#so imagine yourself on his lap there heheh

[themeraldee]

YOOOO THE “figuring out how to control his strength” fic was SO GOOD, I saw spanking at the end of that, a wee request to expand on that idea mayhaps 👀

Kissing you for enabling me, mwah mwah mwah. I tried going with gender neutral reader for the last one but had to switch to female for this one. Hope that's ok! I'm happy you enjoyed the last one hopefully this one hits the spot!😉

[Masterlist] [A follow up to this]

18+ Only | 1.5k | Homelander x female!Reader | Communicating during sex. Spanking. Riding. Unprotected sex. A dash of dirty talk.

Homelander has been trying to get his paws under your clothes for the past hour of the movie you were adamant you should be watching together. ‘It’s my favorite movie!’ You had said earlier. And not that he has anything against sharing your interests, he loves having every piece of you to himself. But now you are warm and soft against him, cuddling and leaning into him in a way that pretty much puts you in his lap.

He inhales the lingering fragrance of the expensive hair products he got for you. Something in him stirring at the thought of how utterly he’s changing your life, marking you with his touch with every little change he’s making to your routine. Ever since he’s had you move into his penthouse he’s been meddling with every aspect of your life, wanting to add his touch. Just as a reminder that you were his. So anytime you spritz his choice of perfume you think of that and in turn he gets reminded everyday that you make the choice to be his again and again and again.

So it’s no surprise that he’s now peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, pulling you closer no matter how much you protest. “Come on babe, fuck the movie. We can finish it another time.”

“But it’s my favorite…” You pout like a child, trying to pull away but he’s having none of it.

“Shhh. Come on now, don’t be like this.” He’s nuzzling into your neck. His hands wrap around your body, resting on top of your tits, giving your nipples a pinch through the fabric. “Be a good girl for me.” 

Now that sends a shiver down your spine, slowly pooling heat in between your legs. It also gives you a great idea. 

“Yeah? Well, maybe you should spank me for misbehaving.” You’re not facing him but the cheekiness of your grin is audible.

However as much as you’d prefer him to lean into the dirty roleplay of it all, he pulls away, tensing up.

You turn to face him.

“Are you sure? You know I could hurt you.” He’s carrying his worry openly. But just like with the choking you know there’s nothing this man wouldn’t do for you. 

“We’ve been over this baby. Sometimes the pain just makes things feel better.” You caress his cheek, giving him a sweet kiss flush on the lips before you pull away and take matters into your own hands. You lay yourself over his lap, face down, wiggling your ass right in front of him.

Tucking your fingers underneath both the waistband of your soft luxurious loungewear and the panties he’s picked for you, you pull both pieces down to reveal the bare skin of your ass.

“So…maybe you could spank me for not giving you enough attention?” You try to tease him into it, shaking your hips gently to give him the green light.

This does the trick. Homelander places both his hands on your cheeks, giving them a squeeze, really just playing with the softness of the flesh before he remembers what he’s meant to be doing.

Slap.

“Holy shit! Oh-ohhkayy. Fuck. T-that was pretty hard.” His hand is rigid, hard, unforgiving. With his added strength it was definitely a lot for the first slap. So sharp it jerks tears out of your eyes. 

“Fuck—I’m sorry! I’m sorry.” You can hear the fear and panic in his voice. In this instance it’s both at the idea of hurting you and at disappointing you with not being able to do the act justice.

You gather yourself, as the sting slowly eases off. 

“No, no. It’s okay. It wasn’t bad, it was just a lot. Just rub it a bit. It helps with the stinging.” His hand is barely touching you now, almost worried that he could cause more damage but he rubs your sore skin anyway. His touch is soothing. His hands are perfect. Unmarred, not a single scar or blemish and you feel the softness melding right against your ass.  

“Next time, keep your fingers together. Keep your hand loose, relaxed. Don’t make it too stiff.” You give him instructions, not wanting to dissuade him from continuing. It may have been hard and definitely a slap you’d be more likely to handle better as the spanking went on rather than from the start but it was still exhilarating. 

“Homelander,” you say his name, to break him from the trance while he’s still rubbing your ass gently. And as much as that feels good you really want to get the party started so you convey the need for more with a little, “please?”

He takes your instructions to heart and he slaps your ass again. This time a little gentler. With his palm less splayed open it makes a deeper sound which is just music to your ears. 

“Oh fuuuck.” And it feels just as good as it sounds. Really good. Its gentle sting burns through your skin, thoroughly wetting your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. 

“Was that better?” He asks with gentleness you never expected him to be capable of.  

“Y-yeah.” You slurp back the saliva you feel pooling in your mouth. “It was perfect.”

He takes that as his hint to continue as he lands another. And another one. And more. All in the same spot. Your skin is getting brighter and brighter red. The burn is making your toes curl and your pussy throb.

The more you moan the more he spanks you, alternating between your cheeks until they’re both screaming bright red. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re leaking all over me.” Homelander says in an almost incredulous tone, as if he’s surprised that pain could make you this riled up. Finally, he sees it for the pleasure it gives you.

“Uhh, s-sorry.” You slur, drooling, already having melted into the couch. 

“You’re really fucking kinky, you know that?” 

You laugh at that. “What can I say? I know what I like.” 

“Clearly.” He ran his hand down the hot, red skin, making you hiss. His hands settled in between your cheeks, spreading them out while his other hand made its way to your pussy, sliding his fingers through the mess you made of yourself. 

“My, my, that got you excited.” He shoved two fingers in, meeting no resistance as he pumped them in and out. Even with the TV playing in the background the squelching sound of you is still obscenely loud. You should be embarrassed, really, but it feels so good to finally have something soothe the throbbing pain that’s been building up with each slap. 

“Fuuck. Can I have you, please?” You whine out, really just wanting to get pounded into the couch while you’re feeling all woozy.

“So you want me to spank you, and now you want me to fuck you? See, good girls participate. So hop on sweetheart. You gotta work for it too.” Now he was getting it. With his reservations out of the window, he slips right into teasing you.

You feel yourself flush and throb at his words. He’s so good to you. No matter what, he always makes you feel otherworldly.

With his help you peel yourself off the couch, straddling his lap where he’s pushed down his pants. His cock already hard and flushed red. Just like your cheeks.

You sink down on him, letting out a whimper when your cheeks meet his thighs. The skin on skin contact burns, reminding you of each slap you received. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, but really you just want to be close to him.

He kisses you, as if he’s been starved for it. This whole time you were facing away from him so it’s not like he could have enjoyed your gasps and moans against his lips.

You ride him as hard as your thighs allow, chasing the high of feeling full after the empty feeling you had to take each slap with. With each bounce your ass meets his thighs and your eyebrows pinch together in pain. Good pain. You’re sure he can feel just how blazing hot your cheeks feel.

Homelander grabs your ass from both sides, helping you up and down. His hands squeeze the bruising flesh, making you gasp for air.

“Good?” He asks as he massages the flesh, catching you off guard by another slap.

“Yea-AH!—s’good. Really fucking good.” You mumble, your speech slurring as you lean your forehead against his. It was intimate and debauched at the same time and it didn’t take either one of you long to finish. His cock was hitting you just right and with the added sting of your skin and the occasional slap he landed on alternating cheeks you unraveled on his lap. As you cling onto him with spent, burning thighs he finishes inside you with a few more strokes and you fully collapse into his arms. 

“See? I told you it’d be fun.” You’re panting against him, trying to calm your poor body down. Spent, satisfied and still burning up. You wonder how long you’re gonna feel that everytime you sit.

Hopefully for a while.

“Mhm. You got any more of these great ideas?”

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic): @infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss @hom3landr @mrsdesade @nommingonfood

[princessbrunette]

All i can think about is rafe cameron buying you stupidly expensive lingerie sets for christmas😵‍💫 and then after breakfast he asks you to model them🤭

SANTA BABY ♡

gettin me in the festive spirit hehehe this made me wanna spend xmas with the cameron’s so bad :((

cw: christmas duh, family bonding time, i aged Wheezie down to be like 6 years old bc i think it would be cute idk LMAOOO , suggestive themes but nothing too crazy ❀

At his core, Rafe Cameron liked to think he was a family man. He’d often flip out, misbehave, and shit talk his family members it’s true, but Christmas was a time he liked to put it all behind him (Atleast until the new year starts, and he can start up his usual BS)

As you can imagine, Christmas at the Cameron’s was something extravagant. Humungous white christmas tree with silver decorations at the centre of the house, the outside of the house decked with lights that required enough power to start up 3 yachts, fake snow on the porch and Frank Sinatras Christmas album playing round the house at each corner. The years had only softened Ward, and whilst he could be cruel, hard on Rafe and borderline forgetful of Wheezies existence — Christmas was where he shone brightest, just wanting to do right by his kids and now, you, his sons girlfriend.

Receiving presents from the family was a whole different ballgame to your usual Christmas at home, Ward having grinned ear to ear when he handed you the box with the Tiffany’s heart tag charm bracelet glittering under the Christmas lights of the early morning (Wheezie being Wheezie woke everyone up at 6AM sharp.) Rafe, who’d insisted you’d curled right up to his side on the couch wearing his robe resisted an eye roll, his dad always having to out do him, but you seemed elated and he felt his heart warm.

They went all out, Rose handing you a literal 90’s Blumarine runway piece she’d simply overheard you talking Rafes ear off about, the next 5 minutes spent by you and Sarah fawning over it. Sarah’s gift was next, a set of SKIMS dresses you’d been saving to your Pinterest which she couldn’t help but notice, and of course Wheezie proudly handing you a glittery macaroni necklace she’d crafted you at school, which you had no choice but to act like it was the best gift of all.

Come Rafe’s turn, he simply offered his family a smile and patted your side, turning his head to look at you. “I’ve got her presents in my room, figured I’d give it to you privately.” He teases, ignoring Sarah’s ‘Barf’ comment from her cross legged position on the floor beside her little sister.

The family dispersed for a little while, Sarah helping Wheezie set up her new toys on the carpet infront of the tree, Rose and Ward going to start up the food in the kitchen (Ward insists on cooking everything themselves instead of having the chefs do it, because it was tradition.) Before you could wander in there and offer your help, you were being pulled back gently by the arm into your fluffy robe clad boyfriend wearing a poorly masked excited smile. “What, you don’t want your present from me?”

He slides a box from under his bed when you get up to his room again, covered with thin pink gift paper to hide the logo. He sits on his chair, robe falling between his legs and bare knees exposed outwards. “C’mon, sit on santas lap.” He grins and you mirror him, skipping over, happy and spoiled and perching on his leg. He puts the box in your lap and you peel away the paper to see the Agent Provocateur logo with the iconic black ribbon. You widen your eyes at him as if to say ‘Okaaaay, good job’ before wedging your fingertips carefully beneath the cardboard lip and lifting it, seeing 5 sets before you that was perfectly accustomed to your taste.

You remember your trip to the city with Rafe, it was business of course — but you were happy to tag along and walk alongside him watching him handle things for you and his family. You’d spotted the fancy lingerie store, practically pressing yourself up against the glass of the window as you look inside rambling about how you had so many of the sets saved to your Pinterest, pointing out each with your finger smushed to the glass. Rafe nodded distractedly, phone pressed to his ear, leaning on his hip in his gridded shirt and khaki pants that fit too good, before gesturing to you with his thumb that the two of you needed to get moving again, or else you’d be late to the appointment with a buyer. You pout and peel yourself away from the store.

But that was like what, September? Did he go back and buy it all for you? Order it once he’d returned home with you? You’d know Rafe to hold a grudge, but didn’t know his memory served in a positive manner too. “Rafe…” You coo, plucking out the sets and holding them up to admire the intricate lace detailing, spotting matching garters and whatever else you’d mentioned laying in the box. The thought of him fumbling through your underwear drawer trying to figure out your bra size made you giggle, wrapping an arm around his neck in an appreciative squeeze.

“How’d you remember?” Your voice was high in awe, wanting to hold on to this sweet side of Rafe forever.

“Please, I pay attention sometimes y’know.” He smirks modestly, eyes on the box as he admires his work. “So you like it? Yeah?” His hands finding your hips and giving them a soft squeeze.

“Love it, Rafey.” It comes out muffled, because you’re busying yourself with pressing big wet kisses to his cheek, and then eventually his mouth. He pulls away a fraction, lips still brushing yours and eyes cracking open.

“Gonna try it all on for me though, right?” He drawls in that classic Rafe way that you can never say no to and you nod so vigorously you nearly headbutt him. He pats your butt with a pleased hum and pecks you once more. “Atta girl.”

[colorlessjay]

I imagine that when s16 Dean pops back, s16 Cas will mention some super boring thing he and s6 Dean did together and be jealous. Hit tweet

Jealous Dean is a flavor of Dean I can never get enough of. Is it cliche? Yes. Can it be toxic? absolutely. Do I still seek it out in tags because it scratches the itch in my brain that goes 'hehehe'? almost daily

So here's my brain worms:

Dean's not an insecure man

okay because he is, but he's been working on it and Cas has definitely helped with his self-esteem over the years

And-

fuck it he's jealous. He's jealous and cranky about it and it's all his own fault

"Dean"

"What?" Dean snaps, jaw clenched as he sulks on his nice leather recliner. Yes, he's sulking. Shut up

"You're upset"

"Thanks, Captain Obvious"

"And Bitchy"

"Next you're gonna tell me I have a dick and balls"

Cas does a full-body eye-roll at Dean. Damn it it's cute but Dean's pissy and he's gonna stay pissy for as long as he can help it

"Years of marriage and being by your side, and your behavior still somehow alludes me." Cas places his book down on the coffee table before grunting. "All this crankiness over me baking your younger self a pie"

Dean can feel his heckles raise just at the thought. Because knowing Cas, it was that special honey apple pie he only bakes on Dean's birthday. That the little fucker (the asshole that is his younger self) didn't shower his husband in love and praise the second he got served a slice (not that Dean wanted his younger self to, only he got to do that). A slice made by the hands of a literal Fallen Angel of the Lord, blessed by God himself (Jack usually taste tested)

Dean sinks further into his recliner like the leather is eating him, all while Cas stands by his side, hands on his hips in a now familiar pose of annoyance, a single brow raised as he expects a reply

Jokes on Cas. That only turns Dean on

not the time

"Yeah well, the ungrateful shit didn't deserve it"

"The 'ungrateful shit' you speak of mowed our lawn, walked our dog and made me breakfast. All while trying to find a way back to his own timeline"

"Yeah well, I could've done all of that"

Cas gives him the 'Are you serious?' "You did, both 15 years ago and last week, at the same time. May I remade you, you are being jealous of yourself?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"It's ridiculous"

"It's not"

"it is" Cas insists, sounding exasperated, rolling his eyes again. Dean wants to kiss away the scrunch between his brows... Focus up, Winchester! "You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of"

"Oh so I got nothing to be jealous of when my hot angel husband was left alone with a sexually confused pent-up Hunter?" Dean scoffs and turns his head away "'slike the start of a shitty porno... Only I'm not playing the Hunter"

Dean grunts as a familiar weight lands on his lap, making him sink further into the recliner. Big hands gently grab his jaw and turn his head, locking eyes with those beautiful blue eyes that always hum with angelic grace

"Dean. You have nothing to be jealous of" Cas says slow and firm, like he's punctuating every word. His eyes dance with amusement as he stares Dean down "You wanna know why?"

