re favorite body wash on your heart shaped loofa, and rubs it against your soft skin everywhere. He gets on the other side of the tub, and lifts your calve up and starts scrubbing away admiring your beauty. As he is done, you notice he didn’t even wash and clean himself this whole time. He washed you up. “My love?”

He hums yes, “Why didn’t you clean yourself?” You ask, raising an Eyebrow.

“Well because I just wanted to take care of you silly, I always do. And you come first before me sweetie.” He says wiping the bubbles off of you’re cheek and kissing it. “I’ll take a shower in a bit when you’re all cozied up.” He says lifting you out of your bath, and wrapping a towel around your figure. He then proceeds to put lotion on you, and brush your hair. Doing the normal self-care things.

“Pitch?”

“Yes darling.”

“You know I love you..right?” You speak looking up at him as he places you into you’re bed.

“Of course I do.” He says placing a kiss on the top of your forehead. “Now rest while I go take a quick shower, okay.?”

“Okay, I love you.” You speak, feeling your heart drop and blush as he stares at you the same way.

“I love you too sweetheart .”

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡꘎

As Tooth enters the room, she doesn’t hear the bath running. But she did hear Y/n and Pitch having a conversation.

“Guys I found her but she’s talking to Pitch I think.” She says awkwardly.

“Well that’s fine, because we need to talk to her urgently.” North say walking to your room looking for you, the rest following his lead.

“Wow, since when did Y/n smoke..?” Bunnymund says holding up a box of ‘Eve Lights’ and looking at her glass flower cigarette tray.

“Hey atleast the girl knows those are the fancy ones.” North says chuckling.

They walk around her bedroom looking at her stuff until they stumble across the bathroom, hearing giggling.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go in there, maybe Y/n’s bathing..?” Bunnymund says as his cheeks flush.

“Oh cmon’ Bunnymund, it’s not everyday you get to see a hot chick y’know naked?” Jack says hitting his arm playfully.

“Cmon’ don’t talk about Y/n like that guys.” North says sternly as he walks into the bathroom.

The rest follow in, and they all see a sight they’d never thought they would. They spot Pitch washing Y/n’s silky hair, “God you know I spoil you like a princess right, my love?” Pitch says pecking her cheek.

“Wow, this is this some cheesy romance.” Bunnymund says faking a gag.

“Yes it is, oh em her! They are soooo cute!” Toothiana says squealing in a tiny whisper. Her wings start fluttering.

“Oh gosh this is so gooey, hey you know we can use this as blackmail~” Jack says giggling slyly.

“No we aren’t those type of guardian, Jack.” North speaks.

Sandy smiles making tiny sand images of them in the bath, Pitch blowing away the bubbles in her hair, and laughing.

“I never knew Pitch had this side to him,” North says somewhat puzzled. “Well know we know that he does” Jack says rolling his eyes.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡꘎

Sorry if this wasn’t the best, but it was the second story i’ve made! Thanks for reading babes! 💋🫶🏽

[papaver-decervicatus]

Cat/Mouse/Den: Pt. 3, The Cat Returns

After the incident with Mouse in the Alps, König is put into frontline insertions instead of wilderness patrol following his noticeable change in demeanor. Life without Mouse goes on, or does it?

CW: Obsession, stalking, canon typical violence, intrusive thoughts, unsanitary wound care

Authors Note: Again, I am just beside myself with the amount of love and support this silly story of mine is receiving. I will probably update this author's note when it is not 01:00 my time after a date. This chapter is a little longer to make up for the fact that the next chapters may take longer, as we are getting to the end of my stockpiled hoard of writings. Expect shorter, drabble bursts between bigger chapters!

Small note: if you see a rapid switch between the use of Mouse and Maus, it is meant to show that König's sense of ownership and possession of Mouse. In his thoughts, she is distinctly separate from her role as a military contractor, he thinks of her as his. I am sure I messed it up a couple of times, but if you see both it is not a typo!

Cura ut Veleas❣️~ Caedis

PREV | Pt. 3, The Cat Returns | 5k words | König POV | NEXT

It’s sometime in February, and the fighting has moved into a little town somewhere in Italy. They’re gathering intel on SpecGru, trying to figure out something or other. 

König is not an intelligence officer. He is not subtle enough for that. Everyone knows this. 

