#< my shitty excuse for taking a while to do these

[demigod-shenanigans]

Late Night Cocoa and other Remedies

Summary: Leo was totally fine, in case anyone was wondering.

Fine with the nightmares that had been getting worse since they got back home.

Fine with the fact that Jason’s place at Camp Jupiter, having been built for one person, only had a single bed.

They were just staying for a week. Leo could completely platonically share a bed with his best friend for a few days.

Sure, their shoulders kept brushing. Maybe Leo wasn’t even sure how he’d make it through the first night with the heart palpitations that was giving him—never mind a whole week. But he’d figure it out.

It was fine.

In retrospect, he really should have accounted for his habit of clinging to things when he had bad dreams

Word Count: ~5.5k

Rating: Teen and Up

Another Valgrace fanfic repost from my Ao3 that takes place in the same universe as this one. This time, we’ve got angst, more pining and lots of hurt/comfort. Also quite possibly some kissing ;)

CW for references to Leo’s canon foster care abuse, nothing super in-depth or graphic but as per usual my rule of thumb with this stuff is better safe than sorry.

———

Leo was totally fine, in case anyone was wondering.

Sure, his nightmares had been getting worse since they’d gotten back to camp, like the brain equivalent of adrenaline draining out of his body after a fight, leaving him aching all over.

Hey, you lived, congrats! Now, remember all that pesky trauma you’ve been ignoring?

Nightmares were a normal thing that every demigod experienced. The last few months had been a lot. The gods liked to give you shitty doomsday visions whenever they got the chance. And sure, those dreams sucked, but excitingly, Leo also had plenty of memories from before that time to have nightmares about. Now that he no longer needed to have prophetic nightmares about Gaia, he got to have dreams about all the other shit that had happened to him, plus a little extra trauma he’d collected on the journey. Wasn’t that exciting?

He was fine, though. It wasn’t anything he’d never dealt with before. It helped when he had ways to keep himself busy.

For this reason, among other things, Leo had been glad that Jason had asked him to go along on a trip to Camp Jupiter. It made for a welcome distraction—those were harder to come by than Leo wished, with everyone insisting they “rest up” and “take a while to recover” after their several week trip on the Argo II. It also made for a great excuse to spend some alone time with Jason.

Technically, their visit to Camp Jupiter was about the Temple Hill renovations Jason had been planning since they’d gotten back to camp, along with the new shrines at Camp Half-Blood. When he wasn’t talking over details with Annabeth, he’d been rambling about it to Leo a lot. It was obvious how passionate he was about it. He had sketches and a model made out of old monopoly houses and everything. It was cute.

Leo wasn’t exactly needed for Jason to present his first draft to the Roman demigods. But Jason had been nervous, and he hadn’t seemed to like the thought of leaving Leo—aftereffects of him blowing himself up to save the world, apparently, despite the fact that it had been two months. And, well, it wasn’t like Leo had anything better to do, so they’d taken Festus on a little cross-country road trip.

The trip itself had been shockingly uneventful by their standards. Sure, there’d been the occasional monster, but compared to their trip to Greece, Leo was pretty sure that almost counted as a vacation.

Their arrival at Camp Jupiter, however, came with a whole host of new and exciting problems.

For one, being the guy who’d fired on their Camp a few months prior, Leo wasn’t exactly popular. He didn’t blame the Roman demigods for being distrustful of him—getting possessed sounded like a stupid excuse even to Leo, and he was the one it had happened to.

Jason got very defensive about it, considering Leo’s whole dramatic sacrifice and everything. After one especially mean comment, there’d been some ominous electrical crackling from his direction, and Leo had had to drag him off before they caused another incident, proving the guy’s point by getting him struck by lightning or something equally unfortunate.

This actually wasn’t the main problem. Leo had mostly been expecting it. Besides, he hadn’t exactly been popular in most places he’d lived, neither at school nor with his foster parents, so it wasn’t like this was a novel experience for him. He was pretty used to it.

The bigger problem was Jason, who, seeing as Leo getting glared at in the barracks wasn’t a feasible living situation, had asked Leo to stay at his place. A place that, as it had specifically been designed for Jason and his new role—high priest, or whatever it was, Leo could never remember the exact title—had been built for exactly one person.

This was Jason’s first proper visit to Camp Jupiter since the war had ended, so he hadn’t been to his new place before. The furniture was bare-bones, just the necessities, picked out by someone who wasn’t Jason. Meaning: no couch, and exactly one bed.

The living room came with two armchairs, which were decently cozy, but even Leo wasn’t short enough to use them for a bed. He’d need both legs detachable instead of just one for that to work, and even then it’d be a tight fit.

So that left them with just the bed.

And sure, they’d slept around each other before, shared a tent or a campfire, but that wasn’t the same as sharing a bed. Bed sharing wasn’t something Leo had ever done with anyone except his mom and Piper, who was basically his sister and therefore didn’t count.

Sharing a bed with Jason… that was different.

Leo had offered to spend the week sleeping on the floor, because he’d slept in less comfortable places than wooden floors in a heated building, but then Jason had said he sometimes found himself a nice bush to sleep in when he got anxious and he could just do that, which… yeah, okay, even Leo had realized at that point that they were both being ridiculous. Sometimes he really did wonder why Piper put up with either of them.

Anyway, they’d decided to stop being idiots and just share the bed, so now Leo was awake at one in the morning, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore Jason dozing quietly next to him and the way their shoulders were brushing.

Jason ran a little colder than he did, which Leo had never noticed before, but now he could barely resist the urge to hold a hand to Jason’s cheek to warm him up, and maybe keep it there. Maybe just lean in, and… yeah, no, absolutely not.

Leo really shouldn’t spend extended periods of time thinking about any of this, because if he did, his brain would kick into overdrive again, and if he let it… well, the top ten things of what not to do when you were hopelessly in love with your best friend probably included accidentally lighting his bedsheets on fire.

He wasn’t even noticing the fact that their hands were almost touching.

Jason didn’t seem to mind lying next to Leo at all. The second they’d flopped down on the mattress, he’d been out cold. And here Leo was, still awake, fighting the heart palpitations that Jason‘s peaceful smile gave him. How Leo was supposed to make it all the way to the end of the week when this would be a nightly thing, he had no idea.

This was no fair. Leo hadn’t cheated fate only for his bisexuality to kill him.

He turned his back to Jason, facing the wall. It was impossible to ignore he was there, even when Leo wasn’t looking, because no matter which way he turned, they were always touching. Leo had tried, but the bed just wasn’t big enough to avoid it completely. His skin prickled. He was used to having disastrous crushes—to falling hard and flat on his face. But he’d never been so close to one of them before—physically and emotionally speaking. He wasn’t sure what to do with that.

Not that the falling flat on his face-part couldn’t still happen. Jason had seen him do a lot of stupid shit. That wouldn’t even make the top three.

It felt impossible that Leo fell asleep under these circumstances, but at some point, he did. Maybe it was the exhaustion from traveling here. Maybe, despite feeling like a live wire every time Jason got too close, the backdrop of his steady breaths was actually calming.

Whatever it was, at some point throughout the night, Leo did fall asleep. Inevitably, the nightmares came, as they always fucking did.

~~~~~~~

It was Teresa this time, yelling at him after he’d gotten another bad report card. Grabbing his shoulders too hard. Leo should have run sooner than he did, but it had been the early days, right after his mom died, and he hadn’t figured out running was an option yet. Instead, he just froze and curled up and tapped “I love you” into the carpet until his fingers hurt, waiting for his mom to tap back from wherever she was. She never did. She couldn’t.

Teresa yelled at him to stop fidgeting, stop making noise. Told him that it was no wonder his relatives hadn’t wanted to put up with him, and he should be so grateful that she did, but her patience was wearing thin. One more mistake, one more step out of her perfect lines…

His face hurt. There was more yelling.

The dream dissolved into something completely incoherent after this, just vague images. Then suddenly he was alone, swallowed by darkness or maybe the earth. Breathing hurt. The yelling was still there, further away now, but it wasn’t Teresa’s voice anymore.

“Leo? Leo!”

Someone was shaking his shoulders.

~~~~~~~

Leo startled awake with a gasp and an embarrassing wet sound. Someone really was shaking him. The room around him was dark, which was just a little bit too close to the dream for comfort.

It took a moment for Leo‘s soul to return to his trembling body, and even longer for his brain to process what was going on. His head was buried in something that felt just cool enough to be soothing. His hands were clutching soft fabric way too tightly.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re safe.”

Jason’s voice, so close that it must’ve been right in his ear.

Right. Jason. Camp Jupiter. No fucking Teresa. This was ridiculous. Leo had almost gotten killed by monsters countless times in the last year. He’d died. It seemed incredibly stupid that, after all this, he’d get worked up over some mortal lady he hadn’t seen since he was nine years old.

He blinked a few times, bleary, trying to make sense of his surroundings. That it was dark probably meant it was still the middle of the night. So, normal. No reason to panic.

He wouldn’t freak out any worse than he already had. Not over this. Not in front of Jason, who he’d probably woken up with his tossing and turning and his idiotic tendency to-

Leo froze as his brain finally caught up.

Jason.

Jason, who Leo was currently clinging to like he was a giant pillow or a human-sized marble statue of Nike.

It suddenly made a ton of sense why the place his face was pressed into felt so much like skin. Because, duh, it was. His head was buried in the crook of Jason’s neck.

His hands were clenched so tightly into Jason’s shirt, digging into his back, that Leo was sure it must’ve hurt, but he couldn’t get his stupid cramped fingers to unclench.

Jason didn’t seem bothered, though. He’d stopped shaking Leo once he’d realized he was awake, and now his arms were wrapped around Leo’s midsection in a gentle hug.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Jason said it solemnly, like a promise or a Styx oath he couldn’t possibly keep. “Never again.”

