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valleydoli · 9 months ago

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𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

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awrkive · 1 month ago

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PLEASE LET CNBL COUPLE HAVE THEIR SEXTAPE 🤤 i think oc would be down to that idea but i get why jungkook is taking things slow too but my man is a simp fr he would put it in a loop because he’s obsessed with his girlfriend

i got u anon. ive got an ask about it sometime ago abt what miss cnbl!oc feels about digital s*x or film s*x. thought of an idea. this is 2 years after wncl, which is sorta kinda like the sequel of cnbl lols. anyways this is kinda self indulgent and honestly just an excuse to write smut 😭

summary: jungkook can't bear being away from you, and so you give him a solution

w/c: 2k lol

warning/s: consensual filming, unprotected s*x, cre*mpies

Jungkook can get pretty intense during reunions. In fact, intense is an understatement. He absolutely goes fervent, and you can’t blame him when you missed him just as bad too.

“Ngh– fuck, I miss you so much, baby. I miss you every fucking day,” he groans into your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you at that pace that’s just so right. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just enough to make you keen; to make you grip the sheets behind you so tight. Just enough to not make it hurt when you've already come two times from his mouth and tongue, and another two times from his dick. Consequently, he's already two creampies inside your pussy and it's not even been a full hour.

And just when you thought that he’d be satisfied by the last time, he’s now determined on coaxing a fifth release from you.

Frankly, you don’t know if you can do it. Sure, there was one time last year when he made you cum seven times in a row – and Jungkook still talks about it like a kid high on sugar, mentions it every now and then, keeps on wanting to do it again sometime – but it’s too bad you can’t keep up with him all of the time. Jungkook’s stamina is high and yours isn’t all that exemplary.

But you do try your best to match it because you love it just as well. You love the feeling of his cum shooting inside your hole, him pushing it back into you in that non-overbearing possessive manner, and how he always tells you you’re such a good girl for taking more and more, just letting him give and give.

It’s why you encourage him to get you to cum again – because god, you really also missed him so fucking bad.

He just got back from LA, just arrived at your place five hours ago, and you expected him to sleep the whole night in – not when you know he worked so hard back there. His team just bagged a win, and they’re moving onto semis the next few weeks.

But Jungkook informed you that he had to leave again in six days – had to train across oceans again with the team. Said that he just begged his coach to get him a one-week vacay when others only got four.

It’s not unfair when he’s the star player of the team he’s been winning for in the entirety of the last year. Jungkook’s an NBA player who has gained much bigger success and popularity ever since he got drafted, despite being so young and fresh to the scene.

And sure, he basks in it sometimes – likes the praise, likes the way winning makes him feel. He loves playing for the team. Loves the work that he does.

But one thing he absolutely fucking loathes about it is that he has to fly off across states for a game, and that means leaving the comfort of your shared apartment – leaving you, not being with you.

And so you understand greatly why he’s intense during reunions. Because as much as you’re happy with your current lawyering – in your second year now – you also miss those days back in college when you could just have each other every single day.

“Yes, fuck– oh there, baby, that feels so good…” you moan when he hits a particular spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he encloses his hot mouth around your nipple again, alternating on suckling and nipping around it, his other hand fondling your other boob. But again, Jungkook seems to be so on edge right now that you let out an “Ow!” at one harsh bite.

“Sorry,” Jungkook soothes it with a kiss to the tip, hips still moving against yours, cock going at a steady pace in and out of your pussy. “I just missed you so much, pretty girl. Those calls weren’t enough.” He whispers against your chest, this time lapping at your breasts more gently.

You reach out for the messy locks that sit atop his head, smiling gently down at him even though he can’t see you.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to take a video?” You ask, still caressing his hair.

You don’t expect the way his hips stutter after your question. The quickness in which he peels his head away from your tits to look at you with a surprised face after that is almost laughable but that would be mean of you.

“What?”

“A video. Of us. I dunno… maybe it will do us both good if we have something of us while we’re away from each other.” you shrug nonchalantly.

You both aren’t strangers to sending nudes to each other or sexting in general. Jungkook sends you videos and pictures of his dick a lot of times – unprovoked and even on a random Tuesday at 2 fucking pm. And you send him your tits and risky pictures of you in crotchless panties when you feel like it. (Like when you’re taking a bath and you're feeling a bit raunchy with the soap suds all over your breasts… Jungkook gets so drunk off the pictures that he fucks you so good once he gets ahold of you in person.)

It used to be just tits but you’ve upgraded to pussy pics… hey, it’s just that you’ve grown more comfortable overtime.

Being with Jungkook for three years now, you can say that you’ve tried a lot of things with sex. But somehow… you’ve never really tried making a sex tape.

Sure, Jungkook’s brought it up before. Asked you if you were interested in the idea – but you answerwd with an affirmative no. Photos were okay, but videos were off-limits, and Jungkook was completely fine with that. It is your body, and he understands thoroughly the anxiety that you have behind the idea of sexual digital footprint – you’re a woman after all, there’s ultimately danger as a consequence to the very idea.

It’s not even Jungkook you don’t trust. God, you trust him so much – but it’s this paranoia about imaginary people who are out to get you.

And so that has always held you back.

But right now, as you feel Jungkook’s frustration about the long distance thing as much as his love while he drives you up the headboard with his loving, passionate thrusts, you can’t help but think that maybe you can give this a try.

Filming a sextape, you meant.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook blinks up at you, eyes wide as it opens and blinks continuously.

You chuckle. “Yes. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jungkook smiles shyly, and it’s adorable because he’s literally balls deep in you right now.

“I thought it was no-go.”

“Please,” you roll your eyes playfully– but you’re soon cut off by a particular thrust. Jungkook knows this too, as he begins peppering kisses all over your jaw, humming to let you know he’s still listening. You stammer a little, but you manage to let out a continuation of your sentence, “I let you put your dick in my ass and spit in my mouth. Nothing is no-go between us at this point.”

Your joke may not have been the funniest – as it just further riles Jungkook up by the way he suddenly picks up his speec.

“Oh, fuck, you little minx – you really had to say that, huh?” He emerges from your neck and grabs your jaw – albeit softly. “Get me real fucking hard talking about those.”

“You can do them to me on camera now.” you say, challenging. And you laugh when you feel him literally freeze. But it’s not as funny anymore when his cock throbs inside of you, and suddenly, you feel the urge to cum again. To release one more time.

He recovers quickly from the shock, though. “Yeah?”

You gasp when he plunges his cock back into you, only leaving the first half of his length before he enters again. He repeats that motion until your neck is craned back and your eyes are seeing stars.

“Keep going like that— yes, yes!” You say, starting to get hysterical because you can feel that coil in the pit of your stomach now.

Just a few more pumps and it will come out anytime soon.

“You’re so fucking hot and pretty, look at you.” Jungkook sighs, taking a hold of your hips this time so he can hit deeper. And he does hit deeper, alright – that it doesn’t really take too long before you spasm around his length again, your fifth orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You lie there on the mattress completely lax while Jungkook goes on with a few more erratic trusts until you feel that hot liquid cum shooting straight to your hole.

The both of you mewl in unison at the sensation, with Jungkook kissing your mouth to bask in the moment.

When he breaks away, he caresses your cheek and plants a sweet peck to the tip of your nose.

“We’re filming the sextape tomorrow but can I take a video of your pussy full of my cum right now?” He asks seriously, and his polite tone – as if he’s requesting something at the White House – makes you laugh again. You're so giggly now that he's back. Go figure.

(How you love him so much.)

“Okay.” you say, and you watch as his eyes widen, cock twitching inside your pussy that he still hasn’t pulled out from you yet.

“Fuck, you’re the fucking best.” He says as he picks up his phone from the nightstand.

Turning it sideways, he grips the device with his left hand, turning the camera to your body.

“Just make sure it doesn’t pick up my face, okay?” You say, but nonetheless enjoy the sight of his hooded eyes roaming around your naked body like he’s high on it.

“I know. I’ll do that.” Jungkook murmurs, but you know he’s distracted, especially when you finally get to see the sudden shift in position where he’s kneeling on his calf now in between your spread legs. “Open wider for me, baby, let the camera see how full you are with my cock and cum.”

You hiss at that, and you let Jungkook guide your thigh with his free hand as he helps you spread the two of them wider.

“Hold them for me, princess, just a min.” Jungkook says, folding your knees until they’re all up in your chest. With his help, you relax in that position, waiting for what he does next. “Good. Good girl. Always so behaved…” he trails off, and slowly, he slides out his cock from your heat.

Jungkook thinks your face is the most beautiful he’s ever seen and your pussy stuffed, leaking with his cum is a close second.

“Fuck.” He whispers, making sure the camera captures just how white your pussy is now with his thick cum – a product of five straight orgasms he’d coaxed out from you. He wants to highlight the way your pussy throbs, but sadly with the bad lighting and him using a phone camera, he can’t.

Still, he relishes in the high of seeing you bare like this. With the tip of his cock just right beside your pussy, he slides the crown back to gather all the cum that dripped out, pushing it back into you.

There's an overspill that coats his dick as well, and it’s making him feel things. Like his cock getting hard again even though he just came the second time.

“Oh, Jungkook…” You sigh out, feeling overstimulated now. But as you look at his face, completely distracted, you enjoy the view instead. “You like that, baby?” You ask meekly, thinking that maybe he’d like that when he watches this again.

“So fucking much, you have no fucking idea.” Jungkook huffs. “You’re so full already but there’s still so much leaking out.”

“That’s all of you, Jungkook,” You say sweetly.

“Hm. I know… shit… I just wanna do this everyday.”

“Film is?” You snort.

“Fucking you… being with you. I was going crazy in my hotel room at LA. Just wanna be with you all the time.” He laments. Jungkook presses on the phone and suddenly, he puts it back on the nightstand.

“Awe. Poor baby.” You respond, tapping his forearm, putting your legs down while Jungkook soothes your thighs with gentle rubbing.

You thought he’s done for the night, but suddenly, he says, “Angel, I may have lied. Can we film the sextape tonight, please?”

You laugh. Again. And Jungkook just falls down your body, snuggles close to your chest as you instantly play with his hair.

“Alright.” You say, craning your neck down to press a kiss on the crown of his head.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #fic: cn&bl #cnbl drabbles #jungkook fluff #p; drabbles

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avocado-writing · 3 months ago

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Omg i love your poly Deadpool and Wolverine fics !! I especially love that reader is totally a sunshine ! Could you do any fic with them and that trope ? 😍

vague sequel to this

Your bad day has been utterly forgotten.

It’s not incredibly hard for them to cheer you up, Logan and Wade have learned. You’re so rarely sad that it’s hardly an issue anyway, but all they really need to do is redirect your energy into something else. A distraction to take your mind off of whatever’s gotten under your skin.

There’s a little carnival that’s set up near the apartment. One of those ones which is constantly on the move, overcharges for everything, and is exactly the kind of place you love. So it was a no-brainer to take you there for the evening.

Logan bought you a necklace made of hard candies, Wade took you on all the rollercoasters which were definitely not safe but you screamed with joy while riding. You’d insisted all three of you squeezed into a boat through the tunnel of love, and they’d come out the other side with your lipstick all over their faces, you smugly sandwiched between them.

And through the evening you’ve been fucking jubilant. Your laughter rolls like thunder, but the kind which means a storm is going to clear out the oppressive atmosphere of a muggy day. A sweet, loud kind of laughter which peals from your very soul. Wade and Logan catch each other’s eye as you absolutely decimate a stick of neon blue cotton candy: they’ve done well.

The three of you are preparing to go home when something catches your eye, slowing you to a stop as you stare. It’s a prize booth - the kind where you have to knock over a tower of tin cans to win. Hanging from the rafters are huge plushies of your favourite animal.

“C’mon baby, you know these games are rigged,” Logan sighs, aware he’s marching into a losing battle. You lick the sugar off of your fingers and dump the wooden stick into a garbage bin, eyes wide in the fluorescent lights of the bumper cars nearby.

“Aww… but they’re so cute…” you sigh, looking really disappointed.

Well, neither of them are ones to let that happen, so Logan and Wade find themselves speaking in unison when they say: “I’ll win you one.”

They exchange a look and you grin. Oh. This has become a challenge, and both are too stubborn to back down. Together they step up to the counter, each slamming five dollars down and making the poor teenager manning the booth jump.

“Uh, okay, you have two balls and need to knock the whole tower—”

The teen doesn’t even get a chance to finish their explanation before Logan has launched one of the pathetic beanbags at the cans with such force that it crumples a couple of them in half. They’re cleared off completely in one hit. The attendant can only gawp as he smugly points to one of the huge plushies which is dutifully fetched. You let out a little woop of joy as he passes it into your arms, giving Wade a look which says beat that.

Wade hums, throwing the beanbag up and down in his hand, testing its weight.

“Okay, well, not all of us are barbarians who need to use brute strength to compensate for our advanced age. It’s all about the finesse, pookie.”

Wade angles his throw so it bounces off the side wall, clearing all of the cans but one. Logan lets out a smug huff. Wade frowns.

“Hey, look, is that Spiderman doing full-frontal nudity?” he says, pointing into the distance, distracting the teen with one hand while he whips out a knife with the other and skewers the can to the back of the booth.

“Prize please!” he says when they turn back, turning pale at the sight of what’s been done to their game. They pass him another plushie from the roof with shaking hands, and Wade presents it to you with a flourish.

“That was cheating,” Logan states as the three of you walk away.

“Uh, I cleared the cans, old man. No cheating about it.”

“You had a second ball to throw,” you point out, and Wade pauses.

“Do you want the toy or not, sweetcheeks?”

And that is how you find yourself more stuffed animal than human, waddling out of the carnival with a huge smile and arms full of polyester. The whole thing is sort of ridiculous but, honestly, if you’re smiling? Logan and Wade can agree it’s totally worth it.

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom #Deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader

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beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year ago

Text

Pup Code (18+)

(SEQUEL TO GIRL CODE. Y/N IS NOT THE SAME PERSON)

pairing: college!mingyu x college!reader

genre: college au, smut (MDNI), fluff, crack

description: mingyu doesn't have crushes. he likes avril lavigne and sometimes he fucks pretty girls. but you seem to stir something in him that no one else can. without the trusty girl code, mingyu makes his own code to help you fall in love with him.

warnings: kindddaaa bad writing tihi, service top!mingyu, dom!mingyu, sub!reader ish, size kink (reader is mentioned several times to be smaller than mingyu and several key interactions are based on this fact), oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (dont do it guys...), praise (f. receiving), slight possessiveness?, mingu is soooo in love with y/n, he just wants to make her cum forever :( hes a total dork

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "fuck realistic portrayals of sex with men. im very content with getting exposed to this", "men like this DONT exist",

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: im back and i think ive regained my ability to write. thank u 2 @ryusha-rose for the amazing name for this fic, it ended up becoming a bigger part of the plot, so thank u sm to them tihihihi

This could not be happening.

Forever boring and bland, his friends had opted out of the party, and Mingyu stayed behind alone. Or not alone. He almost wished he were alone, because almost any company (even none!) was better than sitting across from the two idiots before him.

“Truth or dare, Mingyu!” Josh laughed smugly, and Jeonghan held his hand over his mouth, leaning into him. “Ohhhh, truth or dare!”

Mingyu had been down this road before. There was no winning in this scenario, Josh and Jeonghan always attempting to pry embarrassing information from him.

The party had settled down into a low hum. Most people were going home, either humping against another anonymous body as they stumbled out, or walking alone, jacket slung over their arm. There was no reason to stay, really, and torture himself with this circle of hell. Except, of course, for you.

“I don’t wanna do the chicken dance again, so I’m gonna go with truth,” Mingyu pursed his lips, determined to not act a fool in front of you.

He’d always been vaguely aware of you, but tonight had been his first time really sitting down with you. Contrary to your two best friends, you were cool and charming, and you didn’t seem like you wanted to embarrass him. This was already gaining you Mingyu-points, but he was absolutely taken aback by your humor and your smile and he, giddily, found himself liking you.

Mingyu didn’t usually like people - not like he had always liked Avril Lavigne (there was a poster commemorating that crush in his dorm room) - so this felt big. He was nervous, hands clammy as they slid down his jeans.

“Tell us about your first time,” Joshua asked innocently, mischief given away by how the older man cackled and slapped his arm. You watched in amusement, eyes flickering over to him, lashes coming over them in long, black lengths. He struggled to breathe when you held his eyes, so he sucked in a breath and looked at the floor, blushing. Damn it, he was already making a fool of himself.

“That’s so rude, Josh!” you said and threw a random chip at him. It hit him on the cheek and he groaned, face scrunching up in disgust. “Ask him something nicer.”

“You’re so boring, Y/n.”

Mingyu looked at you gratefully and you returned a warm smile to him.

