#one single ploy....?

[llycaons]

when I learned that the shaman warned pyj about something that applied to her own mother I kind of thought it would matter more

[damn-iwantedtobecalledmystique]

The Same by Medical Pilot is such a good ship song and it can be applied to all the best X-Men ships

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

so i googled my current favourite play that i'm absolutely obsessed with and ended up on the english wikipedia site bc my browser is set to english and. it's so bad. the fucking plot overview leaves out basically everything that happens ever except for the end result. several key figures aren't even mentioned. "this guy dies for freedom" well, yes, but actually no, plus you're implying his sacrifice is actually worth it. that's not true. in some other section a dude is mentioned who claims this play is basically star wars. that someone familiar with the play but not star wars could look at a star wars poster and tell you which characters are narratively similar/equal to characters of the play. i am baffled. i have never, not once in my life, ever seen someone be so wrong. dude must have read an entirely different play. i'm tempted to dig up the english version and read it just to see how fucking wrong he is. he is *so* incredibly wrong. jesus fuck. how could you possibly say that

[moechies]

riding toji ; what a pain ! 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。

finger in butt :o , riding , faux dubcon , anal mention

ever since he asked you to get on top, he was whipped. he doesn’t think there’s anything better than this, pretty tits bouncing up in his face, your twitching cunny fervently around his cock, and your desperate grapples at his arm for help. oh, this is perfect; this is what life is all about.

he especially loves when you give up, your soft body plaint against his bulky, hot one as you hide your flushed face in the cove of his shoulder. you feel his hard stomach under yours, abs and pecs pressing into your skin.

he can’t help but scale his fingers down your figure in your moment of rest, admiring each and every cell that forms your gorgeous shape, gentle fingers pinching the skin of your waist.

he sets his eyes on the mound of your butt, his trailing finger slowly crawling against a forbidden region; your butthole.

you’re dazed and fucked out of your mind, yearning for nothing more but to fall asleep with a click, but the heavy cock that lays within your gummy walls prevents you from doing so. while you’re distracted, you feel a singular ragged finger drag its way along the crevice of your mound, pressing against the puckered, virgin hole above your tainted cunny;

“n—no ! not there toji…” you whine, shaking your head against his shoulder. it’s hard for you to scramble away despite your tried efforts, his lodged cock keeping you still.

you know he would take you however he desired to, despite your little begs of no. nothing you say matters when you’re laying against him without a single ounce of strength remaining in your body, solely waiting for the man to get impatient and end up fucking you to sleep.

his thick finger relentlessly presses into the resisting hole, making you cry out. your nails dig into the sweat-gleaming muscle of the man, causing him to let out a light hiss.

“damn tight, little girl .” he chuckles, bucking his hips up into your cunt, readjusting your position on top. you squeal, pounding your fist against his chest with a complaining mewl. he’s so abrupt. he continues your efforts, a hand laid against your back to keep you pliant against him as he rocks his hips gently against your warmth. a thick finger prodding itself in and out of your butthole, and it’s all too much.

“noooo��“ you cry, humping your ass back into his palm. “hnnn… h—hurts back there.” he laughs at the irony of it all; he knows you’re feeling good, what can he say ? he knows how to make you feel great. he knows it’s all a ploy in able to get him to praise you, praise you for being such a good girl, for taking everything he’s giving you, and it works.

“shh, my sweet girl. takin’ m’finger so well. good, good girl .”

you let out a wanton moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure, just as the chubby tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. his finger pumps a tad faster, a tad deeper and it fills you so wrongfully well.

“y’gonna take my cock in here next time, hm? that’s what the best girls do.”

[xazse]

not rlly a request but it can be if uw??

I can't stop thinking abt kitty hybrid user and some big cat hybrid gojo (snow leopard, tiger, lion, etc). Suguru originally had hybrid Gojo as a pet, but then found kitty reader and decided to adopt them, and the moment Gojo sees them, he instantly decides that reader is his mate, and just follows them around like a dumb puppy. He'll cling onto reader and groom them all day, licking their fur and their face and not stopping even when reader complains or when Suguru tries to step in. Gojo is super super possesive of reader, and insists on eating, sleeping and bathing with reader, and will start shredding cushions or other things if denied. He's a big cat, so his claws do some serious damage to furniture, so Suguru has no choice but to give in if he doesn't want to spend everything in his bank account to repair the damage. I'd imagine Gojo and reader would have a similar dynamic to your puppygirl and wolf Gojo fics, but Gojo is the one teasing and getting all over reader. Reader's just too innocent to realise what's going on, so they just let Gojo do whatever. Thanks for reading my little blurb, I just needed to get it out!! Hope u have a nice day ❤️

The Preakness in this needs to be studied omg

I want to expand.

KittyHybrid !reader x Tigerhybrid!Gojo

Satoru really thinks he owns you like literally thinks you were bought just for him when that’s not the case, well yeah you were bought for companionship but Suguru also got you because he felt the house was too manly? It would be nice to have a girl around. So he got ur little cute self, at the hybrid facility you were the sweetest thing ever, you’d lay yourself all over Suguru in a ploy to go home with him, he of course gave in.

The first few days he has to keep you separated from Satoru for obvious reasons, Satoru is extremely protective over the house, Suguru can’t have any company over besides Shoko who he tolerates in his space. When he first smelt you he was angry, he couldn’t tell you what you were so he was on edge, the thing is he had only smelled you not seen you.

Suguru has you in another room letting you get familiar with Gojos scent and also letting him get familiar with yours, Gojo really won’t leave the locked door you’re behind alone he’s constantly coming near it to sniff and try to unlock it, Suguru has to guide him to get away from it every single time.

When he does meet you a warmth blooms within his chest, women are such a rarity for Satoru especially other hybrids, you don’t come from the same family as him but he’s so obsessed.

He insists that he have an hour licking session of him using his slimy tongue to clean you even though you really don’t need it! Everytime you try to pry him off in a whiny tone he’s hearing none of it. It gets to the point where you have to whine for a suguru to help you: he does but Satoru has the meanest fucking expression on his face when you’re pried from his arms. He goes on to have an attitude for the rest of the day.

You’re so right about Gojo scratching couches with his sharp claws in retailiation, he gets soo clingy with you, so angry when Suguru separates you it’s so bad that like you said Suguru doesn’t want to deal with him ruining expensive things around the house, that doesn’t mean he’ll let Satoru do whatever he wants with you there are some limits.

Most of the time you’re nice and pliant in Satoru’s lap, you don’t fight back when he carries you around the house simply just letting the huge tiger do what he pleases.

You don’t seem to mind when he rubs himself all over you, purring so loudly because he’s just that obsessed with the docile kitty.

Tiger!Satoru loves your little cunt just as much as he loves the rest of you, he’s only gotten to feel your warm insides once because that’s where Suguru drew the line hard. It was the best day of his life, all you did was mewl below him while he stuffed you full of his fat cock, he came so quickly that night.

He craves to feel you again but Suguru stood his ground, he’d get rid of you if it came to that again (not that he wanted to, Suguru really loved having you around the house it was just an empty threat that seemed to work)

Tiger!Satoru will settle for licking and giving you nasty slippery kisses!

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Batman is confused. Elsewhere, a fox has dinner with a social worker.

Trigger Warning for starvation and animal/child abuse. Read at your own risk.

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have a question about the report you submitted last Tuesday.”

“What is it, father?” Damian stopped sharpening his blade and looked up at Bruce, still in his cowl from patrol.

“Could you please explain this… Fox… you wrote about?” He asked, carefully picking his words.

“What about it?”

The cave was filled with silence as they stared each other down. Bruce contemplated how to proceed. 

“Damian, foxes can’t do these things. They can’t understand human speech to the degree you described, they don’t exchange food for services, they can’t point you to the joker.”

“Are you calling me a liar father?” Damian snipped back.

Bruce didn’t answer.

“I didn’t lie,” Damian seethed through clenched teeth, “You can ask Grayson if you don’t believe me. But I did not lie.”

Bruce contemplated that reaction. Perhaps it wasn’t just a ploy to get a new pet. “Foxes can’t do those things,” he repeated, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I know.”

~~~~

Jason did not yelp. He did not jump and definitely did not scream like a 5 year old watching a horror movie. In fact he did not react at all when he walked into his safe house, turned on the light, and heard the gravelly voice of the 6 foot tall hell beast behind him calling his name. Nope. Not a single reaction. Not even a flinch. Totally. Definitely. 

Which is why Bruce’s current expression is completely unwarranted. It was the expression he made when Jason ate 5 plates of pancakes in one sitting two months into living with him. It was the expression he made when Jason lost his tooth naturally for the first time — rather than in a fight. It was the expression he made when Jason cried over a bruised knee when learning how to ride a bike. It was the expression he made when Cass fell asleep against him during a movie, close and comfortable. It was the expression he made when Stephanie would show off a new skill she learned or hobby she picked up. It was the expression he made when Tim would show off his photos, or when Babs would take a break to read a new book. It was the expression he made when Damian would ask for a play date, or Dick would show off new clothes. It was the expression he made when his kids, his family, acted like normal people, and not vigilantes burdened with a fight they could never win. And there was no reason for him to make that awful, soft, sappy, expression now because Jason did not scream.

“The fuck you want?” Jason snapped (because he was upset about being intruded upon, and definitely, totally not because he was embarrassed about squealing like a little girl. Which is something he did not do, by the way.)

“I wanted to ask you about something,” his voice was clear and stern, but still held concern and care.

Jason tilted his head toward Bruce, urging him to continue. “Damian wrote a report I found… odd. It was about your informant,” That idiotic fool “I was hoping you could clarify something.” 

Jason signed, he’d reem the little twerp later, and plopped himself down on the ratty once-beige couch. “Alright. Shoot.”

~~~~

The clothes were itchy. Unbelievably so. They were baggy, but the intentional kind. The kind that hid how malnourished you were, rather than highlighting it. They were new, unwashed, ugly, and would likely be returned the next day, if the tag digging into your back was any indication.

“How are things going dear?” Asked Ms.Kelsey, a naive younger woman with a brown bun and thin purple glasses, “are you liking your stay with Neels?”

“It’s not the worst home I’ve been in,” you answered smoothly. That wasn’t a lie. Despite the fact you could only shower on Wednesday mornings, they confiscated your phone two days in, and they seemingly despised the idea they had to feed you, it still wasn’t the worst home you’d been in. Not even top five. 

“That’s good to hear!” Ms.Kelsey, your current social worker, celebrated. She was new to the job, only a year in, and annoyingly cheerful, but she was visibly trying her best. You appreciated that. “How’s school been going?”

“We’re reading Shakespeare in my English class,” you offered.

“Oh! And how are you liking it?”

“It’s alright, but I really like my English teacher, he makes it fun.”

“That’s wonderful sweetie,” Ms.Kelsey grinned, “Let’s go join the family for dinner,” she directed, standing from the worn brown armchair in the living room and heading towards the dining room where the Mr. and Mrs. Neel were seated beside their son, George.

You took your seat at the stubby table, across from George. The table was dressed with a tacky floral tablecloth, and covered with various mismatched bowls of sides surrounding a rather large chicken. The food was, as typical for Mrs. Neel, simultaneously overcooked and raw. You plopped a spoonful of soggy broccoli on your plate, followed by a serving of (unintentionally chunky) mashed potatoes. No chicken, you weren’t willing to risk salmonella or the screaming fit that would follow. Only simple sides that they have plenty of, so they wouldn’t get mad at you. 

The mashed potatoes crunched when you took a bite, and you tried your best to ignore it. They tasted wet and sad, and far too salty. Chewing was both difficult and necessary as parts of the food slashed down your throat with little resistance, and others put up a fight when you tried to chew them. But this wasn’t the worst home you’ve been in. Far from it in fact. At least the food isn’t moldy! And there’s no— no, wait, yup that’s hair. You decided to risk the chunky potatoes swallowed down your mouthful with a glass of water.

Ms.Kelsey and the Neels exchanged pleasant conversation, while you picked at your food, taking small mouthfuls fast enough they wouldn’t ask questions, and slow enough you could carefully examine all the food. The evening passed in a swift haze, with no mistakes on your end. After Miss Kelsey left, you helped clear the table, pack the food away, and retreated to your rarely used bedroom.