He’s a battering ram as a human, thick and tall and good at making closed doors open if they don’t fly off their fucking hinges when he hits them. He’s not stupid by any means, but he’s not stealthy the way the position would require. 

He hasn’t seen her in three weeks. He hasn’t been on patrol at all, he’s been on frontline insertion. A place where his Maus is not. 

He misses her voice in his ear. He misses the little things she leaves behind, the leaves she folds into animals, the rocks she arranges into shapes like smiles. His favorite was the piece of flint she knapped into sharp edges all around, into the vague shape of a heart- he reasons that was probably not on purpose but he’s distraught the second he gets it back to base and realizes the fragile thing broke to dust in his pocket. When he cuts himself on the flint shards and doesn’t patch them up, he thinks of it as penance. 

He tries not to think too harshly about that. That she gave him her heart and he literally pulverized it. He's resolved that he won’t mention it in the comms. He doesn’t want to hurt her feelings if she did intend to give him a heart-shaped stone. It was the latest thing she’d gifted him and he was starting to think that its destruction was some sort of terrible omen. 

It’s that moment he realizes just how badly he’s had it. Having it. Wanting it. Needing her. Their silly little game is all he lives for these days. It’s pathetic but he can’t stop himself. 

Slicing and dicing and scouting and barging and battering and shooting and whatever else-ing enemies are little consolation for the gap she’s left in his life. He begs and barters and borrows around base for the books she recommended to him. He’s hoarding terrible jokes to tell her when he sees her (hears her?) again. Whenever he gets halfway decent food the first thing he thinks is “I wish I could teach Maus how to make Austrian food.” He thinks about dancing around in the kitchen with her before sharing a hot meal. He sees a particularly sturdy tree and wonders how long it would take her to climb it. When he gets cuts and bruises he thinks about her small, agile, soft hands patching him up instead of the sterile medics. He thinks about laying his head down on her plush thighs as she sighs and reads a book. He thinks about going hiking with her back in Austria, holding her hand the whole way up, then down, the mountain. He thinks about camping with her, kissing the top of her head as they sit by the fire. He fucking aches to make her mewl around his length in a lover's embrace. 

She’s all he thinks about during the day. How to make her happy. How to be closest to her. How to see her again. She’s all he thinks about at night, too. How she might want to be touched. How she’d taste. How to satisfy her so thoroughly she’d never try to find someone else. He cannot stop himself from thinking about her in these ways, and the realization that he simply does not want to either is just as disorienting.

He had been making good progress, inching his way closer and closer to her. Every time he would abandon his post while on patrol and wander around until he found her, she would allow him to get a little closer. He’s no fool, she is a sniper. If she didn’t want him any closer, she would just take him out from far away. But she doesn’t. At first, he thought he was hallucinating the slowly closing distances. It took a full 50 feet of gained ground over a month and four meetings for him to even consider that she was allowing him to get closer. As ridiculous as it is, he refuses to get any closer than first contact, except for… that morning.

He doesn’t like to think of himself as superstitious, he prefers to think of himself as logical. Perhaps too many head injuries, too many kills, and too much war has ruined his complete objectiveness. When he got the transmission about the agent running away with files in his direction, he got a feeling. An instinct? A calling? It was the auspicious nervousness of a near-death encounter, an intrinsic sort of rush that any soldier learns to obey if they want to survive in a war. But this one was different.

His stomach flipped more violently than he’s ever known it and he felt thick lightning throughout his entire body. His vision nearly blanked as he looked down at his peace offering, he knew at once the feeling was not for him. 

He didn’t hesitate to take off running for her position when he got the transmission about a rogue soldier strapped with explosives. 

“Keep moving and I shoot,”  Maus had said. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the obsession he tried so valiantly to deny himself. Maybe it was the scratchiness of the radio feeding him pretty lies, but König couldn’t help but hear a sort of begging desperation in her voice. His heart lurches fast and heavy in his chest as he sprints, fearful energy enveloping his anxious mind. Something is very wrong here, he thinks but how the hell is he supposed to tell her that? Would she trust him? Would he even get there in time? 

“It’s right under you, Liebling,” he rasped out through frantic breaths, so high on genuine concern for her that he could not help the blandishment that he offered her. If only she knew, maybe she’d just let him help her. 