“Yuck!” Jeonghan quacked from his seat between you and Josh. “You guys get a room! I can’t believe I let this stupid kids’ game take away from my boning.”

“You’re so gross!” you groaned.

“Josh was gonna hook me up with this girl from his class, dude,” Jeonghan continued complaining, forever going on about his ‘sexual conquests’. “Now I’m sitting with you dorks and you won’t even let us bully Mingyu.”

“Mingyu’s nice, you guys are just assholes,” you said, gesturing towards Mingyu with your beer. Mingyu was horrified.

Now was the time. Now was the moment to return the compliment; to say anything that might flatter you and defend you from the crooks that you apparently spent your time with.

Now, this was a bit embarrassing for Mingyu. He had recently been adopted by a female friend group - some might even call him one of the girls, but alas! - so one would think he knew all about girls and how to approach them. The truth was, Mingyu was clueless. Beyond his daydreams of Avril Lavigne, and a few casual flings here and there, he had never actually been put in this situation.

Mingyu thought about his girl-friends, thought about their advice and their critiques, and he knew. He knew it would frankly disappoint them if he came to them with no expertise, nothing learned from the countless girls’ nights. Therefore, he had to take matters into his own hands.

“T-Thanks,” Mingu stuttered, lisping across the word. “Y-You’re also great.”

Fuck, he was an idiot.

You grinned at him and the sight of your beautiful smile, your shining skin and your gently falling hair was almost enough for him to miss how Josh and Jeonghan were lifting themselves off the floor in disgusted groans.

“Alright, time to go. Shoo now, back to your dorms. Peasants.” _____________________________

Mingyu didn’t need his girl-friends.

He repeated this in his head for days, like a spiritual mantra, and maybe, he hoped, maybe he would start believing it. You and him had one mutual class and he counted down the days before he could swoop in and talk to you casually, flirtatiously, and seductively.

With the absence of the very helpful girl code (it had certainly helped his friend, Jihoon, with his crush!) Mingyu discovered and consulted a new code. Mingyu code.

He spent his days diligently writing down his own best advice. Some rules were more helpful than others.

“Mingyu code rule 3: always wash your hands after a shower,” he hummed to himself with a small, satisfied smile, while scrubbing his hands in the steamed up bathroom.

“Mingyu code rule 12: go on bike rides frequently for a better jawline!” he panted, hunched over his bike, and pedalling through the nearby park in the beating sun.

Now, Mingyu was mumbling all of his new-found rules to himself, books pressed into his chest, while he approached you in class. It was the middle of the day, and the class hadn’t started yet, people still filing in from the halls. Thankfully, you were sitting alone on your phone, both Jeonghan and Joshua nowhere to be seen. The universe was working with him.

But he was still sweaty and nervous and breathing unevenly when he finally reached you. Remember the code, he reminded himself, remember to be cool and calm.

“Hey...” he whispered, and then, louder: “Hey.”

You looked up from your phone, smiling brightly when you saw him. For such a huge man, you realized he could look quite small.

“Hey, Mingyu!” you said cheerfully, settling your phone down on the table before you. He shuffled to sit down next to you, jacket rustling against the wood. Your seat was near the back, so the hall felt great and wide, and a little bit like an audience to his fumbling.

Rule 14, he remembered sneakily, always wear a jacket, so girls (Y/n) will marvel at your muscles when you take it off!

Mingyu moved to take off his jacket, eyeing you as he did so, in what he certainly thought was a sultry and sexy look. You blinked back up at him, smiling.

Oh shit.

Something was caught on- on something! Stuck with the jacket halfway down his arm, Mingyu began struggling and writhing in it, warmth spreading across his cheeks. You smiled at him fondly, biting back a chuckle.

“Do you need help?” you asked. “No- No, I got it, uh-”

You moved to help anyway, tugging a corner of the jacket off the design of the chair, and he stared at you widely, because you were suddenly so close to him and so cool and calm and pretty, and your fingers danced along his skin. He breathed out a heavy sigh when it finally slid off his arms, furrowing his brows in embarrassment.

“You’re clumsy, huh?” you teased, settling back in your seat and Mingyu chuckled dryly.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, and to his delight and surprise, you laughed. You had a loud laugh. It ripped itself from your throat and bounced off the walls of the classroom. He smiled proudly at how your face contorted in joy.

“You’re funny, Gyu,” you said, stilling finally and he swore his heart galloped in his chest at the nickname. You were so pretty and so sweet, and he wanted to hug you so bad. He grinned, then looked around the room.

“Where are Joshua and Jeonghan?”

“God knows,” you snorted. “I think they’re poisoning the water supply of some third world country, but I could be wrong.”

It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh, and how couldn’t he? Because you were so smart and so gorgeous, and he truly didn’t understand how he was smitten by you so fast. There was something humbling about spending all his freetime scrolling through Instagram photos and giggling when you smiled prettily at the camera.

Next step in Mingyu code was a little tip he’d borrowed from the countless renditions and repeats of the “Jihoon story”; a heartfelt confession.

Wait a minute. Was he skipping a few steps? Surely- Oh yeah, he definitely was. He couldn’t help but want to skip to cuddling, but going from step one to seven was maybe a bit of a stretch. Jogging his brain for his ultimate “confession for Y/n” gameplan, Mingyu didn’t even notice the lull in the conversation, while he stared at you with furrowed brows and a pout.

“So, uh,” you began awkwardly, and Mingyu finally snapped out of his daze. Shit, he was being a dork again. “You coming to the party on Friday?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there. Jus’.. Love partying.”

There was no salvaging this.

“Alright,” you giggled, confused, and finally turned your eyes to the board when the professor began speaking.

Friday, he thought, gulping down the shame. Friday I make some serious moves. _____________________________

Mingyu was not making serious moves. In fact, he wasn’t making any moves at all.

He’d never felt more strange, standing on the edge of the dancefloor and bending his knees awkwardly to the rhythm of the music. His limbs were mile long stretches and they swung uselessly around him. He looked almost lost, but, of course, it was only Soonyoung’s house.

“You okay, man?” Wonwoo, his roommate, padded up beside him, eyeing him warily through the lens of his glasses. “Are you on something?”

“No, I’m not on something!” Mingyu huffed, stopping his frankly pathetic dance moves and looking directly at the man before him. “I just… You know that girl Josh and Jeonghan are always hanging out with?”

Wonwoo nodded.

“I kind of.. Really.. Like her.”

“What?!” Wonwoo exclaimed, completely forgoing his drink to look at Mingyu in bewilderment. “You haven’t liked anyone since Avril Lavigne!”

“I know! But this girl’s just really smart and cool and funny,” Mingyu smiled shyly, eyeing you where you sat with Josh and Jeonghan, as well as two girls he didn’t recognize - oh, wait, no, Jeonghan and one of the girls were leaving together. Just you, Josh and the blonde then. Wait, no, now Josh was leaving with the blonde. Just you.

Wonwoo saw how Mingyu’s eyes brightened with opportunity and he smiled beneath the rim of his plastic cup.

“Wait! Wonwoo! You can wingman me!” Mingyu exclaimed suddenly, hoping the older man’s presence might ease the interaction.

“What? No!” Wonwoo grimaced.

“Why not?”

“You don’t deserve my services, Mingyu! Not after what you did to me!”

“We’ve talked about this, the Jihoon-story is a very sweet thing and you should be happy to have been a part of it-”

“I’m talking about the other time. Or the other-other time!”

Mingyu slumped, a pout on his pink lips. Wonwoo softened, but stayed steadfast nonetheless.

“Listen, just go talk to her. I have a girl waiting for me upstairs, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” the older man said softly, patting his shoulder while a drink was clutched in his other hand, liquid dancing against the cup-walls when he wafted his hand.

“I would be more okay if you wing-manned me-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo murmured, walking away towards the stairs. Mingyu sighed and looked over at you. You were chewing your lip, face lit by the screen of your phone.

“Mingyu code rule 17: Confidence is key. Confidence is sexy,” Mingyu reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut and beginning to walk over to you. “You’re hot, Mingyu. You have big muscles and a pretty face.”

Mingyu could’ve almost convinced himself, but when he opened his eyes, legs mindlessly padding closer to you, you were so pretty and so intoxicating, he faltered completely.

“H-Hi,” he stammered, brows immediately pulling up in disdain at himself. You looked up and smiled immediately, face shining bright. “Hi, Gyu! Come sit down with me!”

He nodded dumbly, and squeezed in beside you. His muscly arms were pressed into himself and leaning on his thighs, and he tried to compose his features into something sexy and sultry, when he turned to look at you. You smiled in a sort of knowing way that had Mingyu dropping his face immediately.

“You enjoying the party?” he rasped, turning to look out at the crowd. You pursed your lips and looked at it with him. “Not sure. It’s kind of boring and Josh and Jeonghan just left.”

“Yeah, I saw,” he sighed, then widened his eyes. Oh God, he thought, what if you thought he was a total creep - a creepster - staring at you from across the room all creepily. “Not that I- I wasn’t- I just saw it, like, casually across the roo-”

“Mingyu, do you want to take me out on a date?”

Huh?

“Huh?”

Mingyu didn’t know if he was hearing that right. The words had come so naturally and so casually from your mouth, and now you were staring at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and waiting expectantly for him to answer.

“Do you want to take me out on a date?” you repeated, shrugging your shoulders, as if it were just the weather. Mingyu stared at you with whole, wide eyes, and swallowed hard. Clammy hands gripped his knees.

“Yeah,” he breathed, laughing awkwardly. His mouth was so dry and his heartbeat was almost painful in his chest, although the tensions were eased when smiled sympathetically. “I mean- if you want to-”

“I want to go on a date with you too, Mingyu,” you reassured, smiling even wider when his lips mimicked your own.

“Oh my God, okay, so, I was thinking Olive Garden-” Mingyu giggled, and his pure expression of joy was infectious, genuinely making your heart soar, as this huge, muscly man bounced on the couch cushions. He cut himself off halfway, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, wait, how did you know?”

“How did I know what?” you frowned.

“That I like you?”

Your immediate reaction was to snort. This only confused Mingyu further, so you elected to respond truthfully: “Mingyu, you always look at me so longingly, seriously-”

“That- those were sexy faces!” he pouted.

“No, they were longing and tender. Like pull-apart meat. And then sometimes you do the- the Zoolander face-”

“I’ve never done the Zoolander face in my life!”

“And all your moves are so obvious, Gyu,” you watched how he slumped at those comments, a little, pitiful pout on his lips, all deflated like a puppy. You reached a hand over to caress his arm, warm and hard with muscle under your fingertips. Mingyu immediately leaned into your touch, pout being replaced with a small goofy smile. “It was very endearing, though. You’re very cute.”

“I was going for sexy,” Mingyu said, mood lifted at your compliment, but still a little pouty.

“Then go sexy on our date,” you squeezed his bicep in your hand and he perked up. “Now that you know I like you too.”

Hearing those words, that admission, Mingyu smiled to himself.

Mingyu Code; he truly was genius. _____________________________

“So no Olive Garden?” you quipped, standing outside of a more upscale restaurant - candlelit and warm and Italian. Mingyu shook his head. He’d thought Olive Garden would woo any girl, but after triumphantly boasting to his girl-friends (mothers), that he’d gotten a date with a girl he liked, he’d been nothing but scolded by the restaurant choice (“A girl wants to feel pampered! Olive Garden is for post-6-month-relationships!” Yeri had squawked).

“Not until in six months,” Mingyu said, shrugging when you lifted a brow in question. Cars were bustling past where you were standing on the sidewalk. Grass sprouted from the cracks in the cement and people idled past where the two of you were facing each other, your head craning up to his. “Wanna go inside?” he asked.

Mingyu had become more at ease, following your admission. You liked him too, he tried to remember, whenever the butterflies batting around his curving ribcage became too much. And it was becoming too much now, with how your lips spread in a smile and you nodded at him.

You walked in, hand in hand. The tables were fine, polished wood and there was a slightly-stained, white tablecloth draped over the rounded surface of the table. Sneakily, Mingyu nudged some salt and pepper shakers over the yellow splotches on the fabric, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and that you’d feel pampered. You were busy looking at the menu.

Mingyu asked about everything - not because of Girl Code or Mingyu Code or whatever other bullshit way to woo a woman. No, he asked because he was sincerely and utterly interested in you, what made you you, what habits you got from your childhood, what made you choose your major, how you knew Josh and Jeonghan. You were so beautiful in the light of the restaurant, but more importantly, you were the most infatuating individual Mingyu had ever laid his eyes on. Maybe even more so than Avril Lavigne.

You got to talking about Mingyu Code.

“Well, it was because of my friends. They have Girl Code, right?”

“Yeah, that’s God’s rules,” you hummed, sipping on a soda.

“Mhm, and my friend followed Girl Code and he got with this girl he really liked.”

“Mhm.”

“But I decided to make Mingyu Code. Which is about being sexy and charming.”

“You were none of those things,” you teased, but Mingyu had gained confidence and he leaned back in his seat with a smirk, stretching out his arms, as if gesturing to the restaurant.

“Well, I beg to differ. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am,” you smiled, admitting defeat. “Although I don’t think you were following Mingyu Code.”

“Yes, I was, I made it. I’m the founder of that shit,” Mingyu grimaced.

“Well, if Mingyu Code is about being sexy, then you definitely accidentally followed some other code.”

“Wha-”

“Puppy code. You’re like a big, clumsy puppy. Yeah,” you nodded to yourself, satisfied with your new name for Mingyu’s terrible, horrible guide to wooing you. “Pup Code.”

“Why does everyone call me that?” Mingyu whined, crossing his arms and pouting. Your plates were empty and streaks of cream sauce sludged up the sides of the porcelain.

“You give off major himbo vibes,” you said.

“I’m smart, though,” Mingyu huffed. You smiled fondly at his bratty expression.

“I know you are.”

Mingyu caught your eye and caught the sincerity in them, and it made his whole body ache and flutter. You liked him too, it was clear and not something Mingyu had to tell himself, it was right there, right behind your retina, twinkling at him.

“Do you wanna..?” Mingyu trailed off, pointing his thumb to the door. You pursed your lips.

“What if I wanna take it slow?” You asked, and it was almost adorable how Mingyu’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently and seriously.

“That’s okay! We can- we can totally do that,” he said decidedly, as if it weren’t a bother at all (because it wasn’t).

“Okay,” you nodded, letting go of your now finished drink. “But if I want you to take me to your room right now and fuck me?”

Mingyu whipped his head to yours, the way a door bursts open. You saw him swallow, throat dry and heavy, and biting his lip.

“That- That would be okay, too,” Mingyu said shakily, blushing furiously. Images flashed his mind of you in less-than-sacred scenarios, and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward them away.

“Okay, then let’s go,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“To my room?” He almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.”

“Okay, fuck, let me just pay.”

Mingyu didn’t think he’d ever paid and left a restaurant so fast, and he was enamored with you enough to completely skip the step where he contemplated whether or not the staff secretly hated him. You and him walked hand in hand, as he practically dragged you through the street back to the dorms, his long legs working faster and more efficiently than your own. You half wanted to complain at the brutal pace, but you couldn’t lie. You needed him just as much as he needed you. And he knew that too.

Thankfully the restaurant wasn’t too far from the dorms, and Mingyu had frantically texted Wonwoo to “get out or he’d be squirted with semen” (a threat that Wonwoo didn’t need to hear twice!), so after ten minutes and some sore legs on your part, Mingyu and you scrambled into his room.

Mingyu liked the privacy, you realized, because it wasn’t until the door was closed, and you both were sealed away in the Mingyu-zone, that he finally walked up to you, hands finding your waist with a confidence you didn’t think possible for him.

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispered, somewhat out of breath from the climb up the stairs. You smiled at him. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.”

And then he pounced. His plush lips were soft and well-moisturized, and his annoying, perfect nose brushed against yours; in fact his whole stupidly gorgeous face was pressed into yours, as your lips thrummed together, and you were conjoined into one being by the lips.

His hands ran up and down your sides, finally taking hold firmly, only to pull you into his lap when he settled on the edge of his bed. You straddled his lap, as your lips danced, his tongue peeking out to enter your mouth. You moaned gratefully. Involuntarily, your hips rolled into his, and the jolt reverberated all the way up to his lips where he cried out and panted against your mouth.

“You’re so pretty,” he said in between heated kisses.

“So are you,” you said. He pulled away and smiled up at you, and he was truly worthy of the puppy-title, because his grin was so goofy and his eyes twinkled and he was so warm against you, it almost hurt.

Carefully, he pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts over your t-shirt, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes. “Can I eat you out?”

The way he said it like he was completely and totally enamored with you (he was), like it was in this very moment of sitting on his lip and running your hands up his huge arms, that he was falling in love with you (it was), almost made you bashful. Your smile, usually cheeky and teasing, came small and shy.

