#steadily getting more wholesome

[loupy-mongoose]

I was looking at my big ol men's jacket that I bought for myself, and realized...

I haven't drawn Akoya in Randy's clothes yet.

So I felt a mighty need to change that. XD

[nonbinarypirat]

physical affection and how it relates to iruma: part 1, parental touch

iruma reads as someone who is touch starved and doesn't like/understand touch until he now has affectionate people in his life. His parents have probably never touched him besides the required amount when he was a baby and maybe a headpat or quick hug (which would more than likely just be a manipulation tactic to get him to do their crazy schemes). They left him alone for days on end, there's no way they even could have been affectionate with him. And it's not like he ever went to school, his "friends" at school couldn't even remember him because of how many days he missed.

Overall, Iruma reads as touch starved but doesn't know he's missing it since he never had it to begin with. Here comes the love trio, the misfit class, Balam and more. Suddenly he has a lot of people in his life who are comfortable with touching him, even want to as a sign of how close they are. And we can see iruma very much becomes happy with it in turn.

That's why Balam and iruma's relationship is important, a parental type person he trusts is actively choosing to be affectionate with him, not to manipulate him but just because he cares about iruma. He even told him the reason is just to bond and get to know iruma, not some sort of underhanded method. This is just Balam's way of connecting. And they are close to each other enough to be comfortable in each other's spaces. Whether Iruma reads balam as a parent or not, balam is very much like a momma bird, keeping him close and safe in his arms. And Iruma becomes more open to it as time goes on with them knowing more about the other.

This is also a great dynamic because balam gives him the affection that he doesn't recieve from kalego, someone he clearly holds in high regard. Almost every time iruma reflects on the people that matter the most to him, kalego is there. which i find fascinating because what is kalego to iruma? on a subconscious level, i think he views kalego as a parental figure to him as well, one of the first to give him clear and concise rules to follow. his parents were just a fucking mess, they barely parented. never really taught him life lessons besides "just say yes" and "run." Kalego clearly cares a lot while also helping iruma navigate the netherworld making it easy for him to project a father role onto kalego

But kalego isn't an affectionate man from what we have seen. And even if he was, he is his instructor first and foremost so he may not feel comfortable being so with iruma (and also imagine the fucking annoying comments about favoritism from the other misfits LOL). Any touching has been fairly limited to him picking up Iruma like during the teacher dorm visits and Kalego's final hours as a familiar. Which honestly make these few scenes even more precious. Because he is actively choosing to be like this with Iruma. Affection does not come easy to Kalego like it does Balam. More than likely because of his upbringing and family beliefs (always needing to remain vigilant, dignified) and him as a person. So while he doesn't touch Iruma often, his one on one moments with him are extremely personal and parental in nature. And when he does interact with Iruma physically, the rarity adds to the specialness.

And then there's Opera. Opera has been especially more affectionate in the latest volumes with hand holding and hugs and all sort of touching. Which is very wholesome to see because Opera wasn't a character that had much of a strong relationship with Iruma at the beginning besides guarding him. I always got the impression that Opera didn't know how to feel about him, not to say they wouldn't protect him with everything they have. But the feelings and affection started up after the battler/batra Party when Iruma grabbed both Sullivan and Opera (though the care for him had been growing steadily before that). I have seen two main headcannons for their relationship, some see it more as a big sibling relationship while others see it as a parental one as well. For the sake of this post, I will be using it as a parent and child one.

Opera has been right there with Sullivan watching Iruma grow more and more confident as time goes on. And through Iruma growing up, we see how proud of him Opera is. From a scared child to a more bold child, Opera has helped cultivate this in him. I also love that whenever Sullivan isn't around, Opera takes over for taking care of him, allowing the two to have solo family time. Obviously their relationship is more of a weird dynamic seeing as how Opera is a security devil, but that doesn't stop the story from developing their relationship. The physical affection for the two is started from both sides, Iruma hugging Opera or Opera holding out their hand to hold as they walk home. In this case, their relationship is the most parent like as the story progresses.

And finally, we have Sullivan who is the most affectionate of the four. Come on, you can't beat grandpa when it comes to love and devotion to Iruma. He is the first one to introduce Iruma to physical affection in the first place. Now granted, in a slightly overbearing way at first because Iruma is not used to this and Sullivan is too happy to have a grandson. But now, we can see the genuineness behind each of his interactions with Iruma. He very much acts like a doting grandfather, and he really does love him too. Touching clearly comes more naturally to him so it's his way of showing Iruma love which opened the doors for more people in Iruma's life to show this too. When Iruma first started touching Sullivan back at the battler/batra party, it highlighted that Iruma is now more comfortable with Sullivan to do so back. He has been taught by Sullivan this way of caring and cares about him in the same way too. There's a lot of mutual love.

They have come a long way as a family unit. Sure, grandpa has always been Iruma's number one supporter, but at the beginning of the story it felt way too over the top? As the audience we were right there besides Iruma in feeling overwhelmed by Sullivan. This far into the story though, the emotional trust they have in each other is beautiful. They are no longer just two individuals thrown together by fate, they are two people who care about the other and their weird little family. And its even more wonderous when we think about Sullivan's past, having lost someone deeply close to him and has no way of knowing if he'll ever return (aka Delkira). From what we know, it seemed that Sullivan truly loved him like a son/grandson/family member and loosing him is still something he's grappling over. And yet, he was still able to create this, push through his pain to make a family with Iruma. He's not a replacement for what he lost, but somone he allows himself to care about in a similar way in the past. By pushing through the trauma, he has been able to give Iruma what he never had in his past life.

I see both Balam, Kalego, and Opera as parents who provide him with different styles of parenting (with grandpa also providing that but also being a "ill give you anything you want" guardian hehe). Through this, he can learn varied viewpoints and, more importantly to this post, the affection he never had as a child. Does it make up for never having grown up with it? No, it never could. But it's not about making up for what it lost, rather its about making new connections and love with what you have now. And displaying that love in small and bigger ways with touch.

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Pretty Girls Covered In Grease Do Crazy Things To Me

content: leo valdez x reader fic warning: NSFW, complete smut under the cut, OBVIOUSLY AGED UP LATE LATE 20'S YALL, author's note: i have no excuse....i would like to formally apologize for this made me a monster fr...not proofread in the slightest and literally just written

it started out with an innocent offer. how the hell it ended up like this, leo had no clue.

that's a lie, he knew exactly how. having y/n around makes him radioactive with less than wholesome thoughts on daily basis, now cover her in grease and get her working up a sweat and he was a goner. worse than a goner...he was a horndog.

it was a simply offer of help and a simple acceptance of the aforementioned help. and yet, here leo was, doing even less work and drooling over his girlfriend. who, apparently, was completely oblivious to what she was doing to him. she apparently didn't know that rubbing grease over her - his - white tank top, right where her tits were, was extremely sensual. she apparently didn't realize that every time she leaned into the hood of the car, her pants would slide down and give leo just a tease of her red lace thong. apparently, she had no fucking clue, based on the innocent and sweet smiles she'd shoot over her shoulder at leo.

she was going to ruin him, surely. completely and utterly ruin him. or, at least, his pants

"leo, could you hand me that wrench?"

he heard your voice, he swears. he even grabbed the damn wrench, but the moment he spun around and saw you on your tippy toes, leaning into the car with one hand held out to him and your whole thong basically on display for him, he lost all train of thought and action. he froze, like an idiot, basically foaming at the mouth with the wrench steadily slipping out of his hand.

"leo?" you prompted, a little louder and something like a whine in your voice. leo lost it, a little groan leaving his lips and the wrench clattering against the ground. you pulled yourself from the engine, spinning around and looking at leo with worry, tilting your head and your lips pouting out.

"are you okay, leo-"

"keep saying my name," leo managed to grasp out, taking large strides towards you before smashing his lips against yours. a muffled moan left your lips at the sudden impact but you recovered quickly, your hands roaming over his shoulders and chest. leo reached down and squeezed your ass before giving a gentle pat, a signal you knew. without much separation of your lips, you hopped up and leo easily caught your thighs and pulled your hips to meet his. another muffled moan left your lips as you could feel how hard he was through his jeans.

leo carried you over to his workbench, only breaking away from you long enough to shove meaningless projects straight to the ground. he sat you on top of the desk, his lips finding home against yours for a few more minutes before he pulled away and all but ripped your shirt off.

"leo!" you squealed, laughing as he flung it away to gods know where, a smirk on his face as he took in the red lace bra. he hooked his finger on one of the straps, steadily tugging it down your arm

"wear this for me, baby?"

"always, valdez."

"that's what i like to hear," he taunted before abandoning your bra and slowly going down to your jeans, his fingers expertly undoing the button of your jeans and tugging the zipper down, revealing the matching panties that had been teasing at him allllllll afternoon.

"you like?" you question with heaving breaths.

"no," leo started, looking up at you through his lashes with a smirk, "i love."

"well, i think you'd love them more if they were off me," you offer, shooting forwards and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips

"You know me so well, princesa," he mused, which then led to a flurry of clothes flying off and landing in places that were gonna piss them off later but leo couldn't fidn it in him to care as he met your lips again, his fingers brushing over your breasts.

"i love to be in between your thighs doing my thing, baby, but i can't- i can't go another moment without being inside of you," leo all but whimpered against your lips. he was desperate, you always left him so whiney and so clingy.

"you're always so good to me, leo, let me take care of you," you whisper against his lips before shoving against his shoulder, pushing until he was sitting against the workbench. he looked up at you, eyes glassy with want and his hands quickly finding your waist as you climbed into his lap.

"f-fuck, baby," leo moaned as you sunk down, your head resting against his shoulder as you heaved in breathes. leo pushed his head agaisnt yours, whispering words of encouragements and praise into your ear, pressing kisses and sucking hickeys into any skin he could reach. he could feel your nails dragging and cutting across his back, leaving the poor guy reeling.

"gods, i- i don't think i can move," you mutter against leo's shoulder, following up with a few kisses and leo laughs lightly.

"my sensitive girl," he states and he could feel the reaction you had to his words, squeezing him tighter even though he didn't think you would even be able to do that, " if you keep squeezing me like that, we're gonna have problems."

"you know you can't say shit like that to me, asshole," you groan against his shoulder, solidifying your words with a circle of your hips against his, both of you moaning out at the movement. leo tightened his grip on your hips, both forcing you to move and wanting you to stop, but surely leaving you with bruises in the shape of his fingers.

"oh, so now i'm the tease? i don't think so," leo huffed, snapping his hips into yours and enjoying the way your head instantly fell back and your eyes squeezed shut.

"i- i- i don't know what you're talking about," you managed to gasp out between his thrusts and leo would have believe you, if it wasn't for the wide smirk that stretched across your lips.

"don't lie to me."

"okay- okay, i...gods- i planned it all! wore- fuck, leo, slo-slow down- i wore your fucking shirt and baggy jeans to- gods, shit- to turn you on!" you fight through your sentence, getting interrupted by your own pleasure. seeing you get off was steadily getting leo off, the boy beginning to huff under you as he steadily slammed up into you.

"fuck, you want me that bad?" taunted leo, though his voice shook on that statement.

"a- always," you moan, your whole body basically shaking, "leo-"

"i- i know. i got you, baby, i got you," leo muttered agasint your neck. you didn't need much more, instantly combusting from all the build up and nearly falling limp against leo's chest. you pushed leo over the edge, a few more thrusts before he was pulling out and finishing against his stomach with a groan. as hot as you were, you and leo did not need kids yet. you stayed nuzzled against leo's chest, both of you just trying to recover your breath.

"did you really plan it all?" leo whispered and you hummed in response, pressing a kiss to the apex of his shoulder. leo felt himself twitch at the thought, nearly growing hard at the thought of you purposefully wearing that matching red set to get his attention.

i guess that offer wasn't as innocent as he first thought.

[eetherealgoddess]

hey bestie. requesting a yandere rindou haitanj scenario where reader (cis fem) is currently dating Ran, but rindou is obsessed with her and wants her for himself. a noncon smut where ran leaves reader at home for some reason and rindou takes the opportunity to do the noncon smut and ran ends up catching them, but instead of getting mad, ran just joins them. 💜🖤

Of course!! Hope you like it ♡︎♡︎♡︎

ꨄBrothers Conflictꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Haitani Brothers Au

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Brothers Conflict

Being a Haitani’s girlfriend comes with its perks. Not only is Ran an attentive boyfriend, he loves to spoil his girl with all the finer things. Jewelry, makeup, clothes, nails, you name it, it’s done. It was a done deal as soon as he set his eyes on you. It was interesting considering you were the pursuer at first, having a small crush that grew into something more. Finally, ignoring all of your anxiety you confessed, only to find out that he had the same feelings.

Considering it’s hard to read his emotions, you had no idea that he had been thinking about you as much as you thought about him. It was a wholesome moment when he accepted your confession and surprised you with his own gift the next day to properly ask you to be his official girlfriend. It almost felt too good to be true.

After the first hang out, you met his brother Rin. Unfortunately, the awkward meeting resulted in his subtle insults at the dinner table along with the scowl plastered on his face. Worried that you had crossed a boundary of some sort, Ran reassured you that he acted that way with all his girlfriends and explained that he was just being a protective younger brother.

Brushing it off, you let go of your anxious thoughts and continued on as a normal girlfriend. A few months pass and the tension flees, though you still catch Rin’s intense glare boring into you whenever you and Ran relax at their apartment. You refrained from bringing it up, not wanting to cause any problems between the two brothers.

One day, you had been watching tv as you stroked your boyfriend's hair, his head resting on your lap as he breathed steadily, indicating a deep slumber. After a while, he wakes up and slowly pushes himself off of your lap. You eye him in confusion.

“There’s something I forgot to do. I’ll be back later, babe.” He says before giving you a peck to your forehead and hopping off the sofa. He checks for his wallet in his pocket and opens the door to leave. Once the door shuts behind him, you grab your phone and pull up an app, bored out of your mind as you scroll mindlessly.

“Don’t you have your own home or something?” A voice speaks from the side of the couch. You almost jump out of your skin, you have forgotten that your boyfriend’s younger brother was home.

“Ran invited me over.” You shrug, already used to the subtle jabs to the point that they don’t really affect you as bad. He ignores you as he grabs a glass of water before walking into the living room and sitting next to you, crossing a leg. Your eyebrows furrow at his choice of seating.

“What do you see in my brother, Y/n?”

You pause for a moment, not really expecting a question like that out of nowhere. He takes a sip of the liquid as he readjusts his glasses.

“W-well, I don’t really know how to explain it other than the fact that I would take a bullet for him. I like that I can be myself around him.” You shrug. Honestly, your feelings couldn’t be explained though you know for a fact you’re smitten over the older Haitani. You had been for years prior. The excitement you felt when he accepted your confession was unlike any other happy moment you’ve had. You feel safe when you’re around him, whether to be yourself completely or physically, knowing he’s protective. Of course, this is hard to explain when you’re called out on the spot.

“What a lame answer. Are you sure you deserve my brother?” You make eye contact with him.

“Maybe not.” You sigh, “but I do love him if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not going to try and hurt him or anything.”

It’s a funny thing, really. You think he’s asking as a protective younger brother. Such a naive girl, though that’s something he noticed in you from the beginning. The little love letters and gifts he opened whenever he found them in his brother’s trash. The excitement he saw on your face from a distance when Ran accepted your confession, not willingly on his own but by his younger brother’s bargaining. The hue that formed on your face when you read the notes from ‘Ran,’ not realizing who they were actually written by.

The plan was easy, really. Ran asks you out so his younger brother can get closer to you. What wasn’t part of the plan was Ran falling for you mid relationship. It just wasn’t fair. He never noticed you until Rin noticed you. Of course, they argued about it. Argued over you. It was interesting how much conflict you were bringing to the brothers without even knowing it. Yes, such a naive thing.

You eye him curiously, wondering why he hadn’t answered you. After a moment of Rin lost in his thoughts, he sets the cup down and stands up. Turning towards you, he bends over and snatches you from the sofa, placing you over his shoulder as he walks to the hall of the apartment.

“Hey! What are you doing?” You exclaim as you hit his back repeatedly. Once he reached his bedroom, he shut the door before tossing you on the bed.

“Rin?”

He climbs on top of you, pinning you to the bed.

“Why? Why do you love him so fucking much?” Your eyebrows furrow as you gaze at him with confusion. You wince as his grip tightens.

“What about me? I’m the one who tried so hard to get you! I’m the one who did everything!”

“Rin, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You try to reason with him, anxious out of your mind.

“The notes, the letters, all of it! It was all me.” He hissed, nails digging into your skin. “It was all a plan!”

“What? N-no.” You say in denial. You were so happy when Ran finally decided to give you attention within your relationship considering the beginning of it was a little confusing. You take a moment to think back to those detailed notes that stated things only Ran should know. Was it really all a ploy?

The younger Haitani smirks. “Yes, your precious boyfriend lied to you. Multiple times. He didn’t even have feelings for you until recently.” Tears threaten to fall as a familiar lump forms in your throat.

“N-no. Please, stop saying those things.” You hold back from crying, no longer in denial though not wanting to continue to hear anymore of what was coming out of his mouth.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to wake up, Y/n. It’s time you give back to me.” He states, removing his glasses and setting them down. You take the opportunity to use your free hand to slap him.

“Get off of me!” You shout angrily, tears finally spilling. You just want to leave and sulk by yourself. Rotting in your bed as you send Ran a break up text.

Instead of pinning the arm down, he ignores your outburst by grabbing your neck and lowering his face.

“If you bite me, I will fuck you up.” He promised with a deranged glint in his eyes. You could only stare in horror as he brought his lips to yours. He moves his lips along you hungrily before piercing his tongue through, saliva sliding out of your mouth as you don’t respond.

Using your free hand, you attempt to shove him by the shoulder though it doesn’t work. When he pulls back, he stops for a moment to wipe his mouth and gaze at your eyes. Before you could stop him, his face nuzzled between your shoulder and neck, piling kisses slowly up your skin as you grip his shoulder.

“Rin, don’t do this.” You cry, ignored as he uses both of his hands to tear your shirt. You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, the shirt torn apart, revealing your bare breasts considering you didn’t wear a bra today. His hands grab your mounds, gently squeezing as he releases a quiet moan.

“I was angry the first time I saw you and my brother have sex.” He lowers his head as he sucks one of the nipples, flicking his tongue before closing his lips around the nub once more. A heartbeat forms from your clit as you slightly arch your back from the chill that runs up your spine.

“Rin, please stop.” Your voice cracked, still hurt from the words before though frustrated with the reaction your body is emitting. He makes eye contact with heavy lids.

“But then, I couldn’t help but watch. Your intoxicating moans drew me in, Y/n.” His husky voice vibrated against your nipple, his lips barely touching the nub as he speaks, breath causing your nipple to harden.

“Such a slutty girl. Legs wide open for my brother, begging for more.” He returns to sucking, along with one of his hands easing down to your pants, unhooking them before sliding into your panties.

“Rin.” You whisper. “Just wait, please. W-we can talk about this.” You bite your lip when you feel his finger push against your clit. He slowly rolls his finger against the nub, eyeing you as he continues to lick your nipple. His other hand fondles the other breast, pulling and rubbing circles on your nipple. Your hands held his shoulders, pushing him once more, to no avail.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about your face and how it looked when he was eating you out. The way you rubbed your pussy against his face. I came so hard thinking about you, baby.” He whispers the last sentence.

Your fingers tighten against his shirt as he accelerates his finger against your pussy. Your hips twitch as your head falls back. You felt the juice fall out of your pussy as he gave another lick to your nipple.

Suddenly, he pulls his hand out and sits up. He moves off of you and swiftly pulls your pants off. You try sitting up only to be pushed down before he tears your panties off.

“Rin! This is wrong!”

He ignores you as he opens your legs, fitting himself in between as he holds your thighs down. He doesn’t give you a chance before his lips circle around your clit. Your hips jolt up as you grab his head as an attempt to push him away. His grip only tightens around your thighs, squeezing his arms around painfully as well as using his nails to leave indents, eyeing you from below. You yelp in pain as you fall back, the pleasure of his tongue flicking your nub conflicting with your emotions.

“Well, brother. This was quicker than I thought.” A voice comes from the doorway. You look up surprised to see your boyfriend.

“Ran, i-it’s not what it looks like! I swear!” You cry out.

“It’s okay, baby. I know.” He sighs as he sits behind you, positioning himself to lean against the headboard as your back leans against him.

“I know I have some explaining to do. We can talk about it later, alright? Just relax.” He circles his arms around your waist, his hands moving to hold your breasts as he leaves a trail of kisses on your shoulder.

Rin uses his fingers to gather your slick before pressing two of them inside of you, angling it to hit your g-spot steadily as he continues sucking and licking your clit. You couldn’t help but thrust your hips to force his fingers deeper, releasing a moan before heavily breathing as the overwhelming sensation takes over your body. Your eyes fall into the back of your head as you lay against Ran.

“I just want you to know that I love you so much, even if our relationship didn’t start off as ideal.” Ran softly speaks against your ear while pinching and fondling your nipples.

“W-why did you, ah… lie to… fuck! Lie to me?”

“Oh God!” You exclaim as Rin continues to bring you closer to the edge, accelerating once more as the sounds of your wet pussy fills the room. You feel Ran’s hardened cock against your back.

“I said we’ll talk about it later.” He uses one hand to pull your chin back, landing a passionate kiss on your lips as your body moves against him, grinding your hips against Rin’s face as he adds another finger.

“I-I’m gonna…ah!” You moan as you finally release, Rin lapping up all your juices as your body convulses.

When Rin moves from your legs, he removes his pants as Ran gently shifts you on your knees. You breathe heavily as your legs tremble from your orgasm. Rin guides you on top of himself as you weakly rest your head on his shoulder.

“W-wait! What about a condom?” You say against his neck.

“It’ll be a Haitani either way.” Ran states as he removes his own pants.

Before you could respond, Rin pulls you down as he shoves his cock all the way in. Both of you groan as the feeling of your pussy is stretched and wrapped tightly around his girth. His arms wrap around your back as he holds it there. You feel Ran spread your cheeks before he uses your leaking cream and his own saliva to rub against his cock. He eased the head in, a pain shooting through your back as you whimpered against Rin’s neck.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy so good.” Rin breathes out before pulling back and rocking his hips forward. Ran shoves himself all the way in as he grips your ass, pulling himself back before slamming in.

They both rock their hips, gradually accelerating as all of your moans and heavy breathing filled the air. The pain mixes in with the pleasure before it engulfs you fully, your mouth held open as your body rocks in between them. Your hands hold onto Rin’s shoulders tightly as you’re plowed from both holes.

“So good. Such a good fucking girl.” The blonde says as he picks up the pace. His head falls back as your sweat mixes with his. “I waited so long, Y/n. You have no idea… fuck! How many… ah! Times I’ve cum to you.”

In a twisted way, the words he spills out of his mouth causes another aching throb to hit your pussy, clenching around him as you both make eye contact.

Ran accelerates his speed, turned on by the display of you getting double penetrated by both of them. He smiles as the scenarios fly through his mind of you naked and waiting for them to come home. Another twitch of his cock forms from the ideas.