Somehow, miraculously, she listens (Good girl, Maus,) and turns her attention to the adversary gaining ground between the trees. The man is quick, but König is quicker, taking off through the snow like he did as a child. Running with reckless abandon, long legs carrying him faster and further than anyone else when he and his cousins would play capture the flag at his Oma’s house in Gauso. This prize, however, is much more important to him. 

He feels an almost sick sense of vindication when her gun jams, but whatever positive emotion he felt for it is drowned out with a tidal wave of concern and fear when he sees her struggling with her rifle and the man beneath the trees taking aim at her. 

Slicing that man clean between his ribs like a lion strikes a lamb was the second most satisfying experience of his life, greatly eclipsed by the settling of her weight against his chest when she trusted him enough to jump into his arms. 

She looks so fearful beneath his stare and he shrinks away in an attempt to placate her nervousness, equally as fearful that he must have somehow damaged her by simply holding her. He has half the mind to berate himself about touching her, still bloody from the enemy and still a monster beneath it all.

He had never intended to actually give her the birchwood effigy. He originally started carving it on a restless night camping alone after a particularly suggestive series of flirtations over the radio. 

(“Why did the bike fall over, Maus?” 

“Tell me, König.” 

“Because it was two tired.”

 “HA! That’s terrible! You’re so tall, can you even fit on a bike?” 

“Eh, sometimes, but the peddles are not so good.”

 “What does that mean?” 

“They are too small.” 

“...oh. Big feet?”

“Ja.”

“You know what they say about big feet…”

“I do not.”

“Have trouble getting into pants in the morning, too?”

“Was?”

“You big, everywhere? I mean, with hips like those…”

“...” Fuck, bad time to get a boner.

“Oh come on, big guy, don’t get shy on me now~”)

The chunk of wood was too damp for kindling so he started gouging at its sides idly while waiting for his water to sterilize from boiling. He was just whittling with no real purpose until the absent image of a mouse started to appear in the pale material. From that moment of fireside recognition onwards, he’d been chasing a little prayer in her shape. He wouldn’t have considered it ‘done’ when he gave it to her but-

Her warmth was still in his fingers, her beautiful eyes trained on him, her fantastic form somehow devoid of his blood or his filth in his rescue attempt, well. He had been praying, hadn’t he? It’s only right to pay tithing to the thing you worship. He gave her the figure, and he did so with the only real regret being that he couldn’t give her more and that he almost sullied her perfection with his violence.

And to top it all off, when he wrenched himself away from her, heart heavy and entirely certain that she would never, could never, follow- she called him back and reciprocated. Like a siren’s call, he obeyed without prejudice, without regret, without even realizing he was turning backward to meet her. When he caught it in his hands he felt the weight of the world settle onto his shoulders in the shape of a little whetstone in the palm of his hand.

She gave him her lucky charm. She gave him a tool after recognizing his fondness for knives. 

He simply does not have the words for the stringent emotion that thought invokes in him, the fire it ignites. When she apologizes for its quality or lack thereof (It is her charm, the thing that keeps her safe, and she gives it to me? And has to apologize for it? Just her charm? Silly little girl…) he bites back confusion and instead reassures her. The emotion in her eyes when he responds “All the more reason to treasure it,” is his favorite thing he’s ever seen. And yet, he knows he cannot take her with him. If he didn’t leave at that moment, he knows he would have starved to death on the spot waiting for her to follow him. When he turns away it is because his brain cannot comprehend a world in which she walks away with him.

He remembers walking off, dazed and in a trance with the whetstone in his hands, trudging off into some unknown heaven he had never anticipated escaping to. He walks all the way back to base and gets harsh stares and reprimands for returning a whole 5 hours earlier than he should have. He hears confused whispers and concerned words from the medics who give him the all-clear, and he has been placed on Frontline Insertion two patrols following this event as an attempt to cleanse his mind and body from whatever ‘walking sickness,’ Aksel called it, he picked up in the woods. (And in fairness, he would rather die than admit his treachery, not out of any misplaced moral but instead out of precaution for her safety.)

His days are miserably long without Maus and he kicks himself every night and day for unwittingly getting himself separated from her. Every time he gets back to base he cleans the whetstone and prays to see her again.

The KorTac base here is relatively large, he gets his own room in the barracks and he’s never been more thankful for it when on a snowy night, he dreams. 