“Yeah, I-I wouldn’t mind that at all,” you responded, cursing at yourself for letting your confidence falter. However joy spread on Mingyu’s face like the ever-expanding universe spreads into endless empty space, because for once the tables were turned, and you were right underneath his hands, and he was flustering you.

It had him pushing you onto his bed, head falling into the depths of his pillow, and working at your skirt to shimmy it down your legs. You lifted your hips in help and soon enough that and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Mingyu, with his black tee and his big arms and his sweetest-hottest face on Earth, settled between your legs with a dumb grin.

“I can’t believe-” he cut himself off with a satisfied sigh, staring at your pussy. You were pushing yourself up by your arms, looking at the man-child between your legs just staring at your core as if it were his most prized possession. “I-I can’t believe I get to have you like this. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Mingyu’s face fell (it was almost comical), and his eyes snapped up to yours. “Wait, are you mine? You are mine, right?”

You giggled fondly. “Yeah, I’m yours, Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s grin returned immediately and he nodded happily, eyes turning back to your pussy.

“It’s so pretty,” he sighed, fangs poking out where his smile ended. One finger ran through your folds, wet from the making out and all the heated stares from lovedumb Mingyu. You whined a little at the pressure when his finger reached your clit. He was so close you could feel him panting against it.

“Mingyu, please, stop staring at it, and do something,” you cried and Mingyu pursed his lips and nodded. “Right, yeah, sorry.”

And then he dived in.

His nose pressed into your clit as soon as he pushed his head in, tongue stuck out to lick at your folds. Your hands flew to his hair, a desperate moan leaving you. It was a little embarrassing how loud he was, huffing and puffing at your pussy, but you couldn’t complain when his tongue traced up from your hole to your clit, lips wrapping around it.

“A-Aah, M-Mingyu-” you cried and pushed his head further into your core, while your hips canted off the mattress. The press of his nose was amazing, and his breaths danced across your nerves. “S-Shit, that feels so good.”

Mingyu was totally lost in you though. Your taste on his tongue, your soft thighs underneath his hands where he pushed you apart, your moans, and the desperation in your movements. The fact that you were so catty and witty, but with a few flicks of his tongue, your facade fell and you became a whiny, desperate mess, begging for him. And he loved to give it to you. He loved that you felt good, he loved being the one to make you feel good. Lapping and panting into your pussy, Mingyu started to think he didn’t ever need to leave. You could just feel good forever! The logic was flawless.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried and you came on his tongue, cum seeping out of your sopping pussy. Mingyu, strong and tan and shiny Mingyu, didn’t stop though. Too enchanted by your soft moans and your nail in his roots, and your juices on his lips, he kept at it, tongue-fucking you to slurp up the cum.

“M-Mingyu-” you whimpered softly, and his only response was a grunt, and one hand sliding off your thighs to prod at your entrance. “M-Mingyu, I-I already came!” you cried, more insistent.

“You can cum again,” he mumbled gruffly, two fingers pushing into you. The feeling was so intense your voice became strangled and your chest pushed off his bed.

“Just say if you wanna stop, then I’ll stop,” his tone was almost challenging, as he pulled his face away from your dripping pussy and his fingers stilled inside you to give you a chance to answer. You looked down at him, panting, as he waited expectantly. Your ��stop’ didn’t come.

“That’s what I thought,” Mingyu grinned again, and God, this time it was sexy; not endearing, not awkward, not clumsy. It was so incredibly hot and he dived right back to your pussy, tongue swaddling your folds and fingers beginning to pump in and out.

Your clit grinded against his face, slick smearing all over him, but he didn’t seem to care one bit, your cum on his cheek and two fingers working inside you, curling into your g-spot. “Cum again,” he gasped in between sucking on your clit with pointed lips. “Cum again, I wanna hear it again. You sounded so pretty, please, cum again. On my fingers now.”

And he was rambling for sure, but it was working for you, because for the second time that night, a knot tightened in your belly and the string were pulled tighter and tighter with each lick and suck, and eventually it snapped, and your whole body spasmed and your pussy pulsated around his thick fingers.

This time, he did stop. You closed your eyes and heaved for air, lying completely still in the sheets of his bed and panting for air. Mingyu smiled cheekily, pulling his fingers out of your sensitive pussy and licking them clean. As if it was nothing. As if it was juice from a popsicle, his tongue peaked out and he sucked your essence off of them, groaning at its taste.

“Can you go on again? You taste so good,” he hummed, eyeing your fucked-out state. Your cheeks were flushed and strands of hair stuck to your sweaty face. You shook your head. “No, no, I want your cock now.”

“Anything for you,” Mingyu agreed, shuffling to take his clothes off while you regrouped.

It was not long before he was climbing over your body, so fucking huge and covering your entire form in his own, muscles flexing when he lowered himself onto you. As if by nature, Mingyu, tan and glistening in the bedside lamp, grabbed you by under your knees and pushed them to your chest, pressing them into you.

“Wanna fuck you like this,” he pressed a kiss to one of the knees that was now folded over you. “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Please!” you sobbed, because the position, and his strong hands holding you there, and your own slick covering his face had your pussy dripping onto his bed, and you could practically feel the heavy presence of his dick, even if it wasn’t touching you yet.

Mingyu tilted his head as he looked down at you. You were so easy to admire. It was so easy for him to fall into every little jerk and breath and crevice of your face, and you looked so beautiful underneath him, Mingyu started to think he wanted nothing more for the rest of his life than to make you feel this good.

“Okay,” he whispered, and only then did you notice how he stared at you, because there was something very tender in his voice. Adoration poured directly from his heart and into you.

Before you could get lost in his warm eyes, he moved one hand down to steer his dick into you. You cried out when you felt it pressing against your slit, cried even more when it started pressing into you.

You had suspected Mingyu might be big, but nothing could’ve prepared you for each inch that seemed to endlessly plunge into your heat. Stretching you out like a rubber band, Mingyu finally bottomed out in you, his hard pelvis resting against your mound.

“Shit, Gyu, y-you’re so fucking big,” you gasped, and then opened your eyes to see him smirking proudly. It made you giggle. He hummed giddily, looking down at your stomach.

“You’re just so fucking small,” he said then, pressing one hand to your stomach, and then groaning when he could feel his dick inside you. “Shit.”

At that, Mingyu started pounding into you. His pace was fucking relentlessly, something seemingly awakened in him at the bulging in your stomach. “Shit, shit, shit, my tiny, pretty baby, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

The praise had you reeling into him, it had you crying out and gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, while he worked up a sweat pistoning in and out of your pussy. You moans were shaken from the impact of his dick in your pussy. “Shit, so fucking tight, can hardly fucking take me.”

“G-Gyu, f-fuck-”

“But you’ll take it, hm? Fuck, I wanna make you cum so much more, jus’ have you in my room, making you cum over n’ over again. Shit.”

You had not pegged Mingyu as a dirty talker, and you weren’t even sure if he was aware of what he was doing. Something about having his dick inside you, warm walls just pulled one dirty slew of words out after another. He’d never fucked a girl like this, never felt compelled to tell her exactly what she was doing to him. Not like with you.

You were so gorgeous to him, the way your chest bounced, and your eyes were screwed shut and how your mouth was opened in continuous, strained moans. It was how your hair bunched up on his pillow, and how your skin felt against his, and how you clenched at every word he spewed, while grinded into you like you were the only other person in the world.

“F-fuck, my pretty fucking baby, you’re mine, right? Say it and I’ll make you cum forever, jus’-” he groaned, as your pussy clenched down on him extra tight. His pace fell and his hands on your knees dug into the skin. “Jus’ say you’re mine, please, Y/n.”

“I-I’m yours, Gyu!” you cried out, his pace speeding up again and another orgasm bubbled in your stomach, and you pussy clenched embarrassingly hard for embarrassingly long. “Only yours, fuck.”

“That’s right. Cum again, let- let me hear it one more time, yeah?”

You came. Again. Clenching down so hard, and face twisting in pleasure, cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, still inside you.

Your third orgasm was a melodious song, and you moaned to it so loudly, you knew people three halls over would be wondering what was going on. But you could care less, letting his presence, his smell, his being above you drag more bursts of pleasure out of your body.

Your breathing calmed down again, your soul traveling down from a sky-high mountain, and you started to feel it all again. Your orgasm had been so blinding, you had lost all of your senses but the blinding white explosion in your stomach, and now sighed heavily, pushing yourself up a little.

To your surprise, Mingyu’s hold on your knees didn’t let up, and it took you a moment to realize that his dick was still extremely hard inside you. He hadn’t cum yet.

“Want you to cum again,” Mingyu smiled sheepishly, adjusting his position to be able to pound into you again. You looked at him incredulously, and he chuckled a little, shrugging. “Just say if you want to stop.”

“Safe word is ‘pup’.”

#mingyu x reader #svt mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #svt mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #svt smut #svt x reader #mingyu fluff #svt fluff #mingyu x you #svt x you

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eirakairos · 2 months ago

Text

Leader of Onychinus

After Sylus was ambushed, you chose to take the reigns in being the de facto leader of Onychinus.

A/N: This was inspired by a post I saw in Tiktok about a text message with Sylus about MC teasing him into taking over Onychinus. This is a kinda serious side of it, but I kinda let loose on this one because it is not leaving my head for days. This is the first time I'm writing about L&DS and I'm still trying to learn the lore (also my phone cannot take the game well).

Words: 3,295

Tags: A bit revenge and hurt/comfort, Sylus being incapacitated, MC being ruthless, minor violence and injury, promises being bent

Next (Sort of sequel!)

You sighed as you stared at the window where the man you cherished was bedridden. Never in your dreams would you see the powerful leader of Onychinus Sylus was this… Unconscious.

Gripping on the black coat with red streaks you are wearing, you remember the nightmare a week ago.

“Sylus!” You run as fast as your feet can drag you. You were in the medical section of the base, specifically tailored for Sylus in case of… Such dire situations happen. As you are near the room, the twins quickly shielded your path as the medical staff went to tend to the severely injured leader.

“Hey!” You said, a bit louder due to panic. “I want to see him!”

“They are working on it,” Kieran said. Both twins looked pretty banged up as well.

“What happened?!”

“It was an ambush,” Luke answered. “Boss saw this coming but it's not this… Massive,”

“I guess we have to get through all the connections and see the rats that did this,” Kieran followed. You learned from the twins that there was an orchestrated attack from rival factions. You know he has many enemies in the N109 Zone even though he rules the entire area.

“This is a high priority, but you shouldn’t be here for now. We will place you in the emergency bunker,” Kieran said.

“And why should I follow that?” You crossed your arms and gave a stern look.

“Because Boss said so,” Luke followed. “You don’t know how dire the situation is, the leader of Onychinus is incapacitated… Or presumed dead. Many would take grabs for it,”

“And it was planned by the Boss that you would be in the emergency bunker to be sent back to Linkon and not go back in the meantime,”

“What?! No!” You interjected. “Who will lead Onychinus?! Sylus would be fine… Right?” The twins only kept silent to her question, for any reassurance.

Days later, Sylus went basically into a coma to give time and heal his injuries. You thought it was this bad, you shot him when you first met him, but he just went along with it. Him being like this, it is this bad.

You know he will survive and just need to heal. But for now, the zone is currently in more chaos, as rumors were being thrown around that the leader is down and many would want to get that immense power to rule the N109 Zone.

Walking to the next business meeting, you remembered that conversation with the twins in the mansion.

“Are you mocking us or what?” Luke said upon hearing it. “We can’t do that,” Kieran said. It was two days after the attack. Sylus is stable and was kept hidden, no one but the staff, the twins and you know.

“You will, if you want Onychinus to survive,” You said.

“We gave our word to our Boss, same as yours,” Kieran said.

“He doesn’t need to know. I just need your promise in this,” You said.

“Boss will know, you know?” Luke said. “He ordered us that in a situation where Onychinus is in danger, we should return you safely in Linkon whatever it takes, whether you like it or not,”

“And you promised him that you would follow us and not look back,” Kieran followed.

“And I will once this is over,” You stood up and walked back and forth. “I’m not confident either, but I will do whatever it takes… This is important to him,”

The twins looked at each other. You know they are doubtful about this but they just kneel in front of you. Mephisto flies and surprisingly, perched on your shoulder.

“We are at your service… Boss,”

You took a deep breath after beating up the boss of one of the rival factions that attacked Onychinus. It took a while before you got used to the heavy coat and crow mask you are wearing. You pointed the gun at the boss, who is bloodied and pleading for his life. “Give up! The former Onychinus boss is dead! You can’t keep doing this-!” He screamed but stopped because of the pull of the trigger causing birds to fly away from the abandoned building, except for Mephisto who was your eyes above.

“Good work, boss,” Luke said after swinging the bat that he randomly found. “One more rat and the deed is done,” Kieran said. You nodded, but you were less verbal when using the mask. It does have the voice change capability of a man, similar to the pitch of Sylus’.

“Still can’t believe that she is far scarier and ruthless than Boss,” Luke whispered. “Can’t believe that we are finishing the entire list,”

“Boss is not usually direct to violence this much… Unlike her,” Kieran said. Both shuddered. Who would’ve thought that the person who hugs a crow plushie and banters with Mephisto can hurt, make decisions, and manage an organization like this?

“Though I must say, for her to expand Onychinus’ power more is a bonus,” Luke said. They were silent after, hoping for the former boss to wake up soon.

“Okay, one last rat for Onychinus,” Luke said as he stretched his body before Kieran chuckled and followed.

Since the event, you’ve been busy. You knew that being the leader in an organization where you control everything, is harder than it looks. You knew Sylus’ schedule was booked, you were touched to realize that he still makes time for you despite that. You missed him so much. You often visit him and be updated about his progress, which is good. It is only a week, you believe he will wake up soon.

It was also only a week since you started to plan the retaliation against the factions that did this to Sylus. Honestly, Sylus would orchestrate a much more strategic and long satisfaction for their destruction, but you are no Sylus, they almost took away the one you love and cherished the most.

You breathe through the mask as you go into a huge building with the twins.

“That text message, are you seriously interested in taking over Onychinus?” Sylus asked while you were snuggling to him. You are at the rooftop with him, watching over the little stars and the gloom of the city. “No, it is all dirty business,” you replied. “But you know, what if? You think I can take it?”

Sylus chuckled. “If you want to, you can have a test drive,”

He turned to face you. “But… If ever something happens and Onychinus goes down, go back to Linkon and never return,” You looked at him, he was serious this time.

“What do you mean? I can’t leave you behind!” You said.

“Promise me,” he said, like there is no room for argument.

“I… Okay,” You sighed and cupped his face, understanding what he meant.

Sylus' breathing changes as he has the energy to open his eyes. His wounds and bruises are gone due to his self-healing but he felt immense pain still. The medical staff saw his vitals and went to check on his status, while also sending a message to the twins about him being conscious.

You were panting as you held on your side, you could feel it throbbing in pain and the wetness in your hand. You are bleeding from an attack. The twins are preoccupied but they are thinking internally to come to your aid. Your vision felt blurry, just this one last victory, and when Sylus wakes up, he’ll see Onychinus is well, despite that you have to go back to Linkon. The life you owe him, this is not the time to repay it.

“Urgent message from the medical team: The big crow is flying.” is heard from your mask. You gasped, that is a code meaning Sylus is awake! The twins probably had heard the news, seeing them fighting more vigorously. You panted and ready the gun you have, you can’t be undone in this. He is awake and you should be too.

Sylus can hear the footsteps as the twins barge in. “Boss!” they both yelled. Sylus only hummed as he looked so much better than before. “It seemed you two went to such a fun party,”

“Well, definitely a hard, fun party!” Luke cheerily said then groaned a bit.

After giving him a report of what happened since they are monitoring Onychinus while he is gone. Sylus only hummed, he was internally surprised but processed it well.

There was silence then…

“How is she?”

The twins looked at each other and then back at him. “She is well. She is in Linkon, as you ordered,”

“Good,”

You groaned in pain as you were resting back in Linkon. It’s been a couple of days since the last mission and you are sent back here after the medical staff bandaged your wounds. Now Sylus is awake and is back being the leader of Onychinus, your days as the de facto leader are over.

Your hand went over to the side of your torso, where the biggest damage was. You wondered how they are now, you learned he is well but you haven’t seen him since.

Your phone rang. It was Sylus.

“It has been a while, kitten,”

“Sylus…” You missed that voice so much.

“Luke and Kieran will fetch you in half an hour. Get ready,” he said.

He didn’t take the conversation longer, he is probably a lot busier than ever. Half an hour later, the cars arrive and the twins meet you as you go down.

“Nice to see you again, are you feeling good?” Luke asked. You smiled. “Of course, how has it been?” You said as you got in the car, then the twins followed. You pretended to be fine, as you were still feeling pain from the wound in your torso.

