#then immediately after he went 'is your pulse really that fast?' looking at the little monitor thing

[glitteryapricotranchbiscuit]

Mmm genshin fantasies? Maybe tighnari in heat/Rut, just whining and whimpering while reader gives him a handjob, squezing every last drop of his cum while he begs reader to let him push his knot inside of them?? Idk 👀👀

Listen, I want to break him so much and this gives me a perfect idea how reader can do it 😩👌🏻 thanks for the meal! haha

!● warnings: gn!reader, very smut (starts right away lol), NO MINORS ❌ or I'll eat u alive

note: not proof readed 🙈

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Tighnari and you were sitting in front of each other. Both of you looked into each other's eyes before you grabbed his dick earning a moan from him. “S-shit… (y/n) go faster.” He demanded right away from you. But he was in no right in this situation to demand from you to go faster. You wanted to see him break so you smirked and stopped your motions for a second to squeeze his dick. You leaned forward towards him. “You have no right demanding anything from me, Tighnari~ You are the one in heat, not me.” You chuckled a little bit before losing your touch from him to push him onto the bed. You earned an annoyed groan from Tighnari but it was clear for you that you had the upper hand today. His dick pulsing and leaking with pre-cum, ready for you to touch and play with it. But first of all you tie his arms on the bed frame above his head. “H-hey! We did not agr– aaahh~” Immediately his shouting was covered in moans. You already sat down on his legs to slowly rub his dick with both of your hands. It covers his length perfectly. While you are going painfully slowly up and down his dick you noticed his thick knot. Oh, you loved the times where it was fully stuck inside of you, waited for him to calm down before fucking you again and again. But today it was your turn to make him moan under your touches. “P-please… go faster!” Again he was so needy and didn’t listen to you. But to be fair, it was so cute how he looked up to you with those hearty eyes. They were filled with so much lust and love, it drove him crazy how slow you were going on him today. His hip is already rutting into your hands, begging you to go faster and help him cum already! You stopped his movements with one hand of you and just palmed the tip of his dick on your hand. Circling it painfully slowly, hearing him moan louder. “Oh damn~” You said and while playing around with his tip he cummed in your hand. This made you stop touching him and just watch how he shut his eyes and moaned like a slut. His cum flowing out like there was no tomorrow made you really want to suck him but today you decided to milk every single drop of him. His cum covering his stomach and running down the side of his body to even cover the bed sheets. Without wasting more time you smeared his cum on his still hard dick again and this time you went faster with one hand. “W-wait, no please! I want to fuck you!” He was too sensitive to go another round but you didn’t care. You wanted every single drop to be squeezed out of his balls. So with his pleads to stop you continued to rub his dick as fast as you could. After some time you felt his dick pulsating again and you knew he would cum again. “Sh-shit..!” With another last rub from your hand his cum flew out of him again. You leaned down to suck on his tip receiving a soundless moan. Tignari’s eyes were open wide when his dick met your wet and warm mouth. “P-please…! Let me fuck you, please, please, please” His voice weaker than it was before you started abusing his tip with your tongue, meeting the slit on his dick while sucking him. God damn he tasted so good~ After letting go of his dick you spit on his half hard dick. “You know I won’t stop today, I want to milk you~”

And with this statement your hands meet his dick again. I wish you the best luck to run away from Tighnari’s punishment the next morning, but this moment is for you to play with him like a puppet.

[scara-meow-che]

「 💭 」⠀hhmmmm thinking about al haitham being insufferable, you just have to show him the ropes of being around a person like you.

cw. NSFW (MDNI), sub! brat! character, dom! reader, gn pronouns, handjobs, so fucking messy, cum eating, one cockslap ♥︎, degradation → praise ♥︎, use of words (good boy ♥︎), he can be your good boy only if he wants to (or if you put him in his own place), thr start of my slut! al haitham agenda because i said so.

tell me straight in the eye that al haitham isn't a brat. come on, do it.

i am sorry for all dom! al haitham writers/enjoyers out there (i love you, you all enjoy good fucking food) but i can never look at haitham as a dom anymore, especially maining him since his release. i always find his personality fascinating (i relate to him at some point) yet i always find myself annoyed at how can he be so unbothered after being a damn menace. also, he's grandma's boy, i have a thing for them and i KNOW how much they yearn to be taken care of (but not without a fight).

he likes to rile up people, especially those who he is close with. he enjoys the way they would immediately react on his side jabs, commenting on how their emotions get the best of them while he secretly smiles when he sees the downward quirk of their brows.

but this doesn't apply to you.

you have always been calm, reasonable to the point where you'd let people speak their thoughts before you could relay on whatever issues you find in their opinions. it was a trait of yours that al haitham found interesting and caused him to befriend you with reasons being that you're both important figures in the akademiya while hiding the actual truth.

and sometimes, more often the not, al haitham would even doubt whether the face you currently show to these people is indeed the truth of who you really are. this most likely lead to him wanting more of an reaction from you. he thinks that you're not any different from these people in the akademiya and you'd soon find yourself in a rush of emotions, rendering you angry and frustrated at others.

yet he never had the chance to see it happen, well, not when others can see.

little did he know that his "research" on you wasn't gone unnoticed by none other than you. the simple side eye, the unappreciated coments here and there, the quick huff he'd let go whenever you'd manage to reason out with him as he leaves satisfied with your answer—al haitham thought he's good in what he's doing and soon, you'd finally have the opportunity to corner him and ask why is he that persistent in getting a reaction out of you.

"it's because i'm curious."

yeah, he is curious even when he had both his legs spread, with you behind his "feeble" form, a hand jerking off the red tip of his thick girth while the other's busy pinching on his sensitive nipple.

"so t-this is who you really are, a-ah fuck, huh, f/n?"

"baby, that's the third time asking me that question." you gave the base of his cock a tight squeeze before pumping his length on a faster pace. his eyes widened in pleasure, hands obediently set at the side with his head full of nothing but the heavenly sensation on his dick. "would've been better if you just keep on moaning for me."

"as if it's logical enough of me to do that."

first mistake. the tight grip on the base of his cock continued, his pulse quickening in anticipation before feeling the fast and steady pumps on his dick. it was messy, so, so messy with the way the tip leaks with precum and you went to smother it around the whole shaft. a deep groan managed to escape his lips, followed by his uneven breathing when you moved your other hand to pinch on his nipple.

"yet you can't pull yourself away from me? are you lying to me, haitham? because your dick seems way more honest than what your words imply to."

the way you whispered on his ears caused him to flush a deep hue of red all over, making you chuckle. al haitham bit on his lips, his head can't seem to take a grip on how blissful it felt to have you please him like this. he thought that he'd finally knew something about you that others doesn't have a single idea about but it looks like he'd discovered something about himself.

"it's b-because, fuck, 'm so close."

his hips keep on buckling to meet the lazy thrusts of your hand, head tilting back to rest on your shoulder. it was a damn pretty sight, the akademiya's known scribe, who used to be the acting grand sage, an authoritative figure that people seemed to be wary of, is moaning out how close he just is from coming on his co-worker's hand.

you can feel his dick twitch in your hand, the nerve on one side pulsing as he dances close to his orgasm. the faint calls of your name made its way to your ears, making you smile as you huff out sweet words on his ears.

"yeah, you're close?"

"y-yes, 'wanna come, ah, it feels so good."

just as he's about to come, he felt your hand letting go of his cock, causing the length to snap back up on his stomach. then it's followed with a quick slap on the tip, the sudden impact caused al haitham to shake and he felt himself coming so messily, spurting thick goo on his thighs and chest.

"s-shit, ah, that's so—."

he couldn't even catch a breath because you continued on pumping on his cock, rendering him putty from oversensitivity. his moans now came unfiltered, his body disobeying whatever the fuck he was on about earlier because he never felt this good before.

"aw, you look so adorable coming like that. i wanna see you do it one more time." you gave him a quick kiss on his cheeks, smiling when he leans in closer as if he's asking for another one.

despite the ache he felt on his cock, in addition to your hands so desperate to milk him another load, he obeys your words and focused on reaching another orgasm. he was slightly trembling by now, sensing that he's a minute away from his peak.

and you can also sense the way he looks out of it, pretty eyes closed but tears had already pooled out and drips down on his pretty skin. you can't deny that al haitham is a gorgeous man but his attitude will surely cause him trouble. but that's not something you can't do nothing about.

especially when you can feel his cock twitch and then shoots out more cum than he did earlier.

"you're such a good boy, al haitham~" you cooed while you scoop out all his cum on your hand, pumping him out until he went to reach out on your hand. "you did such a good job, yeah?"

"yes, i did good. 'm your good boy~"

"yeah, you are? then you wouldn't mind cleaning up after your mess, right?" as he leans down back at you, he sees you lifting your hand right in front of his face, your palm slick with his cum. he can't stop the blush on his face and ears, embarrassed at how the strong scent of his load shot lust straight through his head. yet, no matter how much he reason out with himself, he was still too into it, too into how you just had him wrapped around your fingers.

it's just because i'm curious. he thought before he wraps one hand around your wrist and starts on licking on your cum-coated skin. you smiled, using your free hand to brush on his locks.

"see? you can be good. if you keep behaving like this then i'd spoil you a lil' more... unless you have other plans in mind."

"this won't happen again," he replies after he's done cleaning up your hand. you quirked an eyebrow at him as he peels himself away from you, giving you a stern look. as if that would faze you.

"there won't be no second time but rest assured that this will stay between us."

yeah, he'd just keep on denying the truth if he gets to see this side of you more often.

[call-me-little-sunshine84]

The Getaway (Jim Hopper x female reader 18+)

Characters: Jim "Chief" Hopper x female reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Warnings: some fluff, a lot of smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, orgasm delay (kind of, maybe)

Words: 1.4k

Summary: you, Hopper, and a hot tub. That's about it for a plot

A/N: here I am again with another smutty Hopper one-shot. I can't seem to get him out of my head 🫣

Wow, this is beautiful you thought as you pulled up outside the Airbnb. You had spent the last few weeks convincing your boyfriend, Hawkins Police Chief Jim Hopper, that you both needed a vacation. He resisted, utterly convinced that the town might actually collapse without him. You persisted though, using the argument that it might be best for everyone if he came back in a more relaxed, less stressed mood. In the end he relented, agreeing only to a weekend getaway at a cabin in the mountains. Not exactly your dream vacation, but you took it because it meant two days completely alone with him. 

The last few days had been chaotic, from getting all the last-minute details together to making sure you had packed everything - with Hopper reminding you repeatedly that you were only going for the weekend, not moving out. You both needed this break, and this place seemed like it would be just the thing. You made your way up to the cabin, and once you got inside you looked around in awe. It was really beautiful. Simple, but that was what Hop wanted anyway. The photos online hadn’t done this place justice.

You walked from room to room, making note of the large four poster bed and you grinned to yourself, knowing it would be well used before the trip was up. You both walked out onto the back porch. There was a fire pit off to the right, and to the left was something that immediately caught your eye - a giant hot tub. Hmmmmm you thought to yourself, cocking an eyebrow at Hopper. He laughed, knowing exactly what you were thinking. 

You went back inside and got unpacked. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, and you leaned back against him. He always made you feel so safe and loved. The way your body fit against his was like you were made for each other. You really hoped he would be able to unwind this weekend and leave some of the stress of his job behind. 

After cooking him a nice meal in the spacious kitchen, you both ate and just enjoyed not having anywhere to be, and no one to answer to, at least for a little while. “Let’s go outside and have some wine by the fire pit,” you suggested after everything had been cleaned up and put away. “Sounds good,” he replied, and you grabbed the bottle and two glasses off the counter. 

It was early fall, slightly chilly outside but not terrible. You walked over to the edge of the porch and looked up. It seemed like there were a million stars out. This felt like utter perfection, being here with him like this. He got the fire going and you poured him a glass and passed it over. You each had a few glasses, and you enjoyed having a relaxed conversation with him, but your eyes kept drifting over to the hot tub. You could feel the warmth spreading throughout your body, equally caused by the wine and from desire. 

He eventually noticed your distractedness and asked you what was going on. You smiled at him. “I’d like to try out that hot tub now,” you said with a wink. He jumped up so fast you couldn’t help but laugh. You both ran inside to change, and he was already back outside getting the jets and bubbles going by the time you made your way out to the porch. He ran his gaze over you appreciatively, having never seen that particular bikini on you before, and let out a long whistle. You blushed, feeling self-conscious despite the fact that he had seen literally every inch of your body before. 

You both stepped inside the hot tub, the water blissfully warm. You sank down into it, the feeling of the jets pulsing against your back wiping out every last shred of stress in your body. “I thought only I made you get that look on your face,” Hopper said with a deep laugh. “I can’t help it, this feels amazing,” you replied. “Well, let’s see if I can compete,” he said, making his way over to you. 

He leaned in and kissed you, long and deep. Your body immediately responded to him, heat radiating through you. He ran his hands up your arms, his fingertips trailing over you and making you ache for him already. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you. He kissed gently down your cheek, the side of your neck, the feel of his facial hair scratching against your delicate skin driving you wild. You groaned into him as he reached behind you and untied your bikini top, tossing it to the side with a wet thunk. Your breasts were his next target. He kissed first one, then the other, and began biting at your hardened nipples. You could feel your pussy trying to clamp down around nothing, already wanting him inside you so much it hurt. You straddled him the best you could in the water, feeling the bulge in his shorts rubbing against you. He kept up his assault on your chest, and you rocked back and forth against him, the friction driving you insane.

He reached down and stuck his hand inside your swimsuit bottom, finally touching you where you needed it. He slowly inserted one thick finger, and you moaned his name. “Yes, Jim, please,” you cried as he began to go faster, pushing in and out, then adding a second one. His thumb began making slow circles on your clit and the combination had you close to the edge already. You leaned back against the hot tub, and his mouth found your nipples again. You yelled in frustration and moved away from him when he abruptly removed his fingers, and you could feel your impending orgasm slip away. You had been so close, what the hell was he thinking?

“Patience baby, please,” he said, seeing the murderous look in your eyes. He removed the rest of your swimsuit, as well as his own. That’s more like it you thought. You grabbed his rock-hard cock and began stroking him, intending to return the favor of your orgasm denial, but one gaze at him was all it took for you to abandon that plan. His eyes were wide and lust-blown, and he was staring at you like you were a feast to be devoured. You kissed him, hard and sloppy, tongues dancing against each other. 

Everything turned fierce and fast. He pulled you onto his lap again, and you could feel his tip bumping against your folds. You spread your legs wider and settled yourself gently down onto him. You slowly began to move, after adjusting to the sheer size of him. You rocked yourself against his body, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Damn baby, you feel amazing,” he grunted, grasping at your hips to help you move faster. Being in the water, the spa jets pulsing against you and the water bubbling all around you and him inside you, it was like nothing you had ever felt. He was so deep inside you; you knew it would only be a matter of time before he had you seeing stars again. 

While still bouncing up and down on his cock, you leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I want you to finish me from behind,” you managed to gasp between thrusts. “Yes darlin’, anything you want,” he replied eagerly, as you carefully removed yourself from him and turned around. He pushed you up against the side of the hot tub and entered you once again. Neither of you held back this time, you pushing your aching pussy back against him, and him thrusting deeper and harder each time, hitting that spot inside you like only he could. His hands grasped your breasts as he thrusted. “Please don’t stop Jim, I’m almost there,” you cried. He reached one hand down to rub against your clit, knowing that it usually sent you over the edge, and this time was no exception. You felt the invisible cord inside you suddenly snap, your nerves endings on fire as you came around him. His movements became slower, sloppier, and you knew he was almost at his end also. With one hard final thrust he spilled himself inside you, grunting his pleasure loudly to the night sky.

He pulled out slowly and you both sank back into the seats of the hot tub. You looked up at the stars, completely sated and beyond happy. “See, vacations aren’t so bad, are they,” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “No, I guess you were right,” he replied with a laugh, pulling you against him and kissing your forehead. “We might have to do this more often”.

[childotkw]

Jordan, plz we need another part of the regulus saves izuna au

Also how far did the rumors about regulus really reach?? Was he infamous in a matter of days or did they have to do enough searching to find him???

I'd say he arrives about six months before the fated Izuna-getting-fatally-stabbed battle, which is plenty of time for him to arrive, adjust, start his little habit of magically healing people, and gaining a reputation. Madara had already heard rumours of a guy apparently able to heal even some of the worst wounds, so he immediately sets out to find him once they realise Izuna ain't gonna be coming back from this one. Hence the kidnapping! Lucky for him, Regulus has a weakness for brothers 😉

Most of the surrounding ninja clans in the Land of Fire would probably know about him by that point. They do deal in information after all, and someone who can heal as well as he can would be a hot topic. Some might have even gotten help from him, but he exists in this weird off-limits / no-man's-land space because he's a civilian, unaffliated with any clan, and isn't interested in being affiliated with any of them. They...don't really know what to do with him, to be honest.

