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theharddeck · 11 months ago

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start the new year right (jake seresin x f!reader)

pairing: jake hangman seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: what could be worse than a delayed flight with lost luggage? driving back to san diego with your nemesis. and what could be worse than that? the car breaking down in the middle of the night, on new years eve. and of course, the motel couldn't have a 2BR room available...

word count: 8.2k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: explicit PiV sex, oral sex (f!receiving), bc of who i am as a person overstimulation, not the BEST communication/consent, but everything is consensual! it's just implied; normally i'm better about explicitly asking and confirming

A/N: happy new year, friends! what would my year be, if not ending with me sitting down with a stanley of chamomile and writing more than i've written the whole previous month? hope this new year is gentle to y'all.

Natasha: Hey girl! Just got an alert that your transfer flight was delayed? Are you good?

You: ‘good’ as in ‘safe’, ya

You: ‘good’ as in ‘en route’, not so much. They overbooked the flight and the next one they have available is Wednesday morning

Natasha: nooooooo

You: At least my luggage is on its way to SAN… I’m considering renting a car and just making the drive from Vegas myself

Natasha: I love you and I trust you

Natasha: but an overnight drive by yourself after an already-long day is not the move

You: ugh I know, but i don’t know what else to do

Natasha: …mkay i have a solution but it’s not the one you want

You: let’s have it

Natasha: jake’s flight also rerouted through LAS

You: absolutely not

Nat: you didn’t even hear the actual plan!!

You: if it involves me and hangman, the answer is no

Natasha: it’s just a five hour drive, you can be adults/play nice with each other for five hours

You: when has Hangman ever been an adult about anything

Natasha: fair point

Natasha: but he is also currently texting me saying he’s stranded

Natasha: you know one-way car rentals are stupid expensive

Natasha: and he likes to drive so maybe you could sleep on the way

You: stop being logical

Natasha: i do not want to get a call from the nevada state police when you fall asleep behind the wheel on New Years Eve in the middle of the Mojave

You: good, add a guilt trip to the mix

Natasha: is it working

Me: …

You: it’s working

Natasha: (Ryan Gosling!Ken gif: SUBLIME!)

You: lol

You: ugh okay text me his number

Natasha: can’t believe that after 8 months stationed at the same base you don’t have his number

Natasha: mkay just sent

Natasha: you have to promise not to kill each other

Three hours later, you were really glad you hadn’t made any promises to Nat that you couldn’t keep.

Because not only had Jake insisted on renting a truck (“I need the legroom!”), and that you didn’t need to stop in Barstow for gas (“trust me, sugar, I’m an Eagle Scout–I know we can make it to east LA”), the gas-guzzling monstrosity had fizzled out somewhere between exits along the 15.

Now the hood was smoking, there was no way you were getting your security deposit back, and you were just as stranded as you’d been when you first texted Natasha from the airport.

Only now you were in the middle of the desert, and your phone was almost dead.

Four hours later, you had walked three miles back to the last exit and were checking into a truly shady motel, straight up refusing to talk to Jake because somehow, incomprehensibly, the only room available was one with one (1) king bed.

Four and a half hours later, you were dripping wet, trying not to shiver because the shower you took to warm yourself up had backfired, since the motel towels were basically handkerchiefs and your wet skin made the room seem extra cold. You hadn’t wanted to wear your airport clothes to bed, but since your luggage was already in San Diego, that left you with just a cropped tee and boyshorts.

“You okay in there?”

You glared at your reflection in the foggy mirror, since Jake was on the other side of the door.

The audacity of him.

When you’d first met Jake “Hangman” Seresin, you’d been determined to endear yourself to him.

He was a couple years older than you, and pretty close to infamous after that stunt he pulled in eastern Europe a few years ago. He was ruthless and reckless and good enough to get away with both, and you’d hoped that if you befriended him, he could teach you a thing or two during your own time at Top Gun.

And he was ridiculously beautiful, which maybe – maybe – had your admiration veering slightly into crush territory. But you’d locked that down, determined to view him platonically, and not let that get in the way of any instruction he could give.

Of course, the first words out of his mouth had been “Honey, you gotta know there’s easier ways to get your MRS degree than to become a naval aviator.”

Your crush and respect had evaporated on the North Island breeze, and it’d been downhill from there.

You had no idea why, but he had been openly antagonistic at any given moment since then — doubting your competence but disguising it as care for your safety, and tagging a misogynistic “sweetheart” at the end of every condescending sentence. You’d ignored him as much as you could, hoping he’d get that he wasn’t in Dallas anymore, and that shit didn’t fly with you, but that had only egged him on.

But now you were exhausted, cold, stranded in the middle of the desert, and practically naked to boot, and he had the gall to act like he cared if you lived or died.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said, swinging open the bathroom door and beelining for the bed, hoping you could get to it fast enough that Jake wouldn’t make a comment.

Or before your tits froze off, at least.

You didn’t look over at him as you dove under the covers, trying your hardest not to think about the last time these sheets had been washed, much less bleached.

Of course, the comforter was tucked into the foot of the bed, and you wrestled with it for a few moments before giving up, and hauling the topsheet up over your body. It was paper thin, but it was a semblance of covering, and you lay stock-still, closing your eyes and hoping sleep would magically deliver you away from this situation.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and shut again.

You could hear the sounds of Jake brushing his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste you had bought from the “concierge” in the lobby (a relic of a man who looked like he did Civil War reenactments for fun, and seemed highly amused by your outrage at the available accommodations).

You would’ve passed the time on your phone, but the last of your battery had given up the ghost while you were in the shower.

A minute or two passed, and the bathroom door opened and closed. From behind your closed eyelids, you could hear Jake shuffle over to the lightswitch, and then he stopped.

You waited.

He didn’t move.

“What do you need, Seresin?” you asked, tersely.

“Are you cold?”

Your eyes popped open, wincing at the brightness of the lights, still overhead. A quick glance down at your body made your skin heat – your tee was skin tight, and the thin topsheet did little to cover you; you crossed your arms over your chest, hiding your pebbled nipples, continuing to stare at the ceiling and avoid eye contact with Jake.

“You could turn off the lights,” you muttered.

Technically, the cold wasn’t his fault.

But it was his stubbornness that got you here, so that had to count for something.

“I was just asking–” Jake started, and you interrupted him.

“It’s the desert in December,” you snapped, “yet, for some reason, this motel has the AC on; of course I’m cold.”

As if on cue, the machine in the windowsill rumbled to life.

You closed your eyes. “Please, just turn off the light.”

The light switch flicked off, and if it were anyone else, you’d have appreciated the immediacy of the response.

But it was Jake, and he didn’t merit any kind of gratitude, so you didn’t say ‘thank you’.

Silence stretched.

You heard a rustling, and a moment later, you felt something land on your upper body. You flinched, pulling the material away from you on instinct, and identifying it by touch as Jake’s sweatshirt.

You opened your eyes, peering through the shadows of the room. The curtains were thin (you were sensing a theme here), letting in lights from outdoors, and you found Jake still standing by the door. He was digging through his backpack, clad in a white tank and boxer shorts, apparently also not wanting to wear airport clothes to sleep, but that didn’t explain why he had chucked his sweatshirt at you.

“What is this?” you asked.

He looked up, shrugged slightly, and went back to rifling through his bag. “I run warm.”

You pursed your lips. “Jake, I–”

“I had a jacket on over it at the airport, okay? Promise, it’s not dirty.”

That hadn’t been what you were going to ask, but you paused all the same.

You appreciated that he was reassuring you, and you did remember that he’d been in a jean jacket at the airport. You’d noticed it against your better judgment, thinking he looked like an A-List actor as he walked through the airport towards you, all broad shoulders and smiles, like you were friends.

“Can I have a pillow?” His question interrupted your recollection, and you frowned in his direction.

You were clearly on half of the bed, Jake could see which pillows were for him to use. Did he expect you not to have one?

You pointed to the pillow you weren’t using, confused, and he laughed quietly.

It wasn’t a sound you heard much from him.

Normally Jake laughed like he was proud of himself, reclining in the golden light of the world around him, blessing you all with his presence. This was a different sound, less pretentious, somehow warmer.

“Yes, I can see it,” he said, his voice still amused. “But I need it over here, for the couch.”

You blinked.

The couch was maybe three feet long, an atrociously patterned aberration that you’d tossed your carryon onto, and not looked twice at. Jake didn’t explain anything further, but there were still only two pillows on the bed, and you couldn’t understand why he seemed to think you didn’t need more context for why he wanted to decorate the couch with one of them.

“Why?” you asked.

Again, that quiet chuckle.

“Because, sweetheart,” he said, and you bristled on instinct, “that’s where I’m sleeping.”

You couldn’t have heard that right.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” Jake said, stubbornly.

“That was never up for debate,” you snorted. “Jake, we’re adults. We can share the bed. You’re not going to fit on the couch.”

“I’m an Eagle Scout,” he grumbled. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, loyal, brave, clean, etc, I’m sure,” you said. “But I’m not sure how helpful you’re going to be tomorrow, when you can’t drive that monstrosity of a truck due to your back spasming from being rolled up on that couch all night.”

You watched through the shadows as Jake stubbornly tried to wedge himself sideways on the couch. Sure enough, his knees were practically bent up to his navel, and even through the darkness, you could see the furrow in his brow.

“You could drive it,” he said, too obstinate to accept defeat.

“I will not,” you returned, “drive a vehicle that ostentatious.”

“Says the pilot,” he grumbled.

“Naval aviator,” you shot back. “Jake, it’s an enormous bed. Get over yourself, get into it, and the sooner you settle, the sooner it’ll be morning, and we can leave.”

He deliberated, the mulish man.

But eventually he pushed himself off the couch, clambering across the room. The bed dipped as he slid into it, and reached down for the comforter, still wedged into the bottom of the bed. You tried not to be annoyed when he yanked it free easily. It was probably just momentum, or that you’d loosened it up for him. While he was rearranging the comforter, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, and tried to be calm about the situation.

His sweatshirt was somehow still warm.

It smelled amazing, like cedar and fancy cologne.

And also sweat, which you tried damn hard to ignore.

It was cozy, and you snuggled into it, and a moment later, Jake settled. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that you didn’t have to touch each other, but that didn’t mean you could ignore that he was there.

In bed.

With you.

You snorted, thinking how much of a dream this would’ve been to you eight months ago, before you met Jake, and he dashed your crush to pieces.

“What?” Jake grumbled, and maybe it was the proximity, or maybe exhaustion from the day was setting in, because his voice sounded almost gentle.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “G’night.”

“Night,” Jake said.

You rolled onto your side, pulling your feet up under you, and folding your hands under your face, so you didn’t have to touch your skin to the pillow. Of course, that brought the sleeve of the sweatshirt to just under your face, and you were surrounded by the delicious smell of it again.

It distracted you for a moment.

Just a moment.

Then you had to acknowledge that, even with the sweatshirt and the newly-added comforter, your wet hair was no match for the chill of the room. Your legs felt exposed and the sheets felt like they were damp and wet, and you tried your best to ignore it, but soon you were shivering.

You tried to be still, you did.

But when you heard the bed shift as Jake turned towards you, you winced into the darkness, unsurprised.

“Sweetheart…” he started, and you shook your head, refusing to look back over at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to fall asleep.”

Jake let that statement hang for a moment, just long enough for your shivering to start up again. He cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded nervous, “I meant what I said earlier. About running warm.”

This time, you did turn over, trying to read his expression in the shadowy darkness. He looked…open. Like he really was altruistically suggesting sharing body warmth, nothing malicious and none of his normal teasing.

You were suspicious, but not enough so that you could ignore that it was a better idea than freezing yourself to sleep.

“You sure?” you asked, and Jake grunted, which you figured was as good a response as any. Actually, it was pretty damn good, because if he sounded eager, you’d be creeped out, and if he was uncertain, you’d feel guilty. But being matter-of-fact about it gave you the courage to scoot across the bed.

“How do we do this?” you asked, and Jake reached for you. It was an easy movement, natural, enough so that it surprised you when he hesitated before touching you.