“Oh, man! We were very busy! But Onychinus is well!” he replied. You smiled more, feeling that sense of relief that all of you did the missions successfully.

After arriving in the mansion, Sylus is there waiting. He is awake and well like nothing happened. “Welcome back, sweetie,”

You ran and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the moment as well. He missed holding you, he had to make sure you were safe enough to return, and upon doing that, there’s so much going on.

“I missed you… So much,” You whispered. Sylus’ hand went to your back and rubbed for comfort.

“You don’t trust me that I’ll be back? You shot me before you know,” he chuckled.

“You dummy, I know you will be back! It's just… I'm worried about you… You might not wake up,”

Sylus hummed as you released your embrace. Then, he sat down with you on his lap. “So… Kitten, fill me in the details when I was gone,”

“Well, I was just waiting for you when the twins called and said you were hurt… Then… I… I was not let in the medical bay, they told me you were unconscious but are healing fast. Despite my protest, the twins dragged me back to Linkon as you ordered,”

“Surprised that you were that obedient, kitten,” Sylus said. “The twins handled it well. They told me they kept you updated and gave your inputs in the operations,” he pats your head. You nodded in agreement, despite you having done so much more than that.

“Well, how do you want to spend the day? Going outside? To the cafe? Or just like this?” He asked.

You were still feeling exhausted from the last battle and being the leader. You just wanted to feel Sylus’ presence. “Just like this for now… Just with you,” Sylus nodded and carried you in bridal style to his bed. You squeaked in surprise and quickly hid the pain from the wound on your side.

“... Are you alright?” Sylus asked.

You quickly went back to your composure. “Yeah, yeah, I was just startled,” You giggled. Sylus stared at you then continued.

Sylus and you didn’t leave the room after a couple of hours, just sleeping and cuddling together. You feel happiness when you get to be close like this to him again. ‘Despite you being the most feared and strongest out there, I would want to protect you,’ you thought.

It was a happy week before you returned back to Linkon for normal activities. You felt relieved that the entire stay, Sylus didn’t seem to notice anything unusual, you made sure of it in the plan.

A couple of days later. Your phone rang. It was the twins.

“Hey! We kinda got a situation here!” Luke said. You hear they are huffing, they seem to be running. You’re quickly on alert.

“The boss is in trouble again and we have to get you back here!”

“What?! What happened?!” You yelled.

“We sent the coordinates! No time to explain! Just wear it!”

“I… I can’t do that anymore! What-!”

Your panic increases when the line suddenly cuts off. “Luke?! Kieran?!” you yelled. You didn’t think much about what to do, you got a black bag in your secret compartment. It contains the coat, the mask, and the guns. You tried to contact Sylus but there was no dial tone, nor any response. This makes you frantic as you get on your motorcycle to go to the location.

You arrived at an abandoned building, you didn't see the twins. Your big cloak flows in the air as you breathe through the crow mask. You can feel Mephisto roaming around above.

Masked men jumped and circled you. Your instincts as a boss emerged again. Gunshots and screams are heard as you are mercilessly beating them up, decreasing in numbers. When completely gone, you breathe deeply as you are satisfied with the job.

A dark projectile suddenly blasted behind you and barely dodged it in response. As you turn and point your gun, a dark red mist surrounds your wrist, stopping your control.

“What-”

From the other end of the floor, a tall man was standing. “Great work, the boss of Onychinus,” he said.

The familiar voice made you shiver. ‘Sylus?’ You were trying to process everything about what happened. ‘The twins…’ You thought as you realized. “It is amusing that the high-profile boss easily falls into a trap,” Sylus gets closer and looks down on you. Even with the mask, you can see he is not happy. You cursed, everything went so well as you would’ve thought.

“I came here to usurp the boss,” he smirked. “And claim what was mine,”

You tried to move but the dark mist started to spread around you to keep you still. You can see his hand moving towards your face. You moved, trying to get away from the grasp of the dark mist.

“Let me go!”

“Still keeping up with the facade?” He bent down to your level, smirking at you. But you can tell he is not amused. “For a boss, you look like an angry kitten,”

You felt your adrenaline drained away and despite knowing the consequences, you can’t help but feel many emotions in his reaction to finding out. He would probably cut ties with you and return you back to Linkon.

But you were surprised that strong arms circled around you and were being carried. “Let go of me!” You squirmed. Along the way, you see the twins leaning on the car in the distance. “Sorry!” They shouted as you squinted your eyes in response.

Outside was a garden, it was unkempt but peaceful. He sat on a bench with you on his lap. There was only silence between you two and the rustling leaves and chirping birds, with Mephisto roaming around as usual. Your breathing is a bit uneven, probably due to anxiety or because of the mask. You can see his hand hovering on your face, knowing where the latch is and propping it open. As he removes the crow mask, you can see his face in a much more detailed look. His expression didn’t change when he saw who was behind the mask.

“So… Leader of Onychinus… If you are so kind, can you tell me what is going on?” he said in an amusing tone. You didn’t respond, you felt your throat was stuck. His expression got more serious. “I am giving you a chance. You bended your promise,” he gazed at you, with the tone of betrayal. You looked around before looking at him again, your heart sunk with the feeling of defeat.

“I’m sorry… I just know how important Onychinus is to you,” you finally said, “I bent the promise because it would be a mess of people taking your spot. Despite you willingly giving it up, I can’t stand there and let it happen. I bent the promise because I don’t want to leave you like that. I don’t want to leave it all behind,” You said with conviction. “I don’t regret doing it… I had to do what I had to do,” You spoke and looked down. Sylus remained silent and then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“The moment I was aware of things, I felt something was wrong. Everything felt locked into place too well,” he spoke. “As I’m going about my business, I’m hearing… Rumors about a masked boss that took over Onychinus,” he hummed. “I heard the boss was ruthless and skilled. Even the twins were surprised,” you looked at him, wondering about Luke and Kieran.

“It wasn’t long either that I found out about them. They are adept fighters but I don’t think expanding the Onychinus and gaining more power is in their arsenal,” he chuckled. “They did confess to me as my orders supersede all, even from you,” You got sad as you got the twins in trouble.

“But I…”

“Oh, I know it's all on you, sweetie. But they do have their share,” he sneered. “Same to Mephisto, too,” Caws are heard above them. “You may delete his memory by accessing admin rights but you don’t know there is a backup memory… And I saw everything,” he smiled.

“Especially the last mission you did,” His face switched to being more serious as he stared at you, his crimson eyes looking intense but his voice was soft.

“I almost lost you… Because of a roleplay in being a leader,” he spoke, his voice low and menacing.

“Never do this again,” Sylus said. “Without my guidance,” he continued. You blinked and looked at him, surprised.

“As I said in our text message many years ago, I have no problem with you being the new leader of Onychinus if you want to… Just not in scenarios like that, where you will risk your life more than you bargained for or… Without me,” Sylus smiled at you again. You feel relief and comfort when Sylus pats your head.

You want to get up and give a kiss on his cheek but you still feel pain on your side. Sylus held you tighter as he stood up, carrying you again and going back to the car. “Never thought a cute, vengeful kitten would eliminate all the vermin,”

“Well, the love of my life was hurt,” you said. Sylus looked at you, a bit touched and thinking about the potential you have if you took over the organization. He often pokes your anger in teasing but has to realize your vengefulness is strong to the ones you love.

“You need to rest since you are still feeling pain,” Sylus said. “But that doesn’t exempt you from my punishment,” You gasped. “Can… Can I know what punishment is that?” You dared ask.

You felt a rumble in his chest. “You’ll see how the real boss leads, kitten,”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus x you #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus love and deepspace #l&ds #lads sylus

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creatingblackcharacters · 3 days ago

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My 2 Cents

So, one of the follow up questions I asked was

"are you willing to recognize that you have a willing tolerance for antiblackness? That there is a certain amount that you are okay with allowing before thinking it's worth speaking up?"

My goal in asking this question is not to cause you shame (though shame is not inherently a bad thing).

No, the goal is for you to practice active honesty with yourself! Be willing to accept the decisions You made!

You cannot confront- and therefore address- your own racism if you aren't willing to admit to when you're doing and allowing it. Ibram X Kendi's How To Be An Antiracist touches on this topic, of how racism and anti racism are a series of choices, not identities! Here's an article discussing it:

"No one is born racist or antiracist; these result from the choices we make. Being antiracist results from a conscious decision to make frequent, consistent, equitable choices daily. These choices require ongoing self-awareness and self-reflection as we move through life. In the absence of making antiracist choices, we (un)consciously uphold aspects of white supremacy, white-dominant culture, and unequal institutions and society. Being racist or antiracist is not about who you are; it is about what you do."

My personal fan example (and you knew this was coming 🤣) is Hades. I recognized that Patroclus' design is a white man in all but his ashy dark brown skin. It was a racist design, meant to be "representation", and I thoroughly disdain it. It wasn't enough to stop me from buying the game and enjoying it. I made a choice, to settle for mediocre representation so that I could enjoy a character I like! I still spoke up about racist and colorist fan designs, hoping that at least fans may be more receptive to not replicating racism (but that's otros veinte pesos 😬).

I'd naively hoped that maybe they'd do better the second time; maybe their actions were from ignorance! Maybe they'd learn! A *snicker* sage old man once said:

"fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again."

Jokes on Dubya aside, I knew that I was already discontent with the designs in the first game, but I allowed it for my own enjoyment. I acknowledge that. But I had to be honest with myself the second time: if the lack of effort in the dark-skinned character design bothered me so much, and I spent all that time speaking out on it the first time... what do I look like then going to spend money on the sequel game doing it again? Do I really stand for what I said I stand for? Can I ask others to stand for what I stand for, if I don't really stand for it?

That time, I said "no". I decided I'd reached how much I was willing to put up with. I had to accept the consequences of speaking on that choice, including risking being rejected by a creative space I really wanted to be a part of. It is what it is. And it's one of many choices I'll actively make for the rest of my life. Comfort v The Right Thing.

Anyway, these are the sorts of conversations you'll have to have with yourself. Coming to terms with your choices along the journey will better help you identify just how much you're willing to sit on, and whether you want to make a difference about that. You might recognize when you're making a long streak of decisions that suggest you care less than you'd like to think; you might find out you've swallowed more than enough! But you gotta be honest about your own role in it!

#creatingblackcharacters #thatsjusttips #antiracism #antiblackness

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araminakilla · 2 years ago

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Regarding Death Wolf...

Hear me out (NO, it's not the kind you are thinking)

We know Death has a job, right? To collect souls and most likely release them to the afterlife.

And for this job, he has to be there when somebody is about to die, as demostrated with him being there moments before Puss' eight death.

Supposing he is THE Death and he has been doing this since the beginning of time (or at least when there were enough stories of the Grim Reaper to adquire a physical form) that means he has seen a lot, A LOT of awful things.

Murders, suicides, massacres, death of infants, people who didn't deserve to die alone, animal cruelty, some other heavy stuff I won't mention here, etc etc etc.

And we thought "man, how is he able to cope with all of that? That job has to be utter torture for someone."

Probably many of you could think that he is able to do that because he is Death, and he was "born" with that purpose and only him can reap souls perfectly.

But while he is a force of nature, he also WAS a force of nature. Let me explain it well: He adquired a personality enough to be angry, excited, frustrated, amazed, happy, among other emotions.

While he has supernatural power and is most likely the most powerful being in the Shrek Franchise (or in Dreamworks as many say) he is also a PERSON.

Someone with a code of honor, morals, opinions, beliefs, etc.

Returning to the question "How can he bear all of that?" taking into account he is no longer an inevitable force, but a character of his own.

The answer is something you may relate to, and that is: Creativity and escapism.

To be the embodiment of Death, the guy is a very creative fella.

First of all, his design. I heard many people saying here and in Twitter that his design is something they would come up in their edgy, teen years of drawing their first fursona.

Guess what? They are right, the wolf form is someone's fursona. It's DEATH'S fursona. He clearly came up with this badass, piercing canine form to blend with the Fairy Tale Land assuming the form of the "Big Bad Wolf". He most likely had other forms he designed over the centuries and was able to present as them like if he were on a role play game in the living world.

His sickles? The weapon of choice with the little crossed cats on it to have a bigger effect of terror for Puss? Those who can become knuckles and join to create a scythe? Those are his creation, probably after thinking it for a while and writing all of those functions on a paper.

The way he presents himself? In the bar? The coins in his eyes as a "watching you" sign while being a cool reference to the Ferryman of souls? He transforming Perrito's forest into the background of a skull? The chilling reveal at the Cave of Lost Souls? The fire ring? It was all him.

As for the escapism part...

When the world becomes too heavy to deal with as real life issues tend to make us feel bad, depressed, angry... we tend to escape it somewhere. And in our time the common place would be the internet as in webpages or comics, stories, etc.

But what has to do with Death Wolf you may ask?

Well, while he would NEVER be able to escape his job entirely, he can have moments where he can enjoy a good hunt of people who don't appreciate life, like the whole plot of the Puss in Boots sequel could demostrate.

He managed to have a little time outside his eternal routine to chase an arrogant cat who took life for granted. He enjoyed it, it was thrilling, it was exciting.

It was a way to escape a monotonous, grim "life", if just for a short moment.

So, when the chase ended as his prey no longer feared him and now was ready to fight for his last life, the wolf retreats, happy for Puss' character development but resigned because he once again had to return to "The Eternal Duty"

And that's not even counting all the times Jack "I'm dead inside" Horner had to interrupt Lobo's hunt and remind him of his job even in his "spare time"

Death knew the chase had to end eventually, but he didn't want it to end.

He didn't want to return to his own world

And if we look at Death like that, then he is probably one of the most relatable characters Dreamworks has ever make.

In the Shrek Franchise:

Monsters can be loved

Princesses don't have to fit the perfect standards of beauty

Handsome guys can be possesive jerks

Love at first sight doesn't work like one would think

Happily ever afters had to be built and not just obtain them with magic

And Death is the most creative and "full of life" being in the world

Because he would absolutely go crazy with his life/work if he wasn't.

Because in a world of Kings, Poets and Soldiers, he's the Supreme King

And he's also a perky goth but none of you are ready for that conversation.

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reyrapidsbutgayer · 3 months ago

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Ranking All Shadow of the Erdtree Bosses and NPC's by Fuckability.

It's finally time. The sequel to the 2nd worst post I've ever made.

I 100%-ed the DLC and it was fantastic. Time to find out which new characters are the most fuckable.

In this hypothetical all of the bosses can be reasonably communicated with (if possible) and are not actively trying to kill you (Unless killing you makes it sexier).

Repeat bosses not included, duo bosses counted seperate. Bosses that already appeared in the Base game are not counted.

It should also be assumed that all of these bosses have access to their magic/items/resources to benefit them in bed.

Explanation of Grading system:

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

These characters are not sentient enough to communicate consent, or are physically incapable of sex.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Character sucks so badly that they do not deserve to experience pleasure in any shape or form.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

These character are fully capable of sex but would never participate in sex due to lack of interest or overabundance of moral convictions.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

I mean, you COULD have sex with these characters but why would you?

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

These characters are average in bed, nothing crazy or noticeable. Some might end up in this category because they ARE good at sex, but the entire process would be inconvenient or uncomfortable to initiate.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

These characters are good at sex, give or take a few points depending on their mood or situation.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

These characters excel in giving pleasure and would be well worth the time and effort involved.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

These characters would be so good at sex that all other factors are irrelevant. They are serving and we are here for it.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

These are characters that should fall lower in the rankings, but their sexual prowess supersedes their inherent awfulness to a noteworthy degree.

Full list below the read more. Obviously it's not going to be sfw.

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

Ralva the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Rugalea the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Ghostflame Dragon:

Undead, probably not capable of sex.

Golden Hippopotamus:

Animal

Swordhand of Night Anna:

She is a hot goth knight, but is a mind controlled puppet.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Promised Consort Radahn + Radahn Consort of Miquella:

Radahn is just a mind-controlled corpse, and Miquella is a little bitch, so they are both ineligible. Honestly who tries to become a god but also ditches their inner goth girl? St. Trina deserved better.

Scadutree Avatar:

Theoretically capable of sex, but is made of pure anger and thorns.

Fire Knight Salza:

War criminal, even by Elden Ring terms so you KNOW it's bad.

Jori, Elder Inquisitor:

Creepy torturer and hypocrite, thinks sex is a sin and I plan for him to die sinless.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

Curseblade Labirith:

Too devoted to being a monk to care.

Midra Lord of Frenzied Flame:

He's going through a LOT right now. He just got dumped AND he is being tortured for eternity while also containing a god of madness in his body, just leave the poor man alone.

Blackgaol Knight:

In another life he'd fuck like semi truck, but as of right now he's taken a vow to be a wet blanket alone in a mausoleum.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

Chief Bloodfiend:

Too goopy and covered in diseased blood, but is still up for it if you are.

