#idv jose baden

[otakusparkle]

3 days left to your birthday! Let’s celebrate together~

[corruptedroses]

— For the Thrill of it

Fandom —  Identity V Pairing — First Officer | Jose Baden/transmasc! reader Summary —  He can never seem to keep his hands off of you, even in those hot, sticky moments of a game. Content Warnings — reader is pre-op, fingering, gentle dirty talk Word Count — 2.04k Author's note — Same commissioner as "To Indulge in Treasure"

Time never seemed to pass in the manor the same way; some days were longer, some days were shorter, and sometimes you didn’t get to see the sun at all. What remained consistent with the outside world that you knew and loved, however, was the summer months seemed to come just as quickly. Games became longer as survivors and hunters alike would attempt to find shade, modesty was considered inappropriate in favour of keeping cool.

Yet you were doing anything other than keeping cool, especially when José was around. The thundering heartbeat of a hunter had forced the two of you to hide in the locker you were in now, forced to stare out as the chase had begun.

Yet his hands had never stopped wandering over your body, your waist, your thighs, his gaze never faltering as he began to devour you with his mouth, fingers slowly beginning to inch under.

“Won’t they hear us in here?” You whispered, your blood already beginning to pulse deep in your veins as it migrated south, a place where José seemed very keen to keep against his knee.

“Only if you’re loud.”

His hands were already up your shirt as he spoke, your eyes peering out of the slats to watch as Joseph chased one of your friends around the ruins that lived in the Sacred Heart Hospital. Between José’s heavy breaths and the way he dragged his knee across your throbbing, dripping core, shorts having already been pulled down to expose you, your own breath was unsteady, hands weaving themselves into Jose’s hair as he peppered small kisses down your neck.

Even in the thrall of danger, this man could not resist groping at your chest. He needed his hands on you constantly, he needed to touch you, taste you, feel you, even if it meant risking the two of you being hurt — or killed, whichever came first.

His libido was one that could never be satiated, one that could never be tamed, yet that was what you had come to love about your darling sailor as he held you close, sticky, sweaty skin pressing against sticky sweaty skin. The locker was oddly cool for the day, even as the sun bared down its rays against the metal that had burned your hand as the two of you forced yourselves in, but yet even that was thrown into the back of your mind as you allowed your legs to spread slightly more, letting his body slot more against your own.

“Hate it that you’re wearing this,” José couldn’t help but mutter against your skin, his fingers beginning to slowly inch the shirt that you wore up and up, exposing your skin slowly as he growled, “This is another man’s shirt.”

“August was the only one to let me borrow one and he can at least fit me.” It wasn’t like many of the survivors owned crop tops and singlets often, and if they did it was probably something that was more akin to a piece of lingerie. Your darling knew this, of course, being one of the people who did not own a single piece other than a long-sleeved shirt, but yet his eyes darkened at being able to smell the other man on you, almost as if he was trying to mark you for himself.

“He won’t mind if it comes back dirty, won’t he?” It wasn’t even a question to you as he forced the singlet off your body, his hands coming to your chest as he fondled and squeezed at the mounds that always caught his interest, “I much rather them free, handsome men don’t need shirts after all.” Even if the locker was far too small to even consider the possibility of turning around, it didn’t deter him from leaving bites along your skin, your nipples being brushed against callouses as he squeezed and caressed and held them.

Your forehead pressed against the cool wall of the locker, letting out little gasps and grunts as you ground down on his knee, needing the friction, needing to find the release that had you practically drooling across his knee. Your hand slowly travelled down, fingers wetting themselves with you as you slowly began to circle your clit, feeling the way your legs jolted with each circle, each brush.

Yet the moans that wanted to escape died into a silent scream as a sword pierced between the slats right in front of your eyes, José’s own movements pausing as the two of you watched the sword, watched the Frenchmen outside as he grunted and groaned, a sizeable welt already blooming across the middle of his face.

“Take that, you fucking bitch!” Ganji’s thick accent echoed through the silence, the distant sound of a cipher popping being the only other thing heard as a crack echoed through the air, what seemed to be a ball knocking Joseph upside the head before you heard Ganji begin to run away.

“Why do they give the survivors bats?” You could hear the Frenchman grumble as the sword exited the locker, your back pressing firmly up against José behind you as to avoid being nicked by its blade, “Martha was bad enough with her…” his words trailed off as the man began to talk in French, watching as the blue coat began to walk off, his fancy shoes crunching the dirt underneath him as he turned the corner.

