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#TRULY THE MOST HANDSOME MAN IN THE WHOLE WORLD
stormyoceans · 5 months
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let's focus on what truly matters: sea's smile (and dem tiddies)
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bat-boys · 1 month
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besotted
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff
summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning you get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.
a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.
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Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.
A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit. 
As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate. 
"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world. 
"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you. 
"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words. 
"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."
This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.
"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son. 
You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger. 
"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature. 
"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop. 
"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at. 
"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise." 
"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.
You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond. 
"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags. 
"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him. 
"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks. 
"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.
"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom. 
As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder. 
"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.
"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other. 
"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now. 
"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.
"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle. 
"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."
"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate. 
The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet. 
A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room. 
With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can. 
The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.  
"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster. 
You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached. 
"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor. 
"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands. 
"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position. 
"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. 
"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.
"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.
"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough. 
A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep. 
Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew. 
You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest. 
A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.
"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared. 
"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children. 
"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly. 
"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat. 
Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light. 
"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into. 
"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips. 
"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features. 
"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his. 
You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.
"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath. 
"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own. 
"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two. 
"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it. 
"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently. 
"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."
"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.
"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest. 
"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.
"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home. 
"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep. 
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caelesjjk · 8 months
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𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕕 - 𝕛𝕛𝕜&𝕜𝕥𝕙
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⟶ title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 7.6k ⟶ warnings: Mnetions of blood and a wound, drinking, Jungkook calls you Data and Taehyung calls you Pigeon, infidelity-ish?? (you'll see), two smut scenes: oral (female and male receiving) mutiple orgasms, overstim, unprotected sex (thats a no, wrap it up) few different positions, making out, sweet kisses, nipple stuff ⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.
He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.
You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?
Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.
What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
⟶ authors note: hello darklings, its been such a long time. I apologize this took so long but it's finally here! I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of spidey!kook and venom!tae, they're truly my babies and I have loved writing them. This is only part one, I make no guarantees how quickly part two comes out, but I'll do my best I promise. I'm thinking probably four parts for this. enjoy! tell me all ur thots! Shoutout to M (@here2bbtstrash), Sav (@jeonjcngkook) and Kay (@tea4sykes) for looking this over and correcting my insanity and also assuring me that it's not terrible lol. Thank you all so much for your patience and help.
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“So where is he?” your friend Penny says from across the table.
“He said he was coming.” You sigh, stirring your drink with the straw.
“He said that the last two times we were all supposed to study together.” Hoseok gives you a look that’s part sympathy and part annoyance.
“He’s working three part-time jobs. Not all of us have our parents paying for our apartments, Hobi.” You give him a playful glare and he returns it, followed by a poke of his tongue from between his lips.
Part of you wished you didn’t know Jungkook’s secret. That you could go back to the days where you were blissfully unaware of who he was. But back then, being stood up hurt even more because you didn’t know why.
Now you know. You know that Jungkook is Spider-Man. The infamous superhero  with powers he acquired from being bitten by a lab altered arachnid a few years ago.
He saved your life. Twice in fact. Both times it was because you were curious, too curious for your own good, and you had been suspecting something was going on with Jungkook. 
You followed him one night and watched in awe as he changed into his Spider-Man suit in an alleyway. And not just because he was Spider-Man, but because he was insanely gorgeous. You were hypnotized by the man who had been sitting next to you as your lab partner for most of the year. Who constantly hid his body beneath baggy clothes and bucket hats. 
You had always liked him a little more than you cared to admit. And after you found out the truth about him, your friendship grew into something more.
There weren’t any labels; you didn’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, much to your dismay. But Jungkook always told you that if the wrong person found out about the two of you, they could use you to get to him. And he needed to be able to focus on his whole saving the world gig, and not constantly worry about your safety. 
You understood. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little.
You manage to study a bit longer with your friends before deciding you were far too distracted. You call Jungkook on your walk back to your apartment, but of course he doesn't  answer. 
So now you wait. And you worry.
No matter how hot the shower water is as it hits your back, it doesn’t stop the worry. You just want him to be safe, even if he pissed you off by not showing up again. 
You wrap yourself in your favorite silky robe and get comfortable on your bed with some of your homework you didn’t finish with your friends, slowly getting immersed in all of the calculations and formulas that you love so much. They were a great distraction.
Not sure how long you’ve been studying, you get up to stretch and make your way to your apartment balcony, opening the doors and stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. 
The city is always loud, but up here it isn’t so bad. The traffic sounds far away and the lights are just flickers across the skyline. You might even think it was beautiful if it wasn’t for the constant bad lurking around every corner. Or maybe you had just heard too many scary things from Jungkook.
Sighing when he pops into your head again, you turn around to head back inside only to come face to face with the superhero in question. Seeing him hanging there upside down from your doorway startles you just enough to send you stumbling backwards towards your balcony.
Before you can get too far, or even fully scream, Jungkook is shooting a web at your torso, pulling you back and into his arms as he flips down onto his feet. Your head swims from how quickly it happens.
“Data, look at me.” Jungkook’s voice is slightly muffled through his mask. “It’s just me.”
“You scared me.” You look up at him as he removes his mask and shakes out his hair, eyes finally meeting yours. 
“I’m sorry, I should’ve been…noisier.” Jungkook smiles and you almost forget that you’re angry with him. Almost.
“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.
“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.
“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.
“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing, it's  just slow.”
“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.
Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half-hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?
“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers. 
“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.
You are not the universe's strongest soldier.
Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are right in front of you, scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.
“You okay, Data?” he asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.
You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers really are something else.
“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality. 
“What?” You sigh.
“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”
“I’m angry with you,” you whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.
“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off and sit them on the countertop before his hands come up to cup your face.
“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.
“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. It’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth. 
“What does it want?” 
“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. No one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours. “But Mr. Kim is working on that part.”
Kim Seokjin, more famously known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He was helping Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school. 
“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” you tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.
“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.
“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.
“Two days is a long time?” 
“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, making you giggle.
“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.
“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.” 
“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.
“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.
Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it, but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.
“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.
“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.
“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull back, but his other wrist shoots a web at your torso; using his inhuman strength, he pulls you up onto the railing into his arms.
“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.
You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.
And then the solid feeling of being on the ground disappears and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge as he swings you between the tallest buildings in the city.
“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek. “Just another minute.”
You keep your eyes clamped shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to peek just the slightest bit. You see the sun setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.
You soak in the feeling of Jungkook holding you so tightly because you never know when the next time may be. You hate to sound so dramatic in thinking that way, but it really is a guessing game sometimes . Your hands loosen and slide up into his hair, making him look down into your eyes and smile when he sees how fondly you’re looking back at him.
“Kiss me,” you whisper, even though there isn’t a single soul that could hear you up here.
Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth and then the other before the softness of his lips has your eyes fluttering closed. This kiss is only gentle brushes of lips, noses grazing in the sweetest way you can imagine, all the while Jungkook is still effortlessly swinging you between buildings.
He shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down. You kiss him once more before you open your eyes and look out at the nearly complete sunset…a thousand feet in the air.
“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” He kisses you again before you can finish the sentence.
“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.
“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building, taking note of all the intricate filigree and gargoyle statues.
“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.
“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.
“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.
“It’s insane…” You melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.
“Bed sounds so good right now…”
“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.
“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.
“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.” 
You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body hot and on edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.
“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.
Your chest heaves at the idea of being completely helpless. He’s taken away your control and your ability to touch him as you please. 
He makes quick work of the sleep pants you had been wearing, tossing them away to join the gargoyles on the rooftop. 
“Jungkook…” you whimper when he lowers himself between your legs and lies down on his stomach so he can be face to face with your heat.
“Relax, okay? I’m gonna make it up to you.” He kisses a path down your thigh, sucking gently and caressing with his tongue.
You arch your back from the ledge when he pushes your panties to the side and his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy. Just a sweet kiss at first, then a deep, swirling lick to your clit. You pull against the webbing trapping you in place, fingers begging to be in his hair.
If only the citizens of his precious city could see him right now. Face buried and tongue lapping just for you. All of it for you and not for them.
You can feel tears start to form in your eyes from the way your orgasm is already so close to crashing over you. Jungkook has spent quite a bit of time getting to know your body and memorizing the things he knows that you like.
“Come on my tongue, baby. I’ve got you.” Jungkook soothes before his mouth is back to devouring you.
One particularly harsh suck to your clit while his fingers finally join in on the fun is what sends you over the edge, clenching around his digits in spasms.
You’re lucky that no one could possibly hear you all the way up here. The moans and groans that you both make while Jungkook licks up every bit of your arousal are beyond obscene.
“Please get this web off of me,” you huff between breaths. Jungkook slowly raises his head and with a smile on his shiny face, reaches up and effortlessly rips the webbing from your wrists. 
You jolt upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your hands into his soft hair. Your mouths mold together automatically, your tongue tasting yourself from his lips.
“Did you like it?” Jungkook finally asks, pulling you into his lap.
“As long as I continue to pretend we aren’t thousands of feet in the air, I enjoyed it very much.” You both smile and you lean in to kiss the corner of his pierced lip. “You can’t always distract me with your extremely talented mouth though. I just…want you to try and be in my life.” You push some hair off of his forehead before he kisses your lips once more.
“It won’t always be this crazy, Data. I promise. I just want to make sure I help Jin as much as I can with this monster.” 
“I know.” You want to tell him that you wish you came first. That there’s always going to be another monster keeping you apart. But that’s the price you pay for loving a superhero. 
“Let me take you home?” He stands up, still holding you in his arms.
“Maybe let me put my pants back on first?” You laugh as he sets you down to retrieve your pants from a gargoyle statue. 
And then you’re back in his arms and swinging back to reality.
The sun is still warm even though fall is almost in full swing. Leaves are starting to change colors and slowly drop off the trees. You love the smell of them as they dance by you on the breeze.
Something you don’t love is the damn pigeons that have made their home in the nooks and crannies of all the old buildings on campus. They fly down from their nests and make nuisances of themselves with the students, trying to get pieces of food.
You’ve been continuously shooing them away as you attempt to do your homework. 
Sitting in the courtyard on top of a patchwork blanket, you’re lost in the numbers and formulas that keep you best distracted these days. So much so that you almost don’t see Jungkook before his head is in your lap and his smiling face is looking up at you, pigeons scattering about from his sudden movements.
“Good afternoon, Data,” he says cutely. You set down your notebook and pen, leaning down to kiss him.
“How nice to see you at school for once,” you tease, pulling his bottom lip gently between your teeth.
“Mm, things have been quiet for a couple of days. I got some sleep…and I missed you.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to lay down with him across the blanket.
“What are you doing?” You laugh and push against his chest.
“Making sure everyone sees me kissing you.” 
“Isn’t that dangerous?” You comb your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck. “If the wrong person sees?” 
Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes not meeting yours as his face scrunches in concentration. He abruptly sits up on his knees and you follow, looking around the courtyard.
“Something isn’t right.” Jungkook’s voice is low and quiet.
“What is it?” You continue to look around, seeing students walking to class or enjoying the sun in the courtyard like the two of you were.
Your eyes stop when you notice someone by the fountain taking photos with a professional type camera. His head of black messy hair is covered by a backwards black baseball hat. Long legs covered by snugly fit black jeans and his top half in a white button up, sleeves rolled halfway up in the most maddening way.
He must feel your eyes on him, because he’s suddenly looking right at you and you’re able to recognize who it is you’ve been drooling over. You feel embarrassment flood your face and body as you quickly look away, your heart racing in your chest.
Kim Taehyung. A photography student at your university. The best photography student if you remember correctly. You remember having a basic class with him your first year and he had seemed very nice. His smile was sweet, but the two of you didn’t talk to each other much at all. 
You did think he was absolutely stunning though, sometimes wishing you weren’t too shy to have spoken to him back then.
Your classes must have all been different after that, but you still see him around campus from time to time. Always taking pictures, but always alone. And last year he seemed to disappear altogether before reappearing when the new semester started.
When you get brave enough to look back up at him, you see he has his camera pointed at you, snapping pictures. You look away again so as not to alert Jungkook of what’s going on. Taehyung smiles when you look up out of the corner of your eye, before moving on to take pictures of something else. Why is your heart beating so fast?
