#only thing is sometimes I need to press harder to use it and it kind of hurts my wrist after a while

[baeglbites]

girl beams them

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[hitomisuzuya]

scaramouche x fem!reader. brain rot. smut. corruption. finger sucking. degradation. bondage. choking. dirty talk. blow job. creampie. worship.

i dunno, i think that lowercase just looks neater. i am just typing to type. requests will be open sometime this week.

to scaramouche, you oozed everything that the kabukimono used to. you are polite, kind, and accepting. innocent and naive. everything scaramouche wanted to break.

shatter that naive innocence like glass, and scatter the shards to the wind. while he reduces reduces you to a simpering, drooling slut craving his every touch.

scaramouche is fixated on you, latching onto your adoring and intimate submission to him like a rapid dog.

control wasn't a luxury he had often in his life, especially as the kabukimono. the fact that you offer him complete intimate control makes him so weak in the knees, it sends him absolutely reeling. you are a corruptible plaything for him to use while he fucks you.

and you do nothing but beg for more while he pumps his cock into you.

making and hearing you beg stretches his ego, a stretch he feels right in his cock. he can make your pretty, innocent mouth say the lewdest things. you want his cock in your mouth? beg for it. you want him to cum inside of you? beg for it. you want to choke on his fingers? beg for it.

and beg for it you do.

cumming on you as well as inside you is also a very dominant thing for him. it was a way to mark his territory. cumming on your pussy as well fucking it full and dripping is so satisfying to him. even better for him when you reach down to finger his cum back inside yourself.

the way your eyes light up, welling with such a look of adoration when he degraded you makes his cock pulse stronger as your gummy walls milk his cock. you rock your hips up so obediently into his, lewd moans spilling from your mouth behind even lewder words. "please, master! please, fuck me! i need your cock inside of me, please!" it makes his head spin with love as you lean your head up to deliver a few submissive kitten licks to his lips following the sweet sounds of your begging.

scaramouche gets off on showing his dominance over you in bed. every intimate move he makes is dominant.

the way your lips part as he prods two fingers against them, your tongue sweeping delicately out to lick and lap in worship. making you suck on his fingers is a dominant rush for him.

he'll explore your mouth, rubbing and pressing on your tongue while your warm, pretty mouth sucked. drool would pool from the corners of your mouth as he pumped them, making you choke as he pushed them into your throat. "keep sucking, slut," he hissed, smirking as you muffle an aroused moan of bliss, pleasing him by eagerly sucking like a good girl, "kind of you to know what your mouth is good for."

in his opinion, scaramouche thinks your wrists look twice as delicate bound together with deep purple silk ribbons from inazuma or liyue. however, on nights were he is feeling extra sadistic and harsh, he will use rope that will inevitably rub a faint mark on them.

your innocent delicacy always shines a little brighter if you are all tied up for him like a perfect toy. if thinks your skin is too unmarked, his bruises of passionate aggression fading too much, he still used two hands to hold you down even though you are tied up for him, his mouth sucking and his teeth grinding new life back into his bruises. the way you moan and mewl, grinding your messy cunt on his cock as he worked only makes him harder. "keep moaning like a whore and i'll fuck you raw in both your holes."

his degradation is unique form of praise. the harsher the degradation is him telling you that you are being the goodest girl ever for him. he never cums harder when your walls are squeezing around his cock hearing his degradation.

worship stretches his ego, a stretch that he feels right in his cock. there is an embarrassed blush of love on his cheeks as he looks down at you, so innocently on your knees. your tongue tie licks lines up and down his length, showering him in words of worship. "no on compares to you," you suck on various parts of his cock, "not even an archon's power comes close to yours," your prod your tongue in the slit, curling your tongue around his leaking cock head as you scooped it into your mouth to suck on.

"that's right, slut. now choke on my cock like a good girl," the feeling of your throat spasming and convulsing around his cock makes his knees tremble and his thighs shake. you let out wet, muffled moans as he fucks his cock into your mouth, so sweet and doting. eager for him to spill cum onto your tongue.

the erotic thrill it gives scaramouche hearing your breath hitch with anticipation when he wraps his hand around your throat, his fingers prodding with the intention to squeeze as he impales you on his cock. the amount of trust you place in him makes him even weaker for you. you trust him enough to squeeze just right, enough to make you cum writhing on his cock as you struggled to scream for him in the way in enjoys. trusting him enough to let go at just right time.

cumming on you as well as inside you is also a very dominant thing for him. it was a way to mark his territory. cumming on your pussy as well fucking it full and dripping is so satisfying to him. even better for him when you reach down to finger his cum back inside yourself.

he prefers to finger it back up inside of you himself though, bringing his fingers up for you suck on and clean.

[ardensregias]

his songbird

contents!! yingxing x female reader. prone bone turned missionary. reader is shy :3 dirty talk. lots of teasing!!! sliight dacriphilia. edging. praises. tummy bulge mmmm. petnames: angel, baobei, darling. yingxing gege !! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა

my clit wrote this so this def sucks & not proofread & kinda selfship-coded . . ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა *runs away*

it's endearing, the way you tighten your hold on the silk sheets, buries the sweet face he's missed so badly into the feather-filled pillow, as if that'd help you to tone down the loud and obscene noises that escape your lungs.

"still so shy, hm?" he coos, slotting himself deeper into your aching cunt, "'s not like this is the first time we've done this, angel,"

too exhausted to form a coherent reply, a whine escapes your lips instead, giving yingxing all the answers he needs. the craftsman reads you like an open book. no matter how much you seldom admit to it, deep down you know that it's the truth—that he always knows what to do with you; the things you'd love to hear and feel, and all the right ways to turn you into putty for him with masterful ease.

such as right now; the way he brings one rough hand down from your breast to your hips, pressing down on the plush skin to stop you from squirming too much, pushing you into the edge and humming in satisfaction at each one of your adorable reaction. it fuels his ego to know that he's the only one who can mold and shape you into such a perfect doll for him to use and fold into any position he'd like.

"i can tell you're loving this. would you like me to go harder, baobei?"

from the mirth oozing from his words, you can already picture him wearing the cheekiest smirk that you so despise to see, waiting for any kind of response—which he's 100% sure will not be a comprehensible one.

"gege, i—please—nghh... i-if you do tha—haaah!" you cried out, hiccuping out little incoherent babbles and dragging your nails across the soaked sheets, seeking for any semblance of relief.

so predictable, he thinks. his lips curl further upward, grinning at your reaction, finding it difficult to resist teasing you further, "use your words, baobei, c'mon—or are you telling me that this is enough to break you?"

and as if to make it worse for you, yingxing rolls his hips up, pushing his pelvic bone flush against the swell of your butt until his leaky cockhead manage to kiss that soft spongy spot inside you, and your back arches alluringly in return, lips quivering in a struggle to keep your voice down—fearing the possibility of alerting the entire neighborhood of the debauched activities you two are engaged in.

your lover presses a series of chaste kisses on your shoulder blade like you are his revered goddess, seemingly unbothered by the sound of your wails and whines bouncing off the walls. if anything, he wants to show you off—after all, not everyone is lucky enough to have such precious songbird in their bed.

"still no answer, huh... need me to stop?" he queried, halting all movements as broad shoulders hunched down to loom over your smaller body, silver strands of hair cascading over your back—perhaps to purposely tickle the sensitive column of your neck, adding more stimulation and drawing out more of your sugary sweet voice he'd swallow like the wine he often shares with the quintet.

(your lover can be quite cruel sometimes.)

"g-gege!" you yelp, using the little energy you have left to find purchase in his arm and spoke between gasps, "no, nonono—don'... don't stop, gege, please... wan' you to go harder..."

(but he's never immune to your adorable pleas.)

he cannot help the chuckle that escapes his lungs, because finally, "that's my good girl—see, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" he croons, large hands finding purchase on your sides to maneuver you on your back, and you swore you felt his length twitches at the mere sight of you—mouth agape with a trail of drool running down the side of your mouth, tears clinging to your lashes and the apple of your cheeks, and—oh.

was that a little bump he's seeing on your tummy?

yingxing went silent for a few seconds, before he slowly—painfully so—slides his palm from down your torso, stopping atop your abdomen and pressing down on the slightly protruding flesh, successfully drawing out the most darling squeal out of your spit-slicked lips, followed by a subtle shudder of your body, "gege—! w-wait..."

the blacksmith pays you no mind as he begins moving again, battering your insides with renewed vigor, thrusting faster and shoving his girth deeper, relishing the sight of the bulge disappearing and reappearing with each jerk of his hips. you did beg for him for this, after all—he's just being a good husband and doing what his beloved wife wants him to do!

he gently cups your cheeks, admiring the cockdrunk look you have on your face before he shushes you with a light press of his lips against yours, "sshh, 's okay... cum for me, baobei—be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?" the teasing lilt in his voice falters into a guttural groan as your walls constrict and gushes around his girth and triggering his orgasm. seeing how hard you're clamping down on him, it's safe to assume that you're trying to milk him dry, knocking the cockiness off his face as he pant on top of you.

once the blacksmith regained his composure, he brings his thumb down, rubbing hearts over your throbbing nub as he stills himself, gazing down at your juices mixed with his milky seed drivelling down your thighs and webbing his pubes. it's a sight awfully lewd and he can't stop the little aww it pulls from his lungs.

(you look your best when he's laid his claim on you.)

"are you alright?" he asks, keeping a close eye on your trembling form before he slather your smaller frame with his warmth, the plane of muscles serving as a shield and a reminder that you're safe with him, that he is here to take care of you.

you nod, dewed lashes fluttering up to meet his, "k-kiss—w'nna kiss, gege, please...?"

and of course he'd comply—when you're asking so politely even in this fucked-out state, colliding his lips with yours to devour the cherry-flavored drool that mingles with his own, eliciting a rather juvenile wish from the old man's heart; to stay this close for as long as forever.

[actuallysaiyan]

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, periods/menstruation, bodily fluids, messy, do not READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE PERIODS I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH OKAY????

You’d never done this before. You’ve been with Kento for a while now, and you just never thought you’d be in this position. Sometimes when you’re on your period, you just get so horny. This was no exception this week. You found yourself almost unable to contain your arousal. It was beginning to drive you crazy.

“We can just have sex,” Nanami suggests. He looks up from the magazine he’s reading to see your reaction.

“What do you mean?” You ask, your mouth dry from just the thought alone.

“We can have sex. I could fuck you. You’re horny. What kind of lover would I be to leave you in need like this?”

Your heart flutters. You’ve never felt so aroused in your life. You feel the urge to jump on this man and ride him until you’re both completely exhausted. Logically, you know you need to set this up better than to just jump on him and rip his clothes off.

Kento comes over to you, leaving the magazine on the couch. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a very sweet kiss. Then it soon turns hungrier and more passionate, leaving your cunt throbbing with need.

“Let’s get some towels.”

You follow him to the linen closet and Kento picks out a few old towels that have been shoved to the back. He grabs your hand and leads you into your shared bedroom.

He places the towels over the blankets, making sure everything is covered. Regardless, he doesn’t care if things get too messy. It just gives him an excuse to buy new sheets. Then he looks at you and smirks.

“Undress and get on the bed.”

You remove your clothes slowly, painfully aware of the pad that sticks to your underwear as you throw it on the ground. Something about this is parts arousing but also parts embarrassing. If only to prove that you’re too horny for your own good, the embarrassment seems to make you even more aroused.

You sit on the bed, your legs slightly spread. Kento looks at your cunt, noticing the blood and slick that’s smeared a little on your inner thighs. He’s no stranger to the nature of menstruation, but he’s finding himself very turned on by the thought of fucking you while you’re on your period.

He slowly strips, tantalizing you and making you practically begging for him. Then he grabs the bullet vibrator from the bedside table, turning it on. Just the sounds of it make your body shudder in excitement. He spreads your thighs even more, pressing the vibrator to your needy clit.

The moan that escapes you sounds so pathetic. Kento smirks as he presses the vibrator harder onto your swollen nub. He begins circling it, using the different speed functions to his advantage. His eyes snap down to your dribbling hole. There’s blood tingeing the slick that leaks out of you. 

“Need to get you all ready for me.” He explains to you, even though he knows you’re more than ready for him.

Kento brings you to an orgasm with expertise and ease. The vibrator thrums against your clit so deliciously, making the flames in your lower tummy build until the dam breaks. You cum hard with a loud cry and more of your red tinged slick drips out of your pussy.

He lines his cock up to your hole, watching as it greedily tries to swallow his tip. Your cunt is more than ready to take him, but he just enjoys teasing you. Especially since you’re even more needy than usual. Slowly, he slides into you until he’s balls deep inside you.

A low grunt rumbles from his chest. Nanami had no idea just how much hotter and wetter your pussy would be from your period. The added blood makes things stickier in a way, but it is not unpleasant. In fact, it adds to the pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says as he helps you wrap your legs around him. “Fucking hot, tight and wet.”

You can barely think straight to even answer him. All that comes from your lips now are moans, desperate pleas and pathetic whines. Kento captures your lips in a heated kiss as he begins to fuck you a little harder and faster.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’m gonna cum inside you. Make this bond even deeper…” 

Your nails dig into his back as the tip of his cock slams against your sweet spot. You’re seeing stars as your next orgasm begins building faster and faster. You can’t even imagine lasting longer than a few more seconds of this.

“You know what they say about fucking while the woman is on her period right?” Kento huskily whispers in your ear. “They say it bonds the man and woman for life. Their souls bonded forever.”

You pant like a bitch in heat as your orgasm comes crashing over you. Your tight little walls flutter around him, making Kento grunt. Your slick, bloodied walls are milking him for all he’s got. Another few harsh thrusts and he’s burying himself deep in you so that he can release his load deep inside of you.

Soft cries and pants fill the room as both of you are riding out your high. Kento slowly pulls out, watching his seed leaking out of your hole. The blood mixes with his cum and it causes his cock to harden again. He uses the tip of his cock to push the cum back into you.

“Round two, yeah? You can take it, yeah?”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña

Summary: You've never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day. But when you and Javi celebrate it for the first time together, he goes out of his way to make sure it's everything you want and more.

Pairing: Fiancé!Javier Peña x F!Reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do that pls), face sitting, oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (it's me), PREMATURE EJACULATION, cumming untouched, subby Javi (he is no better than a teenage boy and can barley keep it together bc he is so obsessed with you AH), Javi picks you up to carry you, Javi being a hopeless romantic, sweet, cute fluff bc I said so

A/N: HEYOOOO. It's me, back with our favorite menace couple 🤪 You know damn well Javi goes all out for Valentine's Day, bc Javier Peña is a man in LOVE and the world's biggest softie (I will not be taking counter arguments, it's fact). So in love, in fact, that sometimes, things are finished before they're even started!!! Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all!! 🫣💕 Unbeta'd bc my body won't let me sleep and I'm too exhausted to edit

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

You hated Valentine’s Day. 

Well… Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word strong enough to try and convince Javi that the last thing he needed to worry about doing was going all out for you on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Because for a very long time, all Valentine’s day was for you was just that- another day in the middle of winter. 

For as long as you could remember, you had either spent Valentine’s day alone, wishing you had someone special to share it with, or the person you were sharing it with really didn’t give a shit about you, bought you some chocolate and flowers to cover their ass and called it a day. Your most recent ex had been kind enough to follow your request about not making the holiday anything special by forgetting about it completely and ditching you to go to a hockey game with his friends and then drunkenly calling you to come pick him up that night. 

It was safe to say that Valentine’s day really didn’t mean much to you at all, or at least you thought it wouldn’t, until you’d met Javier Peña- A man who had quite literally bumped into you and proceeded to change the course of your life for the better and found yourself falling head over heels for, so much so, that it didn’t take you long to realize there was no one else that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with than him- leaving your first Valentine’s day together also the first time celebrating the holiday with your fiancé, now that the two of you had gotten engaged. It also meant your first of many years of having to convince Javi that he really didn’t need to do anything special for you to celebrate, and that just getting to spend time with him was more than enough for you. 