Putrescent Knight:

On one hand it's melting skeleton made up of thousands of merged souls... but on the other hand if you managed to get the consent and each and every soul I bet you could PROBABLY do something.

Lamenter:

Throw him one pity fuck and then run, he's clingy and a whiner.

Death Knight:

Is mostly just a skeleton, and whatever flesh is still there is probably rotting... but he does have some rizz and cool wings... goth guys can still get it.

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

Black Knight Garrew:

A highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult.

Black Knight Edredd:

Is also a highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult... but he does know crucible incantations... he might have some weird animal stuff you can get him to use in bed.

Rakshasa:

She's covered in blood and is overflowing with bloodlust... but lust and bloodlust are in the same neighborhood if you know what to do.

Divine Beast Dancing Lion:

If those two guys in there aren't rotting corpses... Fucking two guys inside a scary lion costume is an above average Tuesday night.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

Logur, the Beast Claw:

A nude man covered in blood is running at you on all fours... you are either about to die or have a WILD night.

Ancient Dragon Senessax:

A very average dragon, but all dragons have a baseline fuckability so she's up here.

Jagged Peak Drake:

Drakes are slightly less fuckable than dragons, but if you don't think I'd willing be double teamed by two dragons while Igon watches, you clearly don't know me.

Ancient Dragon-Man:

All the perks of dragon sex but in a much more portable package.

Demi-Human Swordmaster Onze:

Normally Demi-humans are more cute than sexy, but this guy dedicated his life to the blade, you should be helping him make up for lost time.

Count Ymir, Mother of Fingers:

He's a delusional asshole... but he smacks of gender™ in a very submissive and breedable manner. A man who wants to be a mother and has giant fleshy fingers growing out of his body? It will be uncomfortable and deeply personal... but you GOTTA try it at least once, the LGBTQ community is depending on you.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

Red Bear:

All the raw sex appeal of Logur but with 25% more daddy energy.

Moonrithyll, Carian Knight:

Listen we have all been sleeping on Moonrithyll when we should be sleeping WITH her. She is the chamberlain to Rellana (as in head bedroom attendant) which means she is an actual #girlboss and there must be insane wizard lesbian sex behind closed doors. Not only that but she is beloved by the trolls and can fight on equal terms with the carian troll knights, who are no doubt getting sucked and fucked by her nightly. She's just a normal human but she is blowing out the backs of demigods and giants alike. She is struggling to keep her head above water and that water is pussy.

Commander Gaius:

Ok so here me out: He is an asshole, and violent, and a fanatic who serves the very order that discriminates against him... but all you have to do is mention that Radahn is better in bed than him. With this one simple trick he will have you bent over the back of his boar making sure he won't be the only one who can't use their legs after. He is pure rage and he will not stop until he has make you cum more times than Radahn ever has. Trust me, this happened to me, video games are real.

Dancer of Ranah:

Infinite stamina, enough said.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

Rellana Twin Moon Knight:

I want you to imagine Rennala, a normal woman who was able to satisfy Radagon/Marika, the sluttiest possible duo in the entire history of the lands between. Now imagine Rennala at full power, no depression, no hanging out in her basement mourning her failed marriage... now imagine Rennala 18% more goth and holding two magic swords. She will fuck you into space and then fuck you back to planet earth. Now imagine being bisexual.

Messmer the Impaler + Base Serpent Messmer:

I have slowly grown to love this sad bishounen anime boy more and more as I learn about his pathetic little life. He seems all mean and firey, but he is a bottom. (and his snakes are not) I wanna make him squeal and then get him therapy and then for good measure make him squel again.

Romina, Saint of the Bud:

A sleeper hit, but she is a mean insect lady with a giant prehensile centipede tail. She is like a xenomorph queen but a pink pastel goth rather than a vampire goth. She will wrap you up in that giant tail of hers and get straight to the egg laying. If you haven't considered it before, then you will now.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

Metyr, Mother of Fingers:

Look... you WILL die after doing this, but she has a giant stomach full of squirming wet fingers and she is basically a big pile of dicks. Get naked, jump into her gaping stomach and die happy. That's an order from your commanding officer, now do your duty and serve your country.

Bayle the Dread:

I hate this dragon, he is responsible for the steady decline in dragon sex appeal, he hurt my Igon, and I can't explain why but I feel like he is sexist somehow. BUT... a dragon is a dragon. If Igon asks me to double team this guy I legally can't say no.

BONUS: Ranking the new NPC's from worst to best in terms of fuckability:

#13: Fire Knight Queenlign:

Somehow, his haircut is more of a turn-off than the war crimes he committed in the name of a god who doesn't even know he exists, which is not a good sign.

#12: Hornsent Grandam:

Normally I would give GILFs a pass to live their life and fuck as little or as much as they want. But she is the type to slut shame other women and as a feminist I cannot stand idly by.

#11: Hornsent

In another life he'd be a decent lay. He had a wife and a child so he has had sex at least once. In a pinch I can forgive the blind self destructive quest for vengeance, but I draw the line as soiled loincloths. You're an adult Hornsent, so act like it.

#10: Moore

My sweet little pot boy... If it came to sex I'd like to imagine that he is attentive and gentle, with his armor clattering around the whole time because he is too scared to take it off entirely. But he is too sweet and you honestly don't deserve him. He needs to be romanced, swept off his feet by a loyal and supportive partner and let's face it, you aren't at a place in your life where you can be all that he needs.

#9: Thoiller

The pillow princess to end all pillow princesses. He is a simp, he's submissive, he's breedable, he's a sopping wet pathetic little meow meow. Tumblr, THIS is the man you keep saying you want, now get in there and impregnate this man as the prophecies foretold.

#8: St. Trina

She's a plant at this point and probably isn't up for sex. (And a disembodied essence of love from a corrupted demigod) But I KNOW for a fact you kept imbibing her nectar more than you needed to. She just likes to watch as you and Thoiller get high and flop around in the putrescences. Lore says St. Trina was a fully grown woman at some point, and not just a weird little plant person, so in her prime she probably had a weird sleepy plant orgy with her followers.

#7: Redmane Freyja:

On paper she is the tragic butch sword lesbian we need but don't deserve. A prisoner who earned her freedom and rank through brutal gladiatorial combat, a loyal knight to a fallen demigod, and a big buff lady who can step on you. But in practice she still sides with Leda after breaking free of the mind control, and lets Miquella control her lords body like a toy. Come on Freyja, where is your fire? Your rage? Suplex Leda and fuck your way across the lands between as did your forefathers.

#6: Swordhand of Night Jolan:

She's a mean goth girl with a tragic past and a desperate need to be loved. I could fix her.

#5: Sir Ansbach

He easily earned his place in the top 5. He's running from a tragic past, he is trying to be a better person, he has all the sex appeal of Varre' but actually bathes, and he is a GILF. In practice he probably isn't the BEST in bed, but he is rather romancable. He can still get it, since he was a highly trained warrior in the past, but I see myself cuddling him as he somberly adjusts his glasses and stares out the window. Don't get me wrong there is still a LOT of sweaty blood sex but he knows what he is doing and understands what soap is.

#4: Igon

He's a screamer. Broken legs, dirty armor, doesn't matter. The warriors code demands that we look into each other's eyes as we both cum. That is the only honorable way.

#3: Needle Knight Leda

She sucks. She willingly follows a loser wannabe god, and it's not even the mind control, she is just like that™ already. She is so bad at socializing with rational people who are already on her side that she jumps to murder without hesitation. She even killed all the first Needle Knights just cuz of her own paranoia. She should be at the bottom of this list... but a yandere is a yandere. It would be creepy, uncomfortable and she'd be very demanding and probably bite you in a very non-sexy way. But it would still be some of the best sex you'll ever have. You'd regret it just as much as you'd enjoy it, and you'd regret it for the rest of your life.

#2: Dragon Communion Priestess Florissax:

Lovelorn dragon lady who wants me to eat other dragons in a very sensual manner. I am not immune and neither are you.

#1: Dryleaf Dane

After that brush, he is distant. His training is cold and impersonal, he throws himself into his prayers, dedicating every waking moment to meditation. He sought to turn his flesh to iron, so why is the flesh so weak around you?

Hear me out. He's religious, he is dedicated to his cause, he tries to kill you, and he doesn't even say a word to you.

BUT.

Imagine what happens when you finally get him to break.

He is your master, teaching you in the dryleaf arts, the two of you sparring atop a waterfall and bruising your knuckles more and more with each strike. The two of you meditate together, seeking inner peace to further your warriors spirit. He is stoic, his heart closed off to you and his mind focused on his holy mission.

But he is temped, you can see it in his eyes, in the way he watches over you when you are hurt, the soft way his fist unclench after a battle, and the thick layer of sweat you share after sparring. Together you are hardening your bodies to become living weapons, but bodies are not only used for violence, and the two of you cannot ignore the tension that grows with each day, your bodies intertwining during a particularly heated duel, grappling turning slowly to wanton exploration. He comes to his senses right before it crosses the line and you see the fear in his eyes as he pulls away from you. But you wouldn't have stopped him and he knows it from the pleased expression on your face as you lie on your back, defeated.

When it finally happens, you are sparring, leaving nothing behind. You shed your armor to let the movements flow without hindrance and so does he, conflict apparent upon his face. You trade blow after blow, your bodies raw and sore but still you don't let up. The sun is setting and neither of you will relent, sweat coating every inch and the roar of the waterfall drowning out every thought that isn't dedicated to this battle.

He is getting sloppy, his eyes transfixed not on your fists but your face. A poorly placed sweep to your legs leaves him wide open and you go for the maneuver neither of you have attempted since the close encounter that frightened him so.

He struggles, pushing your arms and legs away fruitlessly as his exhaustion drains away his years of practice. Soon you are pinning him to the wet ground on the riverbed, his hair wild and his hat flung far out of arms reach. He looks like a cornered animal in your grasp, eyes bulging and his breathing haggard. You can only look down upon your former master with a gleeful hunger, his body already more familiar to you than your own.

In a moment of understanding you see the hesitation drain from eyes. He knows what he wants, and he is done denying it. You grab his face roughly and kiss him more violently than any punch you have thrown. He returns in kind and all the exhaustion seems to leave his body as he sits up and wraps both arms around you firmly, desperate to make up for lost time, his holy mission only to worship your body and the unbreakable bond you have forged in sweat and blood.

And then you bone.

We have all imagined that exact scenario, haven't we? I have yet to meet a Fromsoft fan who hasn't described that fantasy to me word for word without hesitation. I am just saying what we were all thinking.

(Pictured: a man I would fuck until he renounces his god.)

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forthegamesmyguy · 17 days ago

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yeeeeeaaaahhhhh.......... :/

the more time and space I have from actually finishing, and just like ruminating on it all over and over..... My impressions are just growing colder and less forgiving. I'm gonna have to write them all out sometime here, it's just how I process things. But it'll be hard. Saying goodbye to my favourite little guy maybe of all time, is very hard. My shorthand thoughts are basically: as an action fantasy game, it's fantastic... it's cinematic and gorgeous and the narrative is powerfully emotionally motivated, and I'm certain someone that has no DA knowledge can leave it feeling like it was a great piece of art; as an RPG, it's quite middling....it's got a decent character creator with 6 technically different bgs but it really isn't much more than flavour imo, and ultimately everything is either a binary choice or no real choice at all (companion quests have two paths, the ending itself is one flavour, though I will give credit for the suicide mission elements that do actually add a bit of variability, but dialogue options are often three ways of saying the same thing slightly different)...it's not bad, it's serviceable...it can be called a role playing game, in a very specific way.....but it is not an rpg robust and full of choice; as a dragon age game, it's not very good....the amount of auto dialogue was giving me ME3 flashbacks in a very bad way, bc at least Shepard was always a less dimensional (on OUR part, the player) character.....but as predicted, rook is even less your own than Inquisitor, and even more basic...you find your character very often just...saying shit, and it's like "oh no, the bad guy is bad! But don't give up team we are the good guys and we can persevere. *Beat* also I can't cook ha ha ha" Also now that I'm in another playthrough I can see just how much dialogue is repeated and it's most of it..... 😬 and the lore was ....odd.... some things are like, glaringly bad (blight effects...) and others, most actually, are cases of just....deciding that it didn't matter...and for me personally the Big Lore Reveals (that I assume any longtime solas enjoyer like myself already all knew lol) were very Telling Me The Story you know? I found the writing this time to be rather..."accessible" is the word I am thinking of but when I say it in this case I mean it as like, commercially accessible. like....marvel/Disney, ya know... we are all On the Hero Spectrum and we basically only talk about Pulling through!!! Because heroes don't give up! We have each other!!! We'll never turn into those EVIL people! ...idk. idk. antagonists from main and side missions often felt flat, Pure Evil redshirt mobs....and the obvious, the lack of respect for the world so far....we see/hear nothing of any dao/daa companions or major players besides Morrigan, who isn't there bc shes morrigan :/ theres one DA2 cameo, one dai cameo....that is it....DA to me means 1 meaningfully expressively different ways to roleplay the PC 2 a growing world state of different flavours that continues to reference itself as it expands 3 a fantasy setting where we get a new crew of companions to wander around with per title .... we get the last one sure, but I didn't really feel the first two so like I said I don't see it as a particularly successful dragon age game; and for ME most importantly, as a Solas game, game about Solas, marketed to me as a game of choice that still somehow resolves the tale meaningfully and satisfactorily no matter the path................ sorry. it's a fail for me. I'm sure I can go on and on and on about it but I need to just let it simmer for now.

Someone who isn't me can absolutely have a blast and come away thinking wow what a game. But she ain't me 😔 I didn't especially enjoy the combat, like I guessed, but it's fine, I can endure combat that I don't super think is fun....I think the slimming down on the RPG elements that are collecting and selling and min maxing and shit, potions loot etc, was nice and convenient. They COULD keep resource intensive stuff around but I personally don't care 🤷🏼‍♀️ and I really liked the simplicity and ease of just, look for a green pot to break lol. Played a rogue though and that fuckin arrow regen mechanic....not for me. Will have to see what ranged combat is for the rest. The music was the weakest of the series by far for me, characterless, very general (not always unique location/character specific pieces....), why is there synth to begin with but definitely why is there so much of it lmao... Biggest compliments I can give are the cinematics and environmentals and lighting, looked even more beautiful than inquisition. Though I've been experiencing a textural bug with white dots all over mostly hair and sometimes floors.... driving me insane. It changes person to person but there are a few VAs that were particularly Cartoon voicing and I don't really enjoy that, so I can't just wholesale compliment the voice talent.... But in general the main cast is very well played. And GDL, for me, is literally carrying this title on his Welsh shoulders. The ghil moments we get are also actually pretty fire

But yeah. Idk. I knew there was basically no way for this game to satisfy me, but I was so hopeful bc the Solas enjoyers in the dev team have been hyping it so much as such a great conclusion to his tale........... Makes it feel worse in a way. In a couple cases I at least genuinely believe the person just likes stories that end this way. And that's fine. But man. Man..... I really just. Wanted something else...I finished 11am, starting the climax and final point of no return at 5am already exhausted but so eager to finish, after waking up at like 2pm on election day and just playing through the evening. Woke up 6pm later on, of course my first thoughts are of this new game, the new ending I'm left with, time has passed I slept and I'm thinking more about what happened, and then I hear the news get turned on and then there's election results playing. So that was my experience ending this. I suffered in the fake world, went to sleep, then woke up to suffer in the real world and I can't use the fake world to escape for fun... It unfortunately colours the whole thing in an even worse light for me 😔 I'm just feeling emotionally drained. And I really wish. I really fuckin wish, this thing that's meant so much to me, could offer a bit of relief :/

all right. before I get my hands on this lemme get thoughts out

I don't care for the textural look. The blurred yassification of it all... Hoping for mods 😭

Solas better not die or I'm quitting

Inquisitor....Imma be real idrc 😔🤷🏼‍♀️ like I'm sorry but they're literally all gonna be the same character? That's a joke.