In the dream, it’s snowing and he wakes up in a car somewhere in the wilderness. The trees are bare but there are so many of them he just tastes cold and sees gray. Then the sudden urge to run overcomes him, and so he does. He sprints, to where? He doesn’t know. Familiarity laps at the corners of his mind, and his feet move on their own, like an animal stalking its way back home. He doesn’t need to be told where to go, he just does. 

Then! He’s tracking the smallest prints in fresh powder snow, keeping up with the tracks as best he can as they get drowned out by new falling chunks of ice. 

He’s burning. He’s burning. He’s burning. He doesn’t slow down. 

Then, he follows the tracks beside a little creek cutting into limestone outcroppings until he sees some smoke in the distance, the tracks go into the creek and come out the other side towards the smoke. 

Then he wades through the creek, it barely comes to his ankles and on the other side of the stream, the tracks are combat boots, not animal tracks. But they’re still small. 

Then he starts running alongside the tracks as they disappear, the smoke gets further and further away until-

He finds a bright red, blood-toned shed. In the shed are recently discarded supplies mixed in with hay and various domestic and agricultural equipment. Something is nesting nearby, and his mouth waters at the prospect of a fresh meal. He rests his own packs there and goes to the house the shed is next to. 

He nearly has to break down the door of the house, and the single room it leads to is impossibly small on the inside from how it looked outside. He looks around for any signs of humans, hostages, or hostiles, he’s got the thrum of battle in his ears. It’s one room, with a ladder leading to a loft space. There are a few cabinets, a sink, a counter, and a wood stove that pipes out to a small chimney. There are two windows, filtering in grey-cloud-toned twilight. That’s it. 

Except- it’s not. The wood stove is burning. Someone’s home. 

The ladder to the loft takes him no time at all to climb and on it, there’s a mattress without a bed frame with blankets piled high. Clothes are leading to the pile and a lit gas lamp is. It’s colder up here than down there. 

There’s a lump on the mattress. It rises and falls, as though it breathes. 

It gets up. 

It turns. 

It’s Mouse. 

The blanket falls from her frame and he sees her in the light of a gas lamp at the foot of the blanket nest. Her neck cranes to look at him and she doesn’t seem surprised to see him. The lamp illuminates her form like a display light in a museum lights up a statue. Her soft skin pebbles into goose flesh and he smells smoke like the house is on fire. She’s naked from the column of her neck down to the exposed divet of her hip. She turns over to face him, breasts on full display, slightly falling into each other as her inviting lips part. 

“I was worried you’d never come,” she says. 

He’s on her in an instant, like a barbarian he doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes, he just kneels at the bed and lifts his hood enough to kiss her. At first, it’s only chaste lips in a fleeting embrace. Like everything, he waits until she signals for something more. When she timidly bites on his bottom lip, asking for more, he more than obliges. He complies with a fervency he chokes backward on in a futile attempt to control himself, terribly mindful that he may hurt her, or worse, scare her. The inside of her mouth is raw from chewing on it idly, she tastes like blood and rainwater and poppyseed. He wagers a guess that she’s twice as addicting as opium, though, when her fingers tangle into his hair underneath his hood and pull him closer, closer, impossibly closer…

Their breaths are hot as they mingle, he swears the line between her and him is fading by the moment and he gets an adrenaline rush to rival that of bloodlust. Her skin is soft and pliant beneath his large, steady hands. She is so small, so perfectly tailored to him, so soft to the rough bits of him that he cannot help but gasp in their embrace. The tantalizing curve of her smile melts into his lips as she giggles at his gasping. 

She is everything like Modanifil, the second she is on his tongue she hits his veins faster and harder than any post-gunshot amphetamine-mimicking pharmaceutical. He hums and huffs into her as he notices that she really is tiny compared to him. She could fit snugly on top of him and not seep to the sheets beneath, he could toss her over a shoulder with ease and carry her miles across any terrain, he could protect the whole of her body with his own and not leave any weak spots. Like dovetail joints, a great carpenter must have made them to fit together. There must be a God, and he must have made her to perfectly fit beside (and dare he hope, inside?) her. 