Unfortunately, it was not good enough for Javi. 

“Baby, I’m being serious, I promise I do not care. I would be happy if all we did was got pizza and watched TV together. All I wanna do for Valentine’s Day is just spend time with you. I don’t need a random weekday in February for you to prove that you love me, I think you’ve already proven that, Jav.” You laughed, pausing from washing dishes to pull your left hand out of the kitchen sink to point to the engagement ring on your finger. You found yourself now laughing even harder at Javi’s audible sigh as he snuck behind you, flushing his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, practically feeling the weight of his signature puppy dog pout drooping on you. 

“I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m not gonna not do anything. And you deserve much more than pizza.” Javi sighed, pressing a kiss on your cheek, squeezing you in his grasp just a little tighter, making you giggle as he flipped you around to face him, caging you under his broad body against the kitchen counter. “You have to let me do something for you, Hermosa.” 

“I don’t know Jav, pizza does sound really good. You really think you’re gonna be able to top pizza?” You teased, raising your eyebrow at him and sporting a sarcastic smirk as he rolled his eyes at you. 

“Oh shut up, you dork. Seriously, Osita. I totally get if you don’t wanna do anything big, but, I am not doing nothing for my beautiful fiancé on Valentine’s Day. You deserve it. How about this? If you don’t wanna go out, then I am making us reservations here at Restaurant Peña.” 

“Oh, Restaurant Peña? They must be new around here, never heard of them before. Does the chef take requests?” You smirked, biting down on your lip to keep your goofy grin from growing between your cheeks, only giggling more as Javi leaned in to pepper ticklish kisses across your face. 

“Normally, no, but I have a feeling the chef can make an exception for you.

“Does the chef make pizza?” 

“The chef will make fucking pizza if you want pizza.” Javi laughed, rolling his eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around in a fit of laughter before setting you down on top of the kitchen counter, slotting himself in the open space in between your legs and digging his fingers into your hips. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll make it for you.” 

“You choose, Chef Peña. Surprise me.” 

“Hermosa, you hate surprises.” 

“Well, then whatever you’re making better be good.” You shrugged, cocking your head to the side with a smug grin. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that.” 

“Yeah, no shocker there. Seriously though, thank you, Javi. This is really sweet of you. You know you don’t-”

Cutting you off, Javi brought his lips to yours, cradling your jaw as he swallowed the rest of your sentence, making your heart flutter from the electric kiss your fiance had just given you to politely shut you up. 

“I know I don’t. But I want to. Te amo, tozuda (I love you, stubborn).” 

“I love you too, pendejo (jerk). Now help me down, I have dishes to finish and a menu to plan for Laredo’s newest top chef.” 

As you pulled up to the parking lot of your apartment, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Javi had already beat you home to get a head start on your Valentine’s Day dinner, laughing to yourself in disbelief, wondering how you had gotten so lucky that you had found someone that genuinely cared this much about making something so special just for you. 

As you fumbled for your keys and pushed open your front door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence. 

He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless.  

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi amor.” He cooed, now pulling away from his embrace to reach behind you for the bouquet of daisies that had been hiding on the entryway table, handing them over to you with another peck on the cheek. 

“Javi, these are, baby, these are beautiful. Did you- you left work early just to do all this?”  You grinned, burying your nose in the flowers before looking around the living room to admire the setup Javi had prepared for the two of you, finally meeting his soft, sweet gaze staring down at you. 

“Maybe. You’re Restaurant Peña’s first customer, wanted to make a good impression. Speaking of which, dinner is almost done, and as much as I would love to do nothing but stand here and kiss you, the chef doesn’t want to be the first meal he serves to be burned to a crisp.” 

“Well in that case,” You paused, giggling as you pressed up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his plush lips, “I better go change for this classy event. Can’t wait to see what the chef has in store.” 

Handing your flowers back to Javi, you set down the rest of your things from work, and quickly scampered back towards your bedroom, peeking back out of the doorway to shoot Javi a quick wink, making him quietly laugh to himself as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head, trying to hide the completely lovestruck smirk plastered all over his face before heading back to the kitchen. 

Gently closing the door behind you, your face mirrored Javi’s, heat creeping through your cheeks, grinning to yourself as you made your way to your dresser, starting to shuffle through your top drawer, looking for personal Valentine’s Day gift for your fiancé that had been hidden away under your folded piles of socks and underwear. 

After digging for a few moments, you felt the lacy texture running through your fingers, pulling out the new lingerie set you had bought a few days ago to surprise Javi with. You quickly shimmied out of your work clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket next to your bed before slipping the delicate fabric over your body. Although this wasn't the first time you had surprised Javi with an outfit like this, you’d never get over his awestruck reaction, watching his eyes grow wide with his hungry gaze, ravishing in every inch of you, barley keeping himself together enough even remain coherent as you revealed yourself to him. 

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you pulled one of your nicer, fitted black dresses out of your closet, hiding the matching red bra and thong held up by the lacy garters around your thighs, quickly touching up your hair and makeup from your long work day before making your way back out into the kitchen to greet Javi, back turned to you as he picked up two plates off the counter to bring to the table, nearly dropping them in the process as he turned around to see you standing in front of him. 

“Fuck me…” He muttered under his breath, his jaw nearly dropping as he gave you another once over after looking you up and down, having to shake his head to snap himself back to reality, having enough sense to set his plates full of food down on the table before they ended up on the floor. “Baby, you look- fuck, you look fucking stunning.” 

“I heard Restaurant Peña’s a nice place, figured I should dress for the occasion. Plus,” You smirked, taking the few steps to close the space between you and Javi, draping your arms over his shoulders and pressing up on your tiptoes to giggle in his ear, “I heard the chef here is really sexy. I’m really hoping that he’s free after dinner so I can treat him to some dessert.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ… Hermosa, if you keep talking like that, we’re not gonna make it to dinner.” Javi groaned, biting down on his lip as he looked down at your mischievous grin, letting out another deep breath as his hands traveled down the curves of your waist, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, kneading it over the fitted fabric covering it. “Fuck… can we just skip dinner and go straight to des-” 

“Javi! No! You made me this whole delicious meal, I am not letting you skip this because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, giving Javi a playful nudge, taking a step back to cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him to tease him, even you knew damn well you would have been more than happy to give in to Javi’s plan, but the gurgle in your stomach and the inkling you were going to need some energy for the night ahead gave you enough logic to at least have some rational thinking left in your brain. 

“Fine…” Javi sighed, holding up his hands in defense, laughing at your sassy remark, stepping back to the table to put both your plates in their rightful spots before making his way over to your chair to pull it out for you, leaning down to whisper in your ear as you sat down, the hot breath of his words dancing across your neck as he spoke. “Can you blame me when you look like this? You keep fucking teasing me like that, Hermosa, and dessert’s about to get very interesting.” 

You could feel the rasp of his voice shoot straight to your core, your thighs instinctively clenching together to try to keep the ache growing between your legs at bay, letting the softest moan escape from your lips, using every ounce of brain power you had left to try and conjure up some sort of response. 

“Yeah? Is that a threat or a promise?” 

“Depends, which one do you want it to be?” 

“Whatever the chef wants.” 

Although the dinner that Javi had cooked was absolutely delicious, after adding a few glasses of wine during your meal to the already thick and palpable sexual tension in your kitchen was not helping either of your causes, the two of you probably rushing through eating much faster than you had intended to when the night had begun. 

Taking the final sips left in your glass and watching the last bits of your plate cleared, all your inhibitions had been thrown out the window, giving Javi longing look as you stood up out of your chair, pushing in your seat and slowly slinking your way over to Javi, lifting your leg over his lap as you straddled him in his spot, your hands slowly running up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt and carefully unbuttoning button by button as you nipped at his ear. 

“So, are you ready for dessert? I think I have a treat for you that you’re gonna like.” You rasped, trailing kisses across his neck and jaw, your lips meeting his in an electric passion, catching the muffled moan escaping his mouth as you began swirling your hips feeling the bulge beginning to grow in his pants. 

“Fuck… Yeah? You gonna tell me what it is, huh, Hermosa?” Javi groaned, his hands wrapping around your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pressing you down further into his crotch, making you whine as you felt his hard length beneath you rubbing against you, only fueling the fire burning in your stomach and the wet patch growing in your underwear. 

“Why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out.” 

You could barley finish your sentence before Javi was tightening his grip around you, standing up out of the chair to lift you up as he stood, carrying you to the bedroom as you stumbled down the hallway, becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth as the back of Javi’s knees finally hit the bed, situating you back in his lap. His hands roamed relentlessly over your body, letting his hands creep up your thighs, pushing up your dress high enough to stop in his tracks as he felt the lace of your garter band, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the realization of what treat you had to offer for him. 

“Oh fuck… Baby, are you- what do you have on under here?” He asked, breathlessly, very clearly knowing the answer before he had even asked the question, his hands now pushing further up your legs, his fingers dancing across the delicate waistband of your thong as he looked up at you with his pleading brown eyes, now growing darker and darker with lust. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi.” You mewled, reaching behind you to unzip the back of your dress, letting it fall of your shoulders and reveal the red bustier underneath, the floral, lacy pattern leaving very little to the imagination, and leaving Javi’s jaw to practically drop to the floor as you showed off your hidden outfit. 

“Osita… Fuck… This all for me, sweet girl? Jesus Christ.” he practically whispered to himself in disbelief, soaking in every inch of you as you stepped of back off his lap to let your dress fall to the floor, unveiling your lingerie in its entirety in front of him. Letting his elbows rest on his knees, he brought his hand over his mouth, gaping open in awe, soon balling his hand into a fist and biting down on his knuckle as you slowly turned around in a circle, showing off all angles of yourself before meeting Javi’s gaze again, smirking to yourself at the incomprehensible mess your fiance had become. 

“You like it?” You giggled, raising a knowing eyebrow at Javi as you stepped back towards him, running your hands up his strong thighs hanging over the edge of the bed, letting your fingers barley brush over the undeniable tent in his pants, teasing at his belt buckle before dragging your hands back down, resting on his knees. 

“Y-yeah, I- yeah, fuck.” Javi gulped, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to find a way to string together a coherent sentence as you let your fingers trace over his legs and crotch, melting into a puddle under your touch. 

“Yeah? I had a feeling.” You smirked, now palming at the bulge in his pants more firmly, eliciting another audible moan from Javi, his breath becoming heavy and shaky as you sat yourself back over his lap, your ass resting perfectly on top of his erection as you began to slowly swirl your hips over his. Your hands worked their way down the rest of the buttons of his shirt, creeping between the parted fabric to rest your hands on his bare chest, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you sucked at his pulse point, whispering against his skin. “You gonna be a good boy and let me take care of you, baby?” 

There were few times in his life where Javier Peña had found himself at a complete loss for words, but you had him wrapped around your finger as you sat in his lap, all dressed up just for him, whispering sweet praises in his ear did something to him that even he couldn’t quite comprehend. Truth be told, the only thought he could process right now was the all too familiar clench in his stomach and tightening in his balls leaving him on the verge of busting in his pants before you had even touched him. 

Scrunching his face in concentration, Javi nodded rapidly as his hands dug a bruising grip into your hips, every grind of your ass against his crotch only tightening the undeniable knot in his gut. Javi was convinced he’d be strong enough to keep it in check, as long he could use every ounce of his being to focus on not falling apart. But that was before you decided to fight dirty and press every button you knew to make Javi absolutely crumble. 

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me, baby. You want me to touch you, Javi? Let me make you feel good, sweet boy.” You cooed, nipping at his ear as your hands ran through the thick, dark curls of his hair before sliding down the width of his broad shoulders, sliding his shirt down his arms and gripping around his biceps as you sunk your hips deeper and deeper into his lap. 

Before he even had time to process what was happening, Javi found himself instinctively bucking his hips up into you, holding on to you for dear life as he let out an absolutely wrecked moan, slumping his head into your shoulder as you felt a warm, wet sensation begin to spread below you. 

“Fuck… Fuck me…” He whispered, silently cursing himself over his shallow breathing, making you pause in confusion as you looked down at Javi, taking a moment to quickly piece together in your brain what had just happened. 

Javi had just cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. 

“Javi…Javi, did you just-” 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry. Fuck me.” Javi grimaced, running his hand over his face, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling, his cheeks turning red in pained embarrassment, not even able to bring himself to make eye contact with you until you brought your hand under his cheek, gently cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze onto you, locking his lips in an intense kiss before either of you had the chance to speak. 

“Well, that’s a first.” You giggled, trying your best to lighten Javi’s clearly distraught mood, feeling his pouty frown through your kiss. “Javi, it’s okay, we can just- Oh!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s back was to the bed, dragging your body across his chest until you were straddling just below his shoulders, his hands digging into your ass and pulling you closer towards him. 

“Nuh uh. I just need a few. Lemme make you feel good, baby. Please. Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy, I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up to you, please, Osita.” 

It wasn’t very often that you found yourself like this- you being the one who turned Javi into a whimpering and babbling mess, begging for forgiveness. And even though it was a position you found yourself in often, you very well knew that you were going to take advantage of every last second. 

“Oh yeah? And how are you planning on making it up to me, Javi?” You cooed, cocking your head to the side apathetically, arms crossed over your chest as you sat straddling Javi’s. 

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Fuck, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want. I wanna taste you so bad.” Javi moaned, his sweet, brown eyes pleading with you for just a taste of the arousal that had been steadily pooling between your legs. 

“Yeah?” You paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a passionate kiss, your teeth tugging at his plush bottom lip as you pulled away to nip at his jaw, “and what if I still want you to fill me up after you’re done? What if I need you to fuck me full of you?” 

“Jesus fuck…” Javi groaned under his shallow breathing, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Hermosa. I promise.” 

“Good boy.” You mewled, running your hands through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair before shuffling your body so your lace covered and soaking heat was hovering over Javi’s face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit, nudging your panties out of the way. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced your hands by burying them in his hair, tugging at the ends of his thick curls. 

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You cried, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone. 

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning. Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high. 

Dipping his tongue into your hole, his muscle plunged into your cunt, drinking up your arousal while the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit, making good on his promise to redeem himself from earlier, not letting up until he felt your body tense and legs begin to shake as you came again, feeling about as sturdy as a pile of jello at this point. 

Your body went slack, draping your upper half over Javi’s body as you felt his face free from out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin and pleading eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gazing back up at you. 

You had caught your breath enough to sit yourself back up, looking over your shoulder to see the bulge in Javi’s pants was back in full force, slowly scooting your way down his chest and stomach to sit yourself back on his lap, grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you began to gently tug at the straps of your bra, letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further. 

“You think you’re ready for me, baby? You’re gonna be a good boy and fill me up like you promised? You smirked, slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor and leave your top completely bare. 

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.  

“Good.” You smirked, “Gotta ask nicely, though.” 

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his pants down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had left additional stains on his boxers, mixing with his premature spend from earlier. 

“Hermosa, please. Please, baby. I need you to fuck me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft. 

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the arousal that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him. 

With his shaft sufficiently slick, the both of you gasped as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. Can’t wait to feel you dripping down my thighs. Gonna keep me full of you all night.” 

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly. 

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.” 

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone again. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your bedroom as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.” 

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.” 

It wasn’t often that you had seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom, and holy shit, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Javi had already cum once without you even touching him, and now, he was so worked up he was teetering on the brink of falling apart again. 

In a frantic desperation, Javi sat himself up, caging your chest against his, wrapping his arms around your back as he held you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck, sweaty curls of his hair resting against your shoulder, while he fucked up into you, each thrust becoming reckless than the last.  