After a few minutes of his cock making contact with your g-spot and your boyfriend’s cock filling your ass, you squeeze your eyes shut as you subconsciously bite into Rin’s shoulder, orgasming. Your bite causes him to groan out before pressing himself deep inside you and releasing his load. Ran follows not long after, his cum leaking out of your ass as he pushes against you. Breathing heavily, Ran removes himself from you, pulling you into his arms as well as Rin hugging you from behind.

When you caught your breath, you attempted to sit up from your position, anger lingering from the truth spoken earlier.

“We need to talk.” You say to both of them who only ignore you as they hold you in place, dozing off into a deep slumber as you follow not long after.

[hydrobunny]

 jump then fall (into me)

tags: fluff, established relationship, insecure reader, comfort, reo reo reo reo reo reo, lots of dialogue actually, they're drinking age, listen to jump then fall !! word count: 1.2k

“do you ever regret us?”

reo mikage jolts from his seat at his computer. the expression he fixes you with as he turns around is almost comical, all wide eyes and horror.

you can’t find it in yourself to laugh.

“what?”

you shift nervously. the satin sheets underneath you bunch awkwardly. “you know. getting together- staying together.”

he rises immediately, emails left for a later time. “what happened.” the words themselves should be a question, but his stiff tone doesn’t make it one.

you sigh, falling back on to the bed. although it’s only been two nights since the two of you checked in to this particular hotel, the bed already smells of reo’s expensive shampoo. “i dont know. sometimes i feel like i’m holding you back.”

his weight sinks into the mattress. “how the hell would you hold me back?”

you drag your hands over your face. “you’re just- you’re so you. heir to billions of yen, future ceo, hotshot football player, and you’re just barely in your twenties. shouldn’t you be out there in the wild getting into scandals every week? but you’re always just... here.”

“y/n.” even through tightly shut eyes, you can feel reo’s intense gaze on you. “is this really because you think i want to be out there making a fool of myself?” his hand gently brushes over your hair. “also, why would i get into scandals when i have you?”

you roll away with a groan. “it's not that. just- shouldn't you have had more relationships than just me? you know, all the first meetings and awkward flirting and shit.  you were popular as all hell in high school, but somehow you’re still with me? isn’t it boring?”

his hand freezes, and you feel a small inkling of guilt bleed through your heart.

after a long moment, reo rises from the bed without another word. He grabs his jacket from the chair as he pads out of the room, away from you.

you shove a pillow over your face and fight the urge to scream, sigh in relief, suffocate yourself, anything.

twenty minutes later, when you’ve reached a point of contemplating if those roses in the hotel vase are fake- (they’re in water, but you swear they smell exactly like those essential oils in scented candles)- your phone vibrates from its place on the desk.

you reluctantly lift yourself up, sliding your feet into your waiting fluffy slippers. reo’s computer is still turned on from before he left, some fancy computer program steadily running. you spot a hint of a message thread with nagi before you tear your eyes away.

the notification is from your messages, from none other than reo 🦎💜 himself.

the message itself is pretty short, unlike the usually wordy messages reo sends you consistently throughout the day.

come down to hotel bar. look nice

it takes you some time to actually comprehend the message, more than a few seconds spent blinking at it blankly.

and then you’re immediately digging into your suitcase for anything considered “nice.” honestly, did reo expect you to be able to procure outfits without any hint of the dress code? was he expecting family dinner or clubbing?

and what the hell was even with this request anyway? you were pretty sure your boyfriend had a business meeting in barely forty minutes, and it’s not like you two had ended your conversation on good terms.

either way, you settle on something in between wholesome and provocative, a pretty flattering cocktail dress you hadn’t really even planned on bringing. after a moment of contemplation, you leave your hair down, sliding in a pair of glittering earrings.

honestly, you weren’t even sure why you were trying so hard.

but when you arrive at the bar some minutes later, reo isn’t there. in fact, there’s no one there except for a stiff bartender slowly wiping down a glass. you hesitate from your place by the doorway, shooting off a here. dont see you? message.

he leaves you on read.

it takes you another six minutes of disbelief before you finally walk into the bar, and then it’s a short two minutes of fuming before you call for your first drink.

throughout it all, you see no hint of anyone; no reo, no drunk couples, no rich guests, no one. it would actually be kind of creepy if you had it in yourself to look around or care, but you really don’t.

ten minutes later, it’s when you’re nursing your second drink of the night ( a daiquiri that honestly is not getting you drunk fast enough ) that you hear another human voice.

“haven’t seen you before, pretty. can i pay for that drink?”

your mood immediately plummets as you turn with a scowl, ready to tell whoever it is enough curses to- oh.

reo smirks at you, flashing his card towards the bartender. you stare at him in disbelief. he’s in a completely new outfit from when you saw him last, something that is definitely not appropriate for his upcoming meeting. he has a leather jacket on, for gods’ sake!

“what the fuck are you doing?” you manage to say, realizing that you’re supposed to be mad at him. “do you realize how long i’ve been waiting?”

he pointedly doesn’t respond. “another round please, for me and the lonely lady!” he says before turning back to you. “so. what brings a girl like you here?”

you literally have no idea what he’s doing. you open your mouth to respond - with what, you couldn’t say- but then reo winks at you, quick enough that you barely notice.

the words fall out of your mouth without you even realizing. “what’s it to you?”

he hums, looking you up and down. “is it wrong to want to comfort a clearly sad stranger? come on, spill out all your secrets.”

you fight the urge to smile. “well, if you say it like that…i guess i’m trying to heal my broken heart.”

he responds a beat too late. “really? what idiot broke your heart?”

“no, i was the idiot,” you sigh, looking back towards your glass. “i was a bitch for no reason. got too caught up in my head, you know?”

his hands fly to yours. “i do know. and i’m sure your idiot knows as well. in fact, if i was the guy in question, i would have told you that nothing you can do would hurt me. that any time spent with you is infinitely better than time spent with any other women.”

you meet his eyes and smile. “and if you happened to be that guy, i would probably kiss you right then and there.”

reo swallows, hard. “yeah?”

you lean toward him. “too bad you’re not him.” you stand from your seat, grinning at how your boyfriend sputters instantly, almost knocking over his cup.

your shoes click clack a rhythmic beat onto the hotel floor as you head back toward the elevator.

seconds later, reo’s familiar form bumps into you, arm linking around your waist.

“i think that was first date was awkward enough, yeah?” he says breathlessly.

you lean further into him. “it was perfect. but i think i prefer my boyfriend.”

“good thing you’re looking at him. which means..”

you laugh, stopping. “which means this.”

you tiptoe upward and finally kiss reo. he tastes like watermelon chapstick and expensive rum.

// bonus//

“hey, reo?”

“yes?”

“did you rent out that entire bar so we would be alone?”

his silence is response enough.

I loveee reblogs and comments !! <33

[superkirbylover]

i present to all of you: the designs of the evil au the duo travel to (and... CHARACTER LORE!??!) for dimensional delivery

see under the cut for ~ the lore ~

alright chat, welcome to under the cut. here's the lore @pinkygrocket and i hashed out that i remember

evil pep still runs a restaurant, but he's not involved with it. he used to be and was the chef, but as business grew and steadily turned into a front for money laundering, he grew more and more distant from it. he's so paranoid that he literally doesn't even have friends. anybody he "trusts" he doesn't even trust fully, he always takes into account that they could betray him. basically, regular pep's negative traits but heightened: he's more selfish, paranoid, plus he's gotten a lot better at being manipulative

gustavo runs a more hidden restaurant as a peaceful temporary hole away from the chaos. brick helps him with the place. he's a very good cashier you know. gustavo really does not like the way pep turned out, but it was the breaking point when noise was murdered by pep. gustavo and brick both hold a grudge against evil pep, but gustavo moreso as he used to be best friends with him

mr stick is flat up a loan shark. he's not evil but he's not good either (unless you count loan sharks as evil which is based). he's constantly tried to work with evil pep but because of the latter's paranoia there's been no progress on that front. however stick's loan sharkery outside of pep has been successful so he has a slightly cooler fit to boot

noisette's gone into hiding. she ditched the "noisette" name and costume, just privately going by her real name (which i like to think is hazel). if she goes out in public, it's as mr. incognito. she's lost a lot of her outlook due to noise's passing so she's a lot less silly, but she still has a kind heart

pizzahead also has his own joint, but not for the Wholesome Purposes like gustavo. sure, it's often seen as a place of peace away from chaos like gustavo's, but it's still not great. he cares more about entertainment than about providing a good place so if it's funny and fun to him he doesn't care. fortunately he doesn't find death all that fun

noise was Killed by Evil Peppino ! i don't know the circumstances around it yet but let's just say evil pep definitely justifies it to himself as "oh he was annoying anyway. all he ever did was just get in my way, so i just found a permanent solution to it is all"

[secretwritingspot]

Sea Legs

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: definitely PG/PG-13 at most, wholesome fluff. Implied soft!dom Sanji but like you can read it without that tbh, he's just being assertive. But like...we know.

Summary: request for @justyouraveragefangirl1967 - soft!dom Sanji taking care of Reader with chronic pain

Disclaimer(s): first and foremost, I personally am not someone who suffers with chronic pain, but I tried to write this as accurately as possible with feedback from a friend who does. It's still entirely possible that I got a few things wrong because the closest personal experience I could draw from was the pain that comes with hypermobility. That all being said, I hope I did it justice <3

It's far past the crack of dawn, and yet the sun rolls over you like a new discovery- unpleasant, if only for the moment.

You don't do much but groan at first, slinging your arm across your face as the sound quickly dissolves into a whine, the ship already tossing. The gentle movement, which you would normally find incredibly soothing, makes your stomach roil. It takes a few moments of unplacable, vague discomfort before the reason why registers in your mind.

Ah, that, you think as teeth bare in a hiss.

There's an empty ache running down your legs, dull but no more awful for it, twinging like the joints in your knees, hips need to crack but won't.

You allow yourself a moment to wallow before taking a deep breath, swinging your legs over the side of the bed with as little actual movement from them as possible. It won't be that bad, it won't be that bad, it won't be that-

A whimper escapes parted lips when you put your weight on them to stand, steadying your wobbling self on your nightstand. It is just as bad as you expected it to be, as bad as it always was on days like this, but you knew that allowing yourself that white lie was the only way you'd get out of bed at all.

The ship sways underneath you again and this time the bed isn't there to catch you, the movement sending you stumbling slightly for balance in a way that shoots pins and needles up your legs, a different kind of pain that came with taking your first steps when you got like this.

It got easier after a few minutes of walking around. Kinda.

(It did not.)

Before you had decided to join the crew of the Merry, your friends had teased in that knowing way that only friends can, even with dark subjects, that you'd need to find your sea legs first. You'd laughed and told them you hadn't even found your land legs yet.

The memory is fleeting and it isn't long before you've (mostly) stabilized yourself, albeit painfully. You lurch to your dresser, throwing on something new enough to hopefully not look as rumpled as you felt, and practice your walking on the way to the door.

Step, breathe, step, breathe- one foot in front of the other.

When trembling hands find the doorknob you tell yourself that the shaking is only from being tired. You never were a morning person. It doesn't take too many tries before you manage to open it, each step you take getting steadily more practiced and confident, despite the gritted teeth hidden behind your lips.

It's as close to normal walking as you can manage by the time you emerge in the galley, an imitation learned from years of practice. Your knees feel like they'll give out but you know they won't, not for a few hours or so.

For now, you are normal.

Or as close to it as you can manage.

"The fuck are you doing?"

It isn't even a second after stepping into the room that you hear the voice, the solitary other person in the galley with you. The usually honeyed tone is, despite remaining gentle, firmer than you're used to. It's a tone of voice you've only ever heard from the blond-haired man in...other situations.

Ah, right. Him.

Him, who knew too much, saw too much with eyes far too pretty, paid enough attention to notice things about you that you hadn't yet. The ever-present thorn in your side. Though maybe that was too harsh a word for a man as warm or soft as Sanji.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm just getting breakfast-"

An unfortunately timed rock of the ship sends you stumbling, disrupting your steps that are just light enough because they're practiced, has your feet landing too hard in a way your legs protest against with a sharp sting of pain.

In an instant he's on you, holding you up like the nights when the crew goes out drinking, his volunteered job to hold you stumbling home. The look in his eyes is different now, though, as he mumbles to himself under his breath.

"Absolutely not."

His voice is laced with an obvious frustration and for a moment you feel bad, unused to that tone being used with you.

Of course, you know it isn't really directed at you. He's talking to himself, after all.

He drags you back to your room without much of a fuss, movements still deceptively gentle as he supports most of your weight for you to keep it off your legs.

He knows. Somehow, always, he knows.

He hadn't been the first you'd told - to everyone's surprise (including your own) that had been Zoro. Not Sanji and his sweetness, not Luffy and his stubborn care for his crew, not Nami for the safe, conspiratorial environment she created with you, as though even if her trust was hard to earn and dangerous to break, there was a sort of camaraderie between the two of you in simpler ways. You two against the boys.

No, it was not any of them. Any of the logical choices.

It had been when you were reading in the sun on deck, Zoro training a bit away. This was the kind of contact he liked, you were discovering. Companionable silence with the two of you doing your own thing while sharing the same space. It was easier than small talk, anyway.

You didn't mind, really. The two of you got on well enough and it was a simple expression of friendship, sharing the deck.

When he'd finished, the sun considerably lower in the sky, he'd complained about feeling faint. Not to a concerning extent, but there was an undeniable ache in his muscles that came from training so relentlessly every day. You didn't even think before slipping out that you felt like that a lot of the time without even doing anything to cause it.

Aside from a concerned squint, a cock of his head, and eventual, "...that sucks", the information didn't seem to phase him. You noticed he was less hard on you on days when you weren't much help to the crew, though.

For that, you were grateful. In his own way, that was him "helping".

Sanji's "helping" is, unsurprisingly, far different from Zoro's. After a few awkward moments of trying and failing to stumble back to your bed, he simply picks you up, as if you weighed nothing, carrying you the rest of the way.

This part - the flushed, apologetic look down at the floor once he'd set you back on your bed - was always the worst. There's a thick feeling of disappointment, even though you know it's all in your head. With his arms crossed across his chest as you avoid his eyes, though...it doesn't feel like it.

"...I thought-"

"I know what you thought."

He's quick to cut you off as soon as you break the silence, too uncomfortable with awkward pauses like that one to let them stretch on any longer than necessary.

The response is not cold, but it's not the Sanji you're used to either. It is not coddling or doting and overwhelmingly affectionate. It is not a happy sound. You keep your head down and look away, clearing your throat and willing tears not to form in the pinpricks you feel behind your eyes.

He sighs, sitting down next to you.

"...you know I worry."

There's more silence and you sniffle, fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt. Of course he does. Of course, he does.

He seems to sense the tension and guilt in your motions, offering a hand to you in comfort. Even now, you take it. You know, when offered, you will always take his hand.

"I know it's rough. I know that you...want to help. Want things to be normal..."

A part of you wants to scream that he doesn't at all, doesn't know anything about what it's like. But you don't. You know that they're words you'd regret tomorrow. You know that he's trying.

"Love, I just want you safe."

Is his final, exasperated plea, your traitorous heart doing flips at the nickname.

You know. Of course you know he wants you safe, he wouldn't ever be this direct with you if it involved anything else. Your safety, above all else, was paramount. Though you could fight or delay or try to bargain with him if you wanted, that's the moment you know you've lost. You know the outcome, even if a stubborn part of you doesn't want to admit it.

"...lie down for me? Please?"

And he knows exactly what to say, "for me" and "please", the words lighting up a part of your brain that doesn't let you question him. Instead you nod, lying down slowly before curling up on your side. He gives you a wry smile, crouching down to stay eye-level with you and pulling the blankets up to cover you, eyes softening.

"What am I gonna do with you, huh?"

The question is asked to no one in particular, his voice is liquid velvet. He lightly taps the tip of your nose, shaking his head fondly as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Do I have to?"

It's the first time you've spoken in a while, voice raw as you whisper the question.

It is the same every time- you ask him the same question, and he gives you the same answer.

He sighs, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again, reaching a hand out to lightly stroke across your cheek.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You have to."

It's not the answer you want, but it's the one that's familiar. And in a way, that's a comfort in and of itself.

His eyes are bright and lovesick as he looks after you, cataloging every freckle, eyelash, tint on your skin like you were the answer, though the question you couldn't be sure of. He stares like the light bends around your face, like you're the only source of illumination he's ever seen. The silence is comfortable and warm, intimacy inherent in it all as he traces your face lightly, making his examination with slow and steady strokes.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stay here. Just for a while.

Eventually, he rises from his position at your side, standing up and straightening out his suit as he does. The distance makes you whine, though you bite it back, and he shakes his head fondly, voice low and calm.

"Just going to inform the others I'll be busy today. Stay put."

The door closes gently behind him and, despite yourself...you do.

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Osamu Miya NSFW Profile

Yandere! Osamu Miya x fem! reader

Warnings: non/dub-con, masturbation, kidnapping, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of nonconsensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, toys, biting, bondage, overstimulation, mentions of crying, fem reader, Osamu is horny as hell, he briefly considers coming in your food, stalking, MDNI

WC: 10.0K

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

HABITS

Osamu has never classified himself as an overly sexual person.

Of course, he’s had his moments; nights of insatiable horniness, his hand or a girlfriend being the only one to bring him the release he’s so desperately craving, his body feeling hot and heavy and frantic to reach orgasm. But even then, his horniness has never been a huge part of his life – more so something he indulges in occasionally. Even with past partners he’s never found himself wanting sex more than once or twice a week, his body simply not needing it.

And for the most part, this has been his life story – however, once you step into the picture, things begin changing. Just as his desire for you in less graphic, more wholesome and pathetic ways multiplies monumentally, the way his body begins desiring you does as well.

It’s not even purposeful; Osamu doesn’t mean to be creepy when he slowly begins noticing the way your body looks in those sweatshirts you always seem to be wearing. He promises he’s not being weird when he sees the way a bit of your tummy is exposed when you stretch, your arms high above your head and your face twisting up into the cutest little pout and fuck, the noise that slips past your lips –

He has to physically pause and breath when this happens, willing himself to not get carried away by thoughts of how you’d sound in bed with him, your pretty moans and cries like music to his ears as he touches and squeezes at you, his thumb rubbing firm circles against your clit and his cock plunging in and out of you so steadily it’s almost filthy. Osamu doesn’t mean to be a pervert when he imagines the way you’d look in your underwear, your cute bras and panties framing your body oh so well, making you look delicious and perfectly soft and supple for him to grab and caress.

He’s shocked by the way you make his body so easily respond; perhaps it’s because he’s been so long without a previous girlfriend (maybe a year or so), or perhaps it’s just because his every waking thought revolves around you. And really, isn’t it only natural for his thoughts to drift off into a more risqué domain? Isn’t it only natural for a young, vital man at the prime of his sexual health to imagine a sweet thing like you underneath him, writhing and grasping at his pillows, begging and pleading for him to give you more, please ‘Samu, more more wanna come so badly please!

He thinks so, and while the influx of sexual thoughts about you makes him nervous at first (too often is he scared he’ll grow hard at the mere sight of you, making it glaringly obvious exactly what’s on his mind), eventually Osamu is giving in and letting it happen.

Because really, what can he do to stop it?

The seeds of his desire for you are already planted, and it’s not like he can stop the roots that slowly take hold in his every thought. It’s alarmingly easy to accept the way his body just needs you now. It’s scarily easy to let himself fuck his fist every night, gasps and wanton groans tumbling from his lips along with slurs of your name, praises and begs for you to clench harder, to go faster, to moan out his name and tell him you want him, that you want his spit and cum and love. It’s just too easy for him to deny, and what’s the harm, really?

Sure, when he’s fucking his pillow or the makeshift pillow he pretends is you, he’s wasting precious cum that should be resting inside that cute cunt of yours, but he’s sure you’ll understand. After all, you must touch yourself with him in mind – why else would you be so flustered around him?

Why else would you be bending down in front of him, biting your lip, twirling your hair, making those sexy fucking sounds that are much too close to being a moan to be a coincidence?

When it comes to actually touching himself, Osamu is versatile. He likes to mix up his methods often, as he believes the key to a good sex life is surprise and trying new things. And so, once he’s got his fingers wrapped around his cock and his eyes fluttering closed, Osamu practices this in the way he imagines you.

His fall back is often to let the warm shower water run over his nude body after work, letting the stress of the day wash away from his tight muscles. He closes his eyes and sighs, wiping down his chest and letting his mind drift back to how cute you were today in his shop; you’d smiled at him, your cheeks plumping up as you laughed at some joke he’d made, your pretty voice making his heart race and the way you’d said his name –

Osamu curses under his breath, the memory of how your tongue caressed the syllables of his name making his throat run dry. Listening to you speak was always a pleasure, but there’s was something about the way you’d said it, something about how breathy and airless it’d been that had Osamu’s hand reaching for the wall, steadying himself against the tiles as he gulped.

It’s easy to let his mind wander to more explicit thoughts of you; the way your shirt hugged your chest just a little too much, the outline of your breasts painfully clear through the material. Osamu hisses under his breath as he imagines reaching out and squeezing, feeling your soft skin under his palms, your hard nipples pressing against his skin. His tongue flicks out to lick at his lips – would you let him lick them? Would you let him run his tongue over your sensitive buds, swirling and teasing, sucking them into his mouth and little nibbling at them, making you keen his name and sigh out?

His fingers trail down his chest, toying with his own nipples as he imagines it, making his cock throb as it grows half hard in mere moments, the affect you have on him making his body respond faster than it ever has before. He lets his eyes flutter open for a moment, staring down as his cock steadily grows darker, the tip turning a bright shade of pink against the wet, matted pubic hair.

He bites his lip as he wonders whether you’d be able to take it – maybe down your throat? Would you let him thrust into your mouth, gasping your name as his tip lodges itself down your throat, twitching and leaking precum as you gag and choke?

He wonders if you you’d let him facefuck you right in this shower, your pretty body kneeling against the wall, letting him rest his hands against the tiles and languidly thrust into your mouth, letting his balls clap against your chin, thick and aching to be drained inside you.

He’s fully hard at this point, images of you with spit, drool and cum dripping down your chin too much for him to ignore. He wonders if your sounds could be heard over the shower water as he lets his hands trail down to his navel, his fingers brushing over his skin and making him hiss. It’s ridiculous how sensitive he already is – how sensitive you’ve made him, how cock practically begging to be surrounded by your warmth, your spit, your little hums and moans of pleasure that shoot straight up his spine.

With a shaky, uneven exhale, Osamu lets his fingers wrap around his length, turning around to face the tiled wall away from the shower stream. He positions his legs wide apart, imagining enough space for your cute little body to kneel down, your mouth the perfect level with his cock. He gives himself a few pumps, hissing through his teeth, before letting one hand press against the wall and lean forward.

It's disturbingly easy to imagine you between his legs, your eyes staring up at him all glossy and needy, your hands running up and down his thighs as you mouth at his cock, desperate to get him in your mouth, wanting to taste him and feel him and swallow him and milk him for every fucking drop of cum he has –

Osamu groans as he lets his hand begin stroking, the motions quick and precise, exactly as he likes it. He flicks his wrist slightly as he pulls upward, the foreskin glistening with the bit of sheen left from the water and his own pre-cum. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and feeling the way his thighs tense and clench, his hips jerking forward every once in a while, his imagination running wild with ideas of the way you’d lick and suck at his skin.