Leo had to choke back a sob. He really didn’t want to cry right now. Not when it felt so nice to be held like this, and he was terribly afraid anything he did might make it stop.

“I’m fine,” he forced himself to say, trying and failing to get his breath to steady. “I’m fine.”

Because clearly, saying it twice in a row would make it way more believable!

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was also somewhere in the incoherent nonsense I mumbled at Piper after I got stabbed,” Jason replied, not moving even a little bit. “It hurt more than any of the times I got knocked out, but I was way more conscious through that incident than most.”

Jason wasn’t great at jokes. For some reason, most of the jokes he did make were like this—aimed at the fact that he kept getting hurt.

Something about him trying to joke now made Leo’s insides feel gooey. Like maybe Jason realized that jokes made things less overwhelming for Leo and was gently egging him on. Telling him they didn’t have to talk about anything if he didn’t want to. That it was okay for them to just stay like this, for as long as Leo needed, and if being ridiculous helped, that was what they’d be.

“Still can’t believe how many times you got concussed in the last year. You must’ve really pissed off the Roman god of head injuries at some point.”

Jason snorted. “I’ve been researching all the minor gods and I’m pretty sure we don’t have one of those.”

“Careful. If they do exist, you just made them mad again,” Leo teased, the pressure on his chest easing. It wasn’t as hard to breathe now. “Though I guess I can’t blame you for getting knocked out so much. It’s not your fault you’re so nearsighted you couldn’t see the stuff flying at your head until it was literally hitting you in the face.”

“I can still see things that are far away. They’re just blurry because they’re far away.”

“Yeah, and then they’re blurry because you have a concussion.” Leo finally managed to get his fingers to unclench, gently patting the spots where they’d been digging into Jason’s back. “Sorry for going all human clamp on you, by the way. I, uh… I have a tendency to cling to stuff when I’m having nightmares. It’s been that way since I was little. Kid Leo never quite learnt his lesson with that one.”

“If you remember what we talked about earlier, I don’t think hugging stuff is nearly as weird as me sleeping outside when I get stressed,” Jason said, his head still resting on top of Leo’s like they were two gears perfectly made to fit together that way. “Besides, I don’t mind. Not like it was your first time.”

Right. The campfire koala incident. For a moment, Leo had been too busy being overwhelmed to be embarrassed.

Nice to know that couldn’t possibly last.

“Piper still gives me shit for that. She’s gonna have a field day if she finds out it happened again.”

Jason laughed. Gods, there was a sound Leo would never grow tired of hearing.

So, there was an obvious downside to the fact that Leo was slowly calming down. The downside being: he could start thinking about the way he was curled into Jason, so close that he could feel his heartbeat. He could start thinking about how they were still sharing a bed, except unlike earlier, there was barely any part of them that wasn’t entangled in some way.

His skin prickled and felt hot.

Well, that had the potential to become a problem.

“Hey Superman, think you could release me for a second? I kinda wanna go splash my face.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Do you need any help with the prosthesis?”

Jason slowly untangled himself from Leo, who missed him immediately, but also instantly felt like less of a fire hazard. He really didn’t want to go all Human Torch right now.

“I know how to put my leg on, you dork.” Leo raised an eyebrow. “Besides, Harley said the time you removed it after I fell asleep on you, you spent fifteen minutes just staring at it, trying to figure out how to do it. Not sure how helpful that would be.”

“I was afraid I’d break something,” Jason said sheepishly.

“If you had, I could have just fixed it. As you may recall, I’ve melted parts of this prosthesis before. I’d researched stuff before making it and everything, but it turns out spontaneous combustion isn’t a common amputee issue, not even for demigods. Can you believe it?”

That had Jason laughing again. “Shockingly, I can. Hang on, let me get the lights.”

There was a routine to putting on the prosthesis now, so Leo only sometimes had to take it back off when he realized he’d forgotten to put the sock under the liner or something equally dumb. (It wasn’t his fault this stuff came with a ridiculous amount of steps and what felt like fourteen different socks.)

Considering the fact that it was four am and he was both shaken up and distracted because his crush was right there, looking softly at him, it was still something of a miracle that Leo got it right the first time.

~~~~~~~

Splashing his face did actually help. Leo considered just going back to the bedroom after, but he still felt too agitated, so he spent a few minutes pacing in the hallway with his crutches, then briefly went outside for some fresh air to clear his head.

When he finally got back to the bedroom, Jason wasn’t there.

This would have been more alarming if he hadn’t appeared in the doorway a moment later, holding a cup of steaming liquid.

“I thought maybe a warm drink would make you feel a bit better. Reyna says it helps her, so.” He shrugged.

“Coffee?” Leo asked, trying his hardest not to grimace because the thought was sweet, even if the drink was something you could technically chase him with.

“Cocoa.” Jason smiled at him. “You don’t like coffee.”

“Oh.” There was a warmth in Leo’s chest, flames licking gently at his heart. It had been so long since he’d stayed somewhere long enough for anyone to remember little things like that about him. It had been so long since anyone had cared enough to bother. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, there’s a decent chance it might taste burnt,” Jason said with a grimace. “Or, uh, very sweet. I think I turned the stove up too much and then I got distracted and then I tried to fix it with extra sugar, but that might’ve been a bad call.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, it could also be both,” Leo joked, taking the warm cup in both hands.

Jason startled, still gripping the handle. “Wait, careful, it’s really-”

“What, hot?” Leo laughed. “Appreciate the concern, but I seem to recall being fireproof. Out of all the things that genuinely could kill me a second time, I doubt hot liquid will do the trick.”

Jason looked embarrassed as he removed his hand from the cup. “Forget I said anything.”

“Nah. It’s no fun if I don’t get to tease you about it.” Leo lifted the cup to his mouth and took a sip. The temperature didn’t bother him at all, but he struggled not to splutter at the sweetness of the drink. “Gods, Sparky, how much sugar did you put in this?”

“Three spoonfuls?” Jason answered tentatively, and from the way it tasted Leo was pretty sure he meant tablespoons. “Is it bad?”

“Awful,” Leo teased, but the way Jason deflated made him backtrack immediately. “Hey, I’m messing with you. It’s fine. Just very sweet. Fair warning, though, I cannot guarantee that I won’t spend the next three hours jumping on your bed trying to get the excess energy out.”

“I think I can live with that.” Jason wrung his hands like he usually did when he got nervous. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me what your dream was about. But it sounded bad, and I… if you ever do want to talk about it, I’m here, okay?”

That made Leo feel a little sick, though that might also have been the amount of sugar in his cocoa. He nodded slowly, then spent several quiet minutes slowly sipping the warm, sweet liquid until the cup was empty. It helped, if only a little.

Jason didn’t push him.

Maybe that was why, when Leo sat the cup down on the bedside table, trying to calm his racing heart, he did say something.

“The nightmares are worse than usual lately. Sometimes I dream about what happened to my mom. Sometimes it’s just bad memories from quests we’ve been on. Piper getting hurt. The time you got stabbed. The time I died.”

Jason winced. “Yeah, I’ve had a lot of nightmares about you…” He broke off, like maybe saying the word ‘dying’ would remind Thanatos Leo existed and to come back for him. “Sorry. Keep going.”

Leo desperately wished he had some way to keep his hands busy. He didn’t sleep with the toolbelt on. He wasn’t sure about the constraints of magic items, but it would be really inconvenient if he somehow broke it by rolling onto it or if it started spilling random half-finished inventions all over the bed every time he turned during the night, so he didn’t risk it.

For lack of anything better, he drummed his fingers against the side of the bed.

“There’s other stuff, too. It was mostly ‘other stuff’ tonight—at least the coherent bits I can remember. Bad childhood memories from after Gaia killed my mom.” Leo’s fingers clenched around the bed frame. He felt properly sick now. He’d never told anyone about this—not even Piper, who knew just about everything else. “Right, cool, so not to waste that perfectly good dramatic build-up, but I don’t really know how to talk about this.”

“You don’t have to talk about it right now, if it’s too much,” Jason reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. “We don’t have to talk at all. We can just sit here. Or we can go back to shitty head injury jokes. Whatever helps.”

“This is helping,” Leo said immediately, unsure if he was referring to Jason being there in general, how being touched grounded him in the moment, or Jason making it blatantly obvious how well he knew him.

That the third one was even an option felt absurd in itself.

The thing was: Leo was kind of terrified of being known. Terrified of people looking at him differently if they saw all of him—all the cracked and broken bits.

But this was Jason. Jason, who sucked at this stuff just as badly as Leo did, but who was still trying because he cared so much. Who paid attention to little things no one else bothered to notice. Who knew when Leo felt vulnerable about something and didn’t tease him or push him to talk. Who made him terrible sugary cocoa at four in the morning because he thought it might help.

And every part of Leo that wasn’t busy being terrified was so incredibly sick of being alone.

He took a few steadying breaths, which was a colossal waste of time because they did not help, and then everything came spilling out.

“I’ve had some shitty experiences with foster parents. The first one was the worst—like, if you looked up ‘terrible’ in a dictionary, I’m pretty sure you’d just find a picture of her face. She shouldn’t have been around kids at all, but she seriously couldn’t handle a traumatized eight year old with severe ADHD. She yelled at me a lot. Sometimes it was more than yelling. It got worse the longer I was there—the more she realized I wasn’t any of the things she’d wanted me to be.” Leo looked away. “Story of my life, I guess. I’m never what anyone wants me to be.”

This time he couldn’t choke back the sob that was bubbling up in his throat. It was too much, too fast, and he didn’t have an undo button. He was afraid of what he’d see in Jason‘s face when he looked up. Him and his stupid lack of a brain-to-mouth-filter. No one wanted to deal with-

Jason’s arms wrapped around him again, pulling him back into his chest, promptly interrupting Leo’s spiral.

“Forget her. Forget anyone who ever made you feel like that.” Jason’s voice was soft and reassuring, but there was an angry edge to it, the same kind he’d had when he’d started sparking electricity after that one kid’s stupid comment. “There isn’t a single thing I’d change about you. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed in my life.”

“What song did you steal that from?” Leo joked, because he couldn’t fathom the thought that Jason might mean that.

He’d never been what anyone needed in their lives—a lot of the time, he was actively the opposite. His mom had loved him to pieces, he knew that, but him being there had been the thing that got her killed, and he hadn’t gotten any less skilled at screwing up people’s lives since.

He pressed his face into Jason‘s shoulder, shuddering, trying to get the tears to stop. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“I never told you what my first impression of you was, did I?” Jason continued, undeterred. He didn’t let go. It was completely unfair how nice that felt.

“Confusion?” Leo guessed, finally getting a handle on his breathing, if nothing else. “That was amnesiac Jason’s main emotion for the first hour or so after I met him.”

“I guess, yeah.” Jason shrugged. “But for reasons other than the general ‘waking up on a bus with several people I don’t know’-situation. You weren’t how I expected my best friend to be at all. You were exactly none of the things I’d been taught were important my whole life.”

“Dude, your pep talk needs work, because ouch,” Leo muttered. He tried to make it sound light-hearted, but he was failing miserably. Even knowing that Jason was probably going somewhere with this—what, with the fact that he still had Leo wrapped in his arms and everything—hearing these words still stung. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down.”

“I wasn’t done.”

Leo forced himself to look up, meeting Jason’s eyes for the first time since he’d started talking. There was something so sincere and vulnerable in his expression that Leo didn’t really want to look away again.

“Oh, are we getting into all my great qualities now? That might take a while.” Joking was easy. So much easier than to address that Jason looking at him like this made his heart sputter like a faulty machine engine.

“You’re a troublemaker, and impulsive, with no respect for authority. You just act instead of thinking. And somehow it always works out. I overthink everything I do, but when you say you’ve got a plan, I know we’ll be okay, even before you’ve actually told me what the plan is.” There was such genuine awe in Jason’s voice that Leo thought something inside him would crack open. “You make me laugh and be stupid in a way I never would have allowed myself to be before I met you. And I like myself so much more when I’m with you. I’ve spent my whole life learning to be a hero and a leader—being exactly the kind of person everyone else wanted me to be. When we’re together, I feel like I’m finally learning what it’s like to be happy.”

The world tilted off its axis and Leo wasn’t sure he ever wanted it to right itself again. The way Jason was looking at him right now stood a very real chance of being the reason for his second death in under three months.

Leo seemed to have decided he had a point to prove in regards to impulsivity and lack of thinking, because before his brain had the chance to catch up, he was leaning forward and kissing Jason.

With all the love he had for Piper and her confidence in him actually confessing his feelings like a reasonable person, a part of Leo had always known it would go exactly like this—a heat of the moment thing he had no chance to overthink and plenty of time to regret later.

Jason’s lips were chapped and tasted faintly of toothpaste, and it was a miracle that Leo was even doing this without setting either of their faces on fire. His heart was thundering in his ears, so loud that he was almost sure they must’ve been able to hear it all the way back at Camp Half-Blood.

He pulled away before Jason had much of a chance to react with anything that wasn’t gaping like a fish. For several seconds, Jason‘s expression was the human equivalent of a loading screen, which would have been hilarious in any other situation, but currently made Leo want to melt himself through the floor and disappear.

The regret part of his brain took no time at all to kick in. What the fuck was wrong with him? ‘Here’s a thought: don’t follow up the recollection of traumatic shit you’ve gone through with trying to kiss your best friend.’

Maybe he could move to another country. Did Frank still have relatives in Canada that he could flee to? Or maybe he could ask Thalia for Artemis’ contact information and beg her to let him move to the moon.

Somehow, the first words out of Jason’s mouth after the kiss were, “yikes, you weren’t kidding about the amount of sugar in your cocoa. Sorry. There was chocolate in there at some point, I swear.”

“Is that the only thing-” Leo started, but was promptly stopped by more chapped toothpaste lips.

Jason was kissing him. Jason was kissing him.

It took every bit of focus Leo was currently lacking to not burst into flames as he wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck, melting into him as best he could. His skin was still tingling, and when Jason‘s hand brushed his bare elbow, he got a minor electric shock.

“Ow! Gods, we’re both safety hazards,” Leo laughed, slowly pulling his hands back before they could reconsider and burst into flames belatedly. “Here I am, spending my very limited reserves of concentration on not lighting you on fire by accident, only for you to almost zap me into cardiac arrest. Unbelievable.”

“I may also have made your hair poof out. Sorry,” Jason said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “You okay?”

“I will be if you kiss me again.”

“Are you sure you want to risk that?”

“Hey, I happen to enjoy living dangerously.” Leo grinned. “Besides, you said my lack of thinking was part of what you liked about me. No take-backs.”

And then Jason was back to kissing him.

