#like imagine what's going through this man's head he must be losing his mind and feeling completely alone

[fuckmyskywalker]

𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬.

Summary: A week of chaos. From the end to the very beginning. You find yourself in the darkness, remembering how the light touched your skin first. When you fly too close to the sun...

CW: 18+. dead dove do not eat, non-con, gun play, knife play, knife riding, death threats, dirty talk, dark content. | word count: 3.3k

a/n: Hope you enjoy it! DNI if you don't like the topics listed and DNI if you are a minor. Happy riding!

Hitman!Anakin series.

"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺."

Sunday. 16th.

Comically, he could argue with any soul that crossed the empty streets that life doesn’t have a price. He could laugh at the soft-spoken, naive answer of self-value, laced with the dumb kindness of human nature. Humans are kind by nature, or that’s what idealists say; what— a sane person, he thinks— would say is that humans are selfish by nature, the realistic approach.

Since the start of times, the number two has been sacred. There are two worlds to join in the afterlife: Heaven and hell. Two deities to recognize: God and the Devil. Two spectrums: Good and bad. Two cycles: Day and night… and two options: To kill, or get killed. 

It could also be described as a constant phrase he learned while growing up: “The strong one will eat the weak one”, eight words haunting him like the plague, following him and patting his shoulder at every failure, and congratulating him at every success. Strength equals power, money equals power, intelligence equals power… but can a man have it all without losing his mind? Or perhaps he is just getting philosophical when he shouldn’t. Unlocking the windows with ease as his mind races with the never-ending turmoil of an unfair life, edging him to do unfair jobs, and win dirty money. 

Although Anakin Skywalker has learned that some hot dish soap helps clean the blood stains over dollar signs.

Twisting the knife— an anxious habit— Anakin stands beside your bed, watching your immobile boy. There’s a soft smile plastered on your face, you must be having a nice dream… too bad it won’t last long. Leaning down, the tip of the knife dances over your neck, careful— careful. Not yet. Those aren’t his instructions. Although his boss never specified the in-betweens. 

His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps in your slumber. Your skin is aware of the intruder, the instincts kicking in. “Hey,” His voice is barely audible, but his warm breath sends a jolt of adrenaline like a lethal injection directly into your veins. “Wake up.”

Your eyes shoot open, body jolting forward only to be pushed back by the knife against your throat and his gloved hand over your face. There’s no need to use brutal force, it’s easy to fuel your fear; blue eyes staring into yours through the holes of the black ski mask. He can tell you are shaking— in fact, he can see it. 

“Don’t move, don’t try to scream. If you do, I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear. Smiley face, that’s why I like to call that,” He chuckles when he sees you shivering. Oh, to be the strong one grants him with a power that makes him feel alive. Who cares about repercussions when simple acts and sighs like your tears make him feel immortal? “Do I make myself clear?”

You nod weakly. Every fiber of your being is yelling at you to run, to push him and throw him everything within your reach but you can’t move. Your body is paralyzed and for the first time in your privileged life, you realize something frightening. When he pulls back and lets go of you, the loud exhale that escapes your lungs pleasures him even further. Good. Everything is going according to plan.

It doesn’t matter how much money you have. You can die just like anyone else. 

“See, I can imagine you already know why I am here,” Anakin continues, chuckling when you shake your head. “No? Uh, I thought you’d be smarter. Well, I guess money can’t buy intelligence.”

Your eyes flicker to his wrist, watching him twist the knife. At least he isn’t all over you. How can a human be so calm while toying with another’s future? As if it wasn’t a delicate situation, as if money was everything in the world— pathetic. 

Stuttering, you run toward the only option your brain knows. “I’ll d–double the price. I’ll triple it,” Your legs move, hanging them on the edge of your tall bed. Anakin arches an eyebrow, he could’ve killed you for moving. Yet, he is somewhat interested in your offer. “I can pay much more than whoever hired you.”

“Oh, really?” Anakin laughs. It’s a cold, bitter laugh. There is no humor in it. Only cruelty. “And what makes you think money was the only thing I got paid with?”

“Who hired you?”

He laughs again. It has been seconds since you heard him laugh for the first time and you loathe the sound already. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, darling. Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe it’s just like the movies and I get a mystery envelope with money and your name. Would that make you feel better?”

He is definitely mocking you, which normally would raise your anger and bring out the worst in you— right now it seems like a bad choice. Anakin can’t blame you for questioning, every victim does, sometimes he grants them their wish— when they aren’t that important— sometimes he just does the job, hoping they die with their doubts as their last thought. Your life's on the line, it must be the first time someone has pierced your little bubble… so yeah, he can’t blame you. 

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”

There it is. Classic. His favorite words. Anything means anything. Everything is fair in love and war— everything is fair at gunpoint. “Anything?’ He repeats. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before.” His sarcastic tone flies over your head. You cannot pay attention to anything else besides the ringing in your eardrums and the palpitations of your heart. 

Anakin finds great joy in fueling the terror in your soul. It is something he wasn’t exactly born with— or at least, during his loneliest nights, buried in alcohol and money, surrounded by his guns and his ghosts. He isn’t afraid of them, they can’t hurt him. 

“Anything,” You confirm, lip wobbling and tears streaming down your cheeks. His task was awfully simple, yet, there is something he must do first now that he sees you more clearly. Anakin doesn't have the pleasure to witness such a pretty downfall often.

In a swift move, Anakin lifts the knife over his head, smirking wider when you raise your hands in a pitiful attempt at self-defense. Expectant, you sob one last time before the pain comes, before the burning sensation of piercing skin and crimson blood. 

Which never arrives. 

The sharp blade pierces through the sheets and the mattress. Ripping the stitches and creating the most awful sound you have ever heard in your life. That could’ve been your face. Did he miss his shot? Is his aim that bad? Your vision is blurry due to the thick coat of tears, crystal clear and salty that trickle down like tiny diamonds. 

“Money is not enough this time, sweetheart,” He coos at you, cupping your cheek and brushing your tears in a fake act of kindness. His pursed lips make your stomach twist. You never thought there’d be fates worse than death… but here you are. “I won’t kill you—” His words make your shoulder fall for a second as a smile dances on your chapped lips like the weak swing of a butterfly’s wings. “Yet.”

“What do you want from me?” You sob, placing your hands on your lap, not sure what to do with them. You are in no position to fight. You are under the mercy of a clear psychopath. Someone without morals, without ethics and values— under the claws of a monster. 

The worst part? You don’t even know who is pulling the strings tied over the monster’s claws. 

“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’m sure you will find it amusing— and if you don’t I don’t care,” If you weren’t begging for your life, his voice could’ve been attractive. Even his eyes. His fucking eyes that seem to pierce your soul. “You see that handle?” He points at the knife with his chin. “I want you to lift your cute nightgown and ride it. You can close your eyes and imagine a cock, I’m sure you’ve done it before from what I’ve heard about you. If I like the show, I’ll let you ride my cock— and if I don’t like it. I’ll kill you.”

“You cannot possibly ask me to—”

A small squeal escapes your lips when the muzzle of a gun comes in contact with your temple. The steel is frigid against your burning skin. There are no words left in your throat, if you weren’t terrified you would’ve thrown up. 

“You don’t like to think, you don’t like to listen— I’m starting to believe you are actually stupid, princess. You either fuck that knife or die.” Your whimper. Irritating. Infuriating. Fucking lovely. 

Lifting your hips from the bed, you kneel with the little strength you have left. Anakin never removes the gun from your temple, in reality, he presses it further, watching your skin dent slightly. Lifting your sheer nightgown, you clumsily hook your finger at the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with embarrassment.

“Please don’t make me do this,” You beg, losing balance momentarily as your panties hang from your ankle. 

There is a storm echoing in his laugh. Like pouring rain falling over your heart before it even reaches your ears. “If you don’t do it, I’ll force you. I will enjoy it more… and then you’ll die.”

The flat tip of the blade handle feels like steel against your folds. The touch is feathery light, perhaps unintentionally gentle. You are glad there is a thick leather wrapped around it— otherwise, it might hurt even more. 

Rocking your hips slowly, you close your eyes focusing on anything else. You will not enjoy this. You refuse to give him pleasure. If this is the way you die— at least you want to imagine you put up some kind of fight. Despite your constant thoughts— foolishly thinking your mind is stronger than your body— when the handle comes in contact with your clit, your body instinctively jolts. You stop. You don’t talk. 

You don’t want to die. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to enjoy it.

“Spread your legs wider and don’t stop moving. Don’t make me go there and open them myself,” His voice is low. “Show me how much you don’t want this.” His voice mixed with the adrenaline brings you to a borderline dizzy state. 

Resuming your movements, you bite the inner part of your cheek, flinching when his free hand cups your breast. “See? Is not that difficult to obey. I know you are so used to getting your way, little princess. But not this time. Not with me.”

His thumb traces your nipple poking through the silk. You hate yourself for this— even more when you find a steady rhythm. Your clit grinds against the flat top and throbs, quickly begging for more. Hooking the barrel underneath the thin straps of your nightgown, Anakin lets them fall, exposing your chest. 

“Don’t come. If you do, your tiny brains will make a bloody mess over your lovely canopy and walls. Now fucking ride it.”

The leather glistens with your arousal. It’s pathetic, humiliating, miserable. When you position yourself above it, when you flex your knees to fit it— that’s when everything you are— breaks. 

The handle stretches your walls in a way that couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Your arousal helps but only much. Unhurriedly, you begin to ride it just like he commanded you to, just like you have to. Your pussy clenches around it, you can’t even fool yourself and think it is a dick. Nothing could help you now. No one can save you now.

“Seems to be you can listen sometimes…” Anakin observes, removing the gun from your skull to press it against the valley of your breasts. “Don’t think I can’t see how wet you are. Are you that deranged you are enjoying this?”

Are you?

Is he?

You just have to do this. Right?

Too many questions, no answers. 

“Faster.”

Increasing your pace, the tears make themselves known again. You are enjoying it. Your walls are dripping, your pussy is begging for more. The slick sticks to the leather like a second layer of shine, the sounds your body is making are against your will— but you can’t stop moving. Anakin breathes loudly, his own excitement evident. You cannot see the outline of his erection underneath his black cargo pants but he feels it, throbbing, leaking, eager to bury itself in you. Hear you sob and feel you clench after every cry.

“So fucking wet,” He mumbles, pressing his lips against your sweaty neck. The soft cotton of his ski mask brushes over your skin, bringing you a nasty comfort. “Remember, if you come… you die.”

The muzzle now dances over your nipple, distracting you from the burn in your lower stomach for a second— when his hand finds your clit. Circling it quickly, roughly, Anakin exhales again right in your ear. 

“I can’t wait to fuck you. I hope you are ready to die while I bury my cock inside you.”

A loud moan, mixed with a throat-ripping wail falls down your lips, body writhing and hips trashing. The handle is as deep as it can go, and before your vision goes white you feel the gun poking underneath your chin. Your hands curl around the hem of the nightgown you are still lifting, almost piercing the expensive and delicate fabric. Your orgasm is strong, it clouds your senses and for a moment the euphoria makes you forget how you just marked your destiny. The handle is sticky just like your thighs. The world is spinning.

Your life is ruined.

Just as your vision goes white, it goes black.

Monday. 10th.

Politics are known to be comparable to walking on thin ice. One false step and you sink— all the way to the cold and lonely bottom. Made only for the ones who can twist and turn others under their will and for those who aren’t scared of the nerve-wracking possibility of being a hero or a villain. 

When your father offers you the vacancy for Campaign Manager you don’t hesitate to take the opportunity. Daddy dearest always serves opportunities such as these on a silver platter. Why would you refuse? Sure, a week before the presidential elections might be signing a death sentence, but why would you care? Even if you fall, your safety net is insured, secured and endorsed. 

“Are you sure you can do this alone?” Natasha Andrews, your father’s assistant lowers her clipboard, focusing her dirty blue eyes on you from beneath her thin-gramme glasses. “We have a week before the election, these last days are crucial.”

“I’ll be fine!” You answer confidently. To have such confidence and naivety that being young gives you. You just feel invincible. “I read some of John’s final projects. A few venues and bookings won’t scare me.”

“I don’t think you are seeing the big picture here,” Natasha calls your name patiently. Removing her glasses, folding them and placing them next to her clipboard, you can already imagine a boring lecture about responsibility. You’ll be fine! “Your father has an image to maintain, a reputation to hold and the statistics are growing in his favor. This last week is to secure the win. Your father chose you for a reason.” Another way to say ‘There are high expectations. You better fulfill them.’

Huffing, you take her words as a weak attempt at an insult. You understand the big picture. You’ve been surrounded by the big picture since you can remember. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Natasha runs a hand through her ginger locks, taking a deep breath. She’s too old to deal with all this. “Look. I know you are young and I’m sure you have wonderful ideas for the campaign, but our time is limited. We can only continue with the schedule and hope for the best. If your ideas can be incorporated into the events then you are more than welcome.”

Always used to getting your way, you find baffling how someone who doesn’t know can defy you— or in your eyes, Natasha is doubting your capacities. Standing up, you point at her. Your manicured nail, painted a crimson red holds an almost accusatory tone. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone— not even your father. There is no chance of failure, because when you are young… you are on top of the world.

“No, you look. I know you are worried but I can do this,” You reply, not bothering to hide the patronizing tone in your voice. “My father knows I’m more than capable. You may not know me but you will. If I want to change the date of a venue, or if I want to make a goddamned pool party we will. I know what’s best, I know what will work.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow at your words, her expression hardening slightly. “I never doubted your… abilities, Miss. We have a schedule we must follow. Nothing personal. It is your first day in your position. Can you even name three key supporters of Jonathan's campaign? Have you planned a meeting with potential donors for when your father wins the elections?”

The assistant has a point, but you won’t give up. You will never lose a fight. 

“Easy, everything you say is too easy,” You narrow your eyes, placing both palms on the desk to hide how they shake from frustration. “If I say the word, my father will fire you. It doesn’t matter how long you have been working with him. I’m his daughter.”

That’s your wild card.

And as usual, it works. 

Sighing through gritted teeth, Natasha rubs her temple. How can an educated girl like yourself be such a despicable person? “Go on.” 

The smile that brightens your face beams like flames. Threatening to consume everything on its way. Everything is easy when you have the influence. You were born with it, what’s wrong with using it? “Alright… key supporters….”

The redhead scribbles down as you talk, from all you know she is playing hangman with your face on the stick figure, not that you care, of course. Your mood heightens as she just listens and comments on trivial things such as locations and schemes. You knew it would be easy. You just need people that follow you. 

“We can do the last meet-and-greet at Cafe Serenity. My father invested in the project and the owner owes him that. I’m sure if we present the petition he will accept,” You talk, tangling the wires inside your head. “I can schedule an interview with Channel 7, Global News Network, and Insider Globe, they do most of the coverage during the elections and my father knows the actionist in GNN…”

“The meet-and-greet sounds good. It’s the perfect strategy to calculate the supporters Jonathan has. Plus the media coverage will be wonderful,” Her jaw clenches as she talks, but you are too busy staring at your nails to see the daggers coming from her eyes. “You’ve got a good grasp on this.”

“I know,” You smile, ignoring the fake smile. 

Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s an unknown number. A frown etches on your face as you pick it up. Excusing yourself from the table, Natasha nods, her blue orbs gluing to your back; if looks could kill…

Closing the door of the meeting room behind you, you bring the phone closer to your ear. “Hello? Who is this?” 

Silence.

“Hello?”

A feminine voice breaks the silence. The unknown woman calls your name and your heart stops momentarily. It sounds vaguely familiar, and it carries a heavy accent that you can’t pinpoint from where. 

“Lisseth? Is that you?” Your chirp echoes through the empty hallway. “I can’t believe you are back!”