But after he heals Izuna, the Uchiha are basically trying to claim him, and it kicks up a lot of interest (and protest - mainly from Regulus himself 😂)

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

"Oh, that's not right," Regulus muttered under his breath.

It had Madara straightening immediately from where he was slumped against the wall, the crack in his spine almost audible. Between one blink and the next, the man was beside him - and if Regulus were not already used to how fast these bastards could move, he might have jumped.

Which would have been a pity since he was wrist deep in someone's chest cavity at the moment.

"What is it?" Madara asked, low and rough from the hours he had spent in here without a break. Regulus could feel his own thirst, a burn that pulsed in time with his heartbeat and made his whole throat feel swollen.

"There's something in his wound," Regulus said, frowning a little deeper as he again felt that oily sliver brush against his magic before ducking away. "It's not...shrapnel or anything like that, but it's definitely responsible for the infection being as difficult to curb as it is."

"Poison?" Madara hissed, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, and Regulus might not be able to sense their chakra well but he could feel the weight spreading over the room like an uncomfortably hot blanket.

He clicked his tongue.

"Stop that," he snapped, feeling his headache grow. "And no, it's not poison. My mag - any foreign substances would have already been purged during my initial work. This thing...whatever it is, it's aware." He looked up at the other man. "It's sentient."

"So it's a parasite?" Madara suggested, mouth twisting with confusion.

"I don't know what it is," Regulus said, shaking his head. His hair, drenched in sweat from how long he had been healing, clung to his forehead and neck. "But it keeps slipping through my senses. It's hiding, trying to burrow deeper inside him to avoid me. But I can feel it. It's like ink - slick and disgusting. Whatever this thing is, it does not want me to heal your brother."

And like most older brothers would, like Sirius would if this had been Regulus, Madara's shoulders went back and his expression darkened with protective fury.

"Can you get it out?"

Regulus looked back down at where his hand was sunk into Izuna like he had dipped his hand through the surface of water, the spell he had cast the only thing making this possible. His mind raced, trying to recall something, anything, that might let him draw this toxic shard out of his patient.

"Maybe," he answered. "Though it won't be easy for him to endure."

Whatever manner of foulness polluted Izuna was strong. It was sucking the life right out of the younger man, draining his energy and keeping him on the precipice of death in a way that was unnatural. A lot like a curse, it feasted on him.

It was only Regulus' magic at this point that was keeping Izuna alive.

"Do it," Madara ordered.

[littlemisssatanist]

Small Peck - RuiKasa

—————

Tsukasa gets sick and Rui looks after him.

—————

Details

Non-con cheek kissing

Tsukasa questioning his sexuality

Sorry I've been gone for a while! Went on a little writing burnout :(

“Yeah, I won’t be able to make it to the rehearsal today.” Tsukasa coughed slightly, raising his hand to massage his sore throat. “I’m sick. I don’t want to endanger anyone else.”

“Are you sure?” Emu’s voice sounded concerned over the phone. “Would you like me to come over with some soup? It might help your throat.”

Tsukasa smiled tiredly. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok.” Emu said doubtfully. “Well, we’ll see you when you get better, which I hope will be soon.”

“Good bye.” Tsukasa said. “Have a good practice.”

He put the phone down, stumbling to bed. Truth be told, he was much more feverish than he let Emu know. His head hurt greatly, and it was hard to keep his eyes open.

Tsukasa would have greatly appreciated Emu’s soup; the girl was an excellent cook, but he didn’t want to trouble her.

He laid his head on the soft pillow and closed his eyes, seemingly only for a moment, but when he woke up the clock on his nightstand wrote 19:23.

The boy wanted to go back to sleep, but before he could drift off into the land of dreams, his door bell rang.

Tsukasa narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out who it could be. Saki was at the hospital once more, and he didn’t remember inviting any guests.

Begrudgingly, he dragged himself out of bed and went to answer the door. What he saw on the other side made him pause.

“Rui?” Tsukasa asked, confused.

The director stood across from him, smile wide on his face. His eyes seemed to twinkle with a look that reminded Tsukasa of whenever Rui got one of his insane ideas, and that alone made him weary.

“Hello, my little star.” Rui’s voice was smooth and melodic, and the alarms in Tsukasa’s heads started ringing. “I’m here on behalf of Emu.”

Rui pushed past the sick boy and took a look around before turning back to face Tsukasa. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” His almost sounded hurt.

Tsukasa closed his eyes to try to fight off an oncoming headache. “Emu told you?" (Curse Emu and her talkative personality).

“Hmm.” Rui sounded a lot closer than he was before, so Tsukasa immediately opened his eyes and jerked away. The sudden movement made his headache come back in full force, and his eyesight went black for a second.

He stumbles, and Rui reaches out to grab him by the arm to keep him from falling over.

“Are you ok?” Rui asks, Tsukasa’s vision still swimming. “You look rather pale.”

Tsukasa mumbled something under his breath, but all he could really focus on was how close he was to the director. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing fast, and hoped to whatever gods existed that Rui couldn’t feel it too.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Tsukasa heard Rui say, and felt him place a hand on his back, guiding the sick boy back to his room.

His head hit the pillow once more and he let out a sigh of relief and pleasure. Rui chuckled next to him, reaching to place a cool hand against his hot cheek. Tsukasa let out a breath, trying to calm his nerves.

Rui moved his hand up, brushing a stray strand of sunset-colored hair from Tsukasa’s face.

“I’ll make something to eat for you.” He said softly, and Tsukasa could feel himself lulling back to sleep.

When he woke up again, the smell of onions was the first thing he noticed. It was intoxicating, and his stomach rumbled.

“You’re awake already?” Rui’s voice came from the doorway, and Tsukasa raised his head to look at him. He was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed with a smirk pasted onto his stupid pretty face.

“How long was I asleep?” Tsukasa asked, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

Rui glanced at the clock. “About two hours. I’ve made some onion soup.”

Tsukasa got out of bed, and Rui came to his aid at once, holding him upright and walking him to the kitchen. He tried not to think too much about it.

The soup was good, even if it was slightly unusual. Then again, Rui was nothing if not unusual. He watched Tsukasa eat with sharp eyes, following his every move.

“Uhm… it’s delicious, thank you.” Tsukasa said uncomfortably, placing the spoon onto the bowl.

Rui smiled, standing up to take the bowl and taking it to the kitchen sink. Tsukasa stood up, fidgeting with his fingers. The director came back to stand in front of him, lifting a hand to feel Tsukasa’s forehead.

“You look a lot better now.” He muses.

Tsukasa nods. “I think my temperature has gone down.”

“That’s good.” Rui smiles.

Tsukasa thinks for a moment, not noticing how Rui’s eyes linger on his lips, before moving back up to gaze at him. “Well, that means you can go now, right?”

Rui blinks. “Hmm, I suppose.”

“Great!”

The faster he left, the better. Tsukasa didn't know if he could stand the atmosphere one more second. He all but pushed Rui out of his house, but the director manages to grip the doorway before Tsukasa can shut the door.

“Wait just a moment!” He says, and Tsukasa pauses.

Rui swoops down and presses a soft kiss to Tsukasa’s cheek, then withdraws and gives him a wave.

Tsukasa stands frozen in shock as Rui leaves, trembling hand raising to touch his face. “H-huh?!”

His scream resonates in the night.

[freudianslumber]

Tiger Man

Summary: The year was 1941, bandmates and secret lovers Scotty Moore and Elvis Presley got caught red handed by Scotty’s fiancée, and this led to the young men being thrusted headlong into the China-Burma-India theater of World War II as members of the first American Volunteer Group (The Flying Tigers).

Chapter 12. The Long Way Home

Pairing:  Scotty Moore/Elvis Presley (m/m)

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings:  gun violence, angst

With remarkable boldness, Elvis laughed in the face of the crazed Major who was aiming a gun at him menacingly: “How deluded can you be, Ishikawa?  I ain‘t got plans to spend eternity with a scumbag.”

“Quit trying to rile me up with your insults, that won’t work with me.  Nothing can save you tonight, El, just take a deep breath and prepare to die pretty.”  The Kempei officer replied, cocking his gun, then added: “It’s really quite romantic, like a new version of Romeo and Juliet.” If his life were not in immediate jeopardy, Elvis was certain he would counter with morbid sarcasm: “Sure, if one of them raped and murdered the other.”

Right then, some rapid footsteps could be heard scurrying up the stairs. “What’s that?” Elvis suddenly glanced behind Ishikawa at the direction of the door and yelled on the top of his lungs: “Seto, HELPPP!!!”  A look of shock came across the gunman’s face as he instinctively began to turn his head in that direction too.  A fraction of a second later he realized the American was bluffing, by the time he turned back the clever pilot had slipped into the dim hallway.

Irked by his own miscalculation, Ken Ishikawa muttered a curse word in Japanese and chased after his prisoner, firing a few shots at his back.  Elvis ducked as bullets flew by but kept running as fast as he could, it felt like forever but in reality, only a few seconds passed by when he made it to the bathroom and locked himself in it.

Breaking down the weak barrier of a locked bathroom door would normally be trivial for a highly trained intelligence officer like Ishikawa, but currently his effort was severely hampered by bouts of dizziness and blurry vision.  Then everything changed as the front door was kicked down, and Ninja-clad Katsunari Seto rushed into the space with pistol in one hand and flashlight in the other.  For a brief minute or two there was absolute silence in the house, but then a burst of intense gunfire broke out when Seto’s flashlight revealed a shadow in the short and dim hallway connecting the doorway and the dining room.  As the crossfire ceased, the smell of gun powder permeated the air. 

Moments later, Seto came out from behind the dividing wall that was used to shield himself, and moved closer to the panting, moaning lump in the hallway.  Illuminated by the flashlight, Major Ishikawa was clearly mortally wounded, with blood seeping out of several bullet holes on his torso.  He looked up at his childhood friend turned assassin, gasped out his accusation with great difficulty: “S-Seto, you betrayed me… and the emperor!  You… you traitor!” His eyes lost focus and rolled up as his agonal breathing terminated.  “War criminals and heartless murderers don’t deserve loyalty, Ken.”  Seto kneeled down, checking to be sure that breathing and pulse were both absent, and his pupils had dilated, confirming the Major had indeed expired.  He collected the dead man’s pistol and army knife and mounted them onto his own battle belt.  Seto stood up and began calling out: “Mr. Presley, are you okay? It’s me, Seto!  Ken is dead!” 

After a moment of silence, a small shuffling sound could be heard coming from behind the closed bathroom door, and a slightly hoarse voice responded: “Seto?  Is that really you?  Call me Elvis, I’m in the bathroom!”  That’s when his rescuer noticed a long metal chain on the floor which went under the bathroom door.   Before Seto tried to break down the door by force, he could hear the American unlock it from the inside.  With a little creak, the door opened, and the Flying Tiger slowly emerged from the darkness.  “Is that bastard really dead??” Elvis questioned, still not fully convinced of his safety from his tormenter.  While locked inside the dark room, he had broken a mug and used a sharp fragment to cut open the shirt sleeve that was used to tie his hands together.  Not surprisingly, he cut his fingers while trying to accomplish all this in a rush and without any light.  He held on to a large piece of shard, prepared to fight to the death once Ishikawa broke in. 

But now all of a sudden, it looked like this was no longer necessary.  The monster had been slain.  Seto’s familiar stocky built, black-framed eyeglasses and deceptively simple-minded face almost brought tears of joy to Elvis’ eyes.  The therapist/secret agent stepped closer: “Elvis, I’m so glad you are still alive.  I was afraid it would be too late!”  He took a hold of the pilot’s bloodied hands and inquired with concern: “What happened?  Where else are you injured?”  “Don’t worry, that’s just me being clumsy when I untied myself with this shard from a broken mug.  I think I got scraped on the shoulder by a bullet when Ishikawa shot at me from behind.  I was lucky, that’s all.”  He turned around, and Seto’s eyebrows furrowed at the prominent blood stains on his white shirt located at the back of the left shoulder.  From the short amount of time they had known each other, Seto already knew the stoic young man tended to downplay all of his injuries, it would be more accurate to assess the extent of these wounds personally.  Besides, just one look at him revealed the overall impression of someone malnourished and mistreated.  His unusual and torn attire made Seto wonder what more God-awful things Ken Ishikawa had done to him.  His cheeks were abnormally rosy, and his shirt was soaked with sweat despite the cool and damp room.  “Are you feeling hot?”  Seto held out his hand and asked for permission to feel the young man’s forehead, “Can I?”.  Just a quick brush of the skin there confirmed the therapist’s suspicion: “Elvis, you are burning up.  Let’s get out of here and get you some medical attention.”   

“What about Mizuki??  The poor lady was hurt a lot worse!  You’ve got her to the hospital, right?”  Elvis asked urgently as he suddenly remembered the dire situation of Mrs. Ishikawa.  Seto reassured the American that he had applied first aid to the young woman’s mutilated limb and transported her to a safe location where she could be tended to by a trusted surgeon without being threatened by too many suspicious minds or prying questions.  It was gratifying for Elvis to hear that Mizuki’s suffering and anguish were not in vain and she would ultimately succeed in breaking away from her suffocating arranged marriage and live to tell the tale.  In a way it even reminded him of himself and Scotty, wouldn’t it be great if their love could survive the war, overcome all the obstacles, blossom and bear fruit?

As the idealist filled his head momentarily with sweet visions regarding the future, agent Seto took out a shackle opener to unlock Elvis’ shackle.  The pilot’s right ankle was quite bruised up and swollen from earlier struggles against the metal during his close-range fight with Ishikawa, but nothing felt more liberating than when the same ankle was released from its confines after several days of being chained up.  With remarkable efficiency and effectiveness, Seto did a quick cleanup of the scene and bandaged up Elvis’ wounds.  The two then transferred the Major’s corpse downstairs and into the trunk of Seto’s vehicle parked at the back gate.

Thus in the dead of the night, Seto backed the car out quietly and drove away from the nice-looking residence with many dark secrets.  He explained to Elvis that most of the surrounding houses were vacant, left behind by business owners and wealthy British expatriates who had lived there previously.  Some were now occupied by Japanese Army officers and their families like the Ishikawas, but they were rather spread out.  This explained the exceptional tranquility of this neighborhood and meant that gunshots fired near midnight around here were unlikely to be noticed or reported.  The secret agent went on to outline his plans to sneak the newly freed Flying Tiger out of Japanese occupied Burma and back home safely.  The first step involved hiding him at a nearby Buddhist monastery, where a few rescued Allied POWs were staying temporarily.  Specialized undercover agents would then take over and provide all that was necessary to smuggle the American pilot across the border to China, e.g., funds, transportation, route, guide, etc.  Once inside Free China, Elvis would be sent to Kunming where he could eventually board an American military transport plane to return to the States. 

  

After elucidating each step involved, Seto realized he hadn’t heard a word from Elvis for a while.  He looked over at the passenger seat and found that the exhausted young man had nodded off with his head leaning against the car window.  The secret agent pulled the car to the side of the road to check on Elvis, worried that he might have passed out.  Once able to observe more closely, Seto was relieved to detect a slight heaving of the pilot’s chest that accompanied his breathing.  He felt Elvis’ forehead with the back of his hand again, further reassured by the absence of high temperature.  The fever had apparently defervesced for now.  In his slumber, the flying ace looked even younger than he normally did, long eyelashes casting a shadow on his cheeks.  It was hard to fathom how much depravity and cruelty the sweet-faced lad had already experienced at this young age.  Hoping not to disturb his much-needed rest, Seto started the car again as quiet as he could and went back on his way.

________________________________________________________

New Year’s Day 1943 in Memphis was crisp and cold as usual, the sun barely made a cameo in the gray sky and was already starting to slip away quite early in the afternoon.  As during most major holidays, the Forest Hill Cemetery had more visitors than usual, but by this time most had come and gone since the gate would be closed within the hour.  Scotty walked on his own with a bouquet of flowers in hand, passing between rows of headstones, looking for that of Gladys Presley.  He had visited her grave site once before but it was hard to remember the exact location, because most of the tombstones looked indistinguishable from a few yards away. 