~~~~~~~

Four extremely clumsy sugar-toothpaste-kisses later, Leo wasn’t sure his hair or his heart would ever go back to normal. He also wasn’t sure he cared.

They curled back up in bed after, like semi-reasonable people who had to get up in an hour and a half because the whole point of this trip had been Jason presenting his plans to the senate, and him sleeping through that would probably not be the best impression he could make on his first day at work.

They were touching intentionally this time. Leo’s head had found a nice spot on Jason’s chest, and one of Jason’s arms was wrapped around his shoulder.

Leo was pretty sure he’d never felt this happy in his life. That was one point for emotional vulnerability, he supposed.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” Jason said into the silence of the room. “I want you to know you can talk to me. About anything.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure you regret that offer the next time I get excited about socket wrenches,” Leo replied with a grin. “I appreciate it, though. And right back at you. It’s not like you’re any better at this than I am.” He gestured, trying to convey the existential horror that was opening up. “But I’ll need precise measurements on how much chocolate you take your sugared milk with in advance.”

Jason groaned. “I feel like I need to apologize to your teeth.”

“Stop saying stuff that makes me want to go back to kissing you while we’re trying to sleep,” Leo chided him. He said this like sleep was a thing that might actually happen. Like his skin wasn’t still prickling with electricity and he wouldn’t spend the remaining night staring at the ceiling, thinking about kissing Jason again in the morning. “Besides, one time you missed my lips so bad that it probably counts.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to open your mouth!”

“That’s the thing with us pesky mortals, Superman. Sometimes we need to breathe.”

Jason chuckled, which made a fresh bout of warmth bubble up in Leo’s chest, but he wasn’t quite as afraid of bursting into flames now. The fire under his skin had tapered off along with his nervousness, feeling less supernova and more overactive radiator. Overactive radiator was a level he could usually control. He wasn’t sure it would ever go below that again if he got to keep kissing Jason whenever he wanted.

“We should probably actually try to get some rest,” Jason sighed, obviously none too thrilled about the thought of having to do the senate presentation on four hours of sleep.

“Boo,” Leo complained, but he nestled up to Jason, moving his head a little for a better spot on his chest. “You’re lucky you’re so comfortable.”

“I think I’m lucky for a lot more reasons than that.”

How Leo managed to not spontaneously combust at that point, he wasn’t sure.

———

Some notes:

Genuinely shocked I don’t see people using Leo’s tendency to hug stuff when he has bad dreams more. I read that part and immediately knew I was gonna do something with it, lol

Fun fact: this wasn’t meant to be a kiss fic, just regular pining hurt/comfort. But then Jason started saying all this stuff and Leo was kissing him and hey, sometimes when I write all I can do is accept I’m only along for the ride.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Jason’s initial reaction to Leo being his best friend in the first book vs him genuinely becoming his best friend later on. Leo is all the things Jason isn’t and was never allowed to be and then he learns that that’s a great thing and seems to be so genuinely in awe of him? Something something child soldier gets to be a kid for the first time in his life and never recovers.

Is Leo’s way of dealing with everything he went through by making jokes about it healthy? Not necessarily, no. But it’s been his main survival technique for ages, and even if he were to eventually recognize that, changing it wouldn’t be an instant thing. What definitely doesn’t help in a situation like that is trampling all over his coping mechanisms. There were a couple of writing decisions made in ToA that I didn’t love for a variety of reasons, and that one is definitely up there. But as far as I’m concerned, canon is only a series of vague suggestions, anyway.

Jason and Leo are both completely shit at admitting anything is wrong and learning how to talk about it to anyone, including each other, is hard. But sometimes trying is all we can do.

Also, for the sake of everyone in that entire series, I hope New Rome has therapists, because CHB sure doesn’t. (Mr D, who’s been gone from camp a lot and canonically didn’t bother to give therapy to anyone but Chris and Nico, is an outlier and should not be counted.)

Anyway, thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs appreciated!

@poppitron360

[batsplat]

casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

me internally when i’m trying to respect and recognise that my dad has unaddressed autism that impacts the way he handles social interractions while also trying to not just excuse the shitty insensitive behaviour that has absolutely contributed to my mental health issues

[feluka]

i'll say it again. every SWANA girlie should be entitled to one free patricide per lifetime no charges no jail time no nothing

[sanguistra]

wow nothing better than spending a million billion dollars on a test to see if your dog has cancer only for it to be inconclusive and the vet tells me he still MIGHT have cancer. SO WHAT DID I SPEND THE MILLION BILLION DOLLARS FOR.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“Too fucked out to reply, sweetheart?” Simon teased, nipping at the skin at the base of your throat. “Nothin’ else you want to yell at me for?”

You let out a groan in reply, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you held onto Simon’s shoulders for dear life as he fucked up into you. “F-fuck you, Si.”

“I’m trying, love.” Simon nipped again at your throat, eliciting a yelp from you. “You come home all mad from your bad day, and take it out on me, huh? What did I do to deserve the attitude, sweet girl?”