Sorry I'm not being Fair. I bet it ends up like this: you are kind of sad and kind of nice when you "redeem" and you are kind of mad and kind of mean when you "stop". If you romance him your Lavellan will make that stupid ass frowny face from DAI but otherwise be basically the same as "redeem"

I'm expecting to not like the combat unfortunately....it looked like everything just jumps you and you exclusively and the difficulty is just gonna be even more mobs literally mobbing you while ur companions looked like they were kinda doing fuck all ........ Plus the only 2 😭 my banter 😭😭 but yeah idk. I get they're rly relying on the detonation thing but tbh w u I didn't rly do that shit in DAI....dao yes bc combat is slower. When it's faster like this I honestly just turn my brain off lol

I'm guessing I'm gonna go for davrin, emmerich or bellara first. I also see them as possible Culprits but idk if we're getting yet another betrayal arc tbh

Would love one of the romances that happens outside ur own to b with that old man

Taash got something Mythal related going on ? Suspicious

I'm expecting this to be my least favourite of the four but that's rly bc it wasn't allowed to be what it should have been for most of its development..... The live service skeleton is all over the look of this and it seems to be anchoring the story, but Make it relevant to the sequel hook from DAI....it seems like it's just kind of set up to fail as the weakest narratively. Which sucks bc it's the big climax. Hoping I'm pleasantly surprised

I was gonna read the supplemental stuff but didn't. I've read summaries tho, so my take from the dread wolf was seemed to be that the lyrium idol=the lyrium dagger....

very curious to know if we can interact with Solas at will in the lighthouse or like. How does it work. Anyway can I ask him about his fish

Really hoping the soundtrack references Morris when it comes to Inquisitor and Solas :/ and any other returning notes I just don't know who else gonna be there lol

I honestly haven't given it too much thought beyond uhhhh my guy better be okay

#i need to stress that this isn't a bad game. I don't want bad things for bioware just because I'm not satisfied #but even outside the topic of Solas which i get i cant be particularly fair about...even just measuring this title against the rest #i do feel it is the weakest DRAGON AGE game by far. like...by far. but it is a GREAT action fantasy game #unfortunately it is the fourth installment of a uniquely designed franchise! so not measuring up is a real bummer for me #but i assume a lot of my issues outside of the dragon age specific content were bc of the damn live service hell they had it in #so i can be extremely forgiving #but fuck man FUCK in order to make up for it i really needed the dragon age content to be great!!!!!!!! for me it's....just not 😔#i wish i could experience a da4 that got to always live its life as what it was meant to be. i wish so bad i could #i wouldn't care if this wasn't a direct sequel #it could just be the quirky outlier title #but it's the continuation of the third game...........but that game's protagonist was not allowed to really be involved.....#so for me it's just. so hollow. a lot of the solas issues i have (ending aside as i get that's legit personal taste) could be solved #by making Inquisitor the protagonist......or a consistent #did not mean to hit enter....sigh.... like a constant and persistent mentor/ally figure #sigh im just going to stop talking for now

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dabisbratz · 2 years ago

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PENITENCE — leon s. kennedy x male reader

w.c: ~5.3k

warning: sub bottom reader, thigh fucking, spit, standing doggy style, dirty talk, leon’s weak pullout game x2, mixed praise/degradation, oral, choking, sexualizing las plagas, breeding mentions, sir kink, finger hooking, drool, infected leon is a lil mean, dumbification, accidental creampie

a/n: got a loooot of requests for a sequel to this!! so here it is! i hope you enjoy! ૮꒰ ´͈ ˙̫ `͈ Ꮚ꒱ა this fic had a mind of its own!! didn get to write leon as feral as i wanted to but… that’s okay!

You’ve never been shot before. Punched, sure, clean in the jaw in the midst of a training session. It caught you so off guard you nearly swallowed your teeth, and the blood gushing from your nose and coating the pearls tasted like rusty gunmetal. But it really didn’t hurt that bad, you felt more congested than anything.

You've never been shot before. Stabbed, sure, right through the hand until thick blood poured straight out your palm like nature’s greatest waterfall. It wasn’t as sharp as you’d think, not some sort of pinch akin to getting a piercing. No, it was panic first, your eyes trailed down to meet the handle of a hunting knife that cut clean through your palm. Then came the realization, Scorching heat beaming through your hand until it began to tremble. But hand wounds heal fast, you barely remember it.

You’ve never been shot before. Grazed, sure, blasted with the shells of a silver shotgun bullet so hard it seared your skin and left an open-mouthed gash. Your bullet ricocheted off an unknown surface, all because you’d taken it upon yourself to practice your aim alone. But it was just a graze, and so long ago the scar had begun to fade.

So the first time it happens, you’re taken for a loop.

Your legs burn, aching as you trudge beside Leon in his hasty motion up a particularly slippery hill. It’s like you’ve been walking in circles, deeper and deeper into the village but somehow passing the same bloodstained tree. For a man who was over a hundred fifty pounds of sheer force and willpower, he sure was light on his toes. Had there not been moisture from previous nights’ rain still lingering in the air you're sure it’d be easier— no mud to slip on, no pockets of rainwater that looked much more shallow than they actually were— but it lingers.

And it’s not just that, there’s an everlasting tremor in your thighs as you walk, you can barely take a few steps without your movements stuttering. You can’t excuse it as a pulled muscle, not when Leon’s been forcing you to sit back and observe. Though it’s partially his fault, you deduce, because you can see the growing pride in his stride as he listens to your trip over your own feet. Almost like it was a mission, fuck the rookie until he cries and let him walk for himself.

Asshole.

You can’t stop talking, not when your brain is working overtime and you have so many questions. Though it’s not entirely clear if he’s listening, Leon’s body subconsciously teeters in your direction, almost like he’s trying to collect your body heat. He’s certainly done that, that and much more. He’s stolen the air from your lungs with a heavy kiss, he’s collected the sounds of your moans and sealed them in a jar.

You spare him a heavy glance, watching the muscles in his back ripple as he marches through the thickening mud. You wish you’d gotten the chance to see him without it, to card your fingers through the strong fabric as he pulls his shirt over his head and balls it up in his veiny fists. To watch his hair fall, golden bundles framing his face and falling back into place like magic, nearly swept over his eye and so unabashedly Leon.

“Would you stop staring at me?” There’s a playful edge to his voice, teetering around the edges as he blows a bullet straight through the frail neck of an infected resident. You’re too focused on the nape of his neck to watch it explode, an amalgamation of blood and arteries and fat splattering onto the ground and surrounding houses. “I mean, if you want a picture all you have to do is ask.”

You can tell he’s somehow watching you through the corner of his gunmetal gray eyes, with your blatant staring, but he doesn’t seem to have much on the tip of his tongue besides a few smartmouthed remarks. Maybe he has eyes behind his full head of hair.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” You purse your lips, tightening your grip around the flashlight paving the way forward.

Truthfully, you’d underestimated just how much cardio and legwork it took to navigate this village— sure, the implication of missing hikers in the area meant there’d be a trail to hike, but in your head it was much more akin to training. Controlled, steep hills that didn’t continue on as far as the eye can see, an obstacle course that had an obtainable goal— it feels like you’re wandering aimlessly.

But Leon’s with you, so surely that can’t be right.

You wonder how much preparation and time he took into this, how many nights of sparring turned into considering your presence under the same blanket of stars, how often he made things with you in mind. Even if it’s just for a mission.

Quite frankly, it was all the time. Thinking of you put an indescribable amount of weight on his chest, it capsized his shoulders, so feathery light, and yet somehow still managed to put strain on his posture. He was always so laid back, cracking jokes and likable by definition. Yet there he stood, second guessing his abilities in protecting you, having you, wooing you. Ashley is his priority. . . but you’re his partner.

And he wants more.

“Leon?” Apprehension builds in your voice, Leon’s steady stride suddenly broken as he looks down at his hands. You bump right into him, colliding face-first into his body. His back is just as sturdy as it looks, barely jolting as you peek around to look at his handsome face.

His veins are turning black, coiling up his wrists from his hands, inky black streaks that branch off up his forearm and disappear under his shirt. Even the thicker veins decorating his bicep— they’ve become an ugly charcoal that looks entirely too unnatural. Painful. As if leeches have burrowed themselves under his skin, the intrusion crawls further into his bloodstream as small, deep grunts escape from his lips.

You still have yet to ask what happened during your separation— after you ran. But, in a way, you’ve got your answer.

“You with me, Lee?” You search his face for something, anything, under the furrowed brows and clenched teeth. His jaw sets, characteristically rigid, which is a generous start. Somewhere beneath the icy blue of his eyes you see recognition, like he’s not exactly looking at you, but he knows you’re there. Lucid enough. Good.

But without Leon leaving a path of bodies for you to walk over, you have to take over and pave the way.

“I’m gonna take your gun, okay?” It’s rhetorical, whether he likes it or not, because he took your gun away before you truly had the chance to use it— and it’s not entirely like he’s in the position to be making demands. You wish you could laugh about it, let a boyish smile wiggle its way across your face, but without Leon there to laugh with you… there’s no point.

And, like most instances, you find yourself jumping into action before you can think, dragging every pound of steel Leon has to offer through the village until you can find somewhere safe. It happens all too fast. One moment, you’re holding onto the pistol while wrapping an arm around Leon’s waist, blowing holes through the infected like you were made for it, watching their bodies topple to the ground in a lifeless display. Then. . .

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” Your heart plummets into your stomach, you can’t help but think you’ve swallowed a bomb. Your blood is cold on your slick skin, flowing down your bicep like sort of fucked up waterfall. It’s thick and sticky, a rich shade of red that only seems to get darker and darker as it pours from your arm. You can’t help but call for your partner, tightening your grip on his waist. “Leon…”

Getting grazed is not the same.

There’s a similar burn, but this time it’s from the outside-in and back out again. Like you’ve been stung by a swarm bees, all at the same time, and in the same exact spot.

It happened so fast, threw you for a loop, the metal of an axe bounced your bullet right back at you, and landed right through your arm.

Your eyes widen, jittery as Leon parts his legs, planting his boots into the mud in a futile attempt at staying upright. Selfless as ever, the blond just can’t seem to sit still when he knows someone he cares about is in danger.

His dusty pink lips are curled into a snarl, one of his veiny hands clasped over your own; fisting at the bunched up fabric by his waist. His eyes, previously clenched shut, are no longer a brilliant shade of blue— they’ve turned yellow, bright like a citrusy candy. His face, still as handsome as before, is adorned with streaky, black veins that cluster near his left cheekbone and disappear into his cheeks. Instinctively, you raise your arm to swipe away his hair in a half-assed attempt at consolation, but the movement burns before you can put away your pistol.

Leon’s eyes flicker to your bicep, watching the red ooze from the inflamed bullet-shaped hole. His gaze darkens, something you can’t quite grasp flashing in his eyes as he takes the gun from your hand and pushes you behind him.

“Leon—”

“Move! Now!” His voice is much deeper than before— still buttery smooth, just dropping in octaves as he yells into the night air. You don’t have to be told twice, stumbling in the mud as he pushes you in the general direction of an abandoned house. In a perfect world you’d use your knife to help, but something tells you sticking around would just worsen the situation for everyone.

So you rush into the house, bursting through the creaky door as gunshots ring behind you. Almost as loud as the static in your ears, buzzing as you search for a closed off room.

The house is empty, fairly sized— equipped with a staircase that leads upstairs. Bedrooms, you presume, since there are only bathrooms and living spaces on the first floor. The floorboards whine and groan under your weight, tracking mud as you keep your hand clasped over your bicep. It probably won’t make much of a difference now, but the bleeding has subsided into thick clots, which momentarily lightens your mood.

You don’t have much on you, it’s best to travel light when you have places to be— heavy backpacks can weigh you down. But you do have a few bandages and travel-sized disinfectant wipes. You can only help Leon effectively if you help yourself first— you’re dead weight if you go back out there dipped in blood— so you get to work.

It’s hasty, messy, and unorganized, but you get it done. Your bicep is wrapped snug, with enough pressure to support your arm without cutting off any circulation. It’s the best you can do for now, with the panic and anxiety blooming in your throat. It burns like bile, attacking your senses until all you can think of is Leon. The look on his face, the sounds of his pained grunts, the veins darkening beneath his skin.

As if he’s heard you, your silent prayers for his presence in its entirety, he crashes through the door. It squeals on its hinges, slamming shut behind him as his heavy boots collide with the wooden floorboards. You can’t quite make out anything else, just the sound of his shoes as he walks through the hall, and into the bathroom.

Maybe it’s just a hunch, an inference, but there’s irritation floating between his steps. You can feel it radiating off him despite not exactly being near him. The sound of poorly running water emits from the small room, muffled through the door, along with a steadier stream of swears.

“Leon?” You ask, pushing yourself off the wooden diningroom chair with the support of your unwounded arm. Would it be best to give him some space? But that’s not really an option, not with what you witnessed. Not with that intrusion trying to take over his body. “I’m coming in.”

Nearly tripping over the red rug decorating the hallway between the bathroom and living spaces, you clumsily open the bathroom door. Just Leon— sitting on the wide ledge of the bathroom’s squat toilet, his gun discarded on the opposing mantel. You can’t see his face, not with his hair casting silky shadows along the expanse of it, but you can picture his tight lipped expression just fine.

The thought makes heat burst through your skin. Nowhere near as painful as a gunshot wound. This time it’s comforting and sweet, it makes your legs feel like jelly and your heart like jam.

“Ocupado,” He sounds rather proud of himself for that one, readjusting his spot on the ledge. The blond lifts his gaze, shades of blue overcasting the previous yellow hues that once clouded his vision. “How do you feel..Your arm..?”

You should be asking him that.

“I’m good,” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, the strain of your shoulders dissipating into the air the longer you look at him. “You know me. Are you…okay?”

Perhaps ‘okay’ isn’t the word for it. You want to ask if he feels weird, if the deepening of his veins bothers him. What it felt like when he was rendered unconscious. When you felt it— tied to that damned cross— it wasn’t nearly as bad as Leon. In fact, it didn't hurt you at all. You didn’t even notice until the entirety of your arms were decorated in pure, black branches.

“Yeah,” He blinks, not once removing his gaze from the curl of your lips. Still so shiny and wet, soft as they curl with every vowel and syllable that leaves them. He swallows hard, audible as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. Your eyes trace the small mole just below it, the way his throat bulges. “I’m okay. For the most part.”

He doesn’t seem entirely there, lifting himself up wordlessly until he’s crashing into you, his large, gloved hand finding a place around your neck as he pulls you into a kiss.

The bathroom isn’t an ideal place to do it, though you suppose you two don’t have a clean track record of kissing in the best places. He swallows the air from your lungs, deep and gentle as his lips melt into yours. He tastes just like he did a few hours, just slightly saltier. He tastes like you, you’re still heavy on his tongue and it seems he’s hooked on your flavor.

His tongue is silky, messy in your mouth as you try your hardest to absorb his heat. His mouth is so warm, so wet, and you can’t help but whimper when he pulls away. You want to chase it, that heat, so you can’t help yourself when you follow after his lips.

Oh.

Leon’s eyes— they’re red, and the impossibly dark streaks under his skin are somehow darker.

“Your—”

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” It leaves his lips before the both of you have time to process it. He’s much more surprised than you, pink roses blooming on the apples of his cheeks despite the clear obstruction of his body. You appreciate the honesty, clearing your throat to mask the laugh bubbling in your chest. Leon’s okay, and he’s not just saying it. “…Sorry.”

Leon’s red-eyed gaze is casted to the side, but even in his efforts to avoid looking at you, he can’t help himself. It’s cute, really, charming enough to have your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

“Then do it.”

Blue embers sparkle in his eyes, and suddenly you’re being pulled out the cramped bathroom. Whatever he’s infected with, it’s heightened his abilities, because his grip on your wrist feels just as strong as the rusty chains in the cathedral. He’s holding onto you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, an iron grip that feels more comfortable than painful. And through it all, he’s cautious of your injury.

It doesn’t stop him from slapping you against the wall, your back colliding with the old, peeling wallpaper with a loud thud.

“You’re sure—” You start, the words catching in your throat when Leon’s strong hands tear your shirt apart, straight through the middle. The cold air hits you instantly, sending shivers up your spine as you whine in protest. “I only have one shirt!”

“I have a jacket.” His answer is barely audible, as he’s too busy watching the rise and fall of your chest with hungry, predatory eyes. You’re looking at Leon, who has every feature of the man. . . But he feels different. He feels bigger, in every sense of the word, towering over you as his red eyes study you like a bloodthirsty shark.

Next are your pants, you take the liberty of unbuckling your utility belt, keeping your gaze on Leon as he watches your hands pull them down. A considerate patch of sticky wetness decorates the front of your boxers, darkening and dampening the fabric. Leon’s pink tongue slides over his equally pink lips, whatever restraint he’s using slowly slipping away. You expect him to follow suit, but his hands are on you and he’s guiding you down to your knees.

Your face nuzzles against the fabric of his pants, thick but nowhere near as thick as his cock, which has a prominent, twitching outline.Your mouth waters, saliva pooling between your lips as your eyes flutter shut and he presses your cheek against his dick, firm and rough. His hands are so big, cupping the back of your head as he releases a small, hushed groan.

Leon watches you unzip his pants with parted lips and a baited breath. You look so damn pretty, eyes glazed over within the matter of a few seconds and a stupid look in your eye the second you see his dick again. Like you’ve missed it, when it was only just a few hours ago when he was buried deep inside you. He lets you push his pants down to his ankles, your eyes roaming along the skin of his toned thighs, which black vines slowly creep down.