The bedroom had bare white walls, an uncomfortable bed, and a small dresser you kept your clothes in. It was fine. Everything was fine, you kept repeating to yourself. It could be much, much worse. It has been much, much worse. Be thankful for what you have. At least tomorrow you’ll see your friends again! That’s gotta count for something, right?

~~~~

“They… didn’t come today…” Damian rarely allowed his emotions to breathe freely, so seeing him look so defeated was odd.

“It happens from time to time. ‘Bout once a month,” Jason clumsily tried to comfort, “they’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Do you think they’re ok?” Damian asked, almost pleading, and looked up at Jason.

“I— ummm — ya,” he awkwardly placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “I’m sure they’re fine.” He was not sure, actually, but he hoped it was true. “Let’s leave the food here, so they’ll have something if they drop by later.” 

Damien seemed pleased by the idea. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚

Notes:

I put this elsewhere, but in case you haven't seen it: I'm having some technical difficulties with responding to comments, but I see them, and I appreciate them <3

[malleleothreesome]

Azul Ashengrotto x afab Reader - Aphrodisiac + Breeding

💜 summary: After an alchemy accident, you and Azul end up covered in an aphrodisiac potion ༶༶༶ 💜 warnings: afab reader, smut, LOTS OF BREEDING KINK, pregnancy mention, porn with plot??? ༶༶༶ 💜 word count: 8.4k words I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED ༶༶༶ 💜 song: Vapor - 5 Seconds of Summer "I wanna feel you in my veins I want to breathe you in like a vapor I want to be the one you remember I want to feel your love like the weather, all over me" ༶༶༶ 💜 inspired by: this ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

As a magicless human, Alchemy had always been your favorite class at Night Raven College. Despite lacking an innate aptitude for spell-casting, mixing and crafting potions was an artform that didn't require magic in order to bring spectacular effects into the world. Alchemy classes provided a refuge—a safe space with no barrier for entry where you could excel instead of feeling singled out for being an oddity in a sea of talented mages. You relished in the opportunity to learn about new components and elements, excitedly observing as volatile chemicals bubbled in heated pots to produce glowing, glittery pastes.

Much to your suspicion, Azul had always been particularly enthused to help you with potions, boasting how he was the most adept in the class due to his academic proficiencies, and that he was certain you'd find success with his aid. He took special interest in mentoring you, watching your delicate, nimble movements as you worked, walking you through procedures and detailed steps, and speaking knowledgeably about the ingredients in a tone that oozed expertise. His tutelage had helped you reach impressive grades on even the most challenging assignments. It wasn’t long before you found yourself spellbound by his charming intellect, deceivingly sweet demeanor, and the addictively intense gaze of his unique blue eyes.

There was always a subtle mischief hidden behind the smiling eyes and the easy charisma that suggested an ulterior motive lurking beneath his silver-tongue. Based on your observations of his interactions with other students, you assumed this was a ploy in hopes that if you had taste of the sweet, intoxicating elixir of power and success, you'd become desperate for more of his help, consequentially making you subservient and open to the idea of contracting yourself to him. In defiance of your paranoia that his motivations are not entirely altruistic, you did always feel an odd prickle in the air when he stood right behind you to monitor your actions. That sensation, a fiery buzz that hummed in your lower abdomen, always gave your heart flutters and kept you on edge as Azul's calm breaths ghosted against your hair and sent ripples of warm pleasure tingling through you. Your breath hitched in your throat as his large, gloved palms gently guided you through your motions, brushing over the bare skin on your knuckles or arms, leaving electric jolts where you felt his warmth. He smelled crisp like ocean breeze, an inviting fragrance that enveloped your mind and wrenched you out of reality and into his heady fantasy—a scene in which all you can taste are the thick, sweet notes of his dark intentions, and all you could do was choke on his cloying, dominating allure. He didn't ask permission to touch you or indicate an appropriate method to teach—no, his hands simply snaked around your waist and ran along your curves, slowly learning the feeling of your soft flesh through his gloves. Each time, you couldn't help but sink a little closer to his chest, instinctively chasing the seductive ambience radiating off of him, drowning in his captivating presence as though he was the tide pulling you under. There was no denying it—you wanted more of him.

Today's lab was no different, the air was tense and thick with charged attraction, filled with sexual tension so palpable it could be cut with a knife. The assignment was to experimentally combine various liquids, mixing and adjusting for better consistency, until you found a formula to concoct a viable, bountiful healing potion that would greatly ease the effects of injury. This assignment was a notoriously difficult, energy-draining procedure that required extreme vigilance to avoid an adverse chemical reaction that would result in a completely different type of potion, although Crewel didn’t elaborate on the exact details. After carefully pouring two compounds—one a milky white, and the other a vivid magenta—into a tall, cylindrical flask, Azul cautiously peered over your shoulder to check your concoction's progress as you stirred them. With one arm outstretched against the table to secure a good vantage point, he rested his other on your waist and leaned in closer as he studied the bubbling pink mixture. After adding an infusion of ground powder, a burst of sparkles clouded the interior of the flask, a telltale sign you were on the right track. This is the portion of the experiment where you needed to take extra caution to mix the elements together in perfect precision without faltering or taking your eyes away from your project, a delicate operation requiring the utmost concentration. Suddenly, Grim barges in and jumps on the lab station in excitement, yapping about how he wants to help, despite you and Azul explaining multiple times he has a proven history of destroying your projects.

The moment the little cat-monster attempts to extend his claws into your precious potion, Azul reacts automatically with surprising speed, his hands fly in a frenzy to scoop Grim away from your chemistry equipment. "Get off that this instant, Grim! You have no business here! Get your little paws out of that glassware this instant before you ruin another assignment! Do not interrupt us! Get away from there immediately!" Azul scolds him repeatedly while chasing him around the room, attempting to steer him to the door. "Why you foolish beast! You're far more of a liability than an asset! This experiment requires extreme care and concentration to avoid failure—a common result of your erratic, clumsy behavior!" His expression hardens with anger, eyebrows drawing into a line as Grim hisses defiantly. The little monster still hasn't relented, his hind legs clumsily scrabbling and slipping in Azul's grip as he tries desperately to cling onto the edge of the lab table, hoping for a quick paw-hold. A heavy, frustrated sigh escapes Azul's nostrils, his face morphing into one of desperation, pleading with the troublesome cat-creature to just leave you to focus your project in peace.

"How very annoying... To think he would willingly place himself in danger without even stopping to consider the consequences... what a foolish and irresponsible creature," he exhales irritably, struggling to wrestle Grim from his precarious position as his composure begins to slip, agitation creeping through his voice and shattering his typical polished and suave illusion of unflappable equanimity. He continues to scold Grim as he chases him around your station, gritting his teeth and losing his cool as the monster's cries of distress and denial ring through the entire room. Grim is an unrelenting little bastard who won't quit squirming. There isn't the slightest semblance of remorse or pity on his stupid, feline face, and Azul feels his resolve crack as he becomes utterly fed up with this spoiled brat's behavior. Grim continues to kick and howl his way through Azul's grip, determined to aid with your Alchemy project, but his clumsy movements start causing your potion to bubble and ripple in an unsettling manner. You shriek his name, begging him to just settle the hell down and be a team player.

It happens in a matter of seconds—a fizzling sound grabs your attention. You turn back around quickly and notice your reaction beginning to froth violently. Your eyes widen in horror and your mouth drops in disbelief. Azul notices your fear-wide eyes and immediately stops his futile efforts to reprimand Grim. In an instant, his gaze reflects the alarm in yours and the blood drains from his already pale cheeks. Grim runs out in a screaming huff as he exits in a frenzied flurry, knowing when to take a hint and make a clean getaway. At this point, the compound is pouring heavily from the top of the flask, spewing out onto the heating device and coating the table below. The chemical reaction is completely beyond your control now, its speed increasing exponentially, bubbling and exploding, kicking out thick, unmanageable clouds of murky pink and purple fumes. Within seconds, it covers the lab tables in an almost misty haze as you choke and sputter in a coughing fit, Azul gasping and choking right alongside you, panic flashing across his face. An eerie glow seeps through the thick liquid as a swirling mist appears from inside the glass. Without warning, it erupts directly toward the two of you before either of you have time to take cover—shattering the flask and showering the fronts of your faces and bodies in its noxious, intoxicating fluids. Both you and Azul choke out muffled yells and groans, the sticky, glittering mixture clinging to the fabric of your clothes and the exposed skin on your faces.

The next thing either of you register is Crewel's obnoxious bark as he spits out sharp commands to open the windows and clear out all the air from the room. Coughing, you gasp for fresh oxygen, suddenly becoming very aware of how fast your heart is racing. It thumps so hard and so forcefully inside of your ribcage that the noise reverberates loudly in your ears, overwhelming your senses. However, no amount of labored inhaling can free you from the toxic, vaporous gas; every molecule in your lungs has already been bombarded and completely overcome by the potion’s effects. As its intoxication takes hold of you, a wicked fever seems to roar within you, followed by a horribly slow heat that makes your limbs ache. Every orifice of your body is saturated by the miasma—liquid slips between your lips, gushing down the front of your body to coat your exposed neck and chest. You taste the surprisingly sweet potion on the inside of your mouth; its taste lingers sweet and tacky on the flat of your tongue, coating your throat. You'd panic that you just consumed some horrific cocktail with traces of corrosion or stomach-rotting acid, if it weren't for the fact that Crewel seems more frustrated than concerned for your well-being. Rather than damaging you, whatever substance was expelled seems to be having quite the opposite effect; you feel your body becoming more energetic, your head becoming lighter, and a bubbling rush of warmth seems to radiate all over from the inside out, changing your physiology into a fertile garden in need of sowing. Adrenaline rushes through you and awakens your basal instincts, forcing you to acknowledge every excruciating detail of your body in an erotic manner. Arousal slithers through your veins like venom, poisoning all remaining thoughts and rationality, as a throbbing, almost blinding wave of pleasure overtakes your body. You become intensely, achingly aware of your physical needs, and all those needs center upon an impassioned desire to be filled, stretched, and seeded full—the frantic urge to be bred nearly splits you in half and makes your lower belly cramp in a hot flash of want. For a second, you hear Azul stutter something to you, his voice wavering on the verge of cracking with the desire that the aphrodisiac had triggered. You lock eyes with Azul, pupils blown wide as lust makes his oceanic gaze shimmer. The front of his slacks have grown embarrassingly tight with the straining girth of his aroused cock. You meet his clouded eyes, almost embarrassed by your wanton thoughts and the desperate throbbing between your thighs.

It is only a split second of recognition, a blurry, sweaty haze of unfathomable passion, before your shared moment is interrupted. Crewel shouts at you to look him in the eyes, snapping you out of your sexual frenzy, even if only for a split second. He stares at you, his gray-streaked hair framing the contoured features of his face as he cocks an eyebrow. The elder gives your flushed skin and trembling body a once-over.

"Just as I thought. It's a dopamine-based aphrodisiac. At least nothing fatal or life threatening, but enough to send you both into a delirious, euphoric-fueled rut," he assesses calmly, unfazed. "What's more, the way the explosion altered the structure of the compound has made its properties even more potent and uncontrollable. In terms you incompetent pups will understand, we're past the stage of antidote or reprieve, and you both have mere moments before the hormones will reach maximum capacity and you two will need to find some private location to release the effects..." He trails off. From his expression, you can tell there is more he would like to add to the situation, yet a worrisome crinkle furrows his brow as his eyes remain on Azul, as though assessing whether the situation is really as under control as he wishes. "Both of you bad dogs listen carefully. Do not even dare to even breathe a word of what transpired here—you are to wait in isolation for five to eight hours until its effects wear off. Under no circumstances should you share physical contact with anyone else for the remainder of the day." He holds Azul's gaze longer than necessary, silently threatening him not to take advantage of this situation—but Azul seems far too caught up in the spell and too infatuated by the burning image of you, sweating, panting, and splayed before him.

"Should anyone at all realize that the two of you have taken any sort of love potion or been afflicted in this manner, it could create a massive scandal, and I'll punish you both so mercilessly for causing such an indiscretion, you'll be licking my boots in front of the entire school!" his deep voice booms in threat. "Have I made myself understood, dear pets?" Crewel snaps, the sting of his whip making both you and Azul wince and nod profusely. He leads you and Azul to the decontamination area of the lab, ushering you two into separate stalls so you can change into fresh, dry garments and wipe off the evidence of the explosion from the potion. When you both emerge, it takes Crewel less than a second to glance from the massive bulge straining against Azul's clothing, to where your heaving, quivering chest is spilling over the low neckline, your nipples hard and pressing obscenely through the thin fabric. He glares down his nose at the two of you in distaste.

"Five to eight hours," he hisses, eyes narrowing, almost sizing you and Azul up like he's waiting for one of you to give in to the pressure of the aphrodisiac. He throws open a back door, gesturing for you and Azul to disappear. Azul leaves first, a flushed, jumbled mess of conflicting emotions that are only intensified as he can feel every agonizing beat of his aroused heart pulse in the heat of his hard dick. You follow closely behind, but before you can cross the doorway, Crewel shoots his hand out to grip you by the upper arm, turning you to him as he towers over you, giving you an intense glare before sighing and pulling a small vial of bluish, iridescent potion from his bag and thrusting it into your hands.

"Since I know you won't be able to resist such a delectable temptation from that damn fishy bastard," his words drip with annoyance as he continues, "at least be safe, Pup. Go have a nice screw if that's what you really desire. The serum I just gave you is a contraceptive—just one sip and you will have full reproductive control, in case Azul isn't a decent man about his desires." You blink up at him in utter bewilderment. "Under no circumstances will I allow my star pupils to fall prey to the temptations and consequences of unprotected intimacy in the midst of this reckless hormone rush... I can't allow something like this to affect you or your ambitions. My students can only go to greater places." You feel his eyes burning with concern as he brushes your cheek, sending you a warning in his eyes and urging you to please think it through and consider it. "You are interested in Azul, are you not? I won't allow you to get involved in anything you don't consent to. If you don't feel safe, I can escort you straight to Ramshackle dorm and I will handle Ashengrotto myself." His stare, once cold and imposing, is now warm with protective care, as he looks you up and down with a gentle softness you didn't expect from your professor. The paternalistic expression on his face strikes your soul and pulls on your heartstrings a bit. After all, it's the type of support you feared was lost to you once you found yourself trapped in Twisted Wonderland with no hope of ever seeing your family again. With all the gentleness of a father, he squeezes your shoulder and gazes deeply into your eyes. You assure him that it's okay, you trust Azul. Nodding, your professor finally allows you passage out the door.

You had barely made it beyond the courtyard doors before Azul approached you with a sickly sweet, almost giddy look on his face. His steel-blue irises burned bright with anticipation, accompanied by a hint of something dark and salacious flickering in the shadows. The corners of his lips pulled taut, curling upward in a devious smile. A tremulous shudder passed through you and prickled up your spine at the thought of those hypnotizing eyes studying you while you lay enraptured beneath him, completely at his mercy. As he takes a few tentative steps toward you, his right hand glides and rests softly on your hip, making you gasp with surprise, your heartbeat fluttering and pounding deafeningly in your ears. Azul leans close to your ear, his breath coming out in hot, rapid pants, a carnal excitement that threatens to spill over and devour you whole. You swallow in nervous expectation, hardly daring to look into his lustful gaze. With his elegant index finger, he lifts your chin up and you are left gasping and flushed beneath him, lips parted to beg him for more as his gentle caress lingers. He flashes a devilishly handsome smile before tracing your lower lip with a seductive slowness. "Please, allow me to escort you back to Octavinelle where I can properly tend to you and your condition," the breathiness of his voice and his lack of composure cause your clit to throb, your inner walls pulsating, pleading to be stretched and ravaged. His lecherous advances and insinuations combined with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins is making you so aroused, even standing close to him is threatening to make you cum. The very fabric of his essence seems to burn a shade darker—there is a terrifying intensity to his ardent desire for you, yet also a rawness and exposure you hadn't seen on his usually suave and polished facade.