“Can I…?” he trailed off.

“Sure,” you shrugged, hoping you sounded half as unaffected as he did. This was fine, this was normal. Just a guy who was SO obnoxious that it made you forget how hot he was, suddenly not being obnoxious, and basically punching you in the face with his hotness.

His hand settled on the small of your back and damn it, he was warm. His touch was soft, gentle, almost nervous, and he pulled you closer to him. You realized you’d expected him to turn you over, press your back to his front so that you’d be spooned, but instead he just wrapped you in his arms. He reached around you to tuck the comforter between you and the mattress, insulating you with his warmth.

Your head was in his chest, and with his arms bracketed around you, your breath heated up the space between his tank and your face. He’d even managed to slot his arm under your head, so your face still wasn’t on the pillow.

Cuddling with someone new was usually awkward, a tangle of limbs and expectations, but with Jake, it wasn’t. It was…damn it. It was pretty close to perfect.

“Good?” he asked, and he sounded different, with your cheek on his bicep, and your nose practically pressed against his chest. It was like you could feel his voice, rumbling around you, somehow more comforting for the proximity.

You nodded, not wanting to hear anything new on your voice if you tried to respond.

Jake hummed.

A moment later, you realized his thumb was moving. Nothing major, just a small movement between your shoulder blades, a reassuring stroke. It was a comforting motion, gentle, and it wasn’t long before his warmth and his touch lulled you into a sweet sleep.

You startled awake to the sound of guns.

Not guns, fireworks.

Damn it, it was New Year’s Eve; how had you forgotten?

Jake stirred too, a deep breath expanding his chest, and leading you to realize his head was resting on top of yours, his chin tucked on top of the crown on your head.

“Is that–” he mumbled and how dare he, honestly, how very dare he, because he sounded great. Fuck him, for that, frankly.

The situation washed over you, half asleep and fully cognizant of how random it was. You didn’t mean to start, but soon you were laughing, your shoulders shaking.

“You okay?” Jake asked, a thread of concern in his voice, and that didn’t help any.

“Just the universe’s sense of humor,” you said.

You didn’t know how, but you knew he was confused and you should’ve been worried about how you knew that, how you weren’t cold at all, how if you looked up, you’d know what a sleep-mussed Jake Seresin looked like, but all you could think was that this was so, so stupid.

You took a long breath, starting to explain.

“I just can’t believe this is how I’m starting the next year of my life,” you laughed. “Like, I’m fine, right? I’m doing alright on a career path I love, I call San Diego home, I have great friends and I’m doing as good with my family as anyone could be. And where am I on New Year’s? Stranded in a motel off an exit that’s literally not even town, cold enough that a guy who hates me is cuddling me so I can be still enough for him to go to sleep, with a dead phone so none of my friends or family can wish me a happy new year, and I–”

“Wait,” Jake pulled back, and you frowned at the interruption, “why do you think I hate you?”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jake said, having the gall to look confused.

“Jake,” you said, disbelieving. “You’re literally constantly a jackass to me. You’re constantly undermining me, doubting or heckling. You throw in a – frankly overwhelming – amount of southern charm and expect that to distract from the fact that you’re being outrageously patronizing and—”

Jake kissed you.

You weren’t expecting it, and it was so sudden that it thoroughly cut off your train of thought. All you could do was comprehend fleeting sensations and emotions. Jake’s lips were soft, the pressure of them light and teasing against yours. His arms tightened around you, like he was steadying both of you. In the same way you’d sensed his confusion, now you sensed his apprehension, and an unfamiliar determination.

Just as quickly, he pulled back.

“I don’t–” his voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Christ, I don’t hate you.”

You licked your lips, annoyed that they had the audacity to tingle in response to him.

You wanted to ask what the hell that was.

You wanted to ask why he was looking at you like that.

You wanted to ask what that expression meant but more than anything, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Your arms were curled up between the two of you, and it took so little effort to curl your fingers in the front of his tank and pull him to you. His mouth was on yours a breath later, and his hand was on your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you properly.

Of course he was a good kisser.

Fucking of course he was, he had to be, but it was one thing to know it in an agnostic kind of way, and another to feel his lips pressing into yours. You shivered when his tongue swept over your bottom lip and when you mirrored the motion, something in his chest rumbled, and Jake parted his lips for you.

He tasted faintly of toothpaste, and he had some kind of chapstick on his lips that was sweet, and you couldn’t get enough of him. His arms were still around you and he was so warm, so broad, and you couldn’t help but press yourself against him. When your arms wound around his neck, Jake broke away from you. You could feel his chest rising and falling quickly, and his hands fell from your back to your waist, as if holding you in place. He turned his head slightly, kissing lazily at the corner of your mouth, down your cheek, to your jawline.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he murmured against your skin, and this time when you shivered, you knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“You still haven’t told me,” you managed, eyelashes fluttering at the teasing brush of his lips, while you tried to look at him.

To your astonishment and delight, Hangman blushed.

Sheepish wasn’t an expression you were used to on him, not unlike bashful, but you thought it suited him. He looked like he was gearing up to say something and, curious though you were, you didn’t want to get into that right now. It was late, you were still exhausted, and just a few moments ago, you’d thought he hated you.

If his expression now was any indication, you and Jake had very different conceptions of flirting.

“Look,” you said, before he could say whatever he was hyping himself up to say, “this is probably a lot more complicated than either of us were prepared for. So, it’s the New Year…we could start it how we want the year to go.”

Jake’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he smiled softly, a sweet expression on his face. He turned his head to kiss the palm of the hand you had looped around his neck.

“Cuddling,” he said, at the same time you announced,

“Orgasms.”

You would never forget the expression on his face.

Sweetness morphed into amazement, and then quickly into hunger.

“I can pivot,” he said quickly, and you lifted your chin.

“You sure?” you teased, “Don’t want to strongarm you into–”

Your sentence ended with a squeal when Jake turned quickly, flopping onto his back, and pulling you on top of him. Your knee was between his thighs and you couldn’t hold back your grin as you looked down at him. Just like with this kiss, he was letting you lead, but being so clear about what he wanted.

And who were you, to decline?

Kissing him from on top of him felt different, felt amazing.

You could appreciate how sturdy he was, and when you relaxed slightly, you found yourself straddling his thigh. You’d been a part of plenty of dogfight football scrimmages, and Jake was never one for longer board shorts; you knew exactly how strong his thighs were. But it was one thing to see them on display, and quite another to feel them flexing between your legs.

One of Jake’s hands was inching under his sweatshirt that you wore, warm fingers spreading across your stomach as you moved over him.

God, he felt so good, so few layers between his skin and your core, and the pressure of his thigh between your legs was so good. You kissed him again, tongues tangling and teeth clashing, as you ground against his leg.

When you moved, you felt the hem of his boxers slide against your leg, and sue a girl, you were curious. You shifted slightly, moving your thigh higher, and when you rocked your hips, your thigh brushed against his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake gritted as you moved against him, and you thought maybe you didn’t mind the petname, when he sounded like that.

You braced yourself on the pillow behind him and moved again.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

But it was, he was, and you felt pleasure spooling through you, just from his leg between yours, and his gentle touch against your skin. How he reacted to you, how he moved under you, it was so good, like a promise.

“Not gonna lie,” Jake said, his voice still rough, “I really like you in my sweatshirt.”

Your mouth fell open when he pushed his hips up to meet you.

You both stifled a gasp at the motion, the sensation with so few layers between the two of you. Jake’s hands crept higher under your sweatshirt, almost tentative, and you leaned into his touch, encouraging. His hands cupped your breasts, and your head dipped to the side in relief. He made a sound of satisfaction, just enjoying their weight in his hand, then his wrists moved so his thumbs could brush over your nipples. He rolled them, and you felt it in your core, your thighs clenching.

“Love you in my sweatshirt,” Jake repeated, sounding dazed, “but I wanna to see you without it.”

You leaned back immediately, pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

You missed the warmth of it immediately, but Jake’s gaze was worth it. His expression bordered on reverence, and he actually licked his lips, looking up at you. You wiggled on his thigh, heat pulsing, needing something from him, your skin prickling under his gaze.

Jake frowned, the lust in his eyes overtaken by concern. “Too cold?”

You certainly weren’t toasty, but you couldn’t say you cared.

“I would’ve thought you’d have a solution to keep me warm,” you teased, and Jake seemed to accept the challenge.

The hands that had been on your breasts dropped to the back of your thighs, and a moment later he had pushed you back. You were on your back, feet in the air, and Jake turned you gently on the bed so you were resting on the pillows again. You settled in, expecting him to lower himself between your thighs, and were surprised when instead he reached back for the comforter.

Maybe you had misunderstood, he didn’t actually want…

He pulled the comforter over his head, over your shoulders, and you blinked disbelieving at a Jake-shaped figure under the blanket, moving to the base of the bed, between your legs.

You were fairly confident, but that was a lot to ask from someone on a first date, and this wasn’t even that, and you ducked under the comforter as well.

“Jake, you don’t have to–” you protested, realizing belatedly that there was nowhere near enough light to be able to make meaningful eye contact.

“You said orgasms, right?” Jake said, his voice full of a familiar smugness.

He settled at the base of the bed, crouching, and through the darkness, you could tell he was looking in your direction. His hands were intentional on your legs, letting you know where he was, giving you time to tell him if you weren’t okay with something.

If he was offering, you were beyond okay with this.

“Right,” you said weakly.

His hands trailed up your thigh, his warm touch light, and his fingers closed over the band over your boyshorts. You nodded, a sound he heard because your head rubbed against the comforter.

He kissed your thigh.

It was a feather light touch, a brush of his mouth against the sensitive skin, but it was so gentle that it reassured you. He kissed your other thigh, then higher, and one of his hands felt up to your stomach, and he pushed, an unsubtle prompt. You lay back against the mattress, nerves and desire warring within you as Jake kissed higher.

You felt a brush of his tongue when he reached the edge of your underwear and your breath caught.

“Plural?” Jake asked, and it took you a minute to understand his question.

His fingers pulled at the edge of your boyshorts, peeling them slowly down, his mouth pressing gentle kisses as he revealed more of your body. He was exploring by touch what he couldn’t see, so slow and perfect it was overwhelming.

“There’s two of us,” you managed, back to his question. “Hence plural.”

Jake laughed, a soft exhale against your skin. He’d bared you to him, and you shifted, like you were seeking his touch.

“I know this is new for us, sweetheart,” he mumbled, a kiss to your hipbone, then the opposite, “but that’s not how this is going to work.”

You bit your lip, nervous again.

You were new to this with him, and some guys thought oral sex was some kind of prerequisite – check the box, half ass it for thirty seconds, guarantee she’ll let you hit it – but something told you Jake would be different.

You were panting, anticipation making you breathless.

You whispered his name and it was like he was waiting for permission, because he leaned into you. His first kiss against your pussy was gentle, just as sweet as those kisses he’d trailed up your thighs. It was so sweet it made you squirm, and Jake chuckled, a sound you felt as his breath ghosted over you. He pulled back long enough to draw an audible breath, then his tongue licked over the whole of your cunt, a long, torturous swipe that had you trembling.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, muffled, and your hips bucked. “You’re already wet for me.”

You reached under the comforter, your hands tangling in his hair and Jake hummed his approval before following your prompting back to your pussy. He lapped at you, learning you, and when he trailed up to circle your clit with it, you couldn’t stop the cry that escaped you.

“That right, honey?” he asked, sounding smug, and he circled your clit with his tongue. You felt a hand slip from your hip to your entrance, rubbing over you as his tongue played with your clit. He kissed you, teased you, and when he pushed a thick finger into you while his lips closed over your clit, you moaned.

“Feels so good, Jake,” you cried, and you felt him shudder at your voice.

You heard it too, how wrecked you sounded, and it was his fault. Your hips were pushing up into him, chasing the suction of his mouth, the pull of his fingers. He was only a knuckle or so into you, but his finger was so wide, thicker than your own, and you moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion.