“N-Nothing!” You panted breathlessly as Simon continued to ruthlessly pound into you, his cock hitting spots within you that you didn’t even know existed.

“That right?” Simon threw you a smirk, before stalling his hips completely, his cock resting motionless inside of you. “You just needed someone to take your bad mood out on?”

“‘M sorry, Simon.” You moaned, squirming underneath your boyfriend in hopes he’ll start moving again. “Please.”

“Nuh uh, you’ve been bratty. You want to be fucked? You gotta do the work yourself.” Simon flipped the two of you over, smirking as you now sat perched on top of him. “Go on then, use my cock to make you feel better.”

You pursed your lips together in frustration, your nails digging into Simon’s chest as you lifted yourself off his length, before sinking yourself back down onto it. The stretch of him inside of you never failed to make your mouth water. “Oh my god, Simon.”

Your nails began to leave crescents across your lovers chest, marks Simon would be sure to flaunt later. You set a steady pace, the only thing mattering in that moment being your inevitable orgasm.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Simon praised, his eyes locked onto the divine sight of you fucking yourself on his cock. “Keep using me, go on. Make yourself cum.”

As Simon’s fingers squeezed at your hips, and his low grunts and groans filled the room you felt yourself growing closer to your high. His cock was sinking deep within you, causing your mind to run blank.

And with Simon’s sweet praises falling from his lips as you came undone on top of him, the entirety of your shitty day was long forgotten.

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

A/N: excuse the double post- been in a bit of a writing frenzy.

Planning on taking a break for a little while soon, wanted to thank everyone again for the support💕

[hausofwoo]

handy | choi san

pairing: choi san x afab reader

word count: 5K

summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡

when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.

you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.

for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.

another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.

last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.

all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.

you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.

so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.

just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.

the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.

“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.

“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.

“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”

“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”

you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.

“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.

you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?

“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”

“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”

“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.

“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”

“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”

you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.

he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”

“i do,” you confirm.

“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”

you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.

“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.

“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.

“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”

“leo,” you say.

“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.

“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.

“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”

you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”

after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.

“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.

“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.

after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.

sent 12:28 pm this is san :)

you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.

dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.

you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.

are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?

you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.

“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.

“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.

“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.

“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.

you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.

you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”

san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”

“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”

“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.

“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”

he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”

“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.

“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”

he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.

you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.

“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.

“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.

“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.

“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.

“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.

“thank you so much,” you smile.

“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.

“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.

“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”

you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.

“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.

so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.

and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.

you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.

“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.

“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.

“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”

“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”

“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”

“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”

“i would love some tea,” he says.

you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.

“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.

“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.

“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”

“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”

you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.

san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”

“i didn’t mean to keep you—”

“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”

“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”

san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.

“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”

you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.

listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?

when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.

“the sink now, hm?” he asks.

“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”

he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.

“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.

“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”

“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.

“what?” you ask.

“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?

“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.

“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.

your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.

finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.

“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”

you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.

“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.

he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.

he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”

he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.

your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.

“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”

he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.

he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.

san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.

once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”

he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”

you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.

“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”

and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.

suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.

he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.

his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.

“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.

you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.

he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.

“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”

san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”

“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”

“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”

a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho

add me to the taglist!

[lissdiary]

can you please do something with a clingy and jealous katsuki?

you asked, i delivered!

katsuki being jealous? always.

he’ll never show it in public of course until you guys are alone, that’s when he starts being clingy. you and denki are close friends, have been since before you and katsuki started dating. says he was the one that “put you on” or whatever. katsuki has never had a problem with him, besides his awful teasing he never saw him as competition.

“denki give it back, i need it!” you slapped denki’s arm, he was testing your patience. denki stole your mirror, which you needed in order to finish getting ready. mina had rushed you out of your apartment in order to get to the local fair on time. you both had somehow convinced the others to join you so there you were, seated in between katsuki and denki while mina was in the passenger seat and kirishima driving. “hello i need it too! jirou’s performing tonight y’know.” he extended his arm out further, making it impossible for you to reach.

“give it ba-“

kirishima made a sharp turn, causing you to put your hand on denki’s thigh while the other was still reaching for your mirror. katsuki immediately took notice of your hand placement and crossed his arms, only giving you a typical “tch”. you quickly readjusted yourself back into your seat, denki giving you your mirror back. “my bad ..” the rest of the car ride was silent, the only noise playing was mina’s music.

as the group got out of the car, you realized you needed a few more minutes before you were ready. “go on without me, i just need to fix my hair!” katsuki waited for you to finish, he watched you in silence. “can you help me suki?” you turned to look at him, he was still watching you. he sat there manspreading, arms crossed, and with a pout on his face. you always notice when katsuki’s jealous, he makes it so obvious to you. “katsuki baby, are you jealous?” you turned on your side, putting your legs over his thigh. “‘m sorry.” he turned to look at you, uncrossing his arms. there’s just something about you that he can’t stay mad at.

he grabbed you, placing you on his lap. you were stunned by his sudden action, but katsuki was always like this when he was jealous. he wanted to remind you who you belong to, obviously him. you wrapped your arms around his lean, muscular neck, while his hands trailed down to your hips. he put his head on the crook of your neck.

“just put your hands on me next time, tch.” you grabbed his cheeks, rubbing them with your thumb. “i always put my hands on you, how can i make it up to you?” you placed a kiss on his temple, but before you can pull away he presses his lips against yours. he puts his hand on the back of your neck the other caressing your hip, as he’s pulling you closer. he’s addicted to your lips, the way they feel, their shape, everything about them. you pull away, he’s gasping for air. “suki you’re gonna take my makeup off .." you wipe your lips with the back of your hand. "yer’ too pretty sitting on my lap like this, baby. can’t get enough of ya” his hands trailing up to your waist, you both knew the group was waiting but they can go on a couple rides without you.

you both ended up having to use a shitty excuse to explain why you took so long.

[musical-chick-13]

I hate Raúl/Sofía :)

[lauraneedstochill]

if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿

[konigsblog]

as my favorite könig smut writer you’re the only one i trust to do dbf!neighbor!könig x early 20s!reader with the dirtiest, sloppiest, most toe curling age gap smut 💗💗

dbf!neighbour!könig?! sign me the fuck up, i could write a whole series for that filthy man!

synopsis; your father's best friend, könig, has been struggling to get himself into a stable, loyal relationship lately. luckily for him, you offer him some sort of release.

tw/cw; age gap/difference, early 20s! reader x late forties!könig, weed use, blowjob, mutual masturbation, PinV, tell me if i missed anything. MDNI 18+ 🍃

photo credits; @ave661

You've had the hots for your father's best friend for quite a while.

He doesn't live very far from you at all. In fact, he lives next door and visits your father pretty often to smoke together and talk about whatever is bothering him, which usually includes topics like König's failed relationships and inability to hold a woman for longer than a week.

Aside from wanting to rant about his horrible, fucked-up love life and to smoke weed with your old man, he wants to see you as well—maybe even more than speak with your father.

When your father is busy doing something else, like washing the dishes or cleaning his car outside, König will excuse himself to the bathroom and will sneak into your bedroom to admire the place. You have plans to move out soon, but currently, you stay with your father inside of your childhood home. König's hand "mysteriously" sneaks into your clothing hamper and begins looking for a pair of panties.

It's alright, you won't notice surely...

And you can't deny your attraction to him. The sound of his familiar, accented voice leaves your knees weak and your panties damp and soaked with the thoughts running through your dirty mind at the moment. You smile at König and talk to him about your plans for college, watching as his eyes flicker from your chest to your eyes, your nipples turning into little stiff buds at the cold breeze in the living room.

Today was like any other saturday; your father was away down the road for some beers with his other friends in the afternoon while König had just arrived home from another fucked-up date, ending like the rest of his dates have. He looks dishevelled and in dire need of some sort of release. He's visibly and clearly pent up and exhausted, rolling himself a joint to relax, leaning against his porch and closing his eyes tightly. He's deep in thought and doesn't realise that you've sneaked up on him, practically jumping out of his skin at your sudden presence.

“Shit, Mäusi— I didn’t see you there... What’s wrong, dear?” He smiles forcefully. He doesn't want to bother you with his shitty life since you're probably all worked up from college and stressed out, but you insist that he tells you what's bothering him. It doesn't take a lot of convincing since it's hard to deny you, especially when you say that you can help him if he explains.

He invites you inside and offers you a joint, in which you gratefully accept and seat yourself beside him, ready to act as a therapist for him.

“Another fucked date with another woman who seems interested in me, but actually isn’t. It seems like I can’t please any women.” He admits through gritted teeth. At the sight of his frustration, you place your hand on his thigh teasingly. “Do you think there is anything I can do to help?” You ask quietly with a mischievous and playful smile plastered on your face. Your voice is seductive and sultry, eyes half-lidded and lustful. God, You really are a tease, huh?

“And what are you hinting at, Liebling?”

König always thought he'd be the one to initiate, but right now, he was struggling to keep his composure and quickly found himself falling for your acts of seduction. You lowered yourself onto your knees and began to unzip his jeans, cocking your head to the side at the sight of his aching cock springing out in your face. You giggled while König pulled his large hands into fists, throwing his head back at the wet sensation of your lips wrapped around his swollen, weeping cock. He'd been dreaming of this moment for months, Liebe.

The things you do to König fucked-up head, Good Lord. He couldn't help the sounds of pleasure running through his lips, his dick painful at your tight grip and pleasure.

His sounds came out pained and guttural, pleased but so on edge and anxious of what your father would think about him after being so touchy-feely with his best friend's daughter. He curses himself out for agreeing to this, feeling like such a pervert despite yearning for more of your addictive, sweet touch. “Feel good?” You question him, knowing he'll get frustrated and will force your head down onto his leaking boner. He huffs and puffs, gripping your hair in a tight fist and pushes your head down with a loud moan leaving his mouth, choking on his groans and grunts.