You only relaxed the moment you couldn’t hear the ramblings anymore, your head tilting backwards against José shoulder, his hands still firmly on your chest. “Thought he heard us.”

“So did I…”

As the silence passed, you broke out into snickers first, your snickers turning into snorts as you processed what had just happened. “Imagine if he had found us.” You laughed, your hair sticking to your neck as you nuzzled into his shoulder, “Would’ve been so mortifying.”

“I think he’d pass out on the spot seeing how lucky I got to get booty like this.” You couldn’t help but groan as Jose pressed a kiss against your temple, yet his hands didn’t stop wandering, pushing your shorts further down your thighs as he nuzzled and kissed you, “we should probably get this over with, Helena is the one doing the ciphers after all.”

Oh, Christ, you had forgotten about Helena; the woman was probably beginning to brew her anger faster than her fingers would fly on that keyboard… and her cane would certainly fly true if she was made to decode more than three ciphers. Ganji was probably in a similar boat considering that man had been running around the hunter for a while now. With the way José’s chest rumbled, you knew that he was thinking the same thing, feeling the way his metal hand pulled away to shove down his pants enough to free his aching cock, feeling the way it pressed up against your ass with a soft slap.

“Yeah, probably should finish before Helena decides to come and find us.” Was all you were able to force out before he effortlessly slid into you, taking a deep breath through your nose as you powered through the stretch that always came with him. It never became any easier to accept him, it never became any easier to keep your noise down when he would sheath himself to the hilt. You could feel his pulse, his vein that rubbed against your wall, you could feel the way his pubic hair brushed against your skin.

It was like he fit there like a perfect piece.

“Feel so good,” he muttered, placing kisses up the back of your neck as he stilled, drinking in the moment with the way his eyes burned themselves into the back of your head, “taking me in so good, baby boy.” You braced your hands against the metal, feeling the way his hips began to slowly rut into you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he panted. Even if the summer heat was unbearable, the heat was emitted from the pleasure that sparked within you. His face found your neck, nose scraping the jawline of your head as the soft squelch of your joining filled the locker with your pants and grunts, fingers struggling to find purchase on the locker’s wall as your fingers curled into your palms, letting your hips move back towards his with each thrust.

“Do I hear something over here?”

José’s hips paused for a second as the accented man of the Frenchman returned, Joseph’s blue coat coming in front of the locker again. One hand slowly moved up your body until it was firm against your mouth, the sailor’s eyes joining yours in starring out the slats at the man that slowly spun around, sword glittering in the sunlight.

You wanted to tell your dear lover that he shouldn’t dare, but yet the man did so anyway, his hips slowly grinding against your ass as he kept a firm hand over your mouth, feeling the singlet that had been shoved over your chest be pulled backwards. The man must be trying to gag himself too, especially with the small pants that came out of his mouth as he kept moving.

“I swore…”

‘No, you didn’t hear anything.’ You answered the man’s curiosity in your mind, nails beginning to dig down into your palms as José’s cold, metallic hand came to between your legs, softly beginning to swirl the bud between them. You were going to kill this man when the two of you were out of here and this game. Even if it felt good, even if it was something that made your skin prickle as you felt that familiar coil turn, and turn, and turn, there was a fine line between hiding and most likely getting stabbed by a Frenchman.

And you swore you couldn’t tell if the pink on his cheeks was because of the heat or possibly hearing you, but yet as the Frenchman’s eyes met the locker, swearing that they met yours at that moment, it was like time stood still.

“I must be hearing things.”

The sound of a cipher popping in the distance was enough to draw the man away, what self restraint your partner had seeming to fade once the danger had passed as his hips suddenly began to drill hard and deep, depriving your lungs of oxygen as each thrust was more powerful than the last. The power of an adrenaline-filled man, the power of a man who wanted to see you meet your own end.

“Come on, give me one big one.” He muttered against your ear once the singlet fell back against your back, fingers working double time to his thrusts, the one on your mouth coming back to your chest as he pinched and pulled at one of your nipples, his own pants hard and fast. “Need to feel you milk me.”

Lord have mercy, the time you wanted to bury your face in his pecs and you couldn’t, your forehead meeting the locker wall as you panted and moaned, feeling as your pulsating walls tightened around the man. If he wanted a big one, a big one he shall get. Using the remaining self-control of your own body, you grabbed José’s frizzed hair and pulled him in for a kiss, turning your neck at an uncomfortable angle just so he could swallow your moans, your own slick staining the front of his pants as you came hard and fast, legs trembling as you rode out your high.