“Oh fuck, Javi, fuck, don’t stop- fuck, fuck, I’m gonn-ahhhhh” 

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as you felt your body go numb, euphoria flowing through your veins while Javi fucked you through your high, quickly chasing his own. 

“That’s it baby. Fuck, Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” Javi quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside your pussy, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, his body still slumped into yours until you began running your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look back up at you, the blissed out grins on both your faces making you let out a quiet laugh of surprised disbelief at what had just happened. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier Pena.” You giggled, cupping his face, tilting it up towards yours and locking his lips in a long and tender kiss. 

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby. Fuck, that was hot. Sorry, uh- sorry about earlier.” He sighed sheepishly, gesturing over to the very thoroughly stained pair of pants now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

“It’s okay. Definitely a good confidence booster if me putting some lingerie on for you is enough to make you blow your load faster than a middle school boy.” You snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge as he rolled his eyes at you, letting out a little sigh. 

“Shut up. You have no fucking idea. God, you’re so fucking sexy, you know that? I can’t believe you get to be my Valentine for the rest of my life. I’m a lucky fucking man, I’ll tell you that much.” 

“I could say the same, handsome. I love you, Javi. Alright, what do you say we go clean up so we can have real dessert. I have a whole plate full of cookies left over from our class party, along with some very questionable candy from several 3rd graders.” 

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

[theowritesstuff]

Yours No More

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader

Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint

Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon

Sobachka - puppy

Moi tsarevich - my prince

Moi tsar - my king

SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS

When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.

You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.

While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.

You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.

He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.

If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.

He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.

“How do I look?” He asked you.

“Different.” You nodded.

“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.

“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”

He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”

“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”

He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”

You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”

“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Am I what?”

“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.

Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.

“Come in.” Nikolai called.

Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”

Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.

You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.

“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.

You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”

“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.

“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”

“I would.”

Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.

He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.

“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.

“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.

“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.

You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”

“Privateer. It’s an-”

“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.

Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.

“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.

“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.

You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.

“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”

He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.

“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.

He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.

Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.

When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.

You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.

Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.

Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.

“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.

It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.

“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.

Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.

You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.

Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.

He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.

You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.

You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.

He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.

He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.

Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.

She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.

“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.

You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

He nods and takes a deep breath.

“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”

Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.

When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.

You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.

“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.

He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”

“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.

“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.

You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.

You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.

“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.

He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.

The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.

Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.

“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.

“The king.” Zoya corrects her.

“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.

Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”

You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.

Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.

You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.

“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.

“Moi tsar-”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.

“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.

He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.

You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”

He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”

You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I promise.”

You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.

Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”

You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”

You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.

After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.

“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”

Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”

Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.

“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”

You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.

Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.

“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.

You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.

“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”

She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.

You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.

“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.

She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”

“He doesn’t-”

“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”

You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?

“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”

You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.

Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.

Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.

Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.

When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.

“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.

“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.

Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.

“Now, you know sacrifice.”

“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”

“Indeed. Look what it did.”

You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.

“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”

You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.

You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.

“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.

After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.

Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.

There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.

You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.

“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.

“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.

“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.

You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.

His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.

“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.

He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”

You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.

“It seems you need it more than I do.”

“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.

His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.

You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”

He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”

“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.

“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

“But Alina-”

“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”

“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.

He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”

You can’t fathom doing any of that.

“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”

A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”

Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.

[yexthiccxa]

Secrets of the Second Shift - (Part 2)

summary: you're still reeling from an unforgettable friday night (read part 1), but monday rolls around and you have a new set of problems and being attracted to choso is one of them.

wordcount: 3.8k words

full fic c/w: choso smut, choso/fem!reader, choso/oc, modern!au, some plot, plot what plot, porn with plot, gentleman!choso, soft!choso, praise kink, blindfold sex, oral, fingering, vaginal sex, enemies to lovers, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms

a/n: also open to a taglist for this one so lmk if you'd like to be on it (: this is my first wip so i will try my best to keep it updated regularly!

Tumblr Master List | Read this chapter on AO3!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

Monday rolls around and you’re still uneasy. You wake up for work and let your body move on autopilot: get ready, eat breakfast, drive to work. Typically you feel refreshed when you go through the routine, but lingering thoughts from Friday’s encounter paired with the anticipation of work has your mind racing.

What is going on? This is completely unlike you. You’re composed, calculated, you always have a plan. But now it seems like all of that has gone out the window.

You try to rid your memory of your mystery man but it doesn't seem to shake. You can’t help but recount your thoughts:

✦✧✸✧✦

“So much for no strings,” he mutters, almost to himself. “This is gonna be harder than I thought and we've only just begun.”

You internally sigh—scared that you might agree.

You bury the thought with a quick reply as you switch positions to climb on top of him, “The only thing that should be hard right now is your dick, and the only place your dick should be right now is my mouth. Let’s warm you up for round two, shall we?”

“You’re a goddamn vixen, aren’t you?” he rasps.

You skim your fingers from his chest and to his lats, using the ridges of his body to guide you down before settling near his manhood. You slip off the condom and he takes it from you—tossing it into the waste bin next to the bed.

You polish off the remaining liquid off his tip causing him to shudder from the overstimulation.

“Fuck—oh. Fuck that feels so g—” 

✦✧✸✧✦

“—Good? Excuse me?”

A voice sends you back to reality as you realize you’ve made it to the elevator of Zenin Tech. In the opposite corner of the cramped space, a man is staring at you, his eyes are dark and direct.

“Hey, are you good?” he repeats, his tone steady.

“Huh? Wha—yeah, I’m fine,” you stammer, refocusing your thoughts and trying to ignore the heat rising to your face.

“I didn’t mean to bother you—but you didn’t press a button. Which floor?”

“Oh, right. Nine, please.” You glance at the panel, realizing the button is already glowing. Odd. You’ve never seen him before.

He gives you a soft smile before leaning back against the railing.

The ride to the ninth floor stretches on, each passing second weighed down by the heavy silence of the elevator. But that’s nothing new. What is new, however, is the man across from you.

He’s tall—broad shoulders and a lean frame that seems effortlessly composed. His jawline looks like it was carved from marble, and his dark, shoulder-length hair casually falls back, leaving a few stray baby hairs to perfectly frame his face. He has a scar over his nose and his eyes are deep and unreadable. There’s something about him that tugs at you, a force so intense you’re afraid of slipping into a place you know you shouldn’t—like desire.

Maybe this man is the kind of distraction you need, you half-heartedly hope. Sometimes all it takes is one good fuck to reset your system.

From the opposite side, you see one of his arms pinning a file box to his side, while the other has a firm hold on his laptop. You find yourself gesturing toward it as an icebreaker.

“Are you one of the new members from CurseCore?”

When his eyes meet yours, they give you nothing but his undivided attention. He pauses, taking you all in and wondering if you were a gift sent from the gods. He doesn't break the connection immediately, letting the silence stretch just enough for the tension to thicken between you. Little do you know, he’s also trapped in a memory of someone he’s desperately trying to forget.

The corner of his mouth quirks up—not quite a smile, but enough to catch your attention. “Yeah, Pleasure to meet you. I’m Choso.” 

You tell him your name, though it feels like a formality—your mind is too preoccupied with the sound of his voice. I’m Choso. The richness rings with a strange familiarity that you can’t quite place.

Choso tries to extend his hand to shake yours but the box slightly fumbles. “Sorry. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little tied up here.”

You laugh lightly, the sound cutting through the awkward tension. “No worries. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of chances to meet again.”

He glances at you, his lips forming that same restrained smile. “I look forward to that.”

The heat in your core begins to simmer before the elevator dings, pulling you both back into focus as the doors slide open.

Choso steps out and immediately a hoard of new faces flock to him, forcing you to weave to the sides. A wave of chatter fills the entryway.

"Where do we set up our laptops?"

"What’s the Wi-Fi password?"

“Are desks first come, first serve?”

“How do we pick up our ID badges?”

You almost step in to give the new guy a break, but his voice cuts through the noise before you can utter a word. “Everyone, relax.” The word hangs in the air like a command, and almost instantly, the buzz fizzles into silence. He scans the crowd with a steady gaze. “Let’s take this one at a time,” he continues, his tone calm yet authoritative.

You watch him—proper, composed, and directing the newbies with calm precision. Every gesture is smooth, controlled. His focus is laser-sharp. There’s a confidence in the way he moves, like he’s been doing this for years, but there’s also something irresistible that keeps pulling you in.

A friendly voice pops up behind you. “Whoa, the new guy can tame me like that any day” Yuki says, her eyes fixed on him too.

“You know, if we weren’t good friends you would be a walking HR complaint,” you joke with her.

“Can you blame me though? He’s gorgeous.”

You let out a snicker, because you can’t help but agree. Not only is he gorgeous, but assertive too. It’s not every day that you come across a man who can take charge without coming across as a self-absorbed dick (ahem Naoya). As the thought begins to fade, you know that somewhere deep down, Yuki is right— you’d love to let him tame you too.

You both walk past the flood of people, but your sight remains secured on Choso. In the sea of bodies, he catches your eye. Most would look away, but you both hold the stare, just for a moment—like a silent, playful challenge meant only for two. He can’t hide the subtle flicker in his gaze as it drops briefly to take in your curves. It’s a look that’s equal parts fiery and possessive, the kind that whispers I want to devour you .

The thought makes your heart beat out of your chest, causing your cheeks to flush. You break the gaze first, eyes darting away.

 “Choso,” you whisper under your breath, as if your daydream has swept you away.

“What’d you say?” Yuki’s voice pulls you back.

“Choso,” you clear your throat. “His name is Choso,” you answer—returning to your composed self.

“Choso,” she repeats, as the pieces fall into place. “Oh yeah! The manager from CurseCore. They say he's the full package—cool, calm, professional. I’ve heard he runs his team with this… almost zen-like efficiency. Super smooth. The kind of guy you can't help but respect.”

You feel your stomach drop at the realization. Great. So this is the guy who’s gunning for your promotion. Unfortunately for you, Choso is the perfect little corporate robot. Even worse, given Naoya’s history, you’re certain he’s already made up his mind.

Yuki blabbers on, “They say everyone loves him, but what they failed to mention was that he’s also a fuckin’ heartthrob.”

“First off, HR. Second off, how do you even know all that?” you ask.

“Well, you would know that too if you joined any of our Friday Happy Hours,” she teases.

Ah, right… the mere mention of Happy Hour makes your chest tighten. Sure, they’re filled with harmless office gossip, but one too many drinks could lead to one little slip that could unravel everything. You’ve worked too hard to keep the lines between your two worlds from blurring—and you’re not about to let happy hour small talk be the thing that blows it all apart.

"Hard pass," you say, keeping your tone light, but there’s an edge of finality to it. "I have better things to do than waste my time schmoozing up to Naoya."

Yuki smirks knowingly. "Okaaaay, but you know that schmoozing will help you get your promotion. Don’t think I didn’t put two and two together.”

Her words cut through you because you know she’s right.

A self assured smile wipes across her face. “And who knows, with the two teams merging, maybe we’ll get to see a little more of Choso, " she adds, nudging your shoulder.

"I think I’ll survive," you reply, though her sentiments echo in your head. You can’t help but wonder if skipping out has truly cost you an edge with Naoya—especially now that Choso is in the picture."

Speak of the devil. Naoya appears from around the hall and calls the whole team into the conference room. As you migrate to the room, you see windows lining opposite sides. The exterior windows face the gorgeous view of the city. The interior windows face the common area of the office. After everyone packs into the room, Naoya clicks a button that instantly turns the glass from clear crystal to an opaque frost—obscuring the view beyond it. The iconic click is always a sign that the meeting is in session.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Naoya began, his tone sharp and authoritative.

In the far end of the room, you notice two voices coming from a pink-haired man and a redheaded woman, both unfamiliar and completely oblivious to Naoya’s growing irritation. From the opposite end, you hear Choso clear his throat and turn his head ever so slightly to the giggling pair. 

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to.

The look he gave them was surprisingly soft, but still unwavering, a silent command for order. The chatter instantly dies with the two culprits shrinking under his gaze. After the tension dissolves, Naoya picks up where he left off.

From your seat, you can’t help but watch Choso, your eyes lingering on the quiet power in his demeanor. It’s not just his composure—it’s the effortless way he commands respect without ever raising his voice. You hate that it stirs something in you.

You notice the way he leans back in his chair, effortlessly exuding confidence as one arm drapes over the armrest. This position allows you to see the subtle flex of his bicep. Your eyes trail down his arm until your view jumps to get a glimpse of the muscles on his thighs. Dirty thoughts fill your mind when you think about what lies in between.

Wait, stop.

Your attraction goes head-to-head with your instincts. He’s competition, you remind yourself, shifting in your seat to refocus on the meeting. Remember: he’s here to climb the same ladder as you, and if you lose focus, you might as well hand him the next rung. You didn’t claw your way this far to let a pretty face throw you off balance.

Keep your head in the game. Keep your emotions in check. And definitely don’t let anyone, no matter how charming they are, shake your confidence.

After Naoya concludes the meeting, Choso approaches you as everyone else gathers their things, his presence quiet but commanding.

“Hey, I didn’t realize you were the other manager. I think I should properly introduce myself this time,” he says, extending a hand. His voice is the type of rich that makes it impossible to ignore him.

You tilt your head, your lips curving into a neutral smile. “No need, I got the gist earlier,” you say, nodding at him but ignoring his hand. “Welcome to the team.” You weave past him and walk down the hallway towards your next meeting.

He promptly follows you down the hall, confused. “Forgive my assumptions, but did I do something wrong?”

You stop to face him, when you realize how much he towers over you. You tilt your head only to find that your eyes land straight on his lips. Focus.

You sigh. “Listen, it’s no secret that we’re fighting for the same promotion. What you don’t know, but I do , is that you have a 99.9% chance of getting it. So until I am satisfied with the fact that I’ve given it my all, you and I are enemies.” You return to your route, hoping to leave this conversation as soon as possible.

“How do you—” trails behind you before keeping up with your stride. “Nevermind. Being enemies is a bit harsh to start with, don't you think? We’re all on the same team here.” 

“We are for now—at least until you get promoted.” You hesitate. “Then I’d have to work under you.”

His brow raises, as a devious smile spreads across his face. “I can assure you being under me wouldn’t be the worst thing .”

The thought makes your core swell. Without thinking you drop your guard. “But you see, Choso… I’d prefer to be on top —professionally speaking.”

You’re steps away from the meeting room but he stops you just short of the doorway. “Hmm. that’s a very appealing offer, I accept.” he teases. “Shall we sort out an arrangement over dinner?”

You catch a glimpse of sincerity in his eyes. Is he actually trying to make a move or is this all just for show? You can’t help but feel your cheeks flush. Though his confidence sends butterflies to your stomach, you decide to stay true to your resolve.

“Let me be clear—If you want to talk about work, you can schedule some time on my calendar. Otherwise, you should know that I have no interest in mixing business and pleasure.” As the words leave your mouth, you immediately start to wonder if you’re gonna regret your decision.

“Very well,” he playfully concedes, but the spark in his eye tells you that it’s far from over. As he takes a step to unblock your path, you feel the warm sensation of his fingers wrap around your waist.

You’re close enough to breathe in his cologne. It’s a known fragrance that you can’t quite place, but smell instinctively triggers a rush of liquid in between your legs.

He lowers himself until his breath dances around the tip of your ear. His whisper is low enough for only you to hear, “For the record, I have no issue being under you, on top of you… or even inside you ” he clears his throat before returning to his normal posture. “—professionally speaking, of course.” 

His remark left you speechless. You hesitated before finally replying, “I’ll file that under ‘things to pretend I didn’t hear.’”

He retreats back into the hallway as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on your heart. “I can say it again if you’d like,” he quips back.