The only thing older than war to mankind is intimacy. You need soldiers for war, you need men for soldiers, and you need love to make those men. Battle is a cruel Rube-Goldberg machine of “if this, then that,” and it's all König has ever known. The rigid structure that bends and breaks for no one, the absolute rule of power and intellect even at a material disadvantage, the vain hope that you make a positive difference when in reality your life is worth a few millimeters of ballpoint pen ink as it scribbles out K and I and A. 

War is all König has ever known, it's the only thing he has ever taken comfort in besides alienation and purposeful seclusion.

At this moment, he understands something older than war. He feels the most primal form of empathy and community and he fucking craves it. For the first time in his life, the hum of blood in his ears is welcome and he doesn’t mind the idea of surrender. War is nothing compared to this, compared to her. He is remembering how to be human, to be a man and not a soldier, and he smiles back into her mouth.

He spends a blissful eternity licking into her mouth, mapping the soft tissue with his tongue. He drinks the occasional squeak of surprise she lets out when he does something just right. Her exploration is reciprocal, careful, and agile just like she is on the field. Her hands grasp each other behind his head and he distantly hopes she never has to move them. One of his hands cradles the back of her neck and the other strokes her cheek. He pauses only long enough to bring her slender neck to his lips for a fleeting kiss— a silent signal that he wants more if she’ll give it—  and he inhales like she is oxygen before continuing to worship her mouth with his. She smells like cinnamon and he’s desperate to get a taste. 

He breaks away when she pushes him slightly. Before he can even think about having offended her, her thumb strokes the scar between his left nostril and the corner of his mouth like a honey salve in reassurance. She glances down to his hand on her cheek and he follows her implicit orders like a good little soldier attempting to impress his commanding officer. He raises his gloved hands to her mouth and she keeps them in her teeth to pull them off. Before his hands can go anywhere, as if she knows right where they’re going, she kisses his digits and suckles on his fingers. His unoccupied hand goes back to her cheek as she works at the other one. She hums and moans when he presses them in a little more, then a little more, then a little more, then-

She gently chokes and with tears in her eyes, she pants around them. 

He could kill her. Now. He could slam her head back and choke her. Gut her with the knife in his waistband. Or worse, he could have his way with her. He could let feeble cries of God, no more! die on her tongue as he takes what he has wanted so badly. He could prove that he really is a monster.

The intrusive thought is ripped away by the overwhelming urge to do the exact opposite as her throat constricts around his fingers. 

All this time, she hasn’t refused them. She doesn’t refuse them. She doesn’t refuse him. 

She is giving him total control. Complete power and without hesitation. In her teary eyes, he sees a soldier’s trust, firm and unwavering. Ever faithful. Unquestioningly and genuinely she believes the man she’s at the mercy of will make her need no mercy. 

She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He’s the one that takes the fingers out of her mouth. He is hellbent on rewarding this fidelity, his own pleasure be damned. 

“König,” her eyes glaze over with worry. It’s a dangerous game they’re playing and they both know it. “Are you sure you want me?” She whispers, lips meeting the shell of his ear, he feels her fever pitch skin even through the fabric of his mask. His heart aches and he’s so angry with himself that she could even ask that. As if there were ever any questions. As if he has ever wanted anything else in his life like he wants this. As if there is anything else to want. As if there is anything else. 

“Always, Maus,” he says instead of the million things he wants to because he cannot wait. She is right there. She has asked for him. This is all he wants. He kisses her perfect lips just once more and grunts once he tears their flesh apart. He’s too impatient to prove himself any longer to be bothered with waiting. He has nothing of worth for her, except the fragile hope that if he can keep her physically satisfied in ardent service this angel may let a pitiful man worship her a little longer. 

Her desperate question and the obscene amount of her spit on his fingers are all the invitation he needs to dive between her thighs. He keeps one hand on her hip and the other at her left breast- and he sighs when his flesh meets and yields to his palm- and before he can latch onto her center and give her all the attention she so deserves-

“I knew you’d fall for it,” she says. Her thighs grab his head and twist. 

His neck snaps. 

When he wakes up in his cold barracks, decidedly alone and not in between her thighs, he pounds the bed in frustration. The bed that his Mäuschen isn’t in, the bed that’s not in the loft of some secret mountain hideaway, the bed that he sleeps in alone. The bed he considers leaving forever, leaving KorTac, running into the night, and taking her from her own quarters at SpecGru.