“Fuck.” Was whispered against your lips, feeling the way he pulsed and throbbed just prior to pulling out, clenching around nothing as he soon met his own end, hearing him pump his cock the last few times before he released. “Sorry…” Looking down in between your legs, your brow furrowed as you noted the streaks of white that decorated the material.

“That’s going to be a mess to clean…”

A loud bang resounded through the locker in that moment, a pair of familiar, unfocused eyes staring in your general direction, Helena’s cane raised at the ready.

“The game ended two minutes ago and I could hear you from the other side of the ruins!”

So much for hiding.

[ariesstarram]

You ever get those matches when you play rescuer And your forced to decode because survivors are stealing your rescues and die while doing so...and you already want the match to be over.

[badlandsbandit]

A little doodle of (what I think) a Genshin-esque Jose design could be!

[ithaquasbbg]

Could I maybe request headcanons or a one shot (up to you!) for Jose x a Male reader who is completely head over heels obsessed with him (not in a creepy way, just in really in love) and always hangs around him?

Hi:)) yes I can

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Jose Baden | First officer w/ an adoring s/o Headcanons

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Tw: none

Extra: The fact the reader is male doesn’t come up too much here, but definitely can be read as such. (I always accidentally default to gender neutral readers, sorry :(()

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|🩷| Jose as a partner seems like the type to want to flaunt it in general, for people to know that he’s with somebody else. Because of this, he’d likely not be embarrassed at all by having you around, if anything he’d be happy about it!

|🩷| He’s not a person unused to adoration especially with the status he previously had. However, after the incident with his father occurred he hasn’t gotten much in the way of it. It’s like dusting off an old book, give him a moment and he’ll be all over it.

|🩷| Jose is a teasing person, and would certainly have his fun when it comes to joking about your attachment to him. Addressing you randomly in order to get you closer to him. (Bonus points if you’re easily flustered..)

“(Name), love, come here.” Jose motions for you to stand next to him, quickly taking your hand in his once you get close enough to do so. “Everybody already knows that you love me, why not show it off?”

|🩷| In a way he’s likely comforted by the fact you want to stay near him, since it makes watching over you and protecting you easier (doesn’t matter if you can hold your own in a fight, Jose still wants to be your “knight in shining armor” so to speak.

|🩷| Tries to include you in the stuff he does. Certainly it can’t be very fun watching from a distance, no?

|🩷| Even if you’re fine just watching, he likes to know that you have the option to do what you’d want as well. He is a thoughtful person, though occasionally his pride keeps him from showing it in other ways.

|🩷| If you follow him around in matches he’d likely get a little worried, and would much rather be the one following you in case something went wrong.

|🩷| Jose’s pride makes him embarrassed at the mere thought of you saving him, which likely happens quite often due to the amount of time you spend with him.

|🩷| Sort of like an Ada-Emil in game dynamic, being able to kite longer if together ect.. There’s certainly benefits to you two constantly accompanying each other.

|🩷| He takes a lot of time to make sure you know your feelings for him are reciprocated. Jose strikes me as the type to be very into words of affirmation, perhaps with a side of physical touch.

|🩷| Tries to teach you to do the things he does, that way you can spend more time with him without feeling awkward.

|🩷| Given the amount of time you’re around him, you likely pick up the little things he enjoys. Things like favorite foods! Whether or not you or somebody else cooks it, he’d appreciate the fact that you care for him enough to remember something like that!

[sirenjose]

C-tier skins

While I set up, I figure before I even do any analyses, I’ll do a few tiny posts to get myself comfortable.

Anyone notice how some of the c-tiers in game that are quite sad?

Honestly, essentially all of Luca’s c-tiers are really sad. There’s Moldy Bread, who hints at the sort of food Luca was forced to eat in prison, as well as Yellow Wall, which talks about all he could really do there was stare at the walls. And Gray Coating literally talks about the chance of dying: “If you're lucky, touching it with your bare hands it will make you itch all over. If not, you might die.”

There’s Emily’s Calm Yellow, which speaks for itself: “I've become so numb to death for I have seen so many.”

Emil’s Gray Brown likely talks about his time when he was forced to dog fight: “Gazing at this damp and tiny cage with bound wrists, year after year... What's next?”