You shake your head in amusement, trying your best to hide your smile. “Goodbye, Choso.”

“See you soon.” He turns his back to continue walking, tossing his hand in a casual farewell. 

You step into the meeting room, unable to wipe the stupid grin off your face. For the first time in two days, the uneasiness you’d been carrying around was nowhere to be found, leaving you to wonder what caused it in the first place.

✦✧✸✧✦

“Back up…he did WHAT?” Yuki blurted out in pure disbelief.

You winced, glancing around to make sure no one heard her outburst. “Shh, keep it down.”

After your final meeting of the day, you and Yuki decided to hang back in the conference room a bit longer so you could tell her what happened.

By the looks of it, she could barely contain her excitement. “Sorry, but this is huge. I can’t believe he actually tried to ask you out.”

You mentioned the dinner, but conveniently skipped over the specifics—for obvious reasons.

“Okay so when’s it’s happening?”

You look away, ashamed to tell her. “It’s not happening”

She grabs your face with both hands and turns your head back to get your attention. “What do you mean it’s not happening?”

You swipe her hands away and groan, rolling your eyes. “You know he’s my biggest competition right now and I can’t afford any distractions.”

Yuki gives you a pointed look, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Please. You think letting him chase you will distract you, of all people? If that’s the case you’re selling yourself really short.”

Leave it to Yuki to be your ultimate hype woman.

“You know you’re smarter than that. I’m sure you can handle a little fun and still crush it at work.”

“But—” you start, but Yuki cuts you off.

“No but—you’re overthinking it. He obviously wants you. And you’d be crazy to not want him, so why not go for it?” She leans in, her voice softening. “Look, you deserve a little excitement. You’ve already been working your ass off. Don’t let this slip away just because you’re scared to have a little fun.”

You know she’s right but you don’t want her to hear it.

You don’t need to say it though because she already knows. “Plus, if he likes you enough, maybe he’ll just give it to you,” Yuki adds.

A puzzled look forms on your face. “Ok, What does that mean?”

“You know…he falls madly in love with you, heroically declines the promotion and tells Naoya that you should get it instead. It happens in all the books and movies.”

You pause, shocked at the mere possibility of that thought. That goes against everything you’ve ever worked for. “Yuki, that’s messed up. I don’t want to get it because some man says I can have it. I want to get it because I deserve it.”

She leans back in her chair with a shrug. “Hey, I’m just saying—crazier things have been done for pussy,” her tone is easygoing.

You laugh as you get up from your seat, “Ok, I think this is my sign to go home.”

After Yuki waves goodbye, you head back to your desk to gather your things—hoping to catch Choso before he leaves for the day. No luck. He’s already gone. As you put on your coat, your conversation with Yuki replays in your mind. Are you really going to give him a chance? Every longing ache in your body screams yes, but your mind stubbornly says no.

I mean, what’s the worst that can happen when you have a little fun?

You reach the elevator just in time, sliding your hand between the doors just before they close. Stepping inside, you catch your breath when you see Choso standing there.

He leans his tall frame casually against the wall, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other holding a phone he doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours, and in an instant, the air feels heavier. There is a faint hum of people packing up for the day, yet it seems deafening in the silence between you.

Your heart pounds erratically, a war drum echoing in your chest as your mind scrambles for something to say. Anything. But your tongue is heavy, and all you can do is step further inside, keeping your gaze fixed him.

The doors close with a soft thud, locking the two of you in the confined space. The proximity, the tension—it’s suffocating, exhilarating. You can feel his presence pulling your focus no matter how hard you try to resist.

He finally breaks the silence. “Hmm. You weren’t lying earlier when you said we’d have plenty of chances to meet,” he teases.

You smile at him, remembering your first encounter from the morning. The weight between you seems to lighten. “I’m sorry about earlier,” you manage to get out. As an act of truce, you extend your hand and say, “I think I’d like to properly introduce myself this time.”

As you tell him your name, he can’t help but keep his focus locked on you. The fire in your eyes ignites him as he tries to press down every filthy thought that runs through his mind: What do you taste like? What do you feel like? What do you sound like when I make you moan?

He subdues his thoughts just enough to say, “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Ch—”

As he looks down to return your handshake, he pauses—his eyes widen in disbelief. He notices three delicate stars placed between your thumb and pointer finger. He hadn’t meant for it to linger in his mind, but now, it’s all he can focus on.

Memories flood him and he remembers the softness of your skin when he pressed his lips on it, the way your fingers would glisten with wetness when they slid into your pussy, and especially the way his hands guided you towards an earth shattering release. After replaying those moments in his head, he knew he would recognize those hands anywhere.

His filthy thoughts resurfaced, causing a tightness in his jeans. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? What do you sound like when I make you moan? He didn’t need to wonder because he already knew.

When your hands finally meet, there’s an unseen electricity that charges between you. “Well, fuck,” he chuckles with amusement. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”

“Huh?” The warmth between you settles but you tilt your head while your brow furrows in confusion. 

He slightly tightens his grip on your hand to pull you closer and the air begins to thicken. You’re inches away from his face and the heat of his breath sends shivers down your spine. Before you know it, His other hand slides securely to your waist, his touch beginning to feel alarmingly like second nature.

“Choso—?” His name barely escapes your lips before instinct takes over. Your eyes flutter shut, drawn to the overwhelming closeness of him. In the dark all your senses heighten. You notice how the smell of his cologne seems to fill every crevice of the elevator. Then, in an instant, your eyes shoot back open as the revelation hits you— spiced and earthy, just like the one from a few nights ago. 

Stop, wait. It can’t be.

He delicately brings your hand to his lips and the familiar warmth of his kiss tightens the coil in your center. In this moment, the rumble of his voice is absolutely unmistakable, "Hello, my little vixen. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

--

taglist: @makingtimemine

[mrsparrasblog]

All too well

The first chapter to this post

TW: Angst

Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.

They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.

This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Still didn’t quit, love?”

“Still an idiot, I see.”

“You love it, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.

---------------------------------------------------------

“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.

“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”

“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Go away, Price.”

“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.

“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”

“Ouch, kitten has claws.”

“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”

“As if you were able to, little missy.”

------------------------------------------------------------

“Guess we’re working together on this.”

“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”

----------------------------------------------

Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.

“Can you call me John?”

“Why?”

“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“And I hate it,” he admitted.

“Can I ask why?”

“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”

“Not a good relationship with your dad?”

“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”

“I get that.”

“Your old man is shit too?”

“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”

He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”

“We won’t.”

---------------------------------------------------------

When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.

“What did you do?”

“Stupid muppet deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”

“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”

“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”

“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”

“No lucky bloke even tried.”

“Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“John.”

“I said, do you want to lose it?”

“Yes.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”

“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, love.”

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------------

“What do you want, Dad?”

“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

--------------------------------------------------------

“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”

“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.

“I said I don’t love you.”

“But you said yesterday that you love me.”

“Are you really that stupid?”

“John.”

“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”

--------------------------------------------------

SAS Enlisting Test

Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted  

Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted

----------------------------------------------------

“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.

“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”

“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”

“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.

He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.

He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?

“Kate, what do you need?”

“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.

“Yes, why?”

“You know the new colleague I complained about?”

“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.

“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”

“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”

“Deal.”

-----------------------------------------------------

You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.

“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.

“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.

“Yes, why?”

“I told you about Kate.”

“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”

“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”

“Hades, these games are stupid.”

“John Price takes part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.

“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.

“Which of them is Hades' team?”

“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”

“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.

“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.

“There he is.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye  dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”

“An all-girls squad?”

“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.

John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz

A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe

[createdbytragedy]

SIZE KINK WITH SOOBIN

Soobin with a petite darling!!!

'Cause like, we all know this man is over 6 feet and he is GIANT (sweetheart) so here's what I've been thinking; Soobin would absolutely melt when he sees you in his clothes which were 10 sizes too big for you. His t shirts reaching your knees and the neckline almost handing off your shoulders. You looked so cute. He wouldn't mind it. Gladly offering you his clothing even if you didn't really fit in it. Plus, he liked your scent that remained even after you returned it to him.

He would tease you sometimes, of course. Putting his arm on top of your head , patting your head while kneeling down and blowing in your ears just because he can. He would purposefully put the jars and mugs higher in the cabinet so that you'll have to ask for his help when you needed to use one. It gave him a sense of pride knowing you needed him in something. He loves holding your hand. Mainly because he's obsessed with the size difference and he loves the way your soft tiny hands feels against his giant calloused ones. He can't stop smiling and giggling when he sees the he could fit your hands in his fist. He would be the big spoon during cuddles, of course. Wrapping his arms around your waist and caging you with his giant body like he was the dragon guarding the princess. And Soobin kind of feel like that. He had a sense that he had to protect you and he may never voice it but he's ready to put his life on the line for you.

Dom! Soobin would love to have you sit on his lap which was big enough for you to sit comfortably without cramp for hours. He'd like dry humping. Making you grind yourself against his clothed cock and gaining pleasure from seeing your face twist in need and desire. And when you look at him with those teary eyes filled with lust. Lust for him, that's when he loses it.

Everything. From his morals to his self control. Flipping you over on your back, pressing you down to the matress as he pounded on your pussy over and over. So fast, so deep and so rough. The only thing he could of was that he had to make you feel good. Make your face twist in that pleasure that he was giving you.

And when your small finger wrap around his arm, with tears falling from your eyes, telling him to ,"slow down, too much" and he remembers how much smaller you were to him. Laying beneath him, all powerless and just taking whatever he gave you. He almost forgot that his cock was too big for you. Too full, big enough to form a bulge on your tummy that he so adores. And guess what? he smirks. Planting a sloppy, open mouthed kiss on your lips before he's picking up his pace again, fucking you harder so your petite hands were clawing at his back, leaving marks that he liked to stare at in the morning. Over all, Soobin likes it. ................................................... Guys, don't hate me... its been a tough year. Anyways, this has been in my draft for too long. I just added the last line and post. Hope you enjoyed though. Have a good night/day!!

[icarusredwings]

Clean

Separating this from my other works because of the Trigger Warnings. This read my not be for all viewers and is NOT safe for littles. It contains past mentions and discussions of Child SA, child abuse, unintentional SH, panic attacks, and emotional hurt/ comfort.

It's time to get out of the bath, but.. Wade's not clean yet. At least thats what he says.

"Alright. That's done. That's ready. Check, check, okay, now I just need Wade." Setting the plates down on the coffee table, he had even brought him some juice and turned on Beauty and the Beast for them to watch during dinner.

Today had been... Rough.. to say the least. First when he went with Vanessa he had been scolded by a parent to stay away from their child, the arguing between Ness and the parent scared him enough to sit down and put his hands over his ears near a tree, rocking himself.

He must have gotten even more spooked because when someone came to see what was wrong, Wade kicked them in the nose and practically cried all the way home after the incident.

Fortunately, he didn't want to press charges and told Wade he forgave him but to be careful next time. It was a slap on the wrist compared to what trouble he could have actually gotten into. It was one of the reasons Logan was afraid to take him there, knowing he'd lose his temper and be not any help either.

For the last hour or so, Wade has refused to speak to him. Or anyone really, the only word he said was "Bath" multiple times until he was finally put in one. Or rather, one was ran for him.

See, he was big enough (thank god) to take care of himself (mainly) but did enjoy help with his shoes and to be held, etc. It only made Logan wonder how long this has been going on. How many years has he had to do this by himself? Far too many it seemed.

The way it would work was Logan would prepare the Bath while Wade picked out his clothes. He also got to pick what kind of bubbles and small things like that, though mainly, He didn't take care of the water parts (Not ever since he flooded the bathroom).

After it was fully ran, bubbily and warm, Logan would leave him to it. Letting him soak for how ever long he liked and wouldn't open the door unless told too.

Sometimes, when he was itchy, they'd put oats in his bath instead of bubbles, though Logan had to be sure to tell him not to eat the oats or else he would.

It would be more difficult if wade had hair to wash, but since he didn't (obviously) there was no fuss about it.

He didn't need any help scrubbing his legs and arms, his chest, etc. Of course, he would play with his ducks, too. Right now, his favorite was a big mama duck toy who held 3 baby tinier ducks. A gift from Dopinder who knows that Mr. DP likes toys rather then why.

Right now (like many other times) He would come to check on him, putting his ear close to the door and knocking. "Wade?"

"Kid?"

Now ussually, he'd get a response of giggles or "Almost done!" But now he got nothing.

Again, he knocked harder.

Silence. Though he could smell soap. Not the same kind that he remembered putting in. Also a soft scratching sound, as well as a whimper.

"Kid? Dinner's done." He adds this last bit, knowing he was always hungry after the park.

Still nothing.

"Wade. Do... you need help?"

"No!"

'No' was not what was concerned him. What concerned him was the tone he used with it.

"Are you okay?"

Again silence.

He took a breath, sighing as he had a feeling of what he had to do. If he asked to come in, he would just keep saying no. Unfortunately, this was one of those times when "Being a mean ol Kitty" had its advantages.

"Wade? I'm coming in. You sound hurt."

Something that Ness has taught him was to add the 'why' automatically after the direction. That way, he doesn't have to ask, and it makes him more comfortable to be told up front.

"Nooo.." He whined as Logan unclicked the door, slowly opening it only to gasp softly. The water was a very light pink as he saw him applying more soap and scrubbing his arm far too hard.

The area was raw, bright red, irratated, and some blood was dripping down into the tub, but it wasn't the only thing adding to the water. Tears were rolling down his face and snot trying to leave quicker then he could sniffle it up.

"Wade! What are you doing!?" He asks, Stepping into the bathroom to see that a part of his chest was scratched too.

No awnser. In fact, he seemed to scrub harder, almost as if he were panicking.

"Oh Wade..." Taking a few steps forward, He tried to take the brush only for him to scream and punched him the nose.

"Augh!- fuck!" What was with him and noses? Seriously? This was the second time today someone got a new nose job from him.

"No!!" He yelled, shifting in the tub to lean away from him, now starting to scrub at his neck, that now also was starting to bleed a bit.

"Ah- Why did you do that?! Stop! You're going to make it worse!" Logan understood that his skin issues bothered him, but he wouldn't let him do this.

Growling a bit, he grabbed his cheek, pushing him away as he took it, pulling the drain too.

Trying to take it again, he held it close to him and bit him (hard) when he tried to take it from his hands. "Nooo!!" And now that he knew he would fight him on it, He had no choice.

"N-Nooo!!" He screamed, if anything backing away, starting to shake from the cold of the water gone.

Putting them to the side, Logan looked him over, trying to think of any possibility of what was happening. Why the only thing he was shouting at him was No, why he wanted to stay in the tub, and why- even now- he was crying.

"Why did you do this?" He asks, watching as he goes quiet again, staring at him with a still shock of fear.

"Come on. Get out. It's dinner time. I made mac and cheese. You love mac and cheese." He tried to bribe, but Logan was never good at these things.

"NO!" Going as far as throwing a soap bottle at him, Logan put an arm up only for it to hit the wall and bust, beginning to ooze out the conconut smelling liquid.

"Hey!! Don't do that!-"

"I-i'm not done!!"

"How!? You've been in here for an hour already!" The screaming back and forth was fine by him, as long as he kept talking. The more he spoke, the more Logans' hearts sank, especially with what he said next.

"Don't..h-Hur..." It was the last straw, breaking down into a sob as he shook his head. "Please...No." The shaking wasn't just from the cold. He was shutting his eyes tight as if he didn't want to see what would happen next and ws trying everything in his power to stay away from him.

It was now that Logans eyes widdened, swallowing as he had a horrible feeling in his stomach. "No what,...Wade?"

"Please, Kitty... No.." He began to slur and choke on his own hot, thick tears, his skin burning with the sensation that it wasn't before, the sensitive layer being exposed to the air.