His tip is bright red, oozing pre-cum in large droplets, and Osamu curses as he imagines the way you’d moan at the taste, pulling off of him with a popping noise and giving him a few pumps. Fuck ‘Samu, taste so good, wanna make you cum, wanna taste your cum, please…

He loses himself in the fantasy for a few moments, squeezing his eyes shut and letting a shaky smile spread past his lips, his voice interrupted by his own moans. F-fuck yeah baby, shit, make me cum, give ya everythin’ – oh fuck, just like that – gonna give you every fuckin’ drop, gonna stuff you fuckin’ full -!

His voice is gravelly, the pleasure making his head spin, and as he strokes harder and faster, Osamu feels the trace edges of his orgasm approaching. The water beats down on his back, the heat making his muscles flutter, and as he imagines the way he’d slowly lose control, his hips unable to stay still while you bob your head up and down, he snaps. His hand stays still as he jerks his hips forward, thrusting into his hand with reckless abandon, imagining the way you’d gasp against his cock, your throat tightening up impossibly as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, your body to make him feel good.

He cries out your name, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as every muscle in his body tightens, the feeling growing as his balls clench, the warmth spreading, growing larger and larger as he moans and gasps your name, warning you that ‘s coming, take it baby, fuck take it take it! Long ropes of cum shoot from his puffy tip, the off-white splattering against the shower wall, sliding down towards the tub bottom. Osamu’s heaving, ragged breaths slipping past his lips as he leans down, hunched against the wall as he keeps stroking, trying to milk every drop out just like he promised he’d give you, because he knows how much you love his cum.

His shoulders shake as he slowly overstimulates himself, his red cheeks growing even darker as he whispers out praises to imaginary you, the sound of the water nearly drowning out his voice. It feels so good, so fucking good, and as he lets go of his spent cock, Osamu shuts his eyes and turns back to the water, letting it run down his face as he wills himself to stop breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

You’re just too damn good – if you feel this good in his imagination, then how would you feel in real life? How warm, tight, wet would your mouth feel against his skin, your hands carefully groping and massaging at his balls, maybe even letting one slip inside?

Osamu shudders, one last spurt of cum dripping onto the ground below, before smiling shakily.

You’re just perfect, and he can’t wait until he gets to fuck you for real – no more imagination.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your thighs

While Osamu would be honest with ever fiber of his being if he were to say that he loves every part of you, he’d be a liar to say that his thighs aren’t his favorite part.

To him, there’s just something so wonderful about the plush expanse of fat; he loves to watch you watch, the little shorts he has you wear leaving nothing to the imagination. Seeing the slight jiggle as you move gets him biting his lip, those steel eyes never leaving your upper legs. He likes seeing the way your skirts brush against the soft skin, all the sizes he buys you just slightly too short to be comfortable, though you both know why he does this.

When you bend over, exposing the curvature of your ass and how it connects to your thighs, Osamu has to stifle a groan, his hand automatically reaching down to cup at his cock as arousal starts flowing through his veins.

There’s just something so soft and supple about them, and really from the beginning of his infatuation with you, many of Osamu’s fantasies revolve around them.

At first, it’s mostly innocent; he wants you to lay on the couch with him, your legs over his knees while you stuff your face with popcorn, the movie on the screen making you laugh – and fuck, do you look pretty while you laugh. He’d spend more time simply staring at your creamy skin below him than watch, though, tracing a finger over the flesh and making you giggle slightly because it tickles.

He wants you to cuddle with him, to wrap your legs around his, letting your plush thighs brush against his own, their warmth and softness driving him crazy and making him kiss all over your face, his heart swelling at the way you try to hide from him.

Eventually, however, Osamu can’t deny the way his fantasies slowly turn more lewd, more risqué, less innocent. He can’t deny the affect your thighs have on him; the idea of spreading them, exposing your twitching hole and your puffy clit makes his throat dry, desire blowing his pupils wide because god, how soft is the skin right below your pussy, your upper thighs?

He can’t deny the prospect of sucking hickeys into the area, feeling the way you squirm underneath him, the thin, sensitive skin so susceptible to that pretty, purple color his lips leave behind. He can’t deny that having your thighs squeeze his head as he eats you out would be enough to get him moaning your name, that you clenching as tightly as you can around his head would him dizzy in the best possible way.

He can’t deny that the idea of you clasping your thighs around his waist as he fucks into you would be enough to bring him to orgasm, the way your muscles would spasm and sporadically clench and unclench enough to get him moaning into your ear, gasping your name as he fucks you harder and harder, pushing you deeper into the mattress as his hips smack against your own.

He just really, really likes your thighs, and he’s not afraid to say it – maybe towards the beginning of his obsession he is, too shy to tell you that your thighs have routinely gotten him hard, but by the time he’s got his tongue shoved down your throat, your breast in his hand, his fingers teasing your aching cunt, he doesn’t mind letting you know.

He doesn’t mind telling you that he’s spent so many nights with his cock in hand, your thighs on his mind as he imagines fucking them, pushing his length between them over and over while you writhe and squirm underneath him, the sight of his cockhead appearing with every thrust driving you crazy with lust.

He’ll tell you he’s thought of coming all over them more times than he can count, smearing the off-white into your skin and telling you how pretty you look, all painted up just for him.

He loves your thighs – they’re the perfect reflection of you. Sweet, soft, sexy as hell, and something he’s thinking of nearly every minute of the day – you just have that effect on him, after all.

His mouth

Osamu’s favorite part of his own body is his mouth. You’ll quickly discover with him that he absolutely loves to use his mouth on you.

There’s something so satisfying about tasting you, feeling the texture of your skin against his tongue, knowing how you sound when he’s licking stirpes up your neck or along your thighs.

He’s always imagining kissing you; he’s spent time daydreaming about what your lips would feel like against his as he rolls rice balls at work, wondering what your tongue must taste like, whether you like rough or soft kisses. He’ll check inventory as he imagines the way you’d moan into his mouth as he kisses you – would you like it if he bit your lip? Just a bit, just enough to be playful, the smallest, smallest edge of pain lighting up through your body?

He’s daydreaming of leaving hickeys along your skin, wondering how you’d react if he were to spell his name out in the dark patches, right along your collarbone or your lower tummy, anywhere that shows his possession over you, that he’s the only one who gets to see your body in such a vulnerable way.

He’s thinking of the way you’d caress his hair and sigh as he sucks on your nipples, mouthing at your tits like some fool in love because god, what would they taste like? He’s constantly plagued with thoughts of how you’d respond to his mouth, whether you’d enjoy the sensations he can bring you, whether you’d like the way his tongue feels against your skin, even if you like the residue of his spit when the cool air hits it, making you shiver.

And so, once he’s got you in his arms, your pretty face mere inches from his own, he’ll put all those theories and questions into action. You’ll find yourself being kissed nearly every minute of the day; anything from heated, French kisses that leave you breathless and wanting more, all the way to chaste pecks against your knuckles when he’s cooking you dinner, telling you that nothing he could ever make would be as sweet as you.

He’ll always be kissing every inch of your body when he’s got you naked underneath him, making sure no area is left untouched before he ravages you and has you seeing stars.

And when he gets to use his tongue on that magical place between your legs, kissing and sucking at your cunt with a reckless abandon?

Well, sometimes you wonder if he eats you out for his own pleasure, not yours – and really, you’re right. He likes to make you feel good, to get you creaming on his tongue so you can be prepared and relaxed for the rest of the session, but really, it’s for him. It’s for him because he loves the way you taste, all musky and natural and irresistible. It’s for him because he likes the texture of your folds against his tongue, all soft and squishy and slick with your cum (and sometimes his, too).

It’s for him because he likes the way you pull at his hair, his tongue making you see stars as you drive your hips up, so close to coming that you can almost taste it.

At any given time, Osamu is more than happy to use his mouth against you – after all, you’re his beloved, and what kind of partner would he be if he wasn’t willing to give you orgasm after orgasm, all because of his tongue and the talented ways he can use it?

Surely, you’re not complaining – how could you be, when he leaves you too fucked out to remember your own name afterwards?

DRIVE: 

Although his libido spikes up monumentally once you step into his life, Osamu is still not that dependent on sex. He likes the idea of being close to you; your bodies touching without an inch of air between you, your mouths working against one another while your tongue brush and suck, to the point where he’s fantasizing about it at least every other day.

But just because Osamu thinks of fucking you routinely, it doesn’t mean that’s the only form of intimacy he craves with you – no, as much as splitting open that cute little cunt with his fat cock makes him light headed and pleasantly dizzy, he’s almost as happy to hold you against his chest, to kiss the crown of your head and whisper little declarations of love against your skin.

He’s almost as satisfied holding your hand, letting his fingers trace yours, comparing the sizes of your palms and chuckling when you ogle at how much bigger his palms are. He just likes physically interacting with you in general, and therefore not everything has to be sexual. He’s just as content spending time with you in romantic, wholesome ways; things that get his cheeks dusting pink, his heart racing in his chest because you’re just too damn cute.

You’re so sweet to him, and particularly at the start of your captivity with him, he’s not very insistent on making things sexual. Of course, he’d never say no if you were to climb on top of him, to cup his cheeks and kiss him until your lungs give out, to grind your hips into his and beg him to make love to you. He’d have to be insane to deny you of that, really, particularly if you were to beg, to look at him with such pouty, full lips, to tell him you’d do anything, that you just wanna feel his cock and how full he can make you feel. Osamu is only a man after all, and one who’s weakness has always been – and will always be – you.

However, he’s content to wait for you, to get your consent before he touches you in any way that’ll make you moan or scream his name, wanting you to enjoy the moment, to like the pleasure he brings you. Plus, he has an active imagination – he can always find something to fantasize about, to tide him over until he can compare just how realistic his fantasies are to reality.

And honestly, that becomes one of his favorite hobbies once his feelings for you form – thinking up scenarios he sees in porn or develops on his own, imagining the way you’d respond.

Would you enjoy being tied up, your pretty wrists and ankles bound by a soft silk, your free movement totally restricted, relying entirely upon Osamu?

Would you moan and whine when he teases you, degrading you for being so needy, for wanting his cock so badly you can hardly stay still?

Would you like to be recorded, your pretty body on camera while he destroys you, rearranging your guts and stuffing you full of his cum as the recording captures every depraved moan, every desperate buck of your hips, every bit of drool that slips past your lips as you whine and moan his name, the way his hips smack into yours simply too much to handle?

He wants to know, fuck he wants to know, but he’s a patient man – he can wait, because doesn’t that make the treat just so much better when he finally gets you naked in front of him? Doesn’t it make it more rewarding when you finally expose that perfect, tight little pussy he knows you have all for his eyes?

He thinks so, so he’ll let you play coy, get comfortable, get needy, until your body can’t take it anymore and you jump him, too desperate for his cock and cum to control yourself.

In the meantime, once you’re in his captivity, Osamu will channel his desires for you in ways that let you know he’s most definitely thinking of you, but don’t require you to actually touch him. He’s so used to regularly touching himself that while it slightly embarrasses him, he doesn’t mind continuing this habit once you’re living under the same roof.

He’ll leave the door cracked open slightly to the bedroom, sitting against the pillows on your shared bed, leaning back and letting his eyes close as he strokes his cock, letting his voice get louder and louder. He’ll moan your name, gasping out praises and encouragements that match whatever fantasy is playing through his mind, all with the hope of not only getting off, but with the goal of having you hear him.

You aren’t in the room, not watching him from the end of the bed, but the condo is only so big – you will be able to hear him, even if you don’t want to. You can hear the way he moans breathlessly, his voice starting off steady and low but eventually climbing to a higher timber, sounding like something out some audio porn.

It’s hot, if you’re being honest, but especially towards the beginning of your captivity, you don’t want it to be.

And when he moans your name?

Well, you can fight it as much as you want, but it’s difficult to ignore the way he sounds so desperate, the pleasure clearly making his voice unsteady, the hoarse quality to it as he nears his orgasm.

You’ll hate how it affects you, how you have to shift your thighs and ignore the way a wetness builds up in your panties, but isn’t it only natural to be that affected by someone sounding so fucking desperate while they moan your name and stroke themselves to the thought of you?

Osamu is shameless, truly, and as he gets more comfortable with doing this, he’ll invest in bottles of lube, anything to make the squelching noise of his fist against his cock louder for you. It sounds so wet, so dirty, so messy, that even if you don’t want to come closer, you’ll find yourself slowly inching closer to the bedroom door, the crack just enough to give you a better show of his self pleasure.

You’ll hear the way he hisses under his breath, how his little gasps and groans are more defined this close up, how the mattress squeaks slightly as he chases his hand with every upwards stroke, trying to keep the flighting sensation of pleasure alight. He’s a sight to see, really, and one day, when the horniness and curiosity are just too much for you to ignore, you’ll take a peek inside, looking through the crack into what may be the dirtiest thing you’ve ever seen.

He’s shirtless, his chest bare and looking perfect to touch, because while he may have lost his defined abs, he’s most definitely attractive – perfect, you might even find yourself saying. He’s wearing gray sweatpants, the waistline pulled down enough to release his cock and balls, the pale skin flushed bright red as he works himself towards orgasm. His hand is quick, nearly to fast to see, and suddenly the intensity of the squelching noises makes sense.

You can see lube and precum shining on his skin, the light from the overhead appliance doing nothing to hide how messy it all is. His mouth hangs open, lips parted as he breaths raggedly, gasps and groans slipping out as he cries out your name in between moans.

He’s shaking, his thighs and biceps tensing periodically, his hips jerking and spasming, and you can’t help the way your fingers reach down, between your panties and shorts, brushing against your clit – which is already much, much more sensitive than you’d realized. You’re quick to rub harsh, frantic circles against the bud, your arousal peaking, watching with wide eyes as he loses himself, his cries of your name sounding shrill and higher, growing in volume until he’s coming, ropes of cum shooting up onto his chest as he whines your name.

You think you even see a tear falling down his cheek, the intensity of his orgasm just too fucking much.

You watch for a few more moments, eyes fixated on the way his cum oozes down his chest, and somewhere in the back of your mind you idly wonder what it tastes like – surely, a man with such a good diet would have a decent taste…

You shake yourself out of it, ripping your hands out of your panties as he opens his eyes and makes direct eye contact with you, his cheeks flushing an even darker shade of red, your legs carrying you away as fast as you can.

You don’t see it, too busy locking yourself in the bathroom and trying to calm your racing heart, but Osamu can’t help but swallow and grin, reliving the way he’d watched your hand come out of your panties, you obviously touching yourself while watching him…

He’s sure it won’t be long until you’re ready to actually fuck him, until you’re ready to give him everything, just as he’s ready to give you everything in return.

MAIN KINKS:

BODY WORSHIP

Generally, Osamu finds you beautiful. He’s known for a very, very long time that you’re his ideal woman; your hair color, texture, eye color, body type, every asset you possess. There’s not a thing about you that he wishes to change, and while you may find this hard to believe, Osamu needs you to understand that he’s being honest.

He hates the idea of you being insecure about anything on your beautiful body, and so he makes it his mission in the bedroom to convince you of his honesty, to convince you that he’s genuinely in love with everything about you.

And to do this, what better way than to start every intimacy session with a slow, vulnerable, intense series of kisses against every body part of yours, his eyes never leaving your own?

He’ll always start with your lips – pressing kisses against them, his tongue coming out to play with yours as he groans into it, sighing heavily and getting comfortable as he situates himself above you on the bed. He loves pulling away afterwards, your lips all swollen and puffy, your eyes glassy as they stare up at him, breaths tumbling out of you because wow, Osamu is a good kisser.

(You don’t need to know how often he stayed up in the night practicing on his hand before he had you – he’s kissed plenty of people before, sure, but he wanted to be perfect for you.)

He’ll  tell you that yer so pretty babe, love the way yer lips taste. He’s already breathless as he says this, his voice husky and just barely above a whisper. It feels like a secret he’s telling you; like it’s something only the two of you get to know, like he’s trusting you with something important that you shouldn’t squander. He’ll press kisses against your cheeks and forehead, smiling against your skin as he tells you that he loves the way your skin is so soft, how your cheeks are so cute ‘n squishy, wanna pinch ‘em every time I see ya, cutie.

He’ll move down onto your neck, licking along your jugular and leaving slight hickies, feeling the way you squirm slightly under him, the embarrassment of such personal attention making you antsy. He loves it, and as he moans against your neck, he’ll make sure you feel how he’s affected by rutting his clothed crotch against your hip, his boxers doing very little to hide the prominent bulge trapped beneath them.

He’ll press kisses into your collarbones, using a finger to trace their shape as he smiles up at you from under his lashes, licking his lips as he tells you this is my favorite spot to mark ya up, y’know. Love it when yer all purple here, makes sure everyone knows yer mine. Of course, no one will ever see your collarbone but him, but there’s something about the possessive lilt of his voice that gets shivers running down your spine, straight to your cunt.

He’s already got you stripped naked, and as he moves down and cups your breasts with his hands, you see the way his cheeks light up, a dusting of bright red smattering across the bridge of his nose. Fuck, yer perfect baby, so fuckin’ pretty… ya feel how hard yer making me? It’s all for ya, ‘m so hard because yer just too damn sexy. He grinds against your leg again to prove his point, his fingers massaging at your breasts, and you gulp, moaning slightly at the treatment.

He smirks and leans down to capture your nipples into his mouth, feeling the way they harden up as he blows his breath against them, licking and sucking against the sensitive skin. He moans against your skin, moving his head to your sternum and vigorously shaking it, his silvery hair looking like moonlight as you whine and cover your face, too embarrassed to watch.

This makes Osamu smile, and as he leans up again and presses his lips against yours in a quick kiss, he can’t help but chuckle. Been wantin’ to do that for so long, baby, dreamed about it every night for a month straight, these pretty tits in my face, in my mouth, ‘round my cock…

He trails off, his hands coming down to press against your stomach. Love this tummy babe, so pretty when yer all full – full of my food, he kisses right underneath your left breast. Full of my love, a matching kiss under your right. Full of my cum, right where it should be. He finishes with a long lick from your sternum down to your bellow button, blowing a raspberry against it while you giggle and squirm.

He smiles and laughs too, the sound of your voice making him grow impossibly harder. He spreads your legs slightly, looking up at you from his place between them, moving so that his head is merely inches away from your pussy.

He kisses up your knees and the insides of your thighs, moaning against your skin as he palms himself through his boxers. Ya get me so excited, love, this pussy’s so fuckin’ cute, could make me cum just from lookin’ at it. He closes his eyes and presses his nose against your folds, making you jump slightly. He groans, deeply, before growling out in a voice much deeper and gravelly than before how he could cum just from smellin’ it, fuuuck.

And soon, his tongue is working at your clit, his eyes never leaving yours even as you bite your lip and try to look away, too embarrassed to keep eye contact. He’s groaning and telling you how fucking good you taste, how it’s exactly how I imagined baby, tastes like heaven, never wanna stop eaten’ this cunt. So wet for me, fuck do I make ya this wet?

He loves the way you babble out a whiny yes, letting your hands thread through his hair as he eats you out, suctioning at your clit while his fingers press against that spongey spot inside of you, curling and scissoring them as he humps the best, rambling on about the way you make him so hard, so horny, so needy. He tells you it’s all your fault, that your body’s just too perfect, too warm and welcoming, how you should be ashamed of how sexy you are.

He just loves you, really, and as he lines himself up to finally, finally fuck you, he can’t help but moan that he loves you,  pushing inside slowly and telling you that you feel so damn good, fuuuuck ‘m not gonna last baby, oh fuckfuckfuck –

Osamu really, really loves your body, and he’s not shy about telling you – plus, there’s something about the embarrassment on your face when he does this that makes him that much more desperate to fuck you, that much more desperate to stuff you so full of his cum that you’re leaking it for days.

ORAL FIXATION

Osamu has always been a fan of oral.

Even before you walked into his life, there was a part of him that preferred good head over actual fucking any day of the week – he can’t explain, but he likes how personal it is, how intimate and vulnerable it is to have someone’s mouth working at him, to have his own mouth working at someone else.

He just enjoys it, the warmth of tongues and spit, and once you step into his world? Well, he without a doubt absolutely wants to fuck you – he wants to fuck you so hard that you’re crying, that big tears are welling down your cheeks, that you’re too spaced out to even remember where you are, who you are, anything but his name and his cock. Obviously he wants to feel your cute, tight little pussy wrapped around him, but just as he’s always fantasized about head, this fixation only grows worse once you’re in the picture, the idea of you worshipping his body making him light headed, his pants already growing tight.

Because really, there’s something about the attention you’d be giving him that makes him feel shaky, his heart racing in his chest, his throat going dry because wow, would you really be willing to take him into your mouth? Would you be willing to get on our knees for him, to stroke him and drool on him, to let him stretch out that throat of yours and cum down your throat?

Osamu loses his cool merely thinking about it, and so the first time you actually move to take him into your mouth, he nearly passes out. There’s just something so intimate about the way you bite your lip and tell him that you want to taste him. There’s just something so sinful about the way you shimmy up between his legs as he sits perched on the couch, his legs spread wide while his cock bobs with every small movement he makes.

It’s twitching, pre-cum already dribbling from his engorged slit, and he can’t take his off of the way you lick your lips, moving impossibly closer so that your lips are merely inches away from him. He throws his head back in ecstasy the first time you kitten lick at him, groans tumbling from his lips as you suck on his head, your tongue slipping along his slit, dipping in slightly and making his hands latch onto your head, pulling ever so slightly at your hair.

He just loses himself when your mouth is on him; he’s moaning and whining out your name, praises, telling you how good you’re doing, how he’s never felt so good, how you’re going to make him come so fast, too fast. It's euphoric, and as he gets closer, he’ll start unconsciously bucking his hips, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed so tightly shut while his mouth hangs open, stuttered breaths and ragged moans free falling.

He’ll push your head down without meaning to, the pleasure just feeling so good that he needs more more more, and to feel the way you gag and whine around him makes Osamu’s gut clench, his orgasm hurdling towards him even faster.

His toes curl, his abdominal muscles flexing, and a non-stop stream of your name is spilling past his lips, the words slurring together as he begs you to keep going, begging you to not stop, fuck baby please – pleasepleasepleaseplease ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum for ya oh baby fuck-

He’s always brought over the edge if you play with his balls; your soft fingers toying at the extremely sensitive flesh, squeezing lightly and mouthing at them, running patterns over them with your tongue and letting one slip into your mouth to suckle, moaning around him and making his hips jerk near violently.

He insists that he always cum either down your throat, on your face or on your tits, sometimes all three. He’ll watch with lidded eyes and heavy breaths as his cum splatters across your breasts, the off-white rolling down over your nipples and dripping onto your thighs below, the sensation of the warm cum oozing down your body making you shiver. He’s mesmerized by the sight, his chest falling and rising so rapidly he almost looks like he may pass out.

He’s too lost in the post-orgasm glow to move after you finish sucking him off, and it’s only once you press a kiss to his lips that he snaps out of his haze, tasting himself on you and making his mind race.