“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks, making you jump.
“I should be asking you that,” you manage to croak out.
“That weird sense of something being off is happening… I should go.” He starts to stand up and you grab his hand.
“What about this weekend? You’re still coming out with us right?”
He bends down and captures your lips in a quick but sweet kiss. “I promise I won’t miss it.” He gently nudges your forehead with his, making you roll your eyes with a smile as you watch him jog across the courtyard.
“Was that Jungkook?” Hoseok asks, sitting down across from you on the blanket.
“Um…yeah. He had to get to class,” you lie. Again. “Hey Hobi?”
“Yeah?” He stops grabbing books from his bag and looks up at you.
“What do you know about Kim Taehyung?” You nod towards the man with the camera, still taking pictures of some angel statues on the far side of the courtyard.
“He’s supposedly the best photography major at this school. He’s also…strange.” Hobi pretends to get a chill.
“Strange? Strange how?” You’re interest even more peaked than before.
“I don’t know, ____. I just heard some shit about him talking to himself all the time, and sometimes he comes to class all beat up.” Hobi brushes it off like it’s no big deal.
You don’t pester him any further, instead watching Taehyung as he takes a seat on a bench and starts scrolling through the pictures he’s taken on his camera. 
Maybe people are making things up about him because he’s different. People don’t like different for some reason. But you…you tend to be pulled towards the different. Or it tends to find you when you least expect it.
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Saturday night has come and almost gone, and you’re still waiting for Jungkook to show up at Club Onyx to meet up with you and your friends. You’ve been waiting for hours and downing drinks the longer you go unanswered.
You’ve called and texted him over and over with no answer and are finally ready to just give up. Hobi gives you that pitiful look as you slam your phone face down onto the table.
“Fuck this, I’m getting another drink.” You don’t say it to anyone in particular and you don’t wait for anyone to answer before slipping into the crowd towards the bar.
“Can I get a Long Island please?” you ask the bartender when she approaches. You slouch down onto a barstool and see a familiar face on the other side of the bar.
Taehyung. Sitting with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. The hat you usually see him wear is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his curly black hair has been somewhat styled over his forehead. He’s still wearing a white button up, but he’s left the top buttons undone this time, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.
“Here you go.” The bartender hands you your drink just in time for Taehyung to look up from his phone and see you already looking at him.
“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, taking your drink and making a break for the dance floor as quickly as you can. 
The song playing isn’t one that you know, but as you chug down your drink you start to care less and less about knowing the song and just let yourself go. You want to have a good time and not mope about Jungkook standing you up once again.
You let strangers grind against you as you move across the dance floor, arms raised above your head and your hips swaying to the beat of the song. You’re a little tipsy as you place your glass down on the nearest table, but not enough to not know what’s going on. 
A slower song starts to play with more of an r&b feeling. You watch as people start to pair off, the movements of their bodies making heat rush through you and settle on your cheeks and  neck. You start to turn back to find your friends when you feel an arm slide around your waist, making you jump from the suddenness of being touched.
“Easy there, Pigeon,” a voice as deep as the ocean and smoother than satin says against the shell of your ear.
You twist your neck almost too quickly, eyes landing on the face of Taehyung. Your breath nearly disappears completely seeing him this closely.
“What are you doing?” you ask, but you don’t try to move away from him. God, you should move away but you can’t.
“You need someone to dance with.” He smiles and says the words with a matter of fact tone.
“I should find my friends…” Your brain finally starts to catch up and you move from his hold.
“One dance, Pigeon. Would be a pity to waste such a good song.” 
“Why are you calling me Pigeon? I have a name.” You fold your arms over your chest.
“I know your name. But the pigeons at school seem to have really taken a liking to you, I couldn’t resist.” His boxy smile widens.
“You’re not being very convincing about this dance.” You try not to smile.
Taehyung puts his hand out asking silently one more time for you to dance with him. There’s that nagging feeling that you shouldn’t, but there’s a bigger part that says Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend, and he stood you up after he promised not to miss this night.
You take his hand.
Taehyung pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulls you towards him, spinning you around at the last second to press your back against his front. You gasp when you immediately feel him lean over you and press his face into your neck, his nose skimming your skin.
His big but delicate hands find your stomach, slithering down until they reach your hips, slightly bunching your dress in his fingers.
He gently moves his hips and grinds against your ass in the most tantalizing way, reminding you that you did in fact agree to dance. Taehyung groans quietly in your ear when the pace of your hips becomes quicker with more added pressure from your ass into his crotch.
You let yourself relax against him, head falling back against his shoulder and exposing more of your neck to him. His impatient mouth finds the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he kisses a soft line across your skin.
“Can’t believe your boyfriend would leave you all alone out here where the monsters can find you.” Taehyung's deep voice vibrates through your body and settles into your core.
“I don’t have a boyfriend…or monsters.” The words come out sounding breathless as he continues to press your body closer to his.
“We think you do.” His long tongue traces the shell of your ear. 
We? You let it go because your brain is too foggy with lust to wonder what that could even mean right now.
“I don’t,” you repeat, pushing thoughts of Jungkook away for just a night. Taehyung laughs quietly, pulling your lobe between his teeth as his hands move up your chest to cup your breasts.
You don’t even care who sees the way he’s touching you right now. You’re becoming so turned on that you know your panties have to be absolutely ruined at this point.
“Come home with me.” He spins you around to face him just as the song ends, your eyes fluttering open as he cups your face in his hands.
“That…I can’t.” Your eyes search his, hoping it will make you realize that you need to walk away. Instead, there’s something that tells you you’re safe, but that you’re also in for a world of trouble. You don’t know how you know, you just do.
“I’ll make you feel so good, Pigeon.” His mouth is almost on yours, lips just brushing as he whispers. This man is fucking undeniable.
“Okay,.” you cave. You just want to feel wanted. You want to matter more than a stranger on the street. You want Taehyung to make you forget how much it hurts when Jungkook lets you down over and over again.
“Good girl.” His warm mouth slots with yours as he kisses you feverishly. Like he’s been starving for years and your mouth is his only source of sustenance. It’s hot, fiery, and all-consuming.
Not even sure when his lips leave yours, you’re suddenly being pulled by your hand towards the club exit. Your brain clears and you look around for Hobi or any of your other friends but you don’t see them. And honestly, you hope that they don’t. You hope they didn’t see what happened on the dance floor and you hope they don’t see you leaving with someone who isn’t Jungkook. That would be far too messy to have to explain.
“Did you drive here?” You squeeze Taehyung’s hand and he pulls you closer to him.
“I did. I didn’t even finish my drink, I promise I’m safe to drive.” He eases your mind as the two of you push out of the door and turn towards the parking lot.
But your mind is only at ease for a mere minute before you realize that Taehyung is leading you towards what appears to be a very, very fast motorcycle. Everything on it is jet black and ridiculously sexy. You wish you weren’t absolutely terrified.
“I’m not getting on that.” You stop in your tracks.
“Why not?” Taehyung grabs the helmet off the back and offers it to you. “I’ll even give you the helmet.”
“I just…that looks dangerous.” 
“It is.”
“Glad you’re honest,” you half-laugh.
“The bike is dangerous, but I would never let anything happen to you, Pigeon.” Taehyung swings one of his long legs over the motorcycle, straddling it as he waits for you to make a decision.
“We hardly know each other, Taehyung.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t keep you safe on my motorcycle, or that we have to know everything about each other to feel something.” He holds the helmet out again and you feel your mouth go dry at his words.
The danger aside, there is no going back if you get on that motorcycle with him. There is no way you would have an untainted conscience ever again. Every time you were with Jungkook from this day on, you would have to think about the fact that at this moment, you also wanted Kim Taehyung to fuck you.
That should terrify you more than it does.
You grab your phone and quickly open it to see no messages or missed calls from Jungkook. Your answer gets a little clearer as you reach out and take the helmet from his hand.
“Carefully,” Taehyung says, taking one of your hands and guiding you to straddle the motorcycle behind him. You settle the helmet onto your head, and Taehyung smiles widely when he looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re ready. 
When he starts the motorcycle, the vibrations from the engine immediately flood your body. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso as tightly as possible, and you wait once again for the world to go past you far too quickly. The same way it always does when Jungkook is swinging you between buildings.
When he pulls out of the parking lot, he doesn’t go too fast like you thought he would. He takes his time weaving between the cars and taxis, making his way through the busy streets and closer to the docks. 
You don’t entirely hate the motorcycle ride. Nor do you hate the way Taehyung laces his fingers through yours and holds them against his chest, or the way he brings your knuckles to his lips to brush a kiss against each one while he steers with the other hand. You don’t hate the way he sometimes moves that hand down to tap your thigh to let you know he’s about to make a sharp turn. You wish you hated the motorcycle ride.
Taehyung presses a button on his phone and a door on one of the warehouses starts to lift up. He pulls through it, parking the bike once inside. Your legs feel like jello when you take his hand to try and stand up, stumbling a bit in his hold.
“Okay there, Pigeon?” Taehyung grasps the sides of the helmet and helps you take it off. He sits it on the back of the bike before coming back to help you straighten out your helmet hair.
“It wasn’t terrible.” You smile and so does he, fire moving through your veins the longer your eyes stay locked with his. You quickly clear your throat. “So, you live in a warehouse?”
“I used to live in the city. It was just too…busy. I needed space.” He takes your hand and leads you towards some metal stairs. But before he does, you notice several more motorcycles parked inside the open part of the warehouse. Who is Kim Taehyung?
At the top of the stairs, it opens into a large open loft area that has a surprising feeling of comfort to it. There’s a kitchenette off to the right with just the necessities: a fridge, small table, stove and microwave.
The left side of the room appears to be the bedroom. A big messy bed sits against a headboard with intricate black vines carved into the wood. Soft pillows are haphazardly lying in all directions, some on the floor with their feathers scattered across the room. Taehyung visibly stiffens when he sees you notice them.
“Sorry about those…I think I might have a raccoon stuck in here somewhere.” He laughs and moves to kick the busted pillows under his bed.
Strange. He’s a little strange.
“Do you need something to drink?” he asks.
“Should I be worried about being here, Taehyung?” 
“What? No. No, I promise you’re safe.” He crosses the room and comes to stand in front of you, concern evident on his perfect face.
“I just…I don’t do things like this. I’ve never even had a one night stand.” You card a hand through your hair and Taehyung tips your chin up to look at him.
“Why does it need to be just one night?” His face softens and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.
“Taehyung…I don’t know what I’m doing.” It’s barely a whisper.
His head tilts slightly to the side before it spasms slightly, an uncomfortable look painting his face as he shakes his head and gets the spasm under control. 
“Stop it.” Taehyung grits between his clenched teeth, mostly to himself.
“Are…are you okay?” Your worry grows by the second.
“Sorry…I’m sorry.” He cups your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly, catching you off guard. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he whispers against your lips.
“I’m not scared of you.” It isn’t a lie. You aren’t scared, but something is off. And you’re too stupid to leave. “Should I be scared?”
“Not of me.” He speaks as if someone else is in the room. 
His mouth finds yours again and lust takes the place of worry and concern. Taehyung easily grabs your thighs and lifts you off the ground as if you weigh nothing at all.
The next moments are a blur of clothing being stripped and bare skin coming in contact with hands and lips. Teeth scrape over nipples and long fingers drown themselves inside your dripping pussy. The warehouse echos with the sounds of your moans and his deep groans.
After your first thigh shaking orgasm, Taehyung sits on the edge of his bed and you kneel in front of him between his knees, taking his far too perfect cock into your mouth. You worship him with your tongue and make him come down your throat, his hands tightly gripping your hair.
Chills run through your sweaty body as he bends you over his bed and eases his cock inside you. Stars explode behind your eyelids while your fingers grip the bed sheets.
“He doesn’t fuck you enough, does he Pigeon? You’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung’s fingers dig harshly into your hips as he mercilessly pounds you from behind.
You can only moan in response, the coil in your stomach tightening and threatening to burst again. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes and stain the sheets you’re so desperately clinging to.
His fingers suddenly start to feel sharper, like they could pierce your skin at any moment, past the point of hurting in a good way.