It was Jake between your legs, Jake’s wicked smile, sharp tongue, capable hands, Jake who was working you with his fingers and mouth. He felt so good, and your body felt like it was humming to a frequency he set.

You trembled as he sheathed a finger in you, you moaned when he sucked your clit, and when his teeth brushed over your clit, the pleasure coursing through you snapped. Your fingers in his hair tightened, and Jake groaned when you pressed your pussy harder against his face. He groaned like he wanted it, like he craved that reaction, and you came hard.

He coaxed you through it, gentle and steady as he’d been so far, and as you came down, you pulled slightly at his hair.

“Jake, that was–” you gasped, and you felt him laugh again.

“Honey, what part of ‘plural’ is so hard for you to understand?” he asked.

And he pushed another finger into you.

Your back bowed off the mattress; you were so sensitive and it made everything Jake did to you feel so much more.

His mouth traveled down to where his fingers were pressing into you, and he curled them into you. You heard an obscene slurping sound, and your eyes rolled back as you realized he was pulling your release out of you, tasting it from his own fingers.

“Like honey from a honeycomb,” Jake mumbled, his voice thick, and you whimpered at how he sounded.

A moment later, his lips closed over your clit again, and your head thrashed against the pillow.

“Jake, I just–” you panted, but he sucked again and you broke off on a moan. “I can’t, I just – fuck, give me a second– oh, that feels so good.”

Jake either didn’t hear you or he wasn’t listening.

He was following your body, the way your hips were pushing up into him, the way your cunt was clenching down on his fingers, and it was like he was drunk on the taste of you. He suckled on your clit, his tongue laving over you, stoking you higher again. He felt so good, and you were sure you were telling him, but you were fast losing confidence in your ability to form words.

You lost track of time, there was just pleasure, and the heat from Jake, and the way he was working your body.

“You gonna come for me again?” Jake coaxed, pulling back to blow a long stream of cool air over your clit. You flinched, you writhed, you would do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. “I think you can do it, honey, it was so pretty the first time. This pussy is so good, doing such a beautiful job coming for me, tasting delicious and I bet you can do it again…”

Your legs felt limp as he licked over you again, tasting where his fingers fed into you, pumping them and pulling pleasure out of you. His tongue flicked over your clit, a maddening pattern, and when his lips closed, he sucked hard. It was so strong, so unreal, and you shook as you came again.

“Ah, there it is…That’s so good, sweetheart,” Jake soothed, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or your pussy, and you certainly didn’t know which was hotter.

He continued to stroke inside of you, his thick fingers pulling you through your orgasm, keeping you grounded, keeping your pleasure coming.

You weren’t cold anymore.

In fact, you were burning up, and Jake didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. The moment he felt coherency return to your posture, he dove back in. You genuinely didn’t think you could stand another orgasm from his mouth, and you let go of his hair – he wasn’t listening to you anyways – and flipped back the comforter.

God damn, he was so hot.

He looked up from between your thighs, the lower half of his face smeared with your arousal, and he fucking licked his lips, before smiling up at you. His hair was in complete disarray, and you could tell his whole upper body was flushed from overheating, and he looked so smug, so proud, and he had every right to be.

“C’mere,” you asked, and it was enough.

Grinning, Jake crawled up the bed, caging you with his arms again.

He hesitated, unsure what you were okay with, but you kissed him hungrily. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you felt a sort of possessive pride that it’d chased away the cloying sweetness of his chapstick.

Right now, Jake tasted like yours, and you were obsessed.

When he realized he could, Jake returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands smoothed over his back, curling in the hem of his tank and pulling it over his shoulders. Jake wouldn’t separate from your lips to let you pull it over his head and you giggled as he kissed you through it, like an infinity scarf. You felt up his back, hands delighting in the contours of muscles that you’d only admired from a distance, before you caught yourself.

He was so strong.

Warm and toned and big, intoxicating to think of him over you. Finally, he ducked his head to chuck off the shirt, and the motion lowered his hips to yours. You both groaned at the brush of his cock between your thighs, and then Jake was kissing you with fresh urgency. You hadn’t seen him yet, though he’d had his face in your pussy, and you reached between the two of you.

You felt him over his boxers, and Jake broke off the kiss at your touch, his head dropping to your shoulder. It was like he couldn’t contain himself, and his hips pushed into your touch. You explored the shape of him through the thin cotton, your own hips rocking into him on instinct.

Fuck, he felt big.

You felt a small bit of wetness near the fat head of him, and you moaned as your thumb rolled over the leaking precum, rubbing his sensitive head.

“I have a – shit,” Jake broke off, his hips rutting into your touch, and your head fell back. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“Of course you do,” you teased, and it would’ve been more effective if you didn’t sound so needy about it.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek, then scooted out of the bed.

The room felt freezing outside of the bed, but it was refreshing, as you darted over to his backpack. You found his wallet, and the condom inside it, and when you got back to the bed, Jake had only moved to push himself up. He was kneeling in the middle of the bed, and he shifted as he pulled off his boxers.

“Holy shit, Seresin,” you whispered, not even caring that your voice sounded reverent.

His cock was beautiful, thick between his thighs, bouncing parallel to the bed. Jake gripped the base of it loosely, like he had to do something while he watched you watching him, and you crawled back to the bed, still staring, kneeling so your knees almost touched his.

“Can I?” you asked, holding up the condom. “Please, sweetheart,” Jake said, his voice so gruff and gorgeous. You licked your lips and ripped the foil, but hesitated before you pulled it out.

“I’m clean,” you told him, sitting back on your thighs. “Um, we should still use this, but I just wanted you to know.”

Jake caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to him. He kissed you quickly, short and sweet, and there was something unexpected in his eyes when he pulled back.

“Me too, sugar,” he said, his voice deep. “Thank you.”

You couldn't be sure what he was thanking you for, but you felt like you should be thanking him. For making sure you felt good, for thinking of a condom, for making you feel so cared for. So you tilted your head, reached between you to where he was loosely fisting himself, and replaced his hand with yours.

You pulled your hand loosely over him, obsessed with the warm feel of him, how thick he was in your hand, how heavy. Jake’s hands hovered like he wasn’t sure where you put them, and they settled on your upper arms, like he needed you to keep his balance.

It didn’t stop you from leaning down and guiding his tip towards your mouth.

Jake groaned, a beautiful, strangled sound, and it was lost to you when you first tasted him.

This wasn’t the proper angle for a proper blow job, and you wanted to feel him, but you were curious, and your tongue lapped at him. His skin was scalding hot, and a pearl of precum beaded at the end of his cock, like an invitation. You licked it into your mouth, moaning at the salty, rich taste of him.

Jake’s hand fell to the back of your head, not pushing, but like he needed to steady himself. You licked over him, acquainting yourself with him, learning the veins and sensitive spots, knowing you’d want to come back to them later. Too soon, Jake’s hand tightened in your hair.

You looked up at him, hoping he’d like the picture of you from this angle. His jaw clenched and his eyes fluttered shut, if that was any indication.

“Need to be inside you,” he ground out, and opened his eyes. “That mouth is so sweet, honey, gonna make this be over too soon. I want to feel that pussy.”

God, you wanted that too.

You pushed yourself back up, pulled the condom out, and rolled it over his thick length. His thighs were shaking, you noticed, and it filled you with something like tenderness. That he’d get you there twice, then let you play with him, then say “please”, like fucking you was a privilege.

When your hand reached the base of his dick, condom secured, he surged forward to kiss you. You swayed on the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, his hands cupping your face, yours on his waist. Both pulling, both needing to be closer, and when Jake lowered you back down, you followed his prompting eagerly.

He settled you back against the pillows, back how you’d been when he’d driven you to the stars with his tongue, but this time his handsome face was right over you. When he settled over you, you closed your eyes against the intensity of the moment. You were both fully naked, and it felt so heavenly to have so much of his skin pressed against yours. He was warm, strong, all around you, and you needed him in you too.

You spread your legs, letting him rest deeper between your thighs, and whimpering when his hot cock brushed against your stomach, then down.

“Don’t know how slow I can take this,” Jake said, like he expected you to have a problem with that.

“I want to feel you,” you told him, honestly. “Please.”

Jake kissed you again, pulling back to press his forehead to yours as he guided his dick between your thighs.

You’d had two orgasms.

You’d had his fingers and his tongue loosen you, you were plenty lubricated, but when Jake’s cock pressed against your entrance, you realized it hadn’t been enough.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you gasped, as his fat head pressed against your pussy, waiting for resistance to melt.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, “you can do it…You’re doing so good, just a little bit of give, come on…”

You whimpered at the new endearment, but there was no way. You felt needy, cloying. You could fit him, you knew it, but it felt—there.

He eased in, just a breath, and you felt like sobbing. It was so good, so overwhelming, so fucking tight, and you needed the rest of him.

“Jesus, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake said, he sounded choked, and you loved it.

“More,” you whimpered. “Please, Jake, want to feel you…you’re so big, I need more, please, please.”

“Honey, you can’t say things like that–” Jake gritted, your words driving his hips forward.

You could tell he was trying to go slow, but the feeling of him forcing his cock into you had your legs shaking. You wanted it, needed it, and if begging was the way to get it, begging you could do.

“Want to feel your thick cock, Jake,” you whispered, and he shivered. He was bracing himself against the headboard, and you could feel his arms shaking as he fought to keep from driving into you. “You feel so good, need to feel you so deep…want to come on your cock, please, Jake…come on and fuck me.”

He groaned like he was in pain, as he pressed deeper into you.

He was trying to go slow, trying to be gentle, but you wanted to be mindless, you wanted your whole being centered around the deep push of his cock. You wiggled your hips, and sighed as he sunk deeper.

“Thank you,” you breathed, and his hips punched forward again.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you would’ve laughed, but you were too overwhelmed.

This was what you wanted, this was what you knew he could give you. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to your breasts, squeezing and massaging your breasts as he sank into you. You turned your head to look up at him, and found him staring, slack jawed, down at you in awe.

“You make me feel so good,” you coaxed him. “Please, Jake…fuck me.”

Jake growled, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and his hand fell between you to brush over your clit.

You jolted at his touch, your hips opening impossibly wider, and a hotter, stronger arousal racing through you than the steady, heavy press of him. Your hips bucked up, and you tweaked your nipples, working yourself up onto his cock rather than pressing him into you. It took a couple more burning minutes, and you were both coated in sweat by the time he was seated in you.

“Baby…” Jake breathed, his voice a dream and you had to resist the urge to purr. He was so warm, all around you, inside you, it felt like he was grounding you.

Then he moved.

His first pump had your back arching, your knees jolting up, your eyes flying open. Fuck, how did he reach that part of you, how was there room, how were you–

Jake laughed, a deep, dark sound.

“That's what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asked, and he moved again. You cried out, overwhelmed, perfect.

“This what you were begging for?” Jake grunted, between strokes, “This what you were asking so prettily for, and now you have me, and what’s that, baby, can’t find your words? What’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, not a damn thing, but you couldn’t summon the wherewithal to tell him. All you felt was pleasure, pounding and sweeping, full and as good as eternal.

“This pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart,” Jake swore, his head lowering to kiss down your neck. He sucked at the skin there savagely, needing a distraction, and you clenched around him, when his lips closed over your pulse point. “Pulling me in, so tight and warm. You look so good around my cock, honey, you wouldn’t believe… Like a dream, like a fucking wet dream, but you’re here, stretched around me, taking me so good…”

You moaned as he found a rhythm.

The headboard was banging against the wall with the strength of his thrusts, and he pounded into you. There was so much he hadn’t said, so much he couldn’t say, but he pushed it into your body, swore it to you. He soothed it over your clit with his thumb, he promised it with his thick, heavy cock inside of you, and you felt yourself falling into it.

“Please, Jake,” you managed, begging again. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything other than take the harsh fucking he was giving you, and craving it, needing it.

“What’d’ya need, honey,” Jake groaned. “You have me here, so fucking deep, never felt this good, this right—what do you need, baby, tell me, whatever you need.”