Jose’s White Sail (“What colour will the white sail be when it returns from the voyage?”) and Black Mast (”The straight and sturdy mast delivers victorious news.”) are also gloomy if you know the meaning behind it. These should be referencing Theseus, who had promised his father to have white sails raised if he was victorious against the Minotaur, and black sails should he fail or perish. Despite being successful, he forgot his promise and mistakenly used black sails. His father, thinking his son had died, killed himself out of sorrow.

Now Jose’s father would not be one to do such a thing, considering he doesn’t really love his son (he sees him as an object), but this is still applicable to Jose. Because of Jose’s... “mistake”, it did lead to his father’s death. And Jose’s ONCE skin (Departure Date) does confirm that, had Jose just been on that ship, his father would still be around. So, instead of Theseus’s father being sad, it’s more referring to Jose himself, who we know is definitely upset over his mistakebased on 1 of his previous IDVJP twitter responses about his ONCE Skin: 

What good am I now? Don't flatter me... I was confident in my skills...as a navigator... That's why...I was so conceited... That day...if only I hadn't made that mistake... You mean to tell me that I could have led my father in the right direction? That instead of disappearing with the ship...I would have saved them? That's not...it's just...ugh...aaa... (´⊗ ⸍⸌Ⓑ `) I can’t...I can't take it...

[willnaib]

and the good 2023 stuff as well

[teddybugr]

Idv doodles! :3

[boris-surov]

Happy birthday dad!!!!!

[bloodencrustedfritter]

gayest pirate in the land and sea

[holyraviolidud]

[otakusparkle]

Identity V New Costume Release

First Officer (Jose Baden) S-Tier Costume Poster Preview

[corruptedroses]

— To Indulge in Treasure

Fandom —  Identity V Pairing — First Officer | Jose Baden/transmasc! masculine! reader Summary —  sticky, muddy and full of adrenaline, Jose barely gets you in the door before your clothes are coming off Content Warnings — reader is pre op, fingering, gentle dirty talk (to my transmasc readers; there is no actual description of your body parts but more alluding to said parts/non gendered terms are used.) Word Count — 3k Author's note — a commission!! I really enjoyed working on this one.

Manor games were never easy, they were never designed to be easy. Rough, tough, you needed to be strong of mind and body if you wanted to make it through. Your pants were covered in mud, able to smell the murky lake water in your clothes as you and Jose slowly trudged up the never-ending path to the manor, each bit of your body as filthy as José Baden’s was. You were probably dirtying up his coat’s warm inside from where it draped over your chilled form, but yet you couldn’t take it off with the way he held you close.

You could hear his heartbeat, hammering away in his chest, strong, hard, one that made his hand only grip tighter against your shoulder as he dragged you along. He wanted you in his room, in his bed, he wanted to claim you over and over again — it was the formula you were used to from the many, many games that the two of you would play. If you weren’t in it, he would still be riled up all the same. “Hastur played a dirty game,” You tried to break the tension, trying to ignore the equally aching need that throbbed between your legs, “I swear I wouldn’t have made it out if it hadn’t been for Naib.”

“You held your own, I’m very proud of you.” Even if José pretended to have his composure in check, there was nothing that could conceal the officer’s need and want for your body.

Speaking of the Mercenary, he was trudging behind the two of you as well, his hood pulled over his eyes to block out the sun that shone down onto the muddy road. When the sun decided to show itself in Britain, it surely loved to be a menace. You knew the mud was beginning to dry on your clothes by now, that you would have to hand wash them to get all the flaky earth off, but as feet thundered up the path you looked over your shoulder to stare at Freddy, the lawyer’s eyes narrowing as he slowed down to match the pace of the rest of the group.

“You left me behind!”

“We thought you died, Riley.”

You had long since learned how to tune out the senseless bickering that would come from having certain survivors work together, letting it become distant noise as you settled your head on your lover’s shoulder. “Your legs wobbling?” His voice whispered into your ear, his goatee brushing against the rim of your ear as you shook your head. “Shame,” he muttered, his tongue clicking in his mouth, “I guess I’ll have to make them wobble then.”

If the sun was hot, your face was hotter still. That heat crept down your neck, under your collar, and across your entire body as you allowed those words to settle deep within your skull. With a hiss of his name and a soft slap against his chest, the officer gave a hearty laugh as his hand wandered down your arm, his fingers likely caked with mud and grime as they came to grasp at your waist, his thumb rubbing circles against the flesh through your shirt.