Dean gulps, feeling his heart flutter already as he's hands find familiar purchase on Cas' hips "yeah..."

"Because" Cas leans close, breathing the words over Dean's lips "-

-------

-------

-------

So I realized there wasn't a part of this I could cut off so imma stop myself here and go to sleep

anyways, good night :D

[14dayswithyou]

Wait that spicy videos ask tho? 😳 can i be shameless in ur inbox for a lil…

100% consensual obvs but UMM—

Angel cockwarming [REDACTED] while he's working and he knows they're getting impatient. But instead of giving them what they want he pulls up one of the more… intimate recordings on another monitor to keep them distracted with, sound on and everything. 

Still going about his business, but occasionally taunting them, whispering in their ear and holding their chin to make sure they watch themselves getting fucked silly in the video.

"You make the most desperate face here."

"This is my favorite part."

"Imagine how amazing that’ll feel if y’just be good and keep waiting, Angel.”

hehehe >:3c

✦゜ANSWERED: CRYINGGGGG NOT THEIR 📯🦵 ASS HAVING THE ENTIRE VIDEO MEMORISED..... T_T /pos

Lots of NSFW under the cut!!

"Y'make the most lewd sound here... Listen." >>>> As he makes you look at the video while pulling you flush against his hips. Probably tries to see if he can recreate that sound as well while he has you sitting nice and snug in his lap.

"Look at how good y'look on my cock. You were practically droolin', angel. You must really like bein' stuffed full, huh?" Cue his smug ass looking down to see if you're making the exact same expression. If not, then they're immediately rocking their hips and gently sucking at the base of your neck.

"My personal cocksleeve always does such a good job. But Y'already know that, don't you? 'Course you do, 'can feel you squeezing around me right now. Y'feel amazing... Fuck." While his warm breath fans over your ear — but other than that, he's barely paying attention to you >:(

Won't let you cum until the video's finished playing and they've got you whining and breathless on his length. Bonus points if you can't stop yourself from rutting/grinding against them.

If you consent, [REDACTED] would probably pull up his webcam and record this session as well while he's typing away on his computer.

Tells you to be patient and sit still while they work, but they're literally not typing?? He's just casually running his hands up and down your thighs?

Some obscure program has been idling on their desktop for the past hour, yet [REDACTED] hasn't moved from his spot against your neck — not has his hands left your chest and aching sex.

Probably makes the excuse of "staying inside you so that his cum doesn't leak out"......... T_T Then hits you with da "You did so well for me, so I'll let you pick. D'ya wanna be full of my cock? Or my cum?"

[captain-hawks]

Happy Spicy Saturday Dee!!!

Methinks a certain winged hero, the man himself, one Takami Keigo, enjoys the occasional Sexy Phone Call when away on a long mission hehehe 🪽🪽(pretend those are red LMAO and thank you in advance!! 💙💙)

keigo takami x f!reader

c: masturbation, implied p in v

-> spicy sleepover

“So…I liked that dress you were wearing today.”

Keigo Takami may be hundreds of miles away right now, but you can hear the pout in his voice all the same as his feathers rustle noisily on the other end of the phone.

Thumbing at the hem of the soft material sitting gathered along the tops of your thighs as you lie in bed atop the rumpled sheets, you smirk, “I thought you would.”

Admittedly, you did buy the flowy little red dress with every intention of wearing it as a surprise when Keigo arrived home from his mission—he’s a sucker for seeing you in his favorite color, after all. But he’s been away for over a month now, much to your chagrin, so your impatience led you to post a casual photo wearing it instead (knowing just what kind of a response it would pull out of him).

“Did you…take any more pictures?”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah?” he asks, voice entering that familiar, husky territory you know all too well. 

“Check your messages.”

You know the exact moment that he clicks the notification, an audible groan punching out of him when he sees the images—

—the fabric of the dress soaked through with water and clinging tightly to your breasts, your hard nipples showing through—

—the straps of the dress lying loose down the sides of your arms, tits spilling out, bottom lip tucked between your teeth—

“Oh fuck, baby,” he exhales, making no effort to hide the distinct sound of his zipper sliding down as he undoubtedly frees his cock from the confines of his pants.

Arousal simmers hot in your gut as you imagine him spread atop his hotel bed, the pupils of his golden eyes blown wide with lust as he tips his head back against the pillow and begins to stroke his erection.

“There’s more.”

The next sound that escapes his lips is a little more feral, caught somewhere between a growl and a whimper when he sees them, and you smile with satisfaction. 

—your ass on full display as you bend over—

—the skirt of the dress rucked up, your legs spread to reveal the slick leaking from your cunt—

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, and you hear him spit into his palm, each heavy stroke of his palm against his cock punctuated with a wet, slippery squelch.

“One more.”

—

Honestly, Keigo’s not sure he can handle any more. 

His cock is painfully hard, flushed red and throbbing, and if the heavy ache of his rapidly tightening balls is anything to go by, he’s worried his cum might end up on the ceiling if he doesn’t snatch the box of tissues on the nightstand in time.

But his finger automatically hits the play button on the video nonetheless, and he fucking chokes as he’s treated to the sight of you teasing your folds with one of his stray feathers, the fluffy red barbs stained dark with your sticky arousal. 

He’s going to fuck you in that dress every night for a week when he gets home.

“This isn’t fair,” he whines, pumping his cock harder in earnest, hips canting upward off of the mattress as he desperately fucks his fist.

Your responding laugh is breathy and innocent, but then you let out a little moan, and he knows you’re touching yourself to the sound of him jerking off.

With each rapid stroke up and down his shaft, he imagines all the ways he’s going to fuck you in that goddamn dress—

—atop the kitchen counter, your hands threaded in his mussed blonde locks, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his hands shoving up the skirt of the dress and digging into your hips as he buries his cock inside of you—

—his hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your moans as you writhe in his lap on the couch out on your apartment’s balcony, dress fluttering in the warm summer breeze—

—up against the door inside of a restaurant bathroom, his patience drawn thin by the tantalizing swell of your tits across the table all night—

—you on all fours atop the mattress, whining and begging him for more as he pushes up the dress and palms the globes of your ass before burying his face in your cunt—

Keigo comes with a shout, hips stuttering as the pleasure of his climax rolls through his body in a wave of liquid heat, barely grasping a tissue in time to partially catch the flood of cum that sprays from his cock, half of it painting his chest. 

When you’re both sated, breathing heavily in tandem on either side of the phone, he looks at the mess he made and murmurs tiredly, “Send me the link for the dress so I can order you more...can’t promise I’m not going to ruin that one.”

[eebeewrites]

HELLO!! I know i’m not the original ask for the mafia elf, but I did have a idea. I imagine that reader has been working for Ronan for some time and they closer and the reader gets super close to the kids. Almost like a mother figure to them. Then one day while the reader and the kids were outside in the garden, planting flowers or just taking a walk or anything. They get attacked and I imagine like there was like sniper trying to shoot at them from the outside and the reader defends those kids with her LIFE!! Reader would get the kids to safety but would be injured and Ronan would take care of her/ nurse her to health himself and praise her kinda for protecting his kids and basically worshipping her because why wouldn’t he. Reader literally took a bullet for one of those kids. I would imagine the kids would feel terrible the reader got hurt because of them and reader would comfort them when they were feeling better. Yea i have not stop thinking about this fic since i read it, i think i have a slight problem.

Bestie I have not stopped thinking about it since writing it thank u for the sauce HEHEH

This part is gonna be hella long to fill in some gaps but!! That’s okay :) also I gave the twins names YAY

Mafia Boss Elf DILF BF x !Femchubby Reader Part 3

Part 1-Part 2

It didn’t take long for Adriel and Amara to get attached to you once you officially started. As the weeks passed, the three of you became inseparable. You didn’t know much about what being in a mafia family was like, and despite the word ‘family’, it seemed Serena’s attitude towards them wasn’t entirely uncommon. Some treated the children as their own, while others didn’t acknowledge them. The twins stayed on their ‘floor’ of the house for the most part, the floor with their rooms, a play room any kid would dream of having, and even a small kitchen so they wouldn’t need to disrupt the other adults for snacks. With you around though, they were much happier, and much less lonely.

Ronan had been gone for a few days, a trip you all knew about well in advance. It was never easy when he was gone for extended periods of time, so you let them eat a few more sweets and stay up just a little later. Amara rested on your lap asleep, while Adriel calmly worked on a Lego set on the floor.

“I miss daddy,” he mumbled, looking through the pieces in the box.

“I know, sweetheart,” you cooed. “He’ll be back in a few days.” Truthfully, you missed him too. He was always busy; your interactions had been minimal since the night by the pool, but you still couldn’t get him out of your head. The glances he gave you were affectionate, but that was all he had time for it seemed.

“I don’t like when he’s gone. Everyone’s mean when he’s gone,” he shrugged, still looking down at the pieces.

“What do you mean?”

“The people that aren’t important. They’re mean.”

His bluntness made it hard to hide a smile. “Well, you said it yourself, they’re not that important, right?”

“No, but they’re really mean.” He sat the blocks down before sitting back down on the couch, resting parallel to his sister. “Serena said that we’re annoying.”

“Of course she did,” you thought. “That’s not true. You’re both very sweet kids. I think…” you let out a sigh. “I think she’s just a bit of a meanie to everyone,” you smiled.

“She is! I don’t know why she’s so mean to us,” he mumbled, curling up. “We never even did anything, she’s just always mean.”

“Sometimes people are just like that, unfortunately. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, they’re just unkind.”

“I guess. I wish everyone could be like you, or daddy. Daddy’s nice to everyone mostly. Unless they’re mean to him, then he’s not nice.” He shrugged, “but that’s okay, cause they were mean first.”

A bit of a convoluted way of looking at the situation, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Well, remember he loves you very much. Okay?”

Before he said nothing, he sat up and wrapped his arms around you. “I hope he comes home soon.”

You returned his hug, “I know, buddy. I do too.”

- - - -

Only a few more days, and he was back. It was a surprisingly normal scene; he walked through the door, and the twins ran to his arms immediately.

“Daddy!” They called out in unison, clinging onto him.

He was overjoyed, “I missed you both so much!” He kissed the top of their heads, holding them both tight. The way he held them and hugged them after a trip like this was telling; he acted as if he’d never get to hold them again. Every time he came back, it was a sigh of relief. He may have put on the mask of a hardass, but there was nothing more he loved than his two kids.

You were slowly approaching second place.

He looked over to you and smiled. You wanted to give him space for him and his kids, so you kept your distance as they told him all about the things you all had done while he was gone. Showing him drawings and progress in games, talking about the movies and shows you all watched. They were bouncing off the walls at his return, but it wasn’t long after that they started to calm down. They had used all their energy, speaking to him quickly and running around to show him their drawings and schoolwork. The two of them laid on the couch; tired, but happy.

“Alright, let me talk to her so I can know if you were really good,” he smiled, tussling their hair. They quietly protested as he walked away, both offended by the notion they could be anything less than perfect angels. Their complaints didn’t last, as they fell asleep shortly after.

“How were they?” He asked quietly.

“Great. They’re good kids, I didn’t have any issues other than what’s to be expected,” you shrugged.

He paused, “…what’s to be expected?”

“Usual stuff. Not wanting to do their schoolwork, or chores, or eat vegetables. Typical kid stuff. But even then, they did quite well. For being so spoiled, they’re incredibly sweet,” you smiled.

He looked back at them as they slept. “Good. Could I talk to you for a second? Privately, upstairs.”

“Sure,” you nodded, following him up to his room. He shut and locked the door behind him before looking back at you.

"Look, I'm sorry I just kind of...left."

"You had responsibilities, I understand."

"No, not just that, I..." he trailed off. "When you first came over."

Right. That.

You had slept with him, and then he disappeared. The next morning, you woke up with a gun to your forehead. You weren't sure what to say in response; part of you assumed that maybe it was just a one-time thing. After all, you certainly couldn't be the only woman in his life; Serena made that very clear. You looked away, biting your lip. "What about it?"

He walked closer to you, "I don't want you to think that was my plan. To just...sleep with you, then leave."

Were you upset about it? Absolutely. Yet you didn't feel like you should be. What did you expect with a man like this? In this 'profession'? Shouldn't you just be lucky to still have a job at all? "It's...it's fine," you sighed, starting to walk away.

"No, it's not fine," he grabbed your wrist. You turned to look back at him, watching as he stepped forward. "You deserve better than that. If you'd allow me, I want to give you what you deserve."

You couldn't resist the look in his eyes. If anything, engaging further with him romantically was a worse idea now than it was when you first met him. Yet when he moved to kiss you, you didn’t pull away; you moved towards him.

He held your face in his hands, kissing you sweetly as he pulled you close. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment. Who knew how long it’d last?

He pulled away for moment, looking down at you. “Think you can be quiet?”

There was no denying it, you wanted him. “I can…but I don’t think we have much time.”

His forehead pressed against yours, “then we’ll need to be quick. I don’t think I can wait until tonight,” he took your hand once more, moving it to feel his hard cock underneath his slacks.

You looked down where your hand was, before slowly starting to move it back and forth. You didn’t know how long you had until the twins woke up, and with how chaotic things were, you’d take any opportunity you could get. You started to undo his belt, the same way you had the first time. His cock was hard, eager to feel you.

You got on the bed, resting on your hands and knees as he pulled your pants down. He rubbed you through your panties, pleasantly surprised to feel you already getting wet. He pushed them to the side, rubbing the outside of your pussy with his fingers. You bit your lip, feeling his thumb run along your clit. He pushed a finger inside you, and you took it with ease. Normally, he would’ve spent much more time teasing you, but you were right; you didn’t have much time.

He lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing inside you. He held onto your hips, moving into you not so fast to make you scream, but fast enough for you to feel his entire length inside you. He held you tight, pulling your body as close to him as he could as he pushed into you.

You pushed against his thrusts, gripping onto the bedsheets as he fucked you. He had waited so long to feel you again, to touch you. He wanted so bad to ravage you, but that would need to wait for later; this would be just enough to tide him over until then. Yet he couldn’t help himself.