Had the room been dark? Surely it’d always been bright light, sparking, blinding.

Pleasure was rolling over you, suffocating, live-giving and you shook your head, moaning with every thrust of Jake’s hips. The only words you could manage were his name, and please, and it seemed to spur Jake on further. His thumb pressed hard into your clit as his hips sped up, and you felt the wave inside you cresting.

“You’re close, honey, I can feel it, can feel how hard this cunt wants to come. Are you gonna do it, baby? Milk this cock, make it even tighter around me, want to feel that, need to feel your pussy twitching around me, sugar, please come…”

Your orgasm shattered over you, blinding and perfect. Your throat felt hoarse from your moans, or your breathlessness, but everything heightened. You felt like you were breathing with Jake, felt every hitch and gasp and shudder as he coaxed you through it. You felt like you were suspended in space, like the only thing there was was Jake’s arms around you and his cock within you and you needed, you needed, him to come.

“Come in me, baby,” you whispered, your voice watery. “Need to feel you, want to feel how you’d fuck me to fill me, please, Jake, it’ll feel so good.”

“Fuck,” Jake shouted hoarsely, his hips thrusting harshly into you. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel too good, you’re so tight around me… I need to come, need to feel– fuck –”

You could feel his thighs shaking, his back tensing, and you turned your head to kiss him as he came. He moaned into your mouth, his whole body jerking as he emptied into the condom. You felt how strong he came, felt how thoroughly it worked through him, and it filled you with pride and satisfaction as he collapsed over you.

You knew he meant to push himself to your side, but you didn’t let him go.

You were just as boneless.

You both lay there, a sticky, sweaty, mess, panting. It was like a dream, a daydream crossed with a fantasy. You were warm, comforted, sated, and the room was still cheap, the motel was still sketchy, but you were suddenly quite alright with this start to the year.

tag list: @cheekymcgrath @laracrofted @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain @hangmanssunnies @callsignspark @lewmagoo @mxgyver @sebsxphia @daggerspare-standingby @ryebecca @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanbrainrot @sometimesanalice @wildbornsiren @whoeverineedtobe @clancycucumber230 @javihoney and i think a couple folks have changed their URLS, so please let me know if you still want to be tagged!

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #misskielwrites

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ninibeingdelulu · 5 months ago

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Beach date ✧

Plot: A date at the beach with your grumpy boyfriend after one of his big games.

.part two.

Even though he loathes anything involving sand, surf and sweat, you somehow still managed to wheedle Sae into this "relaxation outing" with your pleading pouts and promises of indulging his every grumpy demand.

That signature scowl etched deeper into those striking features the second his restless soles hit the gritty shoreline.

"This is already the last damn time," Sae grumbled under his breath, squinting against the bright sunrays glaring off the turquoise waves.

You simply grinned, tugging him further down towards the water's edge knowing full well it was an empty growl.

While Sae stubbornly insisted on laying out that ratty old beach towel, you immediately stripped down to your swimsuit and raced into the refreshing shallows with a joyful whoop.

Splashing around like an excitable puppy until those cold droplets sprayed his exposed skin, earning you a murderous glare that only widened your cheeky grin in response.

"Come on , Sae! Just dip those toes in for me?"

That dry monotone somehow conveyed simmering irritation despite the lack of inflection. "I'll deteriorate into salt and misery, thanks."

Laughter tinkled from your parted lips while giving an exaggerated pout specifically to nettle him further.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before Sae dragged himself into the gentle surf with a weary sigh - arms hanging sullenly at his sides even as you circled him in teasing loop-de-loops.

Every few passes, you'd ghost those pruning fingertips along the taut cords of his neck and abdomen just to delight in Sae's visible shiver.

The creeping blush prickling high across his cheekbones when stealing not-so-subtle glances at your glistening, bare curves.

"Eyes off the merchandise, baby." you crooned with no bite, relishing the scathing scowl you received in return despite his appreciative leer lingering a bit too long.

Eventually coaxing him to lounge chest-deep in that sublime bath while tucking your delicate frame against his front.

Pillowing your head into the cradle of Sae's sturdy shoulder as those strong limbs subconsciously moved to cradle your lower back and thighs underwater.

His mouth remained pressed into that perpetual hypercritical line, though the tiniest sparkles returned to those jaded chips the longer he sat absorbing your serene surroundings and warmth.

Well aware this was precisely the type of simple, intimate moment his thundering spirit craved - no matter how stubbornly Sae refused to admit it.

At some point, you noticed his free palm blindly combing through the foamy shoreline in search of something. Eyes half-lidded while simply absorbing the rise and fall of your entwined figures caught in that gentle rhythm.

Until finally, Sae's fingertips resurfaced curling around some sand-caked treasure he silently brushed off before holding it up for inspection.

A petite pink conch shell with subtle striations and a mesmerizing iridescent interior that immediately reminded you of Sae's captivating irises.

Gazing upwards, you noticed the barest hint of a softened look clouding those very same eyes as the shell turned slowly in his calloused grip - brow smoothed into something almost tender before flicking that intense stare sideways to meet yours.

"...it reminded me of that mouthy little smile you're always wearing like an idiot."

Sae's sardonic tone attempted hiding the tiniest curve peeking out at the corners of his mouth while depositing the conch treasure into your waiting palms - maybe allowing the ghost of delight to play across his stare too before tucking you snug into the shelter of his throat again.

No further sentiments necessary beyond you silently tracing those intricate swirls with your thumb, mouthing 'I love you too, grouch' against the salt-tinged skin warming your cheek until he absorbed that affirmation with a low grumble vibrating clear to your bones.

Sae might swear he loathed these tender, peaceful interludes...but you recognized that lie reflected in the contentment etching his guard-less features and iron grip refusing to let go.

Staying firmly anchored to his tranquil island for as long as these stolen pockets of paradise allowed.

#fluff #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk headcanons #bllk u20 #bllk x reader #bllk x you #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #sae x y/n #sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #sae x you #sae itoshi #sae headcanons #sae x reader #itoshi sae

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apdreadful · 6 months ago

Text

Something in the way he walks

Evan is leaning against the truck with Ravi and Lucy.

He glances up as Tommy walks out of the back of the garage wiping his hands on a shop towel as he chats with Eddie.

Evan can’t take his eyes off him. He feels the heat rise to his face because yeah he’s totally staring at his boyfriend. His incredibly hot sexy boyfriend. And when Tommy glances up and sees Buck, a grin splits his face and he winks.

He says something to Eddie, tosses the rag on a bench and starts toward him with that loose hipped swagger that makes Buck flush just watching him. He loves the way Tommy walks, slow and laconic and it reminds Buck of the way Tommy likes to fuck on the rare mornings they both don’t have a shift.

Morning sex, any sex, but especially morning sex, is sublime with Tommy. Because he likes to take his time and just dismantle Buck.

Tommy starts to pass him heading toward the hanger, when he gets right next to Buck he leans in and whispers “Evan” in that voice that makes Bucks skin tingle “If you’re going to keep eye fucking me. Be ready for the consequences.”

“If you want me to stop, you’re going to need to stop walking like a fucking wet dream then” Buck retorts softly.

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up followed by the wickedest damn gleam in his eye. “I didn’t say I wanted you to stop”

He ghosts his lips by Bucks ear “But I like that you dream about me”

And Buck feels an honest to god shiver run right down his back and straight to his dick.

Suddenly remembering Lucy and Ravi he turns to look at them.

Lucy’s eyes are wide “Holy shit Buckley. Im not going to lie. I find a man who looks at me like that and I’m climbing him like a tree right then and there”

“Yeah” Ravi chimes in “I’m straight, and even I’m feeling a little something”

Evan’s blush sets his face on fire. But he can’t keep the smile off his face. Because yeah. His boyfriend is hot as fuck.

“That man” Lucy says with awe in her voice “Is 100% into you. Like I think he made me spontaneously ovulate with the look he gave you”

Bucks phone buzzes in his pocket. Pulling it out he sees a text from Tommy “So, let’s get outta here. I’d like to hear more about this dream..in detail, with props, and immersive details”

He knows his face is on fire as he stands up, putting his hands in his pockets to quickly and covertly adjust his erection saying “I’m going to head out. See you both later”

“Yeah. Go on you lucky bastard. Kiss him once for me”Lucy teases.

“Yeah. Not from me though” Ravi adds.

As he’s walking away he hears Lucy say “Ravi, you wanna go grab a drink?”

Bucks still grinning when he slides into the car with Tommy.

“What’s so funny?” Tommy leans over and gives Evan a quick kiss.

“Lucy just asked Ravi out”

“What prompted that?” Tommy asks.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it was the way you looked at me. Apparently, you’re so hot, you’re getting other men laid” Buck told him with a smile.

“Well tell Ravi, He’s welcome”

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/55983970"

Inspired by this gif..because reasons 🔥

#jesus mary and twelve carpenters look at the way he walks #it’s stupid making hot #You know Tommy likes firing him up #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #evan x tommy #bucktommy #kinley #tevan #tevan fic #also on ao3

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songfell-ut · 4 months ago

Text

The High Priest

So you know how @iamjoekurose asked me about if Frisk met an opposite-gender version of herself? The idea high-key got its hooks in me and I procured a little something from the sublime @skyworkartzzz and this is male Frisk.

What's that, you say? Mr. Frisk isn't enough? Well too bad, I definitely didn't spend almost a week one-finger typing a la George RR Martin and this totally isn't a scene taking place the morning of All Souls Day in chapter 6. If it was, I'd clarify that this Frisk doesn't need help putting earrings on...it's a little more involved.

You also won't find a casual version of his outfit at the end of it beneath the cut. Nope nope.

Frisk half closed the bathroom door, eyes squeezed shut as he flicked on the witchlight. He slumped against the sink, groped around for the left handle, and ran the water at full blast, yawning mightily as the steam rose. First step, wet his face: grab a washcloth from the pile he knew was beside the tap, shake it out, and reach down to...jerk his hand back, his stupid brain catching up just in time to avoid being scalded. He forced his eyes open and adjusted the water temperature to a less damaging heat, muttering under his breath. He needed to hurry up and finish shaving, couldn't be late to tea with—

To his surprise, the door opened and Sans ducked inside, slumping onto the floor behind him. The skeleton gave him a little salute in the mirror and yawned wide enough to make Frisk wince a little. “Mornin', chief. Gettin’ dolled up already?”

Frisk didn’t dignify that with an answer—Sans had initially believed that “dolled up” applied to all humans dressing nicely, and when Frisk tried to explain that it mostly meant a woman putting on makeup, Sans insisted that all humans were the exact same, and Frisk was a human, and it was therefore a correct thing to say and he now said it almost every morning. Unfortunately, that happened to be how often he came in as Frisk was trying to shave, sitting far too close in the narrow space to pester him with smart remarks.

Well, Frisk had heard much, much worse, and on mornings when he wasn't tired and cranky, he generally didn't mind if Sans wanted to amuse himself observing human grooming rituals. At least he wasn't saying "Okay, I'll shave it for later" and making Frisk laugh too hard to get a blade near his face safely; he had had to order the giant skeleton out of the room and shut the door at least twice now.

Luckily, Sans remained silent as he watched this morning's routine unfold. Once Frisk had dunked the washcloth in the basin and scrubbed his face in a still-too-hot attempt to wake up, he tapped the vanity's middle drawer to remove the barrier. Therein lay a spotless straight razor, a large silver case of shaving soap, and an immaculate brush, kept locked up out of habit from the days at the monastery where everyone stole everyone else's bath items. The priest checked the soap and made a face at how thin it was getting, which amused Sans, judging by his smirk as their eyes met in the mirror; Frisk ignored him and wetted the brush down, swishing it across the soap till he worked up a good lather, and dabbed along the lines of his beard and mustache, tilting his head to slather it thickly beneath his jaw. Then he checked the mirror one more time to see if Sans thought that was funny, too - no, he just seemed mildly interested - and picked up the razor. It was time-consuming but not too difficult, just quick, careful movements to scrape the stuff off a few little strokes at a time—

Except Frisk was so tired and squinty that it wasn't long before he gave one little stroke too hard and flinched. “Dirt on a frigging—”

“Atta boy. Cuss away,” Sans said cheerfully, and gave another huge yawn, ignoring Frisk’s glare in the mirror. “Yer face is leakin’," he added. "Need some help?”