Your whole body flushes when your gaze lands upon the size of his aching erection, an impressive tent straining tightly against his immaculate slacks, begging for attention through the dark material of his trousers. There is a manic, primal gleam that's spreading rapidly across his entire visage; he looks rabid with uncontainable greed, and you shudder at the thought that Azul will use your body to satisfy his own dark and twisted curiosities. "Please... It's the least I could do. After all, our most unfortunate situation is all due to my own recklessness," Azul pleads. His tone of voice is unwaveringly convincing in its sweet charm, yet you cannot escape the licentious twinkle that betrays his intentions, eyes ablaze with passion and lips quivering at the thought of making you his forever.

"Please... Just let me serve you and tend to your every whim," he begs. Even though the tone of his voice suggests innocence, you're reminded once more that Azul Ashengrotto believes the true intent in a plea is only to benefit his own ambitions—how ironic, then, that you find yourself overwhelmed with the desire to listen to the velvety cadence of his whispered sweet-nothings until you orgasm multiple times around the girth of his hard dick. Before you can speak, he reaches out and threads his fingers between your own. It was impossible to say no to the lilting honey of his tone, nor was there any will to fight as his firm and commanding hands ushered you towards the teleportation door. He practically pulls you into the mirror with him, and with a twinkly, delighted laugh, his covetous hand grasps you harder than ever as the portal draws closer, his eyes and touch almost reverential—eager, desperate, craving. The surface of the mirror swallows both of you up as the shadows distort the edges of your vision. The whole world spins around you both before the smell of the sea overwhelms your senses—the crispness of ocean air fills your lungs, and a feeling of cool relief washes over your flushed skin. In seconds, Azul is shoving you into an elevator and hitting the button to his suite. When the metal doors slide open, he gently shuffles you forward as he urges your body closer and closer toward his bedroom.

After his dorm door slams shut, your bodies mindlessly work to free the other's of their pesky and offending clothing, eager and restless fingers tearing and ripping at each article as though your lives depended on it. As each piece of clothing is discarded on the floor, new heated skin presses desperately into another as your erotic moans reverberate through the air. It feels electric, the way your sensitive, exposed bodies seek each other out, pawing and grasping at any available flesh and kissing any naked skin you can reach. Your hot, yearning mouth hungrily seeks Azul's for an urgent, feverish kiss—it is sloppy, desperate, almost savage as you share the intensity of your lusty feelings, gasping into each other's mouths, sucking, nibbling, tasting the sweet and sticky aphrodisiac concoction still lingering on both of your tongues. When Azul finally sheds his trousers, his painfully erect member juts out, throbbing and eager, bouncing happily and proudly as it quivers with eagerness. His knees weaken at the sudden release of the tension he'd suffered since the accident, the air a bit brisk against the heat of his erection, which begs to nestle itself securely into an inviting heat and fill your womb with the lusty seed it desires to spurt forth. His cock is ruddy and reddened, and his sack hangs swollen and tight with pent-up pressure. He doesn't think it possible for it to throb and swell even larger, yet its angry head and veins grow dark and twitch from his hot blood pumping. His hand mindlessly falls to his cock, and at the first stroke to his aching member, a needy whine catches in his throat. There is no time for shyness or apprehension. Whatever spell you were both under was driving you forward—like two planets caught in the gravity of an irresistible force, each gravitationally pulled toward the other with no means to stop. The rational part of his brain has been overwhelmed by an urgent instinct. Azul knows without a shadow of doubt that the only cure for this overwhelming haze of sexual depravity is to thrust himself deep inside the hot, velvety cunt of his precious lab partner.

Next thing you knew, you were pushed roughly, falling backwards before connecting against the smooth, luxurious blankets covering his mattress. He follows eagerly, letting his entire weight drop against your form and trapping your supple body beneath his. It was then, right then, when Azul found that the feeling of his aroused cock pressing against your thigh was unbelievably divine—a warm and pleasant tingling sensation spreading all over his hot, hard shaft and emanating out from his loins. With a contented hum, Azul can't resist the urge to buck his hips against your warm skin, stroking his arousal a little further, groaning at the exquisite friction. What a delicious sight you are—all nude and aroused—splayed and exposed across his bed. The effects of the potion have left you looking thoroughly wrecked, legs open, dripping and hot with an aroma so alluring, it nearly knocks the air out of his lungs. You are positively lovely, just as he'd always dreamed, with your petals unfurled and beckoning, enticing him further and drawing him in as your soft moans coaxed his cock in closer. To see you writhing and panting, the flush of your skin as you burned with longing for him...it was exactly as he'd always wanted it, almost as though someone had crafted the perfect image just to fulfill his darkest wishes. A surge of erotic fantasy comes upon him, and Azul's breath hitches in his throat as he ponders, briefly, about your womb filled with his seed, his beautiful angelfish round with child. He wants nothing more than to unceremoniously bury himself as deep within as he can, to push his thick, pulsating shaft as far as you could manage and stay buried to the hilt for days. His body quivers with excitement as a particularly vulgar dream reenters his mind. He had longed, always, to possess a most lascivious power over you—the power to make you writhe and squirm in bliss, and more importantly, in total and unbreakable dependence and submission for him—the neediest, sluttiest mess imaginable. Perhaps he'd have to thank Grim later for consequentially bringing about this fortunate chain of events.

Azul begins stroking himself fully, unabashed in his view of the sight before him. You don't protest the show. In fact, a high pitched, whimpery moan escapes you as you bite into your thumb to stifle the volume, but the sound is not missed, the harsh pang in his cock proof enough. After some thought, he realizes that he much preferred when you had been writhing and moaning quite uninhibitedly a moment earlier. You shift uncomfortably underneath his heated gaze as his eyes drink in every little curve, every little wrinkle and fold of your dripping pussy. Your toes curl inward and the ache deep within you demands attention. "You're so perfect, my little angelfish. Your body is exactly as I imagined," his saccharine voice admits as he leans forward, letting his fingers dance across the swell of your breasts. His left hand cradles your jaw and throat as his right continues its delicate massage across the plush pillow of your breasts, toying with the perked nubs of your nipples as his thumbs swirl small circles against the delicate flesh.

Azul's gentle touch ignites flames under his fingertips that follow his descent down to the juncture of your legs. The first brush against your swollen bundle of nerves and slit has your spine arching upwards, making his cock throb even more painfully, stiffening under the visual of your trembling body. A whine escapes and your hips grind involuntarily, the heat building intensely as his fingers begin to experimentally spread your folds slowly, running the tip of a finger from your core to the hood of your pearl. Without warning, Azul swipes upwards, expertly pulling back the hood and exposing the raw, sensitive flesh of nerves underneath, pinching down on the fleshy bud and causing you to yelp loudly in shock. With a satisfied grin, his forefinger begins to toy and tweak the hardened bud, rubbing gentle, rhythmic patterns over and over against the bundle as a chorus of delightful, high-pitched squeals fill his dormitory. After a few more ministrations, his hands continue down, delving his fingers straight into the moistened and heated opening, swiping up the slick mess you had coated his palm in. Two long fingers deftly slip right between your folds, caressing their way around your labia, your wet walls clenching around his fingertips desperately. "This wetness, for me?" Azul chuckles wickedly, crooking his fingers upward and brushing your g-spot with a knowing curl of his fingers, sending you spasming, gasping, and writhing in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering wildly. "Oh, my dearest—so precious, my angelfish. That's it, so beautiful, just for me..." His voice drips with lecherous intent, his body moving without even the slightest hint of hesitation as though you were merely an extension of his own and not even a separate entity. Your wetness coats his fingers easily as Azul keeps sliding his fingers into your wet heat until the pads of his fingers touch all your deepest, hidden places, causing more sweet moans to fall from your lips and echo through his room. He scissors and curls his digits inside, stroking you slowly as though wanting to feel every bump, crease, and ridge along your walls, claiming his ownership over your deepest parts with a sinister delight.

A pressure builds and teeters precariously right at the precipice—the curling of his digits work feverishly to milk every drop of pleasure he can from your shuddering body, the warm flood of wetness drenching his eager fingers and making his head fall back with a sensuous moan. He continues with his relentless assault against your pussy, whispering filthy compliments about how badly he wanted to fuck you and how sexy it is when you take his fingers so well. Your legs flutter open wider, inviting his slim and nimble digits deeper within you, fucking them vigorously as your release begins to pool, rising closer to the boiling point. The aphrodisiac grips its poisonous talons deeper into your mind, warping and bending everything into an unshakable desire to submit yourself and your pleasure to the hands of the devious sea creature above you. He leans down, his silvery eyes roving over your face in an intense appraisal, his features drawn in with concentration, mapping out how to unravel you—there wasn't an emotion or micro expression that slipped past his vision as he carefully considered all the factors of how best to please and overwhelm your body with incomparable rapture. There isn't anything else beyond the present—no outside forces, nor worries about the consequences of being intimate. There's simply no room in your mind to think at this point, the cloudiness of the effects rendering your body vulnerable—you give yourself up entirely. He drinks up every breath, every shake and shiver, as he continues calculating your climax, relishing in each tiny noise or action he drew from you, meticulous with the acquisition of your bliss.

"Yes. Give in." he laughs maniacally, his face fully consumed in the intense madness of his lustful insanity. "Give in to every sensation. Let me drive you wild... Do as I command and cum," Azul demands you through his laughter, his breathing rapid and heavy as he watches your eyes rolling back. He moans in awe as the loud, slick sounds of his hand filling your soaking cunt meet his ears and a deep flush travels across his collarbones. His own needy cock leaks, eagerly anticipating what's next as its engorged state bulges obscenely, its every vein throbbing with virile desperation. Your high-pitched moans continue for some time as his pace stays fast, until you can finally feel your entire body tensing up, the fire coiling inside your gut ready to explode any moment. Everything builds higher and higher to the peak, every muscle and nerve fiber in your body primed to receive that last push that would send you catapulting over the cliff. As he feels your walls tremble, Azul moans along with your high-pitched wailing. A deranged smile stretches across his face and his silver eyes fill with amusement and fascination. 

Azul leans into your ear, whispering sweet nothings mixed with commanding, demanding words to finally succumb, "That's it...Let go..." He twists and digs deeper, stroking the perfect places inside you, hitting the correct spots relentlessly in an overload of mind-bending, debauchery-fueled, electric-spark pleasure, forcing your senses to dissociate from reality. His thrusting hand matches the frantic racing of his own heart, unable to keep the carnal fever down. "Give in... submit yourself fully, and surrender that orgasm. It's mine. I've worked for it, and now it belongs only to me." He whispers in a devilish growl, nibbling on your ear as his strokes become rougher, harder, faster—you can hardly stand the overwhelming force of your pleasure before its sweet relief crashes like waves. A broken moan leaves your mouth, a pure exaltation of uncontrolled passion. Noises come tumbling out and spilling over until you finally dissolve into a messy orgasm, shrieking his name in pleasure as his hand slows its motions but doesn't stop, keeping its pressure steady and rocking the whole of your existence until your mind goes blank. "Such a good, obedient angelfish, giving me all of your sweet, succulent cum... all for me, yes?" Azul hums sweetly, teasingly. "Oh, this is so precious," he sighs, feeling the quaking and trembling of your fluttering walls. His expression melts into one of deep satisfaction and pride.

"There you go, my lovely angelfish. Just as I said I would," Azul croons. Without another word, his hand, wet with your desire, abandons its ministrations, pulling from your depths with a slick pop, leaving your empty cunt to tremble from his absence. Azul brings his fingers to his mouth for a lewd taste test, licking the juices from his hand as a self-indulgent smirk plays upon his lips. As he rolls the digits around his tongue, sampling the essence of your cunt, a sharp groan rumbles deep from within his chest, the vibration coursing down his spine and directly into his throbbing member. Even as his breath grows heavy from the feeling of his needy cock, the smug, triumphant smirk doesn't disappear. He enjoys the honeyed, tangy sweetness and savors the lingering sensation on his taste buds—another string attached, making it utterly impossible for him to let go. A low chuckle is heard from deep in his chest, dark and hauntingly mirthful. From his pleased sigh, you could easily read the insatiable hunger growing within his gleaming eyes—clearly the lust in his loins has only been ignited further—a starving, manic beast hungry for even more from your yielding form, an insatiable craving that can't be satiated so easily. His cock visibly twitches, begging for him to mount you and thrust his painfully aroused length as far as he can manage deep into your eager, spasming pussy. The aphrodisiac courses through his veins with all the potency of a tropical storm, whipping every nerve into a frenzy as the instinct takes hold in Azul's most primordial thoughts and drives all those cravings with an irrepressible urgency—he simply has to get your pregnant. Azul's cheeks flush with a reddish-pink shade as he fixates on you, the hunger in his gaze absolutely feral, filled with a single-minded lustful determination to breed you.

When your eyes meet his maddened, love-struck stare, you are overcome with the same desperation radiating from your womb, urging to be stuffed and claimed by his thick load. At last, the two of you had connected in this all-consuming fire—a conflagration of desire so severe and a love so encompassing that both of you could do nothing more than dance on the ashes and burn with the flames. In that moment of recognition, an irresistible, bewitching aura emanates from him and mesmerizes you as the air of mystery dissipates from his visage, the eroticized specter of the fearsome and dangerous, devious mogul melts away to reveal the raw intensity of the young man underneath, exposed in all his ardent, unfettered passions. Here stands Azul, naked with vulnerability, desiring only a love that no other has been able to truly give. He's always tried to prevent access to his real emotions, afraid of the kind of cruelty they would reap upon him if they were found. He didn't believe himself to be worthy of their regard, let alone capable of receiving someone's genuine affections. With you, though, there were none of his signature theatrics, no polite deflection, nor charming evasiveness; he gave you full permission to view him and all of his repressed feelings on full display. An open book, Azul trusts you enough to expose his heart fully, so transparent in his neediness. Since he brought you to his bedroom, there was never the slightest hint of deception in his tone—not once had he attempted to distract you, nor used a tactic or trick. Perhaps his true intentions for getting close to you were more admirable than you thought, his desperation to get close to you was merely just a pining for your love rather than a sordid trick. His earnest, loving gaze, combined with the grip of your desire, makes something finally shift within, like the turning of the tide—a sense that it was fated for you to fall and crash so desperately, madly, and completely for him—a long-awaited inevitability, just as he had already done for you long before this Alchemy accident. Azul was an adoringly gentle yet brutally powerful force, a pillar in your life you can lean into without hesitation. All of your fears, worries, and frustrations are suddenly null, evaporating into the thin air of Octavinelle, carried into the gentle waters outside the window and disappearing into the seas.

Nothing is more erotic than seeing his carefully maintained veneer crumbling before you and letting himself fall apart at the seams. No longer hiding his desires or his ambitions for you, Azul's lusty hunger has you excited, aroused, and turned on like never before. You return his lustful, hazy expression and Azul is drawn right into the softness of your inviting stare. Your mouth parts to allow a needy moan to pass as you buck your hips slightly, inviting him to finally claim your body as his, a beautiful sacrifice you're eager to make for a beautiful siren such as him. With a deep, lewd groan, Azul pushes off your trembling body, propping himself onto his knees and groping at your chest, making you mewl. There's no trace left of the smooth businessman persona, not even a hint of it lingers when his wet mouth kisses at your mounds and his large hands explore the contours of your curves, his fingertips desperately memorizing the way you're put together, tracing every bit of available flesh. His eager tongue swirls at your peaked nipples, moaning in appreciation and delight. Your mind is being swallowed by a bubbling wave of bliss that has no end as his hand trails across your hips, his touch is as gentle as a ripple in the water. With a shyly embarrassed flush and a sigh of wanton abandonment, you surrender entirely to him—letting the sea creature drown you in ecstasy, deeper and deeper, into the endless ocean. He caresses your stomach gently, the calloused pads of his fingers exploring the sensitive skin where he knows your womb lies. Your heart stumbles as his lips twist upward in an impish smirk at the thought of all the cum he's soon going to pump straight into the cavity. He palms your belly, which would soon carry his progeny as an inevitable result of this union, imagining his angelfish's stomach rounded and taut with his unborn child, perhaps, even more than once—Azul's thoughts are full of fantasies about filling you and fucking your pretty little womb over and over until he succeeds and you're blessed with his babies. Azul hums at the image of your pregnant body, worshiping the slope of your thighs and rubbing his hands up your waist and the undersides of your breasts. Azul knows that even if it doesn't work right away, he is more than prepared to breed you again and again as many times as necessary. He is more than certain you'll eventually give him a consortium of little octopus-human hybrids. After all, you'd offered yourself up in the end. Who was he not to take what was freely given?