You coat König's lengthy shaft in your spit to get him slick enough, before seating yourself onto his big lap, your hand stroking and fisting his dick. He slides his fingers into your hole with his eyes wide at the sensation and texture of your gummy walls. He chokes on his pleased sounds as you tease his tip by rolling your soft thumb over his uncut, creamy tip and feel as your folds are stuffed with his thick digits. He pumps them into your soaking cunt and admires the sticky mess left between your fingers, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy cunt.

“C’mere, Taube—Kiss me, please.” He grumbles out, getting obsessive with the pleasure you offer him. He places his lips against yours, making out with you messily and sloppy, the effects of the marijuana leaving him relaxed and at ease with all his concerns and worries forgotten about. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip while you squeeze his dick, whimpering into the sweet kiss. König's fingers begin to pump into you even faster, pulling away to beg you to sit on his cock. You're on edge and shaking pathetically, nearing your orgasm but not quite fully there.

“Sit on it, dear. Don’t be so shy, not now you can’t.” The smell of nicotine sticks to his skin, your thighs shaking as you begin to ease down onto his weeping, veiny dick. König doesn't hold back the sounds of his arousal and euphoria as it burns through his large body, bucking his broad and sturdy hips into your body while cursing you out for being such a dirty tease. You leave König totally obsessed after finally receiving some action after so long.

You bounce on his lap while he fucks his bulbous cock deep into your drooling slit. You gasp and roll your eyes to the back of your head at the ache andd pleasure between your thighs, unable to stop letting out the most perverted and pleased noises. You can feel as König hits your cervix with each thrust and his heavy balls slap against your rear as he drives his hips against your tight rear. Your eyes fill with tears at the pain and stretch, his girthy dick leaving you breathless as you admire the state he leaves your pussy in; raw and sensitive.

König can't hold himself back when you begin to lose control. Sweet, pearly droplets of your sweet arousal run down his boner and coat his length, allowing him to fuck you even harder and deeper with ease as he uses your sweet juices as lube.

“That’s it, little one—God, look how well you’re taking’ me, princess. You’re a mess, such an addictive mess, huh? You’re gonna be an obsession of mine, that’s for sure.” König grits his teeth as he bucks his hips into you even harder, his eyes shut tightly as your walls clamp down around him one last time, filled with ropes of his white creaminess. You pant and heave at the stomach bulge caused by his loads and ropes of his hot release. You grip his jaw to make out with him, your body sweaty and hot with König's cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

You have to sneak back home before your father comes back and asks what you were doing over at his best friend's house. König would be slaughtered if he found out the truth.

You just have to act all innocent, as if König's milky and potent load is oozing out of your hole and dampening your panties at the dinner table.

[nottsangel]

Mattheo Riddle nsfw headcanons

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, vaginal sex, fingering, praise and degradation, bondage, spit kink, overstimulation

nav. // m.list // blurbs m.list // taglist

a dom! can be a bit more submissive when he’s sleepy or feeling sad but usually prefers being dominant

not much foreplay if it’s a one-night stand but if you’re his girlfriend then he’ll really take his time

takes it slow when undressing you and kisses every inch of your body

“so beautiful, my girl. all fuckin’ mine.”

deep and slow strokes that have you rolling your eyes to the back of your head

he’s gentle and rough at the same time and it gets your mind all fuzzy

horny at the most random times. he just doesn’t have control over it

quickies before quidditch practice ‘cause ‘it gives him energy’

which is just a shitty excuse to fuck you because this man always has energy. he’s like a puppy

doesn’t care if you wear revealing clothes out in public because he’ll just fight whoever tries anything with you and fuck you so hard afterwards, they’ll hear you scream his name

“yeah, just like that baby. scream my fucking name”

loves fingering you while leaving love bites all over your neck

doesn’t only like marking you with hickeys, but also the other way around. and proudly shows them off too

praise him. he loves that shit. especially when he’s fingering you or eating you out. he just needs to hear from his girl how well he’s doing

lights a cigarette right after you’re done while you’re laying on top of him with his cock still buried deep inside of you

kinks

degradation + praise. a perfect mix of both. calls you his ‘good little slut’

tying you up. just loves having control over you. if he’s really in that mood, he’ll even hold a vibrator against your clit until you’re begging for him to stop, which brings us to the next kink

overstimulation. seeing you shake and cry as he makes you cum for the nth time that night feeds his ego a little too much

spit kink. will forcefully grip your face, tell you to open up, and spit in your mouth “that’s a good girl”

favourite positions

prone bone. but with his arm wrapped around your neck while he dirty talks into your ear

on his desk. any position on his desk, whether that be you bent over the surface or you facing him with your legs wrapped around his torso

reverse cowgirl. because he likes to slap your ass while you ride him

reblogs and comments are very appreciated !!

taglist (join here): @shxwty43 @heartthc @kayleiggh @daddysfucktoyslut @abaker74 @anahcruz15 @tellenically @lady-of-love-beauty-and-death @gardening-tool-for-sebby-stan @vintageirene @poetrybxtch @leelizzz @justreadingficsdontmindme @stillinski25 @burningdesirebby0 @hvgwartss @bunnyweasley23 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @liqvidlvvck @loveeharrington @demirunner @saturnmoonyy @nyctophicbtch @iloveefictionalpeople @s1lent-gl1tch @jac1ndaa @iluvweasleys @mih-velaryon @oncasette @juletaylorsversion @scrletletter @le000xxgrd @dramaticals @thepotatopigeon

also tagging my mattheo girls @obxsprincess & @eternalbuckley & @blackthunder137 + my girl @rafesthroatbaby <3

— if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, fill in this form.

[salemlunaa]

USING SATS FOR THE VOID OR ON ITS OWN:

a guaranteed “method”, where all that you desire is owed to you

IM BACK BITCHES!!!

DID YALL MISS MEEEE?? BC I MISSED YOU

anyway, i know i talk alot about not needing methods, and its true, you don’t need anything but yourself to tap in to the void/“I AM” state. However i dont really see SATS as a method and i think it’s great to consider when looking at loa and shifting

“what is SATS?”

you may ask, well, that is the abbreviation for the “state akin to sleep”

as you can see, the word “akin” means something of a similar nature to, so the state akin to sleep is basically the name to describe the lightheaded, woozy state before you go to bed bed

You can visualise what you want in this state, or you can affirm, you don’t need ten thousand affirmations, one can get the point across you’re a god and the operant power so even with one vague affirmation, your subconscious mind knows exactly what your talking about.

“when will i be able to see my results?”

you may also ask, and let me tell you it is guaranteed that you why what you want as soon as you wake up. This is why this “method” is popular in the loa community because it one of those where your subconscious mind is in full control.

An example of this could be Neville Goddard’s manifesting class. He asked that his students affirm/visualise climbing a ladder during SATS. He then told them to affirm against it during the day, telling themselves that they will NOT climb a ladder. He told his students not to come back if they didn’t climb a ladder and everyone returned.

This example just shows how powerful we can be when we let our subconscious mind take the wheel. All our doubts and fears cancel out and whatever we desire becomes real and no longer remains a desire. You can use this to enter the void, visualise your void and affirm for it and you will wake up there. You can do this for absolutely anything you desire. you can use SATS on its own, a lot of people just love the void so they use SATS to get there, but affirming for your dream life or visualising you waking up in the bed of your dream reality is another method other than the void.

A lot of you may struggle with this because you either, “can’t fall asleep” or you “fall asleep too quickly” while your mind was wondering and to that i say STAY DISCIPLINED!! The same way you would stay disciplined while studying for a test or while working a shift at your job is the same way you must stay disciplined while doing this method. It’s okay to “fail” the first time, and you’re more than allowed to feel upset waking back up in your shitty “reality”. But don’t beat yourself up about it and know that you can always do it again. You can simply decide that SATS is easy for you and it will reflect. always.

And as i always say, you don’t have to wait for the night to do this, ofcourse if you have things to do you don’t need to put them on hold but you don’t need to wait for the night to come, you. an fall into this state at ANY TIME OF DAY, so there goes another excuse for you to procrastinate. Now get to it love, because i KNOW that you can do this.

WAKING UP WITH YOUR DESIRES GUARANTEED SOUNDS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE, BUT DONT LET THAT SCARE YOU. 🔮💋

[wonryllis]

𖹭ㅤI'M A MTHRFCKIN STARBOY! ( enhypen as badboys )

────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.

﹙NOTES.﹚ enhypen as ur baddie-stars. 𖥔 ݁ fluff. fem!reader. 827wc. LIB?

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 secretly picks you up at midnight and takes you to his illegal street race matches every week. "stay right here pretty, i'll win this for you," he brags, guiding you through the crowd of onlookers to the very front where he takes off his leather jacket and puts it on you,"don't want you getting cold" before he's rushing to his motorbike at the start line. quite literally winning it by a huge gap, wanting to impress you so bad even though he knows he's already bagged you bad enough. "i could win anything for you," his lips finding yours immediately after taking off his helmet and dropping it without a care.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 brings you to his underground boxing space to teach you self defense, taking the excuse of touching you everywhere. "here, here, and here," he says pointing to the points you should aim to attack. touching from your neck in a chokehold and dragging it down to just above your pantline. when you reach forward to try and tackle him, he's swiftly grabbing you by the waist and pinning you to the floor. hands cupping your wrists and lips hovering over yours, lightly brushing against,"you need to try harder angel," he moves again now bringing his lips to your lips, nibbling on your earlobe,"come for my match tomorrow?"