“We’re in front of people.” You whispered back, your breath hitching in your nose as his fingers slowly trailed underneath your shirt, skin against skin. You probably felt dirty. “What if they see?”

“Not like they don’t go fucking each other when they think they’re alone.” Oh, that was defiantly true considering the manor had thrown caution to the window in terms of getting their rocks off. One person would be fucking everyone, and another would be fucking only one person, but it was still the same in the end. “Need to be buried deep into you.”

“Wait until we are alone.” Almost as if on cue, the last turn was the one that let the manor come back into full view, looming over the players as they trudged to the front doors, being met by one of the butlers as the mud was dragged up the stairs.

One minute you were removing your shoes at the front door, the next you found yourself slammed against the closed door of your room, legs hooked around the waist of the First Officer as he held you close. He always had that effect, making you forget anything that wasn’t him, making him overwhelming, and powerful in every aspect. Arms, strong from his time on boats and helping at docks, held you up without an issue, held you against the door in a cage of limbs as his lips danced across your sweaty neck. The heat of the sun was nothing compared to the heat that was shared between your bodies, your fingers gripping at his muddy shirt as he let himself explore skin already so familiar.

He knew your body like the back of his hand, a treasure map that he always explored despite the fact everything had been plundered, he was someone who always came back, always knew that there was more for him to find, more for him to take. He stole your breath and kept it in a pocket of the jacket that had long since fluttered to the floor.

And his eyes may as well send you to Davey Jones’ locker now, as you were drowning in them.

“Seeing you run that overgrown squid…” he muttered softly against your neck, his hair tickling at you as he spoke, “It was hot, almost wanted to fuck you right in front of him, show him how handsome you are.” His metal hand was cold against your skin as he shoved it down the back of your pants to cup at your rear. Feel you, hold you, touch you, he wanted to devour you whole with the way he held you, stripped you. You never felt anything beyond perfect under his gaze and you felt like he was the only one in the room.

“Can I remove this?” He gently asked in your ear, his free hand coming to tug at the hem of your shirt. Always seeking your comfort, even if you could feel his hardened cock through his pants. Nodding your head, the sailor only chuckled in response, “Need to hear your voice, Cariño.”

“Please.”

“Much better.” Your shirt was whisked off faster than it fluttered to the floor, José’s mouth coming to explore the freshly revealed skin. Each kiss, touch, and brush of his lips against your skin had you breaking out in goosebumps. To have a partner, to have one that made you the centre of his world, even with the adrenaline pumping hard and fast through your veins, you swore it made your head spin, it made you swoon all over again like the first day you had met him. Yet this was now, and this was a moment of burning desire.

“So gorgeous,” the man muttered, his lips barely grazing your nipple, “and all mine. This gorgeous, handsome man is all mine.”

The door lightly knocked against you as José adjusted his grip on your body, your own hands coming to unbutton and rid him of his shirt, watching the way his sweat-slicked skin graced the light, the scars of his own trials mapping out a familiar sight on his skin. The man that you loved, the man that you trusted, he may want you as a hole to fuck at this moment, but he was the man you adored. “Need you, badly.” You barely were able to mutter as he lightly bit at your skin, feeling the way his teeth sank deep enough to leave an indent in the flesh, yet not enough to break the skin. “Bed, now.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.” Even if you could feel him rut against your ass at the concept of being deep inside of you. Yet the concept of the bed nearby was not ignored, finding yourself bouncing on the plush sheets with a startled gasp, your familiar scent filling your senses as the man above you laughed. “You should have seen your face.”

“Very funny, Jo-.” And yet he stole your breath again, fingers pressing against the part of you that needed him most, his skilled fingers knowing your body well, knowing that with such a soft touch it had you sighing through your teeth. If he had wished you to be quiet, he might as well say it but yet there was something about the way he felt you through your pants, placing kisses on your fingers as they came to cup at his face.

“Pants?” A request, one that didn’t need to be said more than one word, but your came to unbuckle and unzip the offending material, José took his time to take off the clothing. You could see him, tented up against the crotch of his pants, but yet as he kept his eyes on you, those lovely, stormy eyes dancing across your face for any sign of discomfort, you knew that he was the man you wanted to die with. “I was wondering where my underwear went.” His fingers came to stroke at the material, eyes crinkling with amusement, “maybe I should steal yours as well.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” His arms would break your shirts no problem if he even thought about trying them on, but yet he only grinned as his fingers breached under the waistband, feeling against your throbbing need. Yep, he wanted you to shut up and he was going to do it while making sure you were prepped. What a scoundrel.