He pulled your panties down, taking everything on your bottom half off so he could get closer. This was supposed to be just a quickie, but you didn’t protest when you felt him slam back inside you. He reached a hand over your mouth, keeping you from being too loud as he enjoyed your pussy.

He leaned down, pulling your shirt and bra up. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you to straighten your back as he got even deeper in you. You looked to the side, watching yourself in the mirror. You could see his cock slamming into you, the way your pussy just took it, and how your chest bounced with every thrust. He smiled, “you like watching yourself? You like watching me fuck you?”

You nodded, trying to keep your moans quiet still. “Yes, it feels so good!”

“Gods, I missed this pussy,” he whispered. “So fucking tight, so wet for me.” He couldn’t help but admire your body from every angle, also looking back in the mirror to watch; the way your body reacted to his cock, shaking with each thrust, he needed more of it. “Fuck it,” he pulled out, getting quickly undressed before lying back down on the bed.

You got the message clearly; you straddled yourself on-top of him, lowering down onto his cock. He bounced you on his cock erratically, watching the cute little faces you made. You were so sweet, so wholesome, and now he got to fuck you like you were his personal cocksleeve.

He grabbed your ass before pulling you down to kiss him. You couldn’t last, and with how you gripped him, neither could he. He let out a grunt before cumming inside you, his seed painting your walls. In a way, you weren’t upset about it. Still, that was a problem you’d deal with later, falling ontop of him as his seed dripped out.

He wrapped his arms around your back, holding you close to his chest as he kissed your forehead. “Sorry I got carried away, but…hard not to, with a woman like you,” he smiled.

“I don’t hear them awake, so…it’s probably fine.” You stood up, moving to get dressed.

“Wait, stay.”

You turned to look back at him. “They’re probably going to wake up soon.”

“Then get dressed, and come back.” He stood up, putting on a pair of athletic shorts and the plain white undershirt he wore under his button-down. He got back in bed, eager to hold you. He was gentle afterwards, running his hands up and down your body, kissing your neck.

Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before you heard two simultaneous knocks on the door. “Daddy? Where’d she go?” They were looking not just for him, but for you.

“You can come in, we’re just talking.” He didn’t make any effort to get out of bed; they’d be none the wiser. They opened the door, and Amara’s eyes widened when she noticed her father’s arms uncovered.

“Can I get the markers?!”

He laughed, “you can, but be careful.”

She nodded her head before quickly running off. You looked at him, confused. “What is she doing?”

“She likes to color in my tattoos.” She quickly walked back in, holding a box of markers and climbing beside him. She uncapped one of them, and started to color in one of the roses on his arm a teal blue.

Adriel still looked to be a bit sleepy, his sister most likely had woken him up. He simply climbed up, and rested on top of you. “I didn’t want to get up yet…” he mumbled, curling up on your lap.

“You don’t have to,” you cooed. “You can go back to bed if you want.”

“But I don’t wanna be left out…”

You smiled, giving him a loving pat on the head. “Then you can stay right here.”

“Okay, mama.”

His words went right over your head, your focus solely on making sure he was comfortable. His father took notice, but said nothing, only letting a small smile form across his face.

Amara dutifully worked on coloring the tattoo, proud of work so far. “Daddy, can we go walk in the garden tonight?”

He looked outside, the sun nearly all the way set. “Baby, it’s almost fully dark outside. Why don’t we wait until tomorrow?”

“There’s lights though. We never go look at night!”

He didn’t have the energy to fight this battle. Besides, a walk together after he’d been gone so long didn’t sound like a bad idea. “Alright, fine. Finish that, then we’ll all go, okay?”

- - - -

The golden glow of the walkway lights illuminated the flowers just enough to satisfy Amara’s curiosity. The four of you walked and giggled, enjoying the peaceful night sky and the smell of the garden.

You noticed Ronan still had his gun with him. Did he truly feel like he might need it now? On one hand, you could never be too careful. On the other, it made you nervous. You hadn’t been around firearms that much, and seeing him with one constantly made you a bit uneasy.

“Are there flowers that color?” Amara asked you, pointing at the rose tattoo she had colored in.

“I’m sure there are. I don’t know if there’s roses that color though.”

“I’m gonna find one,” she said with a determined look. She informed her brother of her quest, and the two were running ahead, searching for teal colored roses.

You turned to him, the two children out of ear shot. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Do you…do you really feel like you have to carry a gun everywhere? Even in your own home?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Have things…happened before?”

He kept his answers short. “Yeah.”

An awkward silence lingered between the both of you. Perhaps it was a dumb question.

“Do you feel safe having it with you?”

He shrugged, “to be honest…” he looked up at the stars. “I haven’t felt safe in years. It makes me feel safer, but…I don’t know.”

In a way, it was a problem of his own doing. Still, it couldn’t be easy. You held his hand in yours, looking up at him. “I wish I could help.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but…no one can. Unless you have a magic button that would blow up every rival family, the FBI, and the DEA, then…maybe you could,” he joked, his fingers interlocking with yours.

“I don’t have that, but…if I can make things easier,” you stopped, resting your hand on his cheek. “I want to.”

He put his hand over yours. “Thank you.”

“Daddy, what’s that?”

“What’s what?” He asked, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

“The red thing.”

He turned his head, “what red-”

It was a sound you had never heard before. You had heard loud at concerts. At parties. At stadiums. This was a level of loud you were unfamiliar with.

It was a gun. A sniper rifle with a red laser pointed right at Amara’s feet. Now you understood why he kept a gun with him.

For a moment, there was panic. He froze. The children screamed at the sound, and so did you. Quickly, he gave you direction. “Get them inside, now!” He turned, drawing his weapon and running directly towards the source of the red, laser sight. You didn’t think twice about it, simply running in front of them.

They were completely innocent to their father’s work, and he had worked hard to keep it that way. They didn’t know of the brutality of the mafia, the bloodshed, the fear of FBI raids. He wasn’t a criminal to them. To them, he was simply dad; nothing more.

You did your best to stay calm; you knew if you panicked, they would too.

“What’s happening?!” One of them cried out; you were so focused on moving you couldn’t tell which one it was.

“We’re just playing a game," you said between breaths as you ran. "It’s a little loud, but if we get inside the house we win.” You kept your body in front of them, picking up Amara when she started to fall behind. You kept your eyes on the door leading back into the house. It was simple in theory; follow the path out the garden, get back to the pool, then get inside the house from the back door.

You had no idea where he was. You had cleared your mind of anything other than your goal; get inside, make sure the twins were safe. A minute later, the sound echoed again, the loud boom ringing in your ears.

Once the door was in sight, you focused on it. You opened it up, ushering them inside. They were shaken and crying, but they were safe. You turned to look back out at the backyard, scanning the scene to see if you could find where Ronan was.

The gunshot reverberated once more. This time, it was followed by a strange, stinging sensation in your shoulder. You touched your shoulder, the sensation of something warm and sticky staining your fingertips. That was the last thing you remembered before falling back to the ground.

- - - -

When you awoke, the first thing you noticed was the pain. It was a type of soreness you had never felt before. Every slight movement of your shoulder made it feel like you were being stuck with hundreds of needles. You just now realized where you were; you were in Ronan's bed, lying alone. You looked around, seeing him curled up onto a loveseat. His white undershirt was stained with blood; it could've been his, it could've been yours, it could've been someone else's. You had no idea.

The sun's rays poured through the window; dawn had arrived, and somehow, you were alive. You still weren't entirely sure what happened, but you were alive. That was enough for now.

Ronan slowly woke up, the sunlight hitting him directly in the face. You realized it wasn't just his shirt stained with blood, but his hands too. When his eyes met yours, he let out a gasp. "You're awake!"

"So are you," you said with a weary smile. "You alright?"

He let out an awkward laugh, "who gives a fuck about me, how are you feeling?" He stood up, walking to the side of the bed.

"It's sore, but...I'm okay."

"Just sore? Gods..." he sighed. "You got really, really lucky."

"What happened?"

He shrugged, pacing around the room. "I'm still not even sure. People can say what they want about most mafia families but...there's one rule everyone follows. No women, and definitely no children."

"So it wasn't one of the other families then?"

"I doubt it, unless some psychopath's been put in charge somewhere."

"Did you...did you kill him?"

He looked away from you, almost looking shameful. He nodded his head. "Yeah. I killed him." He had done such a crime tens, if not hundreds of times by now. Still, that didn't make it any easier to admit, even if this one had better motive than most.

"Maybe someone can identify him them, to figure out who works for.”

"He's not identifiable anymore."

You paused. He hadn't just killed the man, he had annihilated him beyond a point of recognition.

"You probably think I'm an asshole," he sighed, sitting back down in the chair. "You'd be right."

"Why would I think that?"

He shook his head. "I tried. I tried so hard to protect them. To protect them from...this. And I couldn't." He looked back up at you, "I know what you're thinking. That I'm selfish for still doing all this. That I should just quit."

Admittedly, he was right. He had endangered his children. He had endangered you. For what? Money? He clearly was in no short supply. Pride? Ego? Still, he was a loving father. He was sweet. He was kind. It couldn't have been that simple. "Can you?"

He shook his head once more. "I thought about it. Do you know how many times I could send those two to college? Over a hundred thousand. A hundred thousand degrees. I don't think there’s that many," he said with a weary laugh. "When I was younger, I wondered the same thing. Why my dad didn't just...quit. I get it now."

"What do you mean?"

"It was worse for him than it was for me. They knew his face. He couldn't even go buy a god damn loaf of bread at the store without risking the feds getting him. But if he quit, he'd make a lot of powerful people angry. If I quit, it'll be the same. If I turn myself in, then who's going to take care of them? Some asshole with a savior complex that does nothing but tell them how much of a dick I am? I don't know."

You weren't sure what to say. "You're doing the best you can."

He sighed, "that's what I try to tell myself," he reached into his pocket, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. He paused, taking a long drag as he collected his thoughts. "It's funny. I never thought I'd be a father. Whole time my ex was pregnant, I dreaded it. Slowest nine months of my life. Then..." he smiled, standing up and looking out the window. "Then everything changed. I remember the first time I saw them, I held them. I don't know how to describe it. It was as if the Gods themselves were telling me that maybe, just maybe, I could do something good. My entire life has been built off of perpetuating...suffering. I figure if I could give these kids a good life, then maybe...I don't know, it's stupid, but maybe I could put something good out into the world."

"You have. They're sweet kids." You weren't sure what else to say. There wasn't an easy answer. Quit, but anger every other criminal organization that relied on him. Turn himself in, but abandon his children. You couldn't fault him for trying to find the least detrimental option.

"Thank you. I'm...I'm sorry you got roped into this. Just tell me what you need, and I'll make it happen. However much money you need. Not just you, your family, whoever. Ten, twenty, thirty million, just whatever you need to get as far away from me as possible."

You raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

“You deserve to be safe. To be happy. Your family taken care of. It’s the least I can do.”

You shook your head in reaction but quickly stopped, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. “No, no, I’m not going anywhere.”

He was shocked. “Why?”

You didn’t know. You could’ve just taken the money, and be done with him, but…you loved those kids. You loved him. Hearing Adriel softly call you ‘mama’ as he slept on your lap. Amara begging you to watch her demonstrate her ballet steps. The way Ronan kissed you as he held you in his arms. Those were all things you weren’t ready to give up. “You invited me to be part of your family. I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled, slowly getting in bed next to you and hugging at your waist, careful to not disrupt your shoulder. “Thank you. I promise, anything in the world you want, anything you need. Say it, it’s yours,” he said before kissing your side.

“I just want…” you sighed. “For you and those kids to be happy. That’s all.”

“A bit of a tall order, but…I’ll do my best.”

Once he knew you were safe and stable, he showered, finally getting the blood and sweat off of him. He held you for what felt like hours, getting you whatever you needed. He hadn’t slept all night, but he didn’t see a point in it now either.

Just like the day before, a knock at the door. This time, a quiet, calm knock, followed by a tiny voice; Amara’s voice. “Daddy?” It was odd, hearing her be so quiet.

He rested on your lap, not bothering to move. “Yes baby?”

“Is she awake?”

He looked over to you; it would’ve been completely understandable if you weren’t up for seeing them quite yet, but you nodded.

“You can come in.”

She slowly opened the door. She was alone this time. She looked over at you; the bloodied bandages on your shoulder, your tired eyes; still, you met her with a smile. “Hi princess,” you said softly.

The sound of your voice sent her into a spiral, immediately bursting into tears as she ran towards your bedside. “I’m sorry mama,” she cried, her head next to your side. “It’s my fault.”

Ronan sat up, motioning for her to get into bed. “No honey, it’s not your fault,” he cooed, trying to comfort her as she crawled into his lap.

“But it is!” She stared at you with teary eyes, taking his place as she crawled out of his lap and onto yours. “I just wanted to see the flowers, I didn’t know this would happen!”

You ran your fingers through her hair, “it’s alright. I wanted to see the flowers too. Everyone’s okay now, it’s alright,” you reiterated.

“It was scary, and loud, and…” she looked back up at you, then at your shoulder. “It was scary seeing all the blood. I didn’t like it,” she sobbed.

“I don’t think anyone would have. But you were very brave.”

Her sniffles finally started to subside. “Are you gonna be okay?”

You slowly nodded. “I think so. Your daddy fixed me all up, and even if it’ll take awhile to be all done. I’ll be okay. I’ll just have to stay in bed for awhile.”

She was quiet for a second, looking at you, then at the television, then back at you. “Can we watch movies?”

You laughed, “we can watch as many movies as you want. Even the ones we’ve already watched eight times.”

She laid down, content with your answer as she got comfortable. You gently rubbed her back, and before long her brother had walked in. He didn’t say much, only resting between you and his father.

Ronan didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know who he had killed that night, who they worked for, and if they’d come back. Those were questions for others to figure out. For now, his job was to spend time with his family, which you had cemented your place in.

Part 4

I cried writing this lmao haha that’s how mafia work guys amirite aaaaaaAAAAAAA

I hope u enjoyed!!

TAGLIST: @damnitimasimp @sketchlove

[k-hotchoisan]

Omg I need to see 24. Cowgirl with Yunho

And if there is a video with it 👀👀

23. Cowgirl with Yunho or Cowgirl with Wooyoung

Awww I wish I did have a video but I don’t ~ but point still stands, save a horse, ride a cowboy (yunho)

Heheh enjoy!

Genres/Warnings: smut, Drabble, riding, cream pies, unprotected sex, dirty talk, size kink, bulge kink

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3

K’s 500 this or that masterlist here!