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 sneaks into your room late at night, hiding from your parents because they just don't like him at all. "jake what are you doing!" you whisper shout, opening your window and seeing him climbing up after getting his 'coming over' text. "just wanted to see my doll's face and hear her pretty voice," he winks, jumping over the window frame and immediately pulling you against him by your waist. his lips travel from on top of your closed eyes to your lips, to your jawline down to your collarbone and then back to your lips as he walks back to your bed. sitting down on the edge and pulling you over his lap,"you're so addicting,"

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 shows up unannounced to your university to take you back home, leaning against his bike as he waits for you, a stone cold look. "sunghoon?" he's smiling as soon as he sees you, moving forward to take your bag from you. "here," the little necklace you accidentally left with him last time, the one he hates so much because it's from your shitty ass boyfriend. his eyes bore into yours in a look of longing before he leaves a kiss on your forehead,"he doesn't deserve you," putting on the other helmet on you,"i'll make you mine, treat you so much better," stays at your doorstep until you walk inside and shut the door.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 pulls you into closed spaces when you fail to answer his texts and calls. "sunoo! what are you doing? what if we get caught!" his hands wrap around your wrists and bring you closer, your closed fists resting against his chest,"you weren't replying, i missed you," he says, his forehead coming to rest atop yours while his eyes stare into yours in the dark,"a lot," hands then moving to your waist as he leans down to bury his face in your neck, taking in the familiar scent of yours he is obsessed with. his fingers reach over to play with a strand of your hair as he leaves little below your ear, only he can get his close to you,"mine,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 hunts down and beats up people who make your life difficult in any way and then shows up at your window to apologize and have his wounds be treated by your tender hands. "baby i'm sorry but i'm not sorry," jungwon grimaces at your fingers touching the little cut on his lower lip. eyes trying to find yours as you keeping staring at his wounds in a silence that disturbs him. "for you i would cross any line in a heartbeat," his voice softens when you meet his gaze teary eyed, explaining to him that it's him going to such lengths that worries you, what if he gets seriously hurt," 's just, love you too much,"

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 at your doorstep any time of the day, unbothered about getting caught by literally anyone. puts you on top of any surface to make out. "oh my god riki stop it!" you swear while rushing down the stairs as he keeps on pressing on his loud ass horn until you're out the door and in his sight. you quickly stumble over the lawn to where he stands, legs over each side of his bike. hitting his chest in a scolding as he pulls you closer, "what to do, you make me crazy," his heart thumps heavily against yours in a sync,"haven't seen you all day, let me have a look," moving to cup your face close, breaths mingling in the cold.

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue

[ro-is-struggling]

Secret Encounters || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: They know it's wrong, but they can't deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)

English is not my first language

Word count: 3900

Notes: I promise I'll stop writing tragic princess x witcher stories after this one. Also, sorry for the shitty summary but it's only smut so it was kinda hard to come up with something lol

Geralt had never been fond of royalty, but the moment his eyes fell on hers he knew she was different. He didn't really understand why, but he felt some type of way whenever she was near. Her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet scent that lingered on his clothes and skin and accompanied him wherever he went. He could not escape her even when he wandered alone through the forest in search of the beast he had been hired to kill... not even when he was lying in his bed at night, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he tried to rest. Her scent enveloped him at all times, awakening something deep inside him. It drove him crazy, crazy enough to act on his desires. 

He knew it was wrong, it was inappropriate to take advantage of the king's hospitality like that. And she knew it was wrong too, she was a princess soon to be married, a woman of high value who had no business with a witcher like Geralt. And yet, neither seemed to be able to stay away from the other. It was as if there was some kind of energy force pulling them together, the very will of destiny imposing itself over their own. When Geralt showed up at her chambers she knew she should have turned him away. No matter how much she had been longing for him to take her in his arms and make her his, the right thing to do was to reject him and move on with her life. In fact, she had opened the door with the intention of doing exactly that, but when her eyes met the imposing figure of the witcher, towering over her as his amber eyes admired her face, she could not resist the temptation. She gave in to her desires, crashing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as she slowly pulled him into her room.

The feel of his touch lingered on her body for days, her skin permanently marked by the roughness of his caresses and the warm wetness of his mouth. The sound of his grunts of pleasure as he buried himself in her echoed in her mind at all times. He was all she could think about. She knew it was wrong, but she needed to feel his hands on her body again, exploring every inch of her skin as he showed her pleasure like no other man could.

Despite their desperation, they were able to keep their hands off each other for a while. Though all their self-control disappeared by the time of Geralt's last day in the castle. After slaying the beast —and collecting his reward— the witcher was ready to leave when the king made him an offer he couldn't resist. There would be a feast in celebration of the fall of the creature that had terrorized the town and Geralt, as their savior, was the guest of honor. He would normally have declined the offer, although the promise of free food and alcohol sounded enticing, he hated the idea of being stuck with a bunch of drunken noblemen. However, this time it gave him the perfect excuse to stay there a while longer and say goodbye to the princess the right way —the way he knew they had both been fantasizing about since their last encounter.

The party quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse, defiant yellow eyes meeting hers in the crowd, admiring her lips as she laughed and the way her body moved as she danced. She was doing it on purpose, accepting the proposals of all the knights who bowed in front of her to provoke him. She wanted to spark a reaction in him, see how far she could push him, how far she could push the boundaries of their secret relationship. The thought of being caught filled her body with adrenaline, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that he could almost hear it over the noise of the party.

She waited for the right moment and took advantage of the first distraction to escape to her bedroom. Her eyes met Geralt's before disappearing behind the side door of the great hall, her desire-laden expression a silent plea for him to follow her. She sat in front of the large mirror in her room waiting for him, removing the jewelry from her hair and combing her hair without any haste. And just as she expected, only a few minutes after her arrival, she felt the sound of the door's wood creaking as it opened. She saw Geralt lock the door behind him in the reflection of the mirror and she had to hold back the smile that wanted to form on her lips —a failed attempt to save some of her decency and not look so desperate.

"You're not supposed to be here." She said as if his presence didn't make her heart race. "It's wrong."

"That's not what you said the other night." Geralt's deep voice was music to her ears, his slightly mocking tone awakening that tingle under her skin. He walked up to her, holding her gaze in the mirror as if challenging her. He stood tall at her back, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but not close enough to feel the brush of his hands on her skin. 

"The other night was a mistake." She affirmed, setting the comb aside. It was true, their furtive encounter, though pleasurable, had been a mistake. But they both knew well that neither really cared. The desire they felt, the tension in the air, it was all too much, it clouded their thinking leaving them at the mercy of their most primitive feelings. 

Geralt reached out his hands to her, brushing her hair aside so he could caress her skin. He noticed how she stifled a sigh through the reflection of the mirror, his warm touch awakening that flame within her. His fingers moved gently across her shoulders, up her neck until they reached her cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, losing herself in the moment. It felt just as she remembered it, warm and hard, yet strangely soft and comforting at the same time. It was as if his hands had never left her skin, as if his caresses were permanently carved into her body.

"Do you wish for me to leave?" he said, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He knew the answer to her question, he could read it on her face, smell it in the air, feel it in the vein in her neck that throbbed rapidly beneath his fingers. But still, he needed to be sure he was right, hear from her lips the plea for his caresses. He needed to know that she was as desperate as he was.

She didn't give him a verbal response, just rose from her seat and pressed her lips to his. Geralt's hands closed around her waist, pulling her body against his as he quickly took control of the kiss. She didn't bother fighting for dominance, acknowledging her subordination to him almost immediately. She didn't need to win, she just needed to feel his hands on her skin again, gripping and caressing every inch of her body in a rush of pleasure until the early morning sun forced them apart.

There was nothing tender and soft about the way Geralt's lips attacked hers, only lust and desperation, but she loved every part of it. She loved the way his tongue invaded her mouth and how his teeth nibbled at her lips before moving his wet kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at the skin without fear of leaving marks. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her as she was completely at his mercy, surrendered to the pleasure only he could give her. She didn't care if she had to spend the next week finding creative ways to hide the evidence of their furtive encounter, she just needed to feel him. She wanted him to mark her, to declare ownership over her body. She knew she belonged to him, always would, even if she never saw him again after tonight.

Clothes soon became a problem, a barrier that kept them apart, so desperate hands worked carelessly to fix it. Her dress was the first to go, the expensive fabric pooling around her feet leaving her naked body completely exposed to Geralt's hungry gaze. She should have been embarrassed, but nothing but lust and anticipation pumped through her veins. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever seen, as if she were a goddess he had the privilege of pleasing. Never before had anyone looked at her in that way, so intense, so filled with adoration. She loved it, it made her feel special, powerful. 

Geralt didn't waste a second, calloused fingers caressing every inch of exposed skin. It awakened a fire inside her, a tingling that spread throughout her body, concentrating on her core. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, sinking his canines into her as his hands moved down to her breasts, earning a couple of sighs from the princess as he showed attention to her nipples erect with anticipation. He smiled against her neck, proud of himself as the scent of her arousal lingered in the air. It was an intoxicating scent, the sweet forbidden fruit begging him to take it.

When his fingers slipped between her wet folds, she let out a moan of pleasure as her grip on the witcher's shoulders tightened. It was as beautiful as he remembered, a harmonious melody traveling through him and going straight to his cock. It was the sound of temptation, of lust, urging him to carry on, to forget all rules of morality and decorum and take what was his.

“P-please, Geralt.” She pleaded against his lips. Her breathing was rapid and she looked up at him through half-closed eyelids. He slipped two of his fingers inside her with ease, pushing them as deep as he could and moving them until he made her moan. She looked so beautiful like this, her eyes closed in pleasure and her parted lips releasing those beautiful desperate sighs, completely at his mercy.It was an image that would stay in Geralt's mind for quite some time. 

"I know, I know," he soothed her, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek. "I have to get you ready for me."