He grasps the back of your knee to prop up your leg in the air, shifting closer. In one fell swoop, your tender thighs are flung open, revealing your glistening cunt. Azul moans, running the rough pad of his finger right up the slit of your lips. You're already a mess, his slick hand had not been able to satisfy your heat at all, it only created a further yearning deep within that could only be satisfied by his aching cock. Azul settles against the fronts of your thighs, letting the stiff heat of his bulging erection nestle against the dripping lips of your cunt, already poised and eager for insertion. The anticipation causes the two of you to tremble slightly at the intimacy, your lips wet and sticky as they run against the length, his cock drooling freely from the tip and leaking beads of sticky, precum fluid right across your folds. With one more affectionate, sweet peck against the corner of your lip, and another one right upon your forehead, Azul slowly glides inside. A shared cry of euphoria leaves your mouths simultaneously as Azul buries the full length of his throbbing cock into your sopping entrance, thrusting powerfully to hilt balls-deep. The pure, erotic rapture of finally consummating your love floods both of your veins. His dick is filling you in the most indescribable way and stretching your cunt so deliciously that stars appear behind your eyes. A glorious symphony of relief sings in your blood while his hard girth massages your innermost walls as though he were meant for no other—like he was perfectly made to be the puzzle piece filling your immaculate pussy. You both gasp sharply in unison as the sensation sends tremors down his shaft. Every vein, ridge, and inch of his length drags deeply with each thrust as he grinds you thoroughly, bringing your clits into tantric connection and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth in perfect time with the rocking motion. Each snap of his hip makes the two of you share a joyful sob as he pleasures you in the most divine manner.

A low and sinful groan passes through your lips as your hands grip him tighter, begging him to increase his momentum and pace. Azul's hands clutch you in a tight embrace, his chest to yours with every inch of his hardness fully embedded into your velvety passage, sending white-hot sparks of pleasure shooting to the deepest recesses of your innermost being, triggering the sudden rush of a climax that is starting to rise to its precipice. Azul groans as your juices run down his balls, pooling around his sack and providing more lubrication for his relentless drive inside of you. You clench and flutter around him, squeezing your inner walls with every desperate urge for friction and movement, drawing Azul's eye right up to yours in a lusty daze. His body is coiling for release, ready to cum, and there's a glitter of utter happiness in his expression. His lips quiver with desire and he smirks as he feels you clamping and spasming around his rock-hard dick, begging him to breed you like the little slut that he secretly knows you are, all while knowing deep down you'd get so unbelievably plump and swollen with his hatchlings, he'd hardly be able to move his tentacles with all the kids crawling over him.

It's more intense, and far more electrifying than the filthy fantasies that had invaded his sleep every lonely evening whenever he gave in to his insufferable yearning for you. He'd envisioned this, over and over—what it would feel like to make you orgasm, just how satisfying it would feel to cum with you at the same time, and how heavenly it would be to stretch your cunt so snugly—and yet, in this moment, it surpasses his imagination exponentially, eliciting a complete flood of sensual pleasure all throughout his senses. Not even his wildest wet dreams had prepared him for the heady intoxication and undeniable high he experiences with you—being passionately and physically intertwined, wrapped around the most sublime euphoria that was possible—a wave so dizzying that there's absolutely no going back to life without the other once your bodies have succumbed and reached that ultimate, highest peak.

When Azul hits the point of no-return, his legs start shaking as though his limbs were going to fall off. His fingers tangle roughly in your hair as he drags your mouth closer to meet his. With each heavy thrust, he swallows every moan that erupts from your throat. His movements become less coherent, rougher, and disjointed as the strength of your cunt's embrace pulses tightly around his shaft and urges him toward the edge. Suddenly, an intense wave of satisfaction takes hold and shoots to the tip of his cock, pulsating violently in need to release its seed. Azul can't help but groan loudly into your ear as he slams his cock into you with ferocious strength, fucking the life and soul right out of your being while a high-pitched scream accompanies the splash and squelching noises of your pussy. Your mouth has gone slack, jaw dropping as you cry out his name and climax with such power that it whips you into a complete frenzy of desperation, sending your vision dancing with lights. You quake and shiver under the force of his fervor and ecstasy, writhing on the mattress and throwing your head backward to soak in your overwhelming, toe-curling rapture. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pounding you fiercely as you wail and shatter with a rush of emotions so intense, you don't know if you will ever put yourself back together. A strained whine and a few sharp pumps later, a surge of hot, wet euphoric heat shoots from Azul's balls and spurts out in ribbons of his own spent climax as he spends his load of pearly cum directly into your waiting womb, splashing your tight channel with a continuous stream—painting every crevice of your silken, fluttering, vice-like depths a glossy white. Azul is unable to help himself as his hips start grinding into yours with slow rolls, fucking and stuffing every drop of his sticky cream deeply and ensuring it remains securely nestled in your folds. Every remaining bit of sexual tension floods out as though you'd been submerged in the most heavenly waterfall of pleasure imaginable. Azul whines weakly into the pillow and your moans join, eventually dissipating into a heavenly silence as you sink heavily back to reality.

Time slows to an almost stop and your vision gets a bit hazy and bleary as the aphrodisiac magic completely pulses away. You two lay side by side on the soft blankets, still in the bed and soaked with sweat. Neither of you move for quite some time. Just in the wake of your post-orgasm, everything becomes intensely surreal. You try to breathe quietly so Azul doesn't hear and as his head rests on your breasts. He, too, is heaving with difficulty, each inhale is a conscious decision. He clings tightly against you, hands threaded together like a lifeline, afraid to let go. One last sentence leaves his mouth—a whisper that could have easily been missed by anyone except for you. It was a question.

"Are we both in love?" Azul asks with such hesitance, you think maybe you've misheard his inquiry. He is lying right by your side. His face is dangerously close to yours, and the way his stormy, ocean azure eyes reflect every emotion swirling inside allows you to see the years of hurt that's plagued him. He's absolutely enchanted, like you are the perfect dream come true—everything he'd ever imagined in one living, breathing, precious human body—a lover so magnificent he could hardly comprehend. He studies your expression with awe and reverence. A look so intensely raw it burns right through your heart and lights up the space in your soul that you never before realized was reserved just for him. "Because I love you... Truly and deeply. So much that I don't know how it was possible, even," Azul admits freely, without the least hint of apprehension or nervousness. You can feel the intensity and honesty of his words radiate through his trembling fingertips, through the places where his naked skin touched yours—he doesn't try to mask the pure unadulterated warmth and delight that leaks through the shaky but firm expression on his flushed face.

A wide, cheerful and genuine grin breaks out against your features as you nod enthusiastically, and it is almost as though a heavenly, soothing light has poured over his entire world. It feels like a dream, a fairytale that is too good to be true. Yet here you both lie, doused in the magic of the concoction, clinging to each other and to that euphoric elation after giving in to the passions and the chemical bonds. It felt incredible, it felt natural and familiar and right. This wasn't anything artificial, rather the long overdue acknowledgement of feelings that were there all along—a kindling of romance that was never forced, but rather fanned to life after many days spent as Alchemy partners. After seeing each other every day, getting to know each other's quirks, and learning of each other's daily habits, the intimacy had bloomed and nurtured into something tender and real. The closeness the potion provided simply allowed the two of you the confidence needed to step across a boundary and pursue things.

"This won't be something short lived... you understand what I am saying, yes?" His tone has a tinge of fear creeping in and you can't help but stroke the outline of his cheekbones. This feeling will not end with a simple fuck, you knew that deep in the marrow. There will be more of that to come. In fact, the thought of it has your cunt pulsing, your sex aching at the idea. "I simply won't have you anywhere else but with me, and here in my dorm. I just won't be able to be happy otherwise..." Azul's voice quivers as the vulnerable sincerity flows.

"Yes, Azul. Yes, I understand and I feel the exact same," you chuckle and cradle his head. His blue eyes crinkle slightly from the beam across his lips, and Azul can't resist pulling you in for a feverish kiss, groaning from the rush. That familiar, sinfully blissful high is starting to take hold again, the rush of the aphrodisiac stirring something fiery back into a pleasant burn. The chemical’s grip on the two of you continues. After all, nothing will stop the magic from bringing you closer together. He murmurs a seductive promise into the curve of your throat that he won't stop until his load drips and slides right out of your swollen cunt—he's going to breed you the rest of the night and spill as much of himself deep within as he can. He has no doubt you're going to give him a child that will cement this loving bond permanently.

Listen I don't know HOW this HAPPENED, I DON'T understand how I wrote this much. I am DELIRIOUS and I need to go pick up some pizza for dinner, so I wish I could say more here but I can't right now. I'll update this part when I get back home. I just needed to get this out into the UNIVERSE. THANK YOU ALL!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! <3333 Erica Malleleothreesome

[yuwuta]

EAT MY WORDS, AND THEN SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE DOWN — OKKOTSU, INUMAKI

cw: choking, spit (mentioned), threesome, established relationship

Yuuta doesn’t like to share. He’s usually all or nothing, but there’s something about you and Toge that makes you both the exception to his rule. 

Maybe it’s knowing that somehow he’s found a way to have his cake and eat it, too. That he can have both of you, that you’re both his and nobody else’s, and it grants him the privilege of knowing nobody else can take either one of you away from him. 

Except for each other, but Yuuta doesn’t quite mind that. He likes watching you two have each other, likes watching Inumaki tease you while you’re kissing, because he’s messy, flashes of your tongue while he sucks on it, whiny, desperate grinding of your hips against each other that are a clear ploy to hear you whine and plead, and it works every single time. Yuuta laughs a little from where he stands in the doorway to the bathroom, ruffling a towel through his damp hair and admiring how desperate you look when Toge’s hand creeps up your neck to keep you still, the perimeter of your lips slick with spit and you gasping for air and more and more and more and—“Toge, please.” 

But Toge likes to tease, and he knows that Yuuta likes to watch, and that you can take it, so he squeezes another moan out of you before kissing your nose, then your cheeks, then your neck, all open mouth and teeth and tongue. He groans between kisses, feeds off of your whining and flimsy attempts to grab at his shirt, and bites your lip a little too hard to use the distraction to push you back against the mattress. 

Yuuta finds himself blushing when Toge is on top of you, grinding his hips down to watch your squirm, steadying your writhing with a tight grip on your jaw. He can tell it hurts a little, but you can take more—he’s seen you take more, he’s seen Toge give you more, so when he uses his other hand to press his thumb against your tongue and flatten it down, Yuuta gasps along with you. 

Toge is the one who giggles now—and audible laugh that ghosts across your tongue before he licks against yours. It’s followed by a searing kiss, moving his thumb from your mouth to your cheek in loving contrast to his biting kisses. He releases his hold on your neck for just a second, just enough to let you gasp deeply for air, before it’s back, before you’re gasping again and with strained moans, and desperate, desperate hands pawing at Toge. 

“This is certainly fun to watch,” Yuuta slings the hand towel around his neck, rounding the bed as Toge sucks at your skin and gropes your tits, and your eyes screw shut at his mercy. Toge smiles against your collar when Yuuta sits on the edge of the bed next to him, pulls back and swipes his thumb across your swollen lips with wicked intent. “But now you’re just being mean.”

Inumaki merely shrugs, sitting up over your hips and turning to Yuuta, whose eyes flicker between Toge’s and yours, then to your lips, and his hand on your neck, and back to your face. He’d only caught the last few minutes of Toge’s torture, but from the state of your heaving chest, and the amount of bruises on your neck, and size of your pupils, he’d imagined that Toge had been toying with you from the moment he’d stepped into the shower. 

Yuuta grins at the thought. You let Toge get away with too much. You must like seeing him get drunk on you, too; Yuuta can’t fault you for that. 

“Hi, angel,” Yuuta reaches a hand out to cradle your face, a gentle hold that you easily lean into, “Toge being mean to you?” 

Your eyes go wide, fluttering between both boys hovering over you. There’s no right answer, but there might be a wrong one. When your eyes land on Toge again, he’s got his head cocked to the side, a single eyebrow raised, and then quietly, without room for argument he commands, “Answer him.” 

“No—no,” you gasp, immediately turning to look back at Yuuta, who smiles down at you, “I just... want more.” 

Yuuta’s thumb strokes across your cheek, then your bottom lip, until he can slide it into your mouth. He’s been told that his eyes can be intense, and it used to make him insecure, but there’s newfound confidence in the way it makes you and Toge pliant under his gaze. 

“You’ve got her wrapped around your finger, don’t you?” Yuuta muses when you suck on his finger, turning his head, brushing his nose against Toge before leaning into a kiss, “Poor thing.” 

They make a show of kissing each other just to tease you. Toge angles himself towards Yuuta, but makes sure to buck his hips against you to have you straining underneath him, too. The more they lick into each other’s mouths, the heavier Yuuta’s thumb presses against your tongue and you’re left gagging when Toge’s hand leaves your neck to cup Yuuta’s jaw and sucks on his tongue. 

Spit drips down their chins, filthy and wet and too much and not enough. You bend your arms to lean up against your elbows, moaning frustratedly, Yuuta’s fingers messily trailing with you. He can tell that you want to touch them, kiss them, be between them. But Toge is quick to drop a hand from his face, doesn’t even have to look your way to wrap it around your neck with practiced ease and force your back to be flush with the mattress again. 

Yuuta groans, slowly pulling away from Toge when you whine for him. And Yuuta is weak to you, so when he sees your debauched face, he can only coo, lean down and give you a careful, chaste kiss, smearing the spit across your lips when he pulls away. 

“Sorry, angel,” he apologizes, giving you another quick kiss, “Come here.” 

He helps you to sit up, back against the headboard, and Toge kneeling in front of you. Yuuta cards a hand through his hair, pulling him closer to you, not without warning, “Be nice,” before pushing him to kiss you. 

“That’s it,” Yuuta muses, sighing when you both fall into each other’s hold again, “Be good to each other.” 

It’s only Yuuta that gets to see you two like this, only him that gets to share these moments. He’ll let you belong to each other, just as long as you know you’re his, too.

[chososdiscordkitten]

Kneel.

Synopsis: pt 2 of this fic ^-^

Pairing: Priest!Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, not as much church stuff as the last one, lots of flirting, breaking church vows, nanami trying to justify his actions as permissible, lots of pleading to his god, hand stuff, rough (?) sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms

Taglist: @eliuriastwo @ingojo

MDNI

It plagued him. The severe tension ran thick every single Sunday after mass. Where you would sit in his office chair- this look of smugness on your expression with the corner of your lip curled as though you were aware of the torment you were inflicting onto him. 

Insinuating conversations of the carnal sins you would confess to—barely even sins— just thoughts that plagued your mind unwillingly. 

Middle of the third time he saw you- the way your eyes dared to sparkle as you confessed the so called disgusting thoughts to him. His mind started putting the pieces together. 

“Cold showers aren’t working anymore, Father. I had to. I had to rid myself of the hellfire that burned in me.” Your lips bordered on smiling as you watched the Father lower his gaze. 

He didn’t know when, but his index and thumb had started toying with the little fly of his zipper, flipping it up and down—something to keep his hands busy as you spoke. 

“I know that must be a sin, isnt it father?” you placed your hands between your knees, leaning over in the slightest and exposing even more of the crevice of your chest to him. His eyes tried to avoid the tempting ploy. 

Little wired glasses on the bridge of Nanami’s nose as his eyes betrayed him- Unwillingly, they flashed down to your breasts, catching himself and looking back up to your face. 

You raised your eyebrows in the slightest, as though you had caught on to his urge to look. 

Nanami cleared his throat, pulling off the little glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Bible- says it is, yes. Against the sixth commandment-” Looking back to your expression that seemed even more unbothered than before. 

“If it is a sin,” you whispered, pinching your eyebrows in question of the Father’s faith. “Then why does it help?” 

Nanami cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time in those 30 minutes. “God made us sexual creatures,” he mumbled, trying to make it sound as business-like as he could. 