"Who." Was all he said. It wasn't even a question, more like a demand. His grumbling through grit teeth making Wade shush from his crying. He was crying so hard that his screams were silent, shaking harder and trying to make himself as small as possible.

"I-i'll be good...I d-don't wanna...!" He spoke this sentence, and instantly, a propane tank worth of anger filled his body, up to his lungs with hatred as he thought about what this meant.

"Who. Wade! Who?! Why!?" Now this was a demand. A demand to know who in their right mind would ever do such a thing to him.

Opening his mouth to speak, he felt nauseous, swallowing it deep in his stomach.. for now.

"K-kevin.." he whispered, a tiniest voice practically strangled out by the lumps in his throat.

"When!? Do I know him?"

He shook his head, ever so slightly trying to hide his face into the side of the tub.

Taking the towel, he threw it over him, as he tried to calm down enough to get him to talk, let alone look him in the eye. He could smell how much fear and confusion he was in. How terrified he was to get out of the tub in fear something bad would happen to him.

Slowly opening an eye, he looked at him from the corner of his eye, pulling the towel around him only for him to start rubbing his skin again with it.

"I-hey! Stop that!" Grabbing his hands again, Wade jumped, pulling away as he began to sob loudly that he was sorry. "Ill be good" "No!" "Bad kitty!!" "I clean it" mixed in with distorted cries, pleas to be let go.

It broke his heart to hear him so scared of him. Honestly, it started making his stomach turn. Did Wade really think he would do that to him? Why would he...? Oh great. Now there was tears in his eyes too.

Hearing the word "Clean" connected the dots*. The reason WHY Wade insisted that he "was a big boy and can do it himself" each bath despite showering with him before. The reason why he was screaming No, and trying to keep away from him. The reason why he punched and threw the soap at him.

"Wade, I-.." Letting go, he groaned, a small whine coming out of him as well as he rubbed his face, trying to keep it together. But how could he? With what he just learned?

Going to walk away to call Ness and ask if she knew anything about this, he stopped, cursing under his breath as he realized the second he left he would just start scrubbing again.

How was he supposed to help him if he couldn't touch him but also watch over him at the same time to be sure he's not hurting himself if he hated being watched in the tub?

Making a loud grunting sound, Wade stopped, looking at him as if trying to analyze if this sound was negative or not. His kitty did grunt a lot, so it wasn't scary, but he was still scared of him. Scared of everyone, actually.

Sighing, he sat on the toilet, putting his head in his hands, thinking. Think! Come on, Logan, you've been around dozens of kids, right? Wrong. He just recently started to warm up to his daughter, a grown woman by now.

If he had his phone he could call or.. I don't know google it? But what would he even type? "My boyfriend was molested 20 years ago, what should I do?" No... no. Come on there has to be something in there. Deep breaths. In... ou-

"Kitty...?"

Looking up, he swallowed, tears running down his face, his own throat tight. "Yeah, Kid..?"

He pointed to the bottle that was half spilled on the floor.

"What? Soap? What about it? The second I came near ya, you chucked it at my head." He mumbled.

"..." Looking at him, Wade blinked. "...Soap?"

He wanted to say,'No, you're not getting anymore soap. It's time to get out' but instead paused. "...Why?"

Ness had said one of the best things to do for a kid was to understand them. He didn't know what she meant by that until now.

"Uhm.. Dirty?" The higher mark at the end gave Logan an opening, a chance. The question of him being dirty was enough.

"You aren't dirty, Wade. You're clean." Logan didn't move from his spot. Not a single inch. He couldn't risk spooking him again. His tears just now were coming to an end.

"But- I..." He was thinking. Logan knew he was. Trying to process the information. "B-but he..."

"I-i know... I know he did." His fist clenched but tried to smile. It came out crooked and kind of awkward as more tears raced over his face like the Nashville Derby. "You're clean, Wade. Good-" he swallowed, trying to ground himself.

"Good job."

Again, Wade was confused. He wasn't good. He just bloodied his second nose for the day (that was already healed up by now) and threw a bottle at him.. that didn't seem good.

Swallowing, more tears came to him, begining to realize what he has done, calming enough to understand. "B-but.. I bad.."

"No!- i-i mean.. No... you're not bad. You did nothing wrong. It's not your fault. None of it was your fault... Im so sorry.." Logan whispered, wiping his eyes.

He wasn't expecting to cry today, but he had a feeling tonight, once all was said and done, they were going to have a long talk later, and he'd cry more in bed.

"S-so... All done?"

Quickly, he nods, "All done... erm.. I-i made us mac and cheese so... get dressed and.. I-ill help with your booboos okay?" He says, about to stand up but decided to wait until told to leave. Any movements would probably send him right back.

To his suprise, Wade got out, Holding his towel tight around him but came to him. Very still. That's how Logan sat as Wade ever so gently touched his face, wiping his tears, tilting his head when more came.

"Kitty...?"

"Yeah, bub?" He muttered, giving him a lopsidded smile, not wanting him to be scared.

"...Are you cry because..." He trailed off, but Logan knew exactly what he meant.

"Y-yeah."

"Why? ...He mean to you?" Pulling his hand away, he seemed so confused about why anyone would care what happened to him. His parents sure didn't.

"No, Bub... but he was mean to you. Right?"

He nods, slowly, ashamed of this.

"Hey- No, You're not introuble.. it's his fault. He's bad. You... you were never bad, Wade. Not ever." He tells him, Putting out a hand for him to hold.

Instead of taking it, Wade hugged his head, petting his head. "Don't cry kitty.."

Loosely putting his arms around him, he sniffled again. "I-ill try, kid... now.. Lets go watch some dancing tea sets, yeah?"

"Okay!" Nodding, Wade picked up his clothes, running off, excited to be clean and to eat with him. Oh, how quickly his moods changed... Logan was going to get whiplash one of these days.

Later, during the movies credits, they sat in silence of one another, Wade's face in the crook of his neck, clearly still ashamed of his actions for the day and his past..

After bandaging and icing his wounds, They sat together for a good 30 minutes, Wade devouring all of his food. Logan didn't eat. His stomach was too turned over to even think about it.

"...Wade?" He says, breaking the silence as he stares off at a random wall, keeping him as close as possibly, letting him wrap his legs around his wasit as he held him.

"..Yuh?"

"..It's not your fault."

"What?"

"It's not your fault."

"I know." He says, but suddenly the room had a stench of a mechanic's shop. Thick gasoline. He lied straight through his teeth.

"Wade... It's not your fault." He says again, beginning to rub his back, feeling him tense up.

"I... know?"

"No- Wade. Litsen to me... It's not your fault. Its theirs. You did nothing wrong." He repeated again, making him start to cry as a single tear fell down Logan's face.

Nodding into him, sniffling, a muffled, strained 'That's why I carry my baby knife. Baby knives protect babies sometimes' came out as he clung around his neck, never wanting to let go.

A minute or two passes. Logan's shirt his wet. Wet wasn't even the right word. More like soaked.

"Is... he dead?"

"Good." He holds the back of his head, begining to rock him, quietly shushing, letting him sob. "Shhh... I got you... I won't let anyone do that to you ever again. I don't care if it kills me.."

"E-even if I throw summer breeze body wash at you again?"

"Even if you throw summer breeze body wash at me." He agreed, feeling him relax a little.

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

"H-hope to die?"

"Even if I die, just wait. Ill find that fucker in hell."

Wade giggled, letting out a sigh as his shoulders dropped, trusting him more than before. He felt... safe.

Hi. If you made it down here, Im proud of you for how far you've come in life, and I am so sorry if you relate to this.. this, uhm.. this one hit a little too close to home for me. So..

*For those who don't understand, Wade didn't 'Clean himself good enough' so kevin 'helped'. It's implied that this was a form of 'punishment' as well as wade feeling dirty from the thoughts seeing as.... nevermind. The unfortunate truth is how ever much you scrub, you can still feel it.

Again. If you understand this, Im so sorry. It is and never will be your fault. 🫶🩷 And I hope Scoutmaster Kevin gets what he deserves with a chainsaw 🥰 Fuck that guy fr

[eccentricallygothic]

Dating Joel Miller

Pairing: Bf!Joel Miller | Reader.

Warning(s): Age gap (reader is in their 20's), allusions to mature activities, mild d/s dynamics, fluff, cg!Joel, Daddy kink, begging, making out. I'll be safe and say minors do not interact.  

Setting: TLOU 2.

He's definitely an experience. 

Single-handedly rocks your world in more ways than one. 

So, so laid-back it's fucking sexy. 

Definitely tames the brat out of you. 

What he says goes because he's older and knows better. 

Or?

You live to learn he was right. 

So smug when that happens.

Not very vocal about his feelings but cares for you so much. 

The littlest of things that can easily be missed, Joel makes a point of remembering.  

Won't ever openly admit it though. 

Tough love in an endearing way.

From your favorite snacks to your preferred clothing, to the kinds of flowers or things you like to collect to getting you food whenever he does for himself and picking out the condiments you dislike to being mindful of the drink you prefer with it, he's got it all covered. 

A total ass when it comes to training and you best believe he doesn't hold back on it. After everything that's happened, he wants you to be prepared for anything and everything. 

Only rolls his eyes and shakes his head when you're being the kid that you are with Ellie and Co. 

Simply snorts when you all tease him for being a geezer. 

Because he knows that all it takes him is one certain look if it goes too far. 

And you are whimpering into your place like a puppy yanked by their leash. 

Besides, you can act all high and mighty as you want, Joel knows that the one who will have you all whiny, grabby and mushy underneath them will be him.

Whenever he wants. 

You're down so bad for him, oh my God. 

He knows it, and that's exactly why he doesn't get riled up when foolish little boys try their luck on you. 

Well, that is, not usually.

Loves to tease you and make you beg after you've acted out all day. 

"Oh, but I thought I was an old man who 'just didn't get' y'all, huh baby?" And you're a quivering, panting mess with your limbs tangled in his. 

Great. Fucking. Kisser.

Hot, sloppy, wet, sense melting, passionate kisses while his calloused hands roam all over you, occasionally squeezing the parts that cause you to make such a huge mess in your pants that he tuts when he feels it through your clothes. 

"Noooo, Daddy…" You're literally aching. 

"Tell me what you want, baby. Say it for Daddy and he will give it to ya" you are a writhing mess as your hips grind against his and you hump yourself on one of his thighs. 

"Please, Daddy… Need you so bad, Daddy… Please use me~" it depends on his mood how he treats you in bed though. 

Some days he could be the most tender lover with gentle caresses, featherlight touches, cotton-soft pecks and passionate love making. 

Other days include him pressing your face down into the mattress as his huge cock hammers in and out of your leaking slit, rough bites littering your skin as you struggle to breathe through the animalistic fucking. 

Nothing gets you to cum harder than when he sometimes wraps his hand around your throat, features stern with all that's taking him not to just obliterate you. 

Some days though, he likes to combine the two styles. 

Eats you out like a starved wolf.

But can take his sweet time with that as well.

Lets out the deepest, most throaty grunts when you suck his dick.

Has a couple ways of reprimanding you if you're too clumsy and neglectful with yourself. 

No one else is allowed to give you any shit though. 

Isn't overbearingly domineering at all.

He knows you're young and dumb and will need to make some of your own mistakes to learn.

Always there for you with open arms to console you when you do.

Your silly little friend group definitely knows when to make themselves gone when Joel decides that he's had enough of sharing you for the day and wants you all for himself. 

It's always subtle; like a gentle caress on your shoulder or a soft nudge in your side. Sometimes it can be a claiming hand on your lap. And then everyone knows that it's time to scurry out. 

Doesn't always play voluntarily. 

But when he does, it's for you. 

Especially if there's a storm, or you're extra sensitive from playtime, or just emotional in general. Sometimes he's just feeling affectionate.

Will usually deny it like his life depends on it but there are certain songs, a specific range of lyrics and a peculiar sort of tunes that he plays only for you. 

Every now and then you crawl into his lap after an intimate session and ask him to teach you how to play a song or two. 

Then hours pass with you two just huddled into each other, strumming melodies to life as your naked back presses into his strong chest, your ass fitting perfectly in the crook of his abdomen as he rests his chin on your head and revels in your scent.

Sometimes he slowly cockwarms you in that position as well. 

Cannot sleep without you. 

He wasn't always like this.

But there's no going back now. 

Joel is sure to keep tossing and turning until you're locked up close in his arms. 

Your safety and well-being is his top priority.

Always. 

.

Playing TLOU again and boy am I needy for this grizzly bear. Also I haven't watched the show but I love Pedro so yeah. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated <3 

[keehomania]

hello! can I please ask for dom xiaojun with afab reader and creampie stuff? i felt like not many story abt him here

SWEET HOME — XIÀO DÉJÙN (肖德俊) (18+)

✧ MDNI (NSFW)

why did people endure the bad life threw at them? why was the path ahead always so rocky? you crossed all the bridges laid out for you, not for the thrill of the journey, but for one reason and one reason only—to reach the other side. the other side was always promised to be warmer, more forgiving, more welcoming. the other side kissed scarred knuckles and brought life back to weak pulse points. it held the kind of peace that made you believe the hardships were just a fleeting dream, a memory easily forgotten in the haze of new beginnings.

but the truth lingered, no matter how hard you tried to forget. the hardships were real. they were carved into the person you’d become, shaping you like clay pressed under relentless hands. they were the reason you could stand tall now, feet firmly planted on the ground, even when everything inside felt like it was floating, uncertain. they were the cruel, quiet moments of crying into your hands, panicking over assignments left undone, opportunities missed. you were in your senior year—why hadn’t you done more? why hadn’t you pushed yourself harder, sought out those extra credits that could’ve given you some sense of security? the weight of that regret felt unbearable sometimes, pressing down on your chest until you could barely breathe.

and then came the anxiety. the thick, consuming realization that college acceptance meant more than just a new chapter in your life—it meant you were no longer anybody’s little girl. you were no longer wrapped in the warmth and familiarity of your sweet home, no longer protected by those walls that had once made the world outside seem so far away. now, it was right in front of you, towering and daunting, filled with the unknown. a new place, new people, new responsibilities. it was all so unfamiliar, and you weren’t used to any of it.

falling in love for the first time was supposed to be beautiful, wasn’t it? that’s what everyone said—love was the one thing that was supposed to make everything better. but how could something so beautiful be so terrifying? why did it feel like every emotion was heightened, every glance, every word loaded with meaning? why was déjùn ignoring you when just last week, he had been everything you needed? why were you so mad at him, when you couldn’t even remember what had sparked the argument in the first place?

the cycle was exhausting. déjùn would get worried, you’d get upset. you’d break up, convinced it was the end, only to stalk each other like prey around campus, neither one of you willing to fully let go. and then, inevitably, you’d make up, but it never seemed to get any easier. somehow, no matter how broken things felt, life never kept you too far apart. maybe there was a reason for that. there was.

there was a reason. a reason that went deeper than anything fate could’ve scripted for you. it wasn’t just about watching déjùn smile or listening to his voice as he mumbled sleepily into your neck on those nights where time seemed to slow, letting you savor every heartbeat. no, it was more than that. it was to warm the hands that kept you going, to shelter the body that melted so perfectly against yours, as if you’d been carved from the same stone. the reason transcended the simple notion of destiny; it went beyond what the universe might have planned for you both.

you knew it when you saw him cry for the first time, and everything changed. he was always the composed one—the one who kept it together when the world felt like it was unraveling. his cool exterior never faltered, or at least, that’s what you thought until the night it all fell apart. it happened in your dorm, the quiet, familiar space suddenly feeling like a place for unraveling instead of refuge. he had broken down in front of you like he hadn’t in front of anyone else. the sobs came from deep within him, raw and uncontrolled, shaking his body in a way that left you speechless.