A scoundrel, a fiend, a man who wished to see you wither underneath him, José Baden’s face was so easy to read as he played you like the strings of a guitar, his fingers sliding around easily, in you, around your hole, his face not even needing to see what he was doing as he peppered kisses around the underside of your chest.

Yet hearing pants of breath and whimpers was not enough, he needed to make you sing.

“Come on,” His voice so tender and sweet, “don’t you wish to guide me?” He did not need to be guided, he did not need to be instructed, but yet those sweet words in an accent of land that he missed so dearly were echoing through your head, one that put you under that spell. As you muttered how you wanted him to touch you, feel you, your mouth coming to bite at the skin of your hand tenderly, you could see the way his smirk turned into a grin. “That’s my good boy.” As his lips sealed against yours in a kiss, he stole your moans, claiming them into his mouth. His fingers worked, prepped, and lit up nerves that you wouldn’t have known existed if it hadn’t been for his loving touch.

But José could only grow so long before his own need became primal in his mind; he needed you to be around him, squeeze him, hold him in your flesh, in your blood, he wanted to know that he would be the only man that would be able to touch you like this, explore the depths of you like this, and he couldn’t help but have his cock throb at the idea. He was yours, he was always going to be yours. He wanted you to remember it, remember that his fingers made you feel like this, remember that it was him after those matches that fucked all those tense and sore muscles away.

That’s why he couldn’t make you cum yet, he wouldn’t allow himself to let you cum from just his fingers alone. He needed to see you come undone around him, his cock, his everything. He could feel you clenching around his fingers as he slid two in, trying to draw him in and suck him deeper, but yet that wasn’t enough.

Withdrawing his fingers, hearing your displeased cries, he had your underwear off faster than you could even ask for him to keep going, forcing his own to gather around his thighs, giving his cock one, two pumps of his long, thick cock.

“José.” You whined, feeling the way his hands spread your legs, his fingers long and rough as they dug into the flesh of your thighs. You needed him, wanted him, watching the way his brow knitted together as he took the time to soak in your body. Perfect, handsome, you were everything and more to him at that moment. He wanted to keep the moment etched into his brain forever, to soak in the entirety of your body, your expression, your aura.

And you were all his for the taking.

“Soon, sailor, soon.” He muttered, your legs pushed towards your chest, exposing the hole that he would soon find himself in. So gorgeous, all his, his mouth slowly began to drool at the sight. “All mine.”

And he was all yours, heart, mind and soul. José guided himself slowly into your needy hole, the Spanish man hissing at the feeling you pressed all around him; so warm, so hot, you fit him so perfectly, like you were made for him and he was made for you, squeezing him, allowing him into the most private parts of you, he couldn’t help but sigh as he slowly came to the hilt, taking that moment to savour your face, see the way he lit your nerves aflame. Skin to skin, pulse to pulse, this is where he wanted to be.

His lips met your pulse point on your neck, giving it a gentle kiss as he withdrew his hips for the first time, leaving you near empty except for the head of his cock that hung inside before pushing himself fully inside, enough that it pushed the air from your lungs. He was snug, he was in you, and yet despite the firm and rhythmic thrusts into you, into your core, he spent the time muttering things into your neck, things that no doubt would have your toes curling if him fucking you into the mattress wasn’t enough.

“I want your voice to scream for me, my darling.” A stripe up your neck was licked, his air of whisky and salt hanging high in your senses as your fingers began to make their mark across his back, beautiful marks that he would show off in pride, ones that would show others that you were his. “I want the entire manor to shake with how much I love you.” Your body, your voice, you, you as a whole, you drove him wild, you drove him to the brink.

He needed to hear you sing his name, praise him to the stars that brought you to him. He needed to make sure that you would never crave another. You were addicting, a drug he could not leave, and yet as he once more stole your love, your attention, your soul as he held you close within the sheets of your bed. “Please.” You couldn’t help but beg each time he left you void, you could barely say anything else, chant anything else other than his name.

And that was the only name he ever wanted to hear from your lips.