You let out a little giggle- something that sounded like a siren trying to lure him into a trap. “Then god made me too sexual.”

Nanami inhaled- taking a little swipe at his lip with the tip of his dry tongue, parting his lips and averting his gaze. “How…” he inhaled sharply, “How did it feel?” barely legible, but the words deepened your smirk into something crueler.

A sigh of contentment left your lips, “As though I had chipped away at the temptation in the slightest.” you took a deep inhale- the skin of your chest pressing against the edge of your low cut top and daring to spill. 

“It felt so good, Father. Freeing almost.” You continued, seeing Nanami’s blush spread through his cheeks down his neck in the slightest. 

The thought of how freeing it would feel had he acted as callously as you did in your own desires made the Father realize he needed a freezing shower by the time he went home. He couldn’t give in as quickly as you did. 

His hand halted the little flipping movement on his zipper. Gulping in the slightest and leaning back into his chair- “And your prayers… didn’t help?” trying to change the daring topic he had brought on. 

“If I could be honest, father?” you sat up, pushing your shoulders back and lightly tilting your neck. Collarbones exposed to his nervous eyes with that same self-satisfied smile on your painted lips. 

“Please, be honest.” 

“I think my prayers have caused the opposite effect.” 

Nanami nodded softly, thinking up something else to offer you besides the strained words he practically forced himself to say. 

“Maybe a place in the community?” he asks, thinking that if you and he try to debrief these issues, you’ll get nowhere but a very frustrated priest who just wants to ‘help’. 

He inhaled sharply, opening a little drawer in his desk and reaching for a flier, “Next Sunday, we’re having an Easter event for the children- you could find your place in our community.” 

Placing the little flier onto the wood in front of you, your eyes scanning the colorful sheet with a half cocked smile. “Help serve the food, or just stay for a while. You’re welcome to it.” 

And the following Sunday, you showed up bright and early, sitting through Easter Sunday mass. Noticing that, compared to other times, the Father wore a black short-sleeved dress shirt this time. 

He excused it because he knew it would be hot that day and was getting ahead of an issue before it arose. 

“Excuse me for being so indecent today,” he joked in front of the congregation before continuing his sermon. 

But the little flexes of Nanami’s bicep strained against the tight sleeve of the shirt when he grasped the side of the podium. Or how, with every inhale, his plentiful chest would press against the buttons of the black shirt in strain. 

It made that Sunday even more special. His arms were exposed, and how that shirt was at least a size too small for the man. Tempting. It made you wonder if it was you trying to lure in the tortured man or the other way around. 

And when the service ended- a few stolen glances and raised brows at the stumbling of his words before all the church people gathered at the back of the building. A patch of grass and a few tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths. 

You did as he asked, served the children and the churchgoers food and waited for them to start their hunt for plastic eggs. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed; the Father would look over every now and then to see you happily serving the people of the church. Glad to see you enjoying yourself.

As though his attempt to help you was finally working- maybe all you needed was community and congregation to rid yourself of the shameless confessions you’ve made in his office. 

But you- now standing on one end of the grass patch, derived from any sort of community the Father thought you were participating in. 

Though it didn’t bother you, making friends with bitter church women was neither your task nor the conquest you sought. 

But when your eyes caught the Father excusing himself from a few people of his parish- dashing into the church’s back entrance- you chose to follow. 

Placing the little cup of lemonade onto the table before walking past the doors the Father had dashed past. Following him to the little cracked door of his office, hearing the light shuffling of papers. 

You knocked twice- pushing the door open to see the Father jump at the sudden noise and the sight of you at his doorstep. 

“You haven’t said a word to me, Father.” you thrummed, stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. Be it the general conquest or how delectable he looked in that tight short sleeve, you wanted to push even further this time. 

He let out a little sigh with a smile, “You’ll have to excuse me- today has been very laboring.” his brows furrowed with stern eyes looking for the pages he swore he left at the very top of a stack of paper. 

“Anything I could do to help?” taking on a sweet tone as you stepped closer to him. 

Nanami let out a little laugh, almost in disbelief. “You’ve done more than enough to help today,” he said, his shoulders stiff from your presence standing at his side. 

“I couldn’t ask for more,” he whispered, feeling your eyes pierce through him as he moved the stack of papers- the cotton around his bicep suffering from the flex of his arms. 

Looking down at his hands. Spreading the papers, tantalizing thick fingers with a prominent vein standing proud at the top of his hand. Swallowing lightly at the image in your mind. 

“I want to help, Father. Tell me how I can assist you.” reaching down to the top of his hand and placing yours atop his- halting its movements and causing Nanami to look over at you as though you were deranged. 

Nanami parted his lips- derailing his train of thought entirely from the seemingly innocent touch. “What are you looking for?” you murmured, lightly caressing your thumb against his skin. 

The first thing that popped into his mind was nowhere near priestly or godly. But he gathered his thoughts and mustered the words. 

“The choir-” he inhaled a choked breath, “They need the lyrics for the service on Wednesday,” he whispered, looking at your low eyes with your hand still atop his. 

“Your parish made you leave an event to look for song lyrics?” you teased- as though that was some lame excuse he made up on the spot. 

Nanami let out a little laugh, pulling his hand from beneath yours and going back to looking for the pages again. “I know,” he mumbled, but you weren’t quite done urging you to be there to help. 

You placed your hand over his again, looking at him with all the earnesty you could muster. “You are such a good priest, father.” picking up his hand from the desk and holding it in both of yours. “If you need help-” and there went the corner of your lip curling with sadistic intent. 

“You can ask for it.” you assured, caressing his hand lightly as his lips parted with an inhale, “You can ask me for it.”

His heart was pounding in his chest—the words themselves weren’t filthy. Were they spoken by anyone else, it would’ve been heard as a simple offer.

But the honey soaked in the way you said it- the sparkle in your eye and the tenderness in which you held his hand. Nanami knew you were not offering an innocent way of assisting him. 

Nanami felt it in his gut. It made his mind fuzzy- made him unable to think coherently. 

It made him forget the white collar around his neck, the years he had spent as a priest and at the center of a church, and his vows—and for the first time in a very long time, his mind wasn’t judging the thoughts that raced inside of it. 

You took a step closer to him—just one step and your chest was mere inches from his. His eyes flashed from your half-lidded ones down to your plush lips. You could feel the little tremble in his palm between your hands.

“I-” he started with an exhale, being able to breathe in the sickeningly sweet aroma of your skin. How it whirred in his mind should’ve been a sin in itself. 

You tightened your grip on his hand, whispering a sweet, “Do you need help, Father?” watching his adam’s apple bob past the white collar around his neck and blinks become hazy. 

The hand atop trailed up his forearm with a ghostly touch, feeling the light goosebumps rise beneath your fingertips. 

It wasn’t till he saw your gaze turn dark- that’s when it clicked in the Father’s mind. That’s when the pieces came together. 

You weren’t some lamb in desperate need of guidance; you weren’t innocent of the invading thoughts that the devil tried to tempt you with. 

‘You were put before me as a test.’ was the one clear thought that broke through the mist in his mind as he looked at you. 

And what he feared most—Nanami knew that if you had continued offering your assistance, he would have failed this test put before him by his cruel god.

Only the sound of a harsh knock startled him from the invading thoughts of what he could do to you in that room—or what you would have done to him had nobody interrupted. 

A parish member cracked the door open- “Father, have you found the-” halting their entry as they looked at the sight before them. Furrowing their eyebrows before Nanami cleared his throat- pulling his hand from yours again. 

“I’m afraid I’ve lost them entirely- I’ll reprint them tomorrow morning.” his tone stern and clear as the parish member nodded- unsure of Nanami’s words as you stood there. 

You flashed a small smile at the parish member- “Father, the deaconess is looking for you.” they continued. 

Only you crossed your arms beneath your breasts and rested back onto the edge of the Father’s desk- too smug for what they had just witnessed. 

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Hesitatingly, the parish member closed the door and left. Leaving you and the Father in a devastatingly thick with tension room. You placed a hand onto his upper bicep- the same bicep that had been tempting you for the entire service. 

“I’m available anytime you need me, Father,” you whispered before you left the troubled man alone in the room. Your touch lingering on his bare skin as he placed his hands flat onto the surface of the desk. 

The very same desk he was picturing you bent over in his mind a mere few seconds ago.  

His hands were clammy against the surface, an ache rowling in his tummy as he closed his eyes and tried shaking away the thoughts of your breasts daring to spill from the low cut neckline of your dress. 

Or how tight the fabric looked pressed against your hips when you walked away from him. 

In the end Nanami was still a man with eyes- not even a priest could control their wandering gaze. 

He wanted to tell you- he needed to say to you that he couldn’t help you anymore. That little arrangement after Sunday mass, where you would lure him in with descriptions of the proclivities taking place late at night, couldn’t happen anymore. 

Nanami was sure that the next time he saw you, he would tell you to get out of his church and find someone better suited to your troubles. 

Yet he sat there again, twiddling his thumbs to avoid the urge to reach for his zipper. 

A week of cold showers were, as you said- they didn’t fucking help. On mornings when Nanami would wake up with urge bursting from his boxers or by just remembering the sweet tinge the air had once you left- the appendage between his legs would twitch in betrayal. 

The realization that you were a test made him even more intrigued, as though it pushed him further into your clutches. He was desperate to know if he would succeed in this test his god put before him. 

And sitting in that chair, hearing you speak of the filth that raged in your mind without shame. 

A feigned chime of disappointment in yourself when you fell back into the temptation again, but this time, Nanami saw it was false. That the slight curl your lips had wasn’t a defense mechanism; you found humor in the trouble inflicted on him. 

As though you could smell the fear in his very soul from the chance of succeeding in enticing him. 

And yet, Nanami still sat there listening. A masochistic churn in his brain had him listen to every temptation. 

“You’ve never felt this way, Father?” you whirred, the amused look in your eyes masked by the fanning of your lashes. “As though you started something you couldn’t stop doing?”

Yes, he did know the feeling. He knew once he met you he wouldn’t have been able to stop seeing you- speaking to you. Even if you were trying to bewitch him, he knew in his mind he wouldn’t be able to stop saying yes to your requests for these sessions. 

“Has it helped?” He murmured, straightening his back and interlocking his hands. 

You let out a little giggle, “If anything- it hasn’t. But I can't stop.” taking a little nibble at your bottom lip, “It makes me crave more.” That was the sentence that made Nanami look at you more dangerously than before- 

Now, Nanami knew you needed more, and you didn’t care to stop the urges. 

Keeping a low tone, “I yearn for more.” you spoke- clearly so he could hear. Nanami gulped, tingles rushing into his cheeks making his brain nervous. “For the warmth of another person.” 

Nanami had to bite his tongue- pretend he heard your thoughts as a church priest and not as a man. 

“I’m sure you’ve never felt this way Father. You’re an extraordinary priest- It must be jarring to hear my inner monologue.” You spoke softly, so sure he would agree.

Nanami inhaled, “Not at all. Life as a priest is very lonely.” he smiled, his mouth dry at the words that dared rumble in his mind. “I’ve found myself craving the warmth of another person before. It’s normal.” 

Except it fucking wasnt- not for a man with as much ressolve as he did. Not once in those ten years of being in the priesthood did he find himself craving warmth to surround and twitch around him as badly as he did now. Especially now. 

And when the time came to walk you out of his office, you stood at his desk. 

He took the place next to you in the very spot he pictured you bent over in before. Standing the very same way you were the last Sunday you were in his office. 

Only this time- there was no chatter outside his window from the event. In that church it was only you and him. 

And as though you knew, you looked into his eyes, testing the space between you, leaning in mere millimeters at a time. 

And the Father, tormented by the choice of stepping back or falling into the temptation you had to offer. Your lips parted as you gazed into Nanami’s eyes, his jittery and nervous pupils trying to figure out if you were getting closer or if he was just crazed enough to picture it.

“Can you help me, Father?” you whispered, raising your hand to his bicep and touching it lightly. 

His lips were agape- inhaling as much air into his dry mouth as he thought of the words to say. The only ones he could process; “How?” 

Your nose no more than an inch from his- you inhaled, a fire burning in your tummy and pooling between your legs at his dissolve. “Touch me.” was all you could whisper before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth. The warmth of a human he had craved for days now pressed against his lips made his shoulders shiver. Raising his hands from his side and placing one as lightly at the side of your neck. The other lacing behind your back and pressing against the little curve above your bottom. 

His lips took a gentle approach- slotting them with care against yours as his hands urged you to rest on the edge of his desk. 

Burning in his loins was an ache- an ache that grew with the haste he made in slipping his tongue past his lips and against yours. Leaving behind any last reservation he had to stop this before it went too far. 

Whispers of groans took form of small whimpers as your hands dragged down his torso and guided his hips to rest between your thighs. Never did he appreciate how good this felt before- the feeling of tongues slathering against each other and being able to taste you on his tongue. 

Never in his days before becoming a priest did he appreciate the feeling of warm plush skin beneath his hands, the hand on the small of your back lowering to the clothed swell of your ass and taking a desperate grip. 

The one on your neck lowering to your chest- cupping his hand on the side of your rib with his thumb curled at the bottom of your breast. 

Nanami knew that he could come undone from just this- no stimulation to the leaking with excitement mess in his black slacks, just his hands full of plentiful skin and his lips busy with feeling the muscle of your tongue swirl against his. 

But your hands roamed down to the buckle of his belt, being able to feel his ache press against your thigh. Nanami pulled his lips from yours begrudgingly- “I can’t-” he breathed, slowing your moving hands and hearing his plea. 

“I can’t.” he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows; only one of your hands reached up to his neck, pulling his head onto your shoulder with your lips at the perfect angle of his ear. 

“You are a good priest,” you whispered, placing a light kiss on his cartilage and continuing your other hand in slowly unbuckling his belt. The tips of your fingers softly grazing the short blonde hair of his undercut. His hands went unmoved from your clothed skin as he fought the mental battle. 

You placed another soft kiss on his warmed ear, “Tell me how long it’s been since you rid yourself of the poison, Father.” you whispered, undoing the button of his slacks slowly as his breath grazed against your collarbone. 

“Far too long.”

You licked your lips at the image of how much seed he’ll spurt- undoing his zipper at an agonizing pace, “Tell me to stop and I will.” you murmured, your breath tickling his ear as your hand rested on his hip. Waiting for his permission. 

Nanami swallowed harshly; his hands had a bruising hold on your skin as you offered what he yearned for on a silver platter. 

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.

A little exhale with a giggle grazed Nanami’s ear, “I need to hear you say it.” you whispered, the hand on your button roaming down the side of your thigh and grazing the hem of the skirt you wore. 

“Please touch me.” he whispered- your hand trailed to the band of his briefs, his breathing hitching against your skin with a mean grip formed on your thigh. 

The gasp that left his lips bordered on a whimper as your fingers dipped into his briefs, being able to feel how hard he was immediately. Wasting no time in pulling out his strained desire as he held you closer, bracing for what he had asked for. 

Taking a light hand as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft- heavy and hot in your palm as he inhaled sharply. “You are a good man, Father,” you whispered, starting slow strokes at his crying cock. 

“You deserve to be helped,” 

“To be touched.”

His strained cock threatened to release his mess right then and there- the scent of you filling his nose with the slow strokes of your wrist, added with your assuring words; Nanami swore he was about to. 

But your hand didn’t let him, cutting your strokes short right before you could roll over his cockhead. Opening your mouth and placing your lips onto his neck, lightly lapping at the skin- his groans deepening in response.

Pulling his forehead from your shoulder, pressing his lips onto yours again in urge- Nanami wanted to do as you had asked. He wanted to touch you. But his hands couldn’t focus on anything other than groping at whatever body part he could find. 

His lips moving in unpatterned movements against yours- speeding up the pace of your hand and feeling his groans rumble onto your lips. Your eyes half-lidded and watching the little sheen of sweat form at his blonded hairline. 

Amused at how worked up he was from a few strokes- but your hand isn’t moving fast enough for him. Nanami started bucking his hips into your hand with urge. His balls clenched as he felt the estranged feeling of an orgasm build. 