he had sat on your bed, hands covering his face, broken sobs echoing off the walls. His whole body shuddered with each breath, the pain pouring out of him like a dam had finally burst. you didn’t know why. he never told you, and you never asked. you never had to. it wasn’t the words that mattered in that moment, it was the feeling, the weight of his pain heavy enough to crush both of you. and so you wept with him. his tears fell, unfiltered, washing over your heart, the same heart that beat for him without hesitation.

you had held him, arms wrapped around his shaking frame, fingers tangled in his hair, and cried until his sobs finally quieted. until his breathing evened out, and the room fell silent again, save for the occasional hitch in his breath. but even that moment—intimate, raw, and unforgettable—wasn’t the full reason. the reason went beyond every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise he had never once broken. he had given you a home in his arms, a place where you belonged, where the rest of the world didn’t matter. and you were determined to give him that same home, something tangible, something sweet that he could call his own.

the house was more than just a dream. it was real, a piece of you given to him. nestled between the fields and the trees, with a creek nearby and a church hidden deep within the forest. the barn and pens were close, but they never reeked of animals. instead, the air smelled of freshwater and lilies, just like you had always imagined it would. the subtle scent of freshly baked bread lingered from the home bakery nearby, the kind of smell that made your stomach rumble in anticipation.

the house itself was two stories, painted in a soft white that reflected the sun’s warmth. but it wasn’t just white—it was touched with dabs of his favorite color. that dear green of his, the one that reminded you of life and renewal, stained the edges of the house in delicate patterns, blending into the scenery in a way that felt right, not overdone. the front steps led up to a porch where a swing swayed gently, waiting for the two of you to sit on it together, watching the sky stretch out before you. lamps stood at every corner, offering light even in the house’s darkest moments, casting a glow that felt as comforting as his presence beside you.

inside, the hallway stretched long, tiled floors echoing the soft sound of your footsteps. at the end of the hall, the bathroom sat to the right, perfectly positioned for convenience, though you barely noticed those details now. the front door led to the stairs, winding up to the second floor where your future awaited. through the door at the end of the hallway, the kitchen and living room intertwined, open and welcoming. only a small, dainty dining table separated the two spaces, enough to give the illusion of division but keeping the warmth of the home intact.

it was a place meant for sharing, for filling with memories. you could already picture yangyang sprawled across the couch, controllers in hand, keeping déjùn company when you were too busy. the boys would all gather here, because it was home. it wasn’t just a house—it was the place he had always needed, filled with laughter and warmth, with the scent of lilies and bread and the sound of friends filling the space with life. the first time he saw it, his eyes welled up, and he broke down again, not in pain this time, but in pure, unfiltered joy. you cried with him, standing there on the porch, the two of you holding each other in the doorway of the life you had built together. it was everything he had ever wanted, and it was given to him by the only person he had ever truly needed.

you stood by the stove, the warm, cozy glow of the kitchen wrapping around you like a familiar hug. the room was your sanctuary, every little detail curated to your liking, but there were traces of déjùn everywhere. a coffee mug he always used, a soft green tea towel he’d picked out, even the way the pots were arranged had his influence. it was a constant reminder that he was always there, woven into every corner of your life. you could feel him in the air, in the way the sun filtered through the windows, and in the gentle way the house creaked, as though it was alive with both of your memories.

you were making one of his favorites—peanut noodles with chili crisp. the rich scent filled the air as you prepped, hands working deftly, slicing and mixing with a practiced ease. a batch of iced green tea waited for him in the fridge, the condensation slowly forming on the glass, just the way he liked it. everything you did for him was done with care, every detail proving the love that pulsed through you. it had always been this way. every action, every gesture, was imbued with a purpose, because everything you did was for him.

you were so immersed in it, focused on the rhythm of your movements, that you hadn’t heard him come in. he stood there, just behind you, watching quietly. he didn’t want to intrude, but the scent had drawn him in, and now the sight of you convinced him to stay. you looked so pretty. your hair was tied up in a loose bun, strands falling just out of place, framing your face in a way that made you glow. your brows furrowed in concentration, your lips, soft and pink, pouted just slightly as you worked. a pink apron tied neatly at your back over your sundress, making you look both delicate and capable all at once. you were perfect.

he couldn’t believe he had you—couldn’t believe that someone so good, so kind, was his. the sight of you, standing there in your shared kitchen, cooking for him in a house that may not have been made by you, but had been turned into a home because of you. the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, of anyone else getting even a glimpse of you, stirred something possessive deep inside him. no one deserved that. no one but him.

you didn’t notice his presence until you felt it—his warmth, his breath ghosting over your ear, so close it made the hairs on your neck stand up. your body tensed for a moment, but then you softened, melting into his familiar touch. a smile tugged at your lips as you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you close. “everything okay?” you murmured, your voice soft, your expression relaxed now that he was near. his arms tightened around you, and you felt his face press into the crook of your neck, the closeness sending a wave of warmth over you.

your voice was like honey to him, sweet and soothing. you felt so small in his grasp, so helpless in the best way possible. his presence was overwhelming in the most intoxicating way, and you loved it. he made you feel safe but also powerless, as though the mere act of him holding you was enough to remind you who you belonged to. “i love you so much,” déjùn murmured against your skin, his voice low, breath hot as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice shaky, hands trembling slightly around the knife you still held. the sensation of his lips on your neck, the possessiveness of his hold, it was too much. you didn’t even realize how much your hands were shaking until his fingers, large and sure, gently closed around yours, guiding the knife out of your grip and setting it on the counter. his touch was careful, but there was no mistaking the dominance in it. he took your hand into his, long fingers wrapping around your much smaller ones, grounding you.

“i'm almost done, okay?” you asked, trying to steady your breath, trying to focus on anything but the heat pooling low in your stomach.

his response was a quiet, “i'm not patient enough,” his voice was gravelly, deeper now, filled with something darker, as his lips found the curve of your neck again. this time, he didn’t stop. “i'm not patient enough to resist you,” he said, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

before you could respond, his hands were on your hips, gripping you firmly as he turned you around in one fluid motion. a surprised yelp escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by the intensity of his gaze. his fingers spread over your thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress, teasingly close to where you were already aching for him. he lifted you effortlessly, and instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist. “so pretty,” déjùn murmured, his voice soft but filled with adoration as he pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, his lips wet and warm. “aren't you?”

you were flushed, the heat creeping up from your chest to your face, and all you could do was nod, unable to form coherent words as his lips found yours. the kiss wasn’t hurried or sloppy; it was purposeful. his lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak, though you didn’t need to stand. he was holding you, carrying you with ease as he walked, never breaking the kiss as he made his way up the stairs.

by the time you reached the bedroom, your breathing had quickened, but he was steady, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world. he kicked the door open with his foot, crossing the threshold with a grin that made your heart flutter. when he laid you down on the bed, his body hovered over yours, his hands trailing down to your thighs once more. his touch was electric, and all you could do was let yourself melt into him, the weight of the world disappearing as his lips claimed yours again.

the kiss deepened, his lips moving slowly, deliberately, as if savoring each moment, each taste of you. his hands, though gentle, had a strength that made you feel small beneath him, yet cherished. his fingers, impossibly long and deft, found the apron tied over your dress, pulling at the knot with ease. the fabric loosened and fell away, forgotten, as his attention shifted to the way your knees bent, your legs spreading just slightly, enough for him to notice the hitch in your breath.

his eyes followed the movement, lingering where your dress had bunched up, revealing the soft cotton of your pink panties. his gaze dropped to the faint dampness staining the fabric, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. his thumb traced the outline of your swollen lips, his touch feather-light but sending a ripple of anticipation through your body.

“what do you want, baby?” his voice was low, almost a whisper, as his thumb pressed lightly against your bottom lip. the question hung in the air between you, heavy and full of promise, but the words you wanted to say tangled in your throat. you let out a small, pathetic whimper, your mouth parting slightly as his thumb pushed past your lips, pressing against your tongue.

“you know i’ll give my girl whatever she wants if she uses her words, right?” he murmured, his tone teasing but affectionate, the dark timber of it wrapping around you like a velvet rope. his thumb pressed deeper, your lips wrapping around the knuckle as you instinctively closed your mouth around him. the weight of his finger, the intimacy of it, made your breath hitch, a broken sound escaping your throat as you struggled to find your voice. you nodded, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as his thumb pressed further into your mouth, deeper until it filled the space, until he was satisfied. your teeth grazed lightly against his skin as you tried to speak around him, your voice muffled, rasping out a soft, desperate plea. “want you, xiao, please.”

his eyes darkened at your words, his free hand cupping your cheek as his thumb finally withdrew, leaving you gasping for breath. his gaze roamed over your face, taking in the tears clinging to your lashes, the flush of your cheeks, the way your lips were swollen and parted. his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tear that had slipped free, his lips curving into a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach the hunger in his eyes. “god, you’re too much,” he murmured, his voice thick with something darker, something possessive. his hand slipped down to your waist, fingers skimming the sensitive skin just above your panties. your breath hitched again, the sensation of his fingers so close to where you needed him most almost unbearable.

déjùn's knuckle grazed over your clothed pussy, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made your nails dig into his arm. your fingertips brushed against the prominent veins running down his forearm, feeling his pulse beneath your touch. you were aching, desperate for more, but just when you thought he'd finally give you what you craved, he stopped. the loss of contact made your body tense with frustration, and you pouted, your lips parting in disappointment. he caught your expression and smiled, his fingers stroking the soft skin of your thigh. his touch was gentle, teasing, as he asked, “can you do something for me?”

you nodded eagerly, desperate for him to stop teasing, to finally get on with what you both so clearly wanted. “take everything off,” he said, his voice low, thick with desire, “and put your apron back on.”

the request caught you off guard, a moment of surprise flashing in your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to the thought. the sight of you in nothing but the apron—cooking for him, being his—was enough to drive him insane. it made you feel delicate, pretty, like you belonged to him completely. you could feel your pulse quickening at the idea, the excitement building as you imagined how his gaze would devour you.

standing on the bed, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the hem of your sundress. déjùn was on his knees beneath you, his hands gently guiding you, helping to pull the fabric over your head. his lips followed the path of your dress as it lifted, leaving soft, lingering kisses down your stomach, his nose brushing against your skin. when the fabric pooled at your feet, his lips reached the top of your thighs, kissing just above your panties, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. the ache between his legs was becoming unbearable, the sight of you, the taste of your skin—it was overwhelming. hos hands slid up the back of your thighs, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh, gripping you like he never wanted to let go.

your hands were shy, hesitant, as you reached behind your back to unhook your bra. the strap loosened, and déjùn’s hands were quick to pull it down, his eyes dark with desire as the material fell away. he leaned upward, his lips finding the bare skin of your breast, his tongue darting out to trace slow, tantalizing circles around your nipple. a soft moan escaped your lips, your back arching slightly as his mouth closed over you, sucking gently. “keep going, baby,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your nipple. his voice was low, laced with hunger, urging you on.

you did as you were told, your fingers trembling as you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. déjùn's mouth left your breast, but his hand replaced it, groping and tugging at the sensitive flesh as he shifted his attention lower. he was utterly entranced by the sweet smell of your core, the way your body trembled as you exposed yourself to him. his free hand moved to spread your thighs apart, his fingers gentle but firm, guiding you to open for him. his lips brushed against your inner thigh, trailing soft kisses as he moved closer to where you needed him most. you could feel his breath hot against your folds, his nose grazing your entrance, teasing you, making you shake beneath his touch.

“xiao—” you began to beg, your voice a broken whisper, but he cut you off with a soft shush, his lips brushing against your thigh as he did. the vibration of his voice shot straight through you, making your core tighten in anticipation. “almost there,” he murmured, his voice soft, soothing, but full of promise. you let out a small whimper, your hips shifting slightly, aching for him to stop teasing. but instead of giving in, he licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your thigh, his nose brushing dangerously close to your core without touching. he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your arousal, and it took everything in him to resist the temptation to devour you.

you reached for the apron, your hands shaking as you pulled it over your head, the thin straps tightening around your neck as you adjusted it. déjùn pulled back just enough to watch, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your body. the front of the apron barely covered you, the fabric tight around your waist, your breasts spilling out from the sides. from his angle, your core was still exposed, and the sight made his breath hitch.

with a groan, he reached for you, his hands gripping your hips as he turned you around, his gaze taking in the sight of your ass peeking out from the back of the apron. his fingers trembled slightly as he hastily tied the strings behind you, pulling you back down onto the bed. “you drive me insane,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his hands gripping you firmly as he tugged the knot tight.

déjùn laid you down gently on your back, his body hovering over yours, and for a moment, the world felt still. his lips found yours in a kiss so soft, so slow, that it made your heart stutter. his eyes scanned over you, lingering on the way the apron clung to your body, leaving so much exposed yet teasingly hidden. “you like it?” you asked shyly, your voice barely a whisper, your breath catching as his gaze turned heavy with desire.

without a word, his hands shot up, grabbing your breasts where they spilled shamelessly out of the apron’s sides, kneading them with an intensity that made your entire body flush with heat. “so much,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “look so perfect, so pretty. the prettiest wife.” your breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping your lips as his words sank into you. but it was what he said next that made your body tremble, made the air in the room feel heavier, thicker. “you’ll be an even prettier mommy.”

the thought made you squirm beneath him, your thighs pressing together instinctively as his hands worked over your body. the idea of being his—entirely, fully, and forever—drove him wild. he didn’t just want you. he wanted to claim you, to breed you, to see you swollen with the weight of his children. the thought of you, plump and heavy with his seed, your belly round and your breasts full, helpless and tender for him—he needed it. he could already picture it: kissing your feet to soothe your exhaustion, cradling your swollen belly, watching you as you moved around his home, his perfect, precious wife. it was the most enchanting image, one that fueled the fire already burning inside him.

“gonna let me make you one, yeah?” his voice was soft, almost a plea, though there was nothing but certainty in his eyes. even with the unbearable strain in his pants, he was patient, waiting for your answer. “yeah,” you murmured, your voice shaking with need, “put a baby in me.” you would give him whatever he wanted because you wanted it just as much, maybe even more. the thought of being his, completely his, sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the tension building inside him, the way his body shuddered at your words.

a grunt escaped him as he pushed your knees to your chest, spreading you wide open for him. his head dipped between your thighs, and instead of diving in like you expected, he pressed his face into your core, breathing you in deeply. his groan reverberated through your body, and your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you moaned. he had no idea just how wet you were, how ready you were for him. your slick clung to his nose and cheeks as he nuzzled deeper, the heat of his breath and the pressure of his face sending waves of pleasure through your core. you could feel the wetness slipping down your thighs, soaking his skin, and it only made you need him more.

“you’re making a mess, baby,” he grunted, his voice rough as his hands kneaded your thighs, fingers tracing the edge of the apron. “fuck, getting me all fucking dirty.” your response was nothing more than a pitiful whine, your body arching beneath him, lips parting as tears welled in your eyes from the overwhelming need for more. the sensation of his face pressed against you, his nose grazing your clit, was driving you mad.

then, his tongue flicked out, wrapping around your clit with a precision that made you see stars. he sucked at it gently at first, teasing you, then harder, his lips closing over your entire core. his tongue darted out, licking up and down your slit, collecting every bit of your juices, savoring the taste of you. “too much,” you shuddered, your voice barely a whisper as you tried to hold back. “wanna cum on your dick, please.”

you could beg all you liked, but déjùn was as mean as he was generous. he didn’t listen, didn’t stop. his pace quickened, his nose pressing into your clit while his tongue worked over your folds, licking up the slick that dripped down your thighs. you tasted so sweet, so familiar, and the more he tasted, the more he wanted. your core throbbed beneath his touch, your walls tightening as the pleasure built, unbearable, almost too much. you whimpered as he slipped a finger inside you, curling it, hitting that soft, spongy spot that made you cry out.

you sobbed quietly, the sensation overwhelming, your body on the brink of release. but just when you thought you’d fall over the edge, he pulled away. the loss of his mouth, of his touch, left you trembling, a frustrated whine escaping your lips. he was so mean. so mean. but then, his face softened, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your mouth. his chin was slick with your juices, his breath hot against your lips, and his fingers brushed away the tears that had spilled from your eyes.