He always wants to return the favor, to get between your legs and make you cry out his name, to get you coming over and over on his tongue, even to get you squirting; that’s always his goal, and whether or not he’s been successful doesn’t deter him. He wants to taste just as badly as he wants you to taste him, so you’d better get used to frequent and persistent head from Osamu – he’s just expressing his love, after all.

He loves you, loves the way you taste, the way you pull on his hair and cry out his name, how your hips buck and twitch as he brings you closer and closer, how you let out that cute little gasp if his fingers dip down to brush against your asshole, so taboo and strange.

Osamu just really, really likes using both his and your mouth in the bedroom, so hopefully you’re a fan of oral – and if not, you will be by the time he’s down with you. He’ll make sure of it.

BONDAGE

While Osamu enjoys wandering hands during sex, he’s equally as turned on by the prospect of restraints. There’s something undeniably hot about tying you up, or being tied up during your intimacy, and while he won’t be the first to bring it up, if you were to ever express interest he’d immediately jump you.

From the moment his sexual urges towards you formed, Osamu has been on the lookout for as many different kinds of sexual restraints as he can – he has a collection, one he keeps hidden from you until you express said interest. He doesn’t want you to find out, if only because he’s scared you’ll think it’s weird, that you’ll be turned off by the idea of being tied up, completely at his mercy. He’s got everything from handcuffs, silk ties, embroidery rope, and everything in between – he can utilize anything you want, whatever fits your particular fantasies.

(Although, his personal favorites are the silk ties, only because it’s softer on your skin and he thinks their softness matches you perfectly. He’s got all kinds of pastels, and he’ll always choose the color that looks best against your skin, making you look like a cute little gift for him to unwrap and fuck.)

It’s the protective instincts within him that really fuel this kink; he likes the idea of you giving yourself up to him, trusting him with not only your pleasure and ability to orgasm, but also with your physical movements, making you entirely at his mercy.

He likes the rush of power he gets from this, and while he has no intentions of leaving you or hurting you in any way, there’s something about the knowledge that he could that gets his cock hard, that gets him breathing heavy, that gets his hands itching at his sides to touch you. He finds that he particularly likes to tie your wrists and ankles to the bed, leaving you spread out in an almost star position, your breasts and pussy perfectly exposed.

You look up at him with such vulnerability, biting your lip and watching his every move that it almost makes him nervous, almost insecure, almost unsure. But then he’s touching you and you’re moaning his name, your pussy sucking in his fingers as if they belong there, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. It’s all so good, enough to get him biting his lip and struggling to not just ram his cock into you and fuck you until he’s spilling everything inside you, but he holds himself back.

After all, when he’s got you tied up like this, he has all the power; he can do whatever he wants to you, whenever he wants to. He could leave you with a vibrator against your cute little clit for hours, get you squirming and begging, a pool of cum sitting below your pelvis as you weakly jerk back and forth, the vibrations from the toy making your brain fuzzy.

He could lick and suck at your pussy, kissing your clit and fingering you until you’re right on the edge of orgasm, so fucking close until he suddenly stops, the pleasure fading as you whine and beg him to keep going, telling him you need more, need him.

He could straddle your tummy, pushing your breasts together as he thrusts between them, fucking your tits while he groans and throws his head back, the sight erotic for you but not giving you nearly as much pleasure as you want.

The possibilities are endless, and while he’s not cruel enough to do most of those ideas to you in real life, Osamu does enjoy the way you become dependent on him to make you orgasm. He likes to hear the way you beg him, how your voice breaks slightly as you get closer, your wrists tugging against the restraints as you close your eyes and moan, your lips permanently parted into that pretty ‘o’ shape.

He likes to watch you come undone, asking you if you need it baby? Need me to make ya come, huh? He wants to hear you screaming yes and his name, slurred together as he makes you come again and again and again, because this is what you wanted, right? To feel good?

And if you were to ever express interest in tying him up, Osamu would gladly do it. He wouldn’t until quite late into your captivity with him, until he knows that you wouldn’t take the opportunity to run, but once he feels comfortable, he can’t deny the euphoric feeling of you hovering over him, your lips quirking up into a smile as you tell him how cute he looks, all tied up and begging for you.

He wants you to tease him, to make his cock flush pink and leak, to get him moaning and twisting at the restrains, to have his hips desperately bucking up, chasing your hand as you oh so fucking slowly stroke him. He likes the way you have control, how you’re giving him so much attention, sprinkling in praises of how proud you are of him, how well he’s taking it, how he’s such a pretty boy underneath you like this.

He wants you to overstimulate him, to get him crying, and once you untie him he’ll scoop you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest and whispering to you that he loves you.

He’ll spend the rest of the night by your side, not letting you out of his embrace for even a moment, because now that he feels so close to you, how could he possibly let go? You’re perfect, after all, and you only get more perfect when you’re all tied up for him, all needy and helpless and his.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

FACESITTING

Going hand in hand with his oral fixation, Osamu quickly finds that although he’s never done it with a woman before you, he absolutely adores having you sit on his face.

There’s something so trusting and intimate about it that makes him absolutely crazy; you trust him enough to let yourself be vulnerable on top of him, your thighs caging in his head and your pretty pussy at the perfect angle for him to ravage and destroy.

It’s so, so fucking hot, and from essentially your first few sexual encounters, Osamu will be somewhat shyly bringing it up, oddly scared that you’ll reject this fantasy of his. He’s always been too nervous to try it before, but with you, it feels like the ultimate form of worship. Like by doing it, he’s treating you the way you deserve – making sure everything is about you, that you’re enjoying yourself, that you’re finding the pleasure you deserve to feel.

And so, when you shakily agree to his plan, Osamu can’t help the way a giant grin splits across his face, excitement brewing in his veins as he strips off his clothing, practically throwing himself on the bed and wetting his lips, staring at you expectantly. Even if you try to tell him that you don’t want to crush him, that you’re worried you’ll break him or that you’ll look ugly from that angle, he’s having none of it. With every negative word that comes out of your mouth, he’s keeping count and telling you he’ll make you come that many times, that you’ve said you’ll crush me five times now baby, guess ‘m gonna have to make you cream five times, maybe you’ll even squirt for me, eh?

He’s quick to adjust you so that you’re fully sitting on him, slapping your hip harshly and telling you to just let go, to let your full weight drop on him, and if you were to look behind you, you’d see the way his hips buck up once you do as exactly as he says. He loves the way you suffocate him, how everything he can breathe, feel and taste is pussy, your pussy, his favorite thing on Earth.

And as he gets working, running his tongue along your folds and rubbing at your clit in figure eight motions, he finds that you’re so much more sensitive this way; he can see the way your tummy bulges out, your breasts looking tantalizing above his head, the angle he sees you at so strange yet so fucking hot.

It’s a wet dream come true, and as he encourages you to grind against his face, he can only squeeze his eyes shut and will himself not to cum, because the sensory overload is just too much. He’ll use his free hand so slap your ass, and if you were to reach behind you and toy with his cock, stroking or even squeezing it?

Well, don’t be surprised when a splatter of warm wetness hits your back, the moan he lets out downright sinful against your sensitive folds. He just really, really likes having you sit on his face, and he could leave you there for hours, idly nibbling on you and drinking up every last drop of slick you can offer him.

It’s heaven.

BITING

Osamu, in general, doesn’t like causing you pain. He’s not particularly interested in anything in the bedroom that could hurt you; he doesn’t want to see you bleeding or crying in anything other than pleasure, and for the most part he stays far away from anything like that, even if you beg him to try it.

However, the one thing he eventually relents and gives into trying if you bring it up is biting. Maybe it’s because it’s less inherently violent than slapping you around, than drawing a knife to your skin, or maybe it’s because there’s something so feral about it, so animalistic and natural.

He’s not sure, but the first time he lightly sinks his teeth against your flesh, an audible groan slips past his lips. There’s something so primal about it, like he’s staking his claim on you in the most basic, human way possible – leaving his teeth marks on your soft skin. He never bites hard enough to break the skin or leave any scars, but Osamu doesn’t mind; it’s about the heat of the moment, claiming you as his.

You're his lover, his woman, his to love and touch and fuck and cherish. And so, once this habit begins forming, Osamu takes nearly every opportunity he can to lightly bite you in the bedroom; when you’re throwing your head back and moaning as he thrusts into you, he’s sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, moaning against your skin as he licks and sucks at the area trapped between his jaws.

When your face is pressed into the mattress, your ass high in the air as he gropes and squeezes at it, he’s biting into the suppleness of your cheeks, making you squirm and moan into the pillow as he reaches under to rub fast circles at your clit.

He’ll even lightly bite at your nipples and breasts, paying extra care to not hurt you, but knowing that when you ride him, your tits are right fucking there, and how can he deny himself?

It’s something he never thought he’d see himself doing, but it just feels so right – and god, when you return the favor? When you sink your own teeth into his skin, biting down and claiming him as yours? Fuck, Osamu feels like he’s in heaven, the sensation of very slight pain making his cock stir inside of you, twitching and that much closer to filling you up with his seed.

He just likes the idea that you want to mark him back, that you consider him yours as he considers you his, and he’ll let you bite as hard as you want. He’s strong, he can take anything you give him, so please – bite him as much as you like, as hard as you like, as often as you like. He’ll enjoy it, he promises.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

When it comes to fantasies, Osamu is game to try pretty much anything you’d like to. His only hard and fast rules are no hurting you, and nothing that involves extreme humiliation. In that respect, he’s not especially harsh in the bedroom, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to be in a more dominant position, to get you squirming and crying out his name.

No, in fact that’s what he loves most – seeing you turn into a shaking, desperate mess right before his very eyes, all because of what he’s done to your body. As a result, Osamu quickly learns that one of the things he loves to do with you is to overstimulate you.

There’s something beautiful about the way you shake and writhe, how your eyes squeeze closed as the pleasure doesn’t let up, even after you’ve come and your body cries out for relief. He thinks you look so pretty as you beg him to stop, that you’re too sensitive, that you can’t take it because it’s too – too much ‘Samu, I can’t!

He’ll always shush you, kissing you and smothering your cries with his lips and tongue, still rubbing those circles against your clit that have you spasming below him. He likes pushing you to the brink as many times as he can, and while he enjoys the rush of power that comes from knowing he’s the one that’s driven you so crazy, the root of this fantasy is his protectiveness. He likes the idea of taking care of you, and this carries over into the bedroom as well – there’s something so romantic about making you come, about watching you fall apart just for him, your body trembling and your face twisting up into that pretty expression you make when you’re coming.

It’s addictive, really, so much so that Osamu is willing to swallow his pride and invest in something that’ll make getting you off much, much easier. That is, while he doesn’t inherently have any problems with toys, there’s a certain piece of his pride that’s lost when he buys the vibrator. There’s some part of him that wonders whether his mouth, fingers and cock aren’t enough, whether you need this stupid toy to feel good.

He’s hesitant to first use it, worried that you’ll enjoy the silicone more than his own touch, but the moment he presses the vibrations against your body, he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re gasping and clawing at his chest, the overstimulation hitting your body in waves because you just fucking came on his tongue.

You’re incoherent, babbling and trying to string words together that have no meaning, and Osamu can only watch with wide eyes, his lips parted and drool threatening to spill out because fuck, you’re so hot like this. You’re falling apart right before his eyes, the pleasure almost hurting because it’s too intense, but Osamu can’t find it in himself to care – especially not when you’re coming again a few minutes later, tears streaming down your cheeks as he keeps the toy over your clit, the vibrations never ending even as your body threatens to give out.

It’s just so goddamn hot, and Osamu knows that buying the toy was a good choice – you’ll never like it more than himself, he’s sure, but it gets the job done, and at the end of the day as long as you’ve come more times than he can count, isn’t that all that matters?

“Feel good, baby?” Osamu asks, his voice husky as he leans down to lick at your clit again. You warble something out, an affirmation to his question that makes him growl and work harder at your nub, his fingers pumping at a steady pace inside of you. They’re callused, years of volleyball and cooking making them steady, precise, the texture feeling like heaven against your gooey, spongey walls.

Osamu groans, letting the vibrations roll against your sensitive skin. You jerk slightly at that, the stimulation to your clit making your head dizzy, but the building pleasure in your navel distracts you. With a sharp gasp, you’re whining out his name, “O-osamu, please ‘m gonna come! Don’t stop, oh fuck please don’t stop!”

Your cries motivate him, his eyes staring up at you as he watches your lips part, wanton moans falling past them as you twitch around his fingers, your walls clenching like wild, even your clit seeming to throb under his tongue. He uses his free hand to reach up and grope at your breasts, squeezing the flesh and pinching at your nipples, anything to give you that extra stimulation he knows will having you falling off the edge.

And, a few seconds later, you do – with a heavenly cry of his name, all broken up by your own moans and gasps, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he keeps up the pace. You’re shaking, chanting his name like a prayer and threading your fingers through his short hair. Closing your eyes and hoping to recover your breath, your brows squeeze together at the sound of something buzzing.

“’Samu, what are you – oh!” You cut yourself off with a cry, your hips jerking upwards as Osamu places the baby blue toy against your bundle of nerves. Your body lights up, the pleasure seeming to pierce through you as Osamu continues to finger you, his gray eyes watching with hazy lust as you lose your mind.

“Too much! Oh fuck – fuck, shit, ‘Samu I can’t – too sensitive -!” It’s hard to make out what you’re saying over the sound of your own moans, the pressure building in your stomach seeming to ebb and flow as the vibrations destroy your clit. It’s too much, truly – you feel an overload of pleasure, the onslaught to much to even process.

“Fuck princess, ya look so hot like this, gonna make me cum.” Osamu groans, letting his head fall against your thigh as he removes his fingers, licking at your cum and cleaning them dry. A strangled moan falls past his lips at your taste, and as he shifts himself to sit up, he keeps the toy pressed firmly against your cunt. You’re crying, he thinks, your eyes tearing up as you moan and writhe, and though he worries for a moment that this hurts you more than pleasures you, your little cries of ‘s-so good’ have him grunting instead.

He changes the vibration pattern on the toy, now a steady throb-throb-throb that has your abdominal muscles visibly clenches, the pleasure driving you crazy with need. He’s mesmorized, watching like a child on Christmas as your lips part and get caught between your teeth, your body and face absolutely wrecked.

It’s not long before you’re slowly getting close again, your body tensing up and your muscles contracting, and Osamu watches with baited breath as you scream his name, your body winding up as your second orgasm hits you, much more explosive than your first. More slick oozes from your hole, visibly contracting and making his mouth water. He can’t wait anymore – he’s been a fucking saint so far, holding back in favor of making you feel good, but at the way you’re grasping at the pillows behind your head, your tits bouncing as you shake and tremble, Osamu’s lunging forward.

He's quick to align his cock with your cunt, already dripping pre-cum and desperate to feel you. He groans deeply as he slides inside, his voice cracking as he moans out, “So – so fucking tight baby, how’rya this fucking tight Jesus –“

You cut him off with a gasp of your own, the feeling of something so big stretching you out in the midst of your pleasure making tears slip down your cheeks. He’s still holding the vibrator over your clit, and you almost can’t feel it anymore, the sensation so strong. You claw at his shoulders, bringing him down for a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates as he beings thrusting into you. You’re so wet like this; wet and tight and fucking warm, and Osamu swears as he pulls back from the kiss, his own orgasm approaching embarrassingly quickly.

He whines as he fucks into you, his face red while sweat drips at his temples, and though you’re nearly too fucked out to notice, Osamu gasps your name as he comes, sending spurts of hot, potent cum directly inside you. The sensation of his orgasm and the vibrations together send you over the edge, your final climax of the night as you scream his name and go limp, the pleasure making black spots dance along the edges of your vision.

Your body jerks as he turns the vibrator off, your skin clammy and sweaty as you stare unseeingly up at the ceiling, trying desperately to catch your breath. Osamu’s equally as breathless, scooping you into his arms as he holds you, kissing you and running his hand over your hair, whispering how well you did.

You’re too fucked out to listen, of course, but as Osamu holds you against his chest and coos at you, trying to recover from what may have been the best orgasm of his life, he can’t help but laugh a bit. You’re perfect, truly, and your pleasure ridden expression at the height of your orgasm just proves it.

[riddle-me-ri]

A/N: heyo so this was a request from a super sweet friend of mine who wanted to remain anonymous! They wanted a little sweet, romantic, and wholesome fic with BTAS Mad Hatter just truly perplexed that someone outside of his wildest fantasies can actually exist! It was such a sweet and wholesome idea, I couldn't not write it lol. Hope y'all enjoy!

Trigger Warning: none, just really super fluffy and romantic, you may get cavities it’s pretty sweet.

Word Count: 627

BTAS Mad Hatter x Reader - Better Than A Dream

For once the sun pierced through the thick depressing smog that often plagued Gotham City. 

A frabjous day indeed for Jervis to spend time with his beloved. 

The bright rays showered the both of you, warming you two like a weighted blanket

Jervis’ head was nestled in your lap. His eyes closed, not yet asleep but on the brink of dozing. He was almost certain he was dreaming, he had to have been…if he was, he was sure he didn’t want to wake up. 

Your hands steadily raked through his golden hair. Occasionally, you would pause the book you were reading out loud to grant him a small kiss on his forehead. Sometimes you’d kiss his cheek or his nose instead, both willing victims to your kisses. 

Jervis couldn’t help but feel a little remorseful. He had long forgotten what you were reading, not that he wouldn’t catch up, it was his favorite book after all. 

He just couldn’t help himself. You were just so enchanting…so wonderful. 

Jervis slowly fluttered his eyes open to gaze at you.

There you still were, just as radiant as before. Even more than the version he saw when he drifted off for a bit. 

In all his years of solitude, longingly seeking companionship in the recesses of his mind in his dreams or through his machinations in reality. 

None of them could compare to the real deal. 

The real you and the genuine love between the two of you. 

Oh, no Wonderland beyond his wildest imagination could conjure up a vision such as you. 

“Jervis?” 

All of a sudden your voice cut through the white noise. Your voice soft and sweet like a tea party delicacy. 

“Yes, darling?” He asked, slightly propping himself up to properly face you. 

“Is, is everything okay?” You inquired with your face slightly flushed red. 

“Why, everything is grand, darling-why do you ask?” 

“You were just…quiet and,” you giggled nervously as your cheeks continued to redden. “You were staring.”

Jervis hummed amused. It tickled him how utterly unaware of how beautiful and magnificent you are. Especially to him. 

What he wouldn’t give for a looking glass that showed you how you look to him. Maybe you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much. 

Jervis sat up fully in front of you. He gave you a soft smile and reached out his hands to frame your face against his palms. His thumbs began gently caressing your cheeks. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I was just…ensuring you’re real…being with you is much like living a dream. I had to make sure you were truly there.” 

You giggled breathlessly, your hand came up to hold one of his own. “Oh, Jervis…shush! I’m real. I’m not a dream.”

“But you are beloved…you most certainly are! A dream within a dream! A dream that I’ve dreamt of for so long! So long…I thought for the longest it would just be that…a fantasy…a Wonderland I could only enjoy in my mind.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed softly, as you thought back to how Jervis mentioned how lonely he was before meeting you. How he felt like love and companionship was just constantly beyond his reach. 

You smiled at him after gently kissing the inside of his palm. “Well, the same can certainly be said for you too. Every time I’m with you it feels like I’m on Cloud 9.” 

Jervis’ smile widened as he leaned his face closer to yours, resting his forehead against your own.

One of his hands moved upward into your hair, he combed back a few loose strands that obscured your face. 

“It means the world to hear you say that, my darling.”

You beamed happily, playfully rubbing the tip of your nose against his own which made him chuckle. 

Jervis leaned in closer to you. His lips finally meeting yours in a sweet loving kiss. When the need for air became greater than your love, you two reluctantly pulled apart. 

“I love you…so much, darling. You are my Wonderland.” 

“I love you too…and you are my Mad Hatter.”

[cbsxreader]

if ur ok with more fantastical and/or meta stuff, could i please have the mercs with an s/o who was teleported to the tf2 verse from a much more serious setting and is still getting used to their comedic surroundings?

Oooh

Mercs with an S/o who is from a different universe

Tw: (slight mention of drinking in Demo's one)

Scout

Is a bit confused, since he's used to his world and hasn't really thought of it being different in some way.

But he does kind of understand his S/o's frustration, from what he's heard from them, his world doesn't seem bad in the slightest.

If his S/o asks him about something, he'll act as if he knows all about it, but his S/o can tell that he's just a motormouth. He does say the truth sometimes, but it sounds so outrageous that his S/o doesn't believe him anyways.

"Did ya' know that I'm God's gift to women?"

"Yeah...sure you are."

Soldier

Loves that his S/o is tough and ready for anything, but is oblivious to the fact that something must have happened to them that made them that way.

Once he does get it though, he is really protective of his S/o in the way that he teaches them his infamous necksnap, how to defend themselves and how to use certain weapons.

"You're doing great, cupcake!"

Pyro

Is kind of a distraction for his S/o.

Like, both the fact that they're strangelly wholesome and that they see the world completely differently makes their S/o worry less about everything else.

Pyro holds their S/o's hand if they are in public or are feeling paranoid.

If their S/o wants an explanation for something they'll have to ask someone else, but if their S/o tells them about it afterwards, they will draw a picture of them

Demoman

He is at a loss for words at first, because he, just like his coworkers, hasn't thought about his world differently from a different perspective.

He, for once, worries about his S/o drinking their trauma away and hides his alchohol better, locking it away in safes, lockers and cabinets.

If his S/o feels paranoid, he'll bring them away from people and soothe them.

Engineer

He's honestly sorry for it, but there are times when he's more enticed about how his S/o might have ended up in his world than his S/o's world itself or their backstory.

"Did ya' temper with anything that could have caused ya' to teleport to our universe?"

"...We were just talking about how leaders in my world killed people for no reason..."

"*clears throat* oh..right, my apologies...carry on..."

But other than that, he tackles one silly thing after another, telling his S/o about them as well as providing theories to them about his world to calm them down and keep them from overthinking.

Heavy

Is willing to act as a personal bodyguard for his S/o. He always stays by their side and makes sure they're not feeling paranoid or stressed.

If his S/o asks something about his world, he tries to explain it but quickly starts tripping over his words, apologizes and suggests they go and visit Medic or Engineer.

Heavy is also a good listener and wants to know what his S/o's world was like.

Medic

He is INVESTED in his S/o's world and backstory, gladly listening to them when they feel like talking about it. He even specifically asks to not leave out the gruesome and/or serious details.

S/o: *talking about a traumatizing event that dramatically changed their life*

Medic: *looking at his S/o, listening to them carefully, hand under his chin, unbothered by the theme*

Medic lets them watch his operations if his S/o needs a bit of space to breathe from exploring his comedic world.

Would try to explain anything that ponders his S/o's mind about his world, succeeding in explaining his medical adventures and achievements.

Sniper

He tries to slowly but steadily explain how the world works and he himself realizes how silly it is compared to his S/o's home.

"Wait, wait. So, New Zealand is underwater and you're the last person from there and Australia is full of buff people with moustaches, because of a metal very creatively called 'Australium'?"

"Yea...we're all so used these things that Oi haven't even thought why they work in such ways.."

He understands that his S/o is still paranoid and helps them get used to his world by making lighthearted jokes about their surroundings as well as actually gently soothing them when they're paranoid.