His nose huffed out strained breaths as his kisses became sloppy, tightening the grip of your hand and watching his brows pinch together. Pulling his lips from you and letting out a drawn out groan. 

Nanami’s hips stuttering as his orgasm rolled over him in hot waves. Oozes of his seed coating your fingers with every thrust he made. And it was so fucking much- it made you regret not hiking your skirt up and taking it inside wether than on your hand.

His breathing was coarse as your wrist assisted in riding him down, kissing softly at your exposed collarbone as his still-hard cock pulsed in your hand. Making you wonder just how backed up he really was. 

As though his hand heard your thoughts, they reached down to the hem of your skirt and started hiking it up. You looked into his eyes—dark and full of want, with a goal shimmering in them. 

Smiling softly, “Father-” you teased, feeling his strong hands grip your bare thighs before roaming back to the little zipper of your top and undoing it slowly, wasting no time in unclasping the band of your bra along with it. 

Pulling back and looking at you- bare and as he had pictured you. 

Nanami didn’t have a thought in his mind- completely mush and with only one goal in mind. Guiding you to lay back on the desk, his hands roaming down to your thighs- being able to see the growing dark spot of your lace panties. 

Your skirt bunched up at your hips as he reached a hand up to his collar. Pulling it off and closing his eyes with a small exhale. Undoing the top button of his black dress shirt and feeling his cock pulse. 

His lips moved in a soft whisper- almost in a prayer. But his hands trailing to the damp center of your lacy panties told you that prayer isn’t working. 

Nanami didn’t pray for the strength to stop- he didn’t want to. He started the prayer of forgiveness knowing that he didn’t want to stop. Some kind of assurance that the sooner he started begging for forgiveness, he would be pardoned. 

A soft gasp left your lips as he traced his middle and index finger up your damp cunt. Looking at the enticing sight with his mouth watering, lightly circling the tips of his fingers onto your perched clit as you hummed. 

His other hand going to his cock- pained and daring to run red from the neglect. You bit your lip softly at the sight, his hair disheveled and an unashamed blush on his cheeks. 

Stopping his prayer and looking at the painting hung on the wall in front of him- a saint looking at him in disgust. He waited a second- as though he was waiting for the voice of his god to come thundering down.

But it didn’t- “Forgive me.” he muttered, placing his fat cock onto your slit. His heavy shaft resting against your clit with a little sigh. 

Bucking his hips with soft grunts as your warmth radiated on the underside of his cock. Frotting his cock against you- another way of justifying his sinning. He wasn’t actually fucking you- so it didnt count right?

But every whimper and moan your lips would make, added with the feeling of his heavy cockhead bumping against your clit made it fucking tempting. As fast as the first orgasm build in his tummy- the second one came even quicker.

And he knew he could hold it- no matter how many thrusts his cock brushed against your cunt with vulgar squelches- Nanami was determined to wait.

But the smile on your lips at the lack of resolve curled into a wicked smile: “Put it inside—please, Kento.” The one time you had said his name—what kind of man was Nanami to deny you such a request?

He pulled his cock from your slick with various strings of your arousal as he angled his tip with your entrance. 

Nanami’s face was troubled, as though he was still hesitating. “Just the tip,” you whispered, smugly knowing he barely had the resolve to hesitate. He would listen to you. 

He gulped with a little grunt, placing his tip at your slick entrance and gasping at the sheer warmth. You hummed lightly when his hips finally pushed in the slightest, pushing past the seal of your cunt with a moan soaked with bliss. 

Unable to remember when he felt such pleasure that made him want to say thank you. 

And as though your cunt was trying to suck him in- his hips didnt stop, “I’m sorry.” he whispered, sinking himself into you and planting a hand onto the wooden desk, allowing himself to lean over on top of you with a drawn out moan. 

You let out a light hiss at the sting of his girth- placing your hands on his back and holding onto him as he stayed still. 

His shoulders trembling and his hips urgent in moving. Even if it was you who was making him go mad- Nanami still had the decency to allow you time to adjust. 

Your breasts pressed against his chest as you waited for his hips to start moving. But he didnt want to, as though having his cock inside of you was still permissable, but the movement of fucking you wouldn’t be. 

“Move-” you hummed, hands braced against the back of his dress shirt with your velvet walls twitching around him- pleading at the Father to give you what you wanted. 

Nanami only let out a shaky breath- “I can’t,” similar to a little sob but laced with a grunt. Your lips pressed against his temple, brushing them against his ear with a smile. 

“Give me what I want.” Whispered and invaded his ear as his grip on the desk turning his knuckles white. “I want this Kento-” you whined, trying to convince him to move- to fuck you like you knew he could. 

“I want you.” 

Nanami groaned at the little clench your walls made around him- “I can feel you trembling-” kissing his ear with a little damp spot left in wake. “Just pull out of me- then push back in.” feeling his hips follow your guidance as though you controlled them.

He whimpered in a breath at the sensation, “Doesn’t that feel good?” you hummed, digging your fingers into his back in the slightest. 

And it did- it felt like heaven on earth for Nanami. And as though he couldn’t control it- he did it again. As slowly as he could, with his tip brushing your gspot on every drag of his cock. And every slow thrust he made- grinding his pelvis against your clit from how deep he was pushing himself in. 

You only whimpered at the slow thrusts- being able to feel the hesitance in the pushes Nanami made. 

One side of him kept the appearance of being kind, making sure to make this about you, whereas the other side of him was yelling at him, pleading with him to speed up- faster and faster. 

Fuck into you as you had been begging him to from the moment you first walked into his church. 

You laced your lips with his again. Had his hands had any more strength, they would have cracked the wood of the desk from how desperately he was gripping. 

Barely able to withstand the sluggish strokes he made- as slow as you had instructed him to. But you pulled your lips from his, want and demand in your eyes as he looked at you- completely broken down and yours in that moment. 

“Fuck me-” you whimpered, watching the urge to make this about you dissipate behind his eyes. 

With one drag of his cock- he jabbed back into you. And again and again- rougher and with intent as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

Nanami didn’t even know what words spilled from his lips- laced with grunts and the crude plapping of his heavy, full balls slapping against your ass. Pleads for nothing in particular- ‘Please, please-’ 

Apologies muttered into your ear for having his way with you, ‘I’m sorry- m’sorry.’

“I have to- I have to-” muttered between his grunts as a mantra to keep him sane.

His frustrations with the chaos you caused in his mind aided in drilling into you with mean thrusts- your whimpers full of content and moans littered with one more request of him- “More.”

And he gave you as much as he had- Nanami had given himself up to you entirely and was fucking glad to do it. His tortured mind had metamorphosed into pure bliss, with his body buzzing in sheer excitement for his second orgasm. 

Grunts with one question- “Can I-” barely legible and laced with the sounds of vile squelching coming from where you linked with him. “Inside,” huffed in the same breath as a groan. 

You huffed a happy exhale- glad he wanted to spill himself inside of you. 

“F-fill m-” was all you managed before he took on a rougher pace- pounding into you as though he was made for it. His skin burned beneath the black clothing and pressing his lips onto yours again. Barely able to kiss you- pearly teeth clashing against yours at every turn of his head. 

The joint groan that left you both when he halted his thrusts- burrowed deep inside of you as your walls clenched around him. Shallow pumps were all he gave before searing, thick seed spilled inside of you. 

Shakingly breathing against your lips as he eased down the pinnacle of his second orgasm. Thinking the realization of what he had done would hit him like thunderous fear- but it didn’t. 

In the moment of the afterglow bliss, Nanami didn’t care what happened after this. He knew in his marrow that this was worth it—you were worth it. 

Even if he had failed the test sent down by his god, Nanami knew he would never have found anything or anyone that gave him half as much serenity. 

Not in the years he had spent in the priesthood did he find half as much peace as he did now. Balls deep in the coated walls of your cunt in the office meant for a godly man. 

That’s what peace was to Nanami at that moment. 

-

(a.n) this was very hot to write ^-^

[qinluna]

consider an au where sylus is still a powerful figure and the unnamed ruler of onichynus but also a single father to young twin boys, kieran and luke.

he hesitates at first at the idea of taking in two children who were stranded in the n109 zone, debating on whether or not this was just another ploy of one of his many enemies. yet, with how beat down and shaken they were in that alley... that weary heart of gold spoke to him after his keen senses assured this was a matter that involved nothing but sympathy.

gaining their trust was a challenge, more so than when he first realized the power he wielded and how to use it to his advantage. but over time, his heart stirred knowing that he had an additional purpose to his life. if ruling onichynus and being the fearsome figure his stomping grounds saw him as would do him this good in being able to protect them, he would continue to do so.

then in comes you — the one he has been looking over for time now, the one who shares the unique prowess of holding an aether core in your body. the both of you are alike in many ways, only that you've yet to realize your true potential and wield your evol properly.

the resentment and hesitation you feel towards being able to trust sylus is mediated in a smoother manner, when you're introduced to the two young souls under sylus' care. while in other situations you would take advantage of this vulnerability to bargain intel, your keen assessment of the bond sylus has with his sons is genuine and true.

in kieran and luke's perspective, upon warming up to your presence and noticing the fond look in their father's eyes when he gazes at you... they wouldn't mind trying to play matchmaker. they wouldn't mind if you decided to stay around, to accompany sylus and them for the rest of their days.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Smile for Me

Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snowx First Lady!Reader

Synopsis: With your family involved with the politics of Panem, it was expected of Coriolanus to make you the First Lady. Only, he cannot return your affections as he long gave up on such pursuits and only wanted a loveless marriage, until he had to listen to you make a stand for your beloved fabric.

Warning: arranged marriage, angst, unrequited love, mentions of sex

Word Count: 1653

Coriolanus Snow swore to himself to never make the same mistake as to fall in love again.  The last time he tried, he had come undone, almost destroying himself while doing it, almost sacrificing what could have been his.

Still, a President needs a First Lady.

You come from a family with deep roots embedded in the politics of Panem.  One could call you a political dynasty, but nobody ever pays it any mind, at least inside the Capitol.  You are so good to your people, always putting the Capitol first above anything else.

When Coriolanus asked for your hand in marriage, your family and all of Capitol were simply elated.

But marriage with Coriolanus was not the fairytale you thought it would be.

He was not unkind.  But he was never warm with you either.  He tends to sleep on his side of the bed, his back turned to you.

But you never really gave up on him.  You wanted the marriage to work, even if he cannot offer his heart to you.

Coriolanus lets you join him for breakfast, nodding to your narration of your shopping escapades, shyly smiling at him, thanking him for paying for all the bags he let you buy. 

You would butter his bread for him, pour him his tea as you tell him that you are planning to take cooking lessons so you can cook for him one day, especially when you are to have children.

There were times in which you would bother him in his office, bringing him his lunch that you oh so carefully packed in your pretty woven basket.  You would show up in your long flowy dresses that he liked to see.  It made you look like a real spouse and not just the Capitol socialite that cling to his arm during parties.

When you become intimate, you never let your lips touch.  You are always faced with such great disappointment.  He always pleases you good but there is nothing intimate about what you do. 

You cannot forget how he pushed you off like you burned him when you kissed his lips as you chased your carnal rapture.  His eyes were hard when he glared at you, a thousand of unspoken words being lashed at you with that single look. 

With shaking hands and a crumbling heart, you pull the blanket up to your chest to keep your modesty while he stalks off to a table in the corner of your room in the nude to gulp a glass of whiskey.

He never spoke nor looked at you for days after that.

You have come to understand that the marriage was just an agreement between Coriolanus Snow and your father, another ploy of your family to take power in Panem. 

You would not let them.

Coriolanus noticed how no more stories filled the warm morning air of your dining area upon breakfast.  Still, you offer him smiles when you do decide to talk.

Loving you is not and never was in the plan of your husband, you accept that now.  Still, you take care of him as you know that in his own way, he looks after you.

Your card is never empty no matter how mad your shopping spree was the day before.  The dining table is always filled with your favorite food.  Your home is decorated with your favorite colors.

Coriolanus wanted a First Lady, not a wife.

He chooses not to say anything when he finds you in his office one day, staring at the map of Panem, your eyes scanning over the borders of each District.  He stands by the doorway, your back to him.  

A small smile falls to his lips as he observes how you dolled yourself with your latest purchase.  A pretty white dress that suited you so well.

You grasp your hands behind you and you walk curiously to his bookshelf, hardbound books of various shades and thickness fill every space and he watches how your head tilts to the side, making your heavy gemmed hairpins wink under the sunlight.

Coriolanus heads to his desk quietly, only clearing his throat to announce his presence when he is seated.  He watches from the corner of his eyes how you jolt in surprise.  He almost felt bad.

“Looking for something, wife?”  He asks as he opens a letter.  He does not have to look at you to know that you are squirming from having been caught.

“Not really.  I am sorry for barging in.”  You laugh lightly to try and cut through the tension.  You know he does not like having anybody in his office.  Even if it was you.  “I was simply admiring your collection of books.”  That was a lie, they were all about the history of the leaders before your husband and battle strategies, you liked your books fiction.

He smiles briefly, it does not reassure your spirits but it was an attempt from him.  “Are you starting to get interested in politics?”

Your eyes widen as you laugh a little lighter.  “Gods, no.”  You hold your wrist behind you.  “I’m content with being the First Lady.”  You have enough on your plate.  Being a perfect companion to your husband, role model to the women of your great nation, and a daughter of your family.

“I thought you would be having tea with your mother today?”  Coriolanus glances at you and you press your lips to a thin line as you walk over to the couch and straighten up the throw pillows.

You take your time to answer, a small and gloomy smile on your lips.  “I decided not to come.”  You are not in the mood to feed your family information about your husband.  They were very good at it, extracting information from you without you doubting any ulterior motives behind them.  But you changed.

“Well, since you’re here.”  Coriolanus sits straighter in his chair and beckons you closer with a gentle tip of his head towards the seat in front of his desk.  You take it and you look at him with apprehension.  “Why don’t you help me decide a few things?”

Your brows immediately meet in concern.  “Oh.  No, Coriolanus.  I do not wish to overstep.”

He brings a hand up and you shut your lips.  “You are not overstepping.  I am asking for your advice.”

A gentle scoff escapes your smiling lips as you look at him with playful incredulity.  “Surely, I do not know more than you do.”

Coriolanus shrugs, he agrees to that to some extent.  “District 8 plans to discontinue producing Vicuña wool-”  You cut him off with a dramatic gasp.

“They cannot!”  You say in distress.

He leans on his chair to smile at you charmingly.  “Read their letter.”

You reluctantly take it.  Coriolanus watches how your lips form a pout, your eyebrows meeting as you huff, and your eyes dropping to the side in pity.

“Poor Vicuñas.”  You whisper as guilt and desire battle in your eyes.

“Do you support their decision?”  Coriolanus asks as he opens another letter.

“No.”  You immediately say, which piques his interest as he did not know you as someone who passes any opportunity to protect animal life.  “But perhaps we can put it to a pause?” 

You were begging him with those wide glassy eyes of yours as you continued.  “We can put the production to a halt for a few years to let the Vicuña population grow to a reasonable number and once they reach that, they will be shorn under strictly regulated conditions.”  You bite your lip.  “Vicuña wool has been a staple in the wardrobes of the Capitol women, it would cause an uproar if we shut down the productions for good.”

He stifles a laugh as you justify your disapproval.  You were about to continue when you saw the crinkle in his eyes, making you break into a small smile.

“I sound silly, don’t I?”

He shakes his head though he does not bother to hide his grin.  “Not at all.”

You groan as you place the letter firmly back on his desk.  “This is why I never want to get involved in politics.  I just embarrass myself.”  You say while standing up and smoothing out your dress, just to try and hide your flushed cheeks.

“No, no.”  Coriolanus walks over to you and cradles your face.  You still all your movements as you meet his eyes.  He seems to recover from his brief enjoyment and realizes what he has done.  You never know your husband to back down and he chooses to dig his heels right at this moment.  “You have made a brilliant point, wife.  I would have approached this issue with only one perspective, thank you for enlightening me.”  And to both your surprise he presses a soft kiss on your forehead.  You at his sudden display of affection and him for his lack of control of his own impulses.

Your hands grip his coat for support even as he parts from you.  For a moment, you held each other’s gaze, not quite wanting to break it as you know that once you do, whatever you have created between you will burst like a bubble.