You came up with the idea of riding him, and the idea was brought up so casually, as if you were talking about what you had for lunch the day before, because Yunho had food go down the wrong pipe when he heard it. You blinked at him, confused at his confusion. Yunho is a pretty sizable male, and riding him was something you always wanted to try, and mostly because Yunho has never initiated you to ride him.

“Are you sure about that? I really don’t want to hurt you”, Yunho double confirms as he downs a glass of water. You nod. If missionary already had you clawing the sheets and screaming, just fucking imagine how riding him would be like. But of course, you would never say that to your partner.

Yunho rests his head against the pillows that press against the headboard, both hands flat by his sides. He doesn’t really know where to put them. You told him to just relax, but obviously it was a sentiment to yourself. He‘s rock hard and you’re soaking wet, and the both of you naked, might as well go all out. He’s groaning when you’re sucking him off, your doe eyes sending him into a spiral when his cock disappears in your mouth. You pull off when you see him grip the sheets.

“You can grab my hair you know”, you say before engulfing his cock whole again, and Yunho’s pretty hands immediately tangle with your hair, tugging gently as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shit, that’s so fucking good”, Yunho grunts, pushing your head down deeper as his cock hits the back of your throat. He twitches in you and give his cock a couple of bobs before you completely pull out, and Yunho releases your hair as he attempts to catch his breath. You’re slightly more comforted that he’s more lubed up at least. Yunho had fucked you with his fingers before you had him tugging your hair from the blowjob—another comfort.

You don’t know why you’re nervous now that you’re staring right into Yunho’s eyes as you climb onto him to straddle his lap. His hands are on your face, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. “We’ll take it slow okay?” He reminds you and you bite your lip as you nod.

Fuck’s sake, his cock is fucking huge now that you’re just looking down at it comparing to your pussy.

But at the same time, the thought of it just splitting you open just gradually turns your brain into mush.

You squat over his cock, as you slowly push in his tip in, feeling the pressure, yet at the same time, the more you take his cock in, the more fucking amazing it feels—the way your walls are hugging his cock snug and tight.

You look up at him, and your heart pounds even more—Yunho’s half lidded, panting slightly more, his core is tightening as well as his grip on your hips. For a moment, you worry that he’s suddenly faint.

“Are you okay babe? Should I stop?” You ask, with his cock half way in.

Yunho shakes his head immediately, as if desperate. “Fuck, don’t you fucking stop. Please.”

Ah, you get it now. And so you sink in deeper, and he gets even thicker. Your hands claw Yunho’s shoulder the moment his big cock is fully in you, and you gasp.

It’s taking Yunho everything he has not to just fucking cum in you—you’re so tight and warm around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, Yunho curses, his head sinking into the pillows. His cock is pretty much bulging when he’s inside of you and you’re biting back a cry from how filled you feel. He’s so fucking big. For a moment, the both of you stay still, the only thing you hear are pants from the both of you—well mostly Yunho trying to control his breathing.

“I’m gonna move now”, you try your best to voice out, and Yunho’s grip on your thighs loosen, and he nods through half-lidded eyes.

You begin to grind your hips, and soft moans escape your lips whenever you feel Yunho’s cockhead drag along your walls. Yunho’s breath is ragged, but his hands still finds yours on his shoulder and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“You’re taking all of me in you so well,” he sighs, kissing the back of your hand. “You feel so fucking amazing, babe.”

Soon enough, you’re lifting your hips and bouncing off his cock, your moans straight up turning into screams from the way Yunho’s impaling you. Yunho places your hands on his shoulders while his own slides down to your hips.

“So deep”, you sigh as you bite your lip, feeling the way his cockhead presses onto your cervix every time he drives his cock right into you. Yunho cups your face and pulls you in gently to plant kisses along your jaw as his hips thrust into you, and fireworks begin to burst behind your eyelids. Euphoria is beginning flood your senses as your abdomen tightens.

Yunho feels the way you’re starting to flutter around his cock, so he keeps up the pace, his eyes darting at the way his cock is pushing a bulge when you’re fully seated on him.

Your fingers are leaving scratches on his shoulders. Yunho strokes your sides, shutting his eyes to fight off the urge to just fucking breed you, and he coaxes you in the softest tone,

“Are you gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby. It feels so good, right?”

And you snap, your orgasm hitting you in waves as your thighs shake violently, your walls squeezing Yunho’s dick as he holds your legs down, making sure you cum on every inch of his cock.

Your eyes roll back and cries pour out of you as you lean forward with your arms wrapped around his neck. Yunho kisses your ear as he strokes your hair from behind, whispering sweet nothings into your ears, encouraging you to release all over his cock.

“Fuck, yes, yes. So fucking good. Oh my god, fuck”, are the words that only leave your lips before Yunho begins lifting you ass up again to fuck you from below and your mind is completely broken from the overstimulation.

Soon, Yunho is groaning and panting himself, desperate to chase his orgasm and he’s slightly more aggressive—biting and licking up your neck while desperately rutting into you until a cry escapes him as he stills in you.

“Cumming babe. Oh fuck”, he sighs, letting his release spurt your walls as his dick twitches after each load.

The both of you stay in that position for awhile before you pull away, taking Yunho’s face into your hands and giving him a peck on his nose, which he returns with a full on kiss.

“I think this might be my favourite position”

[r0-boat]

It's me again teehee~

I came with another request for headcanons because I'm thirsty for these men. So, let's imagine that the 5 kings + Belphegor are gonna do the mimir, but suddenly MC just enters into the room in flirty mode, starting to undress and they're wearing lingerie. Loved to see their reaction hehehe~✨

Aaaaahhhggggg

Going crazy for this ask!

Whb Kings+belphegor reaction to S/o in lingerie

Satan

He likes tight ribbon-like fabric that hugs your skin not too tight but just enough to show a little bit of your body pudge. Good Lord he loves pudgy thighs. If he sees just a little bit of that sweet naked body bulging through the fabric he will go Feral.

Speaking of feral you cannot have nice things with Satan. Any clothes he deems nice he will just tear it off your lingerie, especially lingerie which is not an exception. He will toy with the tight little ribbons with his claws slowly cutting it like he's unwrapping a little gift. Smiling like an idiot when he watches your chest or your thighs come free from the snug bindings.

He will still leave some of the damaged and discarded lingerie on you just so he can see you scratched up, marked your ass bruised, and the pretty little clothing now tattered and broken.

That's when he finally takes you, sliding his cock inside but not finishing inside you no... He wants to finish his masterpiece. Instead taking out his cock to stroke until he cums all over your body. If he could he would Take a photo of this you fucked out drunk and beaten scratched and bruised and save it on his phone screen.(He doesn't because you would kill him)

Mammon

One favorite? Why does he have to choose one favorite? Why can't he just buy and have you wear All of them. Yes master That's a good human, that's it, come closer, strip for him and give him a proper fashion show...

He politely asks you to show yourself turn around let him see everything, You may own him but that doesn't stop him from admiring who owns him. He is hard and he knows you're staring so he parts his robes just enough for himself to spring out. He wants you to know what You do to him.

At the end he still rock hard as he gets up to hug you from behind He asks you which one is your favorite. He likes all of them. And he really likes that you put on a show for him. He will definitely do this more often, He does have a third closet he doesn't use for anything so maybe that's where He will put all the sexy clothes and jewels he wants you to wear for him. He only wants you to wear these things because you own them everything he owns is yours.

He wonders how you would look in the fanciest get up not just lingerie He wants you to parade around your wealth in the fanciest of Tartaros parties. Well maybe you should wear the lingerie underneath,hehe

Leviathan

Wanting the tease the demons of envy you tied him up The rope you used to strangle him now tying his wrist so tightly. As a little treat you do have one of those strangulation collars around his neck just in case he gets a little too rowdy. And with a little extra treat a gag in his mouth. He glares at you if looks could kill you would be dead 20 times over snarling as he sinks his fangs into the rubber ball so hard you think it might break.

But his eyes immediately soften when you take off your clothes revealing soft white lace, He drinks you in, His heart pounding in his chest the urge the need to touch you yet not getting what he wants burning jealousy inside him. His mindswarming with thoughts of how long You have worn that underneath your clothes this whole time. You see his mind wandering giving you that look you know so well You pull on his choker.

He can't spit nasty words, He can't tell you to hang He can't break from his strangulation rope to fuck you till you can't stand. All he could do is feel the tightness in his pants tightening more as you break him down with each tug on his choker. He can't even buck his hips when you sit in his lap.

When Levi is done being difficult you finally let him go his eyes no longer filled with resistance dropping his facade to just pure want. When he finally touches you he looks as if he's in a trance.

Beelzebub

You wore that underneath your normal clothes as you went clubbing with him in Abyssos. He didn't even realize you were wearing that He didn't even know because he wasn't taking you to any of the sex clubs. It was just a normal night of fun until his hand slipped underneath your shirt his eyes widened. Now he wish he did to a sex club.

He thought his mind was playing tricks on him at first before dipping down again and... He never took you to a bathroom so fast he practically ripped off your normal clothes his breaths heavy. He has never been so hard in his life! There you are wearing this underneath your clothes The whole time no underwear no nothing just this!

He's upset that he didn't take you to a sex club so he could properly enjoy you but that will have to wait. For now he's going to take you in bathroom. He will push the Lacey clothing aside and fuck you His mouth and tongue running across the fabric.

After the quickie, which wasn't really quick because he lasted multiple rounds. Your clothes are ripped off but he didn't care He needed you back at the castle in his bed right fucking now carrying you in his arms His jacket over you.

Lucifer

You caught him off guard.... How dare you. He didn't even know you could do that. You child of Adam are full of surprises. He expected a lot of things when he turned his chair but not for you to drop your clothes. Sure he should have because you were a whore of a human being/affectionate But he did not expect what you were wearing underneath. The moment he took his eyes off the paper he was holding in his hand then unto you His eyes widened, His breath hitching. He turned around before getting up out of a seat.

You feel as though the end of your holes is near as he slowly walks up to you, He inspects you at first. Making a noise that you've never heard him make before It sounded like a hiss kind of? Or maybe a pur??

He knew the existence of lingerie but he didn't know he would see it's in person today. It is a surprise but to be honest a welcome one But he will have to punish you for your rather bold decision of showing it off in front of him. A punishment he is excited to enact.

Oh don't worry he will make you scream and rise but the lingerie will stay intact. He's having way too much fun playing and feeling the fabric as you ride and scream on his cock. You look beautiful... Like an angel, albeit a lewd one.

Belphegor

Lingerie soft fabric very comfy. Makes you look sexy makes him want to touch you 10 out of 10 would fuck you in his sleep again.

He prefers the lingerie that value comfort over sexiness. He will be obsessed with touching you when you wear that. He wants you to wear more things like that to bed. Being pretty much his teddy bear when you're wearing something He wants to make sure it's soft.

Tho no matter how much he loses sleep when he is trying to press his cock in between your flushed thighs he will not comment on that. Listen if sex helps beleth sleep that it should work on him.

He likes to play with the fabric well he drifts off. Pressing his whole body against you feeling the softness of your body and the softness of the fabric.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Ah, thank god <33

Since I don't have the balls to write this myself -- what about the bros with a very flirtatious reader-? One that just teases them non-stop throughout the whole day, and the bros punish them for it-?

(Ik this is a rlly boring idea but AKSKDKSNS)

First of all, it's not boring AT ALL! Do you know how much I love it when MC takes charge??? And this right here???!!! THIS IS GOLDEN HEHEHE! We need more confident flirty representation okay!!

No Rest for the Loving

Seriously you could be the biggest tease in all three realms. They thought they had seen everything with Asmo, but lo and behold, came along you. It was quite literally, getting harder to live with you in the same house. But there's only so much they can hold back until their patience runs out.

Lucifer face palms as you take a seat on his lap, offering to 'help with paperwork'. You've not even shifted yet, but he's already stimulated - knowing your cheeky tricks. And the fact that you've been constantly doing it the entire day. First in the meeting room and now in his room.

"You look extra tired. Look at all the lines on your forehead." You hold his face tenderly, pretending to kiss it better. "Ahaha, you look so much better when you're flushed red."

"Hmph, is that so?" Lucifer glanced up towards his door to see if it was locked. "In that case, you might look better like this." Papers flew and pens and quills scattered and fell off the desk as he placed you on it and laid you down.

You brace yourself as he grinds against you mercilessly. You throw your head back when you're almost at your climax and then he pulls back. You groan into your hands because you know he won't be relieving you for a while.

Mammon grumbled under his breath as he hung from the ceiling, waiting for you to stop laughing. "Are ya done laughing your head off yet? Can you get me down already?"

"Oh come on, you're asking me to go against Lucifer's orders to keep you like this, atleast let me have my fun won't you?" You cooed, running a finger down his chiselled abs exposed from hanging upside down.

"Oi! I told you to stop that! This is the fourth time! What's with you and my stomach anyway?!" He blushed furiously, his skin on fire from your fingers.

"I just like how it feels." You answered cheekily, as you untied him from the ropes. "Now there, all done. Now we're even."

"No..." You were about to leave when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, the other hand cupping your bottom. Squeezing and groping it as he pleased, it sent electricity up your spine. "We'll be even after I'm done with my turn."

"Ack! There's no way! I can't possibly win against you!" Leviathan said as he lost another round of the staring contest with you. "Also is it really okay for you to sit there and have an ice cream during this?!"

"What's wrong with the ice cream, I got you the Ruri one in your favourite flavour too didn't I?" You said, deliberately making a big show of eating the stick of ice cream in a erotic way. "My, my what are you imagining in that head of yours, Levi?"

Levi turned even redder at the accusation. Oh shit. Had you caught him staring at your tongue the whole time? "I'm not imagining anything! And besides you..." He racked his brain for a good one liner, inspireed by his many romance novels."Besides you couldn't handle me anyway!"

"Oh, do you want a tongue-off to put it to the test?" You regretted suggesting that seconds later. Now your endless moans were muffled by his long forked tongue invading your mouth. You tried to surrender the fight, grabbing his shirt in fistfuls, but he only shoved his tongue deeper inside in crazed frenzy, holding you firmly in place. This wasn't a fight you could ever win as his tail entered the picture too

Satan was trying so hard to hide how flustered he was. "MC, this is just getting silly now." He said trying very hard not to start gazing down at you just sitting on the floor, between his legs, head resting on his thigh. The cat ears on your head didn't help either.

"But I'm not even doing anything." You said with mock innocence, as if you hadn't made a show of crawling to him on all fours and plopped your head dangerously close to his growing arousal. "Oh, am I to blame for this?"

You turned around and grazed your hand on his crotch. He grabbed your wrist but didn't push your hand away. "Oh my, you could totally mess up my insides with this. If you know how to use it of course."

"Sure, I'll show you what I can do if you can put that pretty little mouth to use." You tried very hard to be confident but it all went down the drain now that you whimpered with his length hitting the back of your throat. He was determined not to let you walk for the next few days.