“Stop,” Taehyung growls and the piercing feeling of his fingers starts to let up. If your brain wasn’t so fogged by your oncoming orgasm you may have questioned who the hell he was talking to.
“I’m so close,” you whine, feeling Taehyung press himself closer to you, one of his hands coming to the back of your head and pushing you deeper into the mattress. The new angle  makes you feel him so deeply that even your stomach clenches and the dam finally breaks; you’re falling off the edge of the most shattering orgasm you’ve ever experienced.
Taehyung’s hips stutter as you clench around him, making him moan deep in his chest. When you can no longer hold up your body, he grabs your shoulder and flips you onto your back, then immediately slides his cock back inside your overly sensitive pussy.
You’re so blissfully fucked that it takes you a moment to focus your eyesight on his face. Sweaty black curls sticking to his forehead as you lift your heavy arms and dig your fingers into his hair so you can pull his mouth down onto yours.
“I almost…I almost lost control. You feel so good.” His tongue swipes into your mouth as he angles himself to hit your g-spot with every hard thrust of his hips.
“Please come, Taehyung.” Your nails dig into his back and leave scratch marks across his skin.
“Never wanted anyone as much as I want you…fuck we want you so badly.” He buries his face into your neck as he thrusts once, twice more before you feel him spill inside of you. Hips bruisingly tight against yours as his cock twitches each time more cum fills you up.
“Holy shit.” You move your hands back to his hair and gently lift up to see his face. You swear when he looks at you that all the color has drained from his eyes. They’re solid white.
You gasp and blink once, seeing Taehyung’s pretty brown eyes looking back at you in less than a second.
“Wh-what was that?” You’re still panting.
“What was what, Pigeon?” He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek before he slowly pulls out and walks to his bathroom, giving you a chance to ogle his perfect little ass and the muscles of his back.
“I just…thought I saw something,” you say when he returns to the bed with a cloth for you to clean up with. You really need to get more sleep if you’re starting to see things.
“Did I hurt you?” Taehyung’s face is suddenly a lot more serious when he reaches out to run his fingers over the apple of your cheek.
You remember the way his hands felt on your hips. How they could’ve been on the verge of piercing through your skin. At least, that’s what you thought when it was happening.
Looking down at your hips, there’s obvious red marks from fingertips, but also scratch marks that just don’t seem like they could’ve come from Taehyung’s short cut nails. What the hell?
“I um…I think I’m okay.” You pull the covers up over your hips a little, hoping he won’t see.
“You should sleep here. I can take you home in the morning, I’m just too sleepy right now.” He pouts his mouth a little and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his side.
“Okay.” You’re admittedly too spent to call an Uber or argue with him about taking you home tonight. You just need to sleep. Sleep will fix everything. Tomorrow you will wake up and not feel like you’re losing your entire mind.
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“…don’t ever fucking do that again…” You hear part of a conversation in your half asleep state. “I swear if you would have hurt her…”
Who the hell is Taehyung talking to in the middle of the night?
“She’s with the spider….liability.” A deep inhuman voice fills the empty air. Your eyes shoot open wide and every nerve is suddenly completely wired.
Are they…are they talking about Jungkook?
“She’s not. She said she’s not,” Taehyung’s voice answers, stress evident in his words.
“We should eat her now…” 
“No! You’ll have to kill me if you think you’re ever touching her. And we both know you can’t do that,” Taehyung yells.
You wrap the thin sheet around your naked body and slowly move towards the railing that overlooks the open part of the warehouse downstairs. You stay back far enough so not to alert anyone of your presence.
Looking down, you see Taehyung sitting at a table with his back towards you, wearing his black jeans slung low on his hips and nothing else. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.
And that’s when it seems like the shadows around him start to move and your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Because not only do they move, but they have a face. A terrifying face that is seeping from the back of Taehyung’s neck and moving around him …as it talks.
“You’re weak for her,” the monster growls deeply, its huge teeth and unnaturally long tongue becoming more apparent as it moves into the light.
“We had a deal.” Taehyung seethes. “I’m literally the only person you haven’t killed when you bonded with them. You need me to get your symbiote friends home and I need you to take down that fucking lab.”
You can barely believe what you’re seeing or hearing. Is this the monster Jungkook was talking about? The one breaking into the lab across the river?
“Aren’t we friends?” The monster asks in a condescending way.
“Not if you hurt ____. She has no idea what she’s in the middle of and it should stay that way.” Taehyung holds his arms out straight and the monster starts to wrap its moving pitch black skin around him…its skin becoming his.
You’re so startled by the sight in front of you that you stumble back, knocking over an end table full of magazines and books. Fuck.
“Shit,” you hear Taehyung say before the monster has completely consumed him. What stands in his place is something you will never forget for the rest of your life.
The monster must be at least 8 feet tall, huge bulking muscles made of that inhuman black skin that constantly appears to be moving. Its  huge white eyes land right on you immediately, its  mouth and teeth pulling into a wicked smile as it jumps into the air and clears the railing in a single leap. You scream as the ground crunches beneath its feet when it lands in front of you.
The monster looms over you and all the breath in your lungs disappears.
“What…what are you?” you croak, fear freezing you in place.
“We…are Venom.”
taglist: @hanversace @chaelvrx @moonchild1 @rkivewritersblog @ungodlyjoon @ricecakeslove @jeonsweetpea @screamertannie @tearyjjeon @kookrecs @bintificreads @minisugakoobies
series masterlist | main masterlist | Part Two
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sweets3rial · 2 months
Text
bubbles and cuddles
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inspired by this request
id!leon x fem!reader
summary: you haven't seen your boyfriend in a while though luckily, after a long mission and an even longer day, you arrive home just in time. you spend the rest of the night loving on each other gently before falling asleep in each others arms.
tags: tooth-rotting fluff, domestic fluff, so smut, smutty innuendos, canon universe, lots of kissing, bubble bath, bathing each other, little to no dialogue, reader works at bsaa and leon works at dso, undressing each other, mentions of violence and injuries, infinite darkness or death island leon in mind
word count: 3.8k
your radio was blasting the loudest music to keep you in high spirits and also to keep your eyes from shutting. you exited the freeway and tears were pricking at your eyes from holding them open for so long. you just needed to get home. you needed to.
your whole body was sore. you could barely lift your arm without wincing in pain. the bruise on your shoulder was only getting worse.
it’s funny how the body works. on the field, you couldn’t feel any pain. a sting here and there but most of the time you were able to fight through it. but the minute you stepped off the field, it was like every bone in your body had been reduced to dust.
the adrenaline was no longer running and your brain could finally rest, leaving your body in shambles.
the nurses said there was nothing wrong. A dislocated shoulder that they popped right back in was all they needed to do, now your shoulder is swollen, your blood busy on healing that certain area which left you light-headed and extremely exhausted.
it was rare that you and your boyfriend were put on the field at the same time. though, he works in a different division under the government. his job was similar to yours, keep the bioterrorists from spreading, investigate the area, eliminate anything infected, and report back to the higher-ups what you found in extreme detail.
you haven’t had time to sit down and spend a full night with your boyfriend in over a month. it was like the minute one of you got home the other had to leave, whether it was for a meeting, a mission, or just to be in the office as backup.
it was a constant cycle. you went home to sleep and awoke to go to work. it was on the clockwork. the minute you got a call, there was no ‘five more minutes’ or ‘i’ll just call out’. you had to get up and go or else lives would be lost.
it’s a cruel world you lived in, one that many many people weren’t aware of.
you smelt of blood, shit, and piss. your hair was oily and frizzy, it hurt to breathe, you could still taste the ash in your mouth, and gunpowder had made its way underneath your nails.
you couldn’t wait to get home; to your bed, to food, to safety, to peace. you couldn’t wait to get home to your boyfriend, the love of your life.
you couldn’t wait to cuddle into his warm arms and press your skin against his. he was your home, your escape from all the piss and shit in the world. he was your comfort, his embrace was like a barrier to you and the only person who protected you when you weren’t protecting yourself.
you could let your guard down around him. you could sink into him and cry, you could cry and sob in his arms and all he did was comfort you.
Leon was everything you wanted in a man, not only is he the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on, but he was also such a great partner. he is caring and sweet, he’s structured, intuitive, and organized, he’s dedicated to his work and getting the job done and well he has humor.
he’s a bit sarcastic and cocky at times but all it does is make you laugh.
he’s intelligent, coordinated, and a great observer.
you truly believe you fell in love with him because of how he is on the field. the one time you two coincidentally ended up on the same terrain at the same time and when you truly got to see him at his full potential is when you knew you were falling for your coworker, basically.
he was quick. his eyes constantly moving, taking hints and notes of every movement around him. he was able to observe and analyze, which is why you couldn’t hide anything from him.
he knew what was wrong with you from one glance. he could read you like a book. he could see the pain, the sadness, the hurt. it got even worse as your relationship grew.
he took note of your behaviors and your words, what you did and said when you were upset. even the tone of your voice. you couldn’t lie to him, you were forced to communicate with him because he wouldn’t leave you alone until you told him what was wrong.
that’s why you love him. there were so many other reasons. you could go on a tangent as to how and why you fell in love with the D.S.O’s golden boy.
you turned the radio down as you pulled into your neighborhood, your fingertips itching to reach home.
it was late and quiet. the sky was clear and deep indigo color, letting the stars gleam to their full potential. the moon was full and you could see every crater from where you sat in the driver's seat.
the streets were lit up with the moonlight, a blue hue casting down onto the sidewalk and the roofs of the houses.
no one was awake, not even the stray cats, it was still and silent.
as soon as you pulled into your driveway, you could care less about how you parked and whether the car alarm was on or not. you stumbled out of your car heels in hand and made your way towards your door.
to your luck, just a few steps, the sound of a puttering motor was heard down the street. you knew that sound anywhere. who else would be zooming down the street loudly this late at night?
you couldn’t help the smile that arose on your cheeks as you turned to see your boyfriend just turning onto your block.
of course, he had no helmet on. even after telling him multiple times to wear one. he always shrugged it off and said he was fine. though you were always worried, there’s been many many times that he’s crashed and destroyed his previous bikes.
you were scared that one day it’ll be his head next.
his deep brown hair was whipping in the wind, his eyebrows furrowed to keep himself from falling asleep and he was gripping the handlebars with pure impatience. he needed to get home.
once he caught eye of your car and then your figure standing in the dark cold night, he couldn’t help but go faster. the sight of you eased every muscle in his body.
he needed to get to you and make sure you were okay. he was glad to see you standing on your two feet, home, and safe.
though you were wearing a thin white button-up, the sleeves rolled up and some buttons undone. in this shirt, you could move easily in and even though he loved the way it clung to your figure, he also wished you wore something warmer.
he’s told you many times to wear something thicker that way you didn’t come home sick. but you insisted on wearing something that gave you easy mobility.
guess you’re both stubborn.
there you were, standing with a hazy smile on your lips, holding your shoulder and slowly dragging yourself towards the end of the driveway to meet him.
he carefully pulled into the driveway and next to you. his heart filled with warmth as he got a faint whiff of your perfume. he put his kickstand down as he put a stop to the engine.
he couldn’t wait to hold you and kiss you. he could tell from the look on your face and the way you were carrying yourself, you were exhausted.
your body practically slumped into his and a heavy sigh left your lips. he ran his hand up and down your back and lifted you onto his lap, being weary of your legs making sure they wouldn’t burn on the pipes.
you wrapped your arms around him and went weak in his embrace. god, you needed this. you missed being held by him.
he guided your legs around his waist, rubbing his gloved palm up and down the skin of your thigh soothingly. no words needed to be exchanged as he lifted both of you up and off the motorcycle and over towards the front door.
you were glued to him, holding him tightly as he carried you up the porch steps. you nuzzled yourself further into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath of his cologne. it was such a comforting smell.
warm cedarwood, fresh pine, and hints of sweet vanilla. his shampoo smelt fresh like mint along with the scent of his gel and sweat.
one arm held you close to him while the other worked on getting the door open once he stepped inside, you hauled yourself onto him and the tip of your toes. you kept your hands on his shoulders, roughly massaging his tense muscles, ignoring your pain, and looking into his eyes.