Spy

Spy is a bit confused at first, thinking his S/o is crazy. But he spends more time with them and from the way they talk, act and interact with their surroundings, he can tell that they're telling the truth.

If his S/o is paranoid or stressed, he lets them use his cloak, so they can observe the chaos from aside and learn the weirdness of his world without needing to worry about them getting involved in it.

Spy also promises his S/o that he's always going to make sure they're safe and will watch their back.

"From now on, zhere won't be a time when you aren't safe."

Ms. Pauling

Finally, someone understands her!

"Wow! And they called me crazy, can you believe it!?"

Pauling is a great listener and lets her S/o talk about themselves and their world, if it makes them feel better.

Always provides her S/o with something to always protect themselves with (guns, knives, tranquilizers - you name it)

She may or may not sneak her S/o in to her office, if they're feeling anxious about their surroundings.

Sorry for the wait, anon!

[vaya-writes]

The Wyvern's Bride - Part 3.7 (NSFW)

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

6800 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

All the smutty content warnings. There is penetrative sex. There is oral. There are handjobs. There is overstimulation and a little bit of edging. There's a heap of profanity and a bunch of fluff too.

I'll include content breaks if you don't want to see the explicit stuff, but the whole thing will be suggestive. This chapter IS about Adalyn seducing Slate. But it's also a confession chapter, so there's wholesome stuff for the non smut readers too.

Slate is steadily growing closer to his wit’s end. 

It had started with the nightgowns. The first had been a pale spring green colour. Modest in cut. Daring in meaning. The colour that wyverns tend to flush around their mates. Signifying trust. Fondness. Love. He’d never expected anyone to do that around him.  

But Adalyn can’t possibly know that. 

She’s been wearing them every night whilst lying beside him.  

Things had escalated during yesterday’s beach date. (Outing. Trip. Whatever.) He should have said something. She’d asked him what to wear, and he hadn’t said anything about the colour. It had to be his fault, really. If he’d said something, perhaps she wouldn’t have worn that sky blue delight. Had the audacity to wear such a shade in public. Blue, the colour of attraction, desire, lust.  

He wants to strangle the cousin who’d gifted it to her. Or thank them. He’s not sure yet, there are too many feelings he needs to sort out. Mostly because females only flush blue when they’re open to advances.  

Another thing Adalyn couldn’t possibly have known. Especially with that genuine smile, and that sweet look of focus whenever he’d chatter about something most people found boring. It wasn’t wanton behaviour. Even if wearing the colour beside him in public had made his brain stall several times. 

He’d barely been able to look at her. Had spoken about every fun fact under the sun to stop from spilling his guts or disgracing himself. Because there’s no way Adalyn had meant anything by the dress.  

She’d married him to save him from embarrassment. To try something new, away from the mundanity of life in Fleecehold. Not because she was attracted to him. Not because she wanted him.  

He’d decided it must be Rin, playing a trick on him. Especially as things intensified. Starting with that letter. That parcel. The only thing Adalyn had said about it was that Rin had sent her a book.  

So, he’d deduced that this is Rin’s doing: Adalyn wearing more and more of those colours. A green tunic here. A blue shawl there. The nightgowns fray at his sanity the most, gradually getting shorter or more elaborate. 

He doesn’t sleep well. Lies perfectly still in the bed next to Adalyn, entertaining thoughts that are downright obscene. Frustratingly aroused, most mornings he has to excuse himself before she wakes, to find a private spot in which he can relieve himself. He tries not to think about her when he does. Tries and fails.  

The touches are equally tantalising in their torment. She’d started small. Innocent brushes here and there. A hand on his elbow. A bump against his shoulder. Adalyn reaching up to straighten his collar, or brush hair out of his face. Always with a smile. Gentle grazes that drive him mad. 

Lunch breaks are fraught with tension. Since he’d helped her with the garden, Adalyn has incorporated handfeeding Slate into her repertoire. Offering bites of her own pastries or catching him when his hands are otherwise occupied. Today Slate emerges from her wing, filthy, to find her holding his lunch. 

“Open,” she demands. 

He does so without hesitation. Is scarce able to breathe at her proximity, at her intense stare. He feels his cheeks flush grey-green, but is unable to look away, unable to hide any of the awe or desire from his face.  

She uses her thumb to brush some crumbs from the corner of his mouth, and he damn near melts. She smirks at his reaction, and that’s when he begins to suspect that she’s complicit in the attempts on his control.  

It has to be intentional, at the point. It has to be. The colours, the touches, the ancestors damned pheromones. She’s wearing them again, he notices, not for the first time.  

It had gotten so much worse when she’d unearthed the perfume. Rin’s gift, he begrudgingly remembers. The explosion of scents and pheromones that had given him a headache when first revealed. Now skilfully applied, just faintly enough that at first he thought they might have been his imagination.  

Scents that beckoned him closer. That bade him lean forward when she walked past, or that made him hyperaware of where she was in the room. Ones that whispered hello and tried to put him at ease. Others that got under his skin with how daringly inviting they were, almost begging him to reach out and touch Adalyn.  

Today she’s wearing one of the latter. Along with a teal dress – unseasonably short. He’d be concerned for her wellbeing if he weren’t so busy sneaking glances at her woollen leggings. Or the way the dress clings to her chest. And her ass.  

Ancestors, is he really ogling her so openly? He has to shake his head clear before recentring. She has him in such a daze, that he hadn’t processed any of their conversation. Had he even said anything? Had she? He’s searching his memory when Adalyn turns away and bends to pick up the picnic basket.  

He watches the dress creep up the back of her legs, completely rapt again.  

A strained sound escapes his throat, breaking the spell and startling him out of his trance.  

She’s packing up and he has no recollection of eating. He really did sit through the visit, mute and staring. He curses himself. He’s becoming a pervert and a lecher.  

“I’ll see you at dinner,” she smiles at him, and it hurts.  

He watches her leave before looking down and realising with shame that he’s hard again. It’s probably a contributing factor to his dizziness.  

The only thing that holds him back is perhaps she doesn’t realise just how strong of an effect these things are having. If she’s trying to make him want to jump her, to pin her to the bed and fuck her for hours on end, then mission accomplished.  

But if she’s just trying to court him, to encourage him closer, to tell him it’s okay to feel things, to care about her more than they’d discussed...  

He doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know what to make of the advances.  

It comes to a head when Slate returns from work that night. Adalyn has made dinner again and is dressed in the same teal dress she’d worn at lunch, though she’s stripped out of her shoes and leggings. Her scent wraps around him – inviting and lovely – and he sits and readies himself for another painstaking meal.  

He glances up when she asks about his day, and nearly drops his fork. She’s wearing makeup. Which by itself isn’t a big deal. She’d spent the past few days experimenting and trying on different cosmetics. But tonight her lips are painted a washed out blue and there’s a pale eyeshadow to match.  

It’s ridiculous, but the colour goes right to his hemi. He stares back down at his food, a bit shellshocked, completely spacing on the question she’d asked him.  

“Sorry, I missed what you said?” 

“I said, what did you get up to today?” 

“Oh, uh, the usual. I spent some time in your wing working on the second floor. Then...” he looks again. Can’t stop himself from glancing back up at her too innocent expression, her carefully composed interest and smile.  

He loses track of his words again. “You know, just the usual.” 

Adalyn regales Slate with details of her day while he forces himself to eat. He barely tastes the food. Barely hears what she’s saying. He’s not sure if he’s more in a hurry to finish and leave the table or dreading what comes next.  

Adalyn finishes before he does, and watches him eat with a stare that’s almost predatory. For a moment Slate forgets himself. Forgets his size and his magic and his near immortality. He feels like her prey. A thrill goes through him at the thought. He squashes it down immediately. 

“I think I’ll go do some more work before bed,” Slate mutters, standing once he finishes. 

“Slate.” 

He halts at his name.  

“Please sit back down.” 

He does, face flushing; worried that he appears too eager.  

Adalyn stands and approaches him. All his nerves strain when she stops behind him and rests her hands on his shoulders. He feels like he could jump out of his skin. 

“You should take a break. Are you really going to work through the night?” 

Mute, he shakes his head, mesmerised by her tone. Her words are masked with faux sympathy.  

“Good,” she murmurs, before kneading his shoulders.  

Slate’s face turns greener when a whine escapes his throat. He covers his mouth and coughs, hoping to disguise the slip.  

Adalyn huffs her amusement before digging her fingers in, unknotting his shoulders and working her way down his back. He feels like putty beneath her touch, mouth slightly agape, entire self-control devoted to keeping any more embarrassing noises to himself.  

When she stops he could almost cry, but instead things intensify when Adalyn rounds the chair and takes a seat on his lap. 

He stares at her, eyes too wide. 

“Is this okay?” For a moment she seems hesitant. Doubt creeping into her expression. 

He nods, almost frantic in the movement. “Mhm.” 

She sags in relief before looping her arms around his neck. It puts her face a little too close to his, and he swallows; the only movement he’ll allow. 

She crinkles her nose. “Your clothes are wet.” 

He waits, desperate to see what she does next.  

“Would you... like help taking them off?” 

He goes stiff at her words. In every sense of the word. Thankfully she ignores his erections, using her finger to trace a pattern on his chest instead.  

He’s clenching his jaw so tightly that it hurts. His hands dig into the armrests. He’s worried his claws will materialise and splinter the wood. He has to reply, he remembers, or he won’t get to see what happens next. 

“If you want.”  

She raises her brows. “I’m not asking what I want, I’m asking what you want.” 

By the fucking Ancestors. 

Unbidden, his hands go to her, trembling as he cradles her jaw. The other drifts into her hair. He gets even harder when she relaxes into his touch, turning pliant under his grip. He tries not to sound so choked, so raspy, but he can’t hide his desperation when he replies. “I want to kiss you.” 

She lifts her chin in silent permission, eyelids drooping and jaw going slack. But it’s not enough for Slate. He presses his forehead against hers. “Please, I need to hear you ask.” 

He’s breathless when she shifts, bringing her leg around so that she’s straddling him. He can feel much more of her now. Seated like this, it’d be impossible for Adalyn to miss the bulge in his pants. Shame darkens his cheeks.  

Then she grinds her hips against his.  

The movement is so minute, he’s not sure if he imagined it.  

Her hands tighten around his neck. She brings her lips to his ear. Speaks so clearly, there’d be no mistaking her words. “Kiss me, Slate.” 

Every doubt, hang-up, and hesitation empties from his mind. His shame slips away and it’s almost blissful the way he’s able to turn, touching his lips to hers without overanalysing his actions. 

He realises he’s holding his breath. Pulls back to let it out in a whoosh, before leaning in and kissing her again. He’s too occupied with her touch to fret about the gall of his actions, and he’s moves instinctively, trailing soft kisses along her jaw and neck. He wants to commit every sound she makes to memory; every hitch of her breath, every pant and subdued gasp. He wants to worship every inch of skin he can reach; enjoy every shiver and sound he can wring from her. 

Adalyn is the next to pause for air. Slate doesn’t let up though – having been given permission to kiss his wife, he intends to make the most of the experience. He lavishes kisses down her throat, across her shoulder, savouring her warmth. He lets his teeth scrape against her skin and nearly trembles with excitement when she flinches, before tilting her head back to give him better access. 

“What else do you want?” She murmurs. 

“You.” 

She huffs a laugh. “I’m tired of guessing. Elaborate.” 

He makes himself pull away. Feasts his eyes on her. Her lipstick has smeared. The colour might drive him insane if he looks any longer. 

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, trying to organise his thoughts. He doesn’t get the chance. Adalyn picks up where he’d left off, leaning in to suck a line of kisses down his throat. He lets out a shaky breath and his grip on her tightens. 

Adalyn pauses. “Is this still okay?” 

“Yes. Fuck, yes. Please, don’t stop.” 

Emboldened by his plea, Adalyn grinds against him – there's no way he’s imagining it this time - her kisses becoming fiercer, their embrace more passionate. She nearly growls when her access is blocked by his collar. “I want to see more of you.” 

--- NSFW Content Ahead ---

Slate doesn’t check himself, removing his shirt faster than he’d done before. Pieces finally click in his brain, and the next step of the evening presents itself to him. He stands, hands going under Adalyn’s ass, and carrying her to the bed. She isn’t fazed by the relocation, doesn’t even stop rubbing against him. She just wraps her legs around his waist before dragging his lips to hers again.  

He kicks off his boots on the way there. Starts unlacing his pants. They make it to the bed and he sits, letting Adalyn straddle him and push him against the mattress.  

“Much better,” she says before trailing her lips down his chest. She takes her time, and Slate practically melts at the attention. Wonders if Adalyn had been as eager to get her hands on him as he’d been her. Probably, he notes as she kisses and sucks nearly every inch of him. She’s exploratory in her path. Her cheek grazes his ribs when she kisses the indent of his scar. She runs her hand along his side, over the ridges and valleys of his muscles. When she turns her attention to one of his nipples he jolts. 

He’s so focused on her mouth that he nearly misses her hand creeping down past his waistband. He lets out a shuddering breath when she rubs against his erections. His thoughts fizzle out when she fists her hand around one of his cocks and pumps it.  

“Is this alright?” She murmurs against him. 

He drags his pants down in answer, giving her better access. She squeezes and Slate can’t help but moan. It takes everything he has to not buck into her hand. 

Adalyn doesn’t bother restraining herself, grinding against Slate’s thigh. When she stops mouthing at his chest he grasps her by the hair again, prompting her upwards to his face. She doesn’t need further instruction, and goes back to kissing him, mindless and messy.   

Slate is close to coming. All she’s done is rub his cock and sit on his lap, and he’s nearly finished. He’s not sure if he should be embarrassed or elated. Is still caught up in surprise at the turn the night had taken. 

Adalyn pulls back to catch her breath. She looks almost smug, watching him writhe and twitch under her touch. She brushes his hair back before placing her free hand on his cheek. “You look good like this.” 

It takes a monumental effort to pull her into focus. He’s so hazy with need and so close to coming that tears prick his eyes. Adalyn is a blur of colour. The smear of her makeup, the marks blossoming on her throat, the flush in her cheeks – it's intoxicating. Another sound escapes him. 

Her face softens at the noise. “You okay?” 

“Adalyn...” He’s breathless. It’s an effort to speak. “If you keep- I want- I'm-” 

“Use your words, dearest,” she leans down in a slow, deliberate movement. Presses her lips to the skin beneath his jaw. Then sucks.  

He can’t use his words. Instead, he sees white as pleasure shoots through him, intense and unrelenting. His hips leave the bed. His breath catches in his throat. His eyes flutter closed. He doesn’t notice Adalyn’s praise as he comes – quite possibly harder than he’d ever done in his life. 

Awareness drifts back to him as he comes down from his high. It doesn’t take long for him to reorient himself, but when he does the room is spinning. His brain feels like mush. Adalyn is still straddling his thigh, her hand splayed against his chest for balance. He wonders if she can feel how hard his heart is beating. She still grips one of his cocks, looking at the mess he’d made with an unreadable expression.  

His tongue feels like lead, and he tries to string the right words together. “I’m sorry, I...” 

He cuts off when she gives his spent cock an experimental squeeze. His hips jerk and he wheezes.  

She huffs and smiles, watching him as she raises her hand to her mouth and licks her fingers clean. 

His untouched cock throbs. What few thoughts had formed in his head quickly disperse. 

“Why are you sorry? It’s not like I did this on accident,” she chides. 

Fuck, he wants more. He needs it. But Adalyn is still dressed. Still composed, looking down at him with a bright-eyed expression he’s entirely unfamiliar with. Five centuries worth of matriarchal and societal conditioning are the final tethers keeping him from responding. From grabbing Adalyn ravaging her. Playing out every dirty little thought he’s had, every fantasy, every impulse.  

He has to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s wanted before he can act. That he’s wanted.  

“Do you-” he starts, looking up with searching eyes, “Do you feel like this too?” 

She relaxes on top of him. Her lips twist into a wry smile. “Well, I didn’t come.” 

Need unfurls inside of him, sudden and desperate. To see Adalyn come undone the way he had. To make her gasp and moan and beg for him. To make her feel the way he constantly does around her; needy, depraved, dying for her to take the initiative.  

Before he knows it, he’s swapping places with her. Kissing down the length of her body. Slipping off the bed to kneel on the floor. Murmured pleas stream from him, too fast for him to process each one, “-let me help, let me make it better-” he grips her by the knees and pulls her towards him. “Please, fucking please, I want you so badly, I need to taste you, need to touch-” He parts her thighs. Wetness strings between them. She’s not wearing underwear. The observation knocks the breath from him. 

He kisses her inner thigh. His unspent cock aches, painfully stiff. He grinds against the end of the bed, yearning for friction. “Ask me to touch you. Give me permission. Fuck, Adalyn, tell me what I need to do to make you want me.” 

A hand closes around one of his horns, tugging. His whole scalp lights with pleasure at the sensation, and he shivers, staring up at Adalyn. Having her exert control over him like this is intoxicating. 

Despite her actions, she doesn’t look like she’s in control. Her hair is mussed, her face pink, and she bites down on her lip viciously. Still, she tightens her grip on him. 

“I already want you. I’ve wanted you for weeks. So stop teasing and just-” she cuts off. She lets out a groan, “Gods, are you really going to make me say it?” She pulls her dress up and stares pleadingly. “Use your mouth.” 

Her words are the final fraying on his restraint. Lust rolls in and he pulls her to the edge of the bed. Too eager to temper his actions, he thrusts his face between her folds, tonguing up and down and before he finds her clit and sucks. 

He should have stroked her first. Fondled her breasts or used his fingers. But there’s no room in him for sympathy and he continues his rough treatment, enthralled by the way she squirms beneath him. Her legs shake and jerk, and a stream of high-pitched noises escape her throat. He holds her steadfast, draping her knees over his shoulders and nuzzling closer. 

“-slower, please-” he hears despite the clenching of her thighs around his ears. 

Part of him flickers with remorse. He’d attacked her without any preamble or warmup, lapping up her juices like a wyvern starved. The rest of him is unmoved. Thrilled to hear Adalyn beg. Delighted at being told what to do. And merciless. Having waited long enough for Adalyn to give him an order, he intends to follow this one to the letter, even if she grows to regret the request.  

“You want me to slow down?” He hums as his imagination runs free. She’d been teasing him all day. Two could play that game. 

She whimpers and nods her assent.  

He moves back, giving her some space and lathering kisses on her thighs once more. Despite his sadistic intent, he nearly loses himself worshiping her legs. He sucks and nips at the soft flesh of her inner thighs, watching marks bloom and darken with unshakable focus.  

She goes limp with the treatment. Her moans drop in pitch, her breathing evens out. They both relax, drawn into a new rhythm; less manic, less starved. Softer; more intimate. Her spasms grow further apart, and she seems content to lie there under him. Until she’s not.  

There’s a gentle tug on his horn, and he blinks up at her. She looks wrecked. Her eyes are watery, and her makeup is smudged. He wonders if he’s taking things too far. 

“Please, Slate. Not there.” 

He holds fast to his plan, trusting Adalyn to tell him to stop if it gets too much. He kisses her other thigh. “Here then?” 

She shakes her head. 

He holds back a smirk. Kisses her knee. “Here?” 

Adalyn lets out a whine. Bucks her hips. “Stop teasing.” 

“You told me to slow down.” He nips at her skin before dragging his nose upwards, perfectly content to draw things out. “Unless you want me to go fast again?” 

She doesn’t say anything. Drops her head and lets out a frustrated whine. 

“Tell me where, Adalyn.” He doesn’t hide his smile this time. 

“You know where.” She sounds petulant.  

Warmth spreads through him, but he continues to play dumb, and shrugs. Echoes her earlier words. “Elaborate. I’m tired of guessing.” He scrapes her with his teeth again. “Plus, I like hearing you tell me what to do.” 

Tears drip from her eyes. Slate pulls back, startled. He’s about to apologise, certain he’s pushed too far when she grabs him by both horns. Guides his face to her pussy. 

“Here.” 

His mind goes blank at the action, his thoughts skittering away. Until he’s only aware of her grip and the delectable warmth before him. He takes his time with kitten licks and soft kisses. Teasing forgotten, he treats her with awe, with gentleness. His wife spreading her legs for him is such a privilege, he can’t help but savour every taste.   

Despite his abandoned plan, Adalyn still feels Slate’s exploratory pace. He winds her up until she’s groaning and bucking once more. Impatient, she uses her grip on Slate’s horns to grind against his face.  

Slate drops further at the sensation. With his eyes shut tight and Adalyn’s thighs pressed hard around his head, it’s too easy for him to lose himself. He works without thought, drawn into her taste, her sounds. Her grip on him sends goosebumps down his neck and he hums, happy to relish the sensation, letting Adalyn pull him wherever she likes. 

Trancelike, he moves with increasing fervour, flicking his tongue against her clit before moving down to tease her entrance. Over and over until he’s sucking hard at her pearl just to enjoy the way she shudders against him. He doesn’t notice the growing tension in her limbs, or the change in her volume. Doesn’t notice the signs of the orgasm creeping up on her until she’s gripping his horns with every ounce of her strength and gasping out his name.  

It draws him out of his daze. Rekindles his lust. Slate decides then and there that he needs to hear Adalyn say it again. That he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her like this – moaning and incoherent. Appetite barely whetted, he keeps working, sucking harder on her clit and teasing her entrance with a finger. She’s so slick, slipping inside is effortless. She whines and tries to jerk back, but Slate is resolute, intent on pushing Adalyn as far as she can go. He adds another finger. 

She’s a mess beneath him. Still shaking, riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Unable to come down with the way Slate keeps going. She wants to relax, wants to relish the intrusion, but is too heightened to do so. She’s barely aware of the sounds leaving her, the whimpers and groans.  

Every time she untenses, Slate moves his fingers, prompting her to clamp down. Again and again, until she stops trying to pull from his grasp. Starts opening for his touches again. Though she can’t yet stop her cries or hold still. Tears brim her eyes. It’s almost as if she doesn’t know what she wants. 

His prior plan to tease Adalyn until she begged comes back to him. He could keep going, turning her into an oversensitive mess. But looking at her, he doesn’t think he has the restraint. Watching her twitch and loll her head just reminds him of how much he wants to experience her pleasure for himself. To sink inside of her and feel her tremors directly around his cock. 

Slate rests his cheek against her thigh and pauses to catch his breath. He uses the moment to check in. “How you doing, Ad?” 

She tries pressing her legs together, succeeding only in pulling Slate’s face closer. A spent little noise escapes her.  

He can’t help but smile. “Sensitive?” 

She nods. 

He runs his free hand up the outside of her thigh, soothing. “Do you want me to stop?” 

She covers her face. Flinches when Slate curls his fingers inside of her. But doesn’t pull back.  

“I asked you a question.” He takes mercy and eases up. Lets her think unimpeded. Even if he wants to keep distracting her. 

A moment passes and she shakes her head. Her voice is barely a whisper, but Slate still hears her reply.  

“More.” 

He plants a soft kiss onto her thigh. He’s desperate for the next step, still achingly stiff and untouched. But if she wants more, who is he to refuse?  

He kisses his way back to her core, spreading her legs and ready to taste her again when he’s accosted by the swat of her hand. 