Outdoing Asmo in terms of teasing was no easy feat, but you managed it anyway. You combined his love for fashion and you very efficiently by wearing the most enticing thing you could find in his wardrobe.

All he had to do was walk in and see you sprawled on his bed, fidgeting with your phone. He gasped, dropping his many shopping bags - an impatient frenzy in his eyes.

"It seems you really like what you see." You chuckled at the obvious reaction his pants were too tight to hide. Within seconds he was on top of you, leaving lipstick stains over your exposed skin and somehow skillfully fucking you with the outfit still on. It was after the first 8 rounds you realised what a mistake you'd made.

"Oh no MC, don't drift off just yet! There's a few more outfits I'd like to fuck you in." He said, pulling you onto his lap. Your head lulled to the side, resting on his shoulder. What the hell were you thinking tempting the Avatar of Lust?

The one thing you learnt about the twins is that you cannot tempt them while they are in the same room. Whether they take turns or tag team to pleasure you, you are always unable to function properly for the next few days.

Belphie takes his revenge by lazily thrusting inside you, constantly dangling you over the edge of your release.

You beg and plead but he doesn't increase his speed until the very end, where even his hands add to the party. "See how easy it is to turn the tables on you? You thought I'd let you go easy after how grinded against me in the crowded bus?"

Beel goes quiet, even apologetic right before he goes feral. As if he knows exactly how badly he's going to ruin you.

The thing about the way he overstimulates you with tongue is that you can't tell if he's being deliberate or if his hunger is just that intense. And you never ever know when he's going to be full. "I'm sorry MC, one last time I promise...it's hard to resist your taste... especially since you offered..."

[kimingyuslover]

Photographs

synopsis : wonwoo's heartbreaks.

word count : 1,123

pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader.

genre : angst.

warnings : TEARS, TEARS & TEARS hehehe, wonwoo's kind of an asshole(???), mingyu makes appearances, Seojun & Junseo are twins (your sons), mom!reader.

★ ik the poll says fluff, but i can't ignore this idea t__t

☆ check out my other works > main masterlist

“If you don't want this, you can just tell me, but i'm not going to give up on them” said you as you hold your tears from falling to your lap, you know there's consequence for your doing and you're okay with that, you're ready to handle the responsibility.

Although you're still at fault for this, so does wonwoo. this wouldn't happen if both of you were in your right state of mind that night.

You're willing to give anything for this, whereas wonwoo not. Having kids, especially before the marriage, was never on his luck calendar, so you announcing this to him was such a surprise.

“I think,” there's a pregnant pause in his words, but you already promised yourself that what happens today will determine your future.

“I think we should break things up” he finally finishes his line.

You felt like there's a sharp knife running through your chest, your breath felt heavy, and your eyes started to get more wet.

“Okay then, i'll be gone in the morning”

You got up from the couch, heading towards your shared bedroom to take your personal belongings. You packed half of your things yesterday, just in case your nightmare comes true, and tonight, it does.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

Wonwoo woke up from his deep slumber, unaware of anything. The only difference he felt was he's not sleeping in your bedroom, he's sleeping on the couch, which caused his back to be in pain.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw the bedroom empty.

The only thing he saw on your bed was the little note, a note that you wrote days prior.

To my dearest, wonwoo

hi, wonwoo

you'll probably see this when i'm gone. I wrote this long before you knew about them. I don't mind if you don't want them, but I want to keep the babies.

I've already imagined your rejection in my head, and every time it comes, my heart hurts.

I really thought we're endgame, but that's only in my mind, isn't it? When I first saw them, I almost didn't believe it.

Me, too, am scared to be a parent, but we have to pay the price for our happiness, right?

I love you, Jeon wonwoo.

When this note passes to you (i'm hoping it's not) i'll just hope you'll find someone better, who fits into your categories of women, and is not dumb enough to be pregnant with your babies.

sincerely & with love,

your (ex?)girlfriend, y/n

A single tear drops from his right eyes, and the argument from the night before comes to his mind.

His sharp intonation, sarcasm, hurtful words that we swear he would never throw at you, and the b word that he never wants to say to you.

Suddenly, everything became as clear as the sky yesterday.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

“Junseo, Seojun! Next time, wait for Mommy if you want to cross, okay? I'm so worried for both of you!” you said to your sons as they looked at the ground beneath their feet.

Guilty start building up their body, and tears start gathering on their eyes.

“Mommy sorry, I'm sorry, let's go walking again, okay?” you said to them as you put your hand on Seojun's left cheek and the other on Junseo's right cheek.

They nod at you before telling you that they're sorry and won't let it happen again, which caused you to hug them tightly.

The three of you want to go to a museum near your hotel.

There's a new museum that will be opened for the first time for the public to see, and it's a photography museum, there'll be the owner of the museum there too, considering that this is their grand opening.

You circled around the photos with a glass of champagne being served by the waiter there with junseo on your left and seojun on your right.

You feel your knees are stuck on the floor below you. There's a photograph of your last vacation photo with wonwoo, before the announcement, before the night gets messy.

You read the description.

Kim

my greatest, painful love, first and last love

06-06-26 There were 11 days left until my birthday, but I made my greatest mistake and regret.

“Mommy? Why are you looking so sad?” One of the five years old asks you. He can see the way your eyes start to widen in disbelief.

Him and his twins are concerned about you, so Junseo decided to ask you.

Realising you're still with your sons, you wipe your tears that threaten to spill anytime soon.

You smile at them and give them a peck on each forehead, then tell them that you're okay.

Your eyes dart to the next photograph, a silhouette of a woman.

Seojun and Junseo make a silent discussion. You're taken aback when Seojun said

“Isn't this you, Mommy?”

You read the description again.

Kim II

I've found the love of my life in you, my greatest desire.

It's the same.

You remember it, this has been wonwoo's homepage wallpaper on his computer since he took it a month before the incident.

Your breaths are now shallow, and when you start to feel dizzy, someone catches you, just on time.

“my love! Are you okay? Do you want to go home?” You heard a familiar voice behind you.

Mingyu's voice sounds so concerned. This does not happen often to you. Mingyu's now asking about a doctor who maybe could help you.

A middle-aged woman came forward and started to help you breathe.

Wonwoo gets confused when he sees a lot of people surrounding a spot in his museum, so he wants to check it.

Wonwoo halts his action when he sees you, well and alive, with a man beside you, and there's two little boys around you.

He feels his eyes getting soaked. You really didn't give up on them 5 years ago. They're here, on his exhibit.

His heart breaks when he sees you and them. The guilt is still there even after all these years.

Wonwoo knows what's behind you. It's a photograph of memory of you before the breakdown.

This whole exhibit was presented to you, his muse.

Wonwoo didn't even get to tell his messages that he kept for you to hear because when you get back up on your feet, you start to walk out.

“Honey, do you want to go to the hospital nearby?” The man beside you asks, a little bit loud because wonwoo still can hear it.

“No need, love, let's just go back to our hotel room, come on babies” you ushered Mingyu, Junseo, and Seojun.

Yes, wonwoo breaks his heart again.

All those heartbreaks were all his fault.

[backtocarousel]

ok so my reoccurring headcanons r that chan

1. is an ass lover and def eats ass with no shame. he would do anal with u but hes got bcs (big cock syndrome) n is too afraid he'll hurt u so settles for his tongue and fingers, but mostly his tongue <3

2. would probably suck ur toes in missionary with ur legs up if he's really feeling it. likes pretty dainty anklets n got u one that has a little 'c' charm on it.

3. he is not the stereotypical hardcore dom & rather gentle (ideally a dom!switch) but he still pounds ur shi and likes to be called daddy when the time's right. it's an ego boost, but on normal days when he says "moan my fucking name, baby," he means chris!

4. full blown studio sex never happens but if he's really feeling it he'll hold u on his lap and finger u until ur practically dislodging his fingers from how hard u came, then he's making u do it again when u finally relax

5. he loves making sex tapes hehehe there's so many filmed on one very specific camera he owns

last one (i can go on and on i'm crazy)

6. taught u how to touch urself with ur back pressed to his chest 100% for his own enjoyment and edge u relentlessly under the guise of u "not doing it how daddy taught you."

this made me saur insane i cant even explain how much..... i love u whoever u are ☹️☹️ someone should write a fanfic using these hehe

1. yes pls yes yes anal is a controversial thing for most people but sorry everyone who follows me... i love it ☹️ his boombayah would NOT fit . definitely not. give me that skilled tongue boy

2. i think he'd just suck ur body ALL over. the c charm... can you imagine him giving you a necklace, bracelet and anklet with them all having the 'c' charm? oughhh. my stomach

3. PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE. U GET ME. i dont mind the hardcore dom chan but softie dom chris is my life and i will defend it forever. he gets the stress of taking care of everything out of u and loves getting pampered by u (is that the right word? excuse my bad english ueueue) calling him daddy while domming him is my dream so sorry

4. with his sexy fingers 🤤 he's probably a bit of a neat freak when it comes to his studio dont u agree or nah

5. STOP BC THATS WHAT I ALWAYS THINK. i thought of it more like him having a really deep folder named recipes or smt bullshit like that which contains him pounding the life out of u fucking u silly

6. oughhhhhh doing this on a chill night room illuminated only bu scented candles the movie infront of u both long forgotten while you press against his chest feeling his huge cock watching you finger yourself ☹️ i love u bangchan

[otomiyaa]

Sugawara x Ticklish Reader

Romantic + 06. "Could you... do that to me?" Requested by @carrie-tate for my 1K Followers Event 🌻

Dating Sugawara was quite something. You only met him after he graduated from Karasuno High School, but from regular reunions and hangouts with his friends from his volleyball days, you knew he was the friendly senpai back then.

"Sehehenpai noooo! Gaaaahh!" You watched how the lively Hinata Shouyou ran around the park, chased by Suga who eventually caught him around his middle. Pulling him down in the grass, he then started to tickle Hinata mercilessly.

"Woah...." you mumbled, watching them. You weren't together that long yet and there were many things to discover. Still, seeing him behave like a tickle monster was something you never could've imagined. To you, he was more the gentle massage-type of guy.

"Yeah, haha," Daichi laughed, shaking his head.

"Hasn't changed at all," Asahi said.

"What, you think that graduating would stop me from doing this?" Suga with excellent hearing called out despite Hinata's hysterical cackles.

"SPAHAHARE MEEEE!" He was so dramatic, but you couldn't blame him. Your eyes were glued to Suga's fingers. The way they made an entire musical out of tiny Hinata with just little effort was just magical.

Only when Hinata could barely breathe or speak, Suga returned to your side and let you snuggle against him while you enjoyed the picnic.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop thinking....

"Are you okay? You've been a little absent."

Oh. Before you knew it, it was already a few hours since the hangout ended, and you were at your place with Suga next to you on the couch.

True, you couldn't stop thinking about playful Suga. With you he was still very gentle and caring. You felt like you were ready for the more playful kind of relationship, but how to say it without making a fool of yourself?

"U-uh, well... I was thinking... T-this afternoon," you started, and you struggled to find the right words.

"Oh no, were you too bored? Or were my friends rude to you? I'm so sorry! I should've been more careful," Suga immediately apologized.

You quickly shook your head. "No, not at all! Just... T-the thing you did uh... To Hinata..." You fiddled with your fingers, and somehow from the look on his face, you had an idea that Suga was starting to understand you already. You were that nervous and flustered after all.

"What about it...?" Suga asked when you paused for too long. You shut your eyes and covered them with your hands too, hiding yourself completely.

"C-could eh... Could you... do that to me?" you said in a soft voice.

"....." The silence really made you want to explode!!!

"I m-m-mean n-never mind, forget what I said!" you squeaked, but suddenly you felt two hands on your sides and you tensed up instantly.

"You mean, this?" Suga carefully brushed his fingers against your sides, and you felt a giggle almost make its escape. When you only trembled slightly but didn't protest, he started to tickle you more, his fingers wiggling gently against your sides.

With your hands still covering your eyes, you felt how you started to giggle and you fell against him.

"Did you want that? If I misunderstand, please tell me," Suga said and he kissed your head. Meanwhile his fingers were now tickling you with a little more pressure, dancing playfully up and down your sides and scribbling all over your stomach.

At last you dared to move your hands down, or well, were actually forced to because you were that ticklish.

"Hehehe! Yehehes!" you laughed, squirming against him. Suga chuckled.

"Yes, you want it? Or Yes, I misunderstand?" Probably from your body language and reactions he already figured out the answer, but he still needed to tease you by making you say it.

You shook your head and continued laughing.

"No? What is it now?" Suga asked in fake confusion. You gasped when he pulled you on his lap. He playfully tickled your tummy, causing you to squirm and dance on top of him.

"Eeeehehhee! Wahah- It tihihickles!" you laughed, arching your back and almost sliding off him.

"It tickles? Really?" He grabbed you under your arms to pull you back, and immediately found out how ticklish your armpits were.

"AAHahack! Wahahhah!" Your laughter was now louder than before, especially when he finally positioned you back on the couch and climbed on top of you. In that position, he tested the sensitivity of your armpits some more.

"Hehehehe! Ahahah!" You sensed that he was still holding back compared to how he would tickle Hinata or his other friends, but still, you were happy you could be playful like this together and enjoyed the way he dared to tease you.

Eventually he stopped and held you in his arms while you caught your breath.

"I'm glad you asked," he said, and you rested comfortably against him.

"Hmm?" You glanced curiously at him, and saw the bright smile on his face.

"I've been wanting to tickle you like this, but just wasn't sure whether I could."

Ah, he was so kind. Today during the hangout with his friends, you learned he could be very energetic and playful with the guys, but with you he was just being extra careful.

"No need to hold yourself back with me," you told him with a smile.

His gentle smile turned into a smirk, and you gulped. "Really? Well thank you for letting me know~!" And before you could say another thing, he was tickling you again. Still the way more gentle version, but definitely a little more merciless than just now.

"Wahahahait- I wahahasn't- nahahaha!"

You had barely recovered from the first tickle attack and were now laughing more and louder as you suffered from his second attack. Hehe, that was definitely already more like it!!

[maple-the-awesome]

You Sacrifice Yourself for Them || Part 3/3

Part 1 || Part 2

Pairings: Twilight, Wild, & Wind x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

There had been a time when Twilight hated dungeons for how often they popped up during his adventures. Between the brain teasers and terribly inconvenient designs (seriously who needs so many rooms or levels?), he would groan aloud every time someone warned him about a problem coming from deep within some 'sacred temple' or caves near their home, however after months of walking until his feet are sore and countless encounters with monster hordes, you could say Twilight has officially had a change of heart. Sliding a few boxes around for an extra heart piece really doesn't sound that bad compared to chasing a shadow across several realms, now does it?