A chilly winter breeze blew by, Scotty shivered slightly, and his heart was filled with melancholy.  He recalled how he had promised to visit Gladys’ grave with Elvis, how he had consoled the devastated young man and held him tight.  Barely a month or two later Scotty lost Elvis forever during the battle of the Salween Gorge.  The young pilot’s body was never found.  Scotty held out hope that his lover had somehow survived the plane crash, but eventually had to accept the heartbreaking reality that his sweet baby would never come back to him again.  The American Volunteer Group disbanded in July and Scotty returned to his hometown as a celebrated flying ace and war hero.  He tried to start a country band again, but his heart wasn’t in it.  It seemed no singer’s voice could ever measure up to that amazingly dynamic and passionate baritone that had been ingrained in Scotty’s brain.  The guitarist started to drink excessively and fell into a funk.  That was when a new and improved MaryAnn moved back into the picture.  More mature and understanding, the blonde provided Scotty with much-needed empathy and encouragement exactly at the right time.  She was even able to rise above past grievances and commiserate with Scotty regarding his tragic loss.  Eventually MaryAnn’s benevolence and sincerity pulled Scotty out of depression and convince him that she still loved him despite everything.  Since the previous termination of their engagement was never announced to anyone other than immediate families, who were more than happy to see the protagonists reconciliate, everything moved along very quickly, and a modest wartime wedding was held in October.  Just a couple of weeks ago, the new family welcomed the joyous news of a baby on the way.  Concurrently, Scotty made a big career move as well, accepting a job as a studio musician in Nashville, while getting his foot in the door of music production.

Yet despite all the positive progress he had made in his personal and professional life in the last few dizzying months, Scotty could never truly let go of the memory of his lost love.  In the back of his mind, he couldn’t ignore the guilt for falling back in with MaryAnn so fast after Elvis had lost his life trying to save him.  But Scotty consoled himself with the thought that Elvis’ spirit would have wanted him to walk out of darkness and find new purpose and happiness in life without delay.  Elvis’ family hadn’t made a tombstone for him yet, understandably still not ready to fully accept their child had died so young.  But it went without saying that his final resting place would eventually be right here in Forest Hill next to his Mama.  Therefore, Scotty felt that he needed to come here to say goodbye to Elvis before he would move to Nashville later in the month. 

As Scotty arrived at his destination, it was clear that he wasn’t the only visitor of Mrs. Presley’s grave today.   Two fresh-looking flower arrangements made from white and pink rose buds adorned the sides of the headstone.  It also appeared the previous mourner had cleaned the tombstone and pulled out any weed in the surrounding area.  This was not exactly unexpected for Scotty, since he knew New Year’s Day was a popular time for family members to visit the graves of their loved ones.  However, as he set down his bouquet which was a mix of tulips and irises, something more unusual happened:  He heard a guitar strumming not far away.  The sound wasn’t loud but certainly attracted the attention of the musician’s highly attuned ears.   

At first Scotty couldn’t make out any particular melody or style, as the guitar chords sounded a little chaotic.  After a brief pause, the player started strumming again, even humming along.  Soon he launched into the intro of a slow ballad, and Scotty froze the moment that first line hit him.  He thought his ears were playing tricks on him.  This was exactly the voice that haunted his dreams, the one that he could never forget.  “Elvis!!” Scotty screamed in his mind, but he held it in as he was pulled towards the direction of the magnetic singing voice. 

Are you lonesome tonight? Do you miss me tonight? Are you sorry we drifted apart? Does your memory stray to a bright summer day When I kissed you and called you sweetheart? Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare? Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there? Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again? Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

Scotty’s heart just about jumped out of his chest as he approached the lone figure who brought forth this achingly beautiful rendition.  The young man sat with his acoustic guitar under a tall oak tree overlooking this corner of the cemetery, fully immersed in his sentimental crooning.  Even from the back, Scotty could recognize that lustrous head of chestnut hair with golden highlights.  Still in shock and disbelief, Scotty finally called out: “Elvis, is that really you?? How are you still alive?!” 

The strumming halted abruptly at the sound of his voice, none other than Memphis Flash turned his head, looking back at his love with a million mixed emotions in his cerulean eyes.  “Scotty…I thought I would never see you again…I wrote you twice while waiting to fly back from Kunming, but never got no reply.  I arrived just in time for Christmas, but my Christmas gift was finding out you were now a married man.  I…I couldn’t bring myself to see you again.  I assume you were avoiding me…”

“No!” Scotty interrupted Elvis’ babble and grabbed his hands.  “I never got any letter!!  MaryAnn’s gonna have to answer a whole lot of questions about this!!”  Upon closer inspection of Elvis’ face, Scotty could see the last seven months had left discernible marks there, and it wasn’t just maturity that made his features more angular and refined.  In place of youthful ebullience and innocence, there was now a paradoxical mixture of vulnerability and tenacity.  “Looks like you’ve been through a lot, sweetheart.  It figures since you were left behind in a war zone on your own.  Tell me, how did ya even make it out?”  Scotty asked with concern, cupping the young man’s cheeks.

For Elvis, this scene brought back memories of when Scotty consoled him after his Mama had passed away.  The guitarist with the steely blue eyes always seemed to be the one he could confide to, whether in dream or reality.  Although circumstances had played a cruel joke on them and their relationship could never go back to the same, the soul connection they had built remained deep and special.  So Elvis recounted his story as he packed up his guitar and the reunited pair walked out of the cemetery together in the setting sun.

Characteristically, Elvis brushed over many of the harrowing details of his POW experience in Burma, not wanting to upset Scotty too much.  However, the way Scotty looked back at him was so poignant, it felt like the guitarist somehow already knew everything.  As they now stood next to Elvis’ old Lincoln in the parking lot, Scotty just enveloped him in a firm embrace all of a sudden: “Oh dear Elvis, you’ve really been to hell and back, I’m so sorry you had to go through so much!  I feel like scum for not being able to protect you from harm like I had promised!”

It felt so safe and warm to be in Scotty’s arms Elvis wished time would stand still, but then rationality took over and he forced himself to pull out from the hug: “Scotty, I don’t want you to feel guilty at all.  I crossed the ocean and went straight into war in Asia by my own free will.  I was willing to die for you and almost did.  This was all because I love you.  A couple of times, when my life was on a thread, I prayed to God he would keep you safe and worry-free, even if you had to forget about everything between us.   When I didn’t get any replies for my letters before my return, I already mentally prepared myself that you might have moved on with your life.  Even so, my emotions got the best of me when my suspicion became a reality.  It didn’t help that Daddy already started going out with a woman named Dee when Mama had only been gone for less than a year.  It made me feel disillusioned about love and family.  I felt alone even at home, so I came to visit Mama every day, talking and singing to her and to myself.  But don’t worry, now I’ve sorted everything out in my head.  I should be happy for you and MaryAnn.  After all, you had known her even before you met me.  I should not be selfish because you deserve to have family and kids and we have no real future together anyway.  So I’ve bought a one-way ticket to California, where I’ll work as a truck driver or take whatever other job I can find.  When I save enough money, I hope to go to acting school and pursue a career in film.  I’m glad you are here today, Scotty, so I can say goodbye to you in person.” 

Surprised by how independent and resolute his young partner sounded, Scotty nevertheless tried to change his mind: “Dear, I know you are mad at me and justifiably so.  In my devastation from losing you right in front of my eyes during the war, l was shell-shocked and just wanted to quickly form a family to restore a sense of security and stability again.  I was trying to hide from haunting memories of you.  MaryAnn was at the right place and right time, so she took advantage of that.  Now I realize my decision was so foolish and rash and I kick myself for rushing into it.  I know my love for you can never be replaced.  My heart aches terribly when I hear about what you’ve suffered through, even worse when I’m reminded it was my fault.  I came to Mrs. Presley’s grave to say goodbye because I thought your spirit would be hanging around here, I accepted an offer to be a session player in Nashville and would soon get to try my hand at being a producer.  But the moment I heard your voice again I knew I wanted my Blue Moon boy back more than anything in the world.  I miss all your gentle smiles and loving kisses, I miss your brilliant singing and charismatic performances, I miss our chemistry on and off the stage.  We fit together like a glove, Darlin’.  Now that God gives me another chance, I’ll never let you go.  I know you are not ready for things to go back to how it was in the past, but won’t you come with me to Nashville?  You can have another crack at your ambition as a recording artist and I can be your producer.  I swear I’ll make sure MaryAnn does not get in the way.” 

Elvis was on the verge of breaking down as his one and only pleaded for him to stay and revive their romance.  He had never seen Scotty lost his cool like this before.  He closed his eyes for a few seconds, clearing his thoughts and steeling himself, then reopened them and replied: “Scotty, you know I’m willing to do almost anything for you.  But I don’t want to be the one to wreck your marriage and new family, otherwise I’ll be a real hypocrite.  Besides, I need a break from relationships right now.  Physical wounds may heal in time, but psychological scars stay longer.  I’m pretty sure I’m mentally unfit to be anyone’s boyfriend at this time.  I have so many nightmares and flashbacks it’s not even funny.  Maybe this is God’s way of telling me to refocus my energy on things other than love and romance.  Or maybe it’s just a part of growing up that was accelerated during war.  At the very least, I need time and space to reflect and heal in solitude.  Just six months ago, I’d never imagine what I’m telling you now, Scotty.  I hope you can see my point of view and understand my need to strike out on my own, it’s a difficult step but better for the both of us.  I treasure everything we’ve shared together, and it pains me to ask this of you, but will you please let me go?”

The star-crossed lovers were now looking at each other with tears streaming down their cheeks.  Sometimes communication required no words, Scotty knew then that any further attempt at persuasion would be futile.  He wiped away the tears and simply conceded: “Alright darlin’, I know I have no one else to blame, and I’m glad you’ve grown into an adult with a mind of your own.  But if I’m allowed one last request, can I ask for a goodbye kiss?” 

At the sound of that Elvis realized it was what he wanted too.  A little tender gesture for the road would do his mind and body some good, even as a parting gift from his significant other.  So he agreed with a nod, and in the afterglow of the fading sunset Memphis Flash and Guitar Slinger shared a long and passionate kiss in the backseat of the car in the empty parking lot.  It started out gentle and chaste, but quickly became more fervent.  Elvis’ sweet and plump lips felt exactly like how they were the very first time Scotty tasted them.  The delicate way Scotty held Elvis’ jaw and stroked his wavy hair was also how it had always been.  For a short while, the pair of flying aces were back in their private little bubble, safe, cozy and familiar.  However, no matter how much both of them wanted to prolong and savor this moment, the nostalgia had to end somehow. 

As Elvis finally pulled away from their entanglement, his eyes caught sight of a clover-shaped pendant hanging from a silver necklace around Scotty’s neck.  It was previously obscured by the guitarist’s neckline, but now clearly visible after a shirt button had popped open during the hands-on kissing session.  “I thought you said it was just silly and you’d never wear it!”  Elvis picked up the pendant, turned it over, opened the hidden locket, revealing a lock of his own soft and silky hair.  “I used to think that way, but after what happened at Salween gorge, I realized I was the silly one.  This was the only thing you left me, it made me feel connected to you no matter how far we were apart, even if you were not in this world.  So I proudly wore it around my neck ever since as a symbol of my undying love for you.  MaryAnn does not know the significance of this pendant, but in my heart it’s more important than my wedding ring.”

Elvis was visibly shaken by Scotty’s confession, why did God have to make his every decision so tough and conflicted?  He lost his own set of this love token when he fell into enemy hands, where almost everything he had was severely compromised, including health, dignity, sanity, faith in humanity and at times the will to live.  Those carefree days before the war seemed like such distant memories, the lost innocence could never be restored.  It would be pointless to wallow in sentimentality or self-pity, the best Elvis could do would be to look ahead and go on with his life.

With that thought, the young man gave Scotty a final hug accompanied with a simple and heartfelt promise “You’ll always be on my mind”, then waved farewell to the love of his life.  As the Blue Moon Boys bandleader walked over to his own vehicle on the other side of the lot and drove off into the dusk, a pair of tearful sapphire eyes followed him all the way as far as the visibility would allow.  The frigid westerly wind swept through the barren tree branches, where only a few months later tree buds would sprout and flowers would bloom to announce the return of spring.  This was the end of a chapter in life, and very well might be the beginning of another.  What would follow, only time could tell.

The End

[minseologs]

people’s will pt. 2

— Female, around early 30s found in Incheon pier and no identification. Found with multiple lacerations. Patient currently unconscious. Deformity noted on left clavicle and bullet wound on right upper thigh. Current vital signs: blood pressure 60/48, pulse 50, respiration 15, skin is pale and cold. Treatments: spinal motion restriction and BVM in place per BLS protocol. Requesting immediate trauma surgery. ETA 3 minutes. —

-

“I had a feeling she always knew the severity of her status being in danger,” Her lawyer piles all the paperwork she had taken care of following the process Minseo had left incase she had passed suddenly. She looks at the police officers with a stern look. “She never really mentioned anyone specific coming to get her or the fact that I just didn’t think it’ll be this soon.”

“Would you say were the contents of the will suspicious? Perhaps any major changes that we could speak to about?”

“That information is confidential, however I’d suggest going through everyone she knows. After all we can never be too safe.”

In the wake of Minseo’s attack, many people have found the events out of character but not out of place. In the family’s history, they can recall times where they’ve been in danger even before her existence as they’re placed in high security due to their status with in the business world. It also doesn’t stop the rumors to fly around as fast as it could. One by one, investigators have looked into what suspicious events have led up to the point of today, from friendships to employers— they were all suspects.

-

“It’s been noted that you frequently visited her home for days— some months ago,” the notepad of the officer sat close with possible leads. Xian’s eyes were nonchalant as he nods. “What were you doing there?”

“House sitting.” He was relaxed. Only curious about the other’s scribbling. “She went out of the country for vacation. In Switzerland. She has pictures.”

“Was she traveling or meetings anyone, you think?”

“Not that I know of. She told me it was a vacation.” Xian’s shoulder shrug, though his face didn’t show, he was worried about Minseo’s state knowing he could be where she was instead of waiting for a green light to see her. “Why can't we see her?”

The officers look at him with a dismayed feel, but understanding that the secretive nature of the case placed a toll in others.

“For your own safety as well, perhaps you should avoid her for the time being..."

-

“You were the last message from Minseo,” Bohyun was tense. He’s never been interviewed for information like this, let alone for someone he knew. He was away from all the events as the unexpected phone call is making him plan for the worst. “Before she was taken from her walk.”

“I swear we didn’t really talk about anything—“

“You left a mesage after announcing you didn’t want to speak before hand,” the officer turns back to his notes. “Then a voicemail asking about her conditions. Did you and Minseo have conflict recently? Some eyewitnesses saw you in company grounds arguing before.”

“That was a long time ago— and No.” He was stern, taking a deep breath and huffs out. “We have disagreements as friends. Like all friends do…”

-

His brows furrowed at the folder that was slid from across the table. Minseo’s lawyer following the protocols she was given once more, but Wenhan refused to accept. She counted him as next of kin, giving in to consideration of Minseo's wishes.

“You’re the first person to know—“

“She’s not dead,” he attempts to keep it all in, but his body language had already spoken for him. Tense and irritated. “You give a will when someone is dead— she’s not dead. She’s alive, I know that much. because I didn't see it myself.”

The woman sighs. He was correct, but also wanted to relay information that he needed to get ready “just incase”.

“You’re a possible person of interest, you know.” She mentions with little hesitation. “I believe it could help if you see what’s inside that. You refusing to comment or even give anything is already suspicious. Not to mention the nature of your relationship could be used against you. Neither engaged, married, even together? As far as the investigators think you are just a frequent visitor here.”

“I don’t need to if I don’t want to. They have nothing to prove.” His gaze land at the guards nearby, but it felt as though he wanted to flee from everyone’s stare. “Tell me how she is if you don’t grant me access to see her. How it is. Don’t bullshit me. You owe me that at least.”

“She was found at the docks the family owns. You are one of the people that know that place.” She begins, complying with his request. Wenhan’s irritation turns to a headache, closing his eyes at the thought. “She was shot on her thigh, suffering from a broken collarbone— internal bleeding in her torso. She was found with cuts in her body. Her face is unrecognizable at the moment since the bruises and inflammation are starting. Currently in a state of prolonged unconsciousness but they'll announce the official protocol for a coma if she doesn't wake up by two days; but I’m not sure if she’s making any progress last time I checked so I need you to cooperate because you are the successor she named. For everything domestic concerning about the two of you.”

"If it concerns everything domestic about us, you would let me be where she is," He was still for a moment, not even bearing a thought into thinking if Minseo really did place everything in his hands after he had walked away from his own family's pressure to be the heir, it can't be. The quietness made the woman uneasy. She could only assume what he thought. "It doesn't make sense."

“Fine, I can give supervised meet—“

Wenhan stands abruptly, requesting for a key to get a car ready. He made a quick decision to be there immediately, and the lawyer had no choice but to follow just as fast. To this point on, it was him they had to follow orders from.