“I-I’ll make us dinner.”  You smile shyly.  “There’s this dish I learned recently.”

He nods, a small smile still on his lips.  “I am looking forward to it.”

You smile back in response and reluctantly, you let go of each other.  Coriolanus clears his throat as he returns to his desk as you head towards the door.

“I’ll be joining you at seven.”

Glancing one last time from the door, you nod as you offer him your sweetest smile.

Coriolanus Snow swore to himself to never make the same mistake as to fall in love again.  But when you smile at him that way, he wonders how long he can keep his affections in check.

[dark-fics-4-you]

Crying in the Country Club | ch. I

older!Rafe Cameron x dark!Reader

Warnings: age gap crush; large age gap; accidental flashing; obsessive thoughts; some sexist comments from Reader towards Rafe’s wife; flirting with an older, married man

The Carolina summer heat hung heavy in the air and you had long tuned out the monotonous buzz of the cicadas.

Charlie asked you a question and you answered with a shrug of your shoulders, moving the water around you as you swam in laps around the pool.

Much to your disappointment, Mr. Cameron hadn’t been out to check up on the two at all today.

Usually he would step out of the house and tell some stupid joke that would make you laugh so hard you’d double over, secretly hoping that your best friends’ dad would sneak a peak of your cleavage as your pressed your tits together and giggled stupidly.

The best, and sometimes only, reason that you hung out with Charlie so much was purely to spend time with and get closer to her father.

Rafe Cameron.

Father of your best friend. Best friend of your father. And the man that you obsessed over the most in the world.

Calling your feelings for Rafe Cameron a “crush,” felt childish, juvenile, which were the last ways you’d ever want him to see you.

No, your feelings towards the older man were much more akin to passion. Love. Dedication. And at times, absolute obsession.

For as long as you could remember Mr. Cameron being in your life, you could remember having intense feelings for him.

He had spent so much time around you when you were a kid, the Cameron household felt like your second home, and Rafe had almost felt like a second father in a strange way back then.

Growing up, Rafe had always babysat you until you were old enough to be on your own anytime your parents were unavailable, as you lived pretty close to the Cameron residence.

When you were in middle school you realized that you found Mr. Cameron incredibly attractive, a fact that once you told Charlie years ago, and when she fake threw up and laughed it off, you didn’t bring up again.

Even the fact that Mr. Cameron was happily married had never deterred your affections for him at all.

Hatred, enmity, and loathing were not strong enough words to accurately convey how you felt about Rebecca Cameron.

Charlie’s mother, and more importantly, Rafe’s wife, was an annoying, timid woman. You had had many years to hypothesize about their relationship and why Rafe stayed with that woman and for the life of you, you could never figure it out.

They probably were still together for Charlie’s sake, although now that you were both college aged, you didn’t see why Rafe didn’t just hurry up and divorce her already.

You were right there in front of him! What could possibly be holding him back?

As your thoughts ricocheted down more anxious rabbit holes in your mind, you were interrupted by the shrill sound of Charlie’s voice.

“I gotta go to the bathroom, and I think I’ll be done swimming after that. Are you cool with getting out soon?”

“Yeah, just lemme stay a lil longer.”

Charlie nodded and left you alone, thankfully.

You were still upset that Rafe hadn’t made an appearance. Here you were, showing yourself off wearing one of your skimpiest bikinis, and he was nowhere to be found.

Was he ignoring you? Was he trying to piss you off?

Maybe it was all just an elaborate ploy of faking disinterest to throw Mrs. Cameron off the trail?

Or maybe he didn’t have any feelings for you at all.

That thought made you want to rip out your hair and claw out your eyes with your fingernails.

Of course, it was probably all that witch, Rebecca Cameron’s fault.

She disliked you, that much you knew, but you were Charlie’s best friend, so there wasn’t much she could do to stop you from visiting.

You suspected, and hoped, that her disapproval of you also stemmed from the fact that you were a young, attractive, single woman.

All of the things she wasn’t.

Maybe she suspected Rafe might leave her for a younger woman. Honestly, if you were her, you would have been scared of that too.

Your eyes fell to the diving board and you realized you hadn’t used it at all today. Feeling pent up with anxious energy, you figured it couldn’t hurt to do a dive or two.

You climbed onto the board, testing the springiness with a few bounces before diving in to the cool water.

When your head broke the surface, you were surprised to hear clapping, and you opened your eyes to see Mr. Cameron standing at the edge of the pool watching you.

“Nice dive, Y/N? Have you been working on your form?” His deep voice brought butterflies to your stomach and you grinned at him and swam a bit closer.

He had noticed that your dive had improved? Did that mean he had been watching you more closely than you thought?

Plastering your sweetest smile across your lips, you giggled, twirling a piece of your hair in your finger as you answered, “I have, I’m glad you noticed!”

Finally reaching a place you could stand, you planted your feet on the floor of the pool and straightened up.

When Rafe’s eyes widened and his cheeks brightened before glancing away after a beat, you looked down to realize that your bikini top had become unfastened and your bare chest was exposed.

Feigning embarrassment, but secretly feeling thrilled, you let out an “oops!” before taking your time adjusting the material and trying to tie the top.

“Shit,” you huffed as you faked being unable to tie it, and you climbed out of the pool and turned your back to Rafe.

“Um, could you help me?” You asked in a sweet voice, playing dumb and innocent in front of him.

The older man hesitated for a moment before nervously chuckling and reaching for the straps.

When his large hands brushed against your dewy skin, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud, and you were thankful he couldn’t see your face.

When he was done, you turned around, glancing up at the much taller man cheerily.

“Thanks, Mr. Cameron!”

Rafe sheepishly chuckled, looking embarrassed, “no problem, Y/N.”

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment, and you tried to guess what could possibly be going through his mind.

You wondered if he was hard right now.

“Well, um… dinner is almost ready. Charlie and Rebecca are already inside.”

At the mention of his wife, you frowned, but you jokingly played it off like you had just wanted to keep swimming and you were relieved when Rafe laughed with you.

You briefly wondered if he would mention the incident to Rebecca. Even though he only got a short glance, you hoped Rafe had compared your body to his wife’s, just for a split second.

Stepping inside the impressive Cameron house, the scent of garlic and tomatoes wafted from the kitchen and you realized that swimming had worked up more of an appetite than you had thought.

After taking a quick shower (during which you left the door unlocked hoping Rafe would accidentally stumble in), you dried off and changed into a tight, flattering top and a short skirt that you had caught Rafe staring at you when you wore it last.

Walking into the dining room, you could feel his eyes on you in your revealing outfit and you took your spot beside your best friend and across from Rafe.

When you reached for the bottle of red wine to pour yourself a glass, Mrs. Cameron loudly cleared her throat, glancing over at her husband with a raised eyebrow.

“What Becca? The girls can have a little wine with dinner, we let them all the time.” Rafe chuckled, referring to the many occasions when the Cameron’s had hosted extravagant dinner parties with 5 courses and liberally flowing alcohol.

Rafe winked at you and you grinned, silently ecstatic that he had shut his wife down for you.

She grumbled as you poured the glass, and you made sure that you added slightly more than may have usually been appropriate just to piss her off a little more.

Mrs. Cameron’s cooking was very good, but that was about where your praises for her ended.

She was incredibly high strung, and was frequently prone to have fits that required intensive professional treatment in the past, a fact that the Cameron’s usually preferred to keep under wraps.

On top of her volatile mood swings, you just found her to be incredibly annoying.

And you weren’t the only one.

Charlie seemed to pity and tolerate her mom more than anything else, and even your beloved Rafe seemed to get frustrated with her at times, much to your excitement.

You just had to put up with her if you wanted to be close to him.

As Mrs. Cameron droned on about reality tv shows and other trash, you glanced over to Rafe to see that even he wasn’t paying attention. The older man shot you a knowing smile when he noticed you, subtly rolling his eyes as Rebecca blabbed on.

You stifled a giggle, clenching your thighs together beneath the table and hidden from view when you felt a sudden wetness growing between your legs from his attention.

Charlie was, like usual, completely oblivious and checked out, scrolling on her phone at the table and giving her mom one word answers to every question she asked her.

The meal was delicious and you tolerated Mrs. Cameron’s lame questions about how your dad was doing, or your plans for the next semester and what classes you were going to take.

Conversations about college only made you feel depressed. Maybe it was because it was another reminder that you were growing up when you were scared to. Or perhaps it was due to the fact that acknowledging that you were still in college made you feel like more of a kid around Rafe and Rebecca.

On the other hand, sometimes you wondered if talking about it ever made Rebecca feel threatened. Did she fear her husband chasing after sorority girls and leaving her for the newest model?

You hoped that she did.

When dinner ended, Rafe stood and grabbed Charlie and Rebecca’s plates, reaching for yours as well and you shook your head.

“I want to help with the dishes tonight,” you confidently told him, hoping that Mrs. Cameron would feel bad for not stepping up before you could.

You frequently volunteered to do chores around the house when you came over, which Rafe always told you wasn’t expected or required of you, but you knew that seeing you step up in the household might make him realize all of the ways his wife was slacking.

Not to mention, it just meant more alone time with him.

The older man smiled at you, and when he thanked you you swore you felt your heart skip a beat.

In the kitchen, you claimed responsibility for scrubbing the plates before handing them off to Rafe to put in the dishwasher.

“Charlie told me that you two went on a double date last week, is that right?”

“Ha! She told you about that? Did she also tell you it ended with me dumping a milkshake on my date’s head?” You shook your head as you laughed, grabbing a sudsy fork from the sink and passing it to Mr. Cameron.

“She mentioned something like that,” he chuckled as he placed it in the dishwasher. “He must have pissed you off pretty bad, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, thinking back to the disastrous date. Charlie had meant well when she invited you out with her and her current fling, but she just didn’t understand your taste in men, and the dumb as rocks frat boy she had brought along for you had lasted all of two minutes before he began annoying you.

You just couldn’t stomach his crude humor and childish personality.

“He asked me what my favorite position was within 10 minutes of meeting me.” You dryly replied and Rafe raised his eyebrows in surprise before loudly laughing.

“Then he tried to guess my bra size like 5 times. And he was wrong. Every time!” You rolled your eyes as you giggled and Rafe laughed even harder.

You might have imagined it, but you thought you saw his eyes quickly glance down at your chest when you said “bra size,” and you desperately hoped that he was remembering seeing your tits after your top fell off.

Grabbing another plate, you handed it to him with a sigh, “I’m just so tired of dating guys my age. They’re all immature idiots.”

Rafe chuckled, “you’ll find the right one. Just got to keep trying.”

His words annoyed you. You had already found “the right one” and that was him. When he turned away to put the dish away you admired the way his muscles flexed and strained his shirt sleeve.

You felt like Mr. Cameron wasn’t listening to you at all. Maybe you needed to be a little more obvious. Perhaps he was holding himself back bc he was unsure of what your reaction would be.

“Well,” you began boldly, handing him another plate and holding your eye contact this time. “I think he might be closer than I realize. I just need to stop going out with guys my age.”

His fingers brushed yours as you passed him some silverware and you felt a thrill race up your spine. Did he do that on purpose?

Feeling cocky, you grabbed the last plate from the sink and when you passed it to him, you let your other hand fall to his bicep and you looked up at him through your lashes.

“I mean, what I really need is someone much older,” you stepped even closer to him, so near that your chests were almost touching, and you gave his bicep a little squeeze.

“Y/N…” Rafe stammered, looking into your eyes for several moments. You couldn’t breathe, so physically close to the man that you could practically hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

The sound of Rebecca’s voice drawing close and then the creak of the kitchen door made him flinch away from you, and you watched the plate slip out of his hand in slow motion, falling to the floor before shattering into pieces.

“Fuck-!” Rafe cursed and you quickly stepped backwards to avoid stepping on the broken shards with your bare feet.

“Rafe? What’s going on?” Rebecca asked, eyes widening when she heard and saw the dish break on the floor.

“Nothing. You just scared me, Becca,” he laughed, glancing around at the broken glass, although he was more unbothered than you due to his shoes.

“Oh sorry. Um, are you two almost finished up here? Charlie wants to watch a movie together, for the first time in weeks,” she excitedly added and you laughed inwardly at that. Of course she would be thrilled at the idea of her uninterested daughter actually wanting to do an activity with her for once.

You were sure she had only agreed to it to stop her mom’s nagging for a little bit.

“Yeah,” Rafe cleared his throat. “Just let me clean up this plate and I’ll be right in.”

Carefully watching your step to avoid the shards, you followed Mrs. Cameron as she walked out the kitchen, but you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back when she had left your sight.

Rafe was leaning against the counter and frowning at the floor, seemingly lost in thought, but when he lifted his head before you exited and your gaze briefly connected, your cheeks flushed with heat from the hungry look in his piercing blue eyes.

[allfearstofallto]

How easy it would be to escape them

Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader

Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche

TW: Yandere Themes, Stalking, Mentions of Punishment

Diluc - Difficulty Level: Very Easy

Do you think he doesn't regret what he's done? That he doesn't stay up all night, fighting internally with what he thinks he should do with you? Taking you was a spur of the moment thing, something that happened without a lot of thought put behind it. He just knew he needed you close. He needed you to be near. He needed you with him.

Because of this you're already able to push him around a fair bit. He gives you almost everything you want except for freedom, pure red eyes practically begging for your forgiveness.

He won't let you go if you just ask, he's not that lenient after all, but if he were to wake up one morning and you were not there, he'd go through so many emotions at one time. The manor would be searched from top to bottom, every nook and cranny searched for you. When you're not found a part of him feels calm, it feels satisfied. He stole you without your permission, so he's happy that you're finally free like you wanted. But there's also a tragic, gripping pain in his chest. You're gone, and he knows that he has no right to ask for you back. If you manage to leave Diluc, you'll probably never see him again.

Childe - Difficulty Level: Medium

His playfulness is simultaneously a ploy and his actual personality, such is the nature of him. He's so easy going most days, so funny and kind that part of you forgets that he's forced you into this. Until he has one of those bad days and you see the true strength and fury of a harbinger.

Even before you were stolen by Childe, you found him rather strange. Maybe it was the lack of light in his eyes, or how he casually talked about fighting and killing like it was nothing. Those should've been red flags, signals to stop talking to him, but his charm was laid on thick and suddenly you were stuck in his home in Snezhnaya.

Do you think you escaped because of your wit or because he let you? You'd never truly know the answer, but you thought it strange that you were able to leave his house without a single maid alerting him, without a single guard chasing you.

That sigh of relief you breathe when you're finally home may be the last one you get. Suddenly you feel so afraid constantly. You chalk it up to paranoia, but you can't stop looking over your shoulder. And then you start seeing traces of him. Fatui foot soldiers and letters with that familiar wax seal on them.

When you eventually see him, smiling at you casually like nothing is wrong, your heart practically shatters. You find yourself asking again, did you truly get away or did he let you? He always mentioned loving the chase.

Scaramouche - Difficulty Level: Very Hard

Good luck getting him to even trust you enough to let you roam the gardens without him. His home is a maze of eyes and watchful gazes, the only person you can rely on is yourself. There isn't really much you can do to get away from him, the house is guarded like a prison and Scaramouche himself is a tough man to get along with.

He loves you, he knows he does, that's what that painful feeling in his chest is, but he can't bring himself to even give you a taste of freedom. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile. Because of that you often spend time sitting next to windows, longingly looking outside at the world you're convinced you'll never see again. Not without him breathing over your shoulder.

Let yourself get away if you dare, you'd better hope your plan is air tight. Scaramouche won't fall for the same tricks twice. Fool him once, shame on him, but fool him twice and you'll learn how truly kind he was being to you before. Hope and pray to whichever Archon you worship that when you get away, he won't find you. But getting away is just the beginning. Staying out of his reach is the hardest. His home isn't the only place where he has eyes everywhere.

[ditzydoe444]

i feel like perv!jason would steal sum of ditzy!readers clothes n give it back to her so he seems like a hero for finding it for her (after he came inside it ofc!!)

— your fav, 🍓 (SORRY THIS JUST CAME UP INMY HEAD AND I NEEDED TO TRLL YOU IT UGHH)

MDNI 18+

a/n: i love all requests don’t apologise :((

you grumbled as you searched your closet for your favourite shirt, the one you wore to bed basically every single damn night was gone. at this point you flipped your whole closet and room upside down, and still that shirt was no where to be seen.