Thank you for reading! ✩

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #ꨄ︎𓆪 anya's series! #hitman!anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker au #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x reader smut #anakin star wars

[chasing-chimeras]

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#simultaneously while me and my bf are watching through season 2 - almost to 3 - i'm rewatching 6 on my own #and just got to the part where the spider crawls into theo's skin and like that whole sequence just fucks me up so much #like my boy is homeless #fresh off the victory against the wildhunt but no one's kept in contact with him despite him risking his life multiple times for them #harassed by the sheriff's dept #thinks 'oh this little guy's kinda cute' and then is betrayed by a demon spider #does a quick little surgery before seeing it vanish into smoke and at that point he's got no one to turn to but he's sitting there #struggling with whether or not to call scott #(ignoring the parked on the train tracks part bc i can't handle that rn) #like imagine what's going through this man's head he must be losing his mind and feeling completely alone #and then the hunters literally open fire on him while his hands are up LIKE #he learned so many lessons and became so good and it still didn't matter #he was still alone and getting hit with the shit end of everything even while just minding his own business #i....................i'm just........... #like i'm right right????? #😪😪 #theo raeken never did anything wrong (lie) and he deserved better (true) #theo raeken #🤡

[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇

Prove It

【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

『W.C』 : 3.10k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader

[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;

“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”

“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.

“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.

“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?

“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.

“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.

“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.

“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.

“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.

“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”

It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.

“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;

“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.

“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?

“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.

“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”

You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”

You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”

“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.

“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”

Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”

“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.

Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.

“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.

“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.

“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.

“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.

“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.

“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”

You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.

The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.

“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.

“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”

You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;

“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”

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[naughtyjjk]

just a massage (pt. 1)

characters: nanami x reader warnings: 18+, smut, massage, sexual tension, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation this fic is planned to have 3 parts. if you want to be tagged when i update (and for future posts in general) just leave a comment!

it’s not your first time coming to the massage parlor, but you still feel a little out of place, even if you know how all of this goes.

there’s no one in the room with you, yet. on the bed, you go to lie down on your stomach with only a towel tied around your waist. this is the procedure—you get undressed first, almost completely naked, stripping free of your stresses so that you're ready to fully relax and alleviate any soreness in your body. but you can’t help feeling a little self-conscious every time you start.

what you don't expect is for the masseuse to appear through the doorway completely shirtless, wearing only a pair of tight shorts. nothing is left to the imagination, so you can see everything that he has to offer. it’s hard not to stare. he’s... well, he's hot, your brain supplies unhelpfully.

you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him. the man's blond hair is stylized in a clean look, and he has sharp eyes and an even sharper jawline. his chest is toned, his abs look delicious, and his thighs are thick and strong. it's obvious that he works out regularly. and you didn’t intend to check him out so thoroughly, but your gaze drifts to his arms, the veins that are visible there, and down to his hands.

in a moment, those hands are going to be on you. all over your body. you swallow at the mere thought of it.

before you know it, the man has made his way to the massage bed, standing right next to you. he nods at you in acknowledgement and says nothing else as he grabs all the items he needs from the counter to the side.

you know that his name is nanami kento because it had showed up when you booked the appointment, but it's still a little strange that he doesn't introduce himself whatsoever. he seems to be the quiet type, but from the way he moves, there's confidence, too. he must be skilled at his job.

watching him, you find that you can't look away. it's embarrassing to admit, but you've been fighting to keep your thoughts pure this whole time, and it's quickly becoming a losing battle.

his back is turned to you and you watch his muscles flex as he moves. there are dirty thoughts swimming all through your head; you can't help it, not when there's such an attractive man in front of you on full display. you feel guilty too, because it's not like you came here for anything other than a massage, and nanami is so serious looking that you can tell he holds himself to a high degree of professionality. there's no way he would go after a client. the thought probably never even crosses his mind.

knowing this, you tell yourself to calm down. don't stare at him too much. don't let him realize how you're practically lusting after his body.

he gestures at you and that's when you finally snap out of it. he's telling you to get comfortable on the bed and you do as you’re told, sighing once you're in position. there’s gentle instrumental music playing in the background, a soothing tone that could probably lull you to sleep after a while. right now though, sleeping wouldn’t be possible, given how you’re hyperaware that nanami's full attention has turned to you. 

a second later, without any warning, you feel cool liquid hitting your back and you almost gasp aloud. following that, a pair of warm hands begin to spread it all over your skin. up and down, nanami moves slowly, rubbing across your shoulder blades, along your spine, fingers splayed out. occasionally, they’ll wrap around your ribs, tickling the sides of your breasts.

once the oil is spread out evenly, nanami focuses on your shoulders, kneading into the muscles there. he’s skilled, you can tell that much. somehow, he manages to hit all the right places, working out knots in your muscles that you didn’t even know were there.

“hmm. you have a lot of tension in this area,” nanami murmurs, pressing down. “where else do you usually feel discomfort or pain?”

he asked a question, but all you can think in the moment is, god, his voice. it's low and a bit rough and it does something to you, awakens something in the pit of your stomach.

your eyelids have fluttered shut, melting under his touch. you feel so comfortable here that you almost forget to reply. “mm… a bit lower.”

following your directions, nanami slides down to your lower back, palms dragging against your skin as if to pull all the tension away from your body. he reaches the dip where your hipbones start, rubbing the skin with his thumbs.

“here?” nanami asks, and you hum in confirmation. “let me know if it hurts, but i’m going to go a bit deeper. usually, it’s most effective when you press hard…”

somehow, the pressure is just right that it makes you let out a soft moan, entirely unintentional. embarrassed, you mumble, “s-sorry.”

“don't worry, sweetheart,” nanami reassures you, and that nickname has you melting. he presses at the same place once more. “it's better not to hold back your sounds. letting it out can help make you feel better as well.”

so, even though it still makes you slightly self-conscious, you allow yourself to freely vocalize your appreciation for nanami's work whenever he hits a particularly good spot. after a while, you hardly even notice your own noises, too engrossed in everything nanami is doing that’s making you more and more relaxed… and maybe something else, too.

you don't know if it’s caused by the increased blood flow from nanami warming up your body or what, but you start to notice something stirring inside you. something that you recognize and can only be described as getting turned on. fuck, you curse mentally. this isn’t right. nanami may be insanely attractive, and he's treating you so well, but in the end, he’s only doing his job.

“try not to move so much.” nanami holds you still, bringing your thoughts back to the present. his voice lowers in pitch, just a whisper when he adds, “i know you can be good for me.”

and that—you swallow thickly. you can’t tell if nanami said it on purpose or if you're just interpreting it the wrong way because you're starting to get all hot and bothered now, fighting to keep your growing arousal in check.

but nanami only moves on as normal. he slides both hands down one of your legs, then back up. he does the same for the other leg. again and again, he continues, alternating between the right and left sides. each time, his hands seem to move further inward until he’s fully concentrated on the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

for a brief second, nanami's hands snake under your towel, brushing against your ass. it happens so quickly that he has already retreated before you can even process it. but then it’s there again—a slight pressure on your ass, just grazing it with his fingertips. so light that it could be passed off as an accident. this time, you gasp, feeling tingles spread from the place of contact.

“does it feel good?” nanami's voice is suddenly right beside you, whispering in your ear. the tone is low and sultry—seductive, even. there’s something inherently sexual about those choice of words, the way he says it, the implications behind them.

“ah—y-yeah.” you shudder making a physical effort to keep your breathing even. “feels good.”

satisfied, nanami asks, “want me to keep going?”

and, you think, is this really happening? maybe you were wrong about him. maybe he's not as serious as you thought he'd be, because he clearly knows what he's doing to you. he has to… right?

your heart is racing, and all nanami does is wait patiently for your answer. so, you shift on the bed, spreading your legs apart just the slightest, but it’s an obvious invitation that you know nanami will pick up on. “please.”

without even seeing him, you just know that nanami is smirking.

you moan when he slicks his hands with more oil and begins to run them along your thighs again. heat rushes between your legs and you hadn’t noticed until now, but there’s definitely a wetness there. and it’s not just from the oil—you're dripping, no doubt caused by nanami's sensual motions.

the rational part of you thinks, fuck. this is so inappropriate. you shouldn’t be getting aroused from this, all turned on and riled up in a massage parlor of all places. but the two of you have already gone well past what’s appropriate and there’s no denying that you want more.

“mm… n-nanami,” you try to convey with urgency.

"kento," he corrects you. "call me kento."

shuddering, you moan out, "kento."

nanami's breath hitches at the sound of his name around your lips and it's the first real sign that he's affected by all this, too.

“good girl,” he says, voice low and soothing. the praise sends shivers up your spine. “just relax and focus on my hands.”

it’s not like you can really concentrate on anything else even if you wanted to, especially with the way nanami is being so distracting. your mind is going blank more often than not, but still, you have to ask, “i-is this something you do regularly with your clients?”

“give massages? that’s kind of my job.” nanami chuckles, hands never stopping even once. he’s deliberately missing the point, even though it’s obvious that he’s aware how this is quickly veering away from being a normal session. “now, stop thinking so much and just feel.”

his hands meet in the middle where they rub along your inner thighs, brushing against the sensitive skin, sliding dangerously close to your pussy. moaning, you let himself get lost in the sensations, finally giving in.

“ngh—there,” you mumble. “o-oh… fuck…”

“that’s it, let yourself enjoy it. there’s nothing to be worried about.” nanami's movements have grown more daring, not at all matching his words. “remember, this is just a massage.”

nanami moves higher and higher, nudging the towel until it’s riding up on your hips, exposing your ass fully. he pauses as if to admire the view before warm hands caress your cheeks, rubbing in circular motions. the oil makes everything feel even better, a smooth glide across your skin as anticipation boils inside you.

it’s hard to tell how long this goes on for. nanami seems content just touching you, holding the mounds of your ass in his hands and alternating between gentle scrapes of his fingertips and hard squeezes with his palms.

soon, the rhythm of his movements begins to change, and it takes you a moment to realize that nanami is subtly spreading your pussy apart. you hold your breath as he trails a finger slowly, slowly along the outside of your opening.

“you have a nice pussy,” nanami says appreciatively, almost like he’s just making normal conversation, and you go hot at the compliment. “so wet and tight…”

fuck. you can’t help it; arousal washes through you and you have to bite back a moan as nanami continues working his magic. you're being seduced—every dirty word insinuating something more is calculated, every touch on your body is meant to break you down—and you're hardly even resisting. the sexual tension is palpable in the air. it’s no surprise that you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

you swallow, mouth dry. you remind yourself to take slow, steady breaths.

it’s just a massage, you think helplessly as nanami brushes past your pussy again and again and again, merciless in his assault, leaving you trembling on the bed. without fail, your body flinches every time those skilled fingers come in contact with your most sensitive spot. it’s torturously repetitive, and you may know exactly what’s coming, but the effect it has on you is still the same.

just a massage, you think as nanami traces around your opening, applying almost enough pressure to push inside. groaning, you lift your hips subconsciously, trying to get him to go further. nanami only chuckles at how eager you are and removes his hands altogether. it's fucking agonizing.

just a massage, you think. except it’s not. not with the way nanami is playing with your pussy, feeling the wetness there. he brushes a single finger past your clit, igniting every nerve in your body, and you jolt at the sensation. you feel yourself throb with need, so fucking turned on.

“oh—mm, kento…”

“look at how much tension you have here,” nanami says. “you’re all pent up, aren’t you? is that why you’re… looking for some release?”

moaning, you're finding it increasingly harder to concentrate on anything other than the hands that are teasing you. and it is teasing—every action slow and languid like nanami has all the time in the world to take you apart. you can’t help but get impatient, frustrated at the fact that you're both still keeping up the pretense of treating this like a regular appointment.

because what you really want is for nanami to pound you into the bed already, use those skilled hands of his to slip inside you and finger you as deep as he can go. talk dirty to you as the two of you fuck while forcing yourselves to be quiet at the same time in case anyone could hear them from outside the room. god, just imagining it has you getting more wet, your pussy pulsing and begging for more of his contact.

any chance you had of holding back is gone. you're only getting more turned on by the minute, given the suggestive tone of nanami's words and the way he seems to know all of your weak spots, taking full advantage of them. fuck, nanami has made you so horny.

but nanami seems to decide that he’s done playing with your pussy for now. he goes back to rubbing your ass, then shifts to your lower back, higher until he reaches your shoulder blades. and down after that, both palms flat, drawing parallel lines on either side of your spine, over your ass, along your legs.

squirming on the spot, you wait rather impatiently for nanami to touch you where you want it again. but what he does next surprises you—he pulls at the towel and wraps it tightly around your waist, securing it in place as if nothing had happened. then he steps back and clears his throat.

nanami says, simply, “all done.”

"wh-wha—?” your eyes flutter open for the first time since you started. your head is still clouded with arousal as you turn around to try and get a look at nanami.

“your session is over,” he informs you like he didn’t purposely stop as soon as he got you all worked up. “you can get dressed and go now.”

“but i—” you pause, unsure of what to say. you don't want to leave yet. you're beyond aroused, dripping between your legs, aching for more, and you want nanami's hands back on you until you—fuck, until you come.

nanami licks his lips, eyes darkening as he takes in the desperate state you're in. “i know you might still have some… kinks you want to work out, but our time is up for today,” he says, gesturing at the clock on the wall. “please feel free to book another appointment for yourself if you'd like more of my services."

blinking, you slowly push yourself up from the bed, still processing everything. it’s true that you hadn’t exactly expected to get laid when you came for a massage, but nanami was the one who started it, and he got you to this state—so aroused and turned on that you can hardly think properly. he should take responsibility. but as it is, all nanami does is give you space to gather yourself, back turned to you as he busies himself with setting up for the next appointment.

shuffling awkwardly off the bed, you feel like you just went through one of the hottest experiences of your life only to get denied in the end. your pussy isn’t happy with it either, still throbbing between your legs, begging for attention.

"oh, one last thing," nanami says. he steps closer and closer toward you until he has you pinned against the wall, lining up your hips together and grinding into you, just once.

gasping, you throw your head back, feeling exactly how hard nanami has gotten in his pants. the contact of his erection against your aching pussy is delicious, and you let out an utterly wrecked sound, moaning openly at the much-needed friction. “ah—f-fuck—”

mouth right by you ear now, nanami whispers, “i’ll be waiting for you to come back. next time, i'll give your pussy the attention it deserves.”

as nanami steps away, you feel the muscles in your legs giving out on you. you have to hold onto the wall to stand upright. your head is swimming, dizzy with arousal from nanami's parting words, arousal reignited by his actions.

in the changing room, before putting on your clothes, you slip a hand under the towel and don't think twice as you begin to masturbate yourself, far too turned on to wait any longer. your movements are restricted, but you don't untie the towel yet because it feels more taboo this way, like you're committing a forbidden act, and it gets you off more than you'd like to admit.

the setting makes you hyperaware of your surroundings; people are constantly going back and forth in the hallway, and this is a public changeroom. someone could walk in on you at any time. fuck, the whole scenario shouldn’t be this damn hot.

you're already wet and dripping so it doesn't take much to slip a finger inside yourself, pumping it in and out, slow at first. agonizingly slow, like how nanami would do it if he were here. but even that feels so fucking good, to finally give your pussy some stimulation and relief for being pent up for so long.

breaths coming out ragged and uneven, you close your eyes and lets the desire overtake you as you add a second finger. you replay everything that nanami did during their session, the ghost of his touches still lingering on your body. warm hands up and down your back, your legs, your inner thighs… your pussy. oh, the way he deliberately didn’t give you what you wanted but still teased you, teased you, teased you. you have a lot of tension here…

and then you imagine what the two of you would do if you had more time, if you didn’t care about breaking the rules and gave yourselves over to lust completely. the heat of nanami's body flush against yours, his cock rubbing against you, penetrating you, stretching you open as he fucks you, hips moving frantically until you both inevitably come—

the visual proves to be too much and you moan, low and drawn out, free hand moving quickly to cover your mouth so that you muffle the sound of your pleasure. fuck, you want nanami so bad. you want to lie down on the bed again and spread your legs and feel those enticing fingers caress every part of your body until you're begging for his cock to go inside you. hard and rough. filthy.

your hand leaves your mouth as it trails down to circle your clit, shuddering as you play with the swollen nub there. the pace of your thrusts has sped up significantly, trembling as you lean against the wall for support. your hips rock back and forth, both hands moving in tandem as you finger yourself and pleasure your clit, chasing the high of your orgasm.

somewhere out of sight, you hear nanami talking to a stranger, a colleague, another client, maybe. it’s impossible to make out what he’s saying, but just the sound of his voice, low and sultry and so fucking seductive, is enough to send you right to the edge.