-

“She’s alive—“ his lung takes a deep inhale of the cigarette between his hands, looking over his face from the damage she received from Minseo that night. "We can kill her in the hospital. That's fucking easy."

"She's on high watch, let alone they document everyone and everything around her," the woman paces around the rest of the board, looking grim at the thought Minseo will be well enough to name them as the attackers. "I'm gonna leave the fucking country-"

"They're going to come for all of us if our story doesn't line up," the nervousness in the man's voice was grim. "We have to think of something so they don't come closer... I already heard someone is speaking for her so we need to line everything-"

"It's over-"

"You can't just assume other people aren't helping-"

"Do you know how dangerous her family is?!"

"ENOUGH!"

Perhaps it was for the best that they continue to mask the ideology that one of them could run the company next, but the looming threat of being outed as the five that attempted to kill an heiress was also bad. These directors have been with the family even before the daughters could talk, they also knew how vengeful they could get. It was proven after seeing the operation from the inside. They were like experimental rats, waiting to see how they could resolved a botched way out.

"We will give our alibis. Until then, no one backs out, and no one talks to anyone else. Especially those who know her well.."

[crabwithaknife-art]

i won at blood pressure the other day

[jarofstyles]

138 !!!! with best friend harry

SPICY SPICY

______

“Were you just…. Masturbating?”

Harry’s face was flushed. Skin glowy and he was hidden haphazardly under the covers. She hadn’t knocked, having never knocked, but he must have heard her footsteps as she walked up.

Now… anyone with manners or common decency wouldn’t have mentioned it. No, they’d either excuse themselves or move on. But Y/N didn’t have good boundaries when it came to Harry, and she was a curious little thing. Too curious for her own good.

“Christ. Y’can’t knock and y’dont have a filter to save your life.” He rolled his eyes in disbelief, groaning as he hid his eyes under his arm. I didn’t help that the subject of the fantasies he had been rudely pulled from had walked in, not naked and not bouncing on his thick cock. It was rude, if you asked him.

“Oh, hush.” She giggled, laughing harder as Harry scrambled back as she crawled up on the bed with him.

“Oi! What the fuck are y’doin, love?” He laughed nervously, cock still pulsing under the covers. Y/N was fearless and he knew that, but they’d never gotten this close. Sure, they spoke about sex and were close physically but this was…. Something else entirely.

“Relax, H. M’just getting comfortable. You don’t have to stop on my account.” She actually was nervous. Heart beating fast. But it was the best idea she had. She needed to get over this hurdle. And she was so curious about it, she needed to see him. If he was comfortable… she would want it.

“Y’want…. You want to watch?” He said slowly, trying to understand. His cock throbbed in betrayal of his confusion, aching to be touched again.

“Mhm. If you’re okay with that, though.” She leaned in next to him and placed her cheek against his shoulder. “I haven’t seen a guy do it. And I’ve always wanted to see yours. Y’act like it’s big.” She laughed, eyes curiously peeking at the bulge under the covers.

“Uh… okay. It won’t be weird?” He asked again, making sure she wouldn’t be weirded out. Of course it had been his idea, and he had been close to orgasm so he was eager to get back into the groove of it. The idea of her watching made him even more horny, but again… he was cautious.

“Mhm, it’ll be fine, H. You’re being silly.Let’s see.” She urged, stroking her fingers over his arm. Comforting to her, arousing to him. She listened to him take a breath, and slowly lowered the comforter back down.

Her eyes widened. It was… big. Bigger than she had ever experienced. And it was…. It was hot. Thick, red tip glistening, her mouth watered a bit as she wondered how the precum dripping from the slit would taste like. Or how it would feel to have it throbbing against her tongue as she stroked it.

It wasn’t the first time she had these thoughts. But the first time truly seeing what she would be working with.

“Wow…” her breath voice went straight to his stomach. “You’ve got a right to be cocky.” He wrapped his hand around it after those words, squeezing himself at the base. It was so nice to have her looking at him. A breathless laugh left him as he shook his head.

“Thanks, petal.” He murmured. His best friend watched as he gave himself a few strokes, lulling his head back. Her cheek pressed against his bicep, watching intently as his thumb rubbed over the slit. He hadn’t expected her to speak, though.

“How’s it feel?” She whispered, stroking over the back of his wrist. The hand was free, and she was touchy. “Is it good?” Her face tilted up to look at him.

“Feels really good, yeah.” He licked his lip, breathing getting heavier. “Was at a good place when y’came in.” He laughed. The strokes were slow and steady, her eyes going back to the length. Her thighs clenched together, imagining how good that much cock would feel filling her up.

“M’sorry.” She whispered. “I’ll help.” He was shocked when he watched her lean up, bending close to his length and pursing her lips. He gasped when a string of spit dropped down, dripping on to the tip and over to meet his fingers. He nearly whimpered, the idea of her spit coating him a lot to process.

“Oh, fuck.” He cursed, throwing his head back when she did it again. This time using her hand to brush the hair out of her face and giving him a clear view of the saliva dripping from her lip and stringing from her bottom lip to the tip of his cock. “My god, Y/N.” He whined, lifting his hand up and breaking the spit from her bottom lip.

She laid back down, chest throbbing in time with the beat between her leg. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt you.” She licked her still wet bottom lip, watching his fist stroke faster now. “It looks…. Really nice.”

Her words were hesitant but he could hear the genuine tone. And the bit of arousal, at least he hoped Thats what it was. Testing his luck, he spoke back.

“Yeah? Y’like watching me get off, petal?” He asked, turning his face to look at her. Her eyes glued to his cock, dark. Legs clenched together, her hand holding his wrist while the other strokes up and down. The new slick and wet sound her spit had added to the strokes only added to his new arousal.

“Uh huh…” she was breathless, nuzzling her cheek against his arm. Suddenly shy, she was aroused and wet, but so focused on the filthy sight in front of her she could barely move.

“Didn’t know you were dirty like that.” He spoke quietly. Waiting. The little shift she did and slight tiny whimper cluing him in to knowing that this was effecting her just as much. “Do ya’ think you could do me a favor?”

Pushing the limits. He knew it. But he was so beyond horny, so hard and aching and she was giving him all of this beautiful material… he couldn’t help but push for more and more and more. It was her idea, after all.

“Yeah. Yah- I can.” She whispered with wide eyes. His hand was working himself steadily and she was doing her best to not show how worked up she was. But she couldn’t help it.

“Kay…. Can y’dip those fingers in between your legs…. N’lemme taste?” He breathed. “Don’t have to if y’dont want to. Promise. Just…. Want to taste it. I just sent t’taste it, M’not gonna last long, sweetheart.” He pleaded. Needing to taste her and see if what he imagined was what she was.

Y/N nodded, her own breathing picking up as she snuck her fingers under the band of her lounge shorts. A soft moan left her throat, guiding the fingers up her soaked slit and bumping over her clit. The image of her hand in her pants and her little noise made his orgasm approach sooner, a simple Christ spilling from his lips as he watched.

“Are you wet?” His voice was a deep, dark tone she hadn’t ever heard before. Her head tilted back and her glazed over eyes met his as she nodded, hips chasing her hand as she stroked over her swollen, needy clit again and circled a few times. “Good girl. Let me have my taste.” His words weren’t a suggestion anymore, and it only made her even more eager.

Tugging her fingers out, his spare hand guided her wrist to his mouth and immediately, he brought them between his lips. Closing them around the smaller digits, the sweet, tangy taste of her cunt coating his tongue as he dragged it between the two. It was even. Better than he imagined, a dark moan escaping his chest as he stroked himself harder. Thrusting into his hand, he sucked her fingers clean, Every single digit, even brushing his tongue over her palm to get any he missed.

“Fucking sweet. Fuck, M’gonna cum.” He panted. “Gonna cum with that taste all over my fucking tongue. You’re unreal.” He slurred, mouth dropping open as she took her hand that was slick with his spit and her taste, knocking his own hand off. The confidence swelled in her at his reaction to how she tasted, wrapping her smaller fist around him.

“Go ahead. Fuck my hand. Cum on it.” Her lips brushed his jaw. “S’a good boy, Harry. Come on. S’so soft around you, isn’t it?” She purred, pressing her body into his side. He let out a whimper, nodding as his lips parted again.

“Yes, yes, petal. Feels so good, oh god baby… M’gonna cum.” He panted, hips thrusting into her hand she held tightly around him. “Oh, feels… shit, it’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” He babbled, dizzy with incoming orgasm.

“Go ahead. Cum. Such a pretty cock, S’a honor to have it in my hand.” Her lips puckered just a bit against his stubbly jawline. “Cum for me, Harry.” She nuzzled against him with a slight nip and he was done for.

He let out a deep groan, cock throbbing and finally going over the edge. Coating her hand and his stomach with sticky cum, he fucked his pick into her soft hand and held her wrist to him until he was too sensitive, pulling it off. His head swimming in orgasm, heat and pure bliss.

His face turned to meet her lapping his cum off her hand, humming as she did so. And that’s when Harry realized he was completely screwed. This fantasy about his best friend… wasn’t just fantasy anymore.

[that-yandere-life]

hey could you please do a yandere! where they come home to find the place empty and think that darling has escaped/ran away. when darling is found they run into Yandere's arms(Stockholm syndrome)and is crying because they were so scared but yandere isn't hearing what being said cuz their FURIOUS because they thought you were over escaping/you've been so good why did you run?its only when the kidnapper makes their presence known that it clicks that darling didn't run they were taken. Please!

[Warnings: Yandere Themes (Obviously), Murder, Kidnapping, Mentions of Blood.]

Tony-

Tony went absolutely nuts when he came home and found you gone, not even understanding how you managed it in the first place.

Sure he trusted you a lot more than he did when he first brought you home, but even then he had alerts and such put in place.

Which was exactly why he had secretly implanted a tracking device into your skin, the next morning thinking that you scratched yourself in your sleep.

Uploading the data to the suit he takes off trying to follow the dot towards your location, moving at top speed.

Anger filling his entire being the longer it took to reach you, unable to understand why you would do this to him?

Things seemed to be going so well with the two of you, quite honestly he was feeling more than a little heartbroken.

Ready to confront you when he finally reaches your location, which was a dingy old abandoned warehouse.

Landing he blasted the door off its hinges clattering to the ground with a huge thud, alerting you to his presence.

Unable to believe that he was really standing there before you, as you got up from the seat you had been told to sit in.

Running towards him as fast as you could, tears in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

Sobbing as you were more than freaked out, which he attributed to being caught red handed with running away.

Removing the suit into his nano-bracelet he looked at you with such disappointment and frustration that it made you recoil in pain.

Trying his best not to raise his voice but failing when he demanded to know why you had left him, and that he thought the two of you were past all of this kind of stuff.

Tears welled in his own eyes as he tried to fight them back, feeling betrayed by you was one of the worst things he had ever experienced.

Shaking your head furiously you didn’t get a chance to explain before a familiar voice called you back to their position.

Threatening you if you didn’t return that instant, not realizing that Tony had literally burst in his hideout.

There in the doorway leading into another part of the building was none other than Steve Rogers himself, hands on his hips looking towards you expectantly until he noticed you weren’t alone.

Growling under his breath he walks out further into the light shining in from the hole that had been created in his wake.

Blood boiling, Tony immediately activated his suit again, pushing you behind him telling you to run out the door and that he would be right after you.

Steve threw his shield with all of his might, trying to knock you off your feet but instead Tony caught it in his hand before it could reach you, tossing it across the room.

Sending several blasts back his way, Steve only narrowly avoided the hits, concrete and scrap metal flying everywhere.

Finally trapping Steve in a corner, forcefully inquiring to know how he thought that he could get away with taking what was rightfully his.

Laughing in Tony’s face he then kicked him backwards, sending him through a metal support beam, connecting to the ground.

Angrily he flew back grabbing him by the arm, this time tossing him instead through another beam, the roof starting to fall down in chunks all around them.

Getting the jump on Steve he started punching him over and over and over again until his face was nothing but a bloody pulp.

Checking his pulse after what seemed like forever waiting for him to get back up, satisfied that there was no longer a threat to you.

Quickly before the building came down with him in it, he swooped out, finding you hiding not too far away out of plain sight.

Picking you up in his arms apologizing for accusing you of leaving him, just so afraid that his worst nightmares had come true.

Unfortunately it had been even worse than he could have ever imagined, the man who was once his friend lying motionless in a pile of rubble.

Praying that you would forgive him for how he spoke to you, and for the fact that he didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.

For now, you were right back where you belong… with him.

Thor-

Thor didn’t think anything of it when he couldn’t find you right off the bat, giving you the entire palace to explore should you want.

It wasn’t like you could leave Asgard of your own volition, and he knew no one would help you in fear of his retaliation.

So he decided just to walk around and see if anyone had seen you recently in hopes of tracking you down rather quickly.

Not turning out that way when everyone he asked hadn’t seen you since the day before, meaning he had seen you more recently than anyone else.

That was when he began to feel rage bubbling up under his usual cheerful demeanor, growing incredibly short with anyone who tried to converse with him about anything other than you.

Checking all your usual spots, he still didn’t find you, which led him to believe you were no longer there.

Going immediately to Heimdall demanding to know if he could locate you, which of course he could, that was literally his thing.

Telling Thor that you were at the waterfalls a far way away from there, confusing him because how in the hell did you get there in less than a day?

Maybe there was someone who decided to disobey him and help you attempt to get away, meaning there was more than just you to punish.

Calling his hammer to his hand he shot off into the sky, heading towards you as fast as he could, riding the wind current directly there.

Approaching the waterfalls he can’t see you anywhere and there is no chance you knew he was on his way.

Remembering there used to be a giant cavern behind one of them that he and his brother used to play in when they were young.

Entering, his hair and armor soaking wet with the rapid rush of unnaturally warm water flowing down his entirety.

Hearing a voice as he followed the walkway, seeing a low level light leading his way towards you.

Turning the corner he saw you sitting on the ground in the middle of an empty space, looking around fearfully.

Something he mistook as you anxiously keeping an eye out for him, his footsteps now coming crashing towards you.

Whipping around you see Thor rushing your way, and you feel instant relief fill you, letting out a brief sigh before he ripped you to your feet harshly.

Wincing at the sudden rough contact, able to feel the emotions roll off of him in waves, almost nauseating you.

Immediately interrogating you as to what you thought you were doing?

Swearing that the two of you had long gotten past this kind of behavior, what had changed?

Practically shaking you as he awaited your answer with baited breath, hoping that you had a damn good excuse.

Opening your mouth to speak you didn’t get the opportunity as the explanation sorted itself out when Loki revealed his illusion to his brother.

Having been standing there the whole time watching as he yelled at you for something that was never in your control to begin with.

Smirking, he waved his finger at his brother in a sort of no, no, no fashion, shifting into a battle stance.

Thor readied himself, pushing you so that you were now behind him somewhat protected before his own body lit up with his great power.

Loki starts off multiplying himself, surrounding his opponent with clones of himself, the real him indistinguishable.

That mattered not to Thor as he reeled back before screaming out louder than you had ever heard him.

Thousands of bright blue lightning strikes hitting everywhere in an instant but where you were was protected by your proximity to him.

A horrific scream is heard that you can quickly tell was Loki, not sure if he was dead or just seriously injured but it could have been either with urgency of the cry.

Something told you it was the latter by the way that Thor’s breath was heaving heavily in his chest, like he was going to be sick.

Facing you his facial expressions turned from unbridled rage to guilt as he matched your eyes with his own, now back to their usual hue.

Apologizing profusely begging you for forgiveness for not thinking things through because of course you hadn’t gotten that far on your own.

Someone had to have taken you with malicious intent, and of course it had to be his own brother attempting to hurt him by using you as a pawn.

One thing he could never do, ever again he made sure of that.

Wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his chest he let a single tear fall as he kissed the top of your head.

Natasha-

Natasha had just gone out to the store long enough to pick up the items needed to make your favorite meal, remembering the smile you gave her the first time she made it for you.

Not to mention a few extra goodies she saw that she hoped you would like, mostly just new hygiene products in your choice scent.

It wasn’t often that she liked to leave you, so she would wait until the two of you had practically nothing in the house before she would go shopping again.

The last thing that she wanted to grab before getting back to you is a cute little stuffed animal, attached to a bouquet of flowers.

Wanting to really show you how much she appreciated how good things have gotten between the two of you.

Now you seemed to relish in her attention, something she was more than willing to give you at all times.

Checking out she placed most of the bags in the trunk slamming it down, before she got back in to head home to the love of her life.

Upon arriving home she carries most of the items in except for your main surprise, calling to you thinking you were just in the shower or still in bed maybe since it was kind of early.

When she didn’t hear back from you she guessed that it was the latter, putting the groceries away before going to wake you up.

Shocked when the bed she left you in was empty, as was your beautiful master bathroom, you were nowhere to be found.