“Slate,” she cries and indecency of the sound makes his mouth water. “Please,” she wraps her hand around his horn once more and tugs. “I need the rest of you.” 

He doesn’t have the discipline to hold back. To feel anything but relief at her words. It’s all he can do to crawl up the bed, breathless, until he hovers over her face, caging her in with his forearms. He still needs to see her ask. 

“Say that again.” 

Her nose crinkles and she balls her fists against his chest. Her voice is small. “I need you...” 

Her embarrassment endears him. Arouses him. He can’t help but lower himself, settling between her legs. He strokes her thighs. Creeps his fingers closer to her dripping folds. She pants at the touch, spreading her legs eagerly. The sight threatens to unravel him, but he can still draw this out. Just a bit more. 

“You’re going to have to be specific, sweetheart.” 

Her hazy eyes clear long enough for her to blink up at him, pleading through dampened lashes. “I need you to fuck me.” 

Ancestors. When she looks at him like that, when she says something so crass – he's not going to be able to hold out much longer. His legs tremble as he rubs his cock against her folds. Carefully. Tauntingly.  

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” 

She whimpers. Hits his chest. “I said, fuck me.” 

“Ask nicely?” She could give him hell for it later. Right now, nothing beats the glee he feels hearing Adalyn beg. 

“Please,” she whines and tears escape down her cheeks. She wraps her legs around his waist and grinds against him. “Please stop teasing, please just fuck me, please Slate, please.” 

He can’t hold back anymore. Not when she’s lined up so perfectly or begging so prettily. He can’t stop himself from leaning down to brush his lips against her cheek. He tastes her tears before moving his lips to hers, gently at first. Heat grows inside him until he’s kissing her with abandon, fervid and hungry. When he pulls back he’s breathless, but no less eager. 

“I’d be delighted.” 

The last of his patience fleeing him, Slate thrusts inside.  

Her legs wrap tighter around him. They’re both silent but for their heavy breathing. The pause probably only lasts a moment, but it stretches on for Slate, enthralled by Adalyn panting in his ear, the tremble in her muscles, the absolute euphoria of having one of his cocks inside her.  

She moves first, grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling. She lifts her hips to ease the dress up, the motion sending pleasure curling in his gut. Still, he takes Adalyn by the wrist. 

“Leave it on.” 

Adalyn leans back to look into his eyes again, even as her cheeks grow redder. There’s a question in the air, and as he stares at Adalyn, some of the mania, some of the subservience leaves her. She looks pleased. “You want me to leave it on?” 

He nods, suddenly abashed by the request. By the ease at which Adalyn can take control of the situation.  

Her smile widens and she pulls him down into a heated kiss. “Don’t rip it. I like seeing what it does to you.” 

He groans against her neck, heart pounding when Adalyn rolls her hips against him. “You’re a fiend, Adalyn.” He starts fucking her, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into her shoulder while he does. 

She meets his thrusts, thighs trembling with the effort. She takes his hands, coaxing him to squeeze her ass, to touch her waist. “Your fiend.” 

His hemi throbs at the words and he lets out a near growl. The curve of her hips, the warmth of her skin. She’s so soft beneath him. “Yeah?” 

“Mmhm.” 

Slate sits back, pulling Adalyn onto his lap as he goes. She doesn’t need to move much, legs already locked around him. Splayed open above him, with her dress ruffled and her hair loose, Slate doesn’t know where to look. He can’t see a single part of her he doesn’t desire.  

She takes his hands again. Glides them up her stomach, pushing the fabric up as she goes, until her breasts are peaking out. He doesn’t need further instruction, and begins to fondle her, awed. He leans in to suck and nip at her flesh. She jerks in his lap, arching and gasping at the attention, and Slate groans as she clenches around him.  

“All yours, Slate.” 

His hips jerk. “Fuck.” He starts bouncing Adalyn on his lap, eliciting a stream of her gasps. She closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. He reaches between them to press against her clit, delighting in the way she starts to squirm. “If you keep talking like that I’ll end up fucking you all night.” 

She laughs, but cuts off in a moan. It takes her a moment to reply. “Why wouldn’t I want my husband to fuck me all night? I happen to like him a lot.”  

Her teasing, sultry tone is undermined by her breathlessness, but it still does things to him. He stops palming her breast and grabs her by the hips. Overrides her easy pace on top of him in favour of a rougher fucking. Bucks up against her momentum and weight, driving himself deeper with each thrust, until he’s nearly slamming her down onto his cock. 

There’s still a part of him wondering if he’s taking it too far. Worried he might hurt Adalyn. The bed shakes beneath them, and the sound of their fucking echoes in the stone room. But Adalyn seems to enjoy the treatment. Her mouth is agape, her back arches, her nails scrabble to find purchase on his back. 

There’s no more room for rational thought, watching her like this – feeling her like this. The only thought he’s capable of having is the realisation that he needs more. He fucks her harder, faster, chasing that need for more. More of Adalyn. More of her sounds. More of that hot, wet texture gripping him so tightly. Until she’s convulsing on top of him, clasping a hand over her mouth, strained gasps escaping her. 

He grabs her wrist, unthinking. “I want to hear you.”  

Slate doesn’t give her a chance to respond. Keeps bucking, even as she trembles, limbs wracked with tension. Her moans peak, then stop entirely for a moment as she flexes. The spasms around his cock, the additional slick – feeling her come on top of him is his own undoing.  

The last of his thoughts turn to static. Every muscle in his core tightens. Then he’s slack jawed, head thrown back as he comes inside of Adalyn, hips faltering and coming to a stop once she’s taken every drop. 

“Fuck,” he says. His muscles turn to jelly. When Adalyn stops twitching around him she too goes slack, collapsing against his chest.  

“Yeah,” she agrees.  

--- NSFW Content Ends ---

He closes his eyes against the spinning of the room. Catches his breath. His muscles burn with a pleasant exertion. Strength is already starting to return to his body. The only downside to his quick recovery are the thoughts spooling back into his head; invasive and demeaning. 

Did he really just fuck Adalyn? 

He opens his eyes, and blinks down at her, bewildered. Hair sticks to her nape. Her heart is still pounding, but she’s boneless, the slight drag of her fingers against his arm the only indication of her consciousness.  

Yes. That had just happened. She’d climbed into his lap and asked him what he wanted. And then he’d carried her to the bed. 

She’d literally seduced him. 

Right? 

He curses his doubt. He should be ecstatic. Basking in afterglow. Giddy at Adalyn’s proximity. Not analysing whether or not his wife had actually wanted to have sex with him.  

He glares at the ceiling. He knows he’s being ridiculous. He knows it, he knows it, he knows it. It’s something he’ll have to unlearn. To talk to Adalyn about. Because if she does want him the same way he wants her, and he’s being cautiously obtuse – he winces at the thought. 

“Did you say you’ve wanted me for weeks?” It’s honestly a miracle he remembers the words. The rest of their encounter had been intense enough that all the foreplay, the banter, had burnt into afterthoughts.  

She stirs, opening her eyes to look up at him. Then smiles, her cheeks flushing before she hides her face against his chest. Her words are muffled. “It sounds familiar.” 

“Did you mean it?”  

He feels her swallow. She shifts so that she’s no longer straddling him, instead curling up against his side. “Yes.” 

He stares. Tries to reply, but words just catch in his throat. 

She wants him? (Wanted him. Still wants him?) Does she mean physically? Romantically? He has to know. Has to ask. If only he could formulate a proper sentence.  

Seconds stretch into minutes. Worried he’ll lose his chance, his nerve, he blurts: “Do you like me?” 

She pauses in stroking his collarbone. Looks up at him again, another wry smile at her lips. “You’re asking now?” 

He flushes. “Well, I know you wanted to- that you wanted me. But I mean... Do you want to court me?” 

The smile drops as she presses her lips together. Her face goes red as she stares up at him. She probably doesn’t realise Slate can see so much detail in the dark. 

Finally, she lowers her stare. Her voice is small. “I’ve been trying to court you for weeks.” 

He’s shocked into silence. Barely manages a weak, “What?” 

“I thought bringing you lunch every day and trying to spend so much time with you might clue you in.” 

His eyes widen further. 

“But humans do things differently. We’re a lot more reserved with physical touch and professions of emotion until we’re sure there’s returned feelings. And it’s usually done in equal parts by both men and women. I felt bad approaching you because I didn’t know how you felt about it.” 

He splutters. A small part of him starts spiralling. “You-” 

“I think I would have driven myself insane if Rin hadn’t sent me a book last week. It’s a treatise on wyvern physiology, though there was some etiquette stuff in there too. But even trying some of the stuff it mentioned, I was worried I might go too far.” 

He’s still incredulous. “You like me. Romantically?” 

She hides her face in the pillow. There’s a muffled noise of affirmation. It’s cute. 

It doesn’t tamper his bewilderment. “Why?” 

She turns her face, enough to be audible. “Well, you’re handsome. And interesting. And kind. And easy to be around. And every now and then you do something that’s really attractive. Liking you was mostly... just a crush. That snowballed into something bigger.” 

Amusement breaches his shock, and he relaxes. “You think I’m attractive?” 

Her face turns redder. “Yes. When you... lift things. Or when your clothes get wet.” 

He can’t help but laugh. Wraps his arm around her shoulders and draws her close again.  

“Do you...” she hesitates. Looks nearly as bothered as he’s felt these past few days. 

He scans her face, wondering what could possibly be wrong. Finally, it hits him. 

“Oh!” 

She deflates at his exclamation. He nearly panics at the posture. Rushes to reply. 

“Adalyn, I adore you.” 

Her brow crinkles. “But I’m... I’m just...” 

He takes her by the jaw. Runs his thumb over her cheek. “You’re thoughtful. You take me seriously. You listen to me. You respect me.” 

She calms enough to frown. “That’s a low bar.” 

Slate presses his forehead to hers. “You make me feel welcome. It’s... you have no idea how much I appreciate you.” 

She untenses when he leans in and touches his lips to her own. She melts into the kiss and his mind goes delightfully fuzzy. It’s sweet, and soft, and he loses track of time. His head spins when they pause. Close enough to share breath.  

He flushes as he contemplates his next words. “Can I... Can you tell me more about how humans make advances? Maybe not right now, but...” 

She smiles, and it’s sweet enough to wind him. “Of course.” 

He stares for a moment. Touches his forehead to hers again, inhaling deeply. Sweat and time have dulled her perfume, but it still lingers in the back of his mind, ambrosial and rich. Euphoria trickles into him, steadily enough that he leans down to kiss her again. Slowly, with a gradual increase in hunger. Until his hand is curling in her hair again, and he’s nearly on top of Adalyn – the heat between them rekindled. 

She breaks away, her eyes crinkling as she grins. “Are you still hard?” 

His lips twitch. “That’s the other one.” 

“Didn’t I get that one off before...?” 

He huffs. “I told you what’d happen if you kept running your mouth.” 

She laughs before stretching up to kiss him again. The intensity returns, Adalyn definitely encouraging it with the way she clings to him, her hands coasting along his back, her breasts pressing against his chest. Until she pulls away, and shuffles back. 

Slate doesn’t have time to be disappointed, because Adalyn rolls onto her stomach and lifts her ass. She gives an enticing wiggle, rubbing against him. “I could take more. But you’re changing the sheets afterwards. 

Something in his chest begins to soar. He could probably tear up from happiness, from affection. Especially if he thinks too long about her smile, or how easily she’s able to proposition him.  

He sets aside the feelings for later.  

Then pins Adalyn to the mattress, ready to start again.  

Next

[creamsickle-writes]

Usopp x Reader: Day 17

Tags: nsfw, first times, intercrural sex, oral sex, and penetrative sex

You and Usopp had been together for a while.

It started out wholesome and innocent enough, you two holding hands and sharing quick kisses every now and then. But, as your relationship progressed, things started getting more heated. Quick pecks turned into intense makeout sessions, and your hands that once held the other’s started traversing new territory. 

During one of these sensual moments, Usopp had placed you on his workshop bench. He began kissing down your neck, and you spread your legs, unable to stop yourself from grinding against his hardening cock. He groans against your skin and rocks his hips into you in return. 

“Usopp…” You sigh out, “I think- I think I’m ready to…”

He pulls away from your neck and looks you in the eyes, expecting the remainder of your sentence. 

“I want... I want to go farther with you.”

His face flushes, and he stutters, “W-What do you mean? Like, how far?”

You bite your lip and hop off the workbench. You quickly push him up against the wall, trapping him with your arms. He gulps as he looks down at you, a bead of sweat running down his face. You hook your fingers under the straps of his suspenders, allowing them to drop at his sides.

“Like, this far…” You sink to your knees before him, and he turns bright red. You look at him, quietly asking for permission, as you slowly pull his pants down. He gives no indication to stop, so you pull his pants to his ankles along with his underwear. You gasp at the sight of his cock; it stands straight up in the air, bobbing steadily as precum leaks from the tip. You press a kiss to it, and he whimpers, balling his fists by his sides.

You press another kiss to the head before licking at it. Usopp groans above you and throws his head against the wall, his dark curls bunching up behind him. Your hands place themselves on his toned thighs, and you press forward, taking him into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the head, collecting every ounce of precum on his tip. You happily hum at the taste; it’s foreign to you, but you certainly enjoy it.

Usopp’s hands hover over your head as if unsure what to do with his hands. You take his hand in yours and guide it toward the back of your head, silently pleading for him to take some initiative. He gets the hint and presses down slightly, causing you to take more of him in your mouth. You hum around him and begin bobbing your head back and forth, taking him to the halfway point. He doesn’t push you further; he just gently guides your head along his cock. You look up at him through your lashes, and you hear his breath hitch, his pupils blown wide.  

Your spit coats his cock as you move your head along his shaft. With gentle hands, you reach forward, taking his balls in hand and massaging them. He bites his plush lips at that, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes.

“W-Wait-” He stops you, and you pull off him, tilting your head.

He continues to speak, “I… I want to try something else. If that’s alright…”

Usopp guides you to the workshop table yet again; This time, he instructs you to lie down, and you do so, placing your back on the sturdy wood of his work desk. He timidly reaches for your waistband and looks into your eyes, silently asking for permission. You nod, and he slides your skirt and panties down in one go, exposing your pussy to the air. 

You gasp as he places his leaking cock atop your swollen lips, “Is this okay?”

You nod eagerly, and he begins rocking his hips back and forth, his shaft’s underside stimulating your clit. Usopp takes your legs and brings them together, your thighs encapsulating his cock. He ruts forward, groaning as your thighs offer friction. 

You watch him closely, his dark brows furrowing as he thrusts against you. His mouth hangs open, and he moves his hips even faster, desperately trying to gain more friction. You bite your lip as his shaft runs against your slit; it’s irritating how close yet how far he feels from stimulating your clit with all the force he can offer.

And just as you think that, you gasp.

“Sorry!”

Usopp’s frantic hips had miscalculated, and his head had pushed against your embarrassing wet hole, allowing his cock to enter. He was about halfway inside before he stopped himself. He’s about to slide out, but you grab his arm.

“Can we… do this?”

Usopp bites his lip as he looks down at you, “If you’re okay with it, then… I’d really like to.”

You nod, and he slowly slides himself the rest of the way. He hisses and lowers his head, his cock throbbing as your walls squeeze him. Your brows crease as he buries himself within you, his tip kissing your furthest walls. 

“Usopp…” you moan, clawing at the workbench table as he timidly rocks his hips. Your sounds cause his chest to swell with pride, and with that, he spreads your legs, your ankles against his shoulders. Your eyes rolled back as he gave a particularly harsh thrust, causing your body to jump. 

He repeatedly moans your name in response, his hips mashing against yours. You whine as you grind your hips against him, his pelvis stimulating your clit as you do so. His eyes focus on where you connect as he pulls himself out so that only the tip is inside you. You almost ask what he’s doing before he slams deep inside, his balls pressed flush against your ass as he slams home. Your eyes cross, and your toes curl as he hits that spot deep within you.

“Oh, Usopp,” You whimper, “It feels so good…”

He chuckles a bit, and you can tell your praise is boosting his confidence, “W-Well, I have been told that I am rather large-”

You internally roll your eyes, knowing damn well this man is a virgin.

But, you supposed you were used to his lies.

Even still, you pull him forward by his shoulders, folding yourself in half. You press your nose against his own and command, “Just fuck me already.”

Suddenly, he turns red, and his faux confidence is gone, “R-Right, yeah, of course.”

His hips pick up their pace, fucking you steadily. Your nails dig into his back as he fucks you in a mating press, your furthest walls assaulted by his large shaft. You feel as if your breath leaves your lungs with each thrust forward. You whine desperately, drool escaping the corners of your mouth as he thrusts in even faster.

Before you know it, he’s fucking you with incredible harshness, his cock hitting all the right places. 

It doesn’t take long before this incredible pressure builds up inside you, the pleasure only growing with each of Usopp’s rough thrusts. You throw your head back and drag your nails across his back before squealing, “I’m gonna cum!”

You feel Usopp’s cock throbbing and twitching inside you, his nails digging into your thighs as he nears his release. It only takes a few moments before you’re creaming all over him, your pussy practically trapping him.

“Shit,” He moans, “I-I gotta pull out-!”

You almost beg him not to, that he should just cum inside you, but before you can beg, he’s already pulling out, his cock shooting ropes of cum over your clit and stomach.

You instinctively reach for his cock and angle it, so he’s sliding back in again. Usopp groans above you, rocking his hips, “I-It’s sensitive-!”

“Come on,” you whine, “Just one more round?”

He licks his lips, “O-Okay, one more…”

[batrachised]

Oh, Anne Shirley, and her wonderful, uplifting, sweet, wholesome stories. The series begins with a little orphan girl who finds a home and a family, saving Matthew and Marilla just as much as they save her. Anne walks as if about to fly, wandering through life with her head the clouds but her heart in the right place, and even through all her scrapes, from the embarrassing to the wrong to the hilarious, she keeps her eye true to herself and retains her sense of wonder and imagination even as an adult.

So, how do we reconcile this with how the series ends?

You mean Rilla of Ingleside, batrachised? you ask, thinking of our more heartbroken and downtrodden Anne. But no. I'm referring here to The Blythes are Quoted. This is the book that actually contains the last glimpse we see of our beloved Anne Shirley. And, to be frank, it's dark. I read it the other day (although my friend gogandmagog warned me, she WARNED me) and had to sit with it.

Before I share the passages, some context: LMM intended TBAQ to be published, although it wasn't published in her lifetime. The foreword to the book notes the difference between the Piper poem referred to Rilla, and Walter's hopeful letter about making Canada safe for the poets of the future--and then, what we see in this book.

Here is the last chapter we get in Anne Shirley's story [warning: heartbreaking]:

So there we have it-- a poem where Walter imagines killing a boy (although I personally think we could read this as Walter actually killing someone, because how would Jem know?) and then Anne steadily saying she is thankful Walter didn't live to see what the world would become. At the end of TBAQ and the Anne series, WWII is raging. Rilla reflects on how, once again she's waiting for the horror to end, but this time with a son at the front. Even Jem, so bold in the first book (although he returns "no longer the laughing boy brother" who left), now has sons in WWII, now the one waiting at home for their safe return.

There's a lot to reflect on on this passage; how LMM clearly became disillusioned by WWII -shown in Anne's words, how the front impacted Walter's imagination and creative outputs, how this is the ending LMM chose for the characters (although perhaps she would have written more if she had lived longer, we can never know)--"The End" here is stark. "We forget because we must," the last words LMM wrote for Anne's story.

But, I think Jem is wrong (from a certain point of view). I had to mull over the contrast between what Jem says and what Walter writes (and also because, to be honest, my ability to interpret poetry is of equal capacity to a toenail's). Jem describes himself as made of tougher stuff than Walter, but what stands out to me here is that, from a certain perspective, Jem's thoughts are radically different than his brother's. Jem explicitly says they must forget; Walter explicitly says they must remember always. Even in the poem, assuming this isn't a publisher error, those words aren't italicized, emphasized amidst the rest.

Of course, Walter is discussing the pain of remembering; his message is that he'll never be able to forget, which parallels Jem's of having to forget. Both touch on the horror of WWI from different directions. To be clear, I think that was LMM's intent. But stepping beyond her intent, there's an underlying, unintended (?) message here of how forgetting risks repeating, something the characters are living through. Forgetting risks rendering the sacrifices made futile.

To my earlier question of how we reconcile this end: we don't, at least in my opinion (although I'd love to hear other's thoughts). I think the message here is all the more powerful because it's from our beloved Anne. It demonstrably condemns war, without any sugarcoating or even hope. A sharp contrast to the rest of the series, yes, but I think it's a fair one.

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 22

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 22/?? Word count: 1236 Cw: drug use, addiction, language]

—————

Barb sorted through Fizzarolli’s fan mail in her tiny office. Ostensibly, she was her friend’s bodyguard whenever he was in Greed; she was also acting as his assistant. Mammon didn't want anyone on his payroll wasting time. Technically, she worked for Fizz, which meant she could refuse the Sin. But doing administrative tasks when Fizz wasn’t surrounded by fans kept Mammon from grumbling at his brand face.

And he needed help with the mail. The Fizzies had launched in full two weeks before the fifth annual clown pageant. Fizzarolli had won that as well; his upgraded extendable limbs added to his already impressive act.

Barb had to give some credit to Mammon, he knew how to market people and products. Fizz’s second win in a row and his comeback story with the launch of Fizzy robots for every occasion, all of Hell knew the imp’s face. And they were willing to pay Mammon’s prices for merchandise.

All that exposure meant fans and fans meant all sorts of messages. Letters, forum messages, Sinstagram posts, fanart both wholesome and lewd. Mammon had a PR team for all the digital content, since that was public. The physical mail also went through the PR team before being sent to Fizz. There was still a massive amount needing replies, which Barb was helping with.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she muttered, sorting through the day's pile. There wasn’t anything dangerous in the envelopes, Mammon’s people saw to that. But the amount of requests for feet pics, pictures of Fizz without his prosthetics, offers for ‘a good time’ and straight up pornographic fanart was ridiculous. Barb felt like her eyes needed bleach some days, but she didn’t want her friend dealing with this nonsense alone. “I keep telling the assholes to not send the skeevy shit but do they listen? Noooooo, it’s ‘not their job to moderate content.’ Bullshit, you’re a PR team, it is your fucking job.”

The rejected pile steadily rose and the accepted pile gradually had a few letters added. Then she saw a name that made her want to scream. More than fan mail sorting usually did.

Blitzø.

Her fucking traitor twin. The scumbag who left- who abandoned his family and friends to be a royal pet. And now he was sending Fizzarolli fan mail?!

“What the fuck are you pulling Blitzo?” she hissed at the envelope in her claws. Nothing from him for years and once Fizz is successful and famous he tries to contact them? Not even ‘them,’ the envelope was addressed to Fizz.

Barb could tell from the feel of the envelope there were several pages in the letter. She wasn’t going to read it and she sure as shit wasn’t going to send it Fizz’s way. Most of the rejected mail was just shredded. She scrawled ‘RETURN TO SENDER’ in bold red marker. Hopefully the asshat would get the hint.

Later that day, as she and Fizz were finishing up the handful of responses to fans (mostly to kids) she debated on whether to tell him about the letter. Barb decided she’d better, in case the traitor tried to get in touch another way.