You press a pretty, openmouthed kiss against the head of his cock, watching precum bead at the tip and smear across your lips. Such a sweet boy, kissing his cock as a greeting.

“Goddamn, you’re so cute,” His grip travels down your face to the top of your neck, where your throat meets your jaw. Your gaze is forced upward, straight into Leon’s vermillion irises as he offers a small squeeze. “Just a little slut. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yeah,” You pant against his skin, shimmying forward to grind your front against the leather of his boot. “For you— just for you, Sir.”

Yeah, you could get used to this. The girth of his cock, the vein that disappears beneath the pretty head of his dick, the way his balls weigh heavily against your chin. His pubes are a deeper shade of brown, slightly curly and enough that makes you want to bury your nose in it. He’s so sticky, slick and wet like he’s been thinking about this for a while. The thought of Leon gripping himself through his pants is just so hot, the way he’d buck up into his fist and imagine it’s you instead. The way he’d groan and moan into the air, chasing after some artificial tightness that could only simulate you. Your mouth, your hole.

“Think you can be a good boy for me?” You chase after his cock as he pulls it away, gripping it by the base with a gloved hand. You can only imagine how good the leather of his fingerless gloves feel against it. He coos at your attempts to follow along, meanly slapping the weight of his dick against your cheek until you’re messy with precum. “Hm? Yeah?”

You nod frantically, opening your mouth and covering your bottom row of teeth with your tongue. You can be good, you can be good for Leon.

Tears spring in your eyes the second he’s pushing into your mouth, groaning at the sound of your gags as his cock slides in and out, deeper and deeper without warning. He can’t help it, not when you’re drooling all over his pants and whining for it. Not when you’d look so cute hazy eyed and stained with tears as he fucks your throat. Not when your throat bulges around his cock, letting out wet squelches as you struggle to keep your eyes open and watch his hips snap against you.

“That’s it,” Leon sighs, shaky and content as he holds you in place. His good boy. “Just like that, you take it so—f-hucking—good.”

You lurch back, tears blurry in your eyes as you sputter and gag. His precum is salty and warm, coating your throat as you flutter your eyes and hold onto the swell of Leon’s strong, thick thighs. Heat ripples through your body in waves as a low growl rumbles in his throat, bouncing into your ears.

“Shh, I know, I know. Don’t run from me, let me in,” He coos, sliding his long cock from your mouth to watch a long trail of your spit thin out the further he pulls away. “It’s just too big for you, is that right? Hard to focus on anything when all you can think of is dick.”

You’re breathing heavily, panting loud as you slowly register the mess on your face, your chin. Your lips feel swollen, but your mouth feels empty. You must have a particularly dumb look on your face because it pulls a laugh out of the man in front of you, rich and hearty as he lifts you up with an authoritative hand around your throat.

“C’mere.” He mumbles, pulling you in to pepper messy kisses along your jaw. He’s more impulsive, you gather, with whatever’s coursing through his veins. Rougher too, with the way his hand tightens around your throat when he’s throwing commands at you. You don’t mind it, not at all. In fact, it’s made you all hazy, you feel like you’re traveling through a thick layer of fog as you nod along. You want to be good, to earn his praise.

Leon’s hands travel to your waist, dipping into the plush skin until your thighs are spread just far enough for his cock to fit between them. You’ve never felt so exposed, whining high in your throat no matter how pathetic it sounds, and pressing your body against his firm chest.

His cock feels as big as it looks, long and curved as he slides it between your thighs. You can feel every twitch and pulse, you’re sure he can feel you too— with how he’s grunting and groaning against your neck. He fucks into your thighs like he’s chasing after something, trying to satiate it. His grip is punishing, the pads of his fingertips digging into your skin until it hurts.

“I can’t,” You whine, shaking your head as you watch his cock disappear between your thighs. “S’not— I wanna—”

“You can,” Leon growls, making a low warning of a noise in his throat as he tuts in disapproval. It goes straight to your stomach, tingles shocking your body as you clench around nothing. “And you will.”

Instead of keeping you upright by the throat, Leon’s hands leave you to fend for yourself as he slides them down your supple skin, down every dip and curve and slope, until he’s playing with the leftover stickiness of your hole.

You’re certain there’s nowhere near as comfortable as Leon’s arms. They’re big and strong, plush and warm against your skin, and firm in your hand when he’s flexing. They keep you secure and safe, protected from whatever monstrosities are in this godforsaken place, you’re sure he’d hold you till you both fell asleep, and you’d be enveloped in his warmth.

He smells just as warm too, faintly of vanilla underneath all that sex and remnants of polluted air.

“Christ, you’re so… Warm around my fingers. Give it to me, baby, let me fuck you with my fingers.”

You love his warmth, it spreads across your body and travels down your chest, your stomach, your thighs, until he’s taking you apart with it. His fingers are so warm, so thick and perfect as they fuck into you. Even when you’re sloppy like this, sucking his fingers back in like you’d never wanted to be left empty again in the first place, working your hips back to chase after his knuckles. The warmth of his arms as he flips you around, pushes your weight into his own by the base of your neck, maneuvers you just right, keeps you open and vulnerable for him. All for him.

Yeah, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Hey, you with me?” It’s his turn to ask, and you wonder if he felt the same butterflies you did.

“Yeah, I’m,” You’re breathlessly spreading your legs and pulling yourself apart with the warmth of your palms to reveal the puffiness of your hole, fucked out and shiny from earlier’s abuse. Leon wonders how easy it’d be to slip back in, to inch his cock deeper and deeper inside as you flutter around him and keen with oversensitivity. “M’with you, Sir.”

“Atta boy,” The smile he flashes is all teeth, dangerous and sharp as his canines glint in the dim lighting. You have half the heart to be a bit scared, but it doesn’t mean much when he’s working you open when you’re already so sensitive. Your hips jitter, twitching both toward and away from his fingers as he presses against that same bundle of nerves from earlier— it’s too much. This time you really mean it, because the second he hits it, tears spring in your eyes and you’re fisting remnants of the peeling wallpaper like a lifeline. “Greedy little hole. Didn’t you just take me?”

“Ohh, oh, God! Leon,” He hums in acknowledgement, as if he’s actually listening to your mindless babbling, nodding with lidded eyes as he uses your hips to pull you down onto his fingers. He’s using you like some kind of toy, moving you with one hand as you sit there and take it. You’re melting into the wall, drool slipping through the seam of your lips and trailing down your exposed chest. “You— your fingers, feel so good.”

“I know, baby.”

The way you’re convulsing around his fingers is telling, crying and sobbing and squealing into the wallpaper while he angles your back down. His large palm presses into the small of your back, strong and firm as he pushes and pushes until you’re arching just right and exposed.

“Let me fuck you till I cum, be my toy,” You can barely hear him over your own sobs, shifting your weight between legs as you steady yourself. His cock slips in easy, smooth and wet and perfect. You missed this feeling the second it left, the fullness of his dick inside you. The curve of his long cock as it inches inside, the feeling of that one particular vein pulsing deep inside. “Gonna fuck you over and over. Yeah? Got that? Because you’re all mine.”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” You gasp, every inhale making you sputter and choke on your tears. “Yes, Sir.”

If you weren’t crying before you surely are now, with the sharp thrusts Leon’s pistoning into your hole, loud and sloppy and squelching as he backs you up on his cock. It’s like he’s mounted you, shoving your face into the wall as he slams into you. In and out, in and out, in and out…With every slap of his balls against your thighs you whine, small pitiful sounds escaping your lips until your voice goes hoarse and all you can do is weakly claw at the wall.

But you’ve been good, save for a few whiny noises and indiscreet pouting, you’ve been so good. So Leon lets your uninjured hand wander, even guides it down to your front as he fucks you from behind so hard it feels like you’re going stupid. You can’t see him like this, but you’d bet there’s a feral look on his face. Pupils blown wide as his red eyes focus on the view of his cock disappearing inside you, his brain short circuiting as it repeats the same code over and over.

Breed, breed, breed.

“Wanna breed you,” He rasps, strong arms pulling you the second he’s pulling out. No matter what, you’re full of him. You’re full of him even as his cock slides away, a trail of precum connecting the two of you as it froths between your thighs and his balls. “Can I fuck my cum into your sloppy little hole? Hm?”

“Course, f’course,” It’s all out the window, every possible thought you’d ever had about how uncomfortable it could be to be…preoccupied while on a mission. Because you want it, you want to be full. You want him to give it to you, deeper and harder and messier and… More. “..Please..”

“Nice of you to say, but,” He groans high in his throat, voice tight and heavy as his hips grow sloppy and weak. Yet, his cock still feels so heavy in your hole, makes you feel like you’re ready to burst apart at the seams. Leon’s fingers pull at your cheeks, slipping in your mouth and pulling at the skin until your mouth is forced wide, your tongue slipping from your mouth as you drool and cry. “I wasn’t really asking. You’d let me cum wherever I wanted, wouldn’t you? It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re cute when you go dumb on my dick.”

You can’t do this.

You tried, really. You tried your hardest, held it for as long as you could. But you’re already there, almost screaming on his dick as you flutter and clamp down on it, light beaming in your stomach as your body grows sensitive and weak. You’re cumming. And Leon’s hand around your throat doesn’t do anything besides aid it, the way you gush and whine around his cock despite his insistent thrusts. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, and it feels so fucking good.

“Jesus fuck, you take that cock so well. Such a good boy, my pretty slut,” Leon pulls you into him, pressing his chest against your back as he sinks his teeth into the base of your neck. Not enough to draw blood, no, just enough to leave a Leon S. Kennedy sized bite mark along your skin. “Tell me you love this cock, pretty baby. I know you can.”

“I love— ohhh — love your cock, Sir. M’so full.” Your twitching doesn’t cease, instead egging him on as your pretty little hole sucks him in deeper, holding him like a vice. Warm and slick, he can’t help but moan into your neck as his balls tighten and he cums.

“That’s it,” You watch him pant through the corner of your eyes, weighed down by fatigue, sex, and the entirety of today's ordeals. But at least the richness of his veins are beginning to clear up, and his pretty, arctic blue eyes are starting to resurface. You smile around a hearty moan, feeling your insides flood with warmth as his eyes flutter shut and his body shudders. “I could really get used to this.”

It’s hard and fast, much too fast for him to have pulled out to shoot across your back— no, he’s partially shot a thick, creamy rope inside you. His veins pulse at the thought, satiated with the sight of your fucked-out hole drooling with his cum.

“Oh… Fuck.”

He’s hard again.

2K notes · View notes

wordsofelie · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 1

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change— Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing

Words count: 3.1k

chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8

Miya Osamu wouldn’t consider himself bad-looking. In fact, back in high school, he was quite popular. He remembers being on the volleyball team, where girls would show up to every game just to catch a glimpse of him, even more than ‘Tsumu—though his brother would argue that to the grave. But to be honest, Osamu didn’t really care about the attention. It was nice, sure, but it could also be annoying at times.

Now, as an adult running his own business, things have changed. The fangirls have been replaced by regular customers—people from the neighbourhood, office workers, students. Some of the girls still look at him, maybe even flirt a little, but it's different. They’re not giggling or blushing like teenagers. They smile, exchange pleasantries, and Osamu catches the occasional lingering glance, but no one is making a scene.

It’s almost a relief—being popular in school was one thing, but running a restaurant requires a different kind of behaviour. He can’t really ignore girls or play hard to get anymore. He has to smile and be polite all the time. Still, he is good at keeping people at arm's length and has a whole strategy built to keep his female customers without giving them false hope. So when a girl has a crush on him (and he can sense from afar) he adopts his three-steps rule: smiling but not too widely, looking at them in the eyes but not too intensely and when he hands them what they ordered, carefully avoiding any fingers brushing or any physical touch. With that, Osamu hopes that people will come back not because of how he looks but because they will like what he makes. And that’s just fine with him.

And above anything else, if he didn’t have time to date in high school because of the club, now that he is working, he has even less time to give to a significant other. So, he concluded that it’s better to keep people away.

(Well, except you.)

So yes, Miya Osamu is used to the attention. However, as he takes a glimpse at the two obasan grocery shopping on the other side of the road, whispering and grinning at him, he remembers why he hated fangirls back in high school.

“Do we really have to do this in the middle of the street?”

You wave at them with a polite smile and turn your attention back to him.

“Yes, one more, please!” you beg, holding your camera up.

Today is particularly windy and you decide to tie your hair up in a ponytail to keep strands from flying across your face (and Osamu knows you always tie them up when you want to be focused on something.) The sun is up in the sky, and the breeze is chill, summer is over.

The man sighs heavily, dragging out your name in exasperation.

“Osamu.” Your tone shifts, firmer now, the one you use when you're getting serious. Osamu likes to pretend you’re scary when you get like this, but really, you’re not. “Can you tell me who studied communication and social media management here?”

“You,” he mutters, crossing his arms.

“And who is in charge of your Instagram and Facebook pages?”

“You,” he repeats, already knowing where this is going.

“Right. So, unless you want someone else to ruin the carefully crafted image of your business I built, you should probably let me do my job.”

“Yer not even employed here,” he points out, raising an eyebrow.

You match his look, raising yours higher.

“Fine, fine,” he says, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But just one more photo. We’re supposed to open in five minutes.”

You grin in victory and start snapping photos of him. “Miya Osamu, you’re awesome. If you showed your face more you’ll get so much followers.”

Osamu feels a slight warmth creeping into his cheeks, he lowers his cap to hide his face. It’s getting hot, maybe summer isn’t really over?

“But can we at least do that inside?”

He knows you don’t really care whether it makes him uncomfortable or not because you just want to give the best image of Onigiri Miya possible and what’s better than the (good-looking) owner standing in front of his shop, half sat on a table, arms crossed? Nothing, you claim.

“Turn your face so I can see more of your left profile.” You instruct, ignoring his question.

Osamu is about to ask you to stop when Atsumu appears dressed in his MSBY Jackals sweatsuit, frowning.

“Oi, shop's still closed? I’ve got practice, need to eat first,” he complains, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Oh hi, Atsumu!” you lower your camera, “can you wait a few more minutes, I’m taking pictures of your brother.”

“Huh? But how am I supposed to be the best setter in the world if I have an empty stomach?”

Osamu sighs, “All right, all right. I’m openin’ up now. Just wait a sec.”

Atsumu watches as his brother opens the front door. “Wow, shocker. Ya actually listened to me for once.”

Osamu shoots him a flat look, one that makes you chuckle.

You both follow the younger twin inside.

The restaurant is small, but you always tell Osamu it’s warm. The walls are white, so the light reflects all over the place, the counter is made of wood, it’s so clean, sometimes you’re afraid to eat on it. There’s still some work to do and some decorations to add, but Osamu likes this place.

He sees your eyes waver all around the room with a little bit of pride. You both come here every day, but still, Osamu only realises how far he has come once you’ve passed the door and the look on your face lights up like a kid.

Atsumu’s eyes flick over to you as he pulls a chair. “What were ya doin’ outside?”

“I wanted to take some pictures of Osamu for his social media to celebrate the first anniversary of the shop. You know, to get more people to come.”

“Maybe ya should take me as yer model, I’ve always attracted more girls than that moron of ‘Samu.” He puffs his chest proudly.

Atsumu startles when the other twin brutally puts down a packed box with four onigiri inside in front of him. A nice way to tell him to shut up.

He blinks in confusion, staring at the box. “Oi, these are new?”

“Yeah, spicy cucumber and tarako, tell me what ya think.”

“Am I yer crash test or what?” Atsumu’s eyes widen, looking between you and his brother.

Osamu shrugs casually. “Ya always eat what I make, don’t ya? Thought ya wouldn’t mind.”

Atsumu’s indignation fades into a grin, though his pride won’t let him admit he’s secretly pleased to be part of his brother’s culinary experiments. He picks up an onigiri, inspecting it before taking a big bite. “Not bad. It's bitter and salty. But 'Samu, if I end up at the hospital, it’s yer fault. Don’t cry when ya’ll have to tell Ma’ her favourite son is dead.”

“Always so dramatic.” You whisper with a chuckle. The corner of Osamu’s mouth lifts a little at your words.

“Aren’t ya goin’ be late?”

“Nah,” Atsumu says mouth full of rice, “Practice starts a little bit later today, our manager’s lookin’ for someone to handle communication, so he had all those interviews and shit and coach wanted to be here.”

Both you and Osamu exchange a look.

“Atsumu.”

He turns to you, raising a brow.

“Atsumu,” you repeat, more slowly. “You realise I’ve been jobless for a month now, right? And that I’m looking for a job in communication? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that would be good for ya. Ya’ll be surrounded by men. Bokkun, Omi-kun… even Shoyo-kun has joined us.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes. “And? Why is that a problem?”

Atsumu snorts, leaning back in his chair. “Just wonderin’ if ya can handle all those big guys, seein’ as ya’ve been single for—what—three years now?”