Turning the entire house upside down, and the outside too just on the off chance you were in the garden.

No trace of you was left behind, not even your pajamas from the night before meaning you didn’t even change before you left.

Were you really that desperate to be rid of her that you didn’t want to take the time to put on proper clothing?

Not even entertaining the idea that you might not have walked off on your own volition, because who knew she had you anyway?

Being a spy her instincts kick into action as she begins trying to track you down, not finding any trail you might have left behind.

Each moment causing her to grow more perplexed and more enraged that you would leave her after everything you’ve been through.

It was only a matter of time until she managed to find some kind of lead, hoping that the scent hadn’t gone cold.

Reaching a barn out in the middle of the woods, not too far from the house the two of you shared.

Standing to reason that you were hiding in it for shelter from the elements and to hide from her, but no one could truly hide from her, especially you.

There were no other buildings around to indicate that this was a homestead or even a running farm for that matter.

The grass was overgrown, except where the barn door had been dragged open multiple times, pressing it down out of the way.

Growling she ripped the doors open, taking one in each hand, pushing them out as far as they would go before entering.

Towards the back of the structure she found you cowering in a wooden chair, shivering not looking up at her.

Thinking it was because you were caught she strolled over to you, tipping your chin up to look at her with her fingertips.

Instead of the fear she was imagining in your expression when you realized that it was her, it was one of pure happiness and almost relief?

Throwing your arms around her neck, squeezing her tighter than any other previous embrace, and while she would have wanted to enjoy it she was utterly upset with you.

In your ear she was asking you if you hated her, if that is why you tried to run away yet again even though you hadn’t wanted to previously.

Clearly there was hurt in her voice, as she had a long time to think of all the excuses you could possibly give her for why you did this.

Pushing you back so you were looking directly at her, her slight rejection confusing you making you try and explain.

Interrupted by an arrow whizzing past both of your heads, sinking into the wood next to you.

Natasha turned her attention, already knowing who would have fired the arrow, and that if he wanted them dead they likely would have been.

Furrowing her eyebrows it clicked as she looked back and forth between the two of you that Clint had taken you from her.

That’s why you hadn’t changed, that’s why you were happy to see her, and it truly was relief at her presence.

Whispering for you to duck down behind the stall that was near the chair, she twisted her hips stalking towards her former best friend.

Dodging arrows the best she could, hesitating only for a second when she got close, causing one to get sunk into her shoulder.

Cursing under her breath she used her tasers to incapacitate him, kicking the bow out of his frozen hands.

Pulling out her pistols she started firing into his limp body, until both of the clips were completely empty.

No longer recognizable by any sense of the word, she shielded your eyes as she led you past him just happy you were safe.

Breaking off the stick of the arrow in her shoulder, deciding to patch it up when you got home.

Apologizing softly as she started leading the way back to the car, holding your hand in her own, rubbing softly her thumb softly against you.

She got you back that much was true, but it cost her everything in the end.

A price she was willing to pay a thousand times over if it meant you were safe and uninjured.

[Thank you so much for this idea! It was really interesting to think of scenarios for it! If you guys want a part two with more various characters let me know who you want to see! <3]

[mammons-best-boi]

I really really love your works! Can you please do Lucifer and Mammon with prompt 23? Thanh you so much and have a nice day<333

23. "How do I make you love me again?"

Mammon had finally had enough.

Ever since his human had been sent back, he hadn't done anything but exist in his room, go down for meals, and go to RAD. But his brothers never stopped nagging and accusing and blaming him for everything that went missing! Even things that he'd never been blamed for before, like someone's food going missing.

That day, Lucifer finally found Mammon's breaking point.

"I can't believe you!" Lucifer yelled as he barged into Mammon's room, the door almost coming off of the hinges.

Disoriented, Mammon rolls over to face Lucifer, his skin sickly and alarmingly pale. But Lucifer takes no notice as he launches into berating Mammon.

"Those cufflinks were a gift from Barbatos! I can't believe that you would stoop so low as to take them! Though, I shouldn't be surprised. All scum like you think about is money."

"whatcha talkin bout?" Mammon slurs, his voice low and tired.

"Can you not even listen anymore?!" Lucifer growls and marches up to Mammon's bed and pulls him from it. "You are going to get back my cufflinks even if it forces you into a pact. Do you understand me!?"

"I didn't take your crummy things! I haven't left my room if you hadn't noticed!" Mammon yells in his own defense. "I haven't taken anything since Mc left! Don't believe me? Take a look!"

Mammon twists and shows Lucifer the mark of his sin, an angry red, almost visibly pulsing, and obviously infected and very painful.

Lucifer is shocked, almost flinching at the sight. No one's sin mark has ever gotten this bad before, at least, not that he knows of.

"This' what happens when I go 4 months without taking anything! But you all seem to think I've been taking everything in the house!" Mammon adjusts his pajamas and walks to the head of his bed.

"Do ya know how- Actually, nevermind. Ya wouldn't know. You never let anything damage that fucking pride of yours." He gets back into bed. "Leave me alone. I don't got any of your crud, so you can't punish me for nothing."

After this incident, Lucifer put Mammon under surveillance, but didn't tell the others why.

Mammon knew he was being watched, but didn't really care. They'd just find him sooner. Mammon knew that not indulging his sin even slightly would cause him to whither away, not that his brothers cared.

It took five days before Mammon missed a meal. Lucifer was notified and immediately left his meeting with a quick apology, and flew as fast as he could back to the HOL.

The others were eating like nothing was happening, and even though Lucifer knew that they didn't know it angered him to see that no one cared that Mammon was missing.

He ignored them as he walked as quickly as he could all the way to Mammon's room. He didn't even bother to knock before busting into the room.

The room smelled deceptively clean, even though it looked the part.

Lucifer dashed up the stairs, almost tripping in his haste to get to Mammon. Lucifer pulls him out of bed, startling Mammon.

"Fuck do you think I did now!" He yelps out as Lucifer grabs his shoulders, his grip harsh in his worry.

They stay there for a moment, Mammon confused and upset while Lucifer is relieved. Lucifer's the one to break the moment, pulling mammon into a tight hug.

Mammon starts tearing up. "At least we're also graced with a kind vision before we die too." He laughs emptily. "Never thought this would be the way I go."

Lucifer's shocked silent, watching his favorite brother come to terms with his own death. "You're not dieing, Mammon." He blurts out, unsure if he's trying to convince himself or just stating a fact.

"I hafta be. You'd never do this, at least not anymore. Ya hate me, have ever since we fell. At least before, you actually loved me." Mammon slowly shifts into his demon form as he talks.

His wings are tatered and full of little holes, the base looked like it was trying to sprout little white feathers again.

"I do love you, Mammon!" Lucifer cries into Mammon's shoulder, knowing that Mammon's in danger of dieing. "How can I make you love me again?" Lucifer practically begs, misunderstanding.

Mammon laughs coldly. "That's the thing Luci, I never stopped."

Mammon's sin mark bursts and his wings catch fire, burning a holy white that Lucifer hadn't seen in eons.

The others burst in, feeling the blast of holy magic.

Lucifer is forced away from Mammon as the holy fire engulfs him, burning away his horns and pacts.

Diavolo arrives just in time to see a blast of holy light come from Mammon's room and a beam of light shine directly through the roof above it.

Diavolo dashes into the HOL and up to Mammon's room, only to come to a screeching halt in the doorway.

Mammon's body, partly transformed back into an angel, lay on his bed, a small halo rested, leaning against his head, as blood seeped from the wounds where his horns used to be. His wings partially covered in brilliant white feathers that gave way to torn and bleeding wings.

Diavolo quickly observed the rest of the room, seeing the remaining brothers in various states of shock and anguish. He let his demon for drop when his eyes landed on the sobbing Lucifer.

He knew that there would have to be consequences, but he could comfort his friend first.

[muffindaddystyles]

OMG I LOVE DOM H THATS INLY SOFT FOR HIS SUB BUT WHEN THEIR BRATTY HE GOES FULL DOM MODE

MELTS AND BOILS OUT OF HORNINESS

Y/N was more of cuddly and clingy tonight.

Wanting nothing but to hide herself in Harry’s chest pawing at his well-built hips with a huff through her nose to be more closer to him, all of it because of his sweet praising for her's while he took her pictures in his phone before leaving for this party he wanted her to be his date— maybe a simple companion she doesn’t know yet where they stand.

She looked too angelic in a baby pink satin slip dress for him not to smother her face in careful dotting kisses and grumbled in feign offend when she pushed him away with her small hand and giggled shyly.

“Y'gonna say no to daddy, Angel?” His daunting tut, blew her pupils into surprise and she rolled her eyes and went to swat his bicep, while her lower abdomen sparkled and tingled with excitement and delight. He likes to play all sweet and precious, but underneath that tentative and “’M putty in my Angels palm,” gooey exterior’s a wicked, mischievous little sneak and satan who likes to see her suffer, basking in the sputtery and fiddly reactions of hers.

Especially in public. Oh he loves it, when he’s intentionally grazing his warm lips against her earlobe to whisper how she’s so good for daddy, darting his tongue out to wet his lips and tease her. He liked taking her out on expensive fancy restaurants and be a filthy prat with his words without a shame making her knees knock into tables, gets her all warm and pink with his little plays like kissing her fingertips one by one and slipping them slowly into his mouth, kissing the dribbles of ice-cream from her chin and murmur hotly against her cupid bow, “Hmm. Your peach’s sweeter, moppet.” to feel her squeeze onto his hand that holds her all the time, always having a hand on the small of her back and raking it impossibly low only to get her all squirmy and bashful for him, barking out a laugh when she squeals for he slip it inside her bottoms and snapped them playfully.

He loves to rouse her and make her dip into the haziness, then has an audacity to sharpen a finger at her and grunt at her, “Behave.” When she copied his vicious actions back.

Saying this, he was back to chatting his friends and call Y/N bratty how much you want but the impulsive yearn that was bubbling in her tummy skunked over with jealousy, so she chose the better option. To infuriate and arouse him with her risky little play-tactics, in hope he might drag her away and push her into the nearest washroom and tell her to suck onto daddy’s cock— then swat her hands away harshly and fuck her little watery mouth himself.

So. When she tried to be as sly as possible pretending to drop something on the ground and then bent to have her ass, clad in silk lacies peeking for him teasingly. Harry noticeably gets a bit disgruntled, adjusting himself in trousers and shifting to yank her back to pull her against his chest with a displeased frown.

This time he didn’t tell her to behave making her pout awfully whiny up at him and getting her even more frustrated by smiling down at her as if nothing happened.

Though, the smile’s one of the sinister pressed jaw bbreakin-ly to stop him from gritting his teeth and land a hard stingy slap to her bum right infront of everyone.

Y/N stomps her feet which indeed gains his attention but he chooses to ignore it, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her closer to his side without even sparing a glance down at her.

Alas. Y/N has waved white flags of defeat considering no-amount of teasing and battiness would break his resolve – one the many things she’s envious of him in their little escapade of naughtiness, is Harry got a hellish of self-control, no wonder that’s one of the reasons he’s her dom.

“Where y'going?” He asks through a smile that was gleamed at his childhood bestfriend and not Y/N, she gulps down the lump of bitterness down her throat–- tone high-pitched in her mumble from the unbelievable achiness between her thighs and all she wants to do’s claim him hers, with deep red bites at his sweet pulse and the front of his throat’s bump.

She has no-idea in the flying fuck, what she’s stammering about, “Ni. Ma–. . . maybe he’ll be a better dom than you.” Ouch. Harry’s veins boils with spleen and indescribable outrage, his face sculptures into a fierce indignation–- out of his realization staring down at her blankly.

For a moment though Y/N feels an immense guilt pour down her head like cold icy water, cause all he’s been to her is sweet and caring telling her how precious she’s for him and how he’s gonna make love to her once they come back home.

She tends to say rubbish in her floatiness but never she has ever doubted him and her eyes gets all swimy, hands rushing up to cradle his face not caring if there’s a gathering around them – though she retreats when he doesn’t let her and to play nice with him has become a none to never option, atleast for tonight when he sets his eyes back on his friend, Y/N’s shoulders slump and shrugs; her head perks up immediately after when he’s bidding them byes and her inners fill with excitement and anticipation to just go home.

. . .

Her panties pools with arousal when he spreads his thighs apart, patting his meaty flesh with a skewered annoyance, “On daddy’s lap, bum out,” With gleeful little nod she’s stumbling her way towards him and he’s not pawing at her hips to lay her down and shove her face into the mattress, keeping his hands to himself quite for a moment before pondering if it’s the right punishment seeing how her panties are already twisted, she shrinks into herself at his cold demeanour wiggling a little to adjust.

Don’t get her wrong. She loves having him gentle and sweet and tentative, pressed so tight she could feel each lull and thump of his heart. Feeling him crush her under his weight with each thrust of his’s overwhelming each of her pores with so much love for him—- sometimes she imagines him to be rough with her, when he grabs and holds and bite her to leave her sore and whiny next day. Pinning her thighs roughly and fucks into her so fast and hard and deep .. god so deep she feels him in her tummy and her pussy swallows down onto him wetly.

He bunches her dress up her spine, strokes her cheek lovingly, plucking at her waistband and touches the soft supple skin then realizes how and why they ended up here.

Her body relaxes into him, nuzzling her nose into his knee and thinks he changed his mind and is out of fumes, will now fuck her nice and warm until a very, disrupting startling swat to her bum makes her gasp and she jerks against his bicep that’s holding her place in now, “Tha’ hurt!” She whined, pouting even though he couldn’t see it because his hold’s firm on her and if it stung didn’t mean she wants to stop him – it’s sparking the tingles in her pit wanting for more.

“’S supposed to,” He grabs onto her hand that tries to reach behind and rub the sting away, “Knows why you’re gettin’ punished right?” He doesn’t wait for her short nod and gives another firm slap to her right cheek and she feels it jiggling under his calloused palm.

“Words!” He growls, she feels small and little in his lap and she’s loving it – knowing he’d immediately stop if she’d accentuate any discomfort, “Was mean. Teased daddy and ...” She mewls when he kneads her blushed skin and clucks his tongue at her, something so dominating and domineering about him in a way she wants to obey him and listen to him quite oddly now after so much wreck havoc—- her noise strangling inside herself out of embarrassment and utter shyness; that she hurt him.

“...and daddy doesn’t likes to be teased.” He says derisively, blunt nails scratching her thighs to raise goosebumps on her skin.

“Ought to teach ya a lesson, didn’t I? You’d be still a filthy brat if it wouldn’t hurt.” He slithers his long fingers under her chin and grabs it, makes her look up at him– giving a light slap to her parted lips when she refuses to look him in eyes.

She's puckering her spit coated lips to suck his digits in her mouth and shallow her cheeks around them, grousing when he removes them out of her reach and she melts into his palm when he gives her two more spanks one after another between her asscheeks quick and hard and rolls his thumb painfully closer to where her little hole is clenching.

Might, in other cases, he'd have cooed at her and caressed her bottom, murmuring, “Such a soft little thing,” and “Moppet y'did so good for daddy,”

“Turn over.” He elevates her with his knee, rocking her on his bulge teasingly and loops his arm around her waist to finally help her up.

The sea foam glazed eyes peering down at her with such intensity makes Y/N chase for his lips eagerly and she cries out when he backs away, “Daddy no ...” Her complain is dropping to a low whimper as Harry strokes his thumb over her bottom pouty lip, creaming her panties and pricking the balloon of exhilaration in her tummy -- she’s a bit upset he hasn’t called her pet names at all and he still thinks she’s bad and hasn’t learned her lesson.

She did! She’s good!

“Maybe if you weren’t so mean,” He cups her bum, breath hitching for a moment when she hisses, lifts her up and glides her panties down, “I would’ve eat your cute pussy out earlier.” He utters, nose burrowing in her neck when she tries to get rid of the panties to be good for him, “Perhaps only really good girls gets their peach eaten . . ‘cos they really deserve it, dunno?”

Her head bows against his chest, feeling unexpectedly too small and disheartened as she murmurs kittenishly clutching his sides and blinking up at him in desperation with glossy lashes, “’M good daddy. Aren’t I?” He let a small smile tick his dimples which went unnoticed by her, of how much haziness and subbiness she has gone under.

He sponges his lips to her collarbones, a whimper scrapes from her throat from where her hands are pressed to the seam of his slacks, while he leans back undoing his buttons.

His cock twitches and akin to it his face warm pink and happy at the noises she creates once he’s out and he grasps her wrists and tugs her forward, “I’m your good girl.” She takes a huge weepy sigh leaning herself to get his cock inside her without seeming bad— because she wants to be good and she’s needy and achy at the same time.