He’s thought about that. Long, long ago someone told him a story. In the story, spartan warriors would kidnap the women they wanted and have sex with them in the barracks. It was to claim their marriage rights because they couldn’t get married while in the military but had to be in the military. They were supposed to kidnap the women to prove they deserved them. It was just what they did. Not so dissimilar to the bride-stealing traditions his Oma had told him about as a boy.

He’s not sure if he believes that, but that night when he fucks his hand in frustration and bites his pillow to shreds, he lives in that fantasy. 

Where he finds Maus sleeping in her barracks. He steals her away in the dead of night. In his fantasy, she’s willing. She whispers “I was worried you’d never come,” when he wakes her up. She throws her arms around his neck and he lifts her out of her bed and they run. They just run. Until they find a cabin. Or a tent. Or something. She lets him do whatever he wants to her and he asks for nothing in return. He’s waited for her for so long and he’d wait longer if he could just find the proving ground of the heat between her thighs and claim his rightful spot as the winner of her- then, and only then, he’d worry about his own satisfaction. 

In the end, however, he cannot convince himself into escaping to her. The fantasy of her is potent and life-consuming, but he is also viscerally aware that it is just that. A fantasy.

It is not real and despite his choking desire to be with her, he is not entirely sure she wants him. In fact, he is quite assured of the opposite, that she would reject him without a second thought. That she does not want him, that there is nothing to want because he is just hulking gore covered in scars and a hood. He is less than human, maybe even less than animal, he enjoys war and his comrades consistently remind him that that is so far into abnormality he may as well not even be animate. His long etched scars and sins burn across his forehead, cheeks, and lips in a phantom pain when he pictures her own face. There is nothing for her in him and all the dreaming in the world isn’t going to change that innocent little mice don’t fall in love with things like him.

He wants so desperately to just be a fucking person for her. A person allowed weakness, a person allowed good-morning kisses, a person allowed terrible flirting, a person allowed to sit in the same room, a person allowed to touch and savor and make better another human. Allowed to heal, not harm. Allowed to save, not slaughter.

But he is a soldier, he’s not a person, and he’s not sure he ever really was a person in the first place.

He wants her. Wanting is an unusual sensation for him, long dormant and now suddenly hotter than hellfire. He wishes he could stop burning himself but every time he sees the flickering flame he gets a little closer, convinced this time he will walk away unscathed or better yet cleansed of original and perpetual sin. She could be his funeral pyre and most of what he’d think of that is “God, she’s pretty. I’m glad it was her.”

He could just take her, he is more than capable of it. If he really wanted to he could just reach out and sink his teeth in and have his way with her just like a Spartan King. But, then he would really and truly be a monster. He might not deserve better than ire and hate, but she certainly does. 

The only thing he wants more than to have her is for her to want him. That hope is a delusion deeper than the ravine they met at, he’s sure. Even still, he cannot run the risk of scaring her off or going against her wishes. 

So, König stays. In his cold bed, harsh snow beating against a rotting window sill, his only company the images of Maus he makes up in his mind and the perverse and shameful noise of wet-skin slapping.

He finishes twice in his hand that night, hot and pissed, and halfway to desertion when he finally falls into a dreamless sleep. He’s so exhausted and uncomfortable in his own skin and brain that he doesn’t even have the shame of being embarrassed about the ways he imagines her. His fantasy is punctuated by the all-consuming settle of her weight upon his chest somewhere warm and dry. He feels no shame when he wraps his arms around the bunched comforter on his chest, imagining it’s a slight body he faithfully cradles.

When he wakes up, however, that shame drowns him when he prepares to meet for orders in the morning. What kind of a man does that? Now he’s sure she will never want him. If she knew how obsessed he’s become that he cannot help himself from having dreams about her and cannot help himself from getting off to the idea that she killed him with her fucking thighs she would hate him and she would have every right to. He nearly claws his eyes out when he washes his face with cold water. He asks the mirror if he’s a monster, his clear and evident scarring from a lifetime of abuse and war does not need to answer in the affirmative for him to know it to be true. 

Even more so than usual, those around him give him a wide enough berth that he does not need to do so much as walk in a straight line for others to scurry out of the way. He only half hears his orders in the morning briefing, he only glances at his map when he is sent out.

He tucks the whetstone into his right pocket when he goes on his patrol, beneath the familiar weight of his beloved field knife. His right hand burns from healing flint cuts and getting bucked into for hours, the rough whetstone doesn’t help but he still caresses it in his pocket like a prayer. 