“k-kento…” you moan. god, he’s right there, on the other side of the wall. and it’s more than likely that he could hear you if you're too loud, if you lose yourself and fuck, you might as well admit it: you want nanami to hear you. you want nanami to know that you couldn’t even wait to go home because the session had been unbearable for you and you're just that horny. you would give anything to drag him in here and beg him to make you come.

and it’s coming, your release; you're really feeling it now. your pussy is throbbing hard and fuck, fuck, you're close. so dangerously close. moans spill out of your mouth, panting as you thrust into yourself even faster. you can’t take it anymore. you can’t hold on any longer. your hand draws tight circles around your clit, and a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine, and then your hips are stuttering, head thrown back, mouth falling open as it all rushes through you at once. o-oh, fuck—

you come to the image of nanami fucking you hard in your mind, smooth rolls of his hips as his cock pushes deep into you, again and again. you come all over your hand, your arousal dripping down your leg, onto the floor. the noise that slips past your lips would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so fucking good.

slowly regaining your breath and returning to your senses, you look down at the mess you've made, a puddle of your wetness beneath you. you clean yourself up as best as you can and quickly get dressed, grabbing all of your belongings and heading to the door.

as soon as you step outside the changing room, you stop in your tracks. because waiting by the entrance is nanami, alone. the other person must have left already. nanami isn’t saying anything, but the expression on his face tells you that he knows exactly what you've done.

swallowing hard, you walk past him, all the way to the main lobby and out the door of the massage parlor. your pussy is still throbbing faintly in your pants, a lingering echo of your orgasm. you think about the towel and the wetness on the floor you left behind in the changing room for nanami to find, proof of your desire and lust. the self-pleasure you indulged in while fantasizing about nanami.

next time, you think with resolve, you won’t be getting off on your own in a locked room. you're going to have the real thing. 

next time… you’ll make sure that nanami won’t be able to resist fucking you.

.

after you’ve left, nanami runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky breath, cursing. he doesn’t know what came over him. as part of his job, he sees a lot of naked bodies, but he’s always been able to keep a distance and maintain a sense of professionalism. but you—the minute he first saw you, he couldn’t deny his attraction to your body, and that feeling only grew over time as he got started on your massage.

he loved the feeling of lathering oil all over your body, running his hands over your smooth skin and around your curves like he couldn’t get enough of you. he loved watching as you relaxed under his touch, as you undeniably became more and more turned on when he took his time teasing you.

just thinking about it again has him groaning. he glances down at his shorts, at the obvious tent between his legs. the bulge there is obscene, fabric stretched to its limit, and he feels like he could burst at any moment. there’s a wet spot where the tip is and and the fabric shifts as he twitches. he doesn’t remember the last time he had been this painfully hard.

and nanami tries to resist, he really does, but he can’t take it anymore. he’s so fucking aroused that he can’t think straight at all. pushing down his pants, he lets out a sigh once his cock is finally free, springing up now that it’s no longer restricted within its confines.

it stands tall between his legs, rigid and rock hard, curving upward. the veins are prominent and he’s leaking uncontrollably, precum pooling at the head and spilling down his shaft in a steady stream. 

standing by the bed where you had been lying not long ago, nanami closes his eyes and thinks of you in his mind. he doesn’t touch himself yet; instead, his hands start on his neck, trailing down to his collarbones and chest, pausing to play with his nipples. the jolt of pleasure there causes his cock to twitch in anticipation. then he goes further, down his stomach to his hips, brushing against the base of his cock... 

his hips thrust forward into the air, into nothing, as he imagines himself climbing on top of you on the bed, pinning your hands so that you can’t escape. he lines up his cock with your pussy and pushes into your entrance slowly, slowly.

here, nanami finally allows a hand to touch himself. he’s waited long enough; he’s about to go crazy with arousal and can’t fucking take it anymore. fingers wrapping around his length, he gives himself a firm squeeze, moaning, feeling his cock throbbing hard in return. 

and then he snaps, the last bit of his self-control withering away. he pumps his cock with purpose, fast, faster, until his hips start moving in time with his hand, bucking forward at every stroke. he’s fucking you, fucking into that tight pussy of yours, watching as you squirm and tremble and moan beneath him.

breathing hard, nanami twists his hand and circles his cockhead. the action makes his hips stutter, a rush of pleasure washing over him. his whole body is burning hot. he’s getting close, working himself right up to the edge, so close to coming now—

his balls feel so heavy and full. he has to use his free hand to hold onto the side of the bed as he feels his knees going weak, stroking steadily, never stopping or slowing down. his cock aches, throbbing in his grasp. one finger swipes over his slit and his mouth falls open, head thrown back as he whines and cries out. 

he thinks about what you’d look like when you come, begging him for your release. p-please, kento, fuck me harder—i need your cock—i-i’m so close, i’m gonna—gonna come—

“f-fuck,” he grunts. and nanami is coming with you, choking out a broken moan as his cock pulses and pulses. with two more strokes, all the tension in his body is released at once, ropes of white splattering in front of him. he comes in spurts, emptying everything he has all over the massage bed, and it’s absolutely filthy. 

he’s still panting by the time he’s done, coming down from the high of his orgasm. looking around, he remembers where he is and feels dirty for jerking himself off at work. quickly, nanami cleans up the evidence, wiping and sanitizing the bed so that it’ll be presentable for future appointments.

looking at the door, he’s grateful that no one walked in on him because he’s not sure whether or not he would’ve been able to stop in the moment. it had felt so good. he had been so fucking horny, all because of you.

he doesn’t regret doing it. he just can’t let it happen again.

.

part 2 and 3 coming soon!

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian

(comment to be added)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk men #jjk smut #jjk imagine #nanami kento #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #naughtyjjk

[peachsayshi]

(going crazy about Choso watching you in the shower don't mind me.....)

It was the smell of your soap that Choso noticed first. Wafting into the hotel room with that undeniable moisture- the bathroom door must be open.

Open? You'd never made that mistake before. He glanced at the mirror across the bathroom door and saw the cracked door and light filtering through. It was open. The bathroom door was in fact open, and the only thing separating him from your naked form was a thin shower curtain.

Before he knew it, he was standing by that door, peering in. Your silhouette moved and his eyes widened, watching you cleanse yourself of the mess of battle. Could you get your back on your own? His mouth was agape as he imagined himself joining you, washing you, dragging his soapy hands all over your incredible body.

He was rock hard. Overwhelmed by the sweet scent of your shampoo. As you picked up your conditioner, he caught a glimpse of your skin through the gap in the curtain and nearly groaned. He needed you. God, how intensely he needed you...

Like the soothing sounds of a siren, you hummed a tune as you lathered your hair with conditioner. He was enraptured. Nothing could tear him away from this. From you. He softly palmed the tent in his pants, wondering if you left that door open on purpose. Wondering if you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you...

Wondering if you'd welcome him if he decided to join you.

@nyxronomicon 🖤

{oh, nyx. this is altering my brain. you need to take full accountability for what you are doing to me right now, but I also refuse to walk away without leaving a few more crumbs myself. your ask has me clenching my thighs and biting my lip. I am simply losing it over this man!!! now let's think of this scenario, where the temptation is far too much...}

➳  minors / ageless / blank blogs dni   ➳  tags: cw breeding; lchoso in heat; arousal

there's a soft knock on the door that sends a tremor of excitement and apprehension up along your spine. you curl your frame under the shower head, allowing the warmth to veil over your soft, vulnerable body.

"yes?" you call out, your firm tone dwindling through the barrier of raining water droplets.

"did you mean to leave the door open?" choso bluntly asks, making your lungs collapse from the tension in his deep voice.

what are you supposed to say? you think in a moment of panic, that you did mean to leave it open because you wanted to test him?

a lump forms in your throat. you were coaxing someone who barely had the capacity to understand the deep intensity of his human emotions just to play a game of a rabbit toying with a wolf.

instead, you simply swallow your guilt and innocently reply, "yeah, I wanted to let out some of the steam..."

the silence lingers for only a few seconds but the heaviness resides in the short distance of space separating you both.

you hear him clear his throat from behind the door.

"would it be alright if I used the sink to wash up then?"

your heart rumbles, shuddering with enticing uncertainty.

"yes, you can come in."

from behind the curtain you hear his footsteps, a slow approach to the bathroom sink. you're suddenly hyper aware of your naked state, of every drop trickling down your delicate curves, of your nipples pebbling hard from the slight draft that followed choso, and of the throbbing pulse between your legs.

you exhale quietly as he turns on the faucet, wondering what to do next. from between the curtain you study him, his hair down and haloing around his handsome face. his cheeks are slightly red, and he cups the water in his hand as he splashes it across his face.

your hand mindlessly turns off the faucet to your shower.

you avert your gaze just as choso turns to meet yours through the small sliver of space.

"do you mind passing me a towel?"

there's another pause before the sound of choso rummaging through the drawers interrupts the quiet. he approaches you, the shadow of his strong, broad frame prominent from behind the curtain. you don't know why the thrill of it makes you ache, or why you insist on tempting him further when you know that the it truly isn't a fair game.

you curl your fingers around the curtain and peek your head through, your thighs clenching at the expression on choso's face.

there's an unrecognizable hunger in that gaze, a hardness resting along his sharp jaw that's contrasted by the blush in his cheeks. the front of his brows are pinched slightly together, and you can see the veins in his hands pop as he grips the terry cloth fabric between his fingers.

you reach for the towel, noticing his eyes falling to your glistening bare skin, and focusing on the slope of where your shoulder and neck meet.

"thank you, cho." you gratefully reply, as you pluck the towel from between his hands.

when you dip back behind the curtain you swear you hear him sigh with exasperation. you wrap the towel carefully around your body, the length barely covering you up in any decent manner.

choso is still in the bathroom when you step out of the shower, his head now under the sink faucet as he allows the water to run through his raven hair. he slicks back the strands with his fingers, and exhales once again.

"you're free to use the shower now," you calmly state.

he leans back, his hands gripping the counter behind him, but his eyes are fixated on you.

"great," he murmurs through gritted teeth, focusing to keep his attention on your face and nowhere else. "I'll jump right in"

you nod your head, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you try to scurry away but you suddenly freeze when choso sidesteps in front of you and blocks your path.

you're so much closer now. close enough to take in the hard muscles of his torso. close enough to burn with shame from toying with him in this way.

you seize up in panic when draws his hand to your neck, sealing the gap of space as he stands in front of you chest to chest. the tender caress ignites everything within you, and you sink your teeth deeper into your bottom lip as a shivering vibration runs up along your neck. choso has his hand to your throat, his thumb stroking up the column to the space right underneath your ear.

your eyes fall to his pecs, the rise and fall pulling you away from the stillness of the moment.

choso drops his hand to your line of sight, showing off his thumb covered in bubbling suds.

"you missed a spot"

he wipes it off against his pants, as your hand absentmindedly reaches for the place where he touched you. the pads of your fingers lightly dragging over the exposed skin.

you glance up at choso from underneath your eyelashes, "oh, I did..." is all you can say.

your arousal sticks to your inner thighs, making you adjust your stance, but that is when choso directly drops his gaze to your crotch without any hesitation, his expression a battle of desire and concentration.

his breathing slows, and your eyes widen as the heat rushes straight to your cheeks.

why does it feel like he can see right through the material?

like he knows that you’re wet right now.

“I should leave you to it then,” you foggily announce, taking a tiny step back.

“hmm,” choso purrs, his dark eyes gaping at your concealed cunt.

you casually dart around him, stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

every nerve in your body quivering with anticipation.

#choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #choso smut #kamo choso x reader

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐇𝐰𝐚 ♡

Prove It

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 3.10k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: College Au. Smut

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Mingi x Seonghwa x Choi!Reader [FWB?]

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.

Thank you, @sisterofsomeone, for requesting Mingi and Seonghwa for this day. ♡♡♡

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You couldn’t recall the time but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;

“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Seonghwa’s whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Hwa sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Mingi…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”

“We could always just, ask.” Mingi sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Seonghwa throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.

“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Hwa tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.

“Ask who?” You responded making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Seonghwa suddenly sat up straight while Mingi reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird or was it just your imagination?

“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Mingi was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time out of all your brother's friends, Mingi and Hwa were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘San’s Little Sister’.

“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.

“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Seonghwa diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him, oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Hwa or Mingi. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react but now you wished you never took that advice from her.

“Ex. He uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself feeling blush scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Mingi raised his eyebrow, while Hwa clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours and it made you squirm.

“And?” Mingi had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.

“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”

It stayed silent for a moment making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Mingi’s laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay we all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Mingi tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Seonghwa and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“No, he was pathetic if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing and they both couldn’t help but groan at you basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Mingi and Hwa both seemed to become tense, stealing glances at one another.

“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Seonghwa chuckled lewdly making Mingi laugh in response but you snapped instead;

“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.

“I can prove it.” Seong’s words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?

“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.

“Yeah I’ll prove it, come here.” He smirked patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to asked you again.”

His voice was stern and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong Darling?”

You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Mingi had taken a seat next to you and Hwa. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Seonghwa placed his fingers against your chin making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Darling?”

You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Seonghwa, and him touching you. So without another moment, Hwa brought his fingers to your inner thigh hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “Hwa.”

“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.

“Hey, I wanna try.” Mingi’s deep voice tickled your ear making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”

Mingi’s fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Hwa’s dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Mingi take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “M-mingi pleasee.”

“Oh, doll I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled making Seonghwa lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Mingi slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Seonghwa got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them but Mingi’s strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Seonghwa having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Mingi wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.

Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.

“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Mingi grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Seonghwa took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hwaaa. M-Ming―” Mingi suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Seonghwa slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Mingi’s fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Seonghwa’s tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.

“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now do we.” Mingi’s deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore and you needed more. You tried to speak but your mouth was covered tightly. Seonghwa continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Mingi had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.

“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Seonghwa’s fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Mingi and Seonghwa were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Seonghwa’s face. Your tears stained Mingi’s hand while your nose began to drool. Once Hwa helped you lessen your high, he sat up taking a look at the mess you made.

“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Mingi’s lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Mingi finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.

“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.

“Fuck doll. You okay?” Mingi tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”

You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain so instead you kissed him. Mingi’s eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face he deepened the kiss making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Seonghwa who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he place his fingers on your chin.

The kiss was desperate and rough. Seonghwa’s fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Mingi. Now, saying Mingi was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Seonghwa, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Mingi kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.

“Hey, Hwa if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Mingi said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Seonghwa pulled away making you chase his lips.

“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Hwa chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Mingi rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Mingi cupped your breasts squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Seonghwa’s form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Mingi’s hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Mingi’s assault.

“Fuck,” Hwa groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”

You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly they were right, you had no clue how long you’d been at this and if your brother were to wake up there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Hwa putting them back on while Mingi helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy and your legs were on godly wobbly but Mingi’s hard strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Hwa seeing a sweeter less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Mingi stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Seonghwa gave you a long drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Mingi, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Mingi pulled away you looked back at Seonghwa, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;

“Don’t worry Bunny. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”

- ♥︎

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ja3hwa #ateez imagines #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #atz reactions #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz fanfic #poly ateez #ateez poly #poly!ateez #park seonghwa #song mingi #ateez seonghwa #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #seonghwa x reader

[grimm-writings]

hi hi it's bard anon again :) i was rereading the manga and remembered that chilchuck's nightmares would be about losing his daughters... could you write about reader going into his dream (like laios did for marcille) and helping him through it? maybe also promising to keep his secret, asking if he's still married, etc. hehe

aisling

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! hurt/comfort, reader is not a half-foot, some descriptions of gore and body horror, CHILCHUCK PSYCHOANALYSIS 🔥 

…wc! 1773

…notes! grimm lore drop, i’m irish! thus the title of this fic is after the as gaeilge word for ‘dream’. enjoooooy <3

You repeat Laios’ instructions in your head as you try to drift off.  Chilchuck’s body is a bit small to make much of a pillow, but at least his warmth distracts you from the worried stares of your peers.