With that said, he had been a bit relieved when a group of locals brought it to his attention that some strange smoke had been rising up from a nearby mountain, practically begging the group of visiting heroes to check it out. He wasn't the only one willingly to agree, in fact most of the boys seemed eager to help aside from Time who was hesitant to derail their quest as well as Wild and Warrior who just couldn't understand what all this fuss about dungeons is about. In the end, it was decided that half of the group would go for the locals' sake while the others would stay to investigate leads about portals. At the time, this seemed to be a great trade and Twilight had even been looking forward to being able to do something different, but as his luck continues to prove, it turns out he has none whatsoever in terms of joy...

What even happened? He doesn't quite understand. He was joking with Wind and Hyrule about something long after everyone had split into two groups to make exploring the dungeon go faster. They were nearly complete with their half, having successfully fought a miniboss which was no trouble at all, in fact that's what had them in such high spirits at the moment. They entered the next room while placing bets regarding how 'difficult' the main boss would be when a shout met their ears. Seconds later, Twilight heard a 'BOOM' while being shoved backwards by a heavy force. Given that sound and the vague smell of smoke in the air, he would've assumed he had been hit by the blast of a bomb which probably wouldn't have been so far from the truth if not for you.

It takes a good minute for Twilight's poor mind to catch up, realizing much to his horror what had actually happened as you fell stiffly against his chest, your entire backside scoured. The floor tile behind you both - the same one he was about to step on before you shoved him out of the way - is gone, only a smoldering pile of broken shards left in its wake. Now why it exploded, Twilight doesn't know nor does he care. His main concern is you, sitting up in a snap and grabbing your shoulders with worry. At least there's some relief in you blinking open your eyes to look at him, but the way you groan and flinch at the movement makes him sick with guilt.

"What was that?!" Wild asks the same question that's hidden deep in Twilight's mind.

"The gold floor tiles explode," You explain, the pain clear in your grumbled voice as you attempt to push yourself away from Twilight, although he doesn't allow it, instead carefully shifting you to sit on his lap as he hisses as the sight of how the flames had burned right through you tunic, leaving behind a nasty open wound that no doubt continues to burn.

"Why did you do that?!" He asks the questions on the front of his mind, accepting the potion Four quickly hands to him for you. A part of him wants to be angry given how calm they can all be given your injury, although any other day he'd be rational enough to understand panicking won't help the situation. Regardless of logic, this is you. You're hurt and you got this way protecting him. It should be the other way around if anything!

"Don't be such a hypocrite. You would've done the same for any of us," It's as if you can read his mind as he carefully pours the liquid over your burns, causing you to hiss quietly, but other than that, you're actually handling the pain pretty well, "Besides, it would've been a lot worse had you stepped on it directly. All that fur you wear looks pretty flammable to me. You would've gone up in flames instead of a small burn."

Twilight tries to keep his eyes down at his work as a stubborn sign that he knows you're right, not that he could ever admit such a thing aloud, "...Still...A shouted warning could've done."

"No it wouldn't. Your foot was already lowering -"

"- You two can argue about this later," Four interjects while offering you a hand to get up, "That potion is only a temporary solution. We should get you back to the inn so that Hyrule can heal you completely."

You're about to begrudgingly agree, knowing full well how difficult it'll be to walk on your own even though you were pretty excited to finish this dungeon. Before you can take Four's hand, however, you're lifted into the air, held bridal style in Twilight's arm (which poses no challenge for him to accomplish).

"I'll carry you back."

"You don't have to -"

"- You took a hit for me. It's the least I can do," His voice is as stern as his mind, making it clear that this is the only compromise you'll be presented with less you want to keep the argument up all night. Thus, you merely pout and look away with a huffed 'fine', "I'm sure the three of you will be fine finishing the dungeon by yourselves?"

"Pff, with our eyes closed," Legend crosses his arms, offended anyone would think otherwise. Four and Wind nod quickly, their eyes still reflecting sympathy for your sake even though they know you've seen worse.

With that, Twilight turns, heading towards the exit of the dungeon with you (more comfortably that you'll say) in his arms and Hyrule at his feet. As upset as he appears on the outside, Twilight can't help feeling some sort of shameful pride at the thought that you'd be so fond of him as to willingly risk injury, so he makes an unspoken promise to himself to spoil you for at least until the evidence of your burns fade. It's the least he could do (and the best excuse he'll find for staying at your side nonstop).

Perhaps it's because he's never had many opportunities to do anything like this before the Calamity or maybe it's because he got so accustomed to it after those dark days. The origin doesn't change the fact that Wild tends to find more comfort in nature than ever before. The splashing of stream water down a waterfall. The singing of birds or creaking of crickets depending on the hour. The gentle breeze through his hair as his only company...It's become a habit of his to find spots like this during tough moments, especially those when he feels himself slipping the most...moments like what occurred today...

If he wasn't so upset and angry inside, he'd feel sort of guilty for running off the way he had back there. It wasn't anyone else’s fault that he's out of his element lately, resulting in more screwups on the battlefield. It's not their fault that he messed up during the last fight, too, breaking his sword against a darknut's armor, leaving himself defenseless (he didn't think it would be that strong!). Most importantly of all, it wasn't their fault that his ignorance resulted in you, for whatever reason, feeling as if it was your responsibility to save him with complete disregard for the risk. 

Wild keeps replaying the moment in his mind - you fighting viciously against the darknut until it was reduced to a puff of purple smoke, but not without receiving several cuts and scrapes yourself. He's not sure what hurts more: seeing you injured for his sake or the anger that flashed in your eyes when you looked back at him. You're not happy with him. Nobody was considering the number of times they've warned him about not rushing in battle head first, however your disappointment carried a strong burn that challenged even the Old Man's. If anything, Wild strives to see your joy and hear your praise, not be the source of your dismay. 

He can't help but wonder what would have happened if you weren't so prepared at that moment. What if you had gotten a more serious injury? What if you had died all because of him? Could he stomach losing another person he loves like that? How can he call himself a hero when he's constantly failing those he should be protecting the most? He can't. He's a failure...

"Link?"

He pretends not to hear your voice, although it's a poor act given the way he flinches. Sighing, you take his turned head and stiffened shoulders as an invite to walk closer, finding a seat beside him in the grass. You don't say much at first, simply taking in the beautiful scenery and counting the fireflies fluttering around you.

"...I'm sorry I yelled at you either. I lost my temper, but I shouldn't have."

"You had every right to," Wild mumbles, pulling his knees to his chest and hiding his face against them so that he doesn't have to look at you, too afraid he'll break down if he does, "I put everyone in danger by being impatient. I put you in danger."

You shrug, looking down as you run your hand against the grass, "...You really do have to be more careful, I'll stand by that. You gotta assess situations especially against monsters you've never seen before...but with that said, no one can expect you to be perfect. This situation is different for all of us. Really, aside from the Captain, most of us have never even worked in groups before, so it'll take getting used to. Just try to keep in mind that you're not alone, so don't act like it."

Wild lifts his head only to put his chin upon his knee, still stubbornly glaring into the distance instead of responding to your words, although he's forced to smile a little when you nuzzle your face against his while whining his name for attention. 

"I heard you."

"Then show it. It took me forever to think-up that heartfelt speech. Do you know how difficult public speaking is?"

"It's only the two of us."

"And like, thirty fireflies!" You gesture to the bugs in question, happy to hear Wild's chuckle and even happier to wrap your arm around his without any sort of fight, "...I mean it, Link. It's okay to lean against the rest of us sometimes. I'd be devastated if something irreversible ever happened to you."

He blushes, his words whispered as he leans his head against yours and closes his eyes, "...I'd be, too, if anything happened to you."

This can't be happening again. How is this even Wind's luck? He thought he made himself perfectly clear from the beginning that just because he's the youngest in the group does not mean everyone has to keep trying to protect him as if he’s made of glass! He's a hero of courage, too! He did his part, traveling across the great sea, fighting through numerous difficult dungeons, and defeating Ganondorf all by himself - Well, the King of Red Lions and Zelda helped some, too, but the point still stands! He didn't need Wild to take a hit for him that one time nor did he need you to do practically the same exact thing now!

It's worse this time than it was with Wild which only makes Wind angrier (and guiltier). Unlike the Champion who bounced back onto his feet after a few minutes, you weren't so lucky. No matter how much Wind shook your body or cried your name with his tears dripping across your bloodied face, you just wouldn't wake up. He couldn't even lift you to carry you to safety. Time has already tried explaining to him that his panicked state likely waived his strength, but Wind refuses to accept that excuse. 

He must've done something during that fight to make you think he couldn't handle himself. You got hurt - really hurt trying to protect him and he couldn't even protect you afterwards. It was Warrior who picked you up and ran out of the battle. It was Hyrule and Legend who worked together to heal your wounds with potions and magic. What did Wind do in the meantime? He cried like a child.

He did his best to hide it, wandering to the back of the group while desperately trying to use his sleeves to clear away the tears. He couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise. For those long ten minutes of you not moving regardless of everyone's efforts, he was left thinking he had killed you. He's a hero who's supposed to save people, but instead he ended up getting one of the nicest and more selfless individuals he's ever known killed!

At long last, you began to stir, further awoken by the chorus of relieved sighs that followed. You complained of a nasty headache and immediately tried sitting up which Legend wouldn't allow; you're okay - you're alive despite how it may have looked seconds ago, but that doesn't make Wind feel much better. 

Even from where he stands so far away, he can see the smudged blood staining your forehead and that dazed look in your eyes while Wild just laughs, welcoming you to the club of needless head injuries. You, of course, brush everyone else off, your eyes skillfully finding Wind despite how he tries to hide from view.

You croak his name, yet he turns his back to you with crossed arms, doing his best not to start crying again, "I thought I told you all to stop risking yourselves for my sake. I can handle myself!”

"You would've been hurt yourself," You comment with a frown, making Wind's anger flare.

"I'm not a child, though!"

"I didn't say you are one. I would've jumped in front of you even if you were as old as the rest of us. Trust me, Wind. The only thing on my mind at that moment wasn't anything related to your age, it was simply the worry that you were about to be ambushed. I didn't want to see you hurt any more than I'd want to see any of you boys get hurt."

Wild chews on his bottom lip, blinking back the tears as he at last stomps over to join the rest of you, pouting stubbornly yet his voice is genuine as he mumbles, “...I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You give a droopy smile and a thumbs up, although the action is rather shaky, “As good as ever!”

“No, you clearly are not,” Twilight deadpans.

“Lay back down already, you have a concussion!”

"Legend, lower your voice."

[vodika-vibes]

Hi love, I already have a second request. Hehehe.

Anyhew.... Howzer, opal and summer please. Thank you. Love oo

Summer Love

Summary: An early morning at the beach reminds you of just how much you love Howzer.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x F!Reader

Word Count: 646

Prompt: Opal - Faithful Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope you like this! I wanted to write Howzer, hence three stories today.

You wake to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. You release a groan and roll onto your side, intent to bury your face in Howzer’s chest and get some more sleep.

Only, as you roll over, you touch nothing by cool sheets.

Blearily you crack open your eyes and peer at his side of the bed. No Howzer. You drop your face into your pillow with a quiet huff, and then roll onto your back and kick the blankets off. 

You drag yourself out of bed, pausing only long enough to pull the shirt the Howzer was wearing the day before over your thin tank top, and then  you push open the bedroom door and, blindly, walk through the house.

He’s not in the kitchen. Or the living room. 

And you yawn widely as you slide open the glass door that leads to the back deck. And there he is, sitting at the table, sipping some caf, and chatting to your neighbor.

The moment you step onto the desk, the conversation stops and Howzer turns his gaze towards you, an adoring smile on his face, “Good morning, cyare.”

“Mor-” a wide yawn cracks your face, “-ning.”

He stands and pulls you into a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Did I wake you?”

“Not really,” You press your face against his chest and inhale deeply, enjoying the scent of Howzer mixed when the subtle scent of salt water, “Did you go swimming this morning?”

“It felt more enjoyable than running.” He kisses your forehead once more, and then guides you over to the table and presses his mug into your hands. “You remember Irma?”

You peer at the other woman, her smile looks slightly strained, though you can’t possibly imagine why. “Yes, you told us about the seafood restaurant last night. We enjoyed it a lot.”

Her smile becomes a little more strained, “Well, that’s good.” Her gaze cuts towards Howzer, “but we were having a conversation that you interrupted.”

Howzer’s genial smile fades slightly, “She’s always welcome to join any conversation that I’m a part of.”

Ah.

She has a crush on your Howzer. You can’t blame her, your Howzer is gorgeous, after all.

He’s also completely faithful to you, and you to him.

Your gaze slides across the woman, and you smile gently, “We’re actually about to start breakfast-” 

Her face flushes a deep shade of red, “Well then, I’d better go.” She blurts as she stands suddenly, and flees from the deck.

Howzer glances at you, “You hate eating this early.” He says with a slow smile on his face.

“She doesn’t know that.” You reply with a light smile.

“Jealous, cyar’ika?” Howzer lightly tugs you onto his lap, his arms sliding securely around your waist as you bury your face in his neck.

You laugh softly, “Not even a little.” 

“Good.” He lightly pushes you back so he can catch your lips in the gentlest kiss, “Because I would choose you over anyone.”

“Anyone?”

“Anyone.”

“Hm…good.” You lightly play with the hair at the base of his head, “Because I would choose you over anyone too.”

His eyes sparkle with mischief, “Even Rex?”

“Rex who?” You reply with a teasing smile.

“Hm, good answer.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. I have a lot of love.” Howzer murmurs against your lips.

“And it’s all mine, lucky me.” You brush your thumb against the scar on his cheek, “Would you like me to make waffles for breakfast?”

“I would love that.” He replies as he stands with you in his arms, “And then we can go to that aquarium we saw the other day.”

“Sounds like a perfect day to me.” You say with a warm smile, as he carries you back into the house.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Playing Soldier: Chapter 21 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 20 here. Part 22 here.

Summary:

Words: 5600

Warnings: tavington is a secret munch, a mite of possessive language, two idiots swimming up the Nile

Characters: William Tavington x Reader

A/N: Co-written with @bastillia

Hello my loves! We're getting into the thick of it now, I fear! We have to say - coming from a fandom where our previous loves spoke very little, it's a massive change of pace to write a man who actually talks. And doesn't always say what he means. Hehehe.

Hope you continue to enjoy - Happy Valentine's Day, too. We love YOU and you are all our valentines (William Tavington polycule!?!??!) <3

Clink clink.

Still cloaked in the fog of sleep, you stirred, winced at the sun behind your eyelids. Water splashed, connected with skin, movement shuffled behind you.