Once he’s in the woods his radio receives a message. 

“I was worried you’d never come,” it calls to him, full like fresh dirt of relief over a buried urn of anxiety. His throat catches on the tone, the static hides none of its desperation.

He finds her in her tree. 

He falls. He knows it’s fatal. He cannot recover. 

There’s nothing he can do and nowhere he can go. 

He’s in love. 

“Always, Maus.” He says back.

He’s always in her sights.

Sometimes he wishes she would just pull the trigger.

taglist!

@kneelingshadowsalome @sprout-fics @bucca2 @dead-cipher @gallowsjoker @lostagoodcigar @berryjuicyy @haisebo

[stevieselfships]

intimate knowledge & gorgeous visage for stu and wade :>

intimate knowledge: what are some hidden features of your f/o that not many people are privy to? things like a secret birthmark, the fact that they are ambidextrous, the bump on their nose that is actually the result of breaking it as a child. do these small facts about them fascinate you? do the stories behind them make you swoon for them even more, if possible?

stu: he has a matching tattoo with billy (they did stick n pokes on each other when they were like. 14) on his forearm. these are inital tattoos, BL on stu and SM on billy. <- hc also stole from an artist, the link to the art is here. he has very faded scars on his knuckles and hands in general from knife fights with billy at like. 12. shoulder freckles from sun exposure :']]]] and very light ones across his nose. has thigh scars because he would get bored during the summer and selfharm??? and has ones on his chest for the same reason. scar in his scalp from running at the pool as a kid and he fell and busted his head open (found when he had a usually short haircut). he does actually have a nose bump from breaking his nose as a child, he fell out of a tree and landed on his face because he does not know how to fall properly. he's broken it a couple times after, one from a drunken fistfight with billy, the other from falling down the stairs in his house (he's most embarrassed of this one). dog bite scars on his arm from him riling up some dog because he thought it was funny and then it attacked him (some dog was like a pitbull named princess). he's a tiny tad colorblind

i love hearing stu's stories of things, it's really cute when he starts laughing while recalling the memories <3

wade: some of his scars are vaguely heart shaped. he had a tattoo for vanessa but it got all warped and distorted when was tortured by fransis. he has a few silver crowns on his back teeth, he even forgets why he has them. he has dysgeusia, he's lived with it for so long that he feels like it's not worth mentioning. doesn't want to admit it, but when he's out of combat situations (because of hyperfocus), he has audio processing issues, he cannot watch anything without subtitles. this also means he knows some show episodes (mostly golden girls) and some movies word for word

gorgeous visage: does your f/o keep photos of you in their wallet? or do they maybe have a locket of your hair? what about you? how much evidence do you keep of them in your day to day life?

stu: he does!!!! in his wallet, it's this cute polaroid he took of us while we were high and in his bed watching a movie :'] he keeps a few behind it, which is one of us brushing our teeth, and another of me sitting on the counter in his kitchen for our 3am cereal. he loves that one because i'm completely dressed in his clothes which are entirely too big on me because he like. a foot taller than me. he also owns a necklece that's a vial of my blood. we actually have matching ones but those are sacred to us so we rarely actually wear them

i have stolen so many of stu's clothes. i have some of his sweaters which i love to wear, and i have stolen some of his button ups. they give me gender euphoria and it's even better since it's my boyfriend's clothes!!! he even purposefully leaves things at my place so he can see me wear them. he's even mailed me his own clothes before lol. i have horror posters up in my room which reminds me of him a lot, he bought me a couple of them actually. and he's gotten me some of the stuffed animals i have. i put a little s charm on the choker i wear all the time too for him. i love keeping him around

wade: he has a folder on his phone of photos of me and photos we've taken together. he takes horrible photos of me btw, like the worst. they're always secret ones that i don't even know how he took? he has a photo of us favorited though and that of me kissing his cheek through his suit mask and he has his hand on his other cheek in surprise. it's a very cute photo! it's from one of the first times i met up with him after he got back from a little thing of his

i keep wade in my day to day life from the few hello kitty plushies i keep in my bed, i always think of him when i go to sleep at night or take a lil nap. i also stole one of his zip up jackets, it's big and comfy, it's a good dysphoria item for me

[cosmicseafoam]

okay okay fuck uh

Humiliation/degradation. there will be the f-slur in here, but it's loving. Name and pronouns change as this progresses.