“You probably have to fight through your own nightmare to get to him!”  Laios keeps reassuring you.  “So be on guard!  Remember what I told y–”

“They get it, Laios!” Marcille yanks the tall-man away from where you’re struggling to drift off.  His barrage of information is in good faith, but it isn’t exactly the best white noise to fall asleep to.

Eventually, you find yourself in your dreamscape.  Quickly, quickly, you let your mind run with ideas of how to ‘dig down’ as Laios described it.  Chilchuck is resting underneath you, so the only way to go was in fact down.

The question is… how?

It took a lot of quick-thinking in order to bypass your own personal insecurities (you don’t have the time to dwell on them– Chilchuck is in trouble!) but eventually you imagined a jackhammer drill to make your way down.  You had to admit it wasn’t the most efficient, but it was the first thing you could come up with!

When you land and face another injury on your backside again, you groan, hoping the effects of the nightmare meant your pain wouldn’t carry over into the real world.

You look up, surprised to find yourself in what looks like a cottage.  It would be rather cosy-looking if not for the torn wallpaper, axe thrown into the wall, and blood splattered all over the place.  You could even hear despairing wails of crying echoing through the place…

Hang on.  You try to prick up your ears.  No, it doesn’t sound too distant at all.  You try to navigate your way through the place that was once a loving home.  You take notice of your size in comparison to the door frames and furniture– you’re way too large in comparison.  This is a home of a half-foot.

Was a home of a half-foot you know very well, you realise with your blood running cold.  Entering the next room you found Chilchuck.  He’s on his knees, hands being held in the air and shaking in a way you’ve never seen him before.  He’s horrified.  Over his lap are the heads of three girls, all brutally mutilated and bloodied in ways that made you feel ill.  One girl looks nearly identical to Chilchuck.

You have a suspicion of what’s going on.

What you have to do is protect Chilchuck from the emotional scarring of the nightmare.  How can you do that, when he already has the blood of three people– likely loved ones– on his hands?  You can hear him whispering “why me?” over and over in the shakiest whimper before he chokes mid-sob.

Creeping over without a sound proves difficult as the door creaks loudly.  Chilchuck immediately stops his crying and freezes as he looks up at you.

‘Be encouraging,’ Laios’ words echo in your mind, ‘encourage him to overcome his fear the nightmares are exploiting.’

Easier said than done, as you can hear another presence approaching.  Your footstep must have alerted it.  Chilchuck rises to his feet.

“It’s coming,” he tells you, trying to keep his voice firm and grounded, “but don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

…Oh!  Looks like he’s already well underway trying to fight back against the nightmare!  This will be easy!  You were so chuffed, you almost forgot that usually you aren’t supposed to be recognised in dreams.

Still, you watch as Chilchuck limps to stand in front of you.  He looks… smaller than usual.  Odd.

You tug on Chilchuck’s tunic with an appreciative grin.  “You’re so brave, Chil.  I know you can defeat the intruder!”

“...Yeah.  It’s my job to get you outta this mess, huh?”

An odd thing to say, but you agree nevertheless.  Encourage, encourage, encourage.  “You’ll get us out of here in no time,” you whisper to Chilchuck, rubbing the fabric of his tunic reassuringly.  “I have faith in you.”

He shifts under your touch as you say this.

You glance over at the limp bodies of the three girls.  You wonder what had gotten them so grievously injured.  Their wounds look non-existent save for splashes of blood on their clothes and red running from their lips.  Chilchuck has already been a bit queasy towards gore.  Maybe imagining anything too excessive would be too much for him.

Then, ‘it’ arrives.

It was a twisted amalgamation of flesh and bone.  Its jaw is unhinged, what could either be blood-red lipstick or the bodily fluid itself running from you think are its lips.  Its hair was dark and matted.  It’s just barely shorter than Chilchuck himself, you notice.  It’s like an uncannily recreated half-foot woman.

When it sees Chilchuck, it screams in a woman’s voice, something about how ‘it’s supposed to be date night.’ 

It ran away at the very sight of him.  At the sight of him with you.

What could that mean…?

Once it leaves, Chilchuck collapses again.  He looks up at you, his eyes big and full of terror.  “Is the party okay?  Where are they?!  I need– I need to make sure they don’t–”

He begins crawling over to the door.  The party?  They’re… here?  No, this is probably another aspect of his nightmare.  These girls are here, either dead when he found them, or he watched them get hurt.

Either way, he was too late.

Cogs began to turn.  Could Chilchuck be afraid of… not being able to protect his loved ones from harm?  The cottage was basically turned into a slaughterhouse.  As for the monster…

“Who’s that woman?” you ask.

“I– I think it’s supposed to be my wife,” he explains rather easily.  Maybe the dreams encourage such honesty.  “But it isn’t.  I know it isn’t.  None of this makes sense…”

…His wife? 

No, no, not the time…  Later.

“That’s because it’s a nightmare, Chil…” you try to explain.  “You have to face your fear.”

“My fear?!”  Chilchuck turns to glare at you.  “Sorry for being so naive, but my ‘fear’ is out of my control!  If I’m here, there’s a chance no one will get hurt.  I–I just need to find the rest of you.  I can’t let you be taken away from me because I was being stupid.”

You grab Chilchuck’s wrist to prevent him from limping away into the cottage’s halls.  “Why don’t you… talk to it– I mean, your wife?”

He freezes.  He turns back at you, his glare making his eyebags look heavier.  “Are you insane?”

“She’s your wife.”

Chilchuck swallows.  His wrist slips from your grip so he could intertwine his fingers with you instead.  “There’s too many things I know she’ll ask from me.”

“Like?”

“Like…  Why don’t I come home more often?  Do I love her anymore?”

You squeeze Chilchuck’s hand, rising to your feet.  “Do you?”

“I do.”  He doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Then tell her.”

Chilchuck deliberates on this for a moment.  He then looks up at you.

“Stay with me,” he requests in the quietest voice, “stay with me as I talk to her.”

Though his words made your chest feel weird, you shake your head.  “This is your job as a husband.  Not anyone else’s.  You can’t protect everyone forever, not even yourself.  Running won’t solve anything.”

Chilchuck is quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words.  He then slowly nods.  “At least walk with me over there.”

“Now that I can do,” you return with a smile.

The floors creak underneath your feet as you journey through the halls.  You can see in the corners of your eye, in the kitchen, a certain dwarf bloodied and kneeling over the sink.  You recognise the body of a spindly tuxedo cat with her arm hanging as she lays on the rafters.  She’s the source of the dripping red onto your clothes.

“I couldn’t protect them, trying to be everywhere at once,” Chilchuck murmurs as you come across an elf strangled with her own hair.

Your eyes lay on the woman feeding on the remains of a tallman and squeeze Chilchuck’s hand.

“It’s okay.  Just talk to her.”

He looks up at you, and you nod.  Chilchuck smiles slightly, and you can see a bit of that spark in his eyes again.  “It… really is a dream that you’re here, y’know?”

You return the smile, and move away.  You’re just out of the room when you hear Chilchuck take a breath and say, “so how about that date night, my love?”

As you walk away, you notice that from the room you left, light seems to be seeping through.  Before you know it, it envelops you.

Suddenly, you’re awake in the dungeon again.  When Laios awoke after saving Marcille, it was very sudden and unpleasant.  Yet this… this was calm, and you feel all fuzzy…

…Oh, but if you could only remember what had happened.  The images are blurry in your mind.  You do remember one thing, at least—

“You’re awake!”  Marcille’s voice is the first to grab your attention, helping you sit up.  “That’s a good sign!”

Laios is there behind you.  “And here’s Chil.  How ya doin’, buddy?”

“Shut it,” Chilchuck’s groggy morning voice is the most relieving thing to hear right now.  Seems you were successful in your mission, even if you can’t remember most of it.

Laios whines a little.  “Don’t be like that!  You had nightmares!  And your hero is right here!”

As Chilchuck sits up and turns to look at you in surprise, you wave back sheepishly.  Laios takes the opportunity to take Chilchuck’s pillow and get rid of the clam-like monsters.

“Oh,” Chilchuck responds with a few blinks.  “I was wondering why my dream was nicer than usual.”

“Oooh, what didja dream about?” Marcille asks nosily.  As she leans her face in, Chilchuck furrows his brow and pushes her away, claiming it’s none of her business.

The answer would be given soon when Senshi takes the opportunity to boil the nightmares.  A cottage scene, and there Chilchuck was, laughing and smiling as he has a candlelit dinner with…

You?

“Enough, enough, enough!” Chilchuck was quick to try and push the pot lid down over the clams in embarrassment.

What?  That’s not how you remember things going.  You squint.  “But I thought you had a…”  You look over at Chilchuck trying to fight back against the questions and accusations being thrown at him from all sides.  

You can’t help but smile a little, flushing a bit pink.  You can keep a secret.

#✮ grimm's fics! #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi imagines #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck imagines

[mikareo]

⌗ ROMANTICISM ₊ ˖ ་. rin itoshi x fem reader (4k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ there are so many words he wishes he could take back, and he realizes now that he loves you. he loves your colorful laugh, beauty, and passion - all he needs now, is to tell you...and say those three little words. (part two of rationalism - must must read first!!!)

contains; colorblind!rin, painter!reader, rin’s mom is reader’s art mentor, rin hates art, strangers to friends to lovers, swearing, immense fluff, , kissing, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness, happy ending!!! author's note; this was originally supposed to end with reader getting into a car accident and d-wording the day of her art gallery...but i changed my mind :D

He misses you. He can’t help it, but he does. 

The memories he has with you are a cassette tape on autoplay - constantly running through his mind on repeat, and always ending with the awful confrontation that you’d left each other with. Rin wishes he hadn’t raised his voice. He wishes that he would’ve been honest with you from the very beginning, but he hadn’t, and there’s no changing the past. All he has now are two empty hands that would much rather be interlaced with your paint-covered fingers. 

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be moping?” Sae’s call is distant from the turning gears within Rin’s brain. He’s sure that his brother has grown tired of his constant state of melancholy - having been forced to be his support system after you walked out the door - and Rin feels awful about it. If he could, he’d rip his heart from his chest and allow you to step on it. To stomp and tear through the organs just as you’d done to those poor bystanding cherry blossoms on the sidewalk. 

“As long as she’s still upset with me.” He groans as his forehead hits the marble of the island counter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well we already knew that.” The dim-eyed boy beside him scoffs while taking yet another drink of his apple juice - which he has unfortunately had to drink for the past hour and a half since Rin had somehow consumed his small supply of alcohol within the past few weeks that the two of you hadn’t been speaking. “I was really rooting for you, man. I thought she was the one to break your cycle.”

“Cycle?”

What the hell does he mean by ‘cycle’?

“Oh, you know,” Sae continues without even taking a breath, “The cycle of life you’ve got going on with your inability to actually attract girls.”

Rin hates him.

“You’re an asshole.” He grumbles, taking his own swig of the pint of orange juice he found in the back of his fridge. Is it expired? Likely yes. Does Rin care, at all? Definitely not. Is he even more pissed off that he doesn’t understand the irony of why it’s called orange juice? He doesn’t want to answer that question. “An unhelpful asshole who should definitely stay over and cook dinner for me since he wants to make up for being said ‘unhelpful asshole’.”

Sae scoffs, shaking his head whilst the thin, soft strands of his hair flit back and forth. His right eyebrow raises in a mocking expression, “You need to get yourself back out there, man. You’ll be old and grey if you keep waiting for the perfect girl to come knocking on your door, so just talk to her. Just fucking talk to her and put me out of my misery.”

“Are you trying to make this about you, right now?” Rin stares at his best friend in utter disbelief, but he’s not truly upset. He knows that Sae holds good wishes for him in all manners of life - this being no exception - and takes his words to heart. He’s right. Of course, he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t even try to get you back. “The sun must be falling out of the sky because I’m actually considering following your advice.”

“That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” his older brother chuckles, causing Rin to roll his eyes. What’s the sensation that everyone has with mentioning imagery every five seconds? “Just talk to her, man.” Sae continues, “Please, I’m all out of advice.”

Rin takes his brother’s pleas to heart. It is quite ridiculous that he’s spending his time depressed and lonesome when he could be reconciling with you. Perhaps it’s his fragile masculinity acting out and refusing to take blame for the situation, although he’s fully aware it’s completely his fault that you’re upset with him. 

It’s difficult for the gears to begin turning in Rin’s head. They’re covered in brittle rust that’s been creeping deep into the crevices of his mind for his entire life - slithering down his spine towards his blackened heart that you had only just begun to breathe life into. He misses the feeling of spring that came when you called. The freshwater rain of your laughter and budding blossoms of your smile that washed away his loneliness and replaced the awful emotion with an overgrown garden of bliss. He still doesn’t understand how he managed to mow that garden down with one sentence. He might as well have taken a chainsaw and brutally hacked into every connection that he’d managed to make with you in your time of knowing each other. 

Now he’s going to be on his knees begging for forgiveness with his hands stained by the minced grass. Does grass stain green or yellow? Hopefully not brown, dear lord. He’ll be buried deep into apologies that should definitely be rehearsed, but he knows he’s not an artist with words and he won’t bother to waste your time with crumpled-up ‘I’m sorry’ notes and improvised tears. 

You deserve nothing but the best - so much more than he’s been giving you and he needs you to hear those words come straight from his mouth. 

When did you begin to mean so much to him? Rin doesn’t even know. 

It could’ve been when you showed up to his game unannounced, with first row seats and a booming cheer that he never knew he desired. ‘C’mon number ten! I know you can do better than that! Beat their asses, Rin!’ He nearly tripped at the sound of your voice, and falling on his face was the last thing he wanted to do in front of Isagi - but to be completely honest, he doesn’t remember much of his qualms with his rival from that day. Rin was solely focused on playing well for you. The world stopped and he was given all the time needed to impress you. You give him a reason to be better, a selfless reason to do good. 

Perhaps it was when you’d shown him around your homey apartment, with maple art easels and splattered canvases lining the walls, and watched with glee as he made his best attempt at a finger painting (which may or may not have ended up looking like two worms kissing). ‘It’s abstract’, you’d say every time he found something new that was wrong with the art piece, ‘All it needs is a home. See?’ You hung his shitty little sketchbook paper on your living room wall, right next to your TV for the whole world to see. The way you stood there staring in awe still rattles his brain. You’ve always been able to find beauty in even the smallest things. 

Or maybe his heart had begun to beat a little faster that Saturday night on the way out of the theater. The romance of the film the two of you just witnessed was still on Rin’s mind, provoking his alcohol-induced body to make a pathetic attempt at holding your hand - which resulted in him accidentally knocking you over into a street puddle that swallowed the heel of your shoe. ‘I needed to take a shower anyway, Rin, it’s fine!’ Your smile continued to be bright despite the low temperature and sprinkling rain, and he can recall wondering how you managed to stay so positive in such a dreary situation. As you discarded your soggy heels into a nearby trashcan and skipped barefoot on the pavement, you called, ‘Come on! Dance with me!’ The shared laughter between the two of you echoed through the seemingly empty streets that surrounded you - hands connected as you swung in circles around each other and fell over one too many times, until he carried your sleeping body home. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever been able to make him laugh as hard. 

The way the corners of your eyes crinkle amidst fits of giggles is his favorite image to replay. He doesn’t need to know the color to be able to see how beautiful they are - to appreciate the blinding sparkle that overwhelms your irises when he accidentally trips over the uneven sidewalk or knocks over your painting station - or even when he unintentionally makes a sexual innuendo that you just so happen to pick up on. ‘That’s a love hotel, Rin! Why would I have stayed there before?’ It was almost as if you were conducting a symphony of glorious laughter that night. The violins played the tune of your voice in a higher octave and the cellos added a punch everytime you’d bite your lip in an attempt to calm down. He hadn’t known what a love hotel was intended for before that night, but he’d also made the mistake to say, ‘I wouldn’t mind going to my first one with you, it could be a first for both of us.’ and you still haven’t let him live it down. Rin’s honest with himself for the most part. He’s awkward, insufferable, and a bore to be around - yet, for some odd and unknown reason, those are your favorite things about him. Why?