bloodshot and glossy with heavy bags. he melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut and a sigh leaving his lips. both of you had a long long day.
there were no words that needed to be exchanged, you walked backward as he walked towards you. your hands went from his shoulders to his zipper. slowly undoing his leather jacket until you could see his plain navy blue t-shirt underneath.
he shrugged his jacket off letting it fall at his feet. as you took a step backward onto the stairs, he wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close to him.
he nuzzled his face into your chest, placing soft kisses on your skin. his hands traveled up and down your back, feeling at your figure. your shoulder blades, your spinal groove, the curve of your ass. he just wanted to feel you.
he caught the way you winced as he squeezed you closer to him and he loosened his hold on you.
no one knows how much he missed you, how much he missed holding you, and the feel of your skin against his. he was glad he got home when did, if not, you would probably already be asleep.
he looked up at you, his chin buried in your cleavage. you brought your nose to his, nuzzling them together and sucking in a deep breath from your nose. god, you missed him.
you brought your lips to his in a deep and passionate kiss, spilling all the words in your heart to him, all the lonely late night and all the bad days, all the words you never got to say while he was gone, and all the words you wished to say.
his hands traveled from your back, around to your stomach, and up toward the buttons of your shirt. he slowly began unbuttoning each one, he wasn’t in any rush and he wasn’t undressing you out of lust, he just wanted to feel you.
he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, begging you to pry your mouth open so he could taste you. your legs went weak at the feeling of his warm tongue against yours and his hands slowly peeling your shirt off of your skin.
he threw it somewhere onto the steps, keeping his mouth on yours as he took a step forwards which further urged you to continue up the stairs.
you two slowly undressed each other as you made your way to the bathroom, neither of you daring to pull away from your kiss.
by the time you two got to the bathroom, he was left in his boxers and you were left in your underwear. your arms were wrapped around him, your body pressing closer and closer to his. he was all yours tonight, there were no missions or meetings or phone calls.
it was just you and him.
you turned around briefly, leaving his lips with a wet smack, bending over into the bathtub, and then turning the faucet on. the sound of water pouring into the bath drowned out the sound of heavy pants.
you shut the drain and reached for the jasmine bubble mixture sitting on the side of the tub. meanwhile, he was busy walking up behind you and rubbing up and down your sides. you stood up straight, leaning into his touch as you poured bubbles into the warm water.
he brought his head down onto your shoulder, kissing your bruised skin before slowly making his way up your neck and to your ear. his arms wrapped around you once again, pulling your back closer to his chest.
“missed you,” he whispered into your ear, playing with the hem of your panties.
“i missed you more,” you sighed out blissfully as you turned around to face him.
in a split second, your lips were on his again, teeth clashing and tongues morphing together. he worked you out of your panties as you worked him out of his boxers. his hands found their way under the purchase of your ass, giving your cheek a nice slap — prompting you to jump.
so you did, wrapping your legs around his torso and locking your ankles together. he stepped into the tub, the bubbles tickling his skin and the warm water soothing his sore muscles.
he slowly sat down in the water, more focused on keeping up with your pace. he could tell how much you missed him, you were kissing him without pulling away for a breath and you were clinging onto him like a koala would do with its mother.
your bodies were slowly succumbed by the soapy water, the smell of jasmine in the air, and the sound of smacking lips echoing off the walls. his hands traveled up your back, one hand working on splashing your back with water, rubbing the soap into your skin, and massaging your spine. the other hand worked on holding the back of your neck, keeping your lips pressed to his.
your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, scratching and rubbing at his scalp which earned you a satisfied moan. he pulled away briefly, throwing his head back and against the back of the tub.
you lifted yourself off of his lap and turned around to shut off the water. the water shut off with a squeak, a few stray drops escaping into the heap of bubbles and then there was silence. you leaned back against his chest, the water and bubbles covering your chest and ticking your chin.
he let his heavy arms come over your unwounded shoulder, his hands searching for yours in the water and eventually he found them. slowly gathering each of your fingers and intertwining them with yours.
you leaned your head back against his chest, shutting your eyes and letting out a sigh. you could hear the water sploosh and splash as he reached over for the washcloth at his side. he dipped it into the water, soaking it with the soapy water before lifting your arm.
he brought the warm cloth to your arm, continuing to place kisses on your shoulder and he washed your skin. he gently lathered the soap into your skin, even if he was exhausted he was never tired to help you.
he continued to lather your body, wiping away at the sweat and grime, kissing at the cuts, and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. his breath was hot and heavy, his words were like lullabies and his voice was like a drug.
you sank further into him, close to passing out until you remembered you needed to wash him too. you reached for a spare cloth, copying his actions and dipping it into the water. you turned to face him, straddling his lap and sitting on his thighs.
you placed a lazy kiss onto his lips bringing the cloth to his neck. you lathered at his shoulders while he lathered your back. your bodies stayed pressed together, not a single inch of space between you two.
he pressed kisses to your collarbone, not wanting to leave your embrace for a second, his body chased yours when you leaned away, his lips stayed on your skin and his eyes glued to yours.
it was moments like this you treasured the most. skin to skin and nothing but love. slow tender touches and silence. you two could be comfortable with each other without saying a word, every touch and every kiss spoke for itself.
the water had slowly become less warm, now murky from the dirt and grime that had stuck to your skin. he reached for the drain, unplugging it and letting the murky water drain.
both of you stood up at the same time, supporting each other as you stood to your feet. Leon turned on the faucet and switched the water to the shower head. you loved baths but everyone knew marinating in your bath water wasn’t ideally hygienic.
so, for the next twenty minutes you and Leon sat under the running water and at this point, the weariness was getting to you both. your eyelids felt heavy and your body was ready to shut down. a yawn left your lips and you leaned your head against Leon's chest.
“sleepy?”
you replied with a nod and he hummed, nuzzling his nose into your wet scalp and placing a kiss at your hairline. he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other reached to the faucet. he turned it off with a loud squeak.
silence filled the room, and only the stray droplets of water were heard. steam gathered at the roof, heavy with the scent of jasmine and citrus. you stepped out of the shower, your boyfriend not too far behind. he reached for your towel, fluffing it out in his hands before turning to you.
your arms were crossed over your chest, your teeth clattering and your shoulders bouncing up and down. he chuckled a bit, he found it cute.
he pressed the towel to your cheeks, squishing them together and intently puckering your lips for him to bend down and place a warm kiss on your lips. he continued drying you off, pressing the warm towel into your body until your skin was completely dry.
he scrunched at the ends of your hair, catching any stray droplets that fell onto your skin. meanwhile, he was pressing kisses to your face.
on your eyelids and brows, to the cold tip of your nose, to your soft cheeks, your chin, and the tips of your ears. he treasured every inch of you and his lips on your skin only lulled you deeper into a daze. you wanted to sleep so bad.
but you couldn’t leave him wet and cold. you reached for another spare towel, doing the same, squishing his cheeks and bringing your lips to his. he couldn’t help but smile against your lips, wrapping the towel around your neck and tugging you closer.
his lips moved against yours in perfect sync, he knew what you liked - a slow and passionate pace. he sucked at your tongue, moaning at your minty taste. he had you backed up into the wall, hands at your hips pressing you closer against his half-hard cock.
his lips left your tongue and then his teeth went to pull at your bottom lip. he knew exactly how to get you riled up. if you weren’t so tired, you would’ve fucked him so so long ago.
“let’s get you to bed, hun.” he hummed, you nodded in agreement, wrapping the towel over his wet hair like a hoodie and tugging at each side to pull him back towards your lips. you left a quick kiss on his lips before turning to leave the bathroom.
your bed was the same way as you left it. undone with blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. you didn’t care to get dressed, you needed to sleep naked, damp and all.
you slid into bed, your limbs completely giving out on trying to carry your weight. Leon watched you slump into bed, he wasn’t so far behind. he crawled in after you, chasing the warmth of your body.
you both got situated under the covers, rubbing each other's legs against one another - his hairy ones and your smooth ones. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the feeling. your bed was warm and soft and his arm draped over your side was heavy and secure.
you were at home. this is what you missed the most. him. even if you were sleeping on the cold streets as long as you had Leon, it was home.
home for you was wherever he was.
you nuzzled yourself into his chest, moaning comfortably as you entangled your legs further with his. your left thigh onto top of his and then your right on top of his other. he held the back of your head securely against his chest, massaging your scalp with the pads of his fingers.
you shivered, it was that feeling when you were so comfortable and so soothed to the point you just quivered. a small laugh erupted from his chest and then his lips found your forehead.
“get some rest, hun,” he whispered to you deeply. his command for you to fall asleep was like a switch. your body felt heavier as if it was sinking into the mattress, you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. your body was slowly succumbing into a deep sleep.
Leon waited for your heavy breaths to begin, he continued massaging your scalp and peppering kisses onto your skin. he wanted to wait to fall asleep, he finally has you in his arms after a very very long week. he isn’t going to waste a second.
he took a moment to admire your sleeping state, cheek squished against his bicep, damp hair splayed out onto the pillow above you, and lips agape. you sucked in deep heavy breaths, your chest pressing against his with every inhale, then falling with a light snore.
he tucked some of your hair behind your ear, away from sticking to your cheek. he ran his thumb over your eyebrow then over your lashes, careful not to bother your sleep. though, he was sure if the house collapsed you wouldn’t even budge.
your eyelids fluttered at his touch, your lashes tickling your cheek as you did so. he placed one last final kiss on your nose before turning away to yawn.
he rested his head back down against the pillow, further nuzzling himself against your naked body.
his limbs were becoming heavy. his eyes fluttering shut and the last thing he saw before he fell asleep was you.
the beautiful face that he would later wake up to. though for now, he’ll dream of you and what the future holds for you two. he’ll dream of a happy life with you away from the city, a dog or cat, children, and the weight of a ring on both of your fingers.
he’ll dream of your warm smile and your voice, your touch and your love. he’ll dream and dream until he has to wake up to reality. but at least that reality was with you by his side.
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(divder cred to @saradika,, pics from pinterest)
621 notes · View notes
mykoreanlove · 3 months
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manifested
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You were barely awake as you noticed the grip around your waist getting tighter. It was your boyfriend laying behind you, pulling you closer and nestling his head into your neck. He placed delicate kisses on your soft, warm skin while whispering beautiful things in your ear. You felt so giddy, so happy, so in love.
“Princess”, he whispered softly, “Are you awake?”
You didn’t answer but smiled brightly instead. You found his hand placed on your bare stomach covering you with safety and affection. You stroked the soft skin, starting with the back of his hand and ending with his long fingers.
Memories of where those fingers had been last night flooded your consciousness and made you shudder. You felt him grin into the back of your neck.
“I guess you are awake. Good morning, baby.”
You didn’t want to turn around as you were afraid of realizing that this was nothing but a dream. Just another session of your imagination that brightened up your life.
You had sucked at dating all your life – always being tossed aside by the guys you fell for. After a while you were consumed with your fears which resulted in you giving up dating altogether.
“Not everybody is going to leave you. Not everybody is going to cheat on you. Not everybody is going to use you for sex. Not everybody will leave you for someone else. Not everybody is a fuckboy, Y/N!”
Your friend’s words were prominent in your mind for a long time; however, you decided you couldn’t take the risk. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t believe in the possibility of her words being true. Being convinced that no guy on this planet would ever want you – really want you –  was burned into the core of your whole being.
But what if an imaginary boy could?
You often daydreamed about him, just for fun. Imagining being with the one that truly loved you made you feel better, so you kind of turned your imagination into your own real world.
In here, everything was peachy. You had no idea how you did it but the most handsome guy on mother earth fell for you. He was tall, slim yet muscular and moved with vigor. He was in his early twenties, just like you. He had piercing dark eyes, a distinctive nose and full lips. His porcelain skin was flawless and perfectly accentuated by his long, black hair. Since you enjoyed him so much in your daydreams you even gave him a name – Sam.
Ever since inventing Sam nothing was the same for you. Hand-crafting the perfect man made you happy, seen and appreciated. You finally had the feeling that you were truly wanted for all that you were. Every day you spent lots of moments in your head imagining what it would be like to really date him.