“Your sore and stingy bum would say otherwise, Bunny.” He grins, and a groan rattles in his chest when he swipes his fingers up her folds to inspect her and she’s dripping thickly.

“Fuck. Sucha tight pretty hole f'me.” He murmurs. Helps himself ease inside wet, tight hole and holds himself from making both of them flop back into sheets when she fits around him velvety and snug, his balls pressed to her bum.

She goes to loop her elbows around his neck to smush herself into him and to muffle any inhumane noises she’ll create-- too afraid she’d sob out for being in such a vulnerable state, rather, he hooks his fingers around her wrists securely and holds them behind her spine.

“Bounce on my cock, Bunny.” He orders and she mewls, realizing he isn’t done with her and knows she tires herself too early whilst ridding him and ends up grouching and huffing.

She complies. Feeling herself stuffier and stuffier, she soaks his cock utterly slick with each of his throb inside her and she always loves how he gets more stiff once inside her like it’s the best place he wants to be in and she gazes with hooded eyes to where she has created the slide for him easier, as her pussy squelches around him with his each buck and rough thrust.

“Aah! Ah!” She cries, nibbling onto the fading love-mark on his neck when he slips his hand between their bodies to roll her clit, “Yes, yes. Right there daddy!” He tips her chin to wrap his mouth around her swollen bitten lip and suckles on it murmuring.

“Here yeah? Is daddy’s cock nice and big, hitting your spot good, fuckin’ my baby’s spots good.”

She pouts up at him, chest heaving from all her work and he brushes her hair behind, “Apologise fo’ being naughty and you might get to cum,” She wastes no time, body stretching in arched bow with his slam of hips into her.

“I’m sorry, for being naughty and misbehaving!” She blubbers slumping onto his chest.

He pats her bum, groping it to help her fuck her cunt down his heavy prick and he whispers gutturally in her ear, “Keep going bunny. I could feel ye' pussy squeezin' me s'bloody tight.” He fucks her sloppily circling her sensitive nub twice, thrice until she’s gushing all over him in a heavenly manner thrashing in his arms and not able to screw down any moans and noises.

His own orgasm follows her. Pouring her hole with a heavy cum-load and his grip from around her wrists loosens up, falling on his sides and crinkling the sheets while he stuffs his nose into her shoulder hill thighs jerking under her.

They stay, like that for some seconds, covered in sheen and possibly eachother’s sweat— his recovery was too livid he didn’t heard soft sniffles against his cheek and his chest immediately suffocates up when he draws Y/N away to be met by her glassy drunk pink eyes, lower lip wobbling awfully sad.

“Daddy I’m sorry, I’m bad, I’m so sorry daddy —...” Her jumbled apologies gets lost into her violent sob that knocks her chest and she gasps, bursting wide pupils locked to Harry’s panicked ones and he quickly cradles her face shaking his head furiously, “No baby. You’re my good girl, me best girl.” His tone honest and loving and adoring.

“No! I hurt you ....” She trembles, hiding her face into her elbow and Harry pulls it away, he moulds both of his palms against her teary warm cheeks and lulls her face with all of the endearment he holds for her in his heart.

“I didn’t mean it daddy, promise.” She sulks, fear swimming in her eyes shattering Harry’s heart into infinite pieces and he scolds himself for it, terrified he went too harsh with her, “I know bunny. I know."

“Now come back to me, Angel. Harry misses you. Wanna have me Angel bac—...” Her babbling takes over his coaxing and she hiccups, head a mess of vivid thoughts and doubts, “I got jealous, don’t like it when you look at your friends the same way y'do to me,” He wasn’t. He could never see someone in the same light and same affection and adoration he sees his lovie, since, she was gone under the foam of dizziness too much and neglected of his attention it seemed like that to her and Harry’s beating himself for making her feel like it.

“I...I know, shouldn’t. ‘M sorry, but I love you so much daddy . . .” More tears springs and falls from her eyes. Her crying confession leaves Harry appalled and shocked, butterflies swarming in his tummy and his hands stays limp on her side before he ponders that’d make her over-think he doesn’t wants to touch her so he instantly rubs his hands up and down her arms, mouth guppies many time to stutter out something.

They hadn’t exchanged ‘I love yous' yet. He knew they’d. He wanted it be when they’d be all cuddled and he’s pecking her all where and making love to her, not when she barely knows about her presence and is too floaty to have her feet on ground.

“I love you too. I love you too, so much baby, fuck.” He presses his forehead to hers, nosing her softly and gently and then smashes his lips against hers in a deep humming kiss instead of answering when she blinks up at him startled asking, “You do,” So innocently that Harry had to kiss his love and feel the taste of sex on her mouth and suckle on her tongue to drive her mind away from deprecating herself.

“Wanna have my Angel, back. Please? Pretty please?”

“No more mad?”

“Could never be, you my baby.”

“Can I keep you inside me for sometime? I’ll be good.” She murmurs sleepily, Harry wraps his arms around her and snuggles her into his chest, “My cock’s all yours pretty girl.” He soothes her back. Waiting patiently for her breathing pattern to go back to normal.

“Thank you.” Her voice sobering up, cracking the cocoon of fog where his Y/N rests and the moment she’d be out, he’s gonna kiss her love for him out of her lips.

[ch3rrysmutt]

Mixed Feelings

Viktor woke up, taking a long deep breath, slowly recognizing his room as he sat up, rubbing his forehead. His hand touched a soft fabric that covered something, he was confused for a moment, his eyes went wide, Y/N still curled around the sheets.

He flinched taking his hand away. He took a better look at the girl, she looked so peaceful and small like that, he brushed her hair out of her face, just looking at her, taking in all the details of her face. Y/N's eyes opened slowly, as she rolled over to face the boy "Viktor?" she whispered

"Sorry, did I wake you up miss Y/N?" he asked watching her sit up slowly, she smiled listening to his cute accent "Not really." she said rubbing her eyes, holding in a yawn "You can just call me by my name. No need for formality" "Oh sure, I'm sorry..." he said looking down

"Yesterday... Did you really mean it? You'd like to go out with me?" she asked, Viktor's heart dropped as he looked up at her, looking into her bright eyes "Yes, I've..." his hand brushed his hair "I think I might have been interested in you for a little while, I don't know how long but I think yesterday seeing you in the ball, I couldn't hold myself back" he admitted bashfully

Y/N hand moved to crease his cheek, feeling him flinch "I enjoyed that you told me this" she whispered making him look at her"You're very gentle Viktor, can we meet at the docks? I'll just go home and change, we can meet there, what do you think?" Y/N asked, her hand holding his shoulder, Viktor nodded at her.

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

10 minutes have passed since Y/N had left his house, Viktor paced around his room still not sure on which outfit to pick. He figured he didn't have much time to overthink about what outfit would be more appropriate for him to wear, so he just put on his usual attire.

He stumbled as fast as he could to Piltover's docks, looking around a bit, quickly recognizing a smaller figure "Y/N!" he called out. The girl turned around, her usual serious face was now cheerful, dressed in a simple lilac dress with a green umbrella.

"Viktor!" she smiled practically running to meet him, she stopped before him "Sorry for taking so long," he said looking down at his cane, holding it tightly "It's ok, I haven't been here long" she said putting her hand over his. Viktor felt his heart skip a bit by the small gesture, but couldn't hold back a smile "Come, I've found somewhere we can eat" she smiled at him

Viktor and Y/N walked side by side, she held the umbrella up keeping them off the sun, the soft breeze was the only thing that was keeping them off of being cooked alive by the heat. After a little while being quietly walking around, Y/N finally spoke "Is it ok if I hold your hand?" she asked innocently as she held out her hand.

He took a moment to process the question, but only held her hand in response, feeling her smaller and hurt hand on his bigger and skinnier one, it was nice, making his stomach flutter. On the other side, Y/N hummed calmly, before stopping at a simple tent "Here, I think we'll find something good here" she said

Viktor looked around the small tent "I would like two cinnamon pretzels cut into pieces please" she smiled at the food seller. "On the way miss" Y/N stood quietly waiting for her order "Why did you choose this place? I mean, the docks," asked Viktor "I've noticed the boat on a bookshelf at your house, so I thought it would be a nice idea" "Oh," he said a bit surprised she had noticed anything in the short while at his home

"Here you go young couple," said the seller making the boy's face flush, Y/N took it from the seller thanking him, now both of her hands were full, she couldn't hold his hand. Viktor couldn't hope that they could return to holding hands, feeling her pulse as they held each other. "This is a good spot to sit," she said already sitting down, petting a spot beside her, that he took immediately

He took a bite of one of the cut pretzels, looking at his date beside him "It's really good" he said trying to make small talk "Yes, I'm happy you liked it" she said grabbing a piece and putting it in front of his lips so that he could take it. Viktor was a bit confused at first but eat it right away making the girl giggle.

"Y/N can I ask you something," he said fumbling his thumbs "Sure, anything," she said eating another piece "Yesterday, when I kissed you..." he looked up at her, she seemed interested in what he would ask, it looked like she was blushing at his words "What did you feel?" "I..." she started, seemingly trying to process what she would answer "I felt like you were a bit nervous, but still, I felt like I was safe... What I'm trying to say is that I have a soft spot for you..." she spat out

He smiled at her, a bit glad she said that. "I have a soft spot for you too," Viktor said, Y/N's hand held his carefully, she put the tray aside scooting closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. Everything was so quiet and calm, but inside of Viktor's head, he was truly nervous and at the same time, welcomed the new sensation.

That way he could finally lay his own head on top of the girls, he felt her move a bit, looking down, he caught her staring at him "Is there something wrong" "No it's just..." she approached him "you have gorgeous eyes, they are... enchanting..." she said calmly, holding his face.

Viktor's breath hitched, he wanted that, he wanted to feel her lips on his one more time. He felt her breath hitting his chest "Viktor!" he heard someone call. Y/N let out a frustrated groan, looking in the direction of the shout. Jayce. Why would he ruin such a perfect moment "I'll be leaving now, it was nice having a date with you Viktor" she smiled

Y/N walked quickly, soon vanishing from his sight. "I didn't think I'd see you here" smiled Jayce "Oh I wanted to try these out" he pointed at the pretzel pieces "They sure look good, but who were you with anyway?" "Oh, just a friend of mine" "Well anyway, I wanted to tell you some things I found out yesterday before you left"

Viktor couldn't care less for cheap gossip, but soon he felt a piece of paper in his pocket that he didn't recall having there before. "I'll meet you at your room" It was Y/N's writing, unmistakably messy. He felt his face burn, hoping that Jayce would shut soon so that he could go home.

♡ Biochemical Love Masterlist

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[pies-writes-and-more]

Karasuno boys when you wander away

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Dachi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane, & Kageyama Tobio, all with a Fem!Reader

Warnings: probably some swearing but nothing besides that :) 

A/N: So this is somewhat based on my IRL relationship haha. I’m very bad with just walking away or getting distracted by something and always worry my partner xD thought it would make for some cute headcanons! Let me know if you’d like more!

Haikyuu Masterlist

Tsukishima had only looked away for a moment. He walked towards a fresh fruit stand, glancing at the peaches and wondering if you wanted one to snack on on the way home. He glanced back and his lips parted to ask you, but you were no where to be seen.

His lips turned into a frown, trying not to give into that small moment of panic as his eyes scanned the outside market. You were no where to be found nearby. His heart pulsed harder against his chest as his mind reminded him of that news story of girls going missing in public places. Tsukishima pushed through people, giving half-assed apologies as he thought about you being dragged away and no one noticing. How had he not noticed? How would he find you? What should he do now?

His heart raced as he continued to look for you, giving out a small yelp when he felt someone grab his hand.

“Tsukki?” You were suddenly next to him, smiling innocently up at him. “Are you okay?”

The rush of relief that came with seeing you next to him was followed with frustration. “Idiot! Where did you wander off to?” He scolded, his hand tightening on yours.

“There was a puppy,” you admitted with slight embarrassment, smiling shyly. “I just gave him a couple of pats - he looked so lonely. Everyone was ignoring him,” you explained, nodding towards an older man who was dozing off on a bench. He had a leash in his hand and a large dog sat next to his feet, eagerly watching people was if begging for someone to pet him.

Tsukishima shook his head in disbelief, “You scared me for a dog? Moron,” he grumbled, pulling you further into the market. He didn’t want to be in such a big crowd right now.

You giggled, trying not to note the redness in his ears, “Aw I’m sorry Tsukki, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You tugged on his arm gently, trying to give him an apologetic smile but he kept looking away from you.

“Whatever, get yourself lost for all I care,” he pouted slightly and you tried your best not to laugh at how such a tall boy could act like a 4 year old.

“I’ll stay with you, promise. Won’t ever leave your side!” you insisted, clutching his arm and beaming up at him.

Tsukishima glanced at your smile, noticing it looked... almost playful? “What?” He raised an eyebrow, already knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“You care about me,” you teased, reaching up to poke his nose playfully. “You were worried about me because you careeee about me.” You had expected him to pull his arm away, stomp off until you apologized for making fun of him.

But instead he just rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead gently, “Maybe just a bit.”

That surprised you just a little, your heart skipping a beat or two in response, “I am sorry, Tsukki, I didn’t think I went off that far. It just got really crowded,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand gently. “But lucky for me! You’re so tall so it’s easy to find you!”

Tsukishima scoffed some more but blushed anyways, feeling now like he had overreacted, “Whatever. You’re buying me a snack to make it up to me, idiot.”

“Mmkay!” You beamed, the two of you roaming the market together. Tsukishima pretended like he had completely forgotten the whole thing, but you noticed that he never let go of your hand that easily after that. And he always kept you close in crowded areas.

So yeah, maybe Tsukishima Kei really did care for you.

Daichi is a calm cool collected dude. Calm. Cool. Collected. It was as if he was chanting these words in his brain, eyes frantically trying to find you. CALM COOL COLLECTED, he desperately tried to remind himself. Everything is FINE.

But that still didn’t answer the question: where the hell could you have gone off to?

It was one of the first big matches that Daichi ever invited you too and the crowds were 10x bigger than anything you’ve been to. Daichi’s whole body trembled with the idea that you were completely lost and waiting for him to find you.

“I’m sure she’s alright, Daichi! Y/N’s probably just exploring,” Asahi clapped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder, though Daichi could tell he was nervous too.

“Stop being such worry-bums,” Suga insisted, smacking both of their arms. “Y/N can be as scary as the rest of us! No one would pick on her!”

You were fully capable of dealing with things yourself, Daichi knew this. But he felt a surge of protective energy anytime he felt you needed him. “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled to his friends, his feet quickly running around the gyms to try and catch a glimpse of you.

“Daichi!” Your voice made his eyes widen, darting around to try to find you. Suddenly, he was attacked with a full on jump hug, staggering backwards to keep them upright.

“Y-Y/N! Where’ve you been?” Daichi asked with a laugh, holding you tightly and trying to avoid showing you how nervous he was.

“Coach Ukai told me Hinata left his shoes in the bus so I went to grab it before the game! Shimizu-san and Yachi were both busy so I wanted to help!” You explained, smiling up at him while holding the little bag up for him to see. Your eyes flickered over Daichi’s for a moment, noting the slight blush on his cheeks and the way he couldn’t fully meet your gaze. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, your lips turning into a little smirk, “Were you worried about me, Daichi?” You teased and laughed as his face turned even more red.

“Well I can’t win without my lucky charm on the stands,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair.

“Oh and I just thought you liked me,” Y/N shot back with a laugh. “Didn’t know it was just cause of your game.”

You turned on your heel, starting to walk back to the gym, Daichi following while stammering out a, “I-I do liked you!” He tried to laugh off his nerves, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave you a smile, “Don’t make me all nervous before a game, love!”

You two shared some more laughs as everyone warmed up, and just before you headed to the stands, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Daichi tried to play it off cool but he was wobbly the whole walk towards the team and the group of boys just laughed, all slapping his back in pride. 

Unlike the Cap’n, Asahi is not calm, cool, or collected. I mean I think he’s cool but not in this sense LOL.

Asahi and you decided to have a picnic for lunch in a nearby park. But while he was setting up, you magically disappeared and Asahi felt all of his panic just intensify.

Did you? Leave him? To be on his own? Was this your way of breaking up with him?

No, Asahi tried to convince himself, you loved him. You guys had been together for almost a year now, that’s not how you’d end thins... is it?

Maybe you got lost? Did Asahi walk a little too fast to this spot? He knew sometimes you had a hard time keeping up with his long legs but he thought you had been holding his hand this whole time.

His eyes scanned the somewhat busy park. He couldn’t find you anywhere. His heart was starting to beat way too fast and his fingers were shaking while he tried to text the other third years to ask what the hell he should do.