"I-I need to feel you, p-please." She whimpered in a pathetic, desperate attempt to get him to do what she wanted. She needed to feel all of him, his hot skin pressed against hers, his fingernails sinking into the skin of her hips as he buried his cock deep inside her, his ragged breaths in the hollow of her neck. She needed him as much as she needed the air she breathed and could wait no longer.

Thankfully he took pity on her, removing his hands from her body to unbutton his pants. She suppressed the whimper that wanted to escape her throat as she felt empty without his fingers inside her, knowing the sensation would not last for long. Geralt instructed her to turn over and her body obeyed him before she could process his words or wonder what he was up to. Her body no longer belonged to her, it belonged to him and always would.

He held her against his chest for a moment, one hand roaming her body while the other held her head steady facing forward. She could feel his hard member pressed against her lower back as his heat enveloped her completely. Their gazes met in the mirror once more and she saw the darkness of desire staining the beautiful yellow orbs. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent before lowering his lips to her ear.

"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as I fuck you, princess." Geralt whispered in her ear, his voice firm and slightly deeper than normal. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, studying her reaction in the reflection. "I want you to see how beautiful you look with your face scrunched up in pleasure so you'll remember it after I'm gone and your future husband can't make you feel this good."

He gave her no warning before pushing his hard cock into her tight wet hole, and he wasn't gentle either. A quick thrust of his hips and he was balls deep inside her as her velvety walls struggled to take him. Geralt was big, it was almost hard for him to fully fit inside her despite how aroused she was. But it wasn't painful, not in a bad way at least. She loved the way his cock stretched her, almost impaling her on it when it was all the way in. The burning only added to her pleasure, the knot in her belly tightening with the promise of her orgasm.

Geralt set a fast, torturous pace, earning a string of incoherent moans each time he touched that special place deep inside her. She could feel him twitching inside her as her walls closed around him, desperate to hold him in place. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time, a mixture of feelings born of her need for relief. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with her cries of pleasure and Geralt's grunts filled the room. It was loud and she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered that someone passing through the corridor could hear them, but she didn't care. She felt too good to worry about anything else.

The pleasure she felt was so intense that she had trouble keeping her eyes open, her heavy eyelids closing involuntarily against the force of Geralt's thrusts. But each time she did, he tightened his grip on her jaw, growling in her ear for her to open them. The image reflected in the mirrored surface was too much for her to take. Her small figure wrapped in the strong arms of her lover towering over her and making her feel even smaller and more insignificant. The bulge forming in her lower belly with each thrust showed just how deep inside her Geralt was. His teeth on her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin without taking his intense gaze away from her eyes in the mirror. And finally, her face, with parted lips letting out a string of melodious moans, and glassy eyes filled with tears that threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. The expression of pure pleasure on her face was one she had never seen on her before  —and she feared that after tonight she would never see it again.

It was all too much for her, and the possessive way Geralt was acting didn't help her in the slightest. He was determined to leave a mark on her, both physically and mentally. He wanted her to see traces of him on her own skin after he was gone, but he also wanted to make sure she remembered him. Make sure she remembered the intensity of the moment and the way he had made her feel. He wanted her to think of him every time her future husband left her unsatisfied, touching herself to relieve the pressure inside her as images of him in this very moment flashed through her mind. 

He made sure to let her know his intentions between grunts of pleasure, feeling her walls close around his member with every word that left his lips. She liked it as much as he did and that only egged him on.

"Geralt, please," she begged, not quite sure of what it was she was asking of him. Please stop because the pleasure traveling through my veins is too much to bear? Please keep going and don't stop until I'm passed out from exhaustion and you've ruined me for the rest of the men? She wasn't sure, both options were equally valid.

"I know... just let go," he encouraged her, his warm breath crashing against the skin of her ear as he spoke. "Just let go for me, princess."

Her body took his words as a command and it wasn't long before the knot in her belly snapped, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her insides. Her orgasm hit her like a pile of bricks, leaving her completely stupid. Geralt's name escaped her lips like a prayer as she lost herself in pleasure. All thought left her mind, she could only feel as her lover's thrusts slowed, her body trembling in his arms from overstimulation.

She only had a couple of seconds to recover, whining as she felt empty when Geralt pulled away from her momentarily. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, so he took her in his arms and laid her down on the bed carefully. He settled into the space between her legs, taking a moment to admire her and caress her body before continuing. His hands ran over her warm, sweat-covered skin in an almost gentle way, an act that contrasted with the roughness of his behavior so far but was nonetheless welcomed by her.

The tenderness didn't last long, though, because once he slid his cock inside her once more, he returned to the animalistic grunts and punishing rhythm of his thrusts. This time it was more desperate and erratic, letting her know that he was close to his own orgasm. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to paint her velvety walls with his seed. The very idea was enough to have her on the edge again. 

"You feel me, princess?" He said, taking one of her hands and bringing it down to her lower belly. He pressed it against her skin, trapping it between his palm and the bulge forming there from his cock. It added a new sensation and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her throat. "Feel how deep inside of you I am?

"Fuck," she cursed, eyes rolling back as her free hand clutched at Geralt's wrist to make sure he didn't move it off her belly. The pressure felt too good, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her with a force that left her breathless.

"I'm the only one who gets is deep, f-fuck, the only one who makes you feel this way." He wasn't asking, it was a clear statement, but still she nodded, letting out repeated affirmations between high-pitched moans.

"I belong to you... My body is forever yours, no one will ever make me feel this good." The animalistic growl he let out at those words almost pushed her over the edge, leaving her on the verge of her second orgasm. She knew he was close too, she could feel it in his erratic thrusts and the way his cock twitched inside her. She needed to feel him come undone for her, to paint her walls white as he emptied his seed inside her. She needed him to mark her, to claim her as his own. They both knew a relationship between them was impossible, but she would always be his in secret. Her body would always miss him.

"Please, I need to feel you." She managed to say between moans and ragged breaths. "I need you to fill me up, please." She sounded pathetic at this point, but she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling Geralt's seed trickling down her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. 

The witcher groaned, a cocky smile playing on his lips. One of his hands flew to the headboard of the bed, the wood creaking under his strong grip as he adjusted his position. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper —if that was even possible—, impaling her on his cock as she cried out in pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, leaving traces of red marks on his skin.

"You're desperate for it, aren't you?" he teased her arrogantly. "Don't worry, princess, I'm gonna shoot my seed so deep inside of you that you'll carry it for days. Is that what you want? You want me to mark you as mine? You want to feel me between your legs while you swear loyalty to your husband?"

"Yes! Fuck, Geralt, please... mark me, claim me as yours, please." 

The witcher did not expect to find it so erotic to hear her admit her deepest desires, but he did. It awakened something inside him, a primal desire that took over his body. He became an animal, a fierce, possessive wolf that was desperate for some relief. After all, that was exactly what their relationship was, pure animal instinct, pure lust and desperation. An intense attraction they couldn't resist even when they knew how wrong it was.

He came with a loud grunt, emptying his load inside her warm, tight walls. She felt every drop of it, her cunt filled to the brim with his desire for her. The intensity of his orgasm triggered hers, her body trembling under Geralt's weight, her walls tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he had. His name fell from her lips as pleasure consumed her, a prayer begging him to stay with her. He knew it was impossible, but in that moment - mind clouded with pleasure as he felt her crumbling beneath him - he really considered it. He wanted to feel her body against his again, hear the sound of her voice as she moaned his name outside of his memories. He needed her.

But that was just a fantasy, the desire for the impossible. She was a princess who was soon to be married and he was a witcher who had nothing to do with the court and royal affairs. She was not his —even if her body was— and he was not hers. And that was the hard truth. So when he came to his senses he rose from his place on the bed, where he rested with her beside him. The princess watched him as he dressed, trying to ignore the strange feeling of emptiness that came over her at the thought that once he crossed the threshold of the door she would never see him again.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. Geralt admired her naked figure on the bed as he contemplated his answer, liking the way the dim candlelight illuminated her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. As wrong as it was, he would really like to see her again, but the truth was he didn't know if it would happen. The future was uncertain, especially in his line of work, so to give her a straight answer would be to lie to her.

"Only time will tell."

[hurlingdown]

DISTRACTION — TOP MALE READER X DRACULE MIHAWK

synopsis. mihawk's having a shitty day, and frankly, he needs you to comfort him. perhaps you could give him a . . . distraction of some sort, preferably. wc. 2.3k

tags. needy! power bttm! mihawk, service top! reader, food play (concerning wine), fingering, anal sex, cumming untouched, slight praise kink

“I am not your father, nor will I ever be.” 

What had started as a simple joke had escalated into a topic of matter with a depth that none of them—Zoro or Perona—could fathom. After Mihawk spit out those damaging words and strode off to his private quarters, the two had sat in silence for the remainder of their dinnertime, before Zoro had gotten up and said he wanted to train some more, and Perona said she needed her beauty sleep. 

They were excuses. Distractions. Because it had hurt, and none of them could figure out why—the belated realisation that perhaps Mihawk did not associate them with familiarity, did not acknowledge their presence as a part of his life. They were strangers, still. Strangers who had spent every day for two years together in an abandoned castle. 

The sharp knocking on your door of your study had caught your attention, and you frowned. Your husband wasn’t one for such an impatient feat, and rarely would Perona or Zoro come to you for something. 

You unlocked the door. 

“Who is—oh.” A pleasant surprise, and you allowed yourself to relish in the slightly dishevelled appearance of Mihawk without his plumed hat, his piercing golden eyes a little more tired than usual. You grinned. “Hey.” 

“Y/n,” he said, rather stiffly. “I would… like a diversion tonight.” 

You stilled.

A diversion. Were you misinterpreting his words? Was this his way of propositioning you? Him, really? Dracule Mihawk? 

“Did you train too hard with Zoro today, love?” You laughed, but you didn’t miss the way his expression hardened at the mention of the other swordsman. 