After waking up you would place your arms around yourself and imagine it was him hugging you, wishing you a good morning.
While pouring black coffee into your favorite mug you imagined him standing next to you smiling brightly. “Here”, he handed you some sugar, “to make the coffee as sweet as you, y/n.”
During your daily walks you’d imagine him with you, holding your hand and stroking your thumb while chatting with you.
And at night, when you were left with your dirty thoughts and desperation, you imagined it were his lips on your clit sucking, instead of the pink sex toy you bought ages ago.
After a while your inner world felt so true to you, so real, that you actually felt like a different person. You were no longer y/n, single and desperately afraid of heartbreak, but y/n, happily partnered with the love of her life.
Naturally, you showed up different in the world. You had that glow, that aura, that only people who are fresh in love had to offer. You oozed confidence and fulfillment, no longer looking for someone to complete you.
Everybody noticed the change in you and approached you differently: your friends loved your sudden wholeness and congratulated you on being your best self, past lovers popped up and found their way into your DMs, begging for another chance as well as random strangers who asked you out on the street.
You rejected them all – in your head you were happily partnered to Sam. Your loyalty belonged to Sam.
Until one day you were out enjoying some pancakes when you were approached by a guy that resembled your imaginary boyfriend a bit too much.
“You might think I’m crazy and I probably am, but I couldn’t help myself. Ever since I saw you, I had to come and talk to you. It’s like.. I feel like I am magically drawn to you. I’m Hyunjin by the way.”
This was definitely odd, but you didn’t think he was crazy at all. You felt it, too. You shared an intimate connection even though you had never met. Being with Hyunjin felt natural, comfortable – as if you had been doing it all the time.
You forgot your fears about dating and heartbreak – in fact, they never made their comeback into your conscious mind. All you thought about was Hyunjin and how he made you feel.
Desired.
Loved.
Sexy.
Confident.
Wanted.
Appreciated.
Taken care of.
Safe.
His resemblance to Sam was almost frightening – they shared the same looks, mannerisms and characteristics. Sometimes you joked about dating your imaginary duplicate but deep down you knew it was far from comedy.
Your imaginary relationship started out as a relief, as a way to make you feel better about being lonely but somehow you managed to find a guy that was identical to your made-up boyfriend. You would have freaked out by now but luckily, he had another name, so you kept your trust in funny coincidences rather than magic.
“Princess”, Hyunjin’s kisses brought you back to actual reality. “I was thinking about taking a trip to the states to visit my relatives and friends from high school. Do you want to come with me? Say yes, please.”
You turned around cheerily. “You lived in the states?”
Relationships were a funny thing – you were fluent in Hyunjin’s body language and knew his deepest secrets, but random things like past high school exchanges were still foreign to you. He nodded while his fingers were caressing your face. “Yeah, for a couple of years I lived there. It was a crazy time, completely different to here.”
You leaned into his touch more. “Different how?”
“Well, the language for starters. The culture was way more open. I felt cooler in a way. Oh, and I even got another name since no American could pronounce Hyunjin without insulting my Korean ancestors.”
Your eyes shot up in panic. “Another name?”, you muttered. Hyunjin nodded unknowingly.
“Yeah, my English name is Sam. Why?”
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lxmelle · 1 month
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The man surrounded by the theme of love…
Geto.
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Gege has made several writing choices to depict Geto as someone who was handsome and loved - arguably more than any other character in the series. Maybe Gege loves him the most - not complaining at all.
More under the cut - just a few visuals I’ve collected to demonstrate this. I’m certainly not alone in noticing it and there may be others who show this much better, lol. Tag me in if you want to share!!
My post does end with a not-so brief analysis which you can skip if you wish.
Geto, despite being cursed at birth with the technique to absorb the ills of the world, the very skill that led him to fight alongside Gojo as part of the Strongest Duo - by design, each others’ counterpart in so many ways - a twist of fate led them onto opposite paths, leading to complete imbalance, one that drove him into madness.
If Geto in some ways represented Love, it is truly the most twisted curse of all which played a part in his death.
Geto witnessed the most love confessions in the whole series - I found (and stole) it off twitter/now X:
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The Japanese originals seem more compelling to me:
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Riko says “daisuki” whereas Yuta uses a more traditional “Aishiteru” which, is quite embarrassing of a confession, and therefore almost hints at what could be Gojo’s last words to Geto, if it directly parallels Yuta & Rika’s relationship. And that expression Geto wears when he sees Riko and Kuroi struggle with separating?
That does not look like a person who cannot sympathise and empathise with people. Geto was a person who cared too much, and in search for a way to protect those he cared for, needed an outlet and something (in this case, lesser being, the humans) to blame. He descended into a mania and much like shinobu sensui from yu yu hakusho, seemed to develop some kind of mental disorder due to being unable to carry the conflicting ideals together. The dissonance the world presented to him was just too cruel, and he himself became a weapon to defend his ideals.
Before his defection, Geto was liked by his peers:
Haibara
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Mei Mei
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Loved by his family for and despite his ideals:
Mimiko and Nanako
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Shibuya crew liked/loved him and carried his will/beliefs even after his death, in their own ways, as family:
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Miguel and Larue in the most recent chapter to date:
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Translations (rough):
Larue: You and me alike, we just wanted Suguru-chan to be King.
Miguel: Yea, I followed just because it was Geto. After shibuya, I trained Okkotsu and I don’t want anything to do with the country anymore. (Something along these lines; a little too complicated for my rudimentary Japanese)
Larue: You , me, Mimiko, Nanako, Manami, Toshihisa, everyone just really liked/loved Suguru-chan.
Canonically, he was known to be handsome and popular:
Takaba
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Gege’s character book:
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JJK popularity poll:
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I do not have screengrabs of how Manami and Larue joined, but it was said to be due to how handsome they thought he was.
Maybe he was like Rika, who did realise how she came across in her life, and manipulated people, lol. But that’s a bit of a stretch to bring that parallel/similarity in. Geto was just quite a magnetic person, according to Gege.
And in the most roundabout way:
Gojo:
“my one and only”
“Love is the most twisted curse...” “curse me a little at the end.”
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“I don’t need love to satisfy me” ... “if you were there I might’ve have been satisfied”
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While love surrounds Geto, the theme that follows Gojo appears to be “the strongest” cursed; he was admired, revered, feared, and disliked by many. It truly breaks my heart, to think of what he had to give up to carry the weight of this for his whole life, until the very end.
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This looks like the most dizzyingly lonely picture of Gojo. It was indeed ironic to have it all but to embody what it means to have an unlimited void by being totally different.
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He suffered so much for his power and to have carried this strength. The sorcerer world was practically on his shoulders. The balance was up to him; everyone relied on him. Every time he tried to protect his love (geto) it seemed to fail. It worsened each time, ending with his own demise. But of course that’s just a dramatic interpretation - I don’t really mean/believe that, but it is one way to see the tragedy between Gojo and Geto. Strength at the expense of love; it plays out with the strongest this far as those identifying with this title are plagued by loneliness and do not know love.
They met before things got twisted within themselves, between them. Even after Geto left, Gojo seemed to be looking and waiting for him - to prove his trust for him almost as if he saw through his illusions and lies. Geto was the shadow (Yin) and Gojo was the light (Yang). Only the light can see through the dark. I’ll leave the gojo characterisation for another time / to other better writers.
For now, I’ll just say that I felt that he had planned for the possibility of losing to Sukuna (with the various things we see him do between scheduling the 24th and the actual day) and if he won, he’d just carry on the plan to cremate Geto on top of saving everyone and being a good example as the strongest. Worst case scenario, he would weaken Sukuna and I guess just die on the same day as Geto - idk, maybe as a form of redemption for one of his most painful experiences in life. Who knows?
I headcanon he was relieved to pass on, doing his part to defend the world that relied on him so much, with a big bang - a really fun fight.
And I’m glad they found each other at the end - the loved and the lost.
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Back to Geto:
We don’t get much insight into what Geto wanted or felt aside from a world that was better for sorcerers, those he cared about. Even at the afterlife scene, or in subsequent chapters, we only hear from others rather than Geto.
Call me biased and delusional; I believe he didn’t kill the innocent despite saying he hated them all. He loved and hurt so strongly that he hated with almost equal force. He did want to force evolution and eventually extinguish all human kind, to him: the ignorant source of suffering, but I’m glad he didn’t manage to get Rika. I headcanon that he was aware he was losing himself by defying his own principles (to kill sorcerers) for his own gain. That, and Rika with a binding vow for a life, no less, was just too powerful.
In the official character book, Geto was described as someone who told himself that he hated humans a lot, like a reminder. He didn’t kill people indiscriminately. I’m sure he was well aware of how evil he had become but he had chosen, hadn’t he? He expressed to Yuta, that self-affirmation was incredibly important in his view. And the more he interacted with the students, I think the more his humanity fought back - I mean, he was standing there crying from being so moved by what he saw. He also let Yuta heal his friends. How villainous? Or how incredibly loving in spite of himself?
Geto has been shown to lie to others too: jjk 0: described having lied to the school about the conditions for obtaining a cursed spirit, and after defecting: upon taking stage for the first time, stating that the looking the part (wearing gojokesa) was important (ie lying). At his death’s door, he also prefaces with, no matter what anyone says - why would there be a need for that if he wasn’t telling a half-truth? He sought to avenge Riko (first person at the cult he killed after calling him onto the stage + cue mic throw) and the village represented a bunch of people who he slaughtered out of rage and ignorance. I’m definitely not defending him here - his actions are reprehensible. My headcanon view is that he didn’t know how to live with himself after snapping and that was the only path laid before him, which he ardently committed to.
I just think that he held onto a form of love/humanity still- Gojo and Geto both did. Without it, Geto would’ve become the Queen of curses due to Rika (uncaring about his family, or killing young sorcerors despite witnessing the students’ bond and yuta’s selfless power of love in jjk0) and Gojo may have focused on training at all cost without embracing Geto’s principles and becoming a teacher to change the jujutsu world - he could’ve become the next Sukuna and take the title of the King of curses instead - crowning them both King and Queen - instead of both the King and Queen contributing to their deaths. Anyway, I digress...
Geto appears very mother-coded in his protective and defensive relations to the girls, but also to Riko, Kuroi, and Gojo - especially after Toji had killed them. He was so fiercely trying to avenge and defend them, but failing that had a huge effect on him. Moreover, Haibara - innocent, glowingly positive - suffered an undeserved death. It weighed so heavily on Geto, that he didn’t defend Gojo when Nanami vented about leaving things to Gojo who seemed to take it all in his stride, almost insinuating that Geto, too, had little autonomy but to carry on that cycle of curse consumption he began to loathe.
Yuki also underlined the meaninglessness of the death / sacrifice / relationship rupture / suffering. And like the novel implies: Geto was too sincere for this world. He just loved too deeply and wounds cut him too painfully. At just 17... what inner resources were they forced to develop?
He was disillusioned by the system, but respected that Gojo had a place there. This is also SatoSugu indulgent: He never once attempted to talk Gojo into joining him, despite it being the most logical choice, but Geto was the emotional and loving kind - he prioritised Gojo over his ideals / himself. This man was willing to die trying to pursue his ideals, but didn’t want to try convincing his friend even if he know it might fail. What does that say about him? I think it says he loved Gojo. And Gojo loved him.
He masked like Gojo did : the infamous “yeah I’d win” and Geto’s “I’ve made my choice” and his face fell as he had his back turned, stating that he just needed to do it to the best of his ability. This may be headcanon but it does seem plausible to me. He was under no illusions about what he had done. To love was to turn away too. To love was to let the other go. Sigh.
Backtracking a bit: When Geto encountered the twin girls, who knows what entered his mind, but there was something that emerged from being horrified, enraged, and it gave birth to new meaning. He would take control and save them - from humans and the institution that made child sorcerors die. According to Gege, he became Papa Geto. (Kenjaku is also mum-coded but the antithesis of motherly love, with the womb protrusion domain and actually bearing children.)