Clink clink.

You pried open your eyes, rolling over in the bed, and spotted William standing over the basin. Clad only in his breeches, hair cascading down to his shoulder blades, he stared into the mirror as he guided a straight razor over his jawline. A swish of water, another swipe, and he tapped the edge of the blade on the porcelain.

Clink clink.

His eyes met yours in the mirror, and he cocked a brow. “I thought perhaps I’d need to call upon the coroner.”

“And indict yourself in my passing?” You sat up, cleared the croaking from your throat. “What gallantry.”

He did not fail, you noticed, to glance at your breasts in the mirror as the quilt fell to your lap. His gaze remained for only a moment before he shaved the other side of his jaw. When he said nothing, you surveyed the room. Nothing seemed altered from when you’d fallen asleep. You barely remembered sharing the bed with him at all.

You couldn’t decide if that disappointed you.

Muscles sore from your ride, you began to stretch, caught him stealing another glimpse of your body. The imbalance—him half-clothed, you fully nude—annoyed you. You spotted his shirt laid out neatly on the quilt, so you snatched it and threw it on before climbing out of bed.

William hummed, wiping his razor on a towel. “I will be needing that.”

You shrugged. “You will.”

You reached toward the ceiling with a groan, the sunlight filtering through the sleeves and silhouetting your arms. You wondered how the rest of your body looked, wondered if the curves of your hips and stomach glowed like the lines of your wrists and elbows. Feeling a stiffness in your hamstrings, you bent forward, your breasts swaying.

The weight of his gaze dragged over every inch of your flesh. It was not something you needed to see to confirm—but you peered behind you anyway and saw him staring. He regarded you like a snake would regard a mouse; like he ached to coil around you, squeeze the air from your lungs and then swallow you whole.

Your core tightened. Your breath hitched. You held his gaze and straightened, rolling your shoulders and curving your back until you stood tall.

It was impossible not to notice the powerful swell of his chest, of his shoulders—more impossible still not to let the gentle contours of his abdominal muscles lure your eyes down his body to the dark trail of hair that tapered from his navel to the waistband of his breeches. Water pooled in your mouth imagining where it led. Your eyes cut back to his, meeting twin slivers of limpid blue sky. You swallowed.

One display which had always perplexed you had been when the unmarried women of your village would mill about after church, pouting their lips and fluttering their lashes at the men. Now, in the span of one crashing instant, you understood. Now, you feared you might be at risk of performing any number of ridiculous behaviors if it meant keeping William’s attention fixed upon you.

To negate such a risk, you turned your back to him, bending at the hips to retrieve your stockings from the floor beside the bed. Heat stifled your cheeks. You were far too exposed as it was, and it was clearly impairing your judgment.

Clink clink clink.

You didn’t even hear him cross the room.

An arm hooked your middle and hauled you backward. You could barely utter a squeal before the world flipped, your head hit the pillows, and William slammed you down, caging your body beneath his.

“You may come to regret tempting me,” he said, his face hovering above yours, hair curtaining down to tickle your cheekbones. His tone was sinister, but searching his eyes, the only darkness you found there was desire.

“Oh?” A laugh bubbled up. You lifted your chin, peered down your nose bridge at him, and, in your best, most pompous affectation of his accent, said, “I doubt that.”

His gaze narrowed, a flash of satisfaction hidden within the withering mercy you found there. Jaw tensing, he palmed one of your breasts over his stolen shirt. When you hummed in response, his grip punished you, squeezing the tender bruises he'd gifted you the night before.

You gasped, squirmed, your eyes trained on his. He studied you, watched the discomfort contort your features, then tweaked your nipple between his fingers. Your back arched, you groaned, casting your arms around his neck in an effort to draw him closer. His attention flicked over your lips, and he attached his mouth to your throat.

Hips rolling, you sighed, your hands coiling into his hair. It slid like silk through your fingers, and you skated your nails across his scalp, shivering as he descended to your torso.

To your relief, William kept his more egregious markings below your collar, biting and sucking at the flesh he could uncover beneath the shirt. Lower he moved, lower, pushing the hem of the blouse above your waist, his expression sharpening the more of your body he revealed. His hands smoothed over your hips, squeezed, the flesh hilling between his fingers. His breath hitched. He stared.

“What?” An uncertain laugh caught in your throat. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen one up close.”

William huffed. “Plenty,” he said, crushing you in his grip, earning a twist of your legs. Before you could complain, he groped at your ass, your thighs, marveling at the way it filled his hands. Like he was lost, captive somewhere distant, he murmured again, “Plenty.”

The timbre of his voice stilled your tongue. Heat flooded your face. Between your thighs, something pulsed, so deep and needy that you thought it might draw you into yourself.

A shaky breath escaped him. Instinct enthralled him. Jaw tense, William drove his teeth into the soft roll of your belly.

You squealed, scraping at his head, and he ripped your hands from his hair, pinning them to the bed before gathering your hips in his palms again. His mouth savaged you, sucking and tearing at your skin, pulling purple brands to the surface. You gasped, curled back into the pillow, undulating underneath him, your fingers folding into the sheets as your eyes squeezed out everything but raw sensation.

He moved further below your waist, marking every inch that infringed on his purview, groaning in his chest. The dip below your hip bones, then the fresh flesh of your legs, all of it tender and tempting to a man who had decided to devour you. Growling, William sunk his teeth into your inner thigh with such force you howled, fearing he’d found your femoral artery; but the soothing sweep of his tongue mollified you, settled you into a trembling moan.

Palms hooked beneath both of your thighs, hoisting them onto his shoulders, and you shuddered, mind spinning while he shifted to your other leg. He kissed up from your knee, burning a trail toward your center, your breath quickening the closer he drew. His breath brushed your folds, and you laughed, half-enraptured, head lolling along the mattress.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” you mumbled.

William kept his focus between your thighs. “Preparing to eat what is likely to be the only meal you’ll ever serve me.”

You laughed again. “Have I laid down with a cannibal?”

“Something of the sort.”

Another bite to your thigh—pain flushed to your toes—and before you could relax, his tongue traced your cunt.

“What the—” You jerked away, but he pinned your hips to the bed. “What are you—” Another slip of his tongue across your folds, this time dipping between them, forcing your chin to quiver with a rush of bliss. “Sweet immortal Christ…” Gripping the sheets, you stared into the ceiling and swallowed. “You…”

William sighed, spoke into your thighs. “Is pleasure so unfamiliar to you that you must protest its very existence?”

“Shut up,” you snapped, eyes fluttering. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

“Are you certain?” he said, skimming his lips across your skin. “Your behavior inclines me to believe you’d like me to.”

You growled, raised your head to glare at him. He met your stare, unflinching. You exhaled, flopped onto the pillow. “Please, William.” You tried to stop the tremor in your voice. “Please continue with…” You paused, waved the embarrassment from the air. “That.”

“What is that, precisely?”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I… I don’t know. Whatever that is you’re doing.”

“And what is it that I’m doing?”

“William!” You drew a deep breath, swallowing every remaining ounce of your pride, then leaned up, meeting his eyes. You found them alight with devilry. “Continue… kissing me between my legs. Please.”

He smirked. “You can be such a pleasant creature when it’s demanded of you.”

You fell back so he wouldn’t be able to see when you rolled your eyes. His mouth pressed to your folds again, and every lingering complaint vanished.

William started slowly, pressing kisses to your outer folds, teasing them with the tip of his tongue, his hands stroking your thighs when you twitched in response to his touch. Then he dipped inward, coaxing a moan from your lips, taunting your clit with his breath, his warmth. It ached, throbbed—against his mouth, you felt swollen and needy, like your cunt had ballooned to the size of a pomegranate and all it could do was plead to be pried open.

Whimpering, you raised your hips toward his face, hoping to entice him to meet your need, but he grumbled, barred you to the mattress with his arm. As if to spite you, he dragged his tongue over your cunt in a broad stripe, just ghosting your clit. You writhed in protest, tried to grab his head and force it forward, but he snagged your wrist from the air.

He glanced at you, chin gleaming with your wetness. “I’m beginning to conclude that patience is not a virtue you possess.”

You considered squeezing your thighs together and snapping his neck between them. But the thumping demand there resigned you to slacken wordlessly in his grip. With a smirk you didn’t even need to see, he released you and nuzzled against your cunt again. This time, his lips wrapped around your clit.

You arced toward the ceiling like the slash of a saber. A sound escaped you, one without a definition or even a name. Pure, iridescent ecstasy flooded you, crested in waves from the gentle, warm pressure of his mouth.

William stroked his tongue over your clit, suckled it in steady rhythm, earning another moan, another shake of your legs. The ministration of his mouth was focused, like it was employing memory, practicing what your fingers had shown him the evening prior; the escalating pressure, the slick circles, the feathery brush of the hood. A quiet groan left him, and you craned your neck, glanced down.

Between your legs was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, his hair fanned across his shoulders, his nose nestled to the seam of your cunt, his pretty lips intent on bringing you pleasure. You whimpered, and he opened his eyes, greeting you with a gaze that was so laden with gluttony and lust and pride that you could only define it as sin.

If you’d had your wits, you might have remarked upon the uncharacteristic duration of his silence.

But your wits were rollicking somewhere in the aether, far beyond your reach.

He swirled his tongue around you, jaw working, his hands clutching you to his face as if your cunt made his heart beat. Your breath came faster, your chest heaving, sweat slipping down your spine. It rose over you, an inevitability, a breaking deluge of pleasure, and you tossed your head back and forth, panting, urging with sounds that you didn’t even believe could qualify as words.

Wet, swollen, stiff, your clit throbbed, your core clenched. He hummed against you, a rumble of permission. A slick circle of his tongue, a squeeze of your ass—and you came, crying into the air. Euphoria locked your joints, hardened your muscles, and you shook until your climax descended and seeped from your toes. Your breath was still seeking you, your body liquefying to the bed when William pushed forward, shifting your calves onto his shoulders.

Mind wounded by bliss, your eyes pried apart only to see him looming above you, a lock of hair hanging at his cheek. His jaw was tight. His gaze was familiar—you’d seen the exact same one when he was slitting innocent throats.

Spying the half-lucid question in your eyes, he pushed down his trousers, pulling free his thick, needy erection. He gave you a mirthless smirk.

“My turn.”

And then his cock slammed inside you.

William groaned, driving into the root, your soaked heat swallowing him with ease. Not a second was spared before he was drawing back, plunging back in, folding you in half, the angle driving straight into your belly, then again, again, setting a brutal and desperate pace from the start. His mouth fell open in rapture, every thrust punctuated by his growling breath.

Beneath him, you were a moaning, incapacitated mess, numb to anything beyond your body. The clap of flesh, the scent of sweat, the cadence of your heart—all of it diminished in comparison to the dominion he was fucking into your cunt. You could not move, could not speak, could barely even breathe. All you could do, all you wanted to do, was be filled with his cock.

He leaned closer, hips easing into long, deep thrusts that throttled your sanity, pierced something exquisitely painful.

“Meet my eyes,” he said through ragged breath, “and remind me who owns this cunt.”

Wincing, you obeyed, locking stare with a man you’d only seen in the throes of war. Sunlight shimmered in the violent blue of his irises and died in the void of his pupils. His lip furled, teeth grit, muscles taut as his hips hammered yours.

“You do,” you murmured.

Delight flashed across his face. “To whom do you succumb?”

You had never heard words that flooded you with such bliss. “To you,” you whined, “William, only to you—”

William moaned, cock pounding into you, hollowing you out, and his hands found your ankles, cranking them toward your ears. Subsumed by pleasure, by lust, you wailed, nails scraping his shoulders, and his head bowed, hair curtaining his face, your name slipping from his lips once, twice—

“Hell,” he hissed.

He wrenched himself from your core and crushed your thighs together, thrusting between them, his head falling back. You watched, entranced, as his cock twitched, shooting white, sticky loads across your stomach, a throaty sound rumbling in his chest with each pulse.

As the tail of his orgasm receded, he shuddered, releasing his hold on you and letting your body flop to the bed like a discarded doll. His gaze hazy with vestiges of euphoria, he settled onto his heels, gazing over your wrecked figure before exhaling and stretching out on his back next to you.

The room whirled around you. You glanced down. Some of his seed had collected in your navel. The rest clung to your skin, little viscous stripes of spend. You were certainly a soldier by now—what else could these be but decorations for distinguished service? A laugh bubbled in your throat, and you failed to catch it.

“What?” William asked, his voice still thick.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly. Then wondered if he’d think it was funny, too. “Just considering if I could count these among ribbons awarded to those in the military.” You gestured to the remnants of his climax.

William raised a brow, peeking at your naked lower half. His lips curled in a smirk, a quiet huff escaping his nose, and he looked away, closing his eyes. “If an officer’s seed anointed one to honor, the brothels would lose nearly all their employ to damehood.” He paused. “And the Welsh farms half their sheep.”

You snorted, curling to your side as you broke into a full laugh. “Oh my, Colonel,” you teased, smacking his shoulder. “So uncouth!”

“You’ve not heard the worst of it,” he replied dryly. “Consider the married women in your little colony who would find themselves promoted.”

You rolled your eyes. “But how many of those promotions would have been sought by mutual effort, hm?”

William offered a careless shrug. “I’ve no control over that.” He opened an eye to look at you. “I much prefer my quarry to submit of its own accord.”

Flame licked your neck, your cheeks. “Ha-ha,” you replied, shooting him a playful sneer. “Is it a man’s duty to become impossibly swollen with pride after coming off within five feet of a woman?”

To that, he said nothing, only exhaled through his nose. You each laid there, inches from the other, silence settling like a sheet, your gaze drifting from his still-exposed body to the morning beyond the window. Already you could hear the chatter of soldiers, the shuffling of activity in the yard. You would probably need to find the hospital. Probably need to find a way to begin cataloguing whatever intelligence you could gather.

You glanced at William, his eyes still closed, his arm resting on his forehead, his chest softly rising and falling with his breath. A horrendous mote of warmth glowed in your belly. Even more horrendously, you wondered what he might think if you drew closer to him.

Revolted at your own weakness, you rolled over, faced the wall. This man was at the least your inconvenient sexual partner and at the most a means to an end. Nothing more than that.

He released a long breath. “I'm departing for the field this morning.”

Your chest tightened. You frowned. “Oh.” Behind you, you heard him shift, roll off the bed. “The lands won't rape themselves, I suppose, will they?”

William crossed toward the basin, shooting you a glare on the way. “I might conclude you harbor traitorous tendencies given your manner of speech.” He took a rag and washed himself off, tucked himself away.

“My manner of speech betrays no such thing,” you replied. “An alignment with the Crown does not endear me to your methods, nor the implications of your victory.”