Suga: LOL knowing Y/N she probably saw some cute chipmunk or something and stopped to take a photo of it

Daichi: don’t worry, Asahi, she’ll probably find you soon - you’re this gigantic dude in a park. I doubt she’d lose you

That didn’t help. Now Asahi was noticing how parents and kids were specifically avoiding him. His bottom lip pouted as he wondered just what he could do to seem less intimidating. Should he sit down? No, what if you were trying to see him? Sitting would only make it harder!

Just as he was considering climbing up the nearby tree to see the park from a higher distance, you popped out from some nearby bushes, holding a few wildflowers.

“Asahi?” You blinked in surprise, finding him trying to find a foothold on the tree. “Are we... eating in the tree?”

“Y/N!” The poor boy almost knocked his head on the tree when he turned around to see you, eyes widening. He immediately ran over to you and twirled you around in a hug, “God, you scared me!” 

You quickly apologized profusely seeing how nervous he was, “I’m sorry, Asahi! I saw some pretty flowers over there and thought maybe it would be nice to decorate our tablecloth with!” You kiss his nose and cheeks over and over again trying to get him to calm down (but really that’s just making him more flustered).

The two of you share a gorgeous meal together, and you spend the rest of the day with his head in your lap and you braiding his hair, intertwining some of the flowers you found. The two of you talked about everything and anything and Asahi made sure from that day forward, he could always spot you. Any time you guys weren’t holding hands or standing next to each other, everyone noticed that Asahi’s eyes would dart over to you every now and then, whether consciously or unconsciously. 

When he got home that night, he pressed the flowers you put in his hair in a book and kept them as a keepsake. And then gave them to you in a gift for your anniversary later.

Kageyama would start feeling panic and wouldn’t even know why. The game was starting soon and something just didn’t feel right. His muscles? No… he felt in tiptop shape. He stretched a little extra today too to make sure he wasn’t feeling stiff. His stomach? No, he made sure to have some food and milk a little earlier. And he wasn’t feeling nauseous so it couldn’t be that. His hands? No, they felt perfect in fact. He was so excited for this game earlier, he had felt the anticipation running to his fingers to just set the perfect ball. So why was he feeling so uncomfortable?

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think about what was making him feel different. His eyes scanned the crowd unconsciously before realizing what it was.

You weren’t standing up there with the rest of the Karasuno fans.

Where the hell were you?

His feet moved towards the gym doors before Ukai yelled at him, “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Kageyama? The game is staring soon!”

Kageyama’s eyes widened, noting the whole team watching him curiously. Why did Kageyama seem so nervous? He never seemed nervous.

“Don’t worry, Kageyama, with my spikes better than ever, we’re definitely going to win!” Hinata grinned, trying to lighten the tense air in the team.

“I’m not worried, just don’t be stupid on the court,” Kageyama replied, shrugging it off. But his eyes still scanned the stands. Where were you? You had said hello to the whole and wished Kageyama luck just a few minutes ago? So how come you weren’t standing up there with Coach’s friends and Yachi?

The whistle blew to indicate the game starting and Kageyama felt his stomach turn. Why was he feeling like this? You were probably fine so what did it matter?

You had been buying some milk from the nearby vending machines to make sure that Kageyama had some after his game. You knew that he had accidentally finished all the ones he had packed earlier and had been kinda crabby about it so you thought maybe it would cheer him up. You had stood in line for the vending machine for what felt like forever but it was all worth it knowing that you could throw the milk boxes into your lunch bag to keep them cool. Knowing Kageyama would be excited about it made you really happy.

As you walked back towards the gym, you could hear cheering. Your eyes widened as you realized that the game had already started and you ran towards the stands.

“Y/N! There you are!” Yachi’s smile looked oddly nervous. Not that she wasn’t normally nervous at these games, but this one seemed different. “I think something’s wrong with Kageyama.”

Your eyes shot down to the court, seeing how stiff Kageyama looked next to everyone else. They were patting him on the back, yelling “We’ll get the next one!” and Noya screaming, “BRING IT ON!”

“He was looking for you in the stands earlier I think,” Yachi told you with a small giggle, “He looked really nervous when he couldn’t see you.”

Your heart swelled slightly, wondering if Kageyama was off his game because he hadn’t been able to see you. “Kageyama!!” You yelled from the stands, cupping your hands around your mouth. The dark haired boy’s head shot up to look at you, a sense of relief growing on his face. “You can do it!!” You screamed some more, the people on the stands behind you yelling in support.

Even from far away, you could see his lips turn upward in a smile.

Alright, you both thought to yourself. Now we can get started.

[4joonkookie]

24 Candles

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Words: 2.6K

Summary:

A smutty, 24-hour diary of Jungkook's 24th birthday.

Also, Jungkook has feelings.

You play with JK’s butt in this one. Find butt-free fics:

Here Here Here or Here

Tags/Warnings:

SMUT, BUTT STUFF, Happy Birthday to the LOML, 50 shades of JK, dom!JK, sub!JK, oral sex, quickie sex, desperate sex, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, spit kink, conversational sex, butt plugs, toys, JK is deep and complex, JK has feelings, y/n is very in touch with JK’s emotions, strength kink, body worship, JK loves ARMY, JK loves you, fluff, angst, painstakingly canon compliant, not beta-read, trying to tame my shame but, WOW, also I am deviant trash.

*****

03:57 AM

You awaken to moonlight blinking through the living room curtains. The sound of a bag dropping and feet shuffling wake you where you lay on the couch.

He comes around to you right away. He kneels down to the floor beside you and pushes his forehead against yours. He leans up to kiss you as you take in his familiar scent.

“I told you not to wait up,” he scolds, gently. Seeing where you’d set up camp to wait for him to come home in the living room.

“I didn’t wait. I fell asleep,” you reply, coaxing yourself into awakeness. You look at the clock, almost 4 am.

“Happy Birthday,” you whisper and kiss his forehead.

He doesn’t say anything. He just leans into your neck for a greedy inhale.

“You smell good,” he says, hovering above you and squeezing your waist at his words.

You giggle at the tickling sensation on your neck. “Aren’t you tired?”

Still kneeling by the couch, his hands glide up under your loose sweater. He grips hard, pulling at your nipples with both hands. He latches his mouth to one of them and pulls his lips away until it pops.

“I was,” he says, dark and low. On his knees and pressing you to the couch, he sinks teeth to your neck, promising a mark.

You’re taken a bit aback at his rough nature but remember it’s been a few weeks, he’s probably pent up. His pace reminds you that you are too.

Soon, your gestures escalate from clumsy and quick to activated muscle memory, moving in fast forward.

You urge him to remove his shirt and toss it across the room. You can hardly see his face but the moonlight reflects off of him. You feel him angle your hips at the edge of the couch, pull off your panties and watch his silhouette lean down between your legs. The sensation of his warm spit spills down your folds, caught only by his fingers sloppily pushing into your opening.

You shudder at the intrusion. He spits again, this time audibly and more, your body not quite caught up to where his mind is.

“Missed you, baby,” he mewls.

He sucks and licks and laps at you, reacquainting himself with your pussy after a long time away. He uses 2 fingers to rub a path over your clit before they sink inside you. He repeats this, over and over, satisfied little groans fall from his lips before he removes his fingers and leans up to kiss you, desperately. Tongues and teeth bang together while hurriedly you tug at his belt and free his cock.

You use the lowered fabric to pull him to the couch, mounting him. He slides you onto his length and you both groan.

You grimace being stretched open by him after so long. Strong arms smash your laps together, Jungkook pushing up and grinding into you.

“Did you miss me?” he pants, between thrusts.

You keep your rhythm, circling hips around his cock.

“I missed you, Jungkook,” you say, tugging back at his hair with both hands.

He chuckles, enjoying the sound of his own name. Your bodies continue to move tantrically, shaking and panting, skin slippery with sweat. Feeling your orgasm coming, you start bouncing on his lap, trying to take in more of him.

He leans back to watch you, hands on your hips. He watches as you envelop his cock with every thrust.

When he feels you pulse around him, he grunts and groans and spills inside. When you catch your breath, you stand on wobbly legs.

He’s exhausted. You can see the sleep taking over his body. You urge him to follow you to the bedroom to clean up and sleep.

1:48 PM

It’s nearly 2 and Jungkook is still fast asleep.

They always do this to him. They work him to the bone until he’s so spent, they can’t get another day out of him. By the time he gets home, he sleeps for days.

You mindlessly scroll on your phone, occupying yourself next to him. You’re just happy to be with him. His side of the bed is so often empty.

He finally stirs.

“Hey you,” you say, dropping your phone to the bed.

He lets out a groggy groan and looks at his watch. “Ugh. I’m sorry,” he says, regretful about how long he’s been asleep.

“Don’t be,” you say before kissing his lips and brushing hair behind his ear.

He’s tired but it’s more than that. He looks rough and truly worn out, his typical brightness is dulled.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask. Although, you already know.

He says nothing.

He was devastated when they cancelled the tour. He told you over the phone and you could tell he was upset when it happened but the toll it’s taken on him now, is apparent.

“I’m sorry,” you offer.

“It’s just…,” he starts and sits up, wringing his hands, emotions bubbling. “I’ve always been tired.”

You sit up and face him, setting your undivided attention. “Yeah?” you encourage.

“I’ve always slaved away on choreo. We’ve always been busy.” He looks off, wrapping his arms around his knees that are still tucked under the bed sheet. That compromise is… for them. But, now, I can’t even see them. I don’t know when I'll see them again. I miss them.”

It’s heartbreaking. All you can do is continue to listen, allow him an outlet for these feelings. He continues.

“It's like I don’t know what it's all for when it’s like this. I knew before, when we were performing, it was very clear.”

He shakes the emotions from his head. “Sorry, I'm in such a sour mood.”

“Shhh... “ you kiss his forehead. just wishing there was something you could do.

“Thank you for telling me. I wish I could help.”

“I know.” He grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours.

You change the subject. “What do you want to do today?”

He positions himself so you’re face-to-face, sitting on the bed. He takes a deep breath. “First, I think I'll go to the gym. Clear my head. I'll make it quick”.

You shrug. “Take all the time you need.” You know it helps him.

The both of you stand up by the same side of the bed.

“And then...I’d really like to lounge around here with you if that’s ok?”

“I like that idea,” you reply.

“Maybe we can order in and…”

He kisses your neck.

“mmm...What do you have in mind?”

He presses his open mouth to yours, pressing his tongue inside.

“Some of that,” he teases.

You stand to your tiptoes and wrap arms around his neck, not wanting to let him leave again.

“And what else, birthday boy?”

This question, he opts to simply hold you tight. He hugs your body tight against his, inhaling at your neck again, planting a kiss on your lips.

“Maybe some toys?” He aims his gaze at the bedside table.

Your stomach flutters. “If you’re up for it,” you reply with a raised eyebrow.

He kisses you once more and heads out the door.

When you hear the door close, you collapse, flat on the bed and stare at the ceiling. You always look forward to when he gets home. But then you have to catch up with weeks of emotion, wishing you could’ve been there for the duration.

You can really feel the awfulness now. He was devastated when they postponed it 2 years ago. Now, after 2 years of holding on to hope just to have it cancelled and all other performances postponed indefinitely? He’s heartbroken.

When it was canceled you silently celebrated, knowing you’d have more of him to yourself. It’s not worth it if he feels this way.

On the other hand… concerts haven’t been happening for 2 years but the boys stay busy with packed schedules.

He always says it’s not the same without them. Jungkook has always been a bit more attached to fans than any other member, leaving his family at such a young age. Without ARMY, he seems very lost.

4:00 PM

Jungkook returns home in better spirits, wiping sweat with a towel from his forehead. He pecks your lips, walking through the kitchen.

“I'll take a shower and be right back,” he says, sweaty hair, clinging to his forehead.

“Can I join you?” you offer, as he walks by.

“I'll be quick.” he says, continuing to the bedroom.

You try not to think too much of it and shower in the other bathroom.

By the time you get out, his shower has stopped running.

You dress for your introverts-night- in in one of his t-shirts and perfume, nothing else.

The delivery food comes, you set it up at the kitchen counter and pour drinks.

4:30 pm

When he hasn’t come out in over 20 minutes, you lean your ear to the bathroom door and knock, concerned.

“Are you ok?” No noise is coming from the bathroom except his voice.

“Yes,” he replies, calmly.

“Do you need help?” you ask.

“No!” he exclaims, immediately. “I’ll be out soon.”

You return to where you sit at the kitchen counter wondering what he's doing? Is he hurting himself?

He follows behind a few moments later, casually kissing your lips before he sits at a nearby barstool.

“This is a ton of food,” he comments.

You say nothing and he gestures to clink your drink glasses before he starts eating.

You watch as he silently ravages. It always went this way too. He’s starved when he comes home. Most of the time when he’s working, he avoids eating altogether or can’t find the time.

He relaxes. You eat, drink and have conversation. He’s in better spirits, having taken some time for himself and away from work.

He seems comfortable, but squirms slightly in his seat.

He’s TOO comfortable.

You have a sneaking suspicion, now. One that’s not tied to his tough feelings about a cancelled tour.

“What’s up with you?” You query.

“What do you mean?” he asks genuinely. “Like, what we talked about this morning?”

“No.” You scan him. “You look like you’re up to something. Like you’re hiding something.”

Your tone is more serious but you try no to be accusatory.

“It’s nothing,” he insists.

You nod. “Ok,” settling. You continue eating though, conversation is lulled.

Out of curiosity, you open the app on your phone. It shows the plug is powered on and the vibrations are off.

You turn the vibe on, Jungkook nearly stumbling on his barstool. You approach him and he grabs the phone from you.

“I knew it!” You kiss him, standing between his seated legs, then, pulling back with sudden realization.

“That’s what you were doing in the bathroom?”

“Yeah. What did you think I was doing?”

You shake the thought from your head. “You got yourself ready without me?” you whine, disappointed.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“That’s so hot,” you begin to kiss his neck, no longer thinking about food.

“Well, can we finish dinner?” he says, with a mouthful of food.

You’re embarrassed by your own haste. “Of course.” You sit down calmly, patiently, and allow him to finish.

“What?” He questions as you eyeball him.

“Nothing. Just letting you finish,” you reply, sincerely.

He laughs and drops his utensils. “What, you can’t wait? You’re such a horndog!”

You scoff. “And who’s wearing a butt plug at the dinner table?” you tease, approaching to get your hands on him again.

“It hasn’t even been in for_”

“_So I’ll finish getting you readyyyyyy,” you interrupt, nearly pouting.

You slide your hands up his thighs, standing between them.

He hides a smile, you know he’s already caved in. Then, he lifts you up and you wrap legs around his waist.

He carries you to the bedroom, dropping you to the mattress. He undresses.

“Let me see?” you whisper, sitting up.

He slides face down on the mattress, burying his face. Your gaze follows his body. You straddle his legs from behind, caressing his back and groping at his muscled ass cheeks.

You pull his shy legs apart to expose the toy. You let your fingers drag over it, tugging lightly.

“You did this for me?” you ask. Ideas of what he was doing to himself in the bathroom flood your horny mind.

He nods, still mostly into the mattress.

“So pretty, baby.” You tug at the plug, sitting tight inside. You use the manual switch to set the vibe on. The low setting, like he likes.

You move the toy slowly at first until it glides in with ease.

“Is this what you did?

“Yes,” he moans.

“When you had yourself bent over the bathroom counter?” you assume.

“Mm-hmm,” he verbalizes and You push faster. He bucks back against the toy and your hand, his hole finally sliding open.

You settle him to his back, pillow propped underneath his hips and continue sliding the toy in and out of him.

He’s sufficiently opened, looking perfect.

He lays with legs spread, knees bent, eyes fluttering closed with every pump of the toy.

He fumbles your hands and pushes it all the way in to hold it in place and shudders, taking exactly what he needs.

You work the toy a little harder now., twisting and turning it along his walls, pressing against his prostate. Sweat drips over his body. Cum drips down his shaft and onto his abs. You lap at the cum on his body, cock and balls bouncing with each pump of the toy.

You make attempts to stroke him with your free hand and use your mouth on him but he shudders away each time, too close.

You’re not even thinking about coming, entranced in how beautiful he is.

He rolls you to your side, bracing a hand on your hip and slides inside from behind. He sets a pace and squeezes his own cheeks together on every thrust, clenching around his toy.

He buries his face in your neck and whines, his arms wrapped around your torso, tight.

He rolls you over and fumbles on top of you to pull another toy from the side drawer, powers it on, and holds the bullet to your clit while he pumps into you.

Precious ‘ah’s’ fill the air when he comes, pushing into you deep, feeling vibrations through his prostate and lower body. You buck against him when you come, too, shoving the toy away when it’s too much, but letting the waves flow through you.