This is of course not limited to feminine energy, as parents, both male and female, have protective instincts. But I’m not here to go into that discourse. Just stereotypically, and loosely speaking, Geto is very Yin energy. He is a big Mama Bear. With extreme maternal aggression. We see female counterparts do this in the wild more than males. And yes, of course both male and female are protective. Both geto and gojo were protective in their own unique ways. That’s for another post. Geto would rather die than have anyone come save him. In fact, the scripture behind him in the temple goes somewhere along the lines of “death to the weak”. If he had failed, he deserved to die. His family should live.
Gojo cares for others differently. And yes we know he died whilst defending others too. He is inherently more individualistic due to what he is with his gifts and noble heritage. He is less emotional and more cerebral, the only time we saw him lose his composure was due to Geto.
He allows his students to take risks and would allow them to fight in his stead, like in jjk 0 where Toge and panda were sent to be defeated by Geto. Tough love, as Gojo admits. This is also very Dad-like in the modern sense of the word.
In my subjective experiencing of the world, it’s almost like a husband who is only really emotionally vulnerable with his wife, and is otherwise the successful businessman, dad, and whatever else he is. Geto is much like a mum that he would walk away from her husband (lol, Gojo in this case) in order to protect them in a way she deems is best. Maybe I’m a little nuts, I don’t know. (Actually I am a little eccentric, but that’s by the by).
Now this is totally just satosugu indulgent: I headcanon that Gojo also “protected” / was possessive of Geto by making a deal with Miguel since the latter said he would curse Geto if he died, lol. Especially in light of the latest chapter where Miguel said he was spared by Gojo. (And i reckon Gojo was respectful of Miguel being Geto’s family, so he spared him for that reason too). I mean, Gojo had to kill his best friend, but this was his burden to bear, you know? It’s almost sickeningly intimate to allow someone to end your suffering, and be entrusted with that too. Ugh, ouch, my heart…..
Edit: I’m reminded of that scene where Shoko reflects on loving neither of them, like Gojo, Geto didn’t want anyone to be alone anymore either. Geto said he didn’t feel happy from the bottom of his heart. Gojo felt lonely (although he said it got better at the airport scene). They weren’t alone, but probably felt it… because of the absence of their true/first love? Larue stating in the panels above that Geto wouldn’t wish for them to fight seems like a nod to what Geto believed happened between him and Gojo. Gojo raised allies - be strong, don’t be left behind. Geto a family - get along, don’t fight. Just pointing out what my take is on the parallels I’ve observed.
That ends the brief analysis portion of what I wished to convey about what appears to surround Geto. He may not have been depicted much in the series, but his presence has been felt through the eyes of many. It made me wonder why did Gege do this?
This author deliberately wrote multiple people in the verse to love and follow him (and spare him a death sentence for 10 years) despite not agreeing to his ideals.
Perhaps it isn’t Gege’s focus, understandably, to give us a lot more insight from Geto’s pov, but there is certainly some kind of narrative he is pushing to depict how this man, cruel yet kind, is somehow one of the few he seems to portray in this way more than others within the sorcerer world at the very least. That his life was somehow a tragedy that he might not have really known the love at all? I wonder what Gojo’s last words were to incite such a heartfelt reaction - well done? Welcome home? You did well? I love you? My one and only best friend? Sigh, I guess it’s a secret between them.
There are others who have written metas on Gojo and maternal energy. If I find it I’ll link it! Otherwise, search through my reblogs! So many fantastic writers and thinkers out there!
Thanks for reading if you made it this far!
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anantaru · 1 year
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THREE SECONDS
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — as your relationship was ready to take the next step, itto wanted you to meet his granny who had raised him for the majority of his life and was beyond thrilled to show you where he grew up in as a child, or especially how cozy his old bedroom seemed to be.
— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — this fic stems from a little thirst i wrote a while ago and since i adored that idea so so much i just had to make a whole one shot for it, didn’t expect it to get so long though, still, enjoy! <3
— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 5.9k
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, messy, whiny itto but also rough itto, riding, fingering, he's insatiable, the horny took him hostage, slight size difference (i mean he's huge), semi! public + his granny is next door preparing dinner.
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arataki itto, the one, the only— a man, who could never be easily defeated in the eyes upon his very self.
by the same token, he, in no circumstances regarded anything as a real believed problem which he would have to face in his life sooner or later on, to a higher notice, was he someone who'd pick out the clear positive in most heeded aspects and proceed to give his furthermost, unswerving best.
for you, he was everything and anything, all at once. The bordering, ingrained proximity between you both could have been esteemed like a mind altering drug— neither of you was marginally capable to keep a distance between each other, not when your relationship carried on to bring forth the best of your abilities.
arataki itto— the love of your life, your soulmate, a man who, to the actual core, triumphantly won your heart and sung a promise to protect it from danger of any kind.
be that as it may, tonight, your entire relationship had all gotten a different meaning in his life because of an undisclosed exponent, itto came into hazardous contact with his first real enemy in a long time— the name of the weighty villain was well known, ponderously soliloquized upon the brimming nations of teyvat, the revolting mischief;
anxiety.
now, to remain logical and give the full picture— today was the prized day where you were going to lastly make acquaintance with the person who had raised him for the larger number of his being— his granny, who graciously took him in as a little oni and fondly watched after him with peerless faith and love in this world.
and despite that, unbeknownst to itto, you were, without no holds barred, feeling the same level of distress. It wasn't unnatural to sought after such a devoted step in a relationship— on the flip side can it become undoubtedly frightening and alarming, singularly when it was a striking indicator to remark just how dead serious you both conceived your relationship and its fancied continuance.
when the evening befell the nation of inazuma in its brilliant illustrious artistry, you had met up with your timid boyfriend to then, fidgety stride to his grannies small sized house which had been a partially shade far outside of inazuma city.
your zooming thoughts— like cannon balls, were in abysmal need of required relaxation, in reality, you truly had no reason to be this frightened because even though you had never met her prior to this day, you heard nothing but subliming wonderful deeds about the woman in question, her accepting care and understandings, the way she did not see any differences in humans and oni— viewing them as equal.
"hey no sleeping!" itto suddenly barks, "wait wait are you feeling sick? we can turn around and sit for a while." oh, he sounds nervous but you insist you're fine, because truthfully, you had just reached your destination and you won't be defeated by something as insignificant as nervousness— it's alright, yet you wonder if your hands could please stop sweating so much? ignore it ignore it, there's no way back now.
in front of the door made of otogi wood, your boyfriend lessened his handsome face to meet you, holding your pretty eyes with his diamond shaped pupils. You easily allow yourself permission to cross the fleeting words in your thoughts to run over his question, what he had asked was indeed chucklesome, in a way that you weren't for certain if the spelled out sentence was solely pointed towards your person or if he was in reality questioning himself. "yes i'm alright— are you though?"
the jocular idea of turning around did not cross your mind, not when you came this far and speaking forthcomingly, the pronounced concern on itto's scrunched expression was much larger and dignified than your own, yet despite that, said tangible worry wasn't one bathed in hesitancy or doubts, more— in an enthusiastic procedure that you were, at last, meeting such an important person in his life.
"of- of course i am!" he blabbers, "do i not look okay?!" yeah.. he must be thoroughly relaxed, right? that must be the obvious case, though he was actively waving his hand in the air— yet in front of his cheeks, he made sure he's covering himself, so you wouldn't get a singular chance to catch him blush in a full scarlet pitch, "why— why the hell shouldn't i be?"
"you seem nervous." you bluntly stated but teased, firmly deepening the eye contact and archons, how flustered itto could become when you won't tear your enthralling eyes off him, "— or scared." you carry on to unfitly taunt your lover, sneakily drawing down a firm grin but leaving your brows quirked up light heartedly, "whenever you're experiencing one of those two emotions, your voice gets a little higher, you know?"
"wha-" he interjects, "it doesn't!" for a crisp second, itto came to terms with his graspable frame of mind— because why should he hide his agitation from you? and then the straightforward tension that had been viciously eating him up from the inside out ceased to exist, "not true!" now, come now, "not me!" it had blurred itself out when he got ruminated with a sudden contagious laugh from you while caressing his arm to soothe his worries once more.
"yeah, i can see that." these are some mean turn of events to play with your boyfriends sensitive feelings like that, he figured, so he let his strong hands shelter your soft cheeks in a heart beat, "i'm never scared of anything." he's unnerved, back to his confident self.
"never ever ever, in a million ever never years!"
"you're crazy." you laugh and offer him a signature smile, freely blustering out a sheltered breath as you humanely lean into his left palm— itto flashes you his pearly white teeth and his thumb was lightly tapping on your plump bottom lip before placing a sensual kiss on top.
curiously enough, he never missed the chance to do that, to flip his thumb over your lips with a large smile, so he could lead you through what he was originally planning to do— to smooth you.
"lets get moving m'lady." he refrains, behaving a split amount differently, in all respects energized, "we're already in front of the door."
"you know what i meant!" he pipes up in an immediate rebuttal while angrily stomping his feet on the ground, banteringly pinching your hip, "ouch!" you loudly squeak out in surprise but itto was quicker— because he directly then knocked on the wooden door so you couldn't get back at him without letting his granny see it too.
his coruscating eyes, they expectantly bunch up while actively awaiting for his granny to open the large door to his childhood home, the place, were no matter what past memories, whether good or bad, had been crafted.
"dear, is that you itto?" you paid attention to an older ladies puny asserting voice upon a small space between door and frame, revealed was a short and on the face of it, feeble woman, appearing from behind. "granny! oh granny!" itto loudly cheers and muses, "you sure took your time granny!" this was an all in all cherished attribute you treasured about itto's entire personality— while surely, it by no means has been spread amongst the crowds that he was known for his loud and sparkling persona, but observing his innocent delight when encountered with his parental figure, openly fostered a total gladden in you— it's because you love him, just how he was.
in redirected regard of your own self, you didn't dare to move a single inch— as if frozen to the cold ground, though be that as it may, you could proceed with your reasoning and refer to it as the 'not well regarded accessory' to your continuous pestering tenseness that wickedly sauntered through head to toe.
but on a positive note, it was beneficial enough for itto to be this tall and large in comparison to your own frame, meaning you were capable to easily slip behind his back in hiding.
"this is who i've been telling you about." damn it, a genuine smile plucked the outer region of his lips as he largely stepped aside to reveal you like a gift from the heavens, his hands embarrassingly pointing towards you.
before you can say anything at all, itto had gladly taken over the role of the awkward introduction process himself and introduced you to his lovely granny.
again, thanks to the electro archon for your perfect boyfriend.
"it is such a deep pleasure of meeting you, dear." whatever it may be now, the woman conveyed an immediate tranquillizing quell which had brightly subdued your tensed muscles. "the pleasure really is all mine, miss!" extending your hand to her, she slowly lunged forward to shake it as you introduced yourself again.
now, in retrospect, this entire time, you had been tremendously nervous— highly strung, repeatedly shifting in your shuddering stance from left foot to right foot, right foot to left foot, though now, as you walked into her small home— with itto being a gentleman and closing the door shut behind you both, you at present had felt like you were truly welcomed in her abode.
(major mental sticker for the next time: don't let the useless negativity consume your goddamn mind, okay?)
well, back to business.
throughout the time, itto's sizable hand was, no matter what, situated solidly on the region above your behind, lovingly stationed on your lower back while he guided you to the homely warm and restful living room.
when you listlessly skimmed through the many decorations of the place, you discovered a framed picture of itto as a child next to his granny, it wasn't difficult to see their emotions through the stilled memory, both were marvelously happy and utterly fulfilled— grateful, with a squishy onikabuto plushie being sponged and pressed into itto's chest.
how long have you been staring at the frame? you can't recall, but fortunately to you, you got drawn back to the present reality when your boyfriend pinched your arm. His grandma— such a warm hearted lady, had affectionately assembled two beverages meant for you as she further beckoned you two to take a seat on the mellow couch.
"this is quite embarrassing." she weirdly was in a panicked stance about something rather awful, even going as far as to idly enclose her slender arms around herself, shaking, "what is it granny? are you sick?"
itto pucks himself into the seat with concern, yet striving to stand up right again and aid her in whatever was the critical problem at hand, "oh no! dear." she worrisomely shakes her head and her cheeks irradiated a scarlet tint, "but the dinner isn't ready yet!"