jason who was working on building your vanity remained ‘unaware’ or so you thought. “what’s wrong?” he asked, seemingly innocent to you, but you were just too damn dumb. you pouted, your pink glossed lips jutting out, “lost my favourite sleeping shirt.”

jason frowned at your response, his emotions seemingly empathetic, but it was all a part of a scheme. “sorry to hear that, maybe i can help you look?” his muscles rippling against his shirt as he tightened a bolt.

you shrugged, it seemed useless, you’ve searched everywhere, and you knew every single possible hiding spot so how could jason find it? he stood up dusting his pants, “how about this? i go to look for it, and you go and bake me some of those choc chip cookies i like so much hm?”

obviously, from how dumb you were you didn’t see his ploy, thinking he was some knight in shining armour offering to help. you nodded with a cheesy smile your pout finally gone. “ok jacey,” you said before skipping down to the kitchen, leaving him all alone in your room.

the moment you were in a safe distance away, which jason could tell from your humming whilst you grabbed the baking pan he pulled out the shirt from his duffle bag. for the past few weeks jason had lied about his laundry machine being broken, and asked if he could just use yours. although that was just an excuse to have his clothes smell like yours.

though his actions make seem heroic to you being so unaware, but little did you know what he did to that poor shirt. the moment he went back to his house, he would lock himself in his room and jerk off, coming to it. he would sniff it, rubbing it against his cock before coming all over it. and that was just one shirt he did that to.

though he warned most of the incriminating evidence away, there was just a few stains left… he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it, knowing just how damn dumb you are, you wouldn’t even think twice. “found it!” he shouted, walking to the kitchen with the shirt in his hands.

“it was under your bed,” he shrugged with a casual smile seeing how your eyes widened like a puppy. a small squeal left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. “thanks jacey!!” he didn’t waste a second to wrap his strong arms around you. silently, he wished that this moment wouldn’t end, the way your chest was squished against his was just too much.

god he was going to do this again.

[thewertsearch]

Jane is not empowered to rehash this tired running gag because all of a sudden she is too busy being the other guy.

Pen-pal jumpscare!

Well, this kid's just John with hair gel. Looks like our original protagonist had literally all of his father's genes, alongside one single strand of Jane's prankster tendencies.

There's that letter, as well as Liv Tyler in her larval stage.

One question I'm hoping for an answer to, of course, is: how the fuck was this guy sending packages between timelines?

COME THE FUCK ON!

I thought Lord English was going to be subtle about this! The bastard isn't even trying to hide his influence over the timeline! He's straight-up taunting us with this shit!

Well, that's that, I guess. Jane's being indoctrinated by Betty Crocker, and Jake appears to be under the influence of the big boss himself. I highly doubt English raised him directly - instead, I expect he was given this surname by his Bec-analogue, the First Guardian who raised him in lieu of Grandma Jade.

Who knows what his current understanding of the plot is. Jake is now just as likely to be an unwitting villain as Jane - and, come to think of it, Bro could easily be under Cal's influence already, so we might have a third Dark Player on our hands before long.

Is this what Scratch was up to all along, then? Was this entire clusterfuck just a complicated ploy to place four Players on the board who are loyal to Lord English?

[kaszuma]

Second Guesses | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 4 of "Certainly Yours"

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader

summary: you and Soshiro have never once addressed your relationship. But that all changes when he sees a man hand you a drink.

warnings: mentions of alcohol. Adult drinking. Afterparty drinking. Hint of Jealousy, Nothing too serious.

wc: 2,836

---

note: Not proofread. Not really good at writing jealousy for Soshiro. I assumed he'd be more subtle in his advances. I've already planned out the next part. Might be getting an NSFW scene soon. So stay tuned.

---

It's been a few days since you've established this strange relationship with the Vice Captain of the Third Division.

All those admiring glances and careful touches have now been pried open to reveal lasting kisses in the hallways of the early mornings when no one was watching. Even in the heat of the afternoons, he made it very clear to you that he was handsy. Desperate to be close to you. And his palms, which had often been restrained to make innocent touches on your shoulder. Would evolve into a hasty fit of grabbing. Slotting themselves around your waist, subtly spelling his name on the small of your back. All a ploy to pull you much closer when you kiss.

And you reciprocated all the same by running your hands through the smooth roots of his hair. Scratching the gradual taper down to the base of his neck. Where you'd feel him shudder from your touch. Desperate enough so that he stops you from your movements to reply back with an even larger gesture.

Like you had deserved the world and back.

But despite the risky kisses you two would share in the middle of work. Soshiro had made sure that no one was watching. Keeping his loving glances to the privacy of your eyes. Letting not a single person witness his affection for you.

Not letting anyone get any dirt on him. And surprisingly, he was pretty good at keeping this situation between you two a secret.

From pulling away the moment you'd hear voices. Or looking around to see if cameras and voice recordings were within reach.

And luckily since he had access to most of it, he'd easily be able to remove the evidence before Captain Ashiro can check herself.

And should they be discovered? Soshiro was a master of evasive manipulation. Likely with his words alone, he'd be able to wriggle his way out of the situation and make up an excuse for the both of you so that you won't be caught in the awkwardness of it all. Both a boon and a bane to be dealt with.

Though, you highly doubt it would ever come to that situation.

Because for as long as you remember. Despite the guise of his easy-going persona. He was still the respected Vice Captain everyone knew him as. And like his responsibilities. He remained disciplined, loyal to Kaiju slaying. His meticulousness shows in the way he practices his swordsmanship to the privacy he has with you. He keeps his cards close and you even closer.

He holds you as if you were a treasure he found and was unable to share, lest you be taken away from his safekeeping.

And God forbid, if something happened to you.

There would be hell to pay.

And like all his bad habits. He had been able to keep up this persona. Even with you, it seems he still isn't used to that newfound feeling that he's come across. He wasn't used to the ever growing importance you had on his life.

Unable to comprehend the feelings that bloomed within him when you managed to crawl your way into his hardened heart. And now that you're there, he doesn't know whether to hold you tighter or not.

And for whatever reason. You understood that sentiment exactly. Even when those words never left his mouth.

Although it wasn't ideal, you had decided not to confront his aversion to public intimacy. If he had not decided what you are to him. Then so be it. You would be nothing and everything to him, if that helped ease his mind.

Soshiro was a busy man. He was often the last person to shut off all the lights in the training room. And the first person to grab a cup of coffee in the mess hall. And to ruin that routine now, and ask for his confirmation of exclusivity? You’d rather not overwork the poor man who already has enough on his plate. The task was still far too early a concept for the both of you to grasp.

So, you let the man be.

As much as it did sting to see him ignore your presence entirely instead of greeting you in the crowded mess hall. You had not moved from your spot. Letting Soshiro take the lead. Only hearing the trace of his faint laughter ring out as he answered vaguely from the few questions he'd get from some of the officers.

And you smile knowing fully well that he had not alluded to you at all when someone asked if he was seeing anyone.

That is until that persona of his cracked unexpectedly..

It was the evening after a successful mission. The third division had just gotten back from exterminating an army of Yoju in the area. And just like its repertoire, no casualties were sustained during the attack. Not even a broken combat suit that needed fixing. Which made your job a little easier no doubt.

And now, the entirety of the Third Division had been invited out to drink. Renting a large bar down the street, nearest the base.

It hadn't been a few minutes since you sat down. Recognizing a few operators like Okonogi who invited you to sit down next to her. She had excused herself momentarily, likely a trip to the restrooms. When suddenly a martini slid towards you. It had the color of liquid poison, and it reminds you that you haven't had a single drink that night. Unlike the few rambunctious folks who had cheered when a glass of beer was poured to their glasses.

The moment you turn your head you see the telltale signs of an Officer staring right back at you. His grin was one you hadn't recognized, languidly pushing the pretty glass towards you where it was within reach. His cheeks aflame from the steady intake of alcohol.

He was likely a new officer. A recruit from this year's batch. Otherwise, you'd have recognized him from the plenty of times officers would come by to the lab to have their weapons upgraded or repaired.

“Drink up! It's a successful night after all.” He moved uncomfortably closer. And you could smell the stench of his breath that made you want to cringe away. But you didn't really want to seem rude, so you gently nudged him back. To leave enough room between the two of you. Luckily he had seemed to have gotten the hint and poured another glass for himself.

“Want another one?”

The encouragement makes you smile. He had likely not realized that he had been talking to the wrong person. Too drunk to notice that you weren't an officer like the rest of the people in the bar.

“No thank you. I'm good.” you said. “Though, you might consider drinking some water? Maybe it'll help you sober up.” You gestured to the bartender. Though the martini is handed to your palms before you could raise your hand. And you caught yourself before the liquid could make a mess and spill all over the place.

“The night's still young and it's rare that the Captains are treating us to a drink.” He convinced you. And you find yourself second guessing, staring at your drink in thought.

It did look like a very expensive martini. And from the looks of the officer that had offered it to you, he'd been chugging down his own set that he had ordered himself. Already moving on to give you some of his glasses that he had planned to drink.

It wouldn't hurt to taste it, right?

“I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.” You had interjected, already moving the petite glass to your lips.

What you hadn't realized however, was the intense stare you'd get from the back of your head. Red eyes line your figure from across the room. And the bottle of Sake he had ordered was long forgotten at his table with Captain Ashiro.

Before you knew it, the glass rim had been blocked by a hand. And you could see the appearance of an arm obscure the right side of your vision. Blocking both the drink and the drunken gaze from the officer in question.

“Don't ya know you shouldn't accept drinks from strangers, sweetheart?”

Soshiro's husky voice quivered from behind. And you could hear the way his chest rumbled as it pressed against your back. Hand already putting the martini back on the table, away from your lips.

“Vice Captain..?” You hear the officer exclaim in slow syllables. And suddenly the man shot up in a salute. Though dazed from the drinks he clearly had, the rest of the officers behind him had laughed. Clearly amused that the Vice Captain had made an appearance, with an audience no less.

And that was enough to turn your head around to meet his eyes.

And his smile. The smile that had always been difficult to read, had not faded at all the moment you faced him. At least not entirely, as it looked a little irritated. More forced than usual. It seems you're starting to get better at reading his grins. At least, to some extent.

“At ease, we're just about to leave.” He spoke nonchalantly. His gaze not once leaving yours. Which makes your breath hitch slightly.

Your eyes had darted around, first seeing the perplexed faces of the officers. And then seeing the calm expression of both Okonogi and Captain Ashiro just eating some karaage from the sidelines. With the bespectacled girl in particular, clearly enjoying the attention both you and Soshiro had received. She had probably returned long ago and saw the commotion happening.

Likely alluding to the fact that they had already been made aware of their strange relationship. Which makes you a little calmer, knowing that this hadn't been an official work setting. Celebrations at the bar is one thing, but plenty of the Third had still been present, making this seem all the more exposed than ever.

Shit.

Why was he here?

Wasn't he afraid of letting people know about them? or whatever situation their relationship was at the moment. He had made it very clear that he wasn't keen on his admission. Not a single word from his lips that they were more than friends. Let alone lovers. What's changed?

“We were?” You had whispered to him.

“We are. So let's go, yeah?” He simply gestures for you to stand up, hand on the small of your back whilst pointing his chin to the direction of the door. Though before he could gently lead you away the same officer had squinted his eyes. As if a strange idea had popped into his head, but had doubted the premise for it to be factual.

“Where are ya’ going, Vice Captain? You can't just pick girls up like that..” You had seen the small twitch on the corner of Soshiro's lips. It quivers in that irritation you knew well. And it was just their luck that this drunken officer had spoken his thoughts out loud.

Shit. You decide to intervene. “No need to worry, I was just about to grab an uber back to base anyway-”

“What?” Soshiro had looked at you. “No yer’ not, do you know how late it is?”

You had flinched upon hearing Soshiro's firm voice. A first in which he spoke to you with a slightly raised tone. And you could feel the curious stares in your direction.

“Yes, I am.” You said. “And the Vice Captain here is only going to escort me out until my ride is here.” You say between gritted teeth. The sorry excuse of a reasoning was sloppy at best, but you had at least hoped some people had just gotten the picture and left the topic alone.

But Soshiro couldn't help but sigh, remorseful of the way he had raised your voice at you like that. He was only concerned for your safety. And added to the irritation of prying eyes, he didn't mean to reveal so much just from one sentence of his.

“No, Just-” He starts, “Listen, I'll take ya home myself. I don't want ya out this late. Now come on.”

He had grabbed your wrist. Already pulling you along to the exit. Of course, this had garnered stares from their audience. And although some had been wise enough not to ask further questions.In fear of insubordination, it seems not everyone had been sober enough to read the room.

“Woah..Am I missing something here? It's like you two are dating.” The officer had taken a sip of his martini. Curiously glancing around and back at the two of you.

And Soshiro looks back at the crowd who now had incredulous looks on their faces.

“Got a problem with that, soldier?” He spoke with his eyes open. Deep crimson staring at the soldier who could barely stand from the Alcohol he consumed. And you could feel the way Soshiro had nudged you past the door before you could meet any of their prying eyes.

“N-no sir.” He had gulped, turning around to pour himself a shot. Likely already knowing that he might've done himself in by the look at Soshiro's face. His expression, though laid-back as usual, had spoken everything it needed to tell him.

And he was definitely going to run laps, or clean bathrooms the morning after.

“You there. Remind him tomorrow morning to meet me in my office.” He pointed towards the Officer that was nearest the drunken man. Who had proceeded to drink another glass. And before he could hear the response. He walks out the bar's entrance, with you in tow.

Immediately you turned towards him. Brows furrowed in response to his strange behavior. Jealousy was one thing, but now you had an even bigger question. A more sincere one, that you didn't think would be a possibility until now.

“Did you really mean that?” You spoke hesitantly. Watching him walk past you, fishing out the keys for his car.

“Mean what, sugar plum?” and you had half a mind to roll your eyes. Suddenly baffled that his demeanor changed so quickly.

“Don't change the subject. Do you or do you not mean it?” She had stopped walking. And halfway on his step Soshiro had turned towards her. A hint of shock on his expression, but it was so miniscule that you were second guessing if it was truly there.

And his grin had been all the same.

…

Silence would engulf the two for a moment. The type that had been sickening if it went on for too long. But Soshiro hadn't let it get that far. And he spoke.

“I mean it.”

He had turned to avoid your gaze. His hand fidgets to fish out the keys in his pockets, despite having already found it long ago. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for a while..I just..didn't know how.”

“So you shamelessly announce it to the entire Third Division?” You couldn't help but smile. Reaching out for his hand until she held him firmly. And his touch had all but devoured her warmth.

“Do ya’ have to remind me?”

“Yeah. You dug your own grave on that one.” A chuckle escaped your lips. And he turns to you. With unusually pink cheeks that had reddened up to his ears. A rare sight to behold it seems.

“So?” He started. “Do you want to? Be with me, I mean.”

“Hmm…let me think..” You had walked much closer to him. Until you were practically chest to chest with his solid form. And before you knew it, you were leaning up to capture his lips for a momentary kiss. Taking his breath away like all the times he had done the same to you.

Though, you hadn't expected his immediate reply when he slid his free hand to your jaw. Replying back with purposeful kisses. This time, slow and drawn out. Not at all the rush you were used to from all the kisses prior. The haste was likely a result from not wanting to get caught.

And the moment you pull away, you could see the familiar cheeky grin he has on that face of his. Thumb running across the underside of your jaw. “I assume that's a yes?”

“What do you think, genius?”

You feel yourself be pulled into a tight embrace. And you could smell the fresh laundry of his uniform invade your senses. His scent had been all but intoxicating. Relaxing you to the bone. Helping you feel safe within his arms that not even a single Kaiju would dare threaten.

“Yer’ really keepin me second guessing huh? I suppose I deserve that.” He spoke, burying his face against the crown of your hair. Relishing in the feeling of your steady form.

And he supposes he'll have to ask a thousand times more if he was allowed to.

So that no more second guesses are made.