Why is it that he can’t function like a normal person when your eyes meet his?

Why do his words rearrange themselves and become complete gibberish when he attempts to woo you with his charm?

What is it that keeps him coming back to you, despite holding such deep hatred for the things that you love most?

“I need to text her.” Rin feels his chest vibrate as he finally makes a decision, the words pouring from his mouth in a short word vomit - forcing Sae to piece together the jumbled mess and attempt to comprehend whatever it was that his big brother was trying to say, to which he jumps up from his seat at the island and aggressively pats Rin on the back. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying, dumbass! Get those fingers movin’!” 

His phone falls into his hands in a millisecond, with Sae eagerly awaiting to hear his poetry. He’s grateful to have such a supportive friend. Rin knows that there aren’t many people who would be willing to put up with him for so long - having been moping around and complaining day-and-night of relationship problems that were solely caused by him - and he can’t imagine not having his support. Hopefully he’ll be able to introduce you, one day. You’ll both give him so much shit for his attitude. Oh well. It’ll all be worth it having two people he loves get along. 

…

Did he just…

What did—

There’s no way.

Did he really just use that word? That godforsaken word?

He’s trembling. Rin’s phone is shaking in his hands as he finally comes to the realization that he does, with his entire heart and being, love you. In an instant, his entire world scrambles together with rapid dashes and line art that he can’t even comprehend. There’s no rules to follow with these types of feelings - this insistent need to see you. Hold you. Kiss you.

Fuck, he wants to kiss you. He can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing. 

Like tapping raindrops that never cease their fall, his fingertips move against the keypad in a rhythmic motion - singing a song of love that can’t be contained into a simple lullaby. His heart pours out into the message, apology after apology being pasted in paragraphs, and hopes with his whole soul that you’ll find it in yourself to at least see him in person. There’s no way you won’t. Rin knows you well enough now that he’s certain he’ll be seeing you again. All he needed to do was take the first step towards forgiveness, and he’s finally willing to be vulnerable and own up to his inability to be honest about his feelings, because he loves you. He loves you and he wants to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, and a million times until you beg him to shut the hell up and kiss you. 

‘I’ll be at the studio tonight. I miss you, ______, and I’m sorry.’

He ends the message with a final apology, begging fate that you’ll read it in time to meet him while he still has courage - and with that, he’s on his way to the place he hates most, awaiting the person whom he loves most.

An hour has passed - well technically it’s been fifty-seven minutes, but who’s counting?

He’s counting.

The sun went into hiding ages ago and the moon now stalks him as he sits in his chair, lonely with two vacant eyes that wish they were gazing at yours. Rin can’t even tell if you’ve read the text or not - the grey speech bubbles look the same as they always have, and the delivered sign is posted at the bottom with no response. He wants to send a follow-up message, just a little ‘hey, you there?’ but he knows that’s a little bit much. If you want to see him, you’ll see him and he’ll confess his feelings once-and-for-all - though, he’s feeling much less confident than he was an hour ago. Ahem, sorry. Fifty-nine minutes ago. 

Rin has a plan of what he’s going to say to you, and hopefully it makes sense when the words begin to fall from his lips. He’s said it many times before, but he’ll say it again, he’s never been good with words or feelings or anything of the sort. He wants to get better, though - to become more emotionally aware for your sake, because he knows that’s a priority for you. You have an image of your dream guy that’s been in your wishes since primary school - tall, handsome, daring, dashing, yada, yada, yada - and he’s trying to be that guy. He needs to be that guy. He’ll be anything for you. 

Anything and everything…even the desperate guy who can’t get a text back. 

Y’know, for a moment - a brief and fleeting moment - the world seemed a little more beautiful in his self-realization of love. The stars glistened brighter and the street lights sparkled in their reflections. Before tonight, Rin hasn’t ever been able to appreciate the natural beauty of what surrounded him. He never understood your fascination with replicating real life into paintings and sketches, but he seems to have digested the concept - at least a little bit. The only thing that could undoubtedly make his world more dazzling would be the sight of you, and holy shit there you are. There you are opening the front door - and your gorgeous, perfect reflection in the glass is looking straight at him. 

He doesn’t need the ability to see color to know that you’re the most fascinating and jaw-dropping sight in the entire universe - and that the rainbow should be rearranged in the letters of your name in honor of your ability to captivate attention and inflict a multitude of emotions on him that he’s never felt before. 

“Rin?” Your melodious voice is the remedy that his ears have been yearning for. “Rin, is that you? Why’re you in the dark?” 

This means you haven’t read his text, right? Otherwise, why would you be confused as to why he’s here? Wait, why’re you even here?

You begin to explain yourself without him needing to ask, “I left my phone in here earlier like an idiot and I’ve been looking for it all day. Isn’t that so dumb?” You let out a little laugh, amused at your inability to keep track of your personal belongings. Why aren’t you acting like you’re upset with him? The last time you talked, you could barely look him in the eye - yet now, you’re so casual, almost as if nothing happened. “Here I am looking for my lost phone, but instead I find a lost Rin Itoshi.”

“What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

The repeated question is met with a pregnant silence as Rin fails to piece together the rehearsed words he had come up with earlier, settling on a bear hug that nearly suffocates you. 

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of touching you again that he barely notices how stiff your posture is. You’re practically a piece of rock in the midst of being carved by its maker, frozen and unable to formulate an action in response - which, in this case, means that he’s your artist. Rin relaxes his hold, urging you to reciprocate his warmth by nestling his face in your neck. Your right arm finds its place wrapped around his waist and your left around his neck, allowing him to engulf you further into his hold. You smell so nice. He notices the lavender perfume that he bought you is still rubbed into your skin, and he’s glad that you’re finally using it. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Rin’s fingers run through your hair in smooth waves, gently kneading out the small knots and helping you relax - and he can tell that your full attention is on him. For the first time in knowing you, there aren’t any distractions or excuses to avoid this conversation. It’s just you, him, and the bare truth. He just hopes he can execute this right. 

“There aren’t enough words to explain how sorry I am, genuinely. I shouldn’t have ever belittled you like that, ______.” He takes a deep breath, one of many, and closes his eyes. The scene of you stomping away from him has no end in his mind. It constantly plays at every hour of the day, re-run after re-run, to torment him and remind him how horribly he screwed up with you. Please, please forgive him. “You’re not just my mom’s student. You’re not just a friend that I get coffee with. You’re so much more than that and I’ve been such a fucking chicken and haven’t been able to be honest with you.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known about my condition and it was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you.” Rin can feel himself begin to cry, his tears raining down his cheeks in cascades of pent up anger and hatred for how he made you feel that day. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by him. “Your work is important to you and I know it should be appreciated. What’s important to you is important to me, okay?”

“You love your art, and I love you.”

He says it over and over again. Those three special words rapidly become six words, nine words, eighteen, forty-two, and onwards as you look at him with an empty expression. Please, please say something. For every second of no response, he confesses his love to you. He confesses as if it’s his source of air - the only way that he’ll be able to survive this encounter is if he bares his emotions with no regrets. If this were a movie, he’d be the desperate protagonist in the climax of the story who fucked up his love life and is begging for a second chance - hell, this is real life and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Just, please, have a happy ending.

You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. No words. No statements. No confessions. You’re simply staring at him like he’s just told you the most absurd news in the existence of the universe…

…and then a tear falls. 

One tear slips from your eyes, followed by another, and another…until your face is drenched in salty rain with black mascara creasing your eyes. You look like a raccoon. Rin almost starts laughing. No. He is laughing; laughing because your false lashes have fallen into your hands as the glue refused to be waterproof - and now you’re standing before him in a puddled mess of makeup and disheveled hair. You’ve never looked more beautiful. 

Rin brushes his fingers across your cheek, attempting to wipe away your tears like an artist covering up a beautiful mistake. If he were a painter, he’d paint you a million times and more - hanging every portrait on every single wall of his apartment, until there was literally no space left for a scrap of paper. You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and the smile that suddenly bursts from your sobs confirms it. 

“What’s going on? I’m so confused, are you happy or are you sad?” He’s so concerned and his inability to read emotions correctly only makes him more helpless. “Talk to me, beautiful. C’mon.”

You lean into his touch and he instantly knows that everything is going to be okay. 

“I just never thought I’d hear you say that.” Your smile is directed at him now, and he feels a warmth that is so familiar yet unfamiliar and he can’t get enough of it. It’s similar to the feeling of being showered in sunlight or snuggling beneath a comforter in the winter - an overwhelming comfort that’s a gift from you to him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. Fuck you for that.”

Now you’re both laughing, giggling, and beaming at each other. His heart feels so at peace. The civil war between his divided emotions, love and loneliness, has finally ceased. 

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Neither of you can stop the flow of confessions that slip from your tongues and in an instant your lips are on his - clashing and colliding in a furious kiss that rivals the strength of a hurricane. It’s almost as if he can physically feel your love pouring into him and warming his heart into a heated flame, stoked by the embers of your touch. God, he missed your touch. The feeling of it is addicting. It’s his personal heroin and he’ll never get enough of it. 

Your lips are just as soft as he imagined them to be, perhaps they're a rosy pink color with the slightest touch of strawberry lip balm that he keeps getting a fleeting hint of taste from. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d love him too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. He silently repeats over and over - grateful that he’s been so blessed to know you…feel you…and love you in the awful world that he hated living on his own  - the world void of color that you’ve somehow brightened by simply breathing beside him. 

His hands are everywhere. Your hips. Your waist. Your breasts. Your neck. He can’t get enough of the feeling of you. With every passing second he’s falling deeper and deeper in love. You’re utterly perfect, he would kiss you for years if that was an option—

Aw shit, he knocked over an easel. 

“Goddammit,” he mumbles while briefly pulling away from you. Of course he had to interrupt the moment he’s been waiting months for with his clumsiness. He’s such a dumbass. If he could punch himself in the gut, he would - but that would be way too embarrassing in front of you - hold up, this painting is familiar!

“Well I'll be damned.” He chuckles and turns the canvas towards you, to which you burst out laughing. “I thought you’d have thrown this out.”

“No,” you gaze at the painting with love in your eyes. “I could never, that’s how we met.”

The painted streak he accidentally inflicted upon your artwork remains in the same position. It seems that you never even bothered covering it up and embraced the imperfection. While Rin cannot decipher the magnitude of colors on the canvas, he’s sure that the various strokes look gorgeous and masterful. You’ve always been so talented. He’s so lucky.

As he places the painting upon a now-standing easel, you rest your forehead against his. He loves you. He loves you so much. So much so that he can’t help but take a step closer, not just one but many, and embrace the overwhelming love and passion he holds for you. There are so many words he wants to say, confessions that can carry on for an infinite number of lines, but there’s no need for that now. You have forever - and he decides to start that forever with his favorite thing…

…a kiss. 

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you more.” He replies.

read the final part here. THANK UUUU

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

#୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ my writing #i.e. romanticism #rin itoshi fluff #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi ff #rin itoshi fanfiction #rin itoshi fanfic #rin itoshi angst #rin itoshi hc #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #bluelock x you #blue lock #blue lock ff #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock hc #blue lock fic #rin itoshi fic #rin itoshi fics #rin x reader

[tumbleweed-run]

Gale x Reader x Astarion anyone?

2600 words of pure unadulterated smut. NSFW below the cut

You step back and admire your work, pleased. 

Gale is on the bed, very specifically he’s naked and blindfolded on the bed. He got one hand resting across his stomach fingers fidgeting anxiously, the other arm his curled up above his head - hidden beneath his hair. If you had to guess those fingers are also moving.  

You breathe out a chuckle and gently squeeze his ankle in reassurance that you’re there, that you wouldn’t just leave him in such a vulnerable position. His legs aren’t bound but they’re spread as if they were, he’s large enough that both heels are resting at the bottom corners of the mattress. 

His cock is in stark contrast to his anxious hands. It’s full and heavy, arched up towards his navel. It’s already dripping precum into the full thatch of hair that trails down to its base. Whatever is going on in his mind, his body is already fully on board with your plans. 

You’re busy admiring the sight, making notes that you must do this over again but with much more silk next time, that when a hand comes to rest gently on your lower back - you jump. 

You turn your head to look at the true source of Gale’s anxiety. Astarion leans towards you, his eyes focused on Gale. 

“What a lovely sight,” he murmurs. 

Gale must have heard him because his head turns in an attempt to look in the direction he had last known Asarion to be. He realizes belatedly that there is no seeing for him currently. He reaches up instead to the headboard with the hand that had been previously tangled in his hair. The two of you watch as he rubs his fingers against the wood. It’s his own bed, one that predates you and the ilithids. 

He’s grounding himself but you realize you’ll need to start moving or he’ll lose his nerve and back out of this. Even though he’d been the one to initiate this whole thing. 

“As much as I’d like to think I’m adventurous, I must admit it is a bit unnerving not quiet knowing precisely where you both are right now. Perhaps-”

“Perhaps,” Astarion interrupts Gale, “we should consider a gag next time as well.” Despite the bite in his words, the vampire similarly wraps his fingers around Gale’s ankle. Letting him know his exact location. Gale jumps at the sensation. 

Your gaze goes unfocus as you imagine just that. It would certainly be a sight indeed. 

“Naughty thing,” Astarion teases no doubt reading your thoughts. 

You flash him an unashamed smile before kneeling on the bed between Gale’s legs. You place both hands on his thighs now, letting him know your exact intentions. 

“Is this still okay?” You ask as you begin kneading softly into the muscle of his thighs. 

He swallows before slowly nodding. “Just a bit… uncomfortable at the moment. But temporary, I’m sure,” he’s eager to assure you. 

“Well, let us… remedy that.” Astarion purrs behind you. 

You move first, blocking out the vampire behind you. The two of you had been intimate once a long time ago and while you’d rather not dwell on the circumstances of that time you aren’t as nervous around him as Gale is currently. 

Gale gasps as you finally grab his cock, it trails off into a sigh. Gently you begin to stroke him, too soft for his liking but it immediately works as a distraction. You work him like that for a moment, free hand wandering up and down his thigh. 

Once his gasps have returned, and his hips are pressing up towards your hand in an attempt to make you touch him more firmly, you lean down and take him into your mouth.

A deep groan reverberates through his chest and his hips still, but it won't last for long. You know this after months of these kinds of intimacies with Gale. The man is near incapable of being still during sex. 

Astarion’s hand has returned to your back slowly slipping lower to grab at your ass. You arch your back, pressing into him. You try and keep your focus on Gale and taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. He’s touching the back of your throat already it seems. 

The elf takes this moment to dip his hand lower, slipping two fingers between your folds. It’s a quick movement, his cold fingers brushing towards your clit and then almost instantly away. 

You moan almost gagging on Gale, your hips pressing down chasing firmer contact. Gale’s hand smacks into the wood above his head in response to the vibrations around his shaft. 

Your hand comes back up to grip him, you stroke Gale, this time the way he likes. You look over your shoulder to ineffectually glare at Astarion. He’s not at all intimidated and smirks at you boldly. His red eyes are blown wide, he’s not unaffected despite his cool demeanor. 

Still pumping Gale, who’s hips are again thrusting up into your hand, you take a moment and scan Astarion’s face and eyes. You’re searching for any signs that he’s retreated, that he’s burying himself again. 

He realizes what you’re doing and his smile softens. You only see the beginning of the nod as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s a world of difference from the last one you two shared.

You break from the kiss and without warning take Gale back into your mouth. The sound that rips from him is near enough a shout that you feel Astarion’s chuckle at your back. 

“So responsive,” he purrs loud enough for Gale to hear. You don’t have to look up to see that Gale is, without a doubt, blushing now.