"that's all?!" itto exhales enormously from his chest— to a greater extent, one could say he was about to pass out from the thought of having something serious happen without him being in on it. Despite your rocky state of emotions from beforehand, you were now hopeful and viewed this polished opportunity as your sweet time to shine.
"can i be of help?" you bring forth self assured confidence in your tone color, "i might not be as skilled as you but i can try!" sliding the glass back on the coffee table, you were ready to get up and aid in the kitchen— it was not a big deal and you were always happy to help, especially when it was someone who was regarded as the closest family member to your boyfriend.
having said that, the wishing reply you had longed for, wasn't actually what happened, "there's no need dear." she sweetly giggled around her words, being truly flustered to the core by your sweet attempt to help her out, pretty much warming up with you already— you were lovely in her eyes, "and i'm certain itto desperately wants to show you around, isn't that right?"
you, of course, won't argue with that, "so damn right!" itto was full of happiness, and now, he's pushing himself up from his seat, additionally inviting you over to grab onto his hand so he could lead you around everything, "there's much to show after all!" with your hands quietly placed on your thighs, you feel nothing but giddy and take his palm, but rationally, you'd rather spend time with her so you could get to know her better.
that certainly was the best idea, but inside of you, the sultry skittish feeling of watching itto like that— so happy and excited, was priceless in your very eyes, maybe ... you could sneak in a few fleeting kisses before having to come back, hmmm, this does sound quite bewitching now, doesn't it?
on the way out of the living room, you were met once again with objects from his past, all pridefully shown and displayed around the tiny corridor he was leading you in. Next, on the very left, you found yourself in front of a wooden door that wasn't like any other, it was, quite frankly, messed up with what seemed to be symbols clumsily drawn on with a bunch of pencils— very itto typical, you humbly added.
"there we go." he's so excited, happy, euphoric— are there any other ways to possibly describe his emotions right now because in itto's perspective none of them were doing it justice, "the room of a real oni!"
"aww!" you accept the entry and let him close the door, leaving you both sheltered in place. his room was bigger than you had actually expected; a small, cleaned bed lovingly decorated with two larger plushies on top— one specifically caught your eyes, it was the same one that you saw earlier on the picture with his grandma, the onikabuto exemplar, while the other was funnily resembling a ruin guard of some sorts?
without much to say, both were worn off, he must've played with them in his childhood days.
"what do you think?" he quirks a brow, "to be honest, i was a little worried it wouldn't do me justice." you roll your eyes in the back of your head, what a guy.
at the prospect of being quite the stunner at taunting or playing with your boyfriend, you breathe out euphorically before speaking again, "the bed is so tiny, how little you were itto!"
"tiny?! it's not tiny!" he stomps forward, "this isn't tiny! or is it?"
was this the beginning of a heated debate? not really, but maybe a little. to elaborate himself further without requiring words, itto was swift and eager to carelessly wind away the dear plushies to awkwardly drop his wholeness onto the frail bed and archons— let it be known that the old woman outside had trouble hearing because those damned squeaking sounds were violent, dropping off the walls with an intensity you haven't heard before.
was itto about to break the bed? no no, you suppose. hopefully not.
"looky looky." he thoughtlessly leans back into the silken cushions but props himself up with his elbows so his pretty view on you would turn out even prettier, "it's large, just like me." — how can this man be for real sometimes, you wonder, snorting out a silly laugh on how impossibly comical he looked right now, with the majority of his legs hanging out of the bed frame.
"it sure does." you feign your engaging sentencing, silently getting close and walking towards him to sit, somewhere— which, uh, wasn't possible because he took the entire space.
literally, how could he not?
so, instead, you had, emphasizing heavily on the 'had', resulted to therefore straddling his hips with your thighs on each side of him. You're leaning forward and to that— your dress instantly responded with unknowingly pining up and revealing more of your smooth legs. Due to this unseen course of events, itto thumbed down entirely, now laying flat with you mounting on top.
the shallow heave that unbuttons from his throat when you declined your head to sweetly plant a semi innocent kiss on his lips, it was overflowing with tension, beyond wishing, so he leaned in— one kiss, two, one more? perhaps a couple.
in a profound refrain, you found yourself relaxed, making out with itto, still largely gentle and shy— if only he wouldn't have began to skim over your body with his hands, up and down in circles, his palms were seizing the movements of you, heatedly glissading over your exposed skin until looming them further back to greedily grab a fistful of your flesh and knead your ass to drag you close.
on purpose or not? but your cunt was now directly brushing on top of his member.
"mmh." you inaudibly whimper into his mouth as you coincidentally rub down on his groin, "ah— i'm sorry." he speaks and unexpectedly drags your pussy over his hidden cock. "fuck-" normally, you're so so careful— fuck, you wouldn't, right? do it on purpose, never.
amusing, you, as a matter of action, did not miss how tensed up itto was, how overwhelmed with the budding pressure in his pants.
how ... he was in his old bedroom, giving his almost painfully growing erection the thing it desired, from you, his cute darling. His breathing had been erratic while his digits further altered your flesh to keep you stilled but surely pressed right on top of his swelling cock.
rationality, here we go, "w-wwwait." his cheeks had a sudden burn with an equal amount of both a higher consciousness of euphoric bliss and clear embarrassment, itto figures that— archons, he might already be done for, the 'little' problem in his pants, how was he supposed to get rid of it before dinner?
"sorry." you cheekily coo and bit your lip back at him, "but you're comfy." cozily wrapping your arms around his neck, maybe another kiss will do it, so you sloppily go down and pull away with a sharp tug on his lower lip. You smile, although sheepish, "we should get up." and whisper the evident.
but unmistakably, if you would've acted out on what you were manifesting, or that you were more than certain you had wholly slicked up your thin panties by now— sensing them stick on your core, you would've blindingly leaned in to whatever you were attempting to do this second.
"wait." oh? this tone was different and you liked it— remembering the cause of it too. Much deeper was the timbre and not in his usual airless color, because itto was dead serious in his shaking utterance, a single word demonstrated a devilish command, "i'm a little—" you follow his eyes with your own and watch the mess in between your sticked together bodies— your dress had been draped up even more and was now pressed up, resting right above the beginning of your ass while itto's pants were extremely tight.
he embarrassingly looks up at you with hesitancy, "oh you know- i think i need a second." and he forcefully exhales his words from his tight chest, "but you are- fantastic." and prolongs his trembling heave right after, "and warm." while he closes his eyes, only a short amount because he had to catch your hips and stop them when you tried to move.
"what are you?!" he groans so loud, too loud— shameless, as you were quick to shush his noisy tongue with your hand clutched around his needy mouth, "shhh, don't talk." you coo, "don't say anything." and he listens carefully, with wide opened eyes, nervously gulping down the assembled saliva, "let me help you out, okay baby?"
finally, fucking finally, he thought, "c-careful." itto mumbles into your hand as you used your other to clumsily open up his pants— pulling down his, with pre cum drowned, boxers, at last freeing his erect cock that was plopping out of the garments.
it's heavy, shading red and the deep blue'ish broad veins on the underside of his girth left nothing left for imagination— your mouth practically watered at the filthy, sinful sight, but it's so tasteful and you wanted to please him right away, maybe suck him off and let him fuck your face, but now— not now, his grandma was literally in the next room and preparing dinner for you, right, almost forgotten!
lets just get this quickly over with and help your handsome boyfriend with his not so little problem— later on there was still additional time, you can always fuck at home, real messy and loud— leaving yourself to him so he was able to pump his seed into you and let it ooze out again.
"ah- baby." his voice sounded impatient and a bit whiny, "it hurts." he grits his teeth and his cheeks burn up, he lifts his hips and softly grinds into you while keeping you down, his face was incredibly red and even the tip of his ears had now visualized the exact same color. There's no way he didn't spend time to think about it too— about the shared fantasy, about pistoling his cock deep into your spongy cunt, it makes him question himself if he can actually pull it off, in this small room with the bed squeaking at every move.
the delirious flutter was risky, but worth it?
"okay, you know what?" he spills out, chasing more relief, "just the tip." he whines, "only the tip, please!" you curiously readjust yourself to rut your cunt on him— on the brink of turning brainless yourself. "you know we wouldn't stop." but the mental image of his tip splitting you roughly had you close your legs around his body, shoving your pussy on his bare cock again.
"but it hurts-" and you shake your head, just wanting to scream that it hurts you too, "i know baby but we can't."
one hundred percent a bad idea— that's what it was in an outer perspective, but how could you ignore his mushroom tip leaving itself get messed up by your arousal— how now, he nudged himself into the flimsy material of your panties to rub his length within your folds, spreading them apart, loving your wet cunt, "five seconds." you can barely hear him say it, "just five seconds." archons, where were the infamous rational thinking skills when you were in dire need of them?
fuck this, rightfully so, "three." now, you start to bargain for the tasteful prize, "four." and itto was determinedly stammering right back at you while his mouth was still covered by your hand. You both cannot believe each other, truly, how desperately needy you were, at this point barely caring anymore when he slowly bumped his drenched cock into your pussy— your underwear by now fully slipped to the side.
"three seconds!" — "oh man .. fine."
you drop your weight before he could finish his words, catching him so off guard was rare in it's own glorious state and you‘re taking his tip further, making the man underneath you deeply groan into your hand. "shut up itto!" you laugh and embarrassingly snort a little, "i'm sorry!" this whole lively situation had a comical sense to it because when else are you fucking your boyfriend in his old bedroom— in a bed that was way too small for any of you, but maybe that's the fun part of being this close together, fusing your skins as one.
you go silent, overwhelmed and shaking, to counter attack your natural body reactions you forcefully bite down on your bottom lip to withstand the upcoming moans, "fuck, fuck!" for comfort, you lean into him as his tip naturally slips in and out of your warm pussy, in and out, in and out, catching a glimpse of his already hooded eyes. "only the tip." you jokingly repeat, "mhm the tip." he moans back into your hand while you felt him drool on you— because there you were flaunting your tits at him, rigidly pressing them into his chest with your pointy nipples finding friction.
itto shuts his eyes on the sprouting frustration closing around his belly, "mhm, i can't believe this." he almost laughs, as if to ease you both down in his own silly ways, "me neither." he further molds his hands over your hips to hold you in a precise way. Truthfully, your trembling thighs were burning and sore, firmly splattered with arousal and exposed to him.
the position you were currently in wasn't kind to you, if anything it was becoming harder to remain focused so you wouldn't end up suckling in more inches without realizing.
you carefully move away your hand and give him enough space to breathe more sizable and damn— the sight in front of you was a fucking longed one, downright unreal, it wasn't able to be somewhat framed or painted into words.
itto whatsoever, his face had spiraled into complete redness, granted, he was trying his utmost finest to be good and not greedy, though the punishing demonstrated fantasy of bulging his cock into your sensitivity was always there— his shaking hands clearly giving it away.
"ah- this is awesome!" itto clears his throat and needfully runs his knuckles over your skin, reaching your behind— two of his fingers ran down to your folds to spread them and leave him with more room to stay inside, "yeah.. this is better." he heaves and you whine because it really does feel better that way— you've been plenty wet by now and if you weren't this patient, you surely would've fucked him into oblivion by now.
you hide your pleased face in his neck, "i can't believe we're doing this." and admit, arching your back a little (for good measure) before slowing one of your hands over his damp forehead where a couple of his hair strands were sticking onto, due to the excessive amount of sweat, "i think I'm dreaming!" though it's stupefying, itto gladly relishes in the smug satisfaction, claiming you one inch further, a bulged type of sweet and honeyed pride was delivered when he let you do it— slurp up one more inch, ambling his hips differently for a finer angle.
you kiss itto's lips to soothe his gravelly groans, in addition to your own squeaky huffed out cries— he's so big and heavy that when you move just a little, it's as if he's strapping you off every single inch of control in your body, as if he's, on purpose, targeting the plushy splotches in your walls.
you grab onto another inch as he passionately groans into your mouth— more please more, bracing yourself, letting his tongue run free into yours, he continues it, pitching his hips further and spreads his thighs to rub you into him while his eyes flicker with lust and so do yours.
you just cannot think straight anymore, it's not possible nor required, you are so fucking fucked right now, both deliriously good and blazingly bad.
itto thinks it still isn't enough, his big cock was tingling in your walls and it should be criminal on how fucking fine your closed insides were, ravenously bordering on him and gripping him— it doesn't even compare to other instances in his life because you both couldn't keep your hands to yourself and wanted to straight up— lose your minds and bodies.
a hiss spills from his throat and it appears like your legs are about to give up on you— your tits too, bounce in tune to your actions and surge eminent bliss into your veins. You find yourself entranced when he crowds you and your toes curl at another easy shove forward.
the painstakingly grab on your hips was to leave bruises, his knuckles turning white and his dick shimmers with your arousal that you sink down further.
you adjust and squeeze around him, bending over when breaking off the kiss, your wet lips twitching in a shameless grin as itto chuckled right under you. The lower side was rammed with your transparent liquids puffing out your pussy— itto's eyes were blown wide and he makes sure to always remember to stretch your ass while you look so adorable above him, creaming on his cock that was now completely clashed into you.
hold on.
what happened to the three stated seconds? or just the tip?
three or none, oh no— not this, please no, archons above please send us mercy because how much fucking time has passed since you started this succulent and mouthwatering gamble?