I'm putting it under a read more bc part of my little fag heart worries this is too much haha

I imagine that when Aeon and Aurora are summoned, they're twins! So exciting to have two new girls in the den.

Aurora is super bubbly, of course. and Aeon is very shy, very reserved, doesn't want to speak much. Looks upset when draped in a pink summoning blanket while Aurora gets purple but everybody just shrugs it off.

Ifrit comes into the ghoul den the next day to be so annoying as per usual, but sees pretty little Aeon sitting there, chewing on her lip anxiously as Aurora forces her to sit there and get her nails painted.

When aurora goes off to grab something, Ifrit pounces. Can tell from the look in Aeons eyes how uncomfortable she is. Recognizes it from how he was before his own transition. He sidles up behind Aeon who is shaking in the chair, leans in to her ear and whispers "Whats a pretty boy like you doing here?" He can see Aeons whole body tense. "I-I'm not a b-" "No? Sorry, you're right. You're not a boy, you're a man. Aren't you? Aren't you so tired of hiding it? Aren't you tired of being soft?" Aeon tries to hold back a whimper as Aurora makes her way back through the door. "Hey, Rora? You mind if I steal this one? I wanna show 'em some guitar stuff?" Aurora grumbles out a response but Ifrit is already dragging Aeon back through the door.

Hanging out with Ifrit becomes a habit. Aeon is mesmerized by the shape of him. So strong, so buff. It starts out tame, Ifrit peeling the little shirt off of Aeons body, dressing them in his oversized tshirts. Tucking their long hair into a cap to hide it. Taking Aeon out on errands in the public town and watching their face light up when someone calls them "sir". Takes note when he notices that Aeon starts wearing their hair tucked up in a cap all around the abbey.

Wrestling in the den when it's just the two of them, Aeon trying their hardest to overpower Ifrit and losing. every. single. time. Ifrit straddling Aeons hips, pinning their arms above their head. "God you're a fucking weak little boy aren't you. You could be so much stronger. Let me make you strong. You deserve to be a strong man." A whimper escapes Aeons mouth with no way for them to stop it. Ifrit looks down to where they're connected, can feel the wetness in their crotch "Are you... are you hard right now? Holy shit you are, you..." Aeon tries to cut it but Ifrit doesn't give him the time "don't deny it anymore. You're a faggot aren't you? I knew it. You can wear those little dresses Aurora puts you in all you want but it doesn't change the fact that you're a man." Ifrit comforts him as he cries.

Stripping them both off in front of the mirror, comparing their bodies. "Who are you trying to hide from, dude? You think the others can't see it? Your attempts at femininity are shallow at best and they can all see through it. You don't have to beg like a dog for things you want in the silence of your room. You're a man, so be a man"

The first time Ifrit gets Phantom face down in his bed, they both see stars. Phantom whimpering and moaning as Ifrit fucks into his cunt with his strap. Can't stop the moan that comes out of him when Ifrit leans in to whisper "Look at you, so handsome. Taking my dick like the fag you are." He goes wide eyed and has the breath knocked out of him when Ifrit grabs him by the ponytail, pushing his face further into the bed as he takes his scissors and cuts his hair off. Phantom stills as Ifrit flashes him the ponytail before throwing it onto the floor. "Look at you, baby, look so good with your short hair. Doesn't that feel better? You don't have to hide the man you are anymore"

Ifrit stripping Phantom of his clothes every morning, laying him down and rubbing tgel into the soft meat of his thighs. Cooing to him, telling him what a good boy he is. Continuing up to spread open his cunt and check on his tdick growth. Sucks him off to get him hard, teaches him how to jack off like real men do.

Stripping him off in front of the mirror again, comparing their bodies, again. Running fingers across the muscles building up on Phantoms arms and across the scars healing on his chest, kissing along his squared up jaw, running a hand down the hair growing on phantoms chest and stomach, all the way down to where his dick peeks out from his cunt.

"Don't you think it's funny how no one questioned it for even a moment? They all knew what you are, a faggot at heart. Doesn't it feel good to see the you that you created? That you always knew you could be?"

i'm having ifrit forcemascing phantom ghoul thoughts again