You’re take Gale particularly deep again when you feel Astarion’s hand thread up into your hair at the back of your neck. You hesitate wondering if he’s going to push you down further, you find you’re not opposed to the idea. While Gale has no problem now grabbing at your hair he would never consider shoving you down on him. 

And this time, neither does Astarion. 

He does the opposite in fact. He tugs you gently upwards and you pull off of Gale with an obscene pop causing he wizard to moan loudly. 

Astarion grabs the wrist and leads it back to Gale’s cock, his other hand still pulling you away from Gale. You shift, allowing him room to lean in beside you. He’s very carefully not to touch Gale anywhere right up to the moment when it’s his mouth replacing yours. 

“A-a-astarion,” Gale stutters, the hand that was still on his stomach flutters in the air. For a second you think he might reach up for the blindfold with it but instead it drops with an audible smack onto his stomach again. 

“All good?” You ask releasing Gale and shuffling back off the edge of the bed. Astarion wastes no time settling in. 

“Better than,” Gale sighs out as Astarion begins to work him earnestly. 

It’s damn near incomprehensible, the sight before you. In spite of the issues Astarion has with his past he has no issues using that knowledge to play Gale like an instrument. Gale, it appears, has forgotten how to breathe under Astarion’s skillful mouth. 

Sure, he’s always been this reactive to you, but getting to just watch is a treat.

You’re behind Astarion now, he’s mimicked your previous position exactly. Down to his bracing his knees against Gale’s thighs to keep the man from pulling his legs shut. You continue to admire the view in front of you, suffocating the wave of rage when your eyes skate along the scars on Astarion’s back. So you focus on the curve of his spine instead, fingers delicately tracing the bones beneath the skin downward to the curve of his ass. 

Astarion ignores you for the most part but he cannot control the ripple of muscles as your fingers push slightly between. You withdraw them. You might be crazy but you’re certainly not mean. Just a bit of magic and your digits are coated in oil. 

You slip them back down, one finger presses against the tight ring as a warning. Astarion tilts his hips backwards in invitation and you slip the finger into him. You gently work your way to the goal and find the little bundle of nerves that elicits Astarion’s first unguarded moan of the night. 

“My my my,” He can’t help but tease even as he rocking back onto your finger, “what surprising knowledge this is.” He breathes these word’s directly onto the tip of Gale’s cock which is weeping freely. 

You’re amazed he’s not come already. New experiences always leave Gale feeling embarrassed about how quickly he finishes, though he’s ever the gentleman and ensures you find your own release. 

You leave your hand still, letting Astarion control the movement. “You should talk to Gale about that,” you mean to be teasing but the words come out breathlessly. 

Gale’s entire body flushes but his currently unattended cock leaps. 

You simultaneously take two chances. The first being you carefully add a second finger to press inside Astarion. The second is a mock whisper into the elf’s ear. 

“He’s so close,” you tell him. “In fact,” its an effort to keep your tone teasing, “he’s holding back right now. I’m impressed he didn’t come down your throat minutes ago.”

Gale’s mouth drops open, he’s clearly not sure how to respond. But every muscle in his body is drawn impossibly tight betraying whatever attempt at indignation he’s trying to screw up. 

Astarion see’s this too and interestingly chooses to pull Gale back into his mouth. He swallows the wizard down to his base with an ease you almost envy. He’s still rocking back onto your fingers moaning each time your fingers brush into the sensitive spot but there is no urgency there. He’s not chasing his own release with the same fervor he’s trying to guide Gale to his. 

You reach beside Astarion’s knees and drag your nails down Gale’s thighs, deeply enough the red lines raise to the surface of his skin immediately. 

It’s enough.

Gale’s back bows up off the bed as he comes. Astarion hold his hips tightly enough to keep him from causing damage to his throat but he doesn’t pull off. Instead he drinks Gale down long after you know he’s spent. He also seems to have forgotten about your fingers inside of him, his body still except for his mouth. 

Only once Gale has begun squirming away from Astarion does the vampire finally release him. He also pulls away from your fingers but the little moan as he does doesn’t escape you. 

Gale’s hands go to the blindfold but he doesn’t yet pull it off. You take pity on him and walk around the side of the bed and rest your non-oiled fingertips lightly on the silk. 

“Close your eyes,” you tell him softly. He doesn’t respond but you feel his eyelids flutter shut under your fingers and you lean over him and slide the ribbon off. He blinks lazily at you, eyes still clouded with bliss. 

Without warning Astarion grabs either side of your hips, pinning your legs to the mattress with his own. “Stay, just like that,” he orders, his normally silk voice still rough from the abuse. 

You freeze on instinct rather than any conscious desire to listen. 

His cock presses against your entrance. “Astarion,” you whine. You’d meant it as a warning. You’re already soaked from the performance you’d witnessed but you’re still apprehensive of him pressing into you. 

“Hmm,” he hums in amusement, “I do so like it when you say my name like that, both of you.” 

He moves a hand and rests his wrist on your shoulder, fingers wiggling in the air asking for something. 

It’s Gale voice that mutter’s the incantation that coat’s the elf’s fingers. You’re almost surprised that his grasp on magic has returned already. When you glance up at him again you see his eyes are sharp and watching the two of you with undivided attention. 

Astarion doesn’t press his fingers into you instead he nosily slicks his own cock. He’s doing it that way on purpose, you’re sure of it. It’s working, you feel your knees tremble as you unconsciously push your hips backwards in a shameless attempt to seek him out. 

The tip of his cock resting against your entrance for just a moment is all the warning you get before he presses into you. 

“Ahh,” you cry out as he does. 

He presses in firmly, unceasingly, until he’s bottomed out inside you. It’s uncomfortable, the stretch of him, but it’s so much more too. You find yourself pressing back again, chasing that almost butnotquiet painful feeling. He doesn’t let you, the hand that’s still on your hip is firm with a strength that only begins to betray his vampiric abilities. 

With the same steady and undeterred pace he pulls back out until he’s almost slipped from inside of you. 

And back in. And back out.

You’re head’s dropped down, forehead resting on Gale’s chest. Whimpers are punched out of you each time Astarion presses inside completely and again when he’s almost completely out. Each pass gets easier, you meet him with less resistance. You try sliding your legs apart slightly to gain ground where you can thrust back onto him, but he doesn’t let you.  It’s only when he’s slipping easily in and out of you does he let you move. The noises your bodies are making cannot be just from the oil alone you realize with a moan. You’re so wet its obscene. 

Astarion’s still slightly oiled fingers reach around to to where your still trapped against the edge of the bed. He expertly finds your clit and begins circling it with a similarly maddening pace as his thrusts. 

There’s a hand in your hair, you dimly realize it must be Gale’s because you can feel both of Astarion’s. Gale’s stroking your hair, your neck, soothingly. 

The slapping of skin on skin gets louder than the slick wet sounds of Astarion sliding in and out of you. His thrusts have gotten hard enough that your head is bouncing into Gale’s chest with each push. 

You feel more than hear Gale say something, a deep rumble through his chest. 

“She can take it,” Astarion assures him voice nearly as low as Gale’s, “can’t you?” He’s speaking to you now. 

“Yes,” you whimper thrusting your hips back into Astarion’s.

He rewards you by switching his fingers now rubbing you with intention. Your single yes becomes a mantra, you repeat the word until it no longer sounds real. 

You come with a high-pitched whine and without thought you bite Gale, sinking your teeth into the flesh of the muscle beneath your head. If he protests you don’t hear him, you don’t hear anything but the blood rushing around your body at breakneck speeds. 

You feel Astarion’s release inside you more than anything else. His cock buried to the hilt as he spills, his fingertips will certainly bruise your hips now if they didn’t before. 

Astarion is unexpectedly gentle as he slips from inside you. The touch of his hands now featherlight as he ensure you’re stable before he all but throws himself onto the bed at your side. 

You’re all still for a while, long enough that your breathing evens out. When you finally open your eyes you find that Astarion had laid so that his head is on Gale’s other arm, his eyes are closed. And Gale, Gale is softly stroking the curls that have fallen out of place around Astarion’s face. 

#Gale x reader x astarion #Astarion x Reader x Gale #bloodweave x reader #idk how many different ways to tag this guys #over 2000 words of pure filth #i do eventually need to migrate this stuff to ao3 #Gale x tab x astarion #astarion x tav x Gale #bloodweave x tav

[albertasunrise]

Look for the Light - 5

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You watched Joel from your seat beside the fire. The stone wall at your back does little to keep back the biting cold. You knew you must be close to where Tommy's last known location was and your mind started to wander as to what the plan was once you found him. Joel was so certain that his brother would lead them to the fireflies and yet believed that unlikely. The man had left them for a reason.

"You two ever going to speak again?" Ellie piped up, pulling your attention away from Joel.

"Ellie." You warned but the teenager scoffed.

"You two have barely spoken a word to each other since..." She trailed off, knowing the subject was still raw for you "You can't keep going on like this."

"I have his back when he needs it and he has mine... we don't need to speak to each other to achieve that."

"He's hurting too." Ellie pushed and you rolled your eyes at her "He is."

"Drop it, Ellie." You grumbled "Get some sleep. Early start ahead."

The teenager didn't push and you were glad of that. The two of you pulled out your blankets and settled down for the night, knowing Joel wouldn't allow either one of you to take the watch. Your eyes drifted to the man whose eyes scanned the darkened landscape, heart aching a little at the thought that he felt even a small semblance of pain to what had happened.

Little did you know, Joel was heartbroken. That day haunted his dreams and robbed him of his ability to sleep. Your tear-filled eyes and bloody hands were permanently seared into his memory, forever torturing him.

Joel fought to keep his tears at bay as he stripped away your soiled jeans. There was so much blood. He feared for your life if you lost much more. He knew that miscarriages could be dangerous when heavy bleeding was involved and this... this he felt fit those symptoms. Your skin was pale and your eyes looked sunken. Like you'd not slept in days and he supposed that to an extent, you probably hadn't.

"Is she losing the baby?" Ellie asked, her eyes wide as she watched the man throw the ruined garment away.

"Fetch me some water." He asked, knowing that the taps still worked in the abandoned motel.

"Joel-"

Just do as I ask Ellie." He snapped, voice wobbling a little as he looked at the teenager with an expression she found hard to read.

She didn't argue then. Rummaging through your pack, she grabbed one of the tins and ran to the bathroom, filling the vestibule with water before grabbing an old towel hanging beside the sink.

"Here." She said when she'd made her way back, handing the water and towel to Joel before sitting down on the bed beside you "You're okay." She said softly as she stroked the hair out of your face "Joel's gonna clean you up and then we'll move you to my bed so you can get some sleep."

"Ellie-" You choked but the girl just hushed you, cradling your head in her arms and pulling it to her chest.

Joel watched out of the corner of his eye whilst he worked to clean away the blood that painted your thighs. He was unable to stop his hands from shaking as he worked. His heart was breaking. Despite how he'd reacted when you'd told him the news, he had since come around to the idea that he was to have a baby with you.

He had started to picture what they would look like. He'd imagined another daughter. His curly brown hair and your eyes. He'd started to picture you, round with his child and how you'd glow. It was a picture that now had burned away. Disappearing in a puff of smoke. He knew you were never going to be the same after this.

And neither was he.

When he was done cleaning you up, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the room Ellie had slept in that night. He was glad you'd fallen asleep or you would have seen the bodies of Henry and Sam still laying there.

Once you were settled in the bed, he went to work burying the boys. Needing some time away from the devastation inside. Ellie had gone in search of some clothes that might fit you. Your jean were beyond saving. He knew that eventually, he'd need to speak to you about what had happened but he would wait until you were ready.

However long that was.

"Here." Said Joel as he handed you a mug, coffee steaming within.

You nodded your thanks then returned to starting at the landscape beyond, bringing the mug to your lips so you could blow on its contents. Joel lingered a moment, looking at you longingly, praying that you would spare him at least one glance but you didn't. You just sipped your twenty-year-old coffee and paid him no heed.

You had barely spoken to him at all since leaving the motel two weeks ago. He didn't push you to speak to him. Your interactions with Ellie had remained the same but with him, they had ceased completely. He was in agony. The longer you froze him out, the more his heart cracked. He was sure that if this went on much longer it would shatter completely and he would surely bleed out.

You noticed him walk away from the corner of your eye and you breathed a sigh of relief at his retreat. You weren't sure what he wanted from you. He got what he wanted. The baby was gone. Did he expect you to want to talk about it? Join him in his relief? All you wanted to do now was achieve your mission so you could be rid of him. The reminder of what you lost.

"You gonna be pissed at him forever?" Ellie asked as she plonked herself next to you.

"Maybe." You replied curtly, eyes remaining fixed ahead.

"It's not his fault you know." She stated and this grabbed your attention "You losing the baby isn't his fault."

"That's not-"

"You can't blame him for what happened." Ellie pushed and you sighed "You'll need to talk to him eventually."

"I know." You grumbled, scrapping a hand over your face before sipping at the coffee Joel had made you "I will. I just... I need some time."

"Understandable." Ellie replied, giving you a warm smile "Just don't leave it too long."

It was later that night when Ellie had fallen asleep that you had decided to break your silence. Joel was perched on a fallen tree trunk, gun in hand as he scanned the woodland that surrounded you. You sat yourself down at the other end, not wanting to be too close to him, and then you spoke.

"I can take the watch tonight." You piped up, taking Joel by surprise "You could do with some sleep."

"It's fine, you go ahead." Joel replied, shaking his head at you "Don't sleep much these days anyway."

"Joel, you can't keep going on like this." You argued and this grabbed his attention "You have to let us help you."

"You know, that's might rich of you to say." Joel grumbled, turning his body to face you "Seein' as you don't seem to want to speak to me anymore."

"Joel-"

"I know you're hurtin' and I understand but-"

"Understand?" You spat, eyes growing wide in disbelief "How could you possibly understand this?"

"I lost a child once before... remember?" He said, his voice lowered in an attempt to keep this conversation out of Ellie's ears "I understand how much you're hurtin' but you have to let me in."

"You didn't even want it." You growled, eyes cold as you stared back at him "I bet you're relieved!"

"I'm not." He growled, his face hardening at your accusation "But we both know that it was probably for the best." He continued "What sort of life could we have offered them?"

"I would have loved them." You sobbed "Nurtured them. I would have given all I had to give them a good life but that opportunity was taken away from me."

Joel stared at you with wide eyes. His heart ached to tell you that he was just as heartbroken as you. That he had hoped, after delivering Ellie to the fireflies, you and he would find somewhere to settle to raise your baby together. Instead, he watched you as you cried, hand resting on where your child had once rested and he found himself unable to say anything. You scoffed at his lack of response, cementing your belief that he was relieved you had lost the baby.

Watching you walk away, sobbing, his heart broke all over again. He had lost you once and for all.

You admired the river that carved its path through the landscape on your right. The landscape was something you'd read about in the books that had survived the apocalypse.

"Look at that river. It's crazy blue." Said Ellie as she too admired the wilderness surrounding you all "Hey, Joel... what if this is the River of Death?"

This made you a Joel pause. The words of that couple echoed in your brain as you share a look with the older man.

"What's past the river?" Ellie had asked and she had replied

"Death."

Horses whinnying, made you jump from your skin and you grabbed your gun as Joel pushed Ellie back.

"Get behind me." Joel ordered, studying their mounted foes and coming to the conclusion that fighting them wasn't an option "We ain't lookin' for any trouble. We're just passin' through."

"Drop the guns." One of them ordered and both complied, raising your hands above your head once you had "You... take five steps back."

"How 'bout we just talk this through?" Joel said calmly, desperate to placate the situation.

"How 'bout you shut the fսck up?" The man spat and you flinched at his tone, heart thumping wildly in your chest.

"Okay, easy. You'll be okay."

"You been near Infected?" The man demanded and you scoffed.

"There's no Infected out here." You piped up and the group all looked at you.

"The hell there ain't." The man replied before whistling, a dog barking then it trotted into view "Last chance for a bullet. If you've been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.

The dog sniffed at Joel's legs before moving on to you. The animal grunted when it was satisfied that neither of you was infected.