“No. If that is too much to ask for, then I will take my leave.” 

“Wait.” You gently wrapped a hand around his wrist, tugging him back to you. “I’m sorry for laughing. And if… a diversion is what you want, then I suppose I can’t afford to disappoint my husband, mm?” 

Your hands slid to his waist, pulling him into the room before closing and locking the door behind you. You knew something was on his mind—the way he would suddenly seem distant, eyebrows furrowing, his grip on your shoulders turning rigid as you kissed him languidly, trying your best to distract him from whatever. 

Mihawk pulled back, somewhat breathless, and gave a single tug on your shirt. You bit back a smile at his casual display of need, taking the hint to undress yourself, but afterwards immediately surging back to continue the kiss, helping him remove his coat. He was way more touchy than usual today, one hand cupping the back of your neck to deepen the kiss while the other rested tenderly on your bicep, securing your hold on him. 

Before long, the two of you had ended up on the made bed with him sprawled beneath you, naked and pretty despite having solid strength embedded into his very being. As your hands slowly kneaded his thighs to get him to relax, his golden eyes scrutinised your every move, still unused to showing vulnerability after all those years. 

“I suppose you don’t want to talk about it.” 

“No. I do not.” 

“Does it concern the children?” 

“Do not speak of them as if they were your own.” 

Ah. So that was what it was about. 

You pressed a lubed finger to his entrance, easing one in. You decided you wanted to rile him up. “They’re not my children, naturally. But they might as well be yours.” 

Mihawk’s eyes had widened a fraction, almost in anger, but then you had pressed your finger directly into his prostate, and he had shuddered with a sharp hiss of your name, all words lost. You continued to lazily rub the spot you knew too well after years of practice, watching as he bit his lip to stop the small breathy moans from spilling out. 

“Y’know what, love? I have the perfect thing for this occasion.” You pulled out your finger, and his gaze had immediately snapped to yours with a deep frown, silently questioning why. 

“I do not wish to indulge in any of your shenanigans—” 

You reached into the cupboard to pull out a bottle of fine wine, one you had made yourself since your stay at Kuraigana Island. “You were saying?” 

Mihawk cleared his throat, looking away. “I will indulge you this once.” 

You grinned triumphantly, settling back between his spread thighs and shamelessly staring at his hard-on, which rested on his stomach with a pretty flush. You pressed one finger back into him carefully, adding one more for the stretch before popping open the cork, taking a swig of the wine as the smallest sip drenched your mouth with a taste so bitter and divine. 

Distracted, you hadn’t realised when Mihawk had begun rolling his hips back against your fingers, wanting to take it deeper, but his ego forbade him from asking. 

“Patience, darling,” you muttered, curling your fingers and enjoying the way his breath stuttered. 

“I’m ready. Put it in.” 

You chuckled at his stubbornness, knowing he was nowhere near ready before taking another drink and leaning down to capture his lips. Mihawk parted them without much thought—a result of conditioning over the years, maybe, and the wine trickled from your tongue into his mouth. 

He made a little noise of surprise before swallowing harshly, tongue lightly pressing against yours, subtly asking for more. You allowed it, letting him explore you as he wished, but keeping the pace slow and languorous as your fingers continued to scissor and stretch him open. 

Mihawk looked dazed when you finally parted, a light blush riding high on his cheekbones, his lips red and kiss-bitten. 

“How is it?” 

“Horrible,” he muttered, and his tongue briefly darted out to lick the corner of his mouth, as though he wanted to chase the aftertaste. 

“You seem to like it enough.” 

His bottom lip pressed up, and if you didn’t know your husband any better you would have thought he was sulking. You shared another wine-drenched kiss, adding a third finger before he started to get impatient, wrenching his mouth away from yours. 

He grabbed your wrist. “Put it in,” he demanded breathily.

“Aye, sir,” you teased, slathering your length with lube before lining up and pushing inside. 

Mihawk had made a noise between a gasp and a mewl, fingers fisting into the bed sheets as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes. His hole stretched deliciously tight around your cock, warm and wet with the squelch of lube, and you stifled a groan, stopping to let him get adjusted to the size. 

What you didn’t expect was how strong legs suddenly locked around your waist, forcing you all the way in in one go. “Mihawk—!” White hot pleasure surged up your spine as your knees trembled from how hard you were trying not to hold back and not blindly thrust into him. 

“Be quiet,” he rasped, and you looked down to see him with his head thrown back to bare his pretty neck, body trembling in an arch, face flushed and heaving with breath. No matter how many times you had done this before, it was always a sight to see the Greatest Swordsman in the World being reduced to a debauched mess at your touch. 

You felt a smug grin creep onto your face. “Too much?” 

“No. Move.” 

“Fine with me.” Throwing his legs over your shoulder, you rammed back into tight heat, making him throw out his arms for balance with a yelp. 

“Reckless, hn, as ever—” 

“That’s why you married me, love.” The soles of his feet dug into your neck as you set a punishing pace, driving little noises out of him as you railed him into the mattress. "Playing safe is rather boring, don't you think?"

He narrowed his gaze with disapproval, but made no further comment, only able to suck in quiet shaky breaths to keep up with you.

And yes, this was good, but it wasn’t enough. Didn’t feel like real sex. You wanted to hear more. 

You stopped all of a sudden, and Mihawk let out a frustrated growl, his hips bucking back against your cock as though trying to fuck himself on it. Pressing a hand on his stomach to force him to stay put, you retrieved the wine bottle from the nightstand and poured it all over his chest, the liquid messily splashing onto skin. 

“What are you—!” 

You leaned down to take a nipple into your mouth, lips wrapping around it to suck hard while your tongue licked up the sweet, puckery wine. At the same time, you started to grind your hips against him, the blunt head of your cock massaging places inside him that sent stars clouding at the edges of his vision. Mihawk tightened around you, letting out a whine—an actual, unrestrained one. 

It was music to your ears. 

You continued to lick and suck at his chest until every single drop of wine had been cleaned from him, and he had fisted a hand into your hair, grasping at the strands painfully, whether trying to press harder or pull you away—you couldn’t tell. 

“Haah, that’s enough!” 

“So pretty,” you murmured, ignoring him as you bit into his chest, making him cry out. “No one’s seen you like this before.” 

“I’ll slit your throat, y/n.” 

You simply smirked. “Did I ever tell you that dishing out death threats in the middle of sex is a huge turn on for me?” 

“Not threats. They're promises if you keep this up.” 

“Alright, fine.” You reeled back only to start fucking your cock into him again, head turning to kiss at his sensitive inner thigh hooked over your shoulder. It started off with lazy grinding, until you started to angle your hips to hit a mouth-watering spot inside him, harder, faster, better. 

Mihawk glared at you weakly as he endured your thrusts, letting out breathy whines as you took and took and took from him, every piece of the wall he had built around himself slowly crumbling down to nothing. 

You started to pound into him even harder, arms wrapping around his thighs to thrust his hole back against you, the filthy, loud slapping of skin against skin echoing in the room. Mihawk had seized up with a choked whine all of a sudden, eyes wide as he realised that the kids might hear, but you ignored him, knowing far too well that Zoro and Perona were at the other side of the castle and in their respective rooms. 

“They won’t hear. Now louder.” 

Mihawk only shook his head weakly, knowing that only moans and other desperate noises would come out if he opened his mouth to answer. He was barely able to focus on you now, his eyes blinking half-open and closing, mind-blown with pleasure. 

“You asked for a diversion. I’m giving you one, but not without payment,” you mumbled. “So let me hear you, love.” 

This was enough to make his lips part, and you drove forward to nail directly into his prostate, making him whine your name, wrecked. 

“More,” you gasped, drinking in the noise. “I want more.”

“Touch—touch me.” 

“No. Want you to cum on my cock only. Can you do that? Please?” 

Mihawk only gritted his teeth together, otherwise too tired to fight your demands, and the alcohol—although only a few sips—was getting to his head, making him looser, less defiant. He was now panting openly into the air, almost drooling, too fucked out to stifle his moans or straighten his lewd expression, only able to lie there and take it, the distraction that he had asked for. 

You were getting close, and by the way his hole spasmed around you with every thrust, you knew he had already been a long time ago. 

Leaning forward to almost bend him in half, you mindlessly muttered praises into his ear, “So fucking good, gorgeous, you’re so strong, so good f’me—” 

That did the trick, and then he was cumming and falling apart in your arms, back pulled taut like a string and eyes rolling back with a rare shout of your name. His hole tightened around you like a vice, making your hips stutter to a sudden stop. You choked on a moan, pivoting your hips to drive against his prostate one last time before blinding white utterly consumed your vision. 

When you came to be, you had collapsed on top of him, no longer inside, and it took a hand carding through your hair to pull you back to reality. It was dirty, with ropes of cum smushed against your cheek and sweat clinging on to every inch of your bodies, but Mihawk was there, his heart beating warm and alive underneath you, and it felt so right. 

“Thank you,” you heard him whisper faintly. 

You stopped his hand, bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to the ring there. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I didn’t do it out of obligation.” 

“I know.” 

You hummed. “And I understand that maybe you aren’t ready to recognise that you have become… some sort of parental figure to them,” you breathed, choosing your words carefully, “but I do wish that you could see how much they value and trust in you.” 

“I know,” he repeated. And then a more quiet, “They’re yours, too.” 

Oh. 

You raised your head to look at him in question, only to find him facing the side, pink dusted on his cheeks. 

“I… am inebriated. You are taking advantage of an inebriated man.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” you protested. 

Laughing at his embarrassment, you leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, finding a taste not even the sweetest of wines could replicate seeping into your body, of finely-aged love.  masterlist! # getting his characterisation right was the hard part. @/anon who wanted a needy mihawk, hope this suffices <3