“You got another letter that went into the reject pile.” Fizz quirked an eyebrow. She usually didn’t mention the mail she filtered out unless it was important or particularly hilarious. “It was from Blitzo.”

Fizz gripped the pen he was using. His mechanical fingers twitched and the plastic tube snapped in half, creating a spray of ink. Ichor drained from his face, then his cheeks flushed again in anger. “The fuck does that asshole want?”

Barb shrugged. “Dunno. Didn’t read it, I just sent it back. Figured it can’t be that important, coming from a traitorous dickhead only when you’re famous.” He looked at her, anger at Blitzo warring with gratitude for her in his expression. “If he sends any more, I’ll send ‘em right back. Should probably tell the PR guys he might contact you another way though.”

He dumped the ruined gel pen in the trash bin and grabbed a tissue to clean his hand. “Fuck, Ozzie’s gonna be pissed if this gets in the joints. Thanks for looking out for me Barb.”

“Course Fizz. We look out for each other, right?” She decided to ignore his mention of Asmodeus. He’d been spending more time with the Sin of Lust, even now that the Fizzy robot development was done for the time being. What the fuck is it with royal demons and imp guys? she thought to herself.

Fizzarolli gave her a shaky smile and tossed the ink covered tissue into the trash. “Well I’m not up for answering more mail. Wanna call it a day and grab something terrible for us?”

Barb stood up and stretched, popping vertebrae down her spine and tail. “Thought you had a dinner meeting with Asmodeus.” She knew he did, she had to know his schedule. If he was going to be with a Deadly Sin, he really didn’t need her acting as bodyguard.

“Shit, I almost forgot. It’s not business though, if you wanna join u-“

“I’ll pass. Don’t wanna be a third wheel and all that shit.” She’d tagged along with Fizz and Ozzie once before and swore never again. Not unless she had her own date. No matter how much the two men denied it, she could see where things were headed.

Fizz stammered, “We-we’re not an item Barb! I keep telling you, it’s just business and the occasional fuck.”

“So if tonight isn’t business it’s the ‘occasional’ fuck.” She made air quotes as she walked out of the room with him. “Still don’t wanna be around for that Fizz. Have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fizz waved as she headed out the building; he had to text Ozzie to send a car up to Greed and wait for his ride.

Getting something terrible to eat sounded amazing though, so she got cheap Chinese food on the way home. The staff knew her usual order and she soon had a takeout bag in one hand and an extra egg roll to snack on as she walked.

Her studio apartment, decorated haphazardly in rock music paraphernalia, was unsurprisingly empty. She managed to keep most of her emotions at bay as she watched a hellanovella and devoured her fried rice. But there was an end to the episode and comfort food.

Anger and confusion and loneliness bubbled up. She chucked an empty takeout box at the wall and gripped the sides of her head. “Goddammit Blitzo! You’re not even here and you’re fucking up my life.” Just the reminder that he existed sent her spiraling into the worst memories.

Her brother abandoning them. Her mom covering bruises. Her dad’s rising anger towards her and Fizz. Straining to match Fizz as a partner. Fighting creeps and stalkers. The fire. Finding Fizz. Finding…her mom.

“FUCK!” she yelled, throwing a wooden chopstick after the box. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about anything. Barb had promised herself she wouldn’t use again; she’d been clean the past four months. But Barb four months ago hadn’t expected Blitzo to resurface. So today’s Barb unblocked her dealer’s number to see if she could hook her up fast.

As it turned out, her dealer could. And she got a second ‘something terrible’ that let her not think about anything until the high wore off.

—————

<<First <Prev Next>

[powerful-niya]

— (υиωιи∂.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

Link to Oneshot below ↴

•Wattpad• •AO3•

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡Every exceptional mother deserves to unwind with a candlelit bath, indulge in lavish amenities, and possibly even experience a huge dose of intimacy once in a while.

Hinata Uzumaki was unquestionably receiving everything she had ever wished for and more.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Alcohol Beverages • Attempted Quiet Sex • Blank Period • BlowJob • Body Worship • Candles • Candlenights • Canon • Cock Worship • Couple Goals • Dirty Talk • Domesticity • Explicit • Fellatio • Fingering • Finger Play • Fluff • Fondling • Foreplay • Groping • Hand Job • Husband & Wife • Intimacy • Kissing • Mature • Multiple Orgasms • Mother Appreciation • NSFW • Oral Sex • Parents • Passionate Sex • Praise Kink • Relaxation • Romance • Shower/Tub Sex • Stripping • Strip Tease • Therapeutic • Tranquility • Tooth-Rotting Fluff • Unprotected Sex • Vaginal Sex • Wine • Wholesome •

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚15k.

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚8k.

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Hinata took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air around her to purify her body by entering through her nostrils. For a little period, she felt relief and comfort as her lungs expanded.

She leaned back against the bath cushion on the rim of the bathtub she was now occupying and sighed pleasantly, exhaling through the crevices of her lips.

She was completely submerged in pleasing warm water, with big fluffy bubbles present all around her, completely encasing her entire being.

The bubbles stuck to every part of her pale skin, clinging to her as she lay stretched out fully within her bathtub in the comfort of her own home.

She had plenty of room to move within her bathtub, which was round and decently sized. It resembled a jacuzzi tub in appearance and was constructed of white, flawless ceramic.

The white bathtub was positioned directly upon the bathroom floor, and there was a flat ceramic surface circling it that could be used to place candles, bath essentials, and towels, or even used as a resting spot for one's arms.

Hinata used the opportunity of the evening to set aside the occasion for some relaxing alone time to take a bath, a pastime she enjoyed engaging in occasionally to refresh herself.

There was no other soul present. There were no sudden or abrupt sounds made. The midnight blue-haired woman had no responsibilities, and she didn't have to worry about the passage of time either.

No.

All of her worries were washed away, and she spent her time in the bath simply relaxing, allowing her body to soak and her mind to think about whatever it pleased.

The lights in the serene room she occupied were dim, allowing a brownish hue to saturate the entire space.

The only source of light in the bathroom was given by fire-lit candles, vanilla-scented candles that were carefully placed about the room. Just enough to see.

Each of the candle's ablaze fires danced and flared back and forth, casting lively shadows around the walls as it did so.

The atmosphere around Hinata as she steadily collected her breathing undoubtedly placed her further in a state of tranquility, easing her very soul.

The crystal blue water in the bath was warm against Hinata's skin, not too hot, not too cold, but just right.

Only her head and neck were above the bath water as it rose up her body, covering her limbs and reaching as high as her well-endowed chest.

Her normally long midnight-blue hair was pulled up into a high bun with a hair tie to prevent it from getting wet during her indulgent bath and to avoid causing her any distractions.

Undressed and alone, Hinata was enjoying yet another wonderful night reclining in a bubbly, warm tub. She chose to close her eyes and take slow, deep breaths in order to appreciate every last second of the pleasure of the moment.

Her body felt at ease, more at ease than she had ever felt. Her heartbeat was regular, her breathing was reserved, her limbs were light, and her skin was smooth to the touch, diffused by a lavender floral scent from the bath oils that had been pervaded in the water.

"Ahh." She moaned into the air, her delicate voice emerging to voice out her satisfaction.

All of it felt like a dream.

The situation, however, improved even further when she abruptly heard a soft knock on the bathroom door, which caused her to open her eyes and direct her attention toward the direction the noise originated from.

Her hands gripped the edges of the bathtub on each side of her, her lavender eyes lidded from the high levels of relaxation her entire body was experiencing.

The young woman smiled, knowing right away who was concealed behind the bathroom door.

"Yes? Naruto-kun, is that you?" Hinata called out to her husband, her soft voice echoing across the dimmed room of tranquility to slip outside of the main door from afar.

But the emergence of her voice caused the newcomer to chuckle softly, just on the other side of the closed door.

"Yep! The one and only."

Naruto responded amusingly, only his husky voice heard from Hinata's end.

"I just wanted to let you know, Hinata-chan, that I finally managed to get the kids to sleep, Boruto, and Hima."

Hinata's smile broadened in response to the good news her husband had just shared with her, news that warmed her chest and made her heart flutter.

Gently, she rocked her legs about within the pool of soapy water surrounding her.

Splashes were created as a result.

"Oh, that's fantastic news, Naruto-kun.

I'm so proud of you." Hinata responded, expressing her joy and appreciation, "Thank you so much for putting the kids to bed on my behalf tonight. I appreciate that more than you know."

Immediately after her words of gratitude were spoken, Hinata heard Naruto chuckle once more from behind the door, just before his soothing voice emerged again.

"Oh no, Hinata hime, you don't have to thank me. You need time to unwind, babe, you work so hard, after all. Therefore, I would be pleased to help you with the kids in any way I can. But um.."

There was a sudden pause, a momentary silence that caught Hinata's attention.

The midnight blue-haired woman perked up, "Yes? What is it, Naruto-kun?" Hinata tilted her head, "Do you need something?"

Naruto's voice immediately revealed itself again, in an attempt to answer Hinata's questions.

"Well, I was wondering if I could...come in. I-If I could join you..."

Naruto's voice lowered several notches, nearly to a whisper, as if he was relaying a secret.

"Ya know, to carry out our conversation?"

Naruto's frequent queries, delivered in quiet tones, made Hinata's ears perk up and her heart flutter once more.

Hearing that Naruto wanted to join her in the bath was like music to her ears, an offer that would ensure that her night would improve significantly.

Just like she wanted.

It wasn't really unpleasant at all—rather, euphoric—to take a bath with Naruto.

It always is, and the result is pleasant every single time.

Hinata couldn't help but recall all the other times Naruto accompanied her in the bath, where intimacy soon followed behind—a wonderfully satisfying way to liven up the bathing experience.

Such experiences were the greatest pleasures in life and a luxury that only marriage could provide.

Bathing together always made one another happier, fulfilled, and more refreshed than bathing apart. The two were always left in good spirits.

As a result, Hinata giggled at the sound of her husband whispering his requests to her, as though he were infringing on her privacy and would, therefore, not get the response he desired.

Oh, he had nothing to be concerned about.

Hinata nodded, tilting her head back against the bathtub's cushion pillow, "Oh, my precious Naruto-kun, of course, you can come in. It would make me so happy if you do." Hinata purred in response, her lavender eyes fixed on the bathroom door a short distance away. And as she accepted Naruto's request, she heard a growl of satisfaction from the man she loved coming through the door.

"Oh, honey, what a sweet invitation that is. Well then, I'm coming in."

Naruto rushed into the room after accepting Hinata's alluring offer, eager to greet his midnight blue-haired beauty.

However, as he walked in, an agonizingly lengthy creak of the bathroom door opening filled the entire space, briefly disrupting the tranquility and quiet found inside.

Hinata waited excitedly for her dashing spouse to enter and present himself to her, but the creak of the door seemed to last an eternity.

Her lavender eyes were drawn to the door as it cracked wider and wider, till the appearance of her significant other was at last presented to her.

Hinata's naked body flushed entirely as she watched her blonde spouse take a sidestep past the open door to enter the room she was in, finally revealing himself to her.

The midnight blue-haired woman couldn't stop herself from biting her lip as she connected her eyes to her lover's dreamy blue ones just a few feet away.

His entire body was in full view, with the lights from the candles flickering back and forth, highlighting different portions of his body in fractions of a second.

In addition, from what she could see now, he was wearing a black satin lounge set, a sleepwear ensemble that included a matching button-up shirt and pants. As a finishing touch, the satin ensemble included orange accents down the shirt, slacks, and sleeves.

But what really sent Hinata's heart racing was the fact that Naruto has purposely left his satin shirt unbuttoned, allowing it to sag open and reveal his gloriously tanned body and all of the exquisite gifts it holds.

Hinata couldn't help but wriggle in the tub, splashing the water about as she soaked up her husband's chiseled abs and pecs, which practically bulged out at her.

She licked her lips as she ran her eyes over his pink nipples, which looked to be hardened at the moment; pointy and alluring.

Naruto snickered as he noticed his wife eyeing him over, unaware that he was doing the same to her.

Now that he was inside the bathroom, he used his blue eyes to sweep over his naked wife as her flawless body lay submerged in soapy bathwater that obscured her entirely from his view. Her body was extended due to her resting position, thus her legs made it to the end of the bathtub, just barely revealing themselves.

Naruto, however, caught glimpses of her enormous breasts, the two creamy mounds of hers frequently floating above the water and giving him a sneak peek of their voluptuous goodness.

The short-haired blonde couldn't hold back a moan from such a sight.

Naruto put up a grin, a cheery one to greet his lover, "Hello, my beautiful wife." His cerulean gaze swept up and down Hinata's form, admiring her from afar.

He licked his lips in a seductive manner, dragging his tongue slowly across them.

"Mmm, now don't you look scrumptious."

Naruto greeted his wife in a sensual tone along with a compliment, one that he knew could easily make her weak in the knees.

He watched in satisfaction as Hinata squirmed in her bath, biting her lip briefly to contain herself. Such a sight could only signify that his plan had worked exactly as he had intended.

Hinata's cheeks flushed pink, but she, too, sought to greet Naruto.

"Hello, my lovely husband." Hinata greeted back, with the roll of her shoulders, a seductive motion of her own.

Naruto couldn't help but release yet another moan at such an enticing display, his cock twitching within his lounge pants.

But before advancing further, Naruto took a brief look around at his surroundings, soaking in the candlelit bathroom and all of its tranquilities.

The candles present were placed on countertops, near the sink, and on decorated shelves that marked their locations throughout the bathroom.

The sparks of fire inside such candles flickered and flitted, and the main lights were switched off, creating an idyllic composed mood for the room.

The air was also filled with a delicate vanilla aroma that was nearly edible to the blonde.

The vanilla aroma was warm, cozy, and rich, but it was also sensual, and it genuinely blessed Naruto's nostrils, luring him deeper into the room.

Upon entering Hinata's tranquil realm, Naruto could undoubtedly feel his own body relaxing considerably.

His troubled recollections of putting his kids to bed earlier seem to disappear completely from his head, forgotten for the time being.

Now, he was focused only on his wife.

Solely on his wife.

The short-haired blonde chuckled before gently closing the door behind him with a push of his foot. The door creaked once more before closing with a gentle thump.

"You know, Hinata-chan, what would make me a happy man?"

Naruto's question was abrupt, catching Hinata's attention immediately. She perked up, her eyes plastered on her husband's backside.

"Oh, Naruto-kun. I believe I know plenty of ways to make you a happy man." Hinata purred once more with squinted lavender eyes, "But, to make matters simple. Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind?"

Naruto's eyes narrowed, his head turned over one broad shoulder of his to peer at his wife by the door.

He snickered, "Heh, I'd be a very happy man indeed to stand in this exact spot and watch you as you bathe. I must confess, Hinata-chan."

Naruto moaned his desires into the dimmed room, already horny from witnessing his wife fully naked in the tub, covered in soap and bubbles.

Hinata had little trouble getting Naruto aroused, and at this precise moment, he was just that.

Hinata was quite amused, her delicate voice bursting into adorable laughter, "Oh my love, you're so naughty. You know that would make you quite the pervert."

"Hah!" Naruto scoffed before returning to face his wife, the main door now shut and the two were finally granted the luxury of privacy.

The spiky-haired blonde narrowed his eyes playfully at the mature woman from afar, "If wanting to appreciate your beauty, wanting to take you in as you lie naked and carefree in the bathtub, while resting in your most gorgeous form, deems me a pervert..." Naruto shrugged, giving her a cheeky grin, "I'm just fine with that."

Hinata couldn't hold back her laughter due to Naruto's comment, unable to hold in the amusement of witnessing her shameless husband. His lack of shame never gets old to witness.

"Oh Naruto-kun, you're such a bad boy." Hinata chastised him, her jolly lavender eyes landing on him between her laughter.

However, as it did, her lavender gaze wandered down to his hands, which seemed to be full and in which his fingers were grasping two separate items.

Wine glasses.

The midnight-blue-haired woman's laughter quickly died down and a new emotion came forth to take the helm.

Curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow, "Hm, what have you got there?" She inquired, her head tilting in interest, "Is it for me?"

She stared in astonishment as Naruto nodded his head and then lifted the wine glasses. Hinata was alerted to the glasses by his motion after they had previously been concealed in the palm of his hands.

Now that Naruto has presented the wine glasses, Hinata could see the rich crimson wine that filled them, a fermented fruit alcohol drink that surely aids in relaxation.

Naruto smiled slyly, "Yeah, I got you a little something. Hope it's not too much." He replied casually with a shrug before advancing further into the room.

He set his distant wonderment aside in favor of getting a better look at his wife. Now he was determined to give her the thoughtful present of wine that he had specifically purchased for her and had been keeping hidden within the back of one of their kitchen cabinets, untouched...

Until now.

Naruto's journey forth was smooth, his steps light against the marble floor. His bare feet took him closer and closer to the beautiful woman residing in the room's bathtub.

Hinata could feel her heart begin to race after every step her lover took to get to her. Every time he took a step forward, her heart sped up and her cheeks grew warmer, her lavender eyes fixated on him throughout his entire journey to her.

She let out a delighted hum once Naruto finally approached, extending one arm to provide her with her alcoholic beverage.

"There you are, my beautiful hime." Naruto spoke softly to her, his body leaned slightly over hers.

His thoughtful efforts were rewarded with a gorgeous smile from his wife, her delicate facial features lighting up in a way that took his breath away. Naruto froze like a complete idiot as a result, his widened blue eyes planted solely on her.

Hinata slowly moved one soapy arm from the bathwater's depths to take the wine glass from her husband's grasp, noticing how the liquid jostled within the glass as a result of its movement.

Soap and water streamed down her lifted arm, soaking her hand, but she managed to hold her glass securely.

"Thank you, Naruto-kun." She smiled as she spoke, and Naruto was finally jolted out of his romantic stupor by the sound of her voice. He reciprocated by flashing a smile of his own.

As he gazed at the beauty of his wife before him, the whiskered blonde's lips expanded wide, revealing nearly all of his gleaming white teeth.

He couldn't help but bend forward to kiss Hinata on the lips, gently lifting his prosthetic hand to cup the back of her head.

Both groaned as they reveled in such a passionate kiss, one in which their lips clashed fiercely, eliciting feelings that seemed to explode within them.

The kiss was brief, but it was powerful for them both. That fleeting but sincere display of affection meant a great deal to them, touching their hearts.

Hinata sighed softly as her husband lavished her with more kisses, his lips softly crashing against hers after every second to give her gentle pecs.

Naruto moaned in bliss, "Mmm, you're welcome." He leaned back to curse, his blue eyes taking a moment to run down his wife's luscious body in the bathtub.

Only one word came to his mind.

Perfection.

The spiky-haired blonde clicked his tongue, "Mmm, kami, I love you so much." He moaned before releasing his delicate hold on the back of his wife's head, shifting his entire body away from her to take a seat on the edge of the tub.

He carefully placed his ass on the rim of the tub Hinata was in, exactly so he could look down at her as she bathed.

He ran his gaze over the soapy bathwater she was in, which seemed to flow back and forth within the round tub, filling every inch of space from bottom to top.

Hinata's pale skin and all the other features of her body that Naruto adored were continually washed clean by the soapy water.

Naruto bit his lip briefly, clutching his own wine glass firmly, "How's the bath going, baby?" Naruto inquired, never once taking his eye off the beauty before him.

Hinata hummed, sinking herself deeper into the water to soak up more of its divine goodness, wine glass in hand, "Oh, it's been wonderful. But now that you're here, everything is far better." Hinata responded with a sincere smile, expressing her delight at being in the presence of her blonde lover.

In response to her statement, Naruto hummed with delight, every fiber of his being growing brighter and happier. His blue eyes sparkled, swiftly overflowing with joy, his whiskered cheeks widening to exhibit a childish grin, causing Hinata's cheeks to flush red.

Hinata's one compliment was all it took to make Naruto's night completely brighter. He couldn't even remove the idiotic grin from his face.

The whiskered male cooed, "Ah, Hinata-chan, you're gonna make me blush. You certainly have a gift." Naruto nodded cheekily, "you surely know how to touch a man's heart."

Hinata beamed, her heart fluttering in her chest due to such a profound compliment, "Oh but it's true, after all, my love. It makes me happy to have this time of privacy with you."

"Right back at ya, hime."

Hinata's cheeks flushed even more at the sight of her husband's heated stare and response, sincerely thrilled that she had been able to touch his heart, just as he had done hers by blessing her with the object that lay in her palm right this second.

Wine was just what she needed.

Hinata refocused her attention on her wine glass, before finally and excitedly taking a sip from it.

She was instantly welcomed by a delightful cherry flavor, a fruity taste with a pronounced acidity and zing. In response, she felt her throat tingle, her chest warm up, and her limbs lighten.

She eagerly sipped her beverage, tipping the cup toward her lips so that more of the liquid inside the glass could fall into her gaping mouth.

Naruto observed Hinata hum in contentment after taking a few gulps, her throat muscles steadily moving as it received more of the red wine.

He grinned, delighted to see she was enjoying the alcoholic beverage he had supplied for her, before taking a few sips of his own.

The two were silent for a moment, just enjoying each other's company and the alcoholic beverages in their possession—drinks they were able to consume privately, away from their children's eyes.

Hinata wasn't much of the drinker type, but she did enjoy occasionally downing an alcoholic beverage to help her relax and unwind.

Therefore, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

The midnight blue-haired woman let out a pleasant hum before withdrawing her glass away from her lips and settling on merely holding it in one hand.

"Mmm, so good," She licked her lips, licking away the remaining wine residue.

"Yeah?" Naruto chimed in, captivated by his wife's delight in obtaining wine. He wasn't sure if she'd be up for it, but he was pleased to learn that he actually helped her more during her downtime.

"Yes, the wine tastes so delicious," Hinata commented, raising her glass to shake it in response to Naruto's earlier statement, "It's just what I needed, Naruto-kun. Thank you so much."

"Ahh," Naruto shrugged her off, "What did I say about thanking me? Just know that I will help and provide for you in every way I can. It's the least I can do as your husband, Hinata-chan." Naruto announced with a wink, swaying his body back and forth across the bathtub's circular surface.

In return, Hinata cooed, her cheeks becoming even redder at the passionate acknowledgment Naruto delivered her. It was extremely thoughtful and demonstrated just how much he cared for her and her needs, not to mention how much he loved her.

Naruto was always eager to meet her every whim and desire, going out of his way to ensure she was well cared for.

Boruto and Himawari included.

He was a wonderful parent and husband, always there and reliable.

Hinata found herself once again thanking her lucky stars that she was married to Naruto, for finally being recognized for who she was by someone she admired.

She was quite powerless to suppress her childish grin.

Hinata hummed quietly before lifting her foot from the tub's water and directing it over to pat Naruto's hip.

Water dripped down from her lifted leg, dampening everything in its proximity but the two didn't seem to mind, their gazes fixed on one another.

Naruto cocked a brow.

Hinata tilted her head, "Mmm, such a good husband you are to me, Naruto-kun. I am deeply grateful to have you in my life, here to care for me, to love me for all that I am." Hinata hummed softly, "I am grateful that Himawari and Boruto are blessed with such a wonderful, hardworking father. That is all I have ever wished for."