Frisk stared at the tiny trickle of blood that was indeed starting its way down his cheek, then sighed in defeat, wiping the blade on a hand towel. “If you could, please.” However smirky Sans was, there really was some benefit to having company with the power to heal stupid inju—

The razor was suddenly enveloped in red mist. "All righty, one sec." Frisk jumped as the blade tugged itself out of his grip and settled on the counter. “There we go. Now hol' still.” The priest watched Sans raise a bony finger and rest the very tip on Frisk's sleep-ruffled hair; a flick of green later, Frisk's cheek tingled as the cut vanished. "Done."

“Thank you,” Frisk said, scrubbing the blood away and steeling himself - ha, steel - to get back to work. Tired as he was, he couldn't walk out of here with only one side of his face done. But he’d probably be fine now that he was more awake, right? He wouldn’t be more nervous and likely to make another mistake in front of Sans, right? Ha ha, of course not. His hands weren't shaky at all from nerves or exhaustion...

Sans broke into his thoughts with a thoughtful sound. “Ya know what? Just lemme do it. Hold real still, okay?” He sat up, his finger curling very gently to rest over the crown of Frisk's head and keep him in place. “Seriously, don' even breathe wrong," he added, lifting the razor on another wisp of magic.

The human’s eyes widened, hands rising in protest as his brain caught up. "No, no, no thank you," he almost whispered, and cleared his throat, pulling enough of himself together to say louder, "Don't worry about that." He ducked out from beneath Sans' finger, smoothing his ruffled hair. "You're a bodyguard and a diplomat, not a valet."

"Dunno what that is. I'm guessin' somebody who shaves rich people?" Sans waggled the razor in midair. "Ya hired me to protect you from gettin' cut up, an' now you want me t'just sit here and watch ya play with sharp objects in your goddamn sleep? Dunno if I'm good enough ta heal you if ya take yer ear off."

That gave Frisk far too much pause before he could answer, "I'm not going to cut my ear off," with very patient dignity, trying to ignore a bit of lather dripping off his neck.

The boss monster snorted. Up came the shaving brush, but before Frisk could tell him to put it down or at least be careful with it, Sans' magic dipped it into the case almost daintily and worked up more soap. "Look, kiddo, lemme try it. If I fuck it up, I'll heal you an' I won't ever mention it again." The brush rose and drifted close enough to dab Frisk lightly on the neck, which tickled enough to make him crack a smile. "See?" Sans said gleefully. "We're good. Just hold still." And his forefinger settled again on the priest's rumpled head.

Frisk opened his mouth to order him out of the bathroom. But…after a long moment of panic warring with irritation and self-doubt, and hearty embarrassment...he swallowed, and, against his better judgment, said, “All right.” He allowed the razor to approach, and watched in the mirror as it drifted close enough for the lightest experimental scrp, scrp on his cheek. It paused, Sans meeting his eye for an inquiring stare; Frisk started to nod, and was stopped by a growl. He tried a smile instead, but that made his cheeks bunch up; he rolled his eyes instead, gesturing to keep going.

Sans chuckled. It seemed he had been watching the morning routine closer than Frisk thought, because there was no need to tell him to pull the skin taut for a closer shave: a speck of magic pressed just hard enough to help the blade pass over the stubble just so. A few swipes, a wipe on the towel, and Frisk let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I lied. You can breathe," Sans deadpanned, but when Frisk tried to smile, he got another reproving tap.

It was easier to mock-glare at Sans in the mirror than watch as the blade moved a little faster, with increasing surety, though the skeleton was intent on his work. Difficult as it was shaving oneself for the first time, never mind someone else, the razor made absolutely no nicks, no missed bits; Sans did pause frequently, forefinger tilting the priest’s head this way and that to check his work in the mirror— “Screw this,” the skeleton said presently. “Just turn around.”

With all the cool indifference of a boy letting his mother spit on her hand to fix his hair, Frisk shuffled around in a half circle and waited for more, only for Sans to chuckle again. “Don't give me that look, pal,” he said, sounding…exasperated, but something else, too.

That was it: the High Priest gave up any remaining dignity and sat down cross-legged on the bathroom floor. Sans shifted onto his side, jaw propped up on on hand, then took a sideways one-fingered hold on Frisk’s head and began scraping away again, much quicker and more confident than he ever was.

Well, dirt. The priest wanted desperately to say something, but his skin would be in peril if he moved his mouth; he opted to keep his eyes closed, allowing Sans to turn his head this way and that to get each side, gentle as always. He never touched him with any more force than necessary, Frisk thought, at least after that first encounter in his prison cell; even when the assassin was after him and Sans was physically maneuvering him to safety, he had been careful not to hurt him. Having much more direct proof of the monster's determination to protect him, trusting Sans with a literal blade at his neck? It was incredibly endearing.

Actually, given Frisk's thoughts of skeleton parts and pondering conjugal relations, it was better – worse? – than that. Definitely more confusing; all these years of struggling to muster interest in any of the women chasing him, of ignoring accusations of preferring men because if he did like them, he surely would have noticed it in all those years at the monastery—Frisk had started to think he was just...broken in that respect. Why in every circle of Hell was he feeling so strange about exposing his throat to a gigantic monster in total security that Sans wasn't going to hurt him? It wasn't fear that made his skin tingle like that, or at least not more than a tiny bit. It definitely felt nice, except that that wasn't the word for it.

When the process was finished, Sans gave a satisfied grunt. “Ha. See?” He nudged Frisk’s shoulder, and the High Priest shook himself, then obediently shuffled around in another half circle, then remembered to open his eyes and pull himself to his feet for an inspection in the mirror. “Beautiful,” the skeleton said triumphantly, setting the razor on the sink.

Wha— Frisk couldn’t help staring at him in the mirror, eyes wide, feeling and seeing his nicely shorn cheeks redden further. “Once again, you have the wrong word,” he said as coolly as possible, and tore his gaze away to busy himself rinsing and drying the brush and razor.

“Wha?” Sans blinked at him, sockets also going wide, and Frisk watched his cheekbones suddenly change color. “Not you, goddammit! Beautiful work,” snapped the boss monster. “As in, I told ya you needed help, an’ then I did it totally perfect. Not like I was gonna cut yer…” He gave a fake cough, evidently remembering that Frisk might not like to hear any hyperbole about having his throat cut.

“Yes, well done. Thank you,” Frisk said hastily, reaching for the towel and barely remembering to run cool water to splash his cheeks first. He needed something cool right now.

...

(His more everyday garb:)

#songfell #sans is the exact same #demisexual male frisk has the opposite problem as his counterpart #men of very high station are expected to be Manly and keep a few ladies on the side in addition to your wife #to not do this is very sus and also lonely #a full version is not getting written out soon but it is now in the queue #homophobia doesn't exist for monsters #humans are...a story #dongfell

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arabzian · 1 year ago

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NANAMI KENTO X CAMGIRL!READER

synopsis: you are a camgirl who speaks daily to nanami, you are his absolute favourite and he spends a lot of his money and time on you. One day, he wanna see you in real life to spoil you more…

tags: prostitution, dom nanami, sub reader, blowjob, oral f receiving, a lot of cum, graphic description, dumbification. Nanami is 30 years old.

! The reader is 100% consent in this fanfic + English isn’t my first language so sorry…!

- He was a regular on this kind of site. The blond felt extremely lonely, and chatting with multiple girls in the same evening could indeed make him forget his loneliness for a night...only to feel even lonelier the next day.

- Nevertheless, when he came across your profile, he felt something of an emotional response. It's impossible for him to explain it rationally, but he'd been attracted by your pouty face and the cuteness of your profile description.

- After spending several days sending him sulphurous photos of you in all possible angles and positions. And also, after having him spend a lot of money. Nanami was ready to empty his entire bank account just to see you one night.

- You accepted. Now dressed in a long dress showcasing your beautiful womanly body, you were sitting in an Uber, heading to the address of the hotel that the thirty-years-old man indicated to you.

- When you arrived in front of the hotel, you were absolutely amazed by the beauty and grandeur of the place. You even wondered if you had the wrong address.

- You looked inside the hotel before receiving a notification on your phone.

Nanamin: I'm right behind you.

- You turned around to fall on the figure of a tall blond in a suit, his shoulders were wide and he looked impassive. Nanami seemed so stoic to you that for the first time in your entire life, you were intimidated by a client.

"Hi…," you greeted, shyly.

”You are so pretty… Did you have a good ride? Have you eaten yet?

- You answered with silence because you only nodded negatively to his last sentence.

- A sketch of a smile appeared on his lips, he didn't expect you to be so reserved. After all, you're a cam girl so he expected you to act with self-confidence in real life.

- But none of that. You were actually a little shy. And of course, he was even more surprised by your beauty. You're even more beautiful in real life.

- After inviting you to a luxurious restaurant in the city, where you had no idea how to pronounce the dishes on the menu, you were back at the hotel.

- The room was even more impressive than you imagined. Nanami smiled at the astonishment on your face and announced that he was going to take a shower.

- You nod your head and once you hear the shower water, you're comfortable on the bed. You took off your dress to unveil a lace lingerie set.

- In order to keep the effect of surprise, you put on the hotel bathrobe without closing it and you tried not to let the anxiety take over you.

”Calm down, he finds you sublime in the photos, he will also love you in reality”. Will you whisper to yourself.

- Nanami came out of the shower still soaked, a strong masculine smell emerged from him and the simple towel that he had around his waist revealed the musculature of his body.

- Oh, you only wanted one thing: that he would make you forget your first name.

”You're absolutely beautiful, I don't even know where to start,” he whispered as he gazed down at you.

- You noticed the nascent boner under his towel.

- He joined you on the bed and started kissing you. You sat on him and perpetuated the kiss. You kissed him all over his face, it was embarrassing to admit, but he attracted you so much that you couldn't stop.

- He laugh with tenderness after your butterfly kisses.

”Nanami, please stick your tongue out.“

- He obeys and you started sucking his tongue. He wanted to explode inside because he liked it so much.

- Then the blond man came down from the bed to kneel before you. He kissed your feet covered with the material of your knee socks.

- He licked the soles of your feet, kissed your toes, you felt worshipped like a goddess.

A man was on his knees before you kissing your feet. What a wonderful feeling.

- He went up his kisses to the inside of your thighs and then began to forage your femininity.

- His tongue played with you, he knew exactly where to press with his tongue to give you pleasure.

- Soon, you'll be pulling on his blonde hair as he gets more and more intense with your poor little pussy.

- He was torturing you with his fingers and his tongue, he was so focused that he could feel your breath getting jerky and your body shaking.

- When you gasped his first name, he anchored his gaze in yours and began to accelerate his movements so that you groaned his first name even louder.

”Nanamin...” you called desperately. ”I will...”

Before you could even finish your sentence, you ejaculated in his mouth. Now with the trickling jaw of your cyprine, he let go a mocking laugh.

' " It seems that the lady is quite sensitive.”

You blush with shame after he teased you, amused by your reactions, he thinks he's gonna have fun tonight.

Nanami put your thighs down perpendicular to his. He put his dick between your thighs covered by your socks and began to masturbate against your thighs.

You kiss each other while he enjoyed rubbing against the material in your socks.

”You are so good for me.” He groans.

Honestly, you loved what he did to you and he paid a lot of money just to be with you.

At that point, Nanami had the absolute green light on your body. He could do anything and everything to you and you knew you'd like it because it's Nanami.

You had absolutely no boundaries when it comes to him. He was so muscular, rich and good at sex. Nanami literally had a hold on you since you spoke to each other on the internet.

He drained a thick, hot liquid on your thighs. In a flash, he laid you down on the bed.