“gonna stretch you out so good,” he groaned against your mouth, his words laced with promise, with need. “baby’s gonna pop right out once i’m done with you.” the taste of your arousal lingered on your tongue as his lips moved over yours, his hands roaming your body, his touch firm yet tender. you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body trembled with restraint as he hovered above you, his cock hard and aching against your thigh.

he made you watch as he peeled his clothes away, but you would’ve watched either way. how could you not? how could you look away, when he looked so good? his dark hair clung to his forehead, slick with sweat. in fact, he was sweaty all around. his chin and fingers were still wet with your arousal, but every other part of him was wet with sweat, and he’s never looked better. what really had your attention was his boxers, the sight of the tip of his cock peeking out from the top, hard and angry, pressing against his abs, eager to escape its confinement.

he chuckled as he watched your concentration, disrupting your thoughts. it only encouraged him to continue, tugging his boxers down his thighs eagerly. he let out a shameless groan as his cock collided with his stomach, upright and hard to the touch, the cool air grazing it and flooding him with temporary relief. he was so big, so so big, and you would never get used to it. every vein was prominent, blue clashing with the angry shade of red his cock was, begging for attention in every way. he seemed smug, pleased with how shocked you were as he took your frail hand and wrapped it around the base.

“oh, fuck,” he growled at the feeling of your fingers wrapped around him so generously. you looked up at him with doe eyes, innocent and sweet as if you weren’t a filthy mess for him. you stroked him from the base of his cock to the tip, your thumb dancing around the slit where pre-cum had started dribbling down his shaft. you savored the sounds he was making as you collected his seed with your thumb, releasing his dick just to plop your thumb into your mouth. he watched with a sinister gaze as your lips wrapped around your finger, sucking off the salty mess he was starting to make.

just like that, it was over. he pushed your knees up to your chest once more, eyes glazing over your weeping cunt a final time as he grabbed his dick, alligning it with your cunt. you could feel the tip against your clit, rock hard and thick as he tapped it against your pussy. “xiao, please, need you to fuck me,” you begged through unshed tears. you were about to press down against him, to stir up the smallest bit of friction, but he was mean. he held your hip down with his free hand, just to release his dick from his other one.

then, it unfolded before you could predict it. his free hand came down against your pussy, harsh and unforgiving with a squelch as his palm collided with a smack. your hips stuttered at the pain and sinful pleasure as a tear fell down your cheek, the weight of his cruel gaze unmatched. he spread his fingers in front of your face with a subtle smirk. “see how wet you are?” he cooed, gesturing to the slick dripping down his palm. “see how wet i make you?” all you could do was nod, too ashamed and too desperate to talk. he was plased, all too pleased with just how abused your cunt looked from a single slap.

it urged him on, encouraging him to bring his cock right back to your core. this time, there was no teasing. he would so generously give you what you were looking for, no matter how much it hurt—and it definitely hurt. no matter how many times he fucked you, no matter how hard, you would never adjust to his size. you moaned in synchronization as he eased his dick past your folds, your walls clamping down on him the second he entered you. you could feel every inch, every vein and every pulse. it was raw, it was painful, and it felt too good.

his eyes locked with yours as he slammed into you, the sound of your moans and the slap of his skin against yours echoing in the room. your tits bounced with every thrust, smacking against your chin as your knees were forced into your chest. you felt so full, so used, so utterly owned by this man. and yet, you craved more. “deeper,” you panted, your nails digging into the bed as your body begged for release. “deeper, xiao, need more.” he would oblige, he wanted it more than you did. he was determined to put a baby in you.

his strokes grew more erratic, his breaths shallower as he fucked you like it was his life's mission. your eyes never left his, the connection between you palpable. his cock was like a piston, relentlessly plunging into your tight pussy, hitting that spot that made you scream his name with every thrust. your walls quivered around him, desperately trying to keep him in, to keep that feeling forever. “this pussy was made for my cock, yeah?” he slurred, circling his hips before slamming right back into you. tears slid down your cheeks at the sensation of it, you wanted to be owned by him.

his hand tightened around your hip, his other gripping your chin to force your gaze up to his. “tell me how much you love it, baby. tell me how much you want my cum inside you,” he demanded, his voice thick with need. and you did, you told him just how much you loved it, how much you needed it. you begged him to fill you up, to breed you, to make you his. “fill me up with your cum, dont let any spill out,” you begged through your tears as they coated his hand. “get me pregnant, knock me up, xiao—fuck—” he was relentless, absolutely relentless with his hands on your knees, pushing you back to let him go deeper, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass as he threw his head back with a groan.

you watched as his abs tensed, his cock thickening even more as he picked up his pace. the smack of skin on skin grew louder, your moans turning into screams as he hit your sweet spot over and over again. it was agonizingly beautiful, the way his body moved with yours, the way your cunt clamped down on him as he drove deeper, the way your tits jiggled with every thrust. you felt yourself getting closer, your walls tightening around his dick, the pressure building. he was gonna breed your cunt, make an oven out of your pussy.

his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in firm circles as he fucked you harder, the friction setting your nerves alight. “i’m gonna cum,” you gasped, your voice high and desperate. “i’m gonna cum on your cock, xiao.” he grunted, his hips slamming into you, his own orgasm just as imminent. “yes, baby, cum for me,” he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. “cum all over me, show me how much you want it.” and just like that, you did. your body tensed, your back arched, and a scream tore from your throat as your pussy spasmed around his cock, clenching tight as you came harder than you ever had before.

his rhythm didn't falter, though. if anything, it grew more intense, more punishing. “not yet,” he said, his voice strained. “i’m not done with you.” his thumb kept working your clit, pushing you into another orgasm, and another, until your cries were nothing but desperate pleas for mercy. but mercy wasn't something déjùn knew how to give, not when he had you like this, not when he could feel you milking him, begging for his seed.

his eyes were wild with lust, his pupils blown wide as he watched you come undone beneath him. “you’re gonna take every drop,” he promised, his strokes growing shallower as he chased his own release. “you’re gonna be pregnant with my baby, you're gonna carry it and grow it and push it out just for me.” the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement that had you trembling all over.

his thumb never left your clit, even as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsing with the beginnings of his orgasm. “xiao,” you whispered, “i’m gonna—” but he silenced you with a kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting the salt of your tears and the sweetness of your cries. he groaned against your lips, his hand leaving your chin to wrap around the base of his cock as he pushed in one final, deep thrust. you felt the warmth of his cum fill you, the pressure building until it was almost too much. your eyes rolled back in your head as your body was hit with a final wave of pleasure, his seed spilling into your womb. “yes,” you chanted, your voice muffled by his mouth. “yes, yes, yes—”

his body tensed above you, his muscles tight as he emptied himself inside you. his cock jerked, pulsing, and you could feel every drop of his cum coating your insides. when he finally pulled out, a string of it followed, connecting his cock to your pussy before snapping, leaving a trail of white on your skin. “so good,” he murmured, kissing down your neck as his hands softened on your hips. “so fucking good.” he was pleased, too pleased. all with the sight of your pussy coated in white—coated in his white.

✧

a/n: what would you do if when you okay so he said yes would GO 💜 thank you for requesting ily

[baratiddyappreciator]

Cuddling the Baki Cast (NSFW)

Minors DNI and all that, you guys know better. I had a lot of fun with these ones, changed up the order a bit, and also carried over the bonus Yanagi, Oliva, Chiharu and Gaia, at the cost of taking out Tokugawa because I apparently can't sexualize that particular old man. DW, You'll still get your old man fix though ;) These are a bit longer than the initial ones because I'm not as restrained when I can just put the cut right beneath my little blurb and write... Well, sin. Also guess who finally decided to whip out colours so things are clearer :D (it's me)

NSFW under the cut!

Baki:

Cuddling with him always comes with a risk. A risk of being interrupted by some upstart trying to challenge him, or his dad, for some godforsaken reason. Sometimes he gets a sudden spurt of energy and feels the need to just disappear and go train for a few hours, but sometimes, and sometimes, like now, you feel his hands start to snake around your sides and under your shirt, higher and higher towards your chest as his previously innocent kisses turn hungry and deliberate against your throat. His fingers tweak your nipples as his lips meet yours, his hips bumping softly against your own, his legs urging yours apart so he can make room for himself, grinding against you hard and slow. He was all over, kissing you, grinding against you, playing with your nipples.

He didn't want to take his hands off of your chest, so it was up to you to reach down to pull your pants and underwear down. He didn't get the luxury treatment for being lazy, of course, the most he got was you clumsily undoing his pants and pulling him out of his boxers so he could grind against your eager little hole for a little bit before he pressed in, rolling slightly so that he could press both of his knees to the futon beneath the two of you, rolling his hips, his hands still cupping your chest, but now using it as a form of handhold so he could pull you back down onto his cock, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your hear.

"You're driving me wild baby doll."

Kozue:

She liked having music playing while you two cuddled. She said it added to the atmosphere, helped soothe you two into a comfortable, zen mood, and sometimes even into sleep. But other times, it was helpful for covering up the sounds of her breathless gasps. Your teeth gently came down on the shell of her ear as your fingers slid over her slick clit, her hips pressed back against yours, her own hand cupping you through your pants, providing you the friction you needed as you ground against her palm, her shirt pulled up exposing her chest to the now slightly chilly air. She'd been working so hard lately, it was only fair that you help her take off the edge so she doesn't burn herself out.

She gasped slightly louder, her other hand grabbing frantically at her pillow to muffle her voice, her hips bucking against your palm as your fingers circled her clit faster and harder, her face turning slightly so you could kiss her properly. She was shaking, so close to the edge that you could almost taste it, feeling the minute twitches in her thighs and her lower stomach, her ragged breaths hitching as hit-pitched whines escaped her.

"Baby please, I'm so close already."

Hanayama:

Having him crawl into bed after coming home dead tired was always a treat. He'd normally keep the lights off and not notice that you woke up the second the front door opened. You could tell what kind of mood he was in just by how he took off his shoes. And today was a mood that you could get behind. His hand slid up your thigh over the blankets, tickling you as his weight settled behind you only a moment later, the blankets being pulled down slightly. He knew you were awake at this point, you couldn't help the stupid grin on your face as he found you naked as the day you were born in bed, waiting for him. A soft swear was muttered under his breath, before you felt his cock slap against your ass, encouraging you angle your hips up and back so he could make you feel good.

And of course, you obeyed. Why wouldn't you? This was the kind of cuddling that you didn't mind in the slightest. The delicious stretch you felt as he pressed into you was exactly what you've been needing all night. You've been lonely without him. His forehead pressed against the back of your head, hips rolling slowly to get used to the feeling before he sat up, his hand settling on your lower back, guiding your hips back to meet his in a tiny thrust, your only hint of playfulness in him before you were jostled forward by a hard snap of his hips, your hands scrabbling at the pillows for purchase.

"That's it, be good for me and take it."

Chiharu:

He was a bundle of nerves during regular cuddling, always worried that he'd do something wrong and freak you out or hurt you. He's not as strong as some of the guys in the arena, but he's still plenty powerful you know! This time, however, you were the one worried about freaking him out as your hand travelled lower and lower down his torso towards his hips, innocently looking up at him as you toyed with his zipper, your hips wiggling slightly. He looked flabbergasted, eyes flicking between your eyes and your hand, then back to your eyes, and finally down to your lips as he licked his own. This would be fun, you could tell as he gave you a tiny nod, and you started unbuckling him.

His shaft was hot and heavy in your hand as you slowly pumped him, his hand resting on your ass, slowly starting to creep around to slide beneath your pants and sink into your eager hole. It's only fair that he return the favour, right? His head fell back slightly, a groan leaving him, before his head came back to but against yours gently, his brow furrowed, his unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes glassy and filled with pleasure locked with your own as you jerked him off, still smug, but you couldn't stop your hips from rocking back against his hand as his fingers gently rubbed at your insides.

"Fuck me doll, you're making my brain melt."

Katsumi:

Warm. You normally woke up warm, but now you were almost too warm as Katsumi tossed your legs over his thighs, hands cupping your chest, rolling your pert nipples between his pointers and thumbs, kissing you hungrily. You loved it when he woke up and decided his morning run could be replaced by ramming you into the mattress, his hips slowly rolling against yours as he sank into you slowly, the stretch delicious as he pressed in and pulled out time and time again. One of his hands left your chest to gently rest at the base of your throat, your only warning that he was about to pick up the pace before he was off to the races.

His hips slammed into yours, the wet sound of your bodies joining amplified in the room as he used your throat to pull you back down on his cock after he jostled you forward, his hair messy, lightly panting before he flashed a smile at you, your legs cinching around his waist and giving him a little squeeze, drawing him in deeper, closer, and he didn't hesitate to throw his head back and let out a low moan that vibrated through the air, making you scrambled to reach up and cover his smirking lips.

"Come on sweetheart, the neighbours already hate us, have some fun."

Jack:

Your hands were braced on his chest, firm and strong. He was big and sturdy, one of his hands resting on your thigh, the other on your hip, thumb pointing down to give you that extra bit of stimulation as your hips rocked against his hard, a deep groan leaving his lips as his head fell back against the arm of the couch, his cock pressing deep into you, hitting parts that you'd previously never known about before meeting him. His hips rolled in tandem with yours, timing it just right so that he'd press in as you rocked back, sending him deeper into you in just the right way that made you feel like you were going to explode.

His eyes were glazed over as he brought his head back, low moans tumbling from his parted lips as he watched you ride him. One of your hands moved up and squeezed the base of his thick neck, earning a louder moan, his hips bucking up sharply, though he rubbed at your thigh in apology immediately after, he knew he had to behave. Sometimes him assuming that you had no ulterior motives to crawling into his lap had its benefits, like the flustered look on his face when you'd started griding your hips onto his only moments ago. He growled against your lips as you leaned down to kiss him.

"Fuck honey, keep going, just like that, I've needed it all day."

Gaia:

The first time he'd slotted his thigh between your legs while you were watching your show, you'd slapped it away playfully. He knew how much you liked this show, surely he wouldn't bother you while you were watching the new episode, right? But his thigh bumped between your legs again, and another time after that, one of his hands resting on your hips to guide them down on his leg, his other massaging the base of your throat. He was, apparently, going to make you miss this episode, forcing you to watch it some other time, which really wasn't the same. He nipped at the shell of your ear, impishly smiling at you when you glared at him from over your shoulder, though you both knew that it was half-hearted at best.

He had you grinding against his thigh on your own in no time, extremely proud of himself for providing the perfect distraction at just the right time, his own hips chasing yours with each roll forward and down, basking in your little whimpers and sighs as he brought pleasure to you, his hand rhythmically squeezing at the base of your neck in time with your increasingly desperate thrusts against his leg.

"What's the matter sweetheart? Can't focus?"

Kosho:

His hands, you decided, were fucking dangerous. You'd just been trying to snuggle up to him, it was cold tonight, and now you were pinned to his chest, squirming and bucking your hips as he fucked you on his fingers, his other hand holding your cheeks, forcing you to look him in the eyes as his palm made a slick slapping noise whenever it made contact with your skin, pleasure rising from each forceful impact, each crook of his fingers. You could feel him, fully hard, pressed against your stomach, but he wasn't going to let you touch him yet.