Your bodies slow and Jungkook pulls the overstimulating toy out of himself. You drape your legs over each other, bodies tangled, and doze again.

03:52 am

He’s already gazing at you when you wake up.

You yawn and stretch, taking a hand and running fingers through his hair.

“Were you happy when you found out?” he asks, plainly, about the MOTS tour.

“What?” you stutter, suddenly awake. Guilt surges through your body. You hadn’t properly considered how it would make him feel the first time you heard the news. It’s different now.

He must understand that. It’s different now.

“I don’t want you to feel this way,” you start. “ I would do anything if you didn’t feel this way.”

He nods. “I know.” He grabs your hands in his. “Were you happy?”

You hang your head. “Yes. At first.”

“Good.” he caresses your cheek, lifting your chin. “I’m glad you were happy.”

The both of you doze again.

[moonknightly]

now all you see is red : santiago garcia x reader

Word Count: 3.6k+

Excerpt: “There’s you, and God, Santi would let you completely ruin him.”

Warnings: Smut (18+), choking, spanking, light bondage, dom/sub dynamic, light degradation/humiliation, rough sex, angry sex, dirty talk

Santiago is familiar with anger.

He knows it well, he’s used to the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth, the smoke he can never fully push from his lungs, the way flames lick at his fingertips as his blood boils in his veins. He’s used to the sharp bite and unrelenting sting, he knows the exact sound his fist is going to make when it meets drywall, can hear each bone crack on impact and can feel the sensation of his knuckles splitting open, can visualize the black and blue bruises that will mark his skin for weeks to come.

They might as well be permanent, he never feels like himself without those damn bruises anymore. They’ve become an integral part of him, just like the scar on the back of his neck and the weight he carries on his shoulders day in and day out.

Just like his anger.

He needs it, he doesn’t remember how to get through without it. Anger isn’t a stranger to the ex soldier, but a lover.

It’s a dance so intimate, one he’s performed thousands and thousands of times before. It keeps him grounded, reminds him that he’s real, that he’s here. He’s alive and he’s breathing, he’s not lying at the bottom of a ditch in a foreign country with a bullet in his side, rotting. He made it out, he’s earned his temper.

He’s in control. He has the power, and nothing is going to hurt him again. He won’t let it.

Except, that’s not entirely true.

There’s you, and God, Santi would let you completely ruin him.

And you have, you so have. You’ve fucking wrecked him, but he refuses to let you see it, he doesn’t even fully understand it himself. In all of the years you’ve known each other, Santi’s been able to keep that little secret to himself, and he’s not about to give it up now, he doesn’t need that shit.

What he needs is the control back in the palm of his hand after losing it for the last week. He needs to feel some sense of power after spending seven days in unfamiliar territory, feeling utterly torn apart by grief and worry.

They’d lost contact with you on your last assignment, and an entire week had gone by without so much as a word until you suddenly showed up at base, seemingly fine. Santi hadn’t been able to find even a scratch on your perfect skin, and he’d checked several times just to be sure. You’re fine.

But Santi isn’t. Fuck, he is so fucking far from fine, he feels like he’s going to be sick. His initial relief is fading fast, threatening to turn into something that he has no desire to feel, something he doesn’t know how to handle. He doesn’t want it, doesn’t need it.

He needs his control, his power. He needs familiarity.

So he latches onto the subtlest spark of anger the moment it strikes. He takes it and he fucking runs.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

His voice is eerily calm, almost chilling and it doesn’t waiver for even a second. It’s collected while the rest of him isn’t, but it’s enough to get him through. It’ll do.

“What do you mean?”

You’re sitting at the end of the bed, unlacing your boots, desperate to get out of them and into something comfortable. Santi keeps his eyes glued to you, tracking your every movement with expert precision that he’s spent his entire life mastering.

“A week. You went a fucking week without report.”

You seem almost annoyed, and really, you are — you’d spent the last hour getting the same lecture from your boss, you don’t need it from your boyfriend too even though it’s inevitable, so you shrug in response, and Santiago feels another white hot flash.

It’s perfect. He’ll take it.

“It would’ve compromised the mission, he was onto me. I’m fine.”

You’re fine. He laughs bitterly at that.

“I’m glad you’re fine, princesa,” he hums, not thinking about how he enunciates his words as he stalks towards you, painstakingly slow, brown eyes never straying from his target.

He’s quick, his reflexes sharp, and he has your chin between his fingers before you even register his hand moving.

“But that’s not a fucking excuse. You know your safety comes before anything else and we had no way to help you.”

“But I was safe.”

“But how were we supposed to know that, huh?” He shakes your head in his grip, like it’s enough to get you to see his way. “You could’ve been dead for all we knew. Do you have any idea what-”

He stops himself. That unfamiliar emotion is bubbling in the pit of his stomach again, and he pushes it away, down, down, down where it can’t touch him, can’t hurt him.

He needs another spark.

But now, he’s struggling to find it, and it’s clear. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch him wrestle with himself and hesitate, and he panics when your lips part because he knows you’re getting ready to ask him if he’s okay and he doesn’t fucking want you to. He doesn’t want to answer you.

So he just growls again, his hand moving to the back of your neck where he pushes your head forward until your lips meet his in a kiss that’s anything but gentle.

It’s all teeth and desperation and frustration and just like your annoyance, it’s perfect. Santi clings to that frustration to fuel his anger again, and he’s satisfied when it works and he feels the familiar tendrils of rage wrap themselves around his body. His free hand moves to your shirt, and he uses his grip to haul you to your feet only to shove you towards the dresser. You catch yourself, knocking a few things off in the process but you don’t care. You love it when he gets like this.

“Santi-”

“No.” He’s behind you again, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head back so your neck is perfectly exposed to him, breath hot against your skin. “Don’t you dare say a fuckin’ word, understand?”

You nod obediently — you’ve always taken orders as well as he gives him.

“Good girl.”

He nips at your neck once, twice, three times before he sinks his teeth in, biting down, marking you and he smirks when he feels your knees buckle just slightly. You’re struggling to hold yourself up already and he’s hardly touched you.

His hand travels around to the front of your neck and he wraps his fingers around your throat, not applying any pressure, simply just holding them there. He feels your pulse thrum under his fingertips and he counts along for a moment, smirking at just how quick your heart is beating.

“Nervous baby?”

You hesitate, and he feels you gulp, feels the way you shift just slightly under his touch.

“No.”

He tsks, sighing in your ear almost disapprovingly. He lets his grip tighten around your throat, and he revels in the sound of you trying to pull in air before he cuts you off completely.

“Maybe you should be.”

His free hand slams between your shoulder blades and you’re suddenly flat against the dresser, the force of it knocking what little air you had left in your lungs out. He gives you a second, just a second to use your safeword or to tell him to go a little easy, but you don’t.

He knows you’ll tell him if he needs to take it down a notch.

There’s nothing slow or patient about Santiago’s touch. It’s urgent, each movement made with purpose, never lingering, he doesn’t have time for that. He just wants to feel you, just wants to feel that anger and the pleasure and nothing else.

He pulls your jeans down your thighs, not bothering to get them all the way off or worry about your shirt. His eyes are immediately on your ass, and he growls when he sees that you’re wearing his favorite color — red. He loves you in red.

Not enough to save the panties for another day though. He rips them clean off your body, the stretching, tearing sound of fabric making him groan alongside your gasp.

“Open your mouth.”

You don’t hear him the first time, too absorbed in the feeling running through you. He smacks your ass, hard, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. The moan that leaves your lips might just be the most sinful sound Santi has ever heard.

“Open your fucking mouth.”

This time, you hear him, and you obey just like he knew you would, opening your mouth for him to stuff your panties into.

“Fuck I can smell you on them from here princesa.”

He loves it. He loves it so fucking much. He smacks your ass a second time, feeling it turn hot under his touch, then he does it again and again and again until he’s satisfied with the way you flinch, until you’re laying limp against the dresser with tears running down your cheeks.

“Color?”

Like he said before, your safety means more to him than anything else, and through his anger he still always checks in to make sure you’re okay to continue. He never wants it to get to a point where he actually hurts you, even though he knows what your body can take, even though he knows you’d let him, you’d even ask him to.

You can’t speak with your panties in your mouth, but one finger means green, two means yellow, and three means red. You hold up one, and he lands one final blow just to see if your answer changes. You still only hold up one.

“Good girl.”

He grabs your wrists and drags you back towards the mattress, and you immediately fall face down ass up just how you know he likes, but now he hesitates.

His knees are bothering him today, more so than usual, and he doesn’t know if he can kneel behind you long enough to fuck you how he wants to.

That only makes him angrier, feeling like he can’t perform. Feeling like he’s not good enough, like he’s failing in a field where he’s always personally felt like he’s excelled.

All he sees is red and you and it’s the exact distraction he’s been looking for, the perfect combination. His blood burns, his fingers burn, his mind is fucking screaming your name and nothing else. There’s nothing but you and the rage boiling in the pit of his stomach.

It’s intoxicating, it’s everything, it’s familiar.

“No, no no,” he laughs, shaking his head as he undoes his belt, hastily pulling it through the loops of his jeans. “On your side, hands behind your back.”

He’s on you the second you're in position, tightening his belt around your wrists so you can’t move them, can’t touch him. He chuckles darkly when your fingers wiggle around in search of something to hold onto.

“Poor baby,” he hums, voice completely condescending and he loves the way your eyes roll at the tone of his voice. He loves that you get off on this just as much as he does, he loves that you dance with his temper, that you know it almost as well.

He’s so fucking hard. He can’t wait any longer.

He doesn’t check with his fingers to make sure you’re wet enough to take him, he knows you are. He can smell you, he can see your juices glisten when he hoists your leg up to reveal your pussy to him. You’re always so wet, always so ready for him.

And he’s more than ready for you, stroking himself in the palm of his hand while he looks you over with hungry, dark eyes. His hand is nothing compared to the warmth and pleasure he knows you’ll bring him, there’s not a damn thing in this world that can make him come as hard as you.

He lays behind you, continuing to pump his length as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds, nudging at your clit and smearing his precome all around. He can feel you clench, can feel you try to pull him in as you start rocking your hips against him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re acting like a fuckin’ whore for my cock babygirl. You need it, huh? You need me?”

You immediately start trying to beg through your makeshift gag and normally, that would only earn you more teasing but just like you, he can’t take it. He needs you just as much, if not more.

His nails dig into your left hip as he pushes himself against your entrance, leaving little crescent shaped indents in your skin, his grip so tight you both know it’ll bruise but it’s more than fine, it’s so good. He stops, wanting to drag it out for just a moment longer and your begging only continues, growing louder and louder until Santiago finally gives in.

All it takes is one sharp thrust and he’s so deep inside of you, spreading you open on his cock, tearing your walls apart to make room for his length, your bodies flush against each other. His free arm is wrapped underneath your body, his hand finding your neck again as he quickly sets his pace, not giving you more than a single second to even attempt to adjust to him.

It’s hard, it’s fast, it’s dirty and your cunt is squelching around him so deliciously, the sound only pushing him further — he doesn’t know if he wants to slow down so he can listen to it properly or if he wants to go faster.

“Fuck,” he grunts into your ear, his voice gravely and rough and he thrills in the way it makes you shiver. “Fuck you’re so tight, you’re squeezing my fucking dick baby. How’re you this tight?”

You only let out a moan that’s somewhere between a sob and a scream, and that sound alone is so entirely hot in itself, it’s enough to make his toes curl. He wants to pull that noise from you again and again and again, he wants you shaking and gasping and writhing. He starts using your hips for more leverage, knowing that he can get you to cry and whine for him this way.

You squirm and jolt each time he brings you back onto his cock, every time he hits that spot you didn’t believe existed until he fucked you for the first time and he wants to explode as he watches you struggle to take it.

He knows you’ll hold up your fingers if you need him to stop, but he still pulls your panties out of your mouth just so he can hear it, just so can listen for your words. You never say them, you only scream and cry and moan about how good it feels, how he’s pounding your pussy better than anyone ever has and how you never want him to stop.

“Yeah baby?” he purrs, nipping at your earlobe, tugging on it as he thrusts harder and harder. “This my pussy princesa? Tell me.”

“It’s yours,” you sob, clenching around him over and over. “God Santi, it’s yours, I’m yours.”

“That’s fuckin’ right baby, that’s it.”

He tightens his grip around your neck, his left hand moving from your hip to your clit, fingers matching the pace of his thrusts. He’s rubbing you so hard, he’s almost surprised when you angle yourself closer, but that’s his girl. That’s his fucking girl.

Santi can tell you’re close when your sounds grow higher in pitch and when he no longer needs to drag you back into his thrusts — you’re doing all the work for him, moving on your own accord, searching for that last little push you need to get over the edge and he lets you.

He lets you control the pace, lets you take what you need and that’s when that unfamiliar, unwelcome feeling enters his stomach again. He tries to ignore it, tries to push it away, tries to tap back into the anger but once it’s gone, it’s gone.

Now he’s just frustrated, but he doesn’t let himself get distracted, not when you’re on his cock, bringing yourself closer and closer to an orgasm he doesn’t want to miss a second of.

He rolls onto his back suddenly, catching you off guard but he steadies you on top of him and uses your bound wrists to continue rocking you on his length while you get adjusted again. He brings his free hand back to your clit, just like before and it’s not long before you’re right on the brink of coming again. Santi’s right there with you, watching you roll your hips and bounce on his cock, impaling yourself on him again and again. You’re so full of him, he only wants to fill you more.

He thinks he might actually let go first, but then you’re falling apart on top of him in a matter of seconds, sobbing his name so loudly while your thighs quiver and your body trembles. That’s what finally does it for him, and he comes inside of you with a deep groan that echoes in his chest, his back arching completely off the bed in an attempt to get even closer to you. He quickly grabs your hips again so he can continue to piston himself up into you, watching your combined release leak out of your pussy and coat his cock in glistening white. He only moans, quieter this time, and fucks it back into you, his pace slowing as his cock twitches over and over and quickly becomes oversensitive.

He doesn’t forget to undo your hands before he pulls you back onto his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face into your neck. He’s working hard to catch his breath, and he hopes that that’s all you think he’s doing when really, he’s having to put twice as much effort into not falling apart.

His chest is heaving with emotion, his eyes are filling with tears that he refuses to let spill over. His anger is completely gone and only this remains. He doesn’t know how to control it, doesn’t know what to do with it and he hates it. He hates it so much.

And you notice, of course you fucking notice. He’s slow to launch into aftercare and it’s obvious that he’s distracted through it, something heavy weighing on his mind.

“Santi, what is it? Did I do something wrong?”

“You didn’t fucking call.”

His voice waivers and cracks and his cheeks immediately turn red, though he’s not sure if it’s from embarrassment or this feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

“What if something happened to you? You didn’t call.”

“Santi,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, and he’s frustrated all over again. Usually he’s so good at reading you, he knows you like the back of his hand, but again he’s unsure about the emotion. He doesn’t know if you’re exasperated or if you’re concerned. He doesn’t wait to find out.

“You have any idea what was going through my head,” he bites, wiping furiously at his eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

He doesn’t see the expression on your face, doesn’t see how his words hit you right in the chest and shatter your heart. He misses the way you swallow the lump in your throat and he doesn’t see your hands start to shake, but he feels them when they cup his cheeks. His shoulders slump at the contact, and then Santi just breaks.

“You didn’t fucking call, why didn’t you fucking call?”

He chokes on a sob, coughing to try and rid himself of it but it doesn’t work. He hides his face into his hands, shoulders shaking as he softly cries and he’s just happy that he’s able to keep himself quiet.

“Oh sweet boy, come here.”

Santi let’s you pull him into your arms, he lets you comfort him in a way he didn’t know he needed, in a way he never even imagined wanting.

And he lets himself feel all of that unwanted emotion, because he needs to get it the fuck out. He doesn’t want to hold onto it like he does with his anger, he doesn’t want it dancing in his veins. He never, ever wants to feel this way again.

Santiago is familiar with anger.

But he’s completely unfamiliar with the fear of losing you. He’s not used to the nausea or the way his hands shake with panic, the way his chest feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. He’s not used to any of it, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

He doesn’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.

But at some point in the middle of the night, he looks up and he sees you, still holding him, still comforting him, and it suddenly hits. Suddenly, he understands.

It’s you.

This is how you’ve ruined him.

You’ve made him feel things he’s been pushing away for so long, things he’s tried so desperately to keep under lock and key where it can never hurt him.

You’ve stripped him of his control, his power. You’ve taken away his anger and you’ve replaced the throbbing bruises on his knuckles, the smoke in his lungs and the blood that paints his vision.

He doesn’t see red, he only sees you.

Santiago is familiar with you.