You were on your back and he was on top of you, his intense erection was facing you.

"Now, be a good girl, okay baby?"

You had absolutely the biggest kinks for pet names. You nodded meekly, patiently waiting for him to break you in half.

"We're going to play a little game."

He leaned to the ground and grabbed his tie. He began to tie your two wrists above your head with his tie.

You notice his big thing twitching when he looks at you. Completely vulnerable and at his mercy.

The fact of being tied up in this way highlighted your chest.

Your bra wasn't even a bra. It was ridiculously small and just covered your nipples.

Nanami was very sensitive to fabrics, he wanted to feel everything.

Always dressed in your bra that looked like a bikini top, nanami placed himself correctly on top of you and he began to place his dick between your breasts.

Your breasts were hugging and squeezing perfectly his dick which was already wet because of the pre-cum.

After masturbating with your thighs earlier, he was now masturbating between your breasts.

He passed his tip under each of the fabrics of your bra, feeling your nipples harden and appreciating the contact with the material of the fabric.

To be so much under someone's control, and on top of that, to hear Nanami moaning and using you the way he wanted made you so horny it was ridiculous.

Like a reflex, you opened your mouth wide by sticking out your tongue and he took the opportunity to suddenly penetrate your mouth with his dick.

You gasped with surprise when you opened your eyes wide. You looked at him with confused eyebrows as he smiled with satisfaction at seeing the shape of his dick through your cheek.

Always tied and helpless, you had his semen on your thighs, on your chest and soon in your mouth.

He held your head tightly and kept going back and forth in your mouth.

He waved his hips sometimes fast and sometimes slow and you could feel every inch of it on your tongue.

You felt your pussy get numb and wet.

Nanami went deeper and deeper and laughed at your facial expression. Oh, you liked it and it showed.

He started to moan too and under the excitement of the moment, he pushed his dick into the bottom of your throat.

The shape of his cock was visible from the outside. We could clearly see his dick in your throat.

He stood there for a second, moaning how good you were.

Without warning, he came into your mouth, you opened your eyes with surprise while trying to moan.

He put your hand in your hair like you were a dog.

"Good girl."

He withdrew from your mouth and all his semen trickled down on your jaw.

”Now we can start the serious stuff.”

You were trying to catch your breath, it's true that it was only the foreplay but you were already starting to look like nothing.

Always tied with his tie, you couldn't protest when he spread your thighs and rubbed his dick against your clit.

”I remember the texts. I know you prefer it from behind, but I don't know if I should give you this favor...”

You almost cry when you heard him say that. You wanted it from all your being and all he did was being mean to you.

Tears peaked at the corner of your eyes, you were trying to move to protest but the fact that you were tied up didn't help.

' Nanami, you such a meanie... I hate you!”, you whimper capriciously.

”I love you too.”

He smiles when he can't help but think you were so lovely even though you were covered in his sperm.

He wanted to see you a little more... Then he stopped rubbing up against you to penetrate you.

His big, wide dick finally penetrated into your poor, sore little pussy. The thickness of your lips would squeeze him so hard that he let go of a whimper as he entered.

His dick remained tight between your walls. It was so warm and welcoming. He felt at home there.

He pulled you by the arms while he waved his hips into you.

Your chest bounced every time he moved, and it seemed to you that the walls of the room were becoming abstract.

Nanami was going absolutely feral on you. You deserved all this so much.

He took advantage of the position to straddle you and suck your breasts. Little hickeys were born there.

"Nanamin," you almost called crying. ”Stop I'm sensitive here...”

He continued to suck you even harder while screwing you even faster.

Drool was starting to flow from your jaw.

Without warning, he changed your position and took you in a doggy.

You felt everything so deeply, and he did too. He grabbed one arm for him to look at your face. The sight on your ass, your back and now on your tearful face made him want to make you pregnant.

”Nanamin let go of me...

He didn't answer you, and instead he grabbed your other arm.

Now he was blowing your back by pulling you by both arms.

Your chest was levitating above the mattress and your back was so arching that nanami was going to break you in half.

”You're such a little slut, I love you so much.”

You weren't thinking anymore. You only had one thing in mind: his dick.

Nanami ejaculate into you without warning. He had the biggest breeding kink ever.

As his sperm poured into you, he grunted like an animal.

You were trying to catch your breath, but before you knew what he had just done, he put you against him.

With your back against his muscular torso, his arm raising your legs to gain better access to your pussy, he continued to penetrate you.

He was a monster. How could a man with such a closed face and such a strict posture be like that in bed?

If he continued like that, he'd get you pregnant.

You would have liked to tell him, but you couldn't even talk anymore. Apart from stammering his first name, crying and drooling, everything that came out of your mouth was literally incomprehensible.

”I am going to take so much care of you”, he whispers in your ears while you were crying in distress.

All positions passed through and all places in the room as well.

Right now, you had your breasts glued to the window while he ripped you from behind.

Your breasts were compressed against the window, normally it would have hurt you but in your case when it comes to sex: pain is pleasure.

Nanami grabbed you then and threw you against the table. With your belly against the table and your ass highlighted, he actually seemed to like it in doggy style more than you did.

Suddenly, as you were reaching your climax, he withdrew from you. You opened your mouth of surprise and he took the opportunity to stick his big dick full of pre-cum in your mouth.

You didn't have time to figure out what was going on when he cum into your mouth.

He threw his head back and let go of a sigh of relief.

”This is so good...”

While you still have his dick in your mouth, he looked at you.

"Hey princess, would you mind cleaning me up?"

Without understanding how or why you did that, you obey him.

Kneeling in front of him, you sucked his dick. No, sucking wasn't strong enough to describe what you were doing. You sucked the soul out of him completely, you swallowed his dick and swallowed every drop of his liquid.

While your mouth was moving so vigorously, Nanami had his hand gently resting on your head.

He grabbed his phone, which was right on the table where he had just fucked you.

He opened his paypal app and made a transfer of about 5,000 dollars in your account.

And it wasn't over, he was planning to stay with you tomorrow and take you shopping and buy you absolutely everything you wanted.

You fully deserved it, he was absolutely obsessed with you. You were his little princess.

psa: I love him so so much omg

#nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento smut #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #nanami kento imagine #nanami x reader #black reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami smut

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another-lost-mc · 1 year ago

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the prince's gift

candy prompts: mephistopheles + spooky

you are bestowed as a gift to one of the vampire prince's most loyal subjects, mephistopheles.

pairing: mephistopheles x gn!reader

content: nsfw. dark vampire au. mentions of canon-typical vampire behaviour (mind control, blood-drinking, murder of humans); abduction and non-consensual touching/bathing; derogatory language used to describe reader/humans; suggestive thoughts towards reader; non-con mentioned/threatened but not carried out.

word count: 1.9k don't ask

a/n: takes place sometime after my vampire!diavolo fic (recommended but not required reading).

Mephisto could hardly believe it, but according to his very rigid standards, you were perfect—for a human, anyway.

He received a letter that was delivered to his ancestral home earlier that evening. His lord wanted to reward his unwavering loyalty and friendship and summoned him to the Vampire Lord's Castle to claim it. When he entered the room where he was told his special gift was waiting for him, he found you.

The young prince was known for hosting the finest hunts and parties in the realm, and the selection of humans for both events were sublime in appearance and taste. However, Mephisto had never seen anyone—human, vampire, or otherwise—as lovely as you before. It's as though his lord searched the world for the single human that suited all of Mephisto's very specific preferences as a blood donor and a lover. Hunger and lust warred within him, a rare feeling that made him giddy with sinful anticipation. As his eyes roamed your body hungrily, he realized he wanted to use you to satisfy all his desires tonight.

Before you were brought to him, Mephisto realized you had been prepared for his use; he could faintly detect the lingering scent of herbal soap and body oils used to soften your skin. You were dressed in a simple black robe, fastened loosely with a belt at your waist for easy access to your naked body underneath. Like the linens that covered the bed, the dark clothes you wore would mask the stains of blood and whatever else he might smear across your skin before the night was through.

Mephisto's mouth watered despite the slightly pungent hint of fear that radiated off you in waves. Your eyes widened fearfully under his scrutiny but as he dared to step closer, you didn't move. He realized you were immobilized with magic, and it was up to him to decide when—or if—you would be free of your invisible shackles tonight.

The vampire servants that bathed you earlier giggled as they scrubbed your skin with soap and massaged the lather onto your scalp. They spoke about you like you weren't even there, as if you couldn't hear every scathing word about your plain looks and repulsive stench. They washed away the evidence of your struggle when your abductors captured you; you scraped your hands and knees on the ground when they subdued you in a grungy alley near your work.

The servants also cooed about Prince Diavolo's kindness and how lucky Lord Mephistopheles was to have such a generous benefactor. You shivered despite the scalding water in the tub. These were nothing like the vampires in the cheesy romance novels you used to read. You didn't want to imagine the purpose a monstrous prince or one of his lords would have for you.

Another vampire observed quietly while you were being prepared, blending into the shadows of the room and giving soft-spoken commands to the servants. You never heard his name, but he seemed to be someone of great importance; the servants were quick to obey him.

You burned with shame when you were finally pulled out of the bathwater and dried off with a large, soft towel. The vampire's pale face and dark eyes were no less intimidating when he stepped from the darkness to scrutinize your appearance. His mouth twitched with amusement when you cowered under his gaze and tried uselessly to hide your nakedness from him.

It was a small mercy when one of the servants slipped a drab robe onto your shoulders and cinched it tightly at the waist. The cruel vampire finally nodded his approval and commended the others doing their prince's bidding with speed and efficiency. He commented that you were now an appropriate gift, worthy enough for the noble demon lord. His praising tone, the way one might compliment a finely cooked piece of meat, made your blood run cold; you realized at that moment that you were probably going to die tonight.

Before you could stammer a useless plea for mercy, he snapped his fingers. You were suddenly gagged with a thick strip of cloth that seemed to appear out of thin air and tied tightly behind your head. Your arms and legs were immobilized as if they were suddenly bound in chains. You couldn't speak and you couldn't move—you were powerless to fight back.

The vampire lifted you easily in his arms and carried you to another room. It was sparsely furnished except for a large bed, and you knew a terrible fate worse than death awaited you there. Tears welled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, soaking into the fabric that muffled your cries. Salty tears dried your skin and chapped your lips. The vampire prince's butler was immune to your grief and bowed primly at the waist, an elegant but spiteful gesture, before leaving the room and locking the door behind him.

You were left alone with no chance of escape, shrouded in near-darkness. A single lighted sconce flickered so that flames danced along the walls, teasing you with comfort but providing none. It felt like an eternity when the sound of heavy boots approached the door. You closed your eyes when a key turned in the lock with a metallic click. You were afraid to look at the vampire lord who stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Mephisto circled you slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation of tonight's feast simmer deep in his belly. He could practically hear the warm blood that pumped erratically in your veins with each moment that passed in tense silence. His eyes lingered on the unmarked column of your throat and your body beneath the flimsy robe you wore. He imagined sinking his fangs into you while he buried himself in the tight heat between your thighs and it made his cock twitch.

He finally stopped in front of you and leaned close to scent you properly. The strength of his spicy cologne overwhelmed you. His leather gloves tracing over the dried trail of tears on your cheeks and you shivered.

"You are remarkably beautiful, even in despair," he murmured. The barbed compliment left you speechless like an icy wind on a dark winter's night; the arm that circled your waist didn't offer any warmth. He slipped two of his gloved fingers underneath the scarf still tied between your lips. You tasted earthy leather when he slipped his fingers into your mouth and brushed them over the tip of your tongue. He finally pulled his fingers away when you gagged, tugging the silky material over your chin so it laid loose and damp around your neck.

"Sleep," he commanded softly, eyes glowing gently in the dark room. His voice was deep and gritty from hunger and desire, but you blinked at him fearfully when nothing happened.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Sleep," he urged again, putting more magic behind the command; his voice was sharper and louder than before. His face darkened when that simple magic failed him again, and the heat in his eyes hardened like steel. His body thrummed with frustration and you shook your head pitifully, but your helplessness seemed to enrage him further.