"Like I said... we'll just move on." Joel said as he looked from the dog to the man that owned it.

"Now her." He said, motioning at Ellie and Joel felt his heart start to race. Low growling echoed in his ears and yet he found himself glued to the spot. Unable to do anything but wait for what came next.

"Hi. Hi." She giggled, the dog licking her face and Joel turned to see the girl grinning at him.

The man whistled, pulling the dog back to his side and Joel felt his heart slow again. His eyes returned to the leader of the group.

"You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What are you doin' out here?"

"I'm just lookin' for my brother. That's all, nothin' more." Joel replied, his expression almost pleading.

"Hо! What's your name?" Asked a woman, pulling down the fabric that covered her face.

"Joel."

"Get them on some horses."

"But-"

"Just do it." She ordered "They're coming with us."

You mounted the horse given to you, Ellie joining you on yours as Joel gets on his own. The three of you then followed the group for a short while. Not a word was shared between anyone until you reached a set of tall wooden gates, flanked on either side by a wall just as high.

The gates opened. Revealing a bustling town that looked like it had never been touched by the tragedy that had torn the world to shreds. It reminded you of where you'd grown up. Just on the border of Canada. The wooden buildings felt familiar to you and you felt safe for the first time in years. Children laughed around you. People sang Christmas carols as they gathered around a tree that stood proudly in the square.

"TOMMY!" Joel's shouting pulled your attention away from the town and you watched the man leap from his horse and sprint towards a man you recognised as Tommy.

He didn't appear to have aged since you'd seen him last, unlike Joel.

"What the fսck you doin' here?" He asked, pulling back from his embrace with his brother to look at him better.

"I came here to save you," Joel replied, the two brothers sharing a look before he pulled him into a hug again.

The sight stirred something you'd thought long dead.

Affection.

The three of you were then led to a canteen-like space where you were served a piping hot meal and the cleanest water you'd tasted in years. Then, after Joel scorned Ellie for her manners and you'd all learned that Tommy was now married to the woman who'd brought you to town. A woman who went by the name of Maria. She then proceeded to give you a tour of the town before Maria took Ellie to the house they'd allocated them and you and Joel went to the town bar to catch up.

You weren't sure why Tommy had insisted you come. You weren't family. You suspected he hoped it would soothe over the grilling he knew he was inevitably going to receive from Joel. You knew differently.

"Been a long time." Chuckled as he stroked the polished wooden bar.

"I've never been in a bar." You teased, surprised at how relaxed you now found yourself.

"Shut up." The brothers replied in unison, making you smirk at them.

"Doesn't seem like you aged much." Joel said as he returned his attention to his brother, watching as he poured you both a glass of amber liquid.

"You, on the other hand." Tommy said, winking at you before pushing the glasses towards you and Joel "Thanks for still givin' a shit about me." He toasted, smiling at Joel before sipping his drink.

Joel's mouth formed a pouty 'O' as he looked from the glass to his brother. A silent conversation passed between the two men.

"Workin' on raisin' some hogs, too. Once we get bacon, I mean, what's even left?"

"Pshoo." Joel laughed "Christmas trees and bacon? Pretty decent setup." Joel said as he stood and walked over to the fireplace across from the bar. Studying the pictures sat on the mantle.

"So, how's Tess?" Tommy asked as his gaze flitted between you and Joel.

"She's fine. All right." Joel replied, taking you by surprise so you opted to keep your mouth shut. The man knew what he was doing.

"Good then. And the kid?" Pushed and Joel once again answered before you had a chance to open your mouth.

"Oh, yeah. She’s the daughter of some Firefly muckety-muck... Try'na find her family somewhere out here. I was headin' in this direction, so..."

"Really? Goodness of your heart?" Tommy scoffed, his gaze drifting to you.

"There's a payment." You replied, watching as his eyes squinted at you. "So you know where they might be? These Fireflies?" You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

"Well, they got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado. It's, uh, a week's ride south. But it is severely fսckеd up between here and there. Infected... raiders." Tommy stated, his gaze returning to his brother "It’s not exactly an easy trip."

"It’ll be easy for us, seeing as how you can headshot Infected from half a mile away, which is a bunch of bullshit, by the way." You chuckled at Joel's statement, remembering how good a shot Tommy had been back in the day.

"Yeah, I can’t go."

"Oh, come on." You chuckled, sure that Tommy was having you both on. "I made it across the country."

"The two of us can make it from here to Colorado." Joel pushed, brows pulled together as he studied his brother's boy language closely. "What, ’cause your wife won’t let you?"

"They’re good people." Tommy argued "They didn’t have to take me in, but they did. And all they ask is that I follow their rules."

"I’m your brother." Joel growled, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah, I’m aware." Tommy scoffed "They’re very protective of this place, and for good fuckin’ reason." The younger man continued, sipping his drink again "I mean, folks find out we’re up here…"

"No, we heard." Joel interrupted and Tommy sighed.

"Wrong people might show up."

"So is that what we are? Are we the wrong people?" He asked, motioning between you and him.

"Joel…"

"Those things I did, Tommy, those things that you judge me for, I did those things to keep us alive." Joel spat, edging closer to his sibling.

"We did those things." Tommy snarled "And they weren’t 'things.' We murdered people... And I don’t judge you for it." Tommy paused, letting out a sigh as he looked between you and Joel "We survived the only way we knew how. But there were other ways..." He trailed off "We just weren’t any good at ’em."

"If you knew the shit that we've been through... Tommy, tryin’ to find you these last few months…"

"I’m gonna be a father."

This news hit you like a freight train.

You saw Joel glance at you. Felt his eyes on you as you started down into your drink. Desperately trying to keep yourself together.

"Maria’s a few months along now." Tommy continued, smiling as he played with the glass in his hands "So I just gotta be more careful..." He paused, glancing at you and Joel "To be honest, I’m scared to death. But I don’t know. Uh… I feel like I’d be a good dad."

A pregnant pause hung over you all. Joel looked at you before returning his attention to his drink. Downing the last of it before speaking.

"Guess we’ll find out." He said as he poured himself a drink.

“I guess we’ll find out?" Tommy spat, angry at his brother's response "That’s all you got?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" The older man asked, looking at his brother who was now squared up to him.

"Just because life stopped for you… doesn’t mean it has to stop for me." Tommy snarled and you swear you could hear Joel's heart shatter.

With tearful eyes, he glanced at you before downing his drink and grabbing his coat.

"We’ll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin’."

You watched Joel leave. Tommy called after him before slamming his hand on the counter of the bar.

"We lost a baby." You said numbly, grabbing Tommy's attention.

"What?"

"Joel and I... We found out three months ago that I was pregnant." You replied, eyes locking with the man's as you continued "We lost it after escaping from Kansas City."

"Shit I'm-"

"I'm happy for you Tommy." You continued "But don't expect us to be jumping for joy."

You finished your drink and then grabbed your coat, wanting to be out of this place as soon as possible.

"I'm sorry you lost your baby." Tommy piped up, stopping you in your tracks "But life goes on. You can't live your life bitter because other people have what it is you want... It'll poison you."

You didn't reply. You simply left, your tears streaming by the time you stepped outside.

You managed to find the house Maria and Tommy had told you about. You'd decided to take a walk on your own for a few hours and before you'd realised, the sun had set and the town was now blanketed in the soft yellow light. Stepping inside you could hear talking coming from upstairs.

"I’m not her, you know?" Ellie said as you came to a stop outside her room "Maria told me about Sarah and…"

"Don’t." Joel warned, his voice low "Don’t say another word."

"I-I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel." Ellie pushed on, ignoring the man's warning "But I have lost people, too."

"You have no idea what loss is." Joel growled, his tone making you shiver.

"Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me." Ellie spat "Everybody, fucking except for you!" She yelled "So don’t tell me that I’d be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared."

"You’re right." Joel piped up after a short pause "You’re not my daughter and I sure as hell ain’t your dad..." He paused a moment, and you wondered where he was going with this. Your question was soon answered.

"Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways." You felt your blood boil.

You didn't even flinch when he opened the door to see you standing on the other side. The two of you then just glared at each other before you stormed off, leaving a frustrated Joel in your wake.

The words his brother had spoken to him less than an hour earlier after he'd pleaded for the man to take Ellie still swirled around in his head.

"I know you lost another child Joel... and for that Brother I am sorry but you can't keep shutting her out. I know you're grieving... Don't bottle it up."

Making his way downstairs, he placed himself down on the couch and threw his head into his hands. Memories of Sarah flashed in his mind. Of him decorating the tree with her. Making Christmas cookies to hand from its branches. Not that many made it onto the tree.

His mind then drifted to you. How he could have shared that with you one day. How he still wanted to. He knew he had to make things right with you.

He just wasn't sure how.

Next

Taglist form

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #joel miller gif #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #Blaze #Close notes #20 #28 #294 #Oldest first

[pip-n-chips]

How about being Harper's favourite fucking menace though? Fighting everything he does tooth and nail, in a straightjacket every night, getting other patients to distract the orderlies so you can beat his ass... No matter what he does, it doesn't break down your spirit. It's infuriating, he just can't get his hands on you. he might have to use more... sinister methods...

YES YES AND YES!! also this didn't go in the direction I planned it to go, but here's something for you regardless

Harper absentmindedly drums his fingers against the wooden desk as he looks through patient files, the room filled with silence aside from the occasional clicking of his computer mouse. His fingers halt upon reaching your name.

Harper considers himself a patient man, and in his line of work it's absolutely crucial to be. But even the best of men lose their patience, and his is running very, very thin.

His eye twitches.

The reason?

You.

(continued under the cut)

You you you, of course it's you. He's dealt with patients in the past who didn't, ah,, favor his methods, but he's never met anyone quite like you before.

You're always resisting, always fighting. You just don't know when to quit, to give in, and it drives him mad. If you were anyone else, he would have accepted the loss and sent you over to Remy's, made you their problem, but no.

He couldn't. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't.

Because something about you draws him in; he wants to study you, get inside your head. He wants to fix you. He's not meant to be the bad guy in your story, why can't you see it? He can help you, he can make you feel all better, but you can't fucking see it yet.

Harper leans back in his chair and takes off his glasses to drag a hand over his face, frustrated. His attention shifts to the familiar tightness in his pants, and he glances down at his crotch.

He can't deny the effect you have on him, however.

Every snarky comment, every demand. Every kick and every scream. Everytime you shake yourself out of the trance he put you in, everytime you deny deny deny...

Oh,

you sweet little thing.

You must think it's wearing him down, bit by bit, but you'd be such a fool to think so. All it does is make him want you more and more and more. He can't lie and say a part of him doesn't like how you've been fighting him, because you give him a challenge. You give him a kind of thrill he's never felt before.

God, you're such a tease.

He wants to tame the untameable, cure the incurable. You are the mouse to his cat, and he wants to chase you down and show you what he can really do. And once he has you in his grip, he's never, ever going to let you go.

The tightness is almost unbearable now. Harper's belt clinks as he hastily removes it and unzips his fly. His cock is soon in his hand, the tip already dribbling with precum. He shakily lets out the breath he's been holding onto as he starts to stroke.

How do you tame a mouse? Do you give it cheese? What would be your cheese? Do you trap it? Maybe he should toss you into the quiet room again- but ah. Last time he left you there for too long, he saw you back in town after a while of searching here. He still hasn't figured out how you managed to get past security. Or the cameras. What a sneaky little bastard, you are.

He loves it.

Maybe he should throw you in a rigged maze, one you can never solve. One you can never escape. It'd wear you down until you come to him begging. But would you even ask for help? Maybe he could deprive you of everything except the basic necessities until you're forced accept his help, it'd teach you to be humble. You fight so much to maintain your broken yet incredible mind, so he couldn't imagine you giving up completely.

His breath quickens as he lets his thoughts run wild, the room filling up with his desperate grunts and the slick sound of skin rubbing against skin as he gets more and more aroused.

That could work, and he has a separate property in mind to keep you. Well- technically Remy owns it, but it's been unused for a while, and he's sure he could pull some strings to make it work. He's going to make sure he's all you see, all you feel. You'll be so starved for any type of interaction, you'll practically be begging for his cock inside you- any hole of his choosing. He'll drug and tie you up so you can't fight anymore, and you'll finally see just how much he can help you. How much you need him, and how much he needs-

Harper suddenly convulses, thick ropes of semen spurting from his cock, splattering on his desk. He sinks into his chair, panting, waiting for his mind to clear.

Only you could get him so hot and bothered like this. Only you can give him this kind of reaction. You must be doing this on purpose, this must be your plan. To rile him up, to tempt him. The way you fight, the way you look at him... You're asking for it, surely- It's all a cry for attention. You're playing games with him, hoping you'll lose. You just don't want to admit it, because if you did, you'd have to face the truth. And you and him both know that you prefer your little lies.

How could someone so strong be so cowardly?

Harper reaches into a drawer for wipes and begins to clean up the mess resulting from,, his activities. He thought he got all of it, but upon looking up he sees some managed to land on the computer screen, right on the image of your face.

Would you look at that...

A low chuckle escapes past his lips as he leans forward. His breath his hot against his face as he caresses your image and wipes it clean with his thumb. He wonders what it would be like, cumming on you like this. (You'd hate it with a burning passion, but he'll teach you to love it. Just like how he'll teach you to love him.)

He's itching to find out, but he can wait.

It won't be too long now, anyway.

(Not long at all...)

If you want to keep playing your little games of fighting and denying and teasing and pretending- then that's fine!

He'll play too.

It'll just make his prize upon winning that much sweeter.

#degrees of lewdity #dol #harper the doctor #dol harper #ask #thirsty #pippywrites

[onestepbackwards]

Imagine how different the Sinnoh storyline would be if self aware Cyllene, Kamado, Volo and Cogita kept a journal and it was passed down until their descendents have it. I'd imagine Cyrus reading about cyllene's life and starts looking for the player rather than go through the extra steps of finding the lake trio, getting the red chain and summoning gods on a random mountain to make a wish. I can't imagine what Rowan would think of kamado's paranoid rantings about the main character and us (although i spent hours just feeding random wildlife).

Hdksjdkd imagine if like, some of them had pictures of the Hero saved and kept in those journals too. How the Hero fell from the sky, and claimed to be from a future where pokemon and humans work and live together.

How they talk about things, such a ‘tee-vees’, or ‘microwaves’.

Rowan finds the book when digging through some old stuff in his attic. He ends up flipping through it, and catching a picture that falls out of someone.

After some investigation, Rowan declares his ancestor must have been hit in the head to be obsessed with someone and so paranoid. Though he does pity the man for losing his village as a kid, he wonders if that event caused too much stress for the man.

He does find some ideas interesting though, and decides to look into Sinnoh’s history later.

Imagine his surprise when he later sees someone who looks like a carbon copy of the person in the journals, and how well they use a starter pokemon.

Rowan decides then and there is fate is real, he will do what he can and give this person a pokemon. Especially since they seem to get along so well with the partner they choose. They’ll definitely need the experience…

Meanwhile, in an alternate timeline, Cyrus finds the well kept journal of his ancestor Cyllene when collecting things from his family’s old home that was left behind after a move.

As much as he dislikes the memories, he remembered a few journals he saw as a kid he wanted to find. Thankfully, they were left behind as junk in the attic.

He flips through them, curious if he remembered correctly how bizarre they were. Stories of people falling from the sky, and time travel, to literal pokemon gods.

At first, it sounds like crazy talk. If it wasnt for the clear cur way his ancestor wrote her journal, he’d have waved it off.

Until things such as planes and cars are mentioned. Some of those things specifically not having existed yet in that period of time. His interest is piqued.

Were they not ramblings of someone who lost their mind to stress after all?

Cyrus then comes across photos delicately sewn into the pages to help preserve them. His ancestor sitting with someone.

That would seem normal, though his eyes widen just a fraction when he sees several legendary pokemon behind them in some photos, like they are having a picnic of some sort with a few other people.

The same person besides Cyllene pops up though, labeled with a name, how they are from the future.

Cyrus then takes note how this Hero mentions how they battled someone named Cynthia. A name he is well familiar with.