No, that was for people who behaved and didn't make him lose his comfortable spot when he was so close to falling asleep. He wasn't genuinely mad, that you both knew, but he was going to make a point, and he was going to make sure that it got across before he gave you his dick. You made a choked noise as his fingers hit a spot that made you see stars, and he smirked.

"Are you warm enough now, babydoll?"

Kureha:

Cuddling with Kureha was dangerous for a multitude of reasons. For starters, sometimes he'd just sit in silence, and then come out and say that your heartbeat was irregular and that it was annoying him. Other times? Well, other times you'd wind up where you were now, with your legs over his shoulders as his mouth worked wonders on you on your couch, the freshly folded laundry knocked all over the floor during the excitement. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to his crotch, the angle awkward, but allowing for access.

Your movements were sloppy, because of course they were, he was making your brain leak out of your ears with what his tongue was doing to you, but he knew better than to expect perfection from you while he was going down on you, settling for the sloppy, jerky handjob he was getting from you, well aware that you'd get better after he helped you cum.

"Darling I love you, but if you don't give me some more grip, I'm going to lose it."

Retsu:

You loved how you could absolutely blindside this man by asking him to cuddle you. A quick cuddle on the couch, that was all you'd asked for, and he'd given it to you. What he hadn't realised was that it was all a clever ploy for you to find a way to suck his dick before he went and trained. He'd made some really good food for supper the night before, and now he was going to get cherished, absolutely fucking appreciated, the idiot.

Your head bobbed, and the couch groaned under the force of his grip, his hands shaking as he whined, hips shallowly bucking into your mouth, drool slicking his shaft, wanting to touch, but not wanting to at the same time. His face was bright red and twisted in pleasure, and if you could take a picture and frame it, you'd keep it beside your bed so you could see it every morning and every night.

"Love, please- Gods- Don't stop!"

Oliva:

Telling him about any of your fantasies was a huge mistake. Why? Because now he had you pegged. Literally and figuratively. He knew what you'd like, and he'd used that to get to where you where now, bouncing on his cock, your hands braced on his knees as his hand, settled on your lower back, guiding you up and down on him, that damn smirk playing across his lips, like he was proud of himself (he was, he absolutely was and he wouldn't hide that).

There was a brief moment where his guiding hand stopped, but only so that the other hand could give your ass a "light tap". The resounding slap rang out in the room, earning a strangled moan as you threw your head back, hearing that all too familiar chuckle.

"That's it honey, take it just like that."

Doppo:

You'd both had long days, so you'd settled for just lounging around the house, wrapped up in a blanket, watching whatever was on TV at the time. But Doppo had keen eyes and a golden tongue, he saw the way you'd kept rubbing your thighs together- hell, he'd felt it- and he wasn't about to let you end your night horny. And you would have appreciated that fact more if he hadn't put you in a damn headlock and decided to fuck your soul out. His hips pounded against yours, slick smeared across both of your skin, his arms powerful steel rods around your head and neck, choking, but not entirely.

Broken, garbled little sounds left your lips, but he only chuckled, pausing for only a second to readjust and reposition his hips to hit that spot he knew drove you absolutely insane and would usually have you cumming so hard you'd start crying, his arms flexing harder for just a moment, completely cutting off your air supply, and your eyes rolled. You could just see the proud smirk on his lips as he laughed breathlessly.

"Come on baby, I said I'd make it all better, didn't I?"

Shibukawa:

You really should have known that you couldn't out-sly the master. You thought you were being clever by offering him your lap so you could cop a feel, but that hadn't turned out the way you were expecting at all. As it stood, he currently had you pinned to the ground and was fucking your thighs almost painfully slowly, chuckling in your ear. He was so close, yet so far from you, and it drove you mad with need.

He wasn't evil, of course, just mischievous, so he was kind enough to at least direct his thrusts upwards once in a while for a short period so you'd get some stimulation beyond in your thighs, his grip so firm that it was almost guaranteed that you wouldn't be able to writhe away.

"Do you see now darling? You can't pull a fast one on me."

Yanagi:

His hand covered your mouth, but he wasn't trying to kill you. No, he was trying to shut you up so you wouldn't make the neighbours freak out and call the cops as he slammed his hips against yours, your eyes rolling back as he hit a spot that made you see stars. All of this because you insisted on being so needy right after his escape from prison. His hand came down on your ass again, earning a jolt as the sharp sting shot through your body like a gun.

His fingers flexed, moving slightly, making sure that his palm wouldn't entirely cover your mouth so you could breathe, but they immediately moved back at the loud sob you let out as he hissed sharply, sucking air in through his teeth.

"Now now sweetheart, if you keep making noises like that I'll have to leave."

Motobe:

You thought you'd won the lottery by getting Motobe to cuddle with you. He was warm, comfortable, and relaxed. And then he'd started cleaning his damn sword. Of course, you could still relax, hell, you even started to drift off to sleep until the movement of his arms changed slightly, a new, slick noise rousing you from your dozing. His breath came out in short pants as he grabbed your hand, squeezing it around his shaft as he kissed your forehead. Not this was a sword you could get behind cleaning.

Of course, there was something much better at cleaning his sword than your hand, and he wasted no time sinking straight into the hilt, earning a long whine as he pulled you down onto his hips, smirking up at you as your hips rolled and bucked against his, desperate for some form of relief, your hands braced on his shoulders, gasping as he simply leaned back, lighting and taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched you bounce on his cock.

"There you go baby, take care of me just like that."

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (10)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, first date, fluff, rusty flirting skills

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (9)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky is a gentleman. He’s just perfect, and you are swooning.

Gentleman he is, Bucky held the door for you, pulled your chair, and let you choose your food first.

He barely ate his food, busy watching you feast on your dinner. “Do you like your job?” Bucky asks as you take a large sip of your water.

“It’s…” you try not to make a face. “Well, it’s a job, you know. I make money and can pay for rent, food, and knick-knacks. Oh, and plants. I like plants.” You giggle. “Sorry if I talk too much.”

“Plants,” he hums. “What plants do you like.” Bucky already knows that you love orchids, but you’ve got other plants too and he wants to buy you all the plants and flowers you love.

“I like orchids, but all plants are pretty,” you smile dreamily. “I live in the city, without trees, and green grass. I try to have as many plants as possible because I want  my apartment to become a green oasis.”

“Why don’t you live outside of town if you don’t like it here?” He softly asks, making your heart flutter.

“I wish I had the money to buy a farmhouse. I’d have flower fields and harvest tomatoes and lots of strawberries. I’d run barefoot to feel the grass under my feet,” you giggle. “It’s a stupid dream, I know.”

You drop your gaze and shake your head. Hopefully, you didn’t scare Bucky off with your stupid daydreams.

“A farmhouse,” he hums and licks his lips. Bucky can’t believe you want to move out of town, just like he planned. “That’s a nice dream, doll. I always wanted a peaceful life, away from the city too.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks hearing the sweet pet's name roll off his tongue. Bucky smiles softly, making your heart flutter even harder.

“Do you like your job?” It’s your turn to ask questions. You’ve never been good at conversing with men and only hope you won’t ruin your chance with Bucky. “I mean…” You stumble over your words. “Did you ever dream of just dropping everything and running?”

His eyes darken for a second. It happened so fast you’re not sure you saw it right.

“We all do, don’t we,” he casually says, but his voice is a little deeper and rougher. A shudder runs through your body, and you press your legs together. “We dream of a better life and a nicer place to live.”

You touch your cheeks because they feel too hot. Bucky understands you so well. No man before him understood you, and your silly dreams.

“Do you want chickens too? Oh, maybe a dog,” you shake your head. “No, you’ve already got Alpine.”

“I like dogs too, but Alpine is…” He smiles fondly while thinking of his cat. “I couldn’t bring another pet into our family yet.”

You smile because Alpine means family to Bucky. “Aw, that’s so nice of you,” you swoon a little too hard. “Alpine must mean a lot to you.”

“Yeah. Even when I was at my lowest, Alpine was there to keep me going,” he murmurs. “Sorry, I didn’t want to ruin our date.”

“No, no!” You hastily say and grab his hand to squeeze it. “I know what you mean, Bucky. Sometimes we need someone or something to distract us from the things going on in our life.”

“You too?” He shifts in his seat. Your hand is still holding his, and it makes his heart flutter.

“I got an annoying colleague, my boss wasn’t always nice, and I got bad luck when it comes to love,” you feel safe around Bucky and are not ashamed to admit that things aren’t always easy for you. “Life is hard sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Especially with a past—” Bucky bites his tongue. You didn’t mention his past yet. Maybe you’re too kind. He doesn’t want to keep his hopes high believing you don’t know about his past and the things he did.

Bucky decides to enjoy the rest of your date and to lay a foundation for the future.

You eat together and talk about your life. Bucky makes you laugh, and your heart flutters more than once.

After dinner, he holds your hand while walking you home. He’s nervous, and unsure if you want him to kiss you goodnight. Bucky decides to kiss your cheek, lips lingering for a moment.

He wants to take things slow and win your heart over. Bucky crosses many lines while following you, but he wants to do this right.

“Alpine, look what she got you,” Bucky laughs when his cat immediately pounces on the toy you got for the white feline. “I see you like the toy mouse.”

Alpine toys with the mouse. The feline flings it across the room only to catch it and carry it toward Bucky to place it next to his foot.

“Our date was nice. So nice.” He sighs dreamily. “I knew she’s nice, and kind, and just perfect. Imagine Y/N dreams of having a farmhouse, chickens, and a peaceful life.”

“Perfect!” You do a little dance with the plushie your secret admirer gifted to you first. Pressing it to your heart you sigh. “Bucky is so sweet, and a true gentleman. Even though, I wish he kissed me goodnight.”

Bucky inhales sharply. He missed the chance to kiss you, but this can’t be helped now. He already asked you on another date and will kiss you next time he walks you home…

Part 11

Tags in reblog.

[lowkeychenle]

모래성 [LMH] (M)

Description: You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison.

Genre: Smut

(This new song is SO good I had to write this literally immediately it has been on my mind all day)

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (Don't Do This LOL), rough Mark, kind of uncaring Mark?, bad bitch mark what else can I say

Word Count: 1,327

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Juliet's Masterlist

When you and Mark first agreed to your arrangement, neither of you expected it to come this far. He certainly didn’t expect for you to stay with him, not that he was complaining. After almost a year of it, the only thing that changed for him was his feelings.

He’s in love with you, and even though you don’t feel the same way, it sure as hell seems like you do sometimes.

Like the way you’re lying in his bed right now, clothed only with his comforter. Your head rests on his shoulder as you trace shapes on his arm. Friends with benefits isn’t ever supposed to go past the friend stage, but for Mark, he had always known it was only a matter of time.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, staring at you. With his back against his headboard, all sorts of things swirl through his mind when you look up at him.

“Do you ever…” You pause, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just feel like I could do this for a long time.”

His heart stutters in his chest. The moon is the only thing lighting you up, shining against your skin in a way that has him craving you all over again.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on.” You nudge him. “Don’t make me say it. You’re saying you don’t want to stay in this bed with me forever?”

But it’s different this time. He dreams about you. Craves you. Loves you. Even then, he can’t do it anymore. Your embrace no longer provides him comfort. If anything, it spreads poison deep into his heart, where it pulses and spreads throughout his body with every beat. You’re killing him slowly. Destroying him and breaking him apart with no remorse.

“Mark?” You sit up, tilting your head. “Are you alright?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He knows he shouldn’t. That he needs to put a stop to this before anything else happens. No matter how much you hurt him—knowingly—he could never do the same to you. He’s addicted to you in the worst ways. Every time he gets his hopes up in those tiny moments of dreaming that you love him too, he falls and crashes harder into the ground than the last time.

At that moment, he decides it’ll only be one more time. He’ll have you one more time, and then he has to be done.

The thought of leaving you tears him to pieces, but he has to stop letting you walk all over him. He needs love—real love, the kind that lasts longer than the duration of time you’re in his bed.

“I can’t fucking breathe around you,” he groans out, tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging you closer to him.

His lips find yours, mouths, teeth, and tongues clashing messily. You’re taken by surprise, but find your body molding into his anyway.

He wastes no time in sliding his fingers inside you, finding you wet and ready for him. Pumping his hand, he swallows your moans, letting out a few of his own at the way you feel around him.

Fucking addicting. Dangerous. Terrifying.

You wonder what’s gotten into him, but you don’t question it. His thumb presses against your clit, sending a jolt through your body. You cling onto his shoulders for dear life, not used to this side of Mark. He wasn’t necessarily gentle by any means, but he’d never been so blatantly rough with you before.

“Mark,” you whimper, grinding down on his hand.

“What?” he hisses, speeding up.

You reach down and find him hard and aching, ready to be buried inside you. His pace stutters a bit as you jerk him off slowly.

“Fuck me,” you demand, resting your forehead on his. “Give it to me.”

But you both know he’s already given you everything he could.

“God, all you fucking do is take.” He pulls his fingers out of you, finding his place between your legs and lining up with your entrance.

When he slams inside of you, you dig your nails into him and scream, the stretch taking a moment to adjust to.

“You’re so good at taking things from me,” he mutters, nipping down your neck. “So good at taking my cock.”

Your entire body flutters at his words and you arch into him, pulling him back down to your lips. The heat between you two is undeniable, the sweat already dampening his skin. You can barely catch your breath with how fast he’s thrusting inside you. Lifting your hips, you try your best to aid him, but your body can’t keep up with his.

“Who makes you feel like this?” he growls lowly, slamming into you. “Who fucks you ‘til you drool?”

“Mark,” you call out his name, scratching down his back.

As soon as his finger comes in contact with your clit, you shatter around him, not holding back any of your sounds as you spasm below him. He curses loudly, the lewd sounds of his skin slapping yours making you dizzy.

You wrap your legs around his waist. The new angle has your head spinning, and he’s able to get a little deeper than before. Everything about him is intoxicating, down to the way he fucks you through your orgasm.

His voice cracks when he moans and spills deep inside you, dropping his head on your neck. He only gives himself a moment there, one last second to breathe you in and remember what it feels like to be inside you.

He won’t do it again. He can’t.

“Holy shit, Mark.” You run your fingers through his hair, chuckling. “Where the hell did that come from?”

The last thing he wants to do is separate himself from you. He’s in love with you. He’d stay buried inside you all day if only you loved him, too.

He curses, pulling out of you and getting up from the bed to grab some clothes.

“Mark?” You frown, but he doesn’t look at you.

He knows if he gives you a chance to convince him, he’ll fall back into your trap. If he looks at you, he’ll remember he’s in love with you. It costs too much to keep you around—physically and emotionally fucking taxing.

“I’m gonna shower.” He stops in the door frame of the bathroom, clenching his jaw to stop it from quivering. “You shouldn’t be here when I get out.”

“What the hell?” You recoil in surprise, throwing the sheets off of you and standing up. Grabbing his T-shirt from the ground, you slide it over your head and approach him.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Keep the shirt as a parting gift.”

He hears you yelling at him through the door, but he masks the sound with the stream of water. Stepping under it, he’s determined to wash the last traces of you from him. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, but it’s no use.

You’ll forever be ingrained in him, no matter how hard he tries to get rid of you.

By the time he gets out of the shower, all traces of you are gone. You even made his bed, for fuck’s sake. He runs his fingers through his damp hair, sitting on the edge of the mattress and contemplating what the hell he’ll do next.

You’re poison. Everything about you is deadly, and he’s better off without you.

His heart pounds in his chest at the thought. He knows he is. That’s absolutely the truth, yet the tiny voice in the back of his mind tells him he’s making a huge mistake. That he’ll never find someone like you again.

Good, he thinks to himself. I don’t want anyone else like her.

And for a while, he does well. But just like every other time before this one, he’s too weak to escape you.

He calls you before the fucking week is through.