He snorted. “One would believe a woman such as yourself should admire the methods most effective for achieving said victory.” He plucked a brush from the table near the basin and ran it through his hair.

“A woman such as myself?” You dragged yourself up to sit, taking advantage of his preoccupation to wipe away his seed with the sheets. “Pray, and what sort of woman might that be?”

“The sort with a deep predilection for violence.” He smirked, starting to separate his hair, coasting the brush through the first strand.

You couldn't fight the grin that broke across your face, so you ducked your head to hide it instead. Then, you heard it—that tiny, needling voice in the back of your mind. The one you so often throttled into silence lest it prick you with unpleasant truths.

He was leaving.

And it was possible that you didn’t entirely want him to.

Irritation rose in a wave, smothering whatever foul urge had tempted you to smile. If you were honest, your anger was directed nowhere but inward. But that didn’t stop you from turning its teeth upon the source of that intolerable warmth.

Grumbling, you swung your legs off the bed and marched up behind William, yanking the brush from his hand.

He stared as if you’d backhanded him across the face. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re taking far too long,” you said, tossing the first section of hair over his shoulder. His height had you rolling onto the balls of your feet to ensure you’d gotten all of it. “I’ll do it.”

From the mirror, he met your eyes, looking as if you’d just suggested that he eat the jam from between Cornwallis’ toes. Yet, despite his silence, he did not move away. With a grimace born more of performance than sincerity, you began brushing the larger portion of his hair. Copper luster rippled under the bristles.

“Though I make no admissions regarding my behavior,” you said, wincing at the ache already building in your arms as you divided his hair into sections, “whatever you perceive it to be does not reflect how I wish for men like my father to be treated.”

You spied a wooden chair next to the side table and leaned to drag it toward you.

“Ah.” He eyed your movements in the mirror as you stepped up onto the chair behind him, steadying yourself on his shoulders. “A fair argument.” The chair teetered fractionally on an uneven floorboard, and a hand came back to grip your calf. “Perhaps you’d prefer the methods of a man such as Major Ferguson, then?”

Finding stability, you scowled at him in the mirror and returned to brushing his hair, attributing the warm patter of your heart to all the blood returning to your arms at this angle.

“How dare you invoke his name.” You held out your tongue as if Ferguson were a bad taste you’d like to forget. “I know nothing of that man’s methods regarding anything beyond…”

You abandoned the thought, shaking it off like acid droplets and frowning at the strands between your fingers.

“Don’t you?” he said, his head cocking slightly. “If I am, as you say, a Butcher, then perhaps he is the shepherd.”

You stilled, your eyes snapping to his in the mirror. He held your gaze, brows lifting fractionally. Finding yourself unwilling to ponder the implications of that statement just now, you huffed and resumed brushing. “I’ll neither speak nor hear another word of him.”

“Visit to sister dearest not turn out as you’d hoped, I take it?”

“I’m sure I’ve no idea what you mean.”

“Considering I’ve received no reports of Major Ferguson’s head turning up on a spike.”

“Did I not just say I wish to hear no more of him?” You glowered at him in the mirror, and swore you saw the shadow of an impish curve to his mouth. You snorted, shaking your head. “I simply do not and will not ever understand it.”

“The rituals of those with a sense of civility, you mean?”

You gave his hair a tug. “No.”

The black ribbon rested on the side table beside you. Looping one arm over William’s shoulder, you clung to him and leaned over to grab it, body pressing against his. His fingers flexed on your leg as you balanced.

He frowned when you settled back. “The ribbon—”

“I’m aware.” With a sigh, you continued, turning the ribbon over in your fingers. “The… need for it at all. Every woman my age is either already married or prays each night for her husband to rise from the earth by morning. As if they yearn to fling themselves into imprisonment at the first opportunity.”

“Every reasonable woman should yearn for such a sentence,” he said with the ghost of a smirk. “Or her potential suitors might begin their courtship by purchasing a gravestone rather than shackles.”

“Oh, you are such a gentleman.” You frowned, tugged his hair again. “Count me among the unreasonable few who would sooner die by the plague than within my warden’s cemetery plot.” Turning your nose up and reprising your earlier imitation of his voice, you added, “Though I’m sure that all sounds barbaric to a man raised to be in want of an advantageous union and a well-bred wife.”

His hand twitched, like it was unable to decide to hold on or let go. “Though I make no admissions regarding my upbringing,” he replied, lightly mocking your earlier tone, “whatever you presume does not reflect wherein I place my values.”

Your fingers tightened around the ribbon. He had said he’d had no want or need for any of it—that included courtship and marriage and all of its useless ilk.

His words should have been a relief. They were a relief.

You exhaled, steady. A man who had no desire for attachment was no threat to a woman who refused to be possessed. That is, outside the throes of passion.

“Then we are in agreement,” you murmured. You gathered his hair securely at the base of his scalp, just as he’d done the last time you’d watched him. “There is no need for such frivolity.”

William was as still as marble. You started to fold each section of his hair over the ribbon, fingers mimicking memory—a tight wrap at the top, then woven down the length of the braid with firm, even tension.

“Indeed not,” he finally said.

William watched your hands, his brow softening. He was quiet for a moment; a moment longer than you’d ever anticipate him holding his tongue. His breath was slow and even. The silence should have been comfortable.

It wasn’t.

You had reached the tips of his hair when he cleared his throat.

“How is your sister, then?”

“Ugh. Besotted,” you spat automatically. Your eyes widened. Perhaps that wasn’t information you wanted him to have. “Not that it’s any of my business. Nor any of yours.”

He snorted, brow furrowing. “You think me liable to gossip idly about the romantic inclinations of my fellow officers?” He turned his head slightly, peering up at you over his shoulder. “Or do you believe I hold that much interest in your sister’s future?”

“You did ask.” You yanked his head straight by his queue, and he grunted. You finished wrapping the ribbon around the bottom. “I simply prefer to respect her privacy.”

William was silent again. You felt his eyes on you, flicking over your face, following the careful motion of your fingers. Perhaps the entire concept was unfamiliar to him—caring for another person, wanting to protect their boundaries and dignity.

“If it’s anyone’s business,” you grumbled, “it’s my father’s.”

“And yet he is absent, unable to offer his counsel.”

Your stomach sank. There was a reason you’d felt as if Grace should have yielded to your whims. It was a reason you did not feel like examining too thoroughly or for too much time.

“You seem to take my father’s choice to enlist in the Continental Army quite personally.”

“And you seem to believe it reflects nothing but admirable character.”

You almost did it—almost bared your claws and sank them into his cheek. But you wanted to fight that urge, now, especially because he was about to leave and while you didn’t care if he did and didn’t care about him, you simply didn’t feel like punishing him for your own stubbornness.

“What do you believe it reflects, then? Those faults you accused him of before?” The queue finished, you scanned around for his pomade and found it on the side table, too. “Selfishness, I believe you said?” You hung from him again to grab it. “A desire for martyrdom?”

“Perhaps.” His hand dropped from your calf as you stood. He shifted in front of you. His back seemed straighter, his muscles stiffer. “Qualities suffered by any patriarch.”

You hesitated, staring at him, seeking his gaze, unable to capture it. Your heart crawled in tender curiosity. You couldn’t bring yourself to strangle it.

“Perhaps that can be said.” You popped open the pomade. “But such faults do not preclude a loving heart. My father loves me. And my sister. In the ways he knows how.”

He shifted again, like coals were burning his feet. “And how fortunate you are to have received such a generous and considerate love,” he replied, “taking into account how you apparently have no need for it.”

“I never said that,” you snipped. “I have no need for marriage. It’s an entirely separate matter.”

The pomade stuck to your fingers. You inched forward so your breasts brushed his shoulders as you smoothed the substance over his hair, laying down the stray strands.

“Besides,” you added, “love is, by your own admission, not a sentiment with which you’re acquainted.”

Section by section, you could’ve sworn he was leaning into your touch, could’ve sworn his neck tilted to meet your palm.

“More fortunate then am I,” he said softly.

You took the brush in your hand, swept the pomade through, holding your breath like he’d snap if you exhaled too quickly. His jaw was loose. Your throat felt thick. You met his eyes in the mirror again, your fingers grazing his ear.

“Would you say,” you began, your pulse banging against your sternum, “that a flawed yet earnest love is worse than never receiving love at all?”

William examined his reflection. His gaze flicked to yours, narrowing imperceptibly to anyone who wasn’t you. His throat bobbed. He looked away.

Feeling a chill settle on your bare legs, you moved to step down from the chair. It wobbled beneath you, and William’s hand slotted into yours, steadying your descent.

Breathless, you looked from your hand in his to the blank mask of his face. You began to step back, but something caught around your waist.

Looking down, you saw his fingers hooked beneath the hem of your—his—shirt. He lifted it gently from your body, his knuckles grazing your skin as you raised your arms to release the garment back into his possession.

He held your gaze for just a moment longer, then turned, glanced once more at his queued hair in the mirror before pulling the shirt on and moving toward the rest of his uniform.

You blinked, took a step backward, folding your arms over your naked chest. “Satisfied?”

“It’s adequate,” he muttered.

Pulling your lips in over your teeth to hide your contentment, you nodded. It was flawless.

You gathered your shift and stockings from the floor, beginning to put them on before realizing the pomade still coated your fingertips. Stealing a glance over your shoulder to ensure he wasn’t looking, you smeared it between your thighs.

Dressing occurred in silence. Though your hands were now clean, you were unable to shake away the static tingle in your palms. Being so close to him, touching him without an inch of intention to then indulge his cock had felt like stroking a cat backwards. And though you had ensured he’d be leaving more quickly, you somehow had been spared no relief by the realization of it.

“I’ll be heading to the hospital, I assume,” you said once fully dressed, now having managed to get your stays and bodice on. Thank the gracious and holy Lord above you’d thought to stow a replacement ribbon in your pocket. “Is that where my belongings will be?”

William was finished as well, weapons holstered, his satchel in hand. “Your deductive reasoning knows no equal.”

“It’s so like your delusion of superiority in that way.” Tilting your chin in the air, you flounced over to his bedside table and grabbed Il Principe from it, then returned to him. “You almost forgot your tyrant guidelines,” you said, opening his satchel and dropping the book in.

William gazed at you, unamused, but did not give the book back. Instead, he moved toward the door, and when he glimpsed you over his shoulder, he stopped. Stared at you. Memorized you standing there as you bathed in waxing sunlight.

You crossed your arms, feeling somehow more exposed than you had when you’d been undressed.

Straightening, he rested his hand on the doorknob. “I anticipate reports of your good behavior upon my return,” he said, and his voice dipped lower, “though I may equally anticipate the ones of poor behavior for alternative reasons.”

You pinched your bottom lip between your teeth, catching a laugh. “Then I shall anticipate your return regardless of my conduct.”

He huffed. You spied the hint of a smirk before his face was wiped blank, and he stepped toward the door and opened it. When you didn’t move, he looked at you expectantly.

“Well,” you said, smoothing your hands down your petticoats for lack of anything better to do with them. “Good day, then.” Avoiding his eyes, you strode to the door and slipped past him. The moment you crossed the threshold, he snatched your wrist.

Without a word, William whirled you around and collided with your lips in a summer storm kiss. His hand curled around your back and pulled you against his body, and before you could respond or even aspire to return his advance, he broke from you and stepped away. His eyes lingered on yours like nectar lingered on the leaves of wild cherry.

Your cheeks burned. Clearing your throat, you glanced around. But the two of you were alone.

“Farewell, Colonel.” With one last glimpse of him, you bowed your head and retreated into the hall.

His gaze weighed on your shoulders as you slipped down the stairs.

“William,” he called after you.

[kitten4sannie]

ok hear me out bc this is a bit freaky, but yeo making u hold ur pee all day and laughing at u when u piss urself

ahhh a fellow piss enthusiastttt you came to the right place heheh,, but omg yeo would be such a bullyyyy <33 i hope you enjoy this little imagine :3 (i say little but it’s an entire essay atp loll)

imagine he takes you out to the city to look around, enjoy the scenery, the hustle and bustle around you, the stores, the food, the drinks. Now that you think about it, he keeps buying them for you and sharing them with you, but you end up drinking most of them on your own. A matcha latte you saw in an ad on the cafe window, a new bubble tea flavor you just had to have, and now you had ended up in some bar sharing a beer flight.

You were denied access to the bathroom all day, but now it was starting to get serious. Your bladder was pressing painfully against your lower abdomen, feeling like it would burst at any second.

It didn’t help that your boyfriend got some sick amusement out of watching you squirm and whine, your face screwed in discomfort. “I really have to go, Yeo…please, can I go?”

Yeo would lick his lips and push one of the beers he barely touched in your direction. “Maybe after you finish this, baby.”

You might’ve been dating a sadist, but you couldn’t complain. You wanted what he wanted, even if that meant it would end in humiliation.

You drank the beer down and immediately crossed one leg over the other, gripping the edge of the glossy wooden table, your knuckles white. “Yeo, I’m seriously going to burst. Please…please let me go.”

Yeosang would stand up after he paid for the drinks and lean in towards you, his piercing gaze studying the light sheen of sweat on your skin, your flushed cheeks, the concern etched into your face. Seeing you like this always made him extremely pleased. And harder than he’s ever been before. “Hold it,” he would command callously, as he guided you out of the crowded bar, your core aching with every step, doing everything in your power not to piss yourself with an audience present.

Once he leads you outside to an empty alleyway, he pushes you against the wall, making you let out a squeaking sound. “Yeo, it’s gonna come out. I can’t fucking hold it anymore!”

Yeosang presses his large hand against your taut lower abdomen, slowly pushing down, cooing, “Aww, is the poor baby gonna piss all over herself in front of me? Gonna get all filthy, hm? You can’t be a good girl and hold it longer?”

“I can’t…i can’t hold it…I can’t…” you mumbled under your breath, only taking one more push of your boyfriend’s hand, before your muscles relaxed against your will. Breathing heavily and whining, “It’s coming out,” a heavy amount of liquid begins to pour down your legs and past your skirt, drenching your thighs and spilling onto the concrete floor. “Yeosang…this is all your fault…”

Overwhelmed with the sight of you pissing yourself against your will, ready to lap up the tears that fell from your burning face, Yeosang would let out a satisfied laugh, pointing at the yellowish stream that was still flowing onto the floor and creating a puddle around the both of your feet. “Look at you, baby, holy shit. You’re making such a mess! You’re so fucking filthy.”

Now you really couldn’t hold back the tears, grabbing onto Yeosang’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug, crying into his neck, “Your fault…you meanie…”

He would rub your lower back in circles, pressing kisses onto your jaw and earlobe, whispering, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You know I love it when you’re a dirty girl.”