Packing the journal into a case he brought with him, he decides then and there to change the course of action.

He would hold off on finding Giratina. That would be a plan he’s keep on a back burning if things didn’t work out.

Instead, he decides to search for you.

#pokemon #pla #cyrus #cyllene #professor rowan #kamado #ask #anon #zed.talks

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 3

Prompts: Angst / Kai Recs! *aka the best combo ahahaaaa*

Angst Recs (get ready for a lot of Wu being sad):

The Tale of the Teacher: BASICALLY a look at Wu's very tragic life through the eyes of Wu himself, and my personal inspiration for all things, well, Wu and tragic (and you do need to be logged into an Ao3 account for this one). A must-read for all Wu fans, and especially for those who are not~

Photographs: Wu reminiscences on all he's lost in the midst of Season 11 through pictures of times gone by~

No Eye For These: Wu reflects on losing his brother, right after just banishing him ;w;

It Will Rain Again Someday: Not necessarily angst but fills me with enough emotional damage to feel like it is, Wu adores his older brother so so so so much, even when they butt heads, even when they have opposing but equal opinions, even when they're on opposite sides of the battle field...probably the most potent Spinjitzu Brothers thing I've ever read. Changed my brain chemistry, man.

for want (for nothing): the staff corrupted!kai story that speaks to me very specifically snksnksnk Reading the gradually (or not so gradually) descent into enveloping himself in all that power is maddening and awesome and so very painful

Cry Me a River: Kai Post-Seabound; short, bitter, visceral, and powerful in the deliverance of emotions~

Married to the Sea: In case anyone wanted to relieve the pain that is Seabound's ending again, but with a Jay-colored coat of paint <3

half hearted-boy, maybe we'll have more connection: GUT-WRENCHING thing on parallels b/w Lloyd and Harumi. I am not the same person i was before. Tragedy does not have an age limit.

Kai Recs:

All I've Ever Known: One of the best kind of fics- Kai having to cope with team bonding during the events of the pilots <3(I have very obvious tastes). But! Has a lot of introspective Kai moments and outrospective (?) moments with him and the future team he's one day never going to imagine a time without.

Spice, and Everything Nice: Kai, in both a show of brotherly love and brotherly pride, attempts to outdo his siblings in a test of all things spice and chocolate. It's just so cute aaaaaaa!!!!

Bonfire: Lloyd wants to make a fire, Zane tries to offer suggestions, and Kai makes it personal. Slice of Life fic that would have made for a nice little episode during Season 2, honestly! And a nice look at the characters outside of their normally hectic settings~

Flicker: A story about Kai and the warmth he brings to himself and others, doesn't seem like much at first but you will be gutpunched by love and softness by the end~

Bucket List: In the category of angst and Kai with probably a guilty pleasure fic of mine, Kai strikes a deal with Morro and a horrifying journey of self-discovery ensues. It get a little dark but it's funny, gripping, heart-wrenching, and will probably have you looking at Kai in a new light by the end of it.

N Stands for Neutral: Kai teaches Lloyd to drive, chaos ensues, nuff said

Why Birds Fly: Probably not for the squeamish around eggs, insects, or ear-related agony (it's not nearly as bad as I'm making it sound I promise just being cautious) BUT another non-life-threatening crisis story that has an amazing dynamic between Kai, Cole and Jay, and their tendency to be both the best brothers you could ask for and the absolute worst.

The Process of Making Amends: Kai and Garmadon butting head and it's goes about as well as you'd expect....but, there is one thing they can reach a consensus on.

Going, Going, Gone: Vintage Classic on kai's take on Skylor throughout Season 4. Definitely Kailor, but also not exactly "shippy". It really is more of a character examination in the form of lil snippets and it lives in my mind rent-free.

From What It Was: Kai reflects on all the changes in the team post-s7. It makes me misty-eyed every time ;w;

Kai and the Futile Fist Fight: Anyone wanna see Kai and Jay have a real fight during Crystalized, with 50% more awesome fight moves and 50% more raw emotion and 100% more Kai being distressed over his sister in his own way? Here ya go!

"Mr. Smith" At Your Service: Kai pretends to be Nya's father. Nya gets far too much of a kick out of it, and it goes about a well as you'd expect snksnksnk

broken pieces: More Pilots!ninja bonding, short and sweet and ofc with a special focus on Kai! Left a very big impression on me, haha

this isn't how it's supposed to be: MOAR PILOT BONDINGGGGGGG and UNGH it's so BEAUTIFUL, especially love the character dialogue in this one!

#ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #tlnm #ninjago fic rec week #ninjago fanfiction #fic recs #kai smith #angst #long post #tell me if i junked up a link i was going rlly fast cuz i gotta leave again lmao #I’ve got plenty more pain fics on deck hnng

[riseofamoonycake]

Hi, I'm new to this (I don't use Tumblr often,) but I'd like to request a short scenario (SFW) about the reader (female reader) who loses her dog in Valhalla, she eventually winds up finding the dog in the arena where Leonidas and the Spartans train and once she finds her dog, the dog is so happy to see her that it almost knocks her over, causing her to accidentally crash into an unsuspecting Leonidas and the reader gets all flustered because she realizes that oh no, Leonidas is really hot.

AAAAAAAA CUTEEEE! I really enjoyed this! *^*

«Daisy! Daisy!! Come on, big girl, come back here!

Hours have passed since you have been running like a mad woman through the entire Valhalla, yet you don’t feel tired, just worried. You still can’t explain what suddenly pushed your playful adventure companion to run away so desperately and disappear from your sight, but now you are the desperate one. And to think that the day had started in the best way, with one of the most peaceful and bright mornings you have ever seen!

«Come on, come back! Here, Daisy! Daisy!! Daisyyyy!!!!»

By now you have lost count of the people you have met on the road and from whom you have asked for help, for an indication, if they had seen your four-legged friend pass by and where it went; some gave you information, some failed, and some didn��t even look at you. You must have traveled dozens of kilometers by now, yet not even a trace of Daisy. But where could it have gone?

You start to scream its name again, then your voice comes out hoarse and you burst into sobs, hiding your face in your hands and trembling as you abandon yourself to uncontrollable crying. Ever since you almost lost it once, the moment your mortal life ended and you found yourself here alone, and after a few moments you saw it next to you, the terror of being separated from it once again has always stayed with you and now it has become more than real; and you can’t even think clearly anymore, only feeling confusion and black  sadness, and feeling your whole body being affected.

«Daisy, please… don’t leave me alone», you murmur as you start walking again, disheartened, and you don’t even look where you are going; so much so that after some time you almost collide with a large stone structure, and this forces you to look up. Clang of weapons and screams of men comes from within, and you recognize one of the arenas in which warriors of all times and places continue to train and exercise; and you are about to walk away, when from one of the entrances you glimpse the flickering of a tail and you stop, eyes widening, and you approach.

In the heart of the arena, surrounded by the men who play with it, jubilant and amused by all that attention, Daisy jumps on the warriors and bites the pieces of cloth with which they engage in an innocent battle with it, always emerging victorious and licking, as a sign of apology, the face of the opponent it beat; and you remain contemplating the scene for a few moments, amazed, and then burst into the arena without paying the slightest attention to the size of the men surrounding you or the weapons passing a few centimeters from your head, the eyes full of tears, but now of relief. «Daisy! Little one, here you are! I looked for you for hours, thank goodness you are okay!»

The dog turns suddenly at the sound of your voice, then rushes to you barking and jumps on you, welcoming you with joy; you hold it in your arms, however its impetus is so intense and the weight notable that you can’t help but step back and almost fall… if it weren’t for the sudden obstacle that comes between you and the ground, and stops you.

«Oops! Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I…» You turn to apologize properly to the man you bumped into, then you stop: in front of you stands the most imposing warrior you have ever imagined, his gaze severe and his eyebrows raised in a expression of surprise as he pulls a cigar away from his mouth and stares at you, and your blood freezes in the veins as your mind immediately recognizes it. And who wouldn’t? Everyone in Valhalla knows Leonidas, the indomitable king of Sparta!

«Hmm? A woman in the arena? And where did you come from, little chaffinch?», exclaims the warrior, taking another puff from his cigar and staring at your figure from head to toe, and also at Daisy, that is also quiet. «Oh, I see, the dog that came to visit us is yours, then?»

You hesitate to answer, continuing to stare at Leonidas’ enormous and strong body without even saying a word, and you only realize that you are blushing badly when the king gives you a questioning look and you move your eyes from the abs that the shirt reveals. «Something wrong? You hurt yourself, huh? Come on, say something!»

You step back, looking for something to say, then giggle in embarrassment and notice that you have even started to sweat. «No, no, I’m fine… we’re fine… we’re leaving now, sorry to bother you!», you babble in a few seconds, then put Daisy on the ground and start running with it, trying to get away from there before your already bad show becomes even worse, and you try not to hear the sound of Leonidas’ powerful laughter behind you.

You run and run, also helped by Daisy that doesn’t stop until it reaches a flowery meadow and throws itself into it, rolling among the daisies and waiting for you to do the same, then you stop under a tree and breathe. What a day, you think to yourself, taking a deep breath…

… Certainly not one of the worst, all things considered, you finish with a half smile.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror #snv #record of ragnarok leonidas #snv king leonidas #leonidas record of ragnarok #ror leonidas #snv leonidas #king leonidas #leonidas ror #leonidas snv

[drarrily-we-row-along]

11. Barefoot

Harry'd never seen Draco with a single hair, a single button out of place.

It was fucking hot, if Harry was being honest, which why wouldn't he be? At least in the privacy of his own head.

Draco was always posh, always pristine; tailored robes and tailored suits, shoes always shined, platinum hair in a perfectly coiffed undercut. It drove Harry wild; desperate to muss him up a bit.

And nothing. Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently seeing.

Draco Malfoy was standing by the pool, a strand of (silky, soft) hair hanging over his eye, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his (ridiculously toned) chest, his linen trousers rolled up to expose his (unfairly delicate) ankles. And he was barefoot.

Godric. Harry didn't have a thing for feet but something about seeing Draco's made him want to fall to the ground at his feet and never move. They were very pretty, honestly; delicate, long, slender, with graceful high arches. And it made him look strangely vulnerable.

Harry ached with it.

"Potter," Draco said, long fingers snapping at him.

His eyes snapped up to Draco's face to find the other man smiling at him in that peculiar way he did sometimes. All exasperated fondness, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Mmm?" he managed inelegantly.

"How drunk are you? It's like you were staring through me into all of time and space," he chuckled as he planted himself beside Harry on the edge of the pool and dipped his feet into the water.

(read more below the cut)

"Very," Harry lied because he couldn't very well admit that he'd just been staring longingly at Draco's feet.

Draco tilted his head toward the drink in Harry's hand, "What do you spike sparkling water with?"

Harry blinked over at him, he always forgot how bloody observant the other man was. "Vodka," he lied quickly.

The corner of Draco's mouth curved up and he took a breath but then seemed to think better of it. "Everyone's around the fire pit," he commented.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Except you."

He hummed, not sure what response Draco was looking for from him.

"And me," he added.

Harry turned his head so he could look at him properly.

"Are you actually drunk, Harry?"

He swallowed, wondering what his answer should be, wondering what Draco wanted him to say. "Why?" is what came out of his mouth a few seconds later.

"Because you're even more forthcoming when you're drunk than usual."

It was his turn to smile at the other man, "What are you hoping I'll say?"

Draco stared at him for a long moment before wrapping his lips around the mouth of his beer bottle and finishing it in one long pull.

He couldn't help but watch the way his neck muscles worked as he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. The urge to lean in, to lick, to suck, to nibble on the other man's long neck was almost overpowering.

Then, when he'd finished his beer he stood up and Harry shifted back on his hands so he could see what he was doing.

Draco's fingers went to the buttons on his shirt and Harry's mouth went dry, his own fingers tingling with desire. He made quick work of them before pulling his shirt off, and Harry was met with the sight of a lightly muscled chest, and two petal pink nipples. Harry's mouth had dropped open but he didn't really think there was anything he could possibly do to stop it.

When he finally managed to draw his eyes upward, Draco was smirking at him, one eyebrow raised. "I'm going to go for a swim," he said, and his hands moved to his trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping before hooking his thumbs in the waistband and pulling them off. He stood there for one moment, in nothing but a pair of very tight boxers that left little to the imagination, before saying, "join me?" and jumping into the pool.

Harry sat there stunned, uncertain if he was hallucinating (it wouldn't be the first time he'd accidentally eaten a hallucinogen at Luna's), and feeling like he must be losing his entire mind.

But what a way to go, he couldn't help but think as Draco resurfaced and finger combed his hair back out of his eyes. He watched as a drop of water rolled down his high cheek bone, then down his neck, sluicing along his clavicle, before dripping into the pool. He tread water and stared at Harry, waiting.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

A look of hurt flashed in his eyes before he covered it, so quickly that if Harry hadn't spent decades of his life watching Draco, he would have missed it.

"I mean," he swallowed, might as well at this point, "you're not just fucking with me?"

"How would this be fucking with you?" Draco asked, spreading his arms wide.

He pulled his shirt off over his head and stood to yank down his shorts before jumping in after Draco. When he popped his head back above the water, Draco was only a few feet away, watching him with a little smile at the corner of his mouth. "You should know," he said conversationally, "that I am not a terribly good swimmer."

Draco was at his side a heartbeat later, hands bracketing Harry's ribs as he buoyed him to the surface a bit, treading and keeping himself afloat with only his legs. "I'm a very good swimmer," he murmured, his voice low and a bit rough.

"Tell me why we're swimming together," he blurted.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, head tilting to the side like he was really trying to understand the puzzle that Harry was.

"Not to me," he replied.

Draco re-angled his body a bit and pushed Harry backward, swimming until Harry's back hit the side of the pool and then pressing their bodies together. "Luna had a drink," he said.

Harry, whose head was very much elsewhere, attempting to catalogue the hard planes of Draco's body pressed against his own, made a vague "Oh?" sound.

He nodded, "Had a bit of felix in it, apparently."

"And-" Harry started, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Draco to continue.

"It led me to you," he murmured. "And honestly?"

He nodded, trying not to let his mind race to improbable conclusions.

"I've fancied you for ages."

"You have?" he blurted, looking between Draco's eyes, trying to discern any semblance of an untruth.

"I have," he murmured, bending forward so that his lips brushed over Harry's jaw. "The only question is whether you feel the same."

"How is that a question?" he asked, tipping his head back to allow Draco's mouth to brush tantalizingly over his skin. "Of course I do."

"Do you?" he asked, voice just a little afraid, "or is it the alcohol?"

"I'm not drunk," he said, cupping Draco's cheek and drawing him back far enough that they could look at each other. "I had one beer, two hours ago."

"So it wouldn't be taking advantage if I kissed you?"

Harry didn't think, didn't say another word, he just wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and pulled him in closer so their lips could touch.

The other man's body surged against his, kissing him deep and slow in a way that made Harry feel like he was floating through the universe, the only thing tethering him was the hard wall of the pool against his back.

Merlin only knew how long they might have gone on kissing if it weren't for the sound of merrymakers coming up from the fire pit. But as it was, Draco pulled back and said, "I really don't particularly want to see anyone else."

"Me either," he replied, glancing over his shoulder.

"Come back to mine?" he offered. "We don't have to-"

He leaned in and kissed him again, giddy with the possibility of more time together, of more kisses. "Yes," he murmured against Draco's lips. "Let's just figure out the rest once we get there."

"You're sure?"

Harry laughed, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

And it wasn't until the sun was peaking through the blinds in Draco's living room the next morning that either of them remembered they'd left their clothes lying on the deck by the pool.

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

Read more of my gentle July ficlets

#listen. I know these were supposed to be done in July but (insert shrug emoji here) #is this one out of order? also yes. #my summer got a little bit blown up #and the author is practicing being kind to herself so she's not going to apologize. life is a lot sometimes and i am small. #drarry #love #soft #Harry is besotted #i don't make the rules #fluff #harry is thirsty and not for water #pool #confident draco #yes.