The world spun when he suddenly pushed you chest-down onto the bed. His body was a heavy weight laid against your back, and he caged you underneath him even though you had no possible chance of escape. His hot breath fanned across your nape and you jolted in his arms when the outline of his erection twitched against your lower back.

Later he would wonder why such a perfectly insignificant creature like you was immune to his magic. For now, all he felt was embarrassment that soured his temper and made his anger soar.

I'll remind you of your place, he thought to himself bitterly, incensed by your mind’s stubborn refusal to submit to him. He grabbed your chin roughly and tilted your head to the side so he could sniff where your heartbeat was strongest. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest and then you felt searing hot pain when he sank his fangs into your neck without remorse.

His bite was deep and fierce in his frustration and hunger. He drank noisily and messily, gnawing at the wounds he made so your blood spilled freely. His lips slurped at the deep crimson rivulets that ran down your throat and dripped onto the bed. His hips moved on their own accord, seeking friction for his aching cock against your warm and pliant body while he nursed his wounded pride with the blood in your veins.

The toxic secretion from his fangs was supposed to fill your mind and body with euphoria, but whatever pleasure he gave you was outweighed by the carelessness of his feeding. Your body jerked against him, but the urge to fight him dwindled quickly as exhaustion from blood loss fell over you like a heavy fog. You were perilously close to death, and you succumbed to your hopeless fate. Your heartbeat grew faint with each pulse of blood that poured from your wound and into his greedy mouth.

Even in his frenzy, Mephisto felt the moment you lost consciousness underneath him. He wondered why he cared. Why should he care? You were his gift to use and discard at his leisure. He could drain you dry and leave your wilted corpse on the bed for the servants to dispose of later. He would thank his lord for his generosity.

His memory of you, like your very existence, would eventually be forgotten.

Unless...?

He pulled away from your neck with a gasp. His mouth was slick with syrupy blood that coated his lips and trickled down his chin. He swallowed hastily and leaned forward to inspect your wounds. He touched his tongue to your neck and laved over the jagged tears he bit into your flesh. He silently urged his healing magic to close the wounds and stop the bleeding.

He didn't want to think too much about the overwhelming relief he felt when the marks closed and faded away. Later he would wonder why this magic worked when his charms earlier did not; for now, he had to ensure you were cared for.

When he lifted himself off you and stood next to the bed, he inspected the damage he'd done to your body and the bed. The linens and the top of your robe were soaked through with your blood. He slipped his hands beneath you so he could roll you onto your back. Despite the deathly pallor that tinted your complexion, your face was completely relaxed. He leaned over you and rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip. A bit of blood left on his gloves spread across your lips, and he thought red was a fetching colour on you.

Perhaps later you'd wake up with the taste of blood on your tongue. He wondered what your bloody kiss might taste like if he pressed his mouth to yours. Only when his nose brushed against your cheek did he notice how close he came to kissing you, like some invisible power drew him to you against his will.

He pulled away quickly like he had been burned and only spared you a fleeting glance before gathering his coat and rushing from the room. You were a mystery to solve, and he would pry the answers from you one way or another. But first, he had arrangements to make: you were his now.

read more: halloween 2023 masterlist || obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me mephistopheles #mephistopheles x reader #obey me mephisto x reader #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader #trick or treat 2023 #tw noncon #vampire au

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thevirtualvalentine · 1 year ago

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005. ONE PIECE, VINSMOKE SANJI.

content warnings: readers gender isn’t specified but they are wearing a dress, terrible tooth rotting fluff (author is in love with sanji), morticia and gomez energy, smut author writes fluff (rough).

plot: it’s your anniversary with Sanji and it appears he has something to tell you.

authors note: me x sanji but in the form of x reader fanfic. this is how he confessed to me btw if u even care. Also, the accompanying song is Mio Amore by the Flamingos.

Such beautiful days on the water, it’s been a few months with him already; he only makes your experiences feel that much more sublime. You admit it was risky having relations on a sea bound ship, but you could tell Sanji was different. Not like men who only valued your physical attributes, but one who sees you for your most bare and essential parts.

He asked that you meet him in the kitchen tonight, just the two of you. You expected a fancy dinner and to most likely be interrupted by your Captain who was going to inevitably be hungry and plead with your date to make him a third dinner. However, that was not what you were met with exactly.

Stepping into the kitchen there he was, clad in a black suit with a button up in your favorite color. Pots simmered on the stove as the kitchen was shrouded in ambient light with low jazz filling every corner of the space. The dining table only set for two with bouquets of fresh flowers, where could he have even gotten those? You’ve been at sea for two weeks without stopping at an island.

He turns to you, dropping his knife before cleaning his hands on a towel. “And don’t you look beautiful,” he says, taking your hand while guiding you deeper in his set up for your anniversary date.

“Sanji, what’s all this?” He’s always like this, overly romantic in his affections for you. It’s like he’s never heard of the word subtle. Honestly, it’s what you love about him. His extreme attention to detail over you, the dedication it shows. No one in your life has ever been so thoughtful.

He doesn’t find your words to be critical, learning early on in your relationship that you’re eerily similar to him; posing questions as a means of guarding your own heart. “For you my sweet, happy anniversary.” He places your hand over his heart, allowing you to understand exactly how he feels in this moment. Nervous but calm, excited to be with you anywhere.

“Oh! Before dinner, I wanted to do something.” When he begins to speak, his heart rate picks up the slightest bit. His hand that was placed over yours let’s go before he’s swiveling on the heel of his foot over to where the record was playing. “There’s this song, it reminds me of you,” only softness is found in his voice as he tries to give context to his actions.

The music he listens to always brings a grin to your face, Sanji is quiet the romantic you’ve come to find out. Despite his womanizing first impression, you’ve learned that above all he loves with every fiber of his being; down to his finger tips and toes. He loves his crew, he loves his mom and sister, he loves the Baratie, he loves his true dreams; but you’ve wondered, does he love you?

When he places the needle down on the disc, an old sounding tune fills the air. He rushes back to you asking, “May I?” Ambiguous. You’re unsure what he means but you just nod. You’d give him anything he asked of you.

“𝐌𝐢𝐨 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.”

As the song begins to play he plants a soft and sweet kiss to your lips, pulling away all too soon before taking your hands in his.

The dress you’re wearing matches the setting so well, of course it would be like him to ask to dance. You can’t help but smile. It’s one that lights up every corner of your face, showing all the care you have for him in your heart. A small laugh escapes you as your eyes meet his.

“𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.”

He’s nervous, you can tell in the tension in his shoulders that his posture is abnormally rigid. You’re both keenly aware of each other, intuition a gift and curse you both were blessed with. “You’re sweet dear, this is perfect.” You try to encourage him, settle any anxieties he may have about this whole set up. “No one’s ever done something like this for me.”

He can’t tell you just how much he likes hearing those words come from your mouth. Something instinctively within him wants to be your first for many things. He wants to show you a world where you’re the sun he revolves around, yet that you can also depend on him with any worry or qualm you may have.

“𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.”

You’re both now swaying on the wood floors, the occasional creak of the Thousand Sunny’s can be heard as your heels clatter against it. “Everything for you, always.” It sounds like a promise, something similar to a code he means to live by. A set of values that he refuses to break as his tone is serious.

“𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

“Sanji…” you say softly, he always manages to make butterflies erupt within you. Your hands are placed on his shoulders while his find your waist.

“𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

Your head is tucked into his chest as he holds you close. You can hear the erratic beat of his heart clearly. “I mean it. I would kill for you, I would die for you, do you understand that? I would give up the all blue in your name if you asked me to.” At that you gaze into his eyes, they always seem to tell a depth of truth about him that words can’t. The intensity you’re met with is almost frightening, dark eyes that refuse to waiver. His words go against all that you know. His loyalty to his crew should be first, not to you…

“𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.”

“Anything you could ever want, I would do my best to give it to you.” It’s tender and raw, his feelings always end up that way. You’re all he’s ever wanted and he’ll be damned if you don’t end up the person he wakes up to every day.

“But Sanji, why? What about everything you stand for?” You can’t help the rise of anger in your voice, he’s prone to sweet talking but this is flat out too much.

His face is unreadable, you’re looking for something; anything that could explain his irrational thinking right now. “Because, I’m in love with you.”

“𝐎𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬��𝐞? 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.”

Well, that could definitely explain his ‘irrational thinking.’ Your face screams “what” as your jaw is left agape. “I’ve been in love with you.” He corrects himself. “It feels like I was made for you, and you for me.”

His confession leaves you speechless. Stunned that a man could have such profound things to say about his feelings.

“𝐎𝐡, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞.”

He drops to one knee in front of you, taking your smaller hand in his while his thumb rubs against your knuckles. “I promise you that y/n,” he leaves a kiss on them while awaiting your response.

“𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.”

Those damn eyes, the ones that see you for who you truly are. The ones that rip you to bits and can pick apart your essence, almost as if he can see past your physical being and into something more.

It’s trust that he places in you, handing his fragile and vulnerable heart on a silver platter that you could break into tiny pieces. He’d glue them back together and still love you. He’d rather be a fool that doesn’t learn his lesson than turn away from you.

“𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝.”

Sweeping his blond hair that covers half his face, you’re met with a man who wants nothing more than to love you and to be loved by you. Down to his core, that’s all he could ever ask from you.

“I love you Sanji, more and more every day.” Bringing yourself down to his height, you kiss his forehead, holding his face within your hands.

You swear you could hear him gasp in surprise. Whether it be your confession or action, he wasn’t prepared for it to be reciprocated in the same way. Just as you’ve never had someone to care this much, the same goes for Sanji. While he’s had Zeff, this is far different. A love that is romantic and unconditionally given, all consuming and devoted. You are better than anything he’s ever lusted after, and now that he has you he will continue to make you his.

“𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.”

He stands back up to wrap his arms around you, dragging you into a bear hug with a swirling storm of kisses that don’t seem to stop. “I’m yours, always,” he says to you. Carding his hands in your curls as he tries to meld your forms into one. “Yours, yours, yours,” he repeats. In the way that you need him, he needs you.

If it wasn’t for the food continuing to cook, you could have stayed right there with him forever.

#sanji #my lover boy #he’s so … perfect #I usually don’t write fluff but I only do it for him bc that’s my man #yk #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #sanji fluff #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #one piece #I feel like I dead name him when I call him ‘vinsmoke sanji’ like thats just sanji but —

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alicerosejensen · 1 year ago

Note

Please, since you are responding to requests now, then you may have a little specific text or headlines about how Leon ID, RE4, RE6, Vendetta (any one you like better) copes with the fact that the reader constantly abandons him for the fictional ideal of another man, but in the end always she returns to him, and Leon just loves her so much that he can't refuse her.

If it's too much for you, but please forgive and forget.

No it's fine) I fucking loved the idea. If the text comes out good enough, then maybe I'll even write the second part if someone likes it 😉

Who is she?

Warning: Reader asshole (I apologize); Fem.reader; cheating; Leon constantly forgives; unhealthy relationships; There is a barely noticeable mention of the age difference; Any version of Leon

Synopsis: Leon is tired of forgiving you over and over again, knowing that you always run away from him to another man whom you consider your prince, but when you are disappointed… maybe he should think about himself?

note: I don't think Leon could forgive cheating at all, and even if he did, it would only be once, but just let's dream a little. This man has so much shit that in some of the alternate universes we can imagine that he can forgive the reader.

English is far from my native language, so I apologize for all the errors.

First of all, he was also tired of impermanence. Glass after glass and the beloved princess who is constantly looking for a charming prince again in his head becomes an innocent maiden with soft skin and not that ruinous mermaid who somehow constantly pulls him into her nets. Fingers hold a glass of whiskey in his hands and Leon sees his own reflection in the amber liquid. At the time, you could really be the same sea woman from the legends who drags sailors to the bottom of the oceans, but the trouble is that Leon is at the bottom of the bottle every time you think you have found an incomprehensible ideal in which you will definitely not be disappointed anymore.