Hinata's genuine answer ached Naruto's whiskered cheeks, bringing back his youthful grin. He bent his head, his short hair ruffled in the process, "Aww, hime, you're gonna make me tear up. I, too, consider myself fortunate to have you as a wife. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." Naruto stated unequivocally, speaking from the bottom of his heart, "It is an amazing fortune that I have been granted your love, this home, and even our lovely children. Every single blessing that I have, I cherish every single day."

"Oh N-Naruto-kun." Hinata whimpered, speechless.

It wasn't long before her lavender eyes welled up with tears, happy tears as she gazed up at her radiant husband, submerged in warm water aimed to cleanse and relax her.

His words were deep and powerful, slamming right into her heart, which began to race erratically, pounding against her ribcage in a frenzy. Her eyes were drawn to the blue irises that returned her gaze, falling lost in the two blue depths of her husband's eyes.

Naruto's gaze had her completely fascinated, fixated, and motionless.

But Naruto was in the same boat, his movements halted as he gazed dreamily into his gorgeous wife's eyes, taking the time to properly appreciate all that she is.

Their love staring contest lasted for a few moments until being called off by Hinata due to a notion that occurred to her.

Her trance was broken, and she let forth a gasp, "O-Oh, that r-reminds me." She glanced back at Naruto, who had been shaken out of his trance yet again by her voice, his blue eyes blinking frantically.

"Hm? What's on your mind, babe?" He asked in a murmur, before giving his wine a sip in anticipation for her reply.

The mature woman hummed, softly jiggling her wine glass, "How did it go with Boruto and Hima? Did they give you any trouble? Did they go down easy for you?" Hinata inquired, interested as to how events transpired with Naruto taking the initiative and putting their two rowdy children to bed for the night.

It was surely not a task he was used to, after all.

Usually, Hinata was the one to look after Boruto and Himawari's well-being, skilfully covering such responsibilities as a responsible mother should.

This includes cooking for her children three times a day, cleaning up after their numerous play sessions, showering them with attention, bathing them, reading to them, and softly lulling them to sleep at night.

When Naruto wasn't gone on missions, he always played with Boruto and Hima, teaching them new physical abilities and engaging them in humorous hand-to-hand combat. He always kept them entertained and happy.

He taught them vital lessons, instilled in them important values, and was always there to pitch in whenever Hinata needed him to.

But when it comes to difficult chores like figuring out just how to fulfill them, exactly the way they wanted, or simply calming them down during their frequent fits...

Let's just say, he still needed a little work.

Hinata laughed as Naruto rolled his lips in a frenzy, releasing multiple "pssh" sounds before waving his free hand through the air, "Oh, please. Hinata-chan, putting the kids to sleep was easy; I didn't even break a sweat-"

"Oh really now?" Hinata cocked her head and stifled laughter since she was able to see right through Naruto.

She tapped his hip again with her foot, "Did you remember to read Kintaro's Adventures to them? That book is a favorite of both Boruto and Himawari. I read that book to them every night before they drift off to sleep."

Naruto grimaced, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "Uh well." He let out a nervous laugh. "You see I-"

"Oh, and did you make sure Himawari has her pink teddy bear? She can't sleep peacefully without it-"

"A pink teddy bear?" Naruto facepalms himself, "I mean, how could I have known? She seemed perfectly content with the hundred other teddy bears scattered across her bed-!"

"Boruto must also sleep with his nightlight on. He has a fear of the dark."

"Nani? Boruto? Scared of the dark? He never told me-"

"Of course, Boruto didn't, Naruto-kun. When it comes to expressing his own feelings, he is rather reticent. So, you must look for the signs because he won't openly admit his fears to you. Boruto most likely was glancing at his nightlight the whole while."

"Oh, yeah. He was! He kept looking over toward the nightlight, which confused me. But," The blonde male shrugged, "I didn't give it any thought."

Hinata sighed and shook her head chastisingly at her husband. He appears to have forgotten everything she has instructed him and has simply been winging it the entire night, attempting anything to encourage Boruto and Himawari to sleep.

It was him, being his usual self.

It brought so much amusement to Hinata. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Naruto-kun." She reprimanded.

"I'm sorry, Hinata-chan," Naruto replied hesitantly, scratching his neck again. "I genuinely don't know how you manage it all on a regular basis. Parenting is so goddamn difficult." He admitted with a troubled frown, rushing his hand up to run his fingers through his short blonde hair.

"Boruto was a little rowdier than normal tonight. It was as if I wasn't even talking half the time. He cried and screamed, refusing to go to bed so many times. He even tried to hide from me twice." Naruto exclaimed with a loud groan.

He shook his head, "Himawari was no better, I'm afraid. She continuously bombarded me with so many questions. She nearly talked my head off. It was as though she wasn't tired at all!"

Naruto put up a pout, sulking in his spot on the edge of the tub, "Sheesh, I lied big time. Putting those two to sleep is definitely not an easy mission. More like a total nightmare."

"So, I definitely," Naruto trailed off, his blue eyes falling down to the wine glass between his fingers. He raised it in the air, jiggling it in his grasp, "needed this." He proclaimed before taking another sip, causing Hinata to burst into laughter.

Her eyes gleamed joyfully upon receiving the truth, of knowing exactly how it went as he attempted to put Boruto and Himawari to sleep.

And Hinata thought it was absolutely adorable to witness Naruto try so hard to assume an exemplary parent role, to take on such a difficult responsibility. It was all so new to Naruto, to them both, but especially to Naruto. He had no idea how to care for a child, let alone another human being in general, so having to care for two children has come as an absolute shock to him.

It was hard for him.

But he's trying. He's trying so hard.

With that thought in mind, Hinata's maternal instincts quickly took over, and she found herself powerless to repress the urge to console him. She stretched out her free hand to clutch his arm, to caress him.

She ran her thumb back and forth along the silky fabric of his shirt, accidentally dampening it with soapy water.

"Oh, my dear Naruto-kun. I know it must be hard for you at times, taking care of the kids, but you must be patient. You must rely on these..." Hinata reached her body forth to caress his left ear, a gesture that caused Naruto to chuckle.

"And not this." Hinata retorted before giving his forehead a point, indicating his brain. Naruto grunted.

Hinata smiled, "Now that they are a little older, Boruto and Himawari will tell you everything they wish for you to know, you just have to be open to it." She explained, "And when you develop the practice of attending to them, you will naturally anticipate their needs and wishes. The secret, my love, is repetition, trial and error, and patience. I'm confident you'll get it one day."

Hinata's voice was soothing and kind as she gave Naruto helpful counsel, indicating her comprehension of his present predicament and issues, and making him feel much better.

He felt better now that he knew his current situation was normal and that it took a lot of effort, even for Hinata, to be able to handle a child, let alone two.

Children were tough. Learning to care for children takes time; it's definitely not some stroll in the park.

Each one is distinct and necessitates specific care and time to become acquainted with, in order to uncover each of their triggers, strengths, and weaknesses; dislikes and likes; fears and wishes.

It was akin to a difficult mission, but the outcome was significantly more rewarding and meaningful.

Hinata watched as Naruto deeply soaked in her words, his eyes fixated on the bathwater within the tub below.

Her smile grew as she witnessed Naruto's whiskered face suddenly break into a huge grin, his lips expanding widely and illuminating his features.

He shifted his gaze away from its fixed place to draw his attention back to her. He gave her an appreciative smile before lowering his free hand to clasp her own which gripped his arm.

His touch was light and delicate as if he were holding something valuable before moving Hinata's dainty hand into the air just as he lowered his head.

He planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand, pushing his lips against her damp flesh, never once taking his gaze away from her.

Hinata's cheeks completely burned scarlet at the sight and touch of Naruto's extraordinarily romantic gesture. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest, and her breathing had become fairly heavy. Her lavender eyes were slightly expanded but were locked on his blue gaze and lips.

"Thank you, Hinata-chan. Thank you for the advice, baby." She heard him whisper, his hot breath slipping from the cracks of his lips to hit her hand, sending goosebumps through her body.

"I truly hope you're right."

Naruto raised his head as he carefully lowered Hinata's arm back into the bathwater, allowing it to become submerged once more in the soapy liquid.

"And as always, my love, I believe in you," Hinata said, joyously swaying her legs in the water. "I'm confident you'll improve with time. But..."

"But?" Naruto questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Hinata hummed, "I'm still curious as to how you managed to put Boruto and Himawari to bed. It's a puzzle I can't quite solve-"

But before Hinata could finish her remark, Naruto interrupted her, giving her all the information she needed to clear up her uncertainty.

But he found himself uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck once more, "I well... I may or may not have been persuaded to give them milk and cookies-"

"N-Nani! Naruto-kun!"

"A-And I shared a few tales from my prior missions with them. That managed to do the trick; it put them right to sleep."

"Oh, Naruto-kun." Hinata chastised once more.

"S-Sorry, Hinata-chan."

"It's okay, my love. It's okay."

Following their serious discussion, the two decided to spend the next few moments completing their wine within their wine glasses. They swallowed the rest of their contents quietly, savoring the gratification that their bodies felt afterward.

After savoring every last sip of his beverage, Naruto let out a cheer, jumping to his feet.

Hinata laughed at the sight of his joy before her husband gently removed her empty glass from her hands.

"Woohoo! Now that hits the spot! I feel better already."

Hinata laughed once more, but settled for watching as Naruto moved away from her to the sink's countertop in the room, which was present behind him.

He rid himself of the two wine glasses by simply placing them on top of the bathroom appliance for a little while.

But Hinata couldn't stop her gaze from wandering down Naruto's clothed backside. She instantly noticed the way his satin shirt fluttered in the steady wind he created as he walked.

She bit her lip as she drifted down his tall frame further, only to ogle at his ass.

Her arousal immediately peaked.

She tapped the tub's edge with her finger while lightly kicking her feet, back and forth in the water, "Ya know, Naruto-kun, I've been wondering something babe..."

"Yeah, what is it?" Naruto perked up due to the abrupt sound of Hinata's voice, his head twisting around to face her again.

Hinata guided one of her feet out of the bathwater, pointing one big toe at him, and he watched, curious.

She guided her elevated appendage to trace up and down his muscular physique, pointing at his seductive apparel.

"I was wondering if you've chosen to wear that for me?" She asked, keeping her raised toe pointed at his unbuttoned satin shirt and pants.

"Are you trying to arouse me, hm, Naruto-kun?" Hinata inquired as well, with the tilt of her head, her pinned hair following her movements.

"Because it's working."

Hinata's words took on a seductive tone, one that flowed off of her tongue like honey to fill the quiet space around her. Such a tone was merely adopted due to the fact she was currently under the influence of alcohol.

Naruto knew that much.

But he was, nonetheless, fascinated by the way her demeanor shifted. He certainly wasn't able to resist the desire to indulge in more of Hinata's naughty behavior, to see just how far she would go.

His lounge shirt swayed back and forth the entire while as he fully twisted his body to return to her.

He shrugged, pulling his arms out wide, "Perhaps. You know I'm addicted to making that pussy of yours throb. And I knew that..." Naruto draped his hands down to clutch the sides of his satin shirt, showing off more of his chiseled torso, He gave his shirt a tug, "this would do the trick."

Now that was the final straw for Hinata.

She dipped her foot back into the water before pulling up one hand to beckon him over.

"Oh, you naughty boy. I must confess how much I adore your outfit, but..." Hinata bit her lip, "I would enjoy it much more if it were on the floor."

"On the floor?" Naruto's eyes darkened in arousal, "Are you trying to get me naked, babe?"

Hinata hummed, shrugging her shoulders, "Perhaps."

Naruto clicked his tongue before yanking his shirt again, just as he made it back in front of the tub, towering over Hinata. His presence cast a shadow on her, and his blue eyes ogled her as shamelessly as they pleased.

The short-haired blonde tilted his head, "Mmm, who's the naughty one now." He whispered, "But if that is what you want, I am more than obliged to undress for you."

Hinata's entire body blushed as her husband performed an enticing striptease for her hooded gaze, his large hands clutching his unbuttoned shirt and slowly but steadily pulling it off his person.

The smooth material slipped down his broad shoulders like water and down his chiseled backside, landing with a plop on the floor.

Hinata bit her lower lip at the sight of her beloved standing shirtless in front of her, no longer concealing any of his muscles from her gaze.

His tanned muscles bulged at her, flexing in the face of her enthralled stare.

She felt her pussy throb within the bathwater.

"Mmm, tasty." The midnight blue-haired woman whispered seductively which only earned her a chuckle from Naruto.

Slowly, he worked his fingers down his body to grab a hold of the lip of his pants, just where his cock was hidden, lying fully erect and thus pressing against the fabric.

Hinata's eyes shifted downward, and she watched as Naruto wasted no time in removing his pants.

He yanked them down slowly while keeping his eyes on her, "You wanted this right?" He spoke sensually as he yanked his pants off his hips, allowing the fabric to fall down his legs and spill at his feet.

He stepped out of them, leaving his discarded pants on the floor.

He was now only dressed in black boxers that hung loosely off his hips, revealing his defined V-line, the train of blonde hair that sprang from his crotch, and even the outline of his mighty cock, which was currently tucked away but badly longing to be released.

Hinata nodded her head, "Oh yes, Naruto-kun." She rolled her tongue in response to his earlier query, producing a sensual sound that made the blonde male curse under his breath.

The mature woman held the tub's edges even tighter, just to pull herself out of her reclining position and sit erect.

Throughout the process, however, the water surged back and forth, splashing against her body as she moved.

"And those." She whispered.

She sat up to get a better look at Naruto as he stood in front of her in only boxers, exposing his sun-kissed skin and well-defined muscles.

She groaned, pointing to the final item of clothing still attached to his body where her reward was concealed.

"I want your boxers off, Naruto-kun." Hinata opened her mouth briefly, just so her tongue could slip out of it, "I want your cock in my mouth."

Naruto's eyes widened at Hinata's desired instruction and her seductive conduct, as it marked a significant difference from her behavior previously.

But he wasn't complaining.

He simply gave her a nod, and proceeded to give her what she wanted.

He yanked his boxers off in the blink of an eye, stepping out of them to approach the tub, to approach his aroused wife.

Clearly, she was a lightweight, influenced by just one glass of wine, tipsy not only from the alcohol but also from the current ambiance, from the peaceful relaxing aura.

Naruto felt it too.

He was in the mood for intimacy, to have a good time with his wife all night long. He was willing to fuck her right here, right now in the tub, and then take her to the bedroom to complete their session there.

But first...

He stepped forward, taking the necessary steps to stand right in front of her lifted form, his build towering over her like a mountain.

His blue eyes were indistinct, dark, and totally fixed on her as he stood nude, in all his naked splendor.

Hinata found herself quite compelled to observe as his huge cock rocked back and forth in time with his movements. Just the sight caused her pussy to twitch within the bathwater, responding with pleasure to its other half.

The horny woman let out a hum of satisfaction as she took the time to carefully observe her husband's exposed member between his legs with her lavender eyes.

And as she did so, she sat back and watched the show, paying close attention to every little aspect.

No matter how many times Hinata saw it or felt it inside of her, Naruto's cock never failed to surprise her. That was beyond a doubt.

The one and only member she would ever be pleased by, (a dream come true for her), protruded proudly from a patch of curly blonde hair.

Naruto's cock was imposingly large, lengthy, and thick, and its angry mushroom-shaped tip bulged and twitched under her gaze.

Thick, blue veins sprout from underneath his member's thick meat sheath and spread like channels all along his length.

Hinata couldn't help but trace such veiny routes with her eyes, taking in every inch of him.

His cock was extremely excited at the moment, dribbling precum at the tip, which dropped with loud splats on the floor, sullying the ground before him.

Naruto possessed a dick of the gods, one that could satisfy her at any time of day, in any fashion, in any position, and with no difficulty at all.

Hinata's excitement level skyrocketed just by looking at it, prompting her to wriggle like a lunatic in the bathtub.

Naruto let out a low hum as he noticed his wife eyeballing his erect cock, practically drooling at the sight of it before her.

He extended his fingers down to grab the base of it, clamping his hand tightly around the hot flesh.

"Now, my naughty wife, I think it's time we had some fun." In an effort to further tempt Hinata, Naruto purposefully gave his cock a bounce with his hand, causing the pointy flesh to jiggle in front of her face.

The young woman felt her breathing quicken, her heart beat faster, and her womanly hormones began to behave strangely in response to the teasing display.

She experienced a hardening of her nipples that was almost intolerable and an increase in the frequency and intensity of her vaginal twitches.

She was so hungry for Naruto's cock, she couldn't sit still. She couldn't help but praise it, for acknowledging its magnificence and beguiling hold on her.

She tightened her grip on the tub, digging her nails firmly into the material, "Y-Your cock is s-so big. I-I could never..." Her words of awe faded as she noticed Naruto's dick twitch, a quick gesture of lurching up in response to her praise.

"Oh my kami."

Hinata stared in fascination once more, savoring the gift that lie so boldly in front of her.

She was counting herself blessed once more for being graced by the masterpiece of the man in front of her, a work of art that gladly and happily shares his gifts with her whenever she desires.

She swore she felt her heart flip in her chest. Her breath hitched as well.

Chuckling at his dazed wife, Naruto gently reached out to cup her chin, to help direct her attention away from his cock and toward his eyes.

Only then, did he realize how dull and clouded her lavender orbs appeared, a stark contrast to before. The woman he saw now was unquestionably different from the one he initially encountered when he entered the washroom earlier.

The woman before him now looked so hungry—hungry for pleasure, hungry for his attention, hungry for his dick.

The mature, intelligent young lady from before was long gone, replaced by a horny one who was anxious to sate her lewd cravings, fully present in the moment, and with a lack of desire to remain idle.

It was an amusing sight that made Naruto laugh again, his mind undoubtedly storing such a look from Hinata deep within the recesses of his brain.

The whiskered blonde licked his lips, his thumb caressing her supple skin, her chin in his grasp.

"You want my cock, hm? It's what you want, isn't it, Hinata-chan?"

Naruto observed Hinata closely as he proposed his questions and breathed them upon the fiery cheeks of his lover.

He watched as her eyes fluttered and twinkled, her breath hitched, and a gulp slipped down her throat.

But ultimately, her head nodded.

"Y-Y-Yes, I want it so bad, N-Naruto-kun—your big fat cock."

Hinata begged. She begged for his cock in that seductive voice Naruto loved so fucking much.

He was unable to control the shaking in his legs, the shivers that danced up and down his spine, or even the unceasing twitching of his member within his grasp.

"Fuck."

He bit his lip down at Hinata before gently removing his hand away from her chin to instead rest it by his waist.

He gave her a nod down at his erect member, a nod for her to take off, to do as she wished.

"Well then." He taunted, "Come and get it."

Naruto didn't have to tell Hinata twice before she leaped forward, her upper body extending out of the tub in an attempt to grab Naruto's cock.

Naruto let go of his cock, only to be replaced by Hinata's dainty hand, which tightly held the base of his shaft, simply to keep his rod steady and pointed in her direction.

As soon as the spiky-haired blonde felt Hinata insert his cock into her hot mouth, a strong jolt of pleasure hit him square in the gut.

In desperation, her lips ringed his mushroom tip, and only from there, she immediately sought to put those lips to good use.

While holding onto the base of his cock with one hand, Hinata began to continuously bob her head back and forth. Each time she bobbed her head, her mouth seemed to take in more and more of his length.

Her oral muscles joyfully reacted to the presence of his massive, veiny cock in her mouth by rubbing against him, stroking every inch of him that was present.

Naruto completely lost it.

He threw his head back to let out numerous groans, groans of pure satisfaction.

Hinata's mouth was searing hot to his sensitive member, amplifying the pleasure he felt.

Tingles ran through his entire nude body, strong ones that made his toes curl and scratch against the floor, his knees shake, and his abdomen tense. His muscles tightened at moments as he felt Hinata's mouth run over all the sensitive areas along his crotch.

As a result, Hinata's favorite melodies were brought to life.

Naruto's groans and moans of ecstasy.

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[i-sveikata]

Oh GIRRRLLLL

I honestly expected angst but got such soft interactions from this chapter! I mean, yes, Vegas was very filthy in his thoughts but also very sweet? I love him even if he doesn't love himself. Vegas feelings about himself are something we all assumed so no surprises here. It still hurts how badly abused he was and how it all turned him how he is now. Our childhood creates what we are in the future. It's another reason why I'm glad his father is finally dead.

I knew Vegas was in love with Pete. But OMG. His thoughts are so sweet and wholesome. He is so smitten 😂 If he could tell Pete he loves him, he would every hour. The complements!!

It's also nice to really see how he regrets all the hurt he has done to Pete. His confusion in the shower was really worrying. He is scarred as well by this time in the safehouse and will never forget. But I admire his determination to not hurt Pete ever again. Just this shows how much he means to him. I hope Pete's grandmother sees it too 😭

I hoped so bad that the talk would happen in this chapter. But ah, it's okay. I can wait 😩 But I know the conversation is not going to be pleasant. If Pete feels safe enough to sleep side by Vegas it should convince her it's okay?? Right?? 😭

After these few chapters with constant action, danger and sex, it really feels so calm. I loved their conversation about the future. They really needed that. And omg, finally they realized they can just lay together, talk and feel satisfied with it too. Vegas needs to learn he doesn't need to perform all the time to keep Pete's time and attention. And I loved Pete's reassurance that we won't leave. He doesn't want to leave. And that Vegas is more than that.

This chapter left me with this warm feeling. Not counting the dread of the upcoming confrontation 😅

Thank you for this! I loved it so much! 😊❤️

Ohhhhh right I guess I meant more internal angst?? Rather than relationship angst lol the only yikes moment was when Vegas thought they were back in the safe house and freaked Pete out too

Omg but yesss so much softness between them this chap they really are just so relieved that they’re both alive tbh haha yeah Vegas is a mixture of horny and romantic devotion for sure. Ahhh yeah we all saw that coming from the way he already treats himself having no concern for his own life and body his pov is really not all that surprising. Ugh yeah his dad sucks so bad we are very glad that he’s dead

Yesssss as soon as they get the I love yous out Vegas is going to be a totally menace like constantly telling Pete how much he adores him. Pete is going to be low key flustered for the rest of his life hahahah

Oh yeah that moment in the shower was VERY bad for him because Vegas’ low self esteem is already telling him that he’ll never deserve Pete and that he’s going to lose him but Vegas so desperate for his love that he wants to try anyway!!!! Despite!! Despite!!!That promise to himself not to physically hurt Pete again is just another way that Vegas is trying to prove to himself that he might be able to be good. That he can control his worst impulses. That maybe despite everything his father has told him he could somehow get this one thing right for pete. That’s why he freaked out so much about Pete’s wrist. That was his last hope going up in flames before his very eyes!!!

Oh lol the showdown with Pete and his grandmother feat drugged up Vegas is going to be VERY interesting hahah but they are going to find some kind of common ground don’t worry!

Yea was very important that they get the chance to just slow down for a second and be together (even if they had to be physically unable to move around in order to make that happen lol) but yes they are both steadily learning that they’re good for each other in these moments. That they both know how to take care of the other person (and that they understand each other enough that they can recognise when the other is holding on by a thread and needs that support) Whatever this fucked up thing between them is it seems to be working!! Not withstanding having to talk to Pete’s grandma about it hahahah