As your body curled into him, wanting to be closer, his metal hand wove his fingers into your hair, gripping it tight. Be it tied up, let down, or around your hair in a halo, his fingers would always find their way to your hair, eager to hold it, control it, and use it to angle your head up. His lips could not be stopped, his temptations were unable to be quenched as he needed to see your neck peppered in those purple and blue hues that would indicate you were his, that you were spoken for. Teeth, lips, tongue, pounding you as the sound of your joining echoed in the room, he knew that he would not last long.

When it was with you, you always made him wish that it could last until the world went dark. You felt too good around him, your gasps and moans were like a heaven’s choir in his ear, he wanted to forever remain in your embrace, in your arms, in your mind, but yet all good things had to end.

“Cum for me, vida mia.” To feel you come undone, to feel your walls flutter around him as he stroked at your twitching bundle of nerves, it was heaven to the brunette, heaven to feel you clamp around him, cum around him. He was the one who had done that, he was the one who had made you feel this high.

He was the centre of your world as you lived out that high.

Pulling out and giving himself the final few pumps, he joined you in that afterglow as he allowed himself to spill over your skin, watching as his essence coated your lower stomach. Sweat, and musk, it surrounded the two of you in a cloud of peace as you both panted, chests heaving as you struggled to catch your breaths.

Yet it was José to break the tranquillity first, his laughter softly filling the space as his brows crinkled.

“What, is there something on my face?”

“Indeed there is.” Bringing his hand to your face, you watched as he wiped something underneath your eye, bringing it into your view to show the murky, brown sludge dripping down his hand. “You had some mud on your face.” You could feel your face burn as he pulled away long enough to grab his shirt, the outside caked with mud and grime and yet the inside clean enough to wipe away the remains of the match and him off your skin, his touch as gentle as his gaze as he wiped. “Still the most handsome man, even dirty as you were.”

“How about a bath? We both need it.”

How could he say no to someone like you?

[bloodyepitah]

IDENTITY V COA MATCHING ICONS 🎆

REBLOG if you USE.

feel free to request!

[badlandsbandit]

I think he’d play the bass guitar

[ithaquasbbg]

would it be ok to request a one shot with jose x reader x joseph? (as in theyre all together not a love triangle haha)

I’ve never written a poly relationship before, but I will try!

Mon Cher - Joseph & Jose x reader

Pairing : Jose x Reader x Joseph

Tw: none

….

You lay in bed, hands running through the blonde hair of your boyfriend, who currently has no desire to move from where he’s laying on top of you. Though It doesn’t take long for him to jolt up at the sound of the door opening, Jose walking in with a tired expression on his face. “Long day?” You ask, hearing him give a half hearted laugh in response, walking over to the attached bathroom and turning on the shower. “Every day in this manor is long, (name)”

Jose isn’t wrong, on days when anyone has a lot of matches, it’s normal to wish it all to be over sooner. You feel Joseph get up off of you, watching as he walks over and hugs Jose from behind, hands running through the sailors hair just as yours had been doing previously. “Rough matches, Mon Cher?” He asks, to which Jose nods as he wriggles out of the Frenchman’s arms, stepping into the shower.

When he finally comes back out and sits in bed with you and Joseph, who had laid back down, right on your chest to your own dismay, he leans into your shoulder, half asleep already. “Our prince can’t do his own hair?” He asks you, laughing at the way Joseph’s cheeks flush a bright red in response, a string of curses you can’t quite understand flowing out of his mouth as Jose laughs, leaning in and planting a kiss on his forehead.

Slowly, you feel his arms wrap around you as he too joins in playing with Joseph’s hair, kissing your cheek with a smile. “Have you eaten yet today, (name)?” He asks, to which you nod, smiling and leaving a kiss on his cheek as well. “Yes, I have eaten. Have you had time to yet?” He shakes his head, groaning at the thought.

You immediately get up with a smile, leaving a kiss on Joseph’s head as he grumbles, obviously having been almost asleep right before. “I’ll grab you something real quick then, love, one moment.” He nods and wraps his arms around the blonde who’s glaring at you, grabbing his chin and turning it towards him as you leave.

When you get back with a bowl of soup, both of your boyfriends are sound asleep, hugging each other tightly. With a sigh, you put the bowl on the nightstand next to the bed and slide under the covers yourself, leaving a kiss on both of their cheeks before you lie down, falling asleep with your arms around the two.

….

Super super short, but I tried 🥹 I hope it is okay.