The brown-haired twin sees your features cringe at his words, but you quickly add, “But I’m with Osamu most of the time,” you point out, glancing over at his brother, “I’m used to boys.”

Osamu smirks at that.

Atsumu eyes the two of you before finishing his onigiri. “Right, just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

“Do you think I should apply?” You ask Osamu. There’s something in your eyes like you’re searching for his approval but at the same time, his opinion wouldn’t matter anyway for you have already made your decision.

You have changed so much.

Osamu remembers the sixteen-year-old insecure girl he met in high school. Back then, you were quiet, always keeping yourself distant. He hadn’t even had a real conversation with you until the sports festival in his second year, and even then, it had been short, perhaps a little bit awkward. People would forget your name; forget you were in the same grade as them. It never seemed to bother you though. You appeared cold in front of people, but deep down, Osamu always knew you were kind.

The years he spent at your side confirmed that.

Maybe it was the fact that you used to date his former teammate and friend, Suna Rintarou, that pulled you into his world, but even after that relationship ended, you stayed in Osamu’s orbit. In fact, he can hardly remember a time when you weren’t around. You spend so much time at his restaurant, you have dinner together every night, you’re there on the weekends and every January 1st, for who knows how many New Year’s now, you are the first person he sees. You’re a constant in his life, maybe what he could qualify as a best friend (not that he needs to title your relationship, it’s too special to be defined with words).

But somehow, everyone still thinks you’re an introvert, that you don’t like to talk much. That statement never fails to make him smile. Because he knows better. He knows that you love telling him about your day and you love to talk on the phone until the a.m.—when you’re sleepy you tend to ramble. When you start a new activity, you always need to explain in detail what you did and where and how and what you liked or disliked about it. Osamu has no certainties about this world, except for one thing; you might be reserved with others, but never with him.

“Sure, go for it, just know ya’ll have to see ‘Tsumu every day.”

“So what? Are you afraid I’ll spend all my time with your brother instead of you?”

“Me? Yer the one who’s gonna miss me.” He leans on the counter to whisper that last part into your ear. From up close he can see the beauty marks on your face, he rests his chin on his palm and smiles (a side smile, always).

Your lips turn upwards, “You wish.” He can feel your breath against his cheek.

“Oi! Stop whisperin’, I know yer talkin’ about me,” Atsumu interjects, both Osamu and you straighten a little bit. The setter says your name, “D’ya wanna come with me so I can introduce ya to the manager? Maybe ya can give yer CV?”

You turn to Atsumu, “Of course, I’m coming. See you Osamu.”

“I'll close the shop earlier so I can pick ya up Champion.”

"You're the best." You wink at him and join the blond twin outside.

Osamu doesn’t have the time for a relationship because his business comes first.

Or perhaps it comes second.

Right after your friendship.

Osamu waits for you in the parking lot of Osaka’s gym. Your interview is supposed to end in a few minutes but if it were to end sooner, he decided to show up earlier, just in case. It’s become a habit—being there for you before you even ask. It started years ago, and somehow, it never stopped. He catches sight of you emerging from the gym, but your expression worries him. He’s seen almost every side of you by now. Disgust when you eat menma in a ramens, guilt when he picks you up at 3. am. downtown ‘cause you drunk a little bit too much—you always apologise a thousand times, as if he minds driving you home— sadness when your heart had been broken by your first love. And that face, he knows it too; you're overthinking.

Osamu raises a brow as you approach. "So... how’d it go?"

You hesitate, lips pressing together in thought. Your silence makes him uneasy. Osamu notices his hands are starting to sweat just slightly so he decides to hide them in his pockets. Over the years, Osamu has learned that if you're nervous, he is too.

"It went great, actually. Better than I expected." You look down at your shoes for a moment before adding, "But that doesn’t mean anything, right? I don't know if they really liked me... I should have done better..."

Osamu clicks his tongue and opens the passenger door. "Yer always so damn humble. It’s annoyin’, ya know that?"

You chuckle softly and roll your eyes. When you sit next to him in the car and he starts driving, you’re fast to realise he is not going in the direction of your apartment.

"Where are we going?"

"I want to thank ya for takin’ care of the shop’s social and ya know, just supportin’ me and stuff, openin’ the restaurant wasn't easy but ya were there. So yeah…”

“You don’t have to, you know I’m happy to do it.” Your eyes are so soft, Osamu wants to lean in them.

“I know.” He simply answers, he always answers the same thing.

“How about Chinese food?"

You sink into your seat and nod. Osamu can see that you’re happy with his choice from the wrinkles that form around your nose as you smile. A warm feeling spreads into his chest, it’s comfortable like he had just drunk a sweet cup of tea in winter.

“So, how was the interview?” He then asks (and he knows the conversation will last the whole ride because remember, you never shut up with him).

So, you tell him about how it started with the manager and coach, both professional and somewhat intimidating at first, but then the mood shifted when the captain, Meian, walked in. You describe how calm and composed he was. He made a couple of jokes, and you tried your best not to burst into laughter ("I need to stay professional, you know.") Then, of course, Bokuto barreled in behind him like a human whirlwind.

"Bokuto-san was... a lot," you laugh. "He barely let the manager finish a sentence. He was so excited, he even asked me to make a post about him. But you know it’s not like I’m managing the social media yet, so he was very disappointed, and I felt bad. Maybe I should have made a post anyway, to show my skills? But then what if they didn't like it? What if they think I'm incompetent?"

"I'm sure ya did great, smartass" he uses a soft voice, in an attempt to reassure you. "What happened after?"

"And then," you continue, your voice lowering a little as if you're embarrassed, "Sakusa-san showed up. He didn’t say much—actually, he didn’t say anything at first. He just dragged Bokuto-san out of the room. I think he was annoyed."

There it is—that slight blush on your cheeks when you mention Sakusa. It's subtle, but Osamu has known you long enough to notice. For some reason, it bothers him more than it should.

"He’s... interesting," you add, trying to brush past it, but Osamu’s mind lingers the way your voice softened when you mentioned him.

"Is he? I don’t know him that much.” A sudden urge to change the subject invades him.

“Atsumu warned me not to fall for any of his teammates. Said it would be ‘too much drama for the team.”

Osamu glances at you briefly, curious. "And what d’ya think?"

You shrug casually and shake your hands. "I’m not really looking for a relationship right now."

Those words hit him harder than he expected. There’s a surge of relief in his chest, so sudden and sharp that he can’t ignore it. But he does his best to keep his face neutral, hoping you don’t read his mind.

You’re probably afraid to get hurt again, he understands that. When your relationship of three years ended up with Suna, you were devastated. Osamu remembers you crying for months. He was so afraid you’d starved yourself that he couldn’t sleep at night and decided to take care of you as much as he could. He wished he’d done more though.

He keeps his eyes focused on the road like he doesn't dare look at you at this moment.

He thinks the conversation is over when you break the silence again. "What about you? You never talk about your love life. What happened with your last girlfriend? What was her name again?"

Osamu stiffens. He hadn’t thought about her in months, and now that he does, there’s no real emotion attached to it. She was nice, sure. But nice wasn’t enough.

He needs someone funny and kind and bright.

He wants to laugh and to cook and to sit in silence with the one he loves.

"Ah, her," Osamu says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "She didn’t like that I spent so much time workin'."

You wait for him to say more, and he can feel your eyes on him, asking him to keep going. He sighs, feeling a weight settle in his stomach. And with you, he is about to say, but that would make you feel guilty, and he doesn’t want that.

You frown, confused. "She was very pretty though. Why didn’t you ever introduce me to her? Were you... ashamed of me or something?"

Ashamed? Of you? The idea is so ridiculous that it almost makes him laugh, but he can’t shake the look on your face, the way your brows knit together, and you purse your lips slightly.

"I’m not ashamed of you, idiot," Osamu blurts out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can think them through. “I guess, I just didn’t really have the time.”

Your smile softens, and though you don’t say anything more, he can see a glint of joy in your eyes.

“Why are ya smilin’ for?”

“You must really love me.”

Osamu feels his heart skip a beat; he almost misses to stop at the red light.

“Why-why would ya say that?”

“You only insult people you love, like your brother.”

He opens his mouth a little, but nothing comes out.

“I’m glad we’re friends.” You tell him and your voice sounds like a lullaby.

Fuck, Osamu thinks. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken another coffee an hour ago because he can hear his temples beating loudly and he needs to do something with his hands—they’re shaking, they’re shaking. You’re going out of the car once he’s parked; he looks at you. Your smile is still playing at the edge of your lips.

Friends, of course, you’re friends.

That’s great.

Perfect.

Osamu wouldn’t change anything about it.

author notes: i'm sooo happy to start this story, this chapter was essentially a way of setting the scene. compared to the prequel it will be mostly osamu's pov.

i'm gonna try my best to make it possible to read it as a stand-alone but i still think reading the prequel can help to understand the bond between osamu and y/n, anyway i hope you've enjoyed that chapter :)

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @obibiwan, @teyvatsunsets

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ramblingoak · 7 months ago

Text

Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

Secondo x Female Reader

Still lusting over Secondo in the ghaseball uniform so here's a sort of sequel to Sliding Home (which you don't have to read first) and some amazing art by @tasty-ribz. Happy late birthday Ribz! Love you bby 💙

Warnings: baseball talk, smutty fun in a locker room, nsfw 18+ only, mdni, 1600k words, not really beta read forgive me

“Why am I doing this again?”

“I told you,” You slapped his hands away when he reached up to adjust his ball cap. “It’s good pr, gets people curious about the chur–”

“You misunderstand. Why am I doing this again?” Secondo stood up and turned to look himself over in the mirror. “Couldn’t Terzo have taken a turn?”

“Well, I tried Terzo. Had Copia take him out onto the abbey grounds for a game of catch and everything.” When you were silent for a few moments Secondo turned your way with a raised eyebrow. “He, uh, broke one of the windows of Primo’s main greenhouse.”

“Ah. That’s why the old man was screaming the other day.”

“Yes. So that was a whole…thing. Imperator told me to send you again and well, here we are.”

You stood up with a flourish, your arms wide and a big smile on your face. It was clear Secondo wasn’t buying it. He clicked his tongue at you as he took a few steps closer.

“Imperator chose me, eh? Not her golden boy?”

“Copia was uh, busy. You know,” When Secondo closed the distance between you even further you gulped and started backing up. “Papa stuff.”

“Si, I do know of this ‘Papa stuff’.” He grinned when your back hit the wall and you let out a little yelp. “I think I know why I’m here and mio fratellino isn’t.”

“Terzo would’ve nailed someone in the head with a ball.”

“No, not him. Copia.”

“Copia was busy, as I said.”

“Wrong. Copia has been posting pictures of his rats on his private Instagram all morning.”

“Wait, he has a private Instagram? No one told me thi–”

Secondo’s finger on your lips shut you up. You couldn’t help but hold your breath as the man shifted even closer, one arm bracketing you. Like usual, having him so close overwhelmed your senses. His demeanor, his words, even his smell was pulling you in like always. You were absolutely enamored by him.

Especially with him in that uniform.

“I think, cara mia, that you asked Imperator to send me. Specifically.”

“That doesn’t seem like something I would do.”

Secondo flashed you a grin that had your stomach doing a little somersault. He leaned in close, his lips just barely flitting across your own before he moved them close to your ear, “You wanted to see me in this costume again.”

“It’s not a costume, it’s a uniform.” He snorted, the quick exhalation of breath on your ear making you jump. “And so what if I did,” Secondo pulled back far enough for you to see his face, an eyebrow once again raised as he regarded you. “Want to see you in this again? Is that so bad?”

“Non c’è male affatto. It’s bene. Good. But,” His lips were back on your ear, his body now pressing up against you. Your hands moved to grasp at the uniform top, your grip tightening when his tongue ran along the shell of your ear. “Next time just ask me, eh?”

You stumbled a bit when he abruptly backed away, your grip on his top the only thing keeping your wobbly legs from collapsing under you. There was a brisk knock at the door to the room and a voice called out that Secondo had ten minutes. He covered your hands with his, the black leather warm and soft like it always was. You suddenly felt like apologizing and opened your mouth to do so but he seemed to sense it. He shushed you while bringing your hands to his mouth and pressing kisses to each of your palms before letting them go and walking towards the door.

“Papa, wait!” He stopped and turned back towards you, his eyes darkening a bit when you began to slink his way. You reached towards him and straightened his sleeves, smoothing your hands down his chest next until your fingers rested on the buckle of his belt. “Mi dispiace, Papa. Shall I make it up to you?”

“If it pleases you.” His eyes focused on your mouth when you bit your bottom lip, your tongue immediately peeking out to soothe the sting. “It would certainly please me.”

“Let’s make it interesting. How about I reward you based on how you do out there?”

“How I do?”

“Yes,” You ran your hands back up his chest to rest on his broad shoulders. “Let’s say if you go out there and completely screw up you’ll only get a kiss.”

To demonstrate, and because you really wanted to kiss him, you pressed your lips to his, quickly pulling away when he tried to deepen it.

“Or?”

“Or, you could get the ball close to home plate and earn some kisses down here.” Secondo groaned when your hand massaged his cock through his pants. You were quick, not wanting to get him too riled up so he couldn’t even walk out there. His growl when you let go of him had you smiling and reaching up to kiss the tip of his nose. “Does that sound fair so far?”

“I suppose.” When another brisk knock and shout for Papa came at the door again you winked and pulled away. “What do I get if I throw it across the plate? A strike, yes?”

“If you manage a strike, Papa, I’ll let you do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

You stared at each other for a handful of seconds, both of you breathing a little heavier. Secondo was the first to break eye contact, swiftly turning and striding towards the door. When he yanked it open he looked back your way, a small smirk playing at his lips. The stadium assistant trying to usher him onto the field was making worried noises but Secondo ignored him.

“Be ready.”

With that he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and sank down to sit on a bench. The distant roar of the crowd had you smiling and you began to pick some lint off your top.

“Play ball.”

“I don’t fucking believe it. Oh, oh right there.”

His thumb circled your clit again while two of his fingers curled inside of you, dragging along the spot that had you grinding down into them. Your clothes were already soaked from the warm water of the shower, sticking to both of you. Secondo’s cap was on the floor somewhere, along with his belt and your shoes. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you didn’t have a change of clothes to leave the stadium in. All you cared about was that he kept doing that.

“What’s not to believe?” He pulled back far enough so he could take one of your breasts in hand, thumbing at your nipple through your top. “Didn’t think I could throw a strike?”

“No, no I did—oh, yes. Yes, please.”

“Which is it, dolcezza? No?” He smiled, tilting his head as he watched you lose your mind. “Or yes?”

“Yes, you bast–ah!”

Two fingers inside of you became three and he started to pump them in and out of you faster. Even over the falling water you swore you could hear them move through your wetness. In truth you had been wet all damn morning, the anticipation of seeing him in the baseball uniform again was too much. Your head fell back against the wall with a thunk and you watched him through half-lidded eyes. He looked equally a mess as you, the paint running down his face and disappearing down his neck. When he caught you looking he grinned and you were glad the wall was there to help hold you up.

“I’ve been practicing. Knowing you as I do I figured it was only a matter of time before you’d drag me to one of these stupid games again.”

“Baseball isn’t, ah fuck, stupid.”

“Demanding souvenirs and singing that stupid song about pretzels and Cracker Jacks.”

“It’s peanuts and Cracker Jacks you absolute snob–fuck, Papa please. I can’t—”

“You can. You can take this, my fingers fucking you.” He moved in close, the water dripping off his head onto yours, streaking your hair and face in black and white. “You’ll come on my fingers and then you’ll get on your knees and suck my cock.” He was grinning when you looked up at him sharply. “Whatever I wanted, remember?”

“Y-yes.”

“Bene. Molto bene.” He gripped your chin and dragged a thumb across your lips. “I want to come inside your pretty mouth before I come inside your cunt.”

His words coupled with his fingers knowing exactly what you needed had you coming almost immediately. The orgasm rippled through your body and you clung to him as his fingers continued to move inside of you, slower and slower. The water continued to beat down on you both as you took a few moments to collect yourself, eventually looking up to meet his eyes and to see him grinning once more.

“What is it?”

“On your knees, dolcezza.”

You took a quick breath and then obediently dropped, wincing when your knees touched the tile. When you glanced down to his belt quickly Secondo nodded and you went to work undoing it and opening his pants. His thick cock sprang forward, eager for your mouth. As your lips began to close around him he rested his hands on your head, stopping you from going any further. Confused, you pulled away, looking back up at him.

“Papa?”

“Just trying to think of the phrase. Ah,” He bit at his bottom lip like he was trying to hold in a laugh. You huffed, narrowing your eyes because you knew what he was going to say and you both loved and hated him for it. “Play ball.”

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