Maybe it was your inexperience and young age? Leon remembers how he met you, and he didn't need much. Maybe one or two nights without commitment, without love, because in her heart lived a mysterious woman in red, who sometimes left paper airplanes with traces of lipstick after rare nights.

But you…

For some reason, you have sunk deep into his blood, and Leon himself could not let you go. Gentle touches, stroking your hair in a dream, it was as if he had returned to the skin of Leon's rookie with puppy eyes full of devotion in his gaze. When he nuzzled your neck, touching the skin with his lips, hugging you around the waist so tightly, but painlessly.

It wasn't even about sex, but rather about some kind of warmth and comfort that enveloped like a light veil. Passion was, however, Leon quickly left it in the background, making love to you his priority. Not just a physical attraction, but something more sublime. Just to lie together like this while you're texting someone on your phone, leaving him blissfully unaware that a replacement has been found for him.

"After all, you said yourself that you don't need love," you told him the first time he saw this fucking correspondence in one of the last chats when you were taking a shower. "And I want to be loved"

Then you stood in front of him in a towel with wet hair, while he clutched your phone in his hand, trying to suppress the desire to smash it on the floor. Last night you told him that you were fine with him, and later corresponded with another guy, telling him the same thing. Anger from resentment completely filled his soul. But you were right… He immediately made it clear that he didn't need a serious relationship, but didn't you see all his sincere affection afterwards? He gave you everything you wanted and treated you with such awe, as if he had fragile porcelain in front of him that needed to be taken care of.

And he let you go reluctantly, because it didn't occur to him that you needed those three simple words "I love you", which he didn't think of uttering even in a fit of passion.

The only thing Leon found solace in was alcohol and work that took away all moral resources. But returning to an empty apartment, he wanted more than anything in the world to see you, sleep and bask in the same bed or take you somewhere far away from the noisy city for a week to relax with him. However, his princess was with her Prince charming, which he unfortunately was not. Apparently Leon was some kind of antagonist of this story or just a minor character who is remembered when the plot demands it, because the princess soon became disillusioned with the prince who did not justify all her ideals.

And so history repeats itself… The mermaid swims out of the depths of the sea again to drag him to the bottom with her… It's a funny comparison considering that Leon himself lets you drag him to this very bottom. He forgave… It wiped away your tears, kissing your cheeks flushed from crying and pressed your body to his chest, holding so tightly as if you could fall.

You're so young. So inexperienced and probably a little touchy, so you ran away from him to some asshole who didn't appreciate you as the only flower in the whole wide world. Forgiving you was so easy.

You returned to him that was the main thing after which Leon was going to take care of you to the fullest, not intending to give you to anyone anymore. The relationship was the healing of his traumas. Leon did not even consider what happened between you cheating. There was just a misunderstanding, but now he was going to build trust with you. So as you lay on the crumpled sheets, his lips gently kissed your back. He liked the idea that he was no longer alone. That he doesn't need to live the worst moments of his life alone.

Therefore, returning home always made him look like a dog that was eager to see his beloved person to whom he was attached, and if Leon had a tail, he would definitely wag it so that he could demolish half the apartment.

"Why was it necessary to seek love from other men?"

Leon never considered himself the best partner in the world. Okay, maybe he really doesn't have enough free time to spend with you, but that never means he enjoyed being away from you! Gifts were just a way to make amends with you for his absence, but then he always tried to make up for lost time by inviting you to places ranging from expensive restaurants to a pleasant week-long romantic cruise.

But now, sitting at the table in his apartment and looking into your seemingly sincere tears with pleas for forgiveness, Leon remembers how you left him for the second time.

"What did you promise me?" His voice is ringing in your head, while a cold reaction, along with an indifferent smirk, leaves no chance.Finally, he raised his icy eyes to you, forcing you to remember all your false promises of loyalty to him. "How many times have you promised me that you love me, huh?

Do you remember this number yourself? because Leon is already tired of counting and forgiving.

Silence freezes between the two and only the sound of the heels of your beautiful expensive boots that he gave you not so long ago is heard. You walked up to him and a trail of your perfume enveloped his nose as your fingers stroked the back of his hand.

It is difficult to resist your feminine charms. Initially, Leon considered you the embodiment of a dream that he could reach. As a result, your game of "Love" turned out to be even worse than when Ada played with him. At least she was as honest with him as her secrecy allowed, and you...

"That the last suitor did not live up to expectations again?" sarcastically remarks Leon overturning the glass into himself, drinking the contents completely. "And my beloved princess is running back to the dragon's lair to start waiting for another stupid cute boy who, in her imaginary dreams, will be the one?" Alcohol does not dull the heartache that you brought him with your cheating.

"I'm sorry..." you whisper pathetically, gently grabbing his forearm causing him to let out a low chuckle "Please..."

"What is the number of times? The fifth?" The hand reaches for the bottle again.

Leon is tired of forgiving. Tired of listening to your vows of love and then finding texts with other guys and finding out that you go on dates while he risks his life on a mission.

However, Leon could not himself, he still loved you, but he could no longer forgive these endless antics. The second time, you ran away yourself, telling him that you had found the love of your life, leaving him completely discouraged and confused. That's just this "love" lived for only 2 months, and you couldn't take it anymore, running away from your new lover back to him. Crying, drunkenly clinging to him, and no matter how he was offended by your mean act, Leon's nobility did not allow him to leave you in trouble... Of course, he loved, of course, he wanted you to be there, so when you sobered up and looked at him with such sweet eyes full of tears and sincere remorse for the mistake you made, Leon didn't have the strength to give up on you.

In order for him to forgive, it was only necessary to snuggle up to his back, hug his stomach, sniff and say that you love him very much. You just made a mistake.

Exactly the same scenario was repeated for the third and fourth time, with the only difference being that Leon himself saw a chat with guys on your phone. The last time, he even waited out of interest to see if you would tell him about your subject sighing or if he would have to catch you red-handed again. Fuck, even Ada didn't play on his emotions like that. In the end, Leon decided that he had had enough.

But here you two are again. An endless cycle of cheating and forgiveness.

Part of Leon knew he shouldn't give in to you, but it was so hard to say no. It is already impossible to atone for such an act, and Leon rightly does not want to listen to sweet speeches again, trusting them once again so that in a couple of months he will start licking the wounds from your separation from him again.

"I made a mistake. Again," you said softly, and Leon even ignored you for a while, thinking about something of his own.

"A mistake?" Leon looked at you in disbelief. "It was a mistake the first time. Then I humbled myself and forgave you the second time, but the third, fourth and fifth? Are you serious?!"

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

Oh, those sweet cheeks of yours and tearful eyes that could destroy any defense of his broken heart. You always speak so sincerely that Leon does not understand if you are a good actress or if some kind of chemical chain is really going on in your head, because of which you are constantly looking for love on the side. It's always not enough for you, but for some reason you sleep with him, eat, live, whisper beautiful words and even make ill-conceived plans for children. Casually and more in jest than seriously, but these conversations were!

The problem is that he loves you, but your feelings for him are like a cigarette. And only ashes remain of them. With each new attempt, he wanted to believe that it would be just you and him, but there was always someone else. And Leon just doesn't know where to put himself. Clumsy in the relationship, he didn't even notice or didn't want to notice your manipulations, but looking into your eyes, he wants to forgive you again and again, giving another attempt to start over.

But there is a limit to everything.

"Leon…" a gentle, even voice interrupts the silence. He could dream about you for the rest of his days, thinking that somewhere in your heart there is still a real love for him. Therefore, when he looks up at you again, he feels only bitterness and sadness.

But what can you know about his sorrows? And yet Leon is not surprised by your presence here. You say you missed him, but this time he wasn't going to believe it.

"What do you want this time?"

"You" you answer without the slightest delay, watching as he drinks another dose of alcohol. "Only you. I know I hurt you, but now everything will be different!"

Finally, a sarcastic grin touches his lips. This makes you feel uncomfortable and your stomach seems to curl up inside, telling you that he is so tired of these toxic relationships that he no longer wants to get involved with anyone.

"Are you serious?!" Leon laughs, twirling the glass in his hands. "Where did that prince go? Believe it or not, I'm not even interested in what happened to you this time because you came running to me again to cry and ask for forgiveness. I've had enough of this shit. I'm done"

He already said this last time, but now you bite the inside of your cheek, taking an empty glass from his hands, pushing your fingers into his palm, hoping that tactile contact will give you the advantage to bring everything back and correct all mistakes.

Because of this, Leon head and heart are in conflict again. The desire to be with the woman he loved unrestrainedly was even stronger than Ada was attracted to, but his mind told him that it would be stupid. Even when you knelt down next to him.

"Please believe me. I understand how much pain I brought you, but I realized a lot. I don't need anyone else give me a chance to fix everything!"

"I really want to believe you. If only I could," he said before kissing your palm in his hand. "Not after all your games"

"No more games," you honestly admitted, trying to convince him.

As if it were true. He does not want to check your phone for the presence of questionable correspondence, looking through the texts of forwarded messages with lovers. He was annoyed by the thought of it, but he really still loved you. Besides, Leon didn't want you to get away with it anymore.

"All those meetings… they didn't really mean anything to me. But I only realized it now."

"You already swore to me in love, swore that those men meant nothing to you, but I always caught you and we went back to where we started. If it didn't mean anything to you, why were you always looking for love on the side? Looking for it from other men when I tried to give you everything you wanted?!" Leon lowered his gaze, looking at you with bloodshot tears. "I don't want to take it anymore" He said before grabbing his glass and taking another shot of whiskey.

"This…it was all such a huge mistake of mine. Foolishness."

"Foolishness?" He grinned and his beautiful blue eyes darkened with anger, "Maybe you just don't know how to be faithful? I forgave the first time because we had a condition that we only sleep, but when it turned into a relationship… I had the strength to accept you for the second, third fucking fourth time, but if you think I'm blind and stupid, then you're very wrong. Look for your ideal further since you haven't seen my kind attitude towards you under your nose!"

Alcohol flows through his veins causing the pain he felt to subside a little. His voice broke and Leon bit his lip, not wanting to say more, but here you are clinging to his back with your arms wrapped in a tight ring of hugs endlessly begging for stupid forgiveness.

"Why couldn't you just love me?"

"I love." Your voice almost turned into a plea when you saw that he was giving up. He let those hugs envelop him, but it didn't get any better. "I will never again… I will never betray you. Please believe me."

He would like to… however, he knows that these words are likely to be followed by another knife in the back. Your hands are too warm and it reminds Leon of those happy moments when he did not remember about your love affairs. About those moments when you were just together.

But then Leon stands up to his full height and you literally rush to him in the hope of that very forgiveness. Looks at him with puppy eyes, forcing him to press his cheek to your crown, feeling his beloved and such a native smell. And it was no less pleasant to respond to your kisses. Leon was just basking with you for a while, maybe because of a drunken fog in his head. The words of love were so tender, sweet and poured like honey into the ears, actually being poison. He could even spend the night with you in this state, but there wasn't that much alcohol in his blood.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you grab his face by stroking his cheek with your thumb and for some reason he touches your nose with his nose, smiling sweetly. "give me another chance. The last one."

Leon presses against your forehead, pulling your hands away from him, and grabs your face. Not violent, no. But at the bottom of the sapphire eyes you see darkness. One move of his, and the thin neck will clearly break under the influence of his power.

Leon hates that feeling. He hates that you know what power you have over his feelings and heart. You need a couple of affectionate words, a puppy look and gentle hugs so that he digs into your lips with a rough kiss, to which you will respond

"It was the last chance." He said that when he pulled away from your lips, part of him knew that he was making another mistake "Damn it, you better live better according to every word you say. Because if I forgive you, I won't go through this rubbish anymore. Do you understand?"

Leon closed his eyes and exhaled, although he realized only at that moment that he was holding his breath. It was nice to feel your soft lips, even in a moment overshadowed by a broken heart.

"I love you," he whispered, hoping that this time it wasn't simple words that could easily turn out to be unrequited.

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