"fuck— just like that." itto mouths without a single care behind those eyes, "you're the prettiest baby, you know that?" he lifts himself into you and turns the bed into nothing more than a squeaky noisy problem. It could've turned out real embarrassing if not one of you had turned on your hazy braincells.
"itto wait!" you foolishly whine, "shit, too loud!" he bottoms out and smacks his balls into you, remembering the obscene situation as the bed loudly creaked. "shit, shit shit." your mouth clashes onto his with saliva bubbling out of the outer parts of your lips. Yet you don't stop, instead you grind your pretty cunt on him and smear his filth over your soft walls.
"do you think?" you're concerned for the obvious, stilling yourself, "no no, don't worry baby." itto speaks up, "are you sure? we were very loud right now." he captures your body in between his arms to twitch inside your core, you on the other hnd never adjusted to his large dick— you just couldn't stop pulsing on his length, it's swilled with your liquids. "i got you, i'm sure she didn't hear anything."
while you do want to place your greatest trust into him, you weren't stupid, but amidst the sinfulness of it all, you nod your head at him. "we need to finish this quickly." whispering from above, your warm breath fans over his skin.
itto doesn't answer, there was no need for it, not now at least. He reaches up to lift your chin to lead you towards his lips and you cry into the sloppy kiss while his other hand dampened down on your folds, roughly stimulating you with his knuckles. "i- fuck, i-got-you." he finally says in between groans and urges you to continue, "i'll make you cum on me." his words came out in a stitched together grunt.
his mind— it was gone and clouded and another moan leaves him right after at the galvanizing sight of you. Itto braces himself and leads you to heaven, it's overbearing and frustrating, but the new punctuated jolts were closing down on your sensitive cores, they were tempting and pressing on your beating thuds.
all you could think of was for him to please please go faster, but it wasn't possible, not anymore. okay, well, it was but, you would equally be busted and you were sure the embarrassment of being caught by his fucking grandma during the act alone would give you terrible nightmares for years on end.
his knuckles dig into your shining folds and rub you fiercely while taking you with his cock. By how rough itto was fucking you now you had to close your hand around his mouth again so he could freely grunt and moan— vocalize his pleasure to you so you can latch onto him finer, constrict on his shaft and milk him dry until he's wet of a white ring of arousal, the clear determination to finally cum was genuinely all you both could think of.
you cry yourself into his shoulder when he pulls you to him, fisting his palms into your draped up dress to practically rush you back and forward— using you as a fucktoy to drench his cock in. His hips are stuttering and you knew he was close— because in truth, you were too, the continuous intrusion of his sensual tip on your pleased insides felt so fucking fine you thought you were actually going to tear up from it.
it's when it began to burn as he continuously smacked his hips into you, both tightly squished into each others embrace and melting into your bodies. You were drooling on your entire chin and then it happened, bringing you back to the overstimulation which was twice as powerful, twice as deep— pulling out your climax from your strangled rooted core as you violently clenched on his heavy cock, your orgasm thundering over you.
"too much, too much!" you whisper cry on him and itto plants one of his hands on the back of your head to squish you close as he climaxed too, sealing his lips as you pressed your hand into him. "I'm so close— so close so close." his hips were still going but slower, his calloused palm holding you down, guiding you where he required you to release his seed, paint your walls with silken white and calm your inflamed skin.
"fuck!" he moans and his eyes roll back, "inside— im inside you." itto feels empty but fulfilled, the compressed position was in any other occasion insanely unfitting and uncomfortable, but for you there wasn't a better one. His breathing was hot and the entire room smelled of sex and filth, the spilling ropes of cum were seeping right out of you.
the both of you were utterly panting and damn, itto came a lot, cummed as deep as he could and his grunts were still there— low and under the shadowy rasps, leaving it to you to finish him and he relishes in it, entirely, when being milked by a warm cunt such as yours, a claimed one, by him alone.
it's silent before your thoughts come back swirling, heated but never forgotten, you prop yourself with your arms and smile at him, but then it hit you.
"no no." you panic and your eyes glue down on your not so innocent lower region, "we made a mess." he smirks back at you, all puffed out and blowing. "how do we cover that?!"
you lift your hips and are now presented with the post nut problem, vision still glassed up and shaded by how good you were being fucked just moments ago. "wait let me-" itto helps you lay down while he sits up on the bed, his cock limply coated in arousal, "do you need- uh, wait!"
he swiftly searches around the room and finds a towel, hastily handing it to you, "thanks." you shyly mumble, still sore, "how do i look?" you ask him jokingly while fixing your make-up simultaneously to rubbing off the crumbling perspiration on your body.
"like you just had the best orgasm in the world." he sings, putting up his pants while helping you as much as he could. "you're one to talk." you tease, breathless and still hot, pulling down your dress as itto reaches out his arm to you, aiding you to stand up.
a hand falls heavy on his palm and you curse yourself for not figuring out sooner that you were thoroughly sore and done— swelling and used, especially your muscles were burning, searingly aching, "oh— easy now." itto could do this all day, watch you fix yourself after he fucked your brains out— minus the doing it in his old bedroom. His inflated ego breaks records, "are you okay?" but the concern in his voice was sweet, "y-yes."
"lets eat dinner then!" you almost forgot about that.
he rubs his belly and you nod your head in agreement, spouting out a wheezy laugh while you began to fix his hair, "— and hope your grandma didn't hear a thing." and end his sentencing at last.
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apomaro-mellow · 8 months
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Matchmaking Harringtons 1
After a nice, hearty breakfast the Harrington family packed into the car and drove off to the mall for some shopping. They didn't have any set summer plans yet but that could always change. In fact, Steve's parents were formulating some schemes while he busied himself looking through a rack of shorts.
"He could always meet people on a cruise", Diane suggested.
"True, but Steve would need his own suite", Jonas said.
"Well we would've given him one anyway."
"What about a trip to Paris? The most romantic city in the world."
"And get his heart broken by one of those flighty Europeans? I think not", Diane vetoed.
Jonas shrugged. "It's a summer romance."
"There's a difference between a summer romance and a summer fling."
"....There is?"
"And besides, didn't we say we wanted him to get serious with someone?"
"True. A nice fella to settle down with", Jonas said, almost with a dreamy sigh as he thought about his son NOT being in the rumor mill for once.
"I didn't mean that serious", Diane said.
"Well all of this means nothing if we can't find anyone."
"Are you guys still talking about my love life? Which I remind you is none of your business?", Steve asked, chosen shorts in hand.
"Actually, we were talking about our love life", Jonas said before pulling his wife close and kissing her cheek.
It got the desired reaction from their son, a groan as he averted his eyes. After getting a couple of things to spruce up their wardrobe, Steve thought he could break free, but they truly planned to make a day of the trip.
His mom wanted some new sunglasses and his dad spent an inhuman amount of time searching for a new wallet. When he was younger, his parents rewarded his patience with an ice cream cone or something to that effect.
Now that he was older, he preferred other things. But his folks still knew his tells well, so it only took him glancing at the music store before Diane was leading them towards it.
"If we take a road trip, we need something to listen to. Pick something good."
She said this to both her husband and son, but Steve was the one moving, slowly towards a standee in the store.
"Holy...I can't believe it!"
"You like this guy?", Diane asked. The standee was of a man, with what must be their latest music in cassette form.
Steve looked at her like she was living under a rock. "Mom, you don't just 'like' Bon Jovi you...This", he picked up one of the cassette tapes, "Is something to be treasured."
"So you really like him."
"Not just him!", Steve said quickly, his face getting a little pink. "It's a whole band not just one guy."
While Steve was talking to his mother about what was apparently a well-liked music group, Jonas was having a moment of enlightenment. Because he saw the standee and then he saw the cashier. It was like the two of them were cut from the same cloth. Like they had the same mold.
Jonas wasn't crazy about the long hair and ripped jeans, but at least the t-shirt with the store's logo was clean. And he was wearing a nametag too. That showed some level of professionalism. He spent probably a little too long looking at him because the guy looked up as if he could feel eyes on him.
Jonas tried to meet his wife's gaze and bless her, she met his eyes right away. He sort of gave a nod towards the cashier and she looked, her lips widening into a smile as she regarded both the flesh and blood man and the one made out of cardboard. They were both thinking the same thing.
He's perfect.
Moving in sync, Diane kept Steve busy looking at other musical selections while Jonas stepped up to the counter.
"Sooo", Jonas started.
"Sooo, you ready to check out?", the cashier, Eddie said.
"I'm not actually purchasing just yet. But speaking of checking out...", Jonas turned slightly and to turn the attention to his son. "What do you think of him?"
"Umm..."
"He's a handsome fella, right?"
"Iiiis this entrapment?"
"Oh! Oh god no, don't worry, I'm his father."
"That doesn't make this any less awkward", Eddie said.
"Let me explain. My son...We want him to find someone special. And my wife and I think you might be a favorable suitor."
Eddie looked to Steve again, checking him out just a little. "And he's uh, you know, open to being courted? By someone like me?"
"Pretty open", Jonas nodded, keeping his voice low so their conversation remained as private as it could be in such a public place.
Eddie's hands were braced against the counter as he tilted his head and looked at Steve once again and Jonas could tell when someone was interested, even if they played for the other team.
"What the hell, I'll go for it."
"Perfect." Jonas beamed and moved away from the register.
After pretending to peruse for a bit more, Jonas sent Steve with some cash to buy the music they'd all picked out. He put an arm around his wife as they watched him approach Eddie.
"Well? Do I know how to pick 'em or what?"
"You got lucky", Diane said, annoyed but fond. "So, what's he like?"
"....I don't know."
"Jonas!", Diane hissed in a whisper and smacked his shoulder. "You sent our son to go flirt with a stranger and you don't even know what kind of man he is?"
"He looks like Steve's type. And he seemed nice. Has a stable job-"
"You're not a fan of the hair, are you?", Diane clocked her husband.
"It's a little lengthy. Not quite marriage material. But maybe he'll cut it before proposing."
"Who's talking about marriage?"
Jonas gave her a look. "He's a man now. And we said he needs to get serious."
"You'd let your son marry a bad boy?"
"You did", Jonas grinned.
Diane kissed his cheek. "You were barely a miscreant. And you mellowed out in your old age."
Jonas was about to say something back when Steve returned to them, music bought and bagged up.
"So uh, that cashier was somethin' huh?", Jonas said.
"What? Yeah, I guess."
While Steve was walking out of the store, Diane and Jonas shared a worried look. It had looked like he was having a fine talk with Eddie but maybe they had been mistaken. But even if they had miscalculated, they could still course correct.
Part 3
Tag Team
@tartarusknight
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Strength Within
Tiberius was humming slightly as he carefully, almost tenderly, chipped away another piece of marble. It was a warm summer day, and he was working on one of his best pieces yet: A statue of a gladiator, made of the finest marble. It was going to replace one of the hundreds of statues in the great Colosseum. There had been a storm some weeks ago, and a few of the lighter statues had been toppled over, breaking them beyond repair in the process. It had been a great honor to be asked to create a replacement, and Tiberius had immediately started to work on it.
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It was the statue of a young man, his body chiseled out of a piece of white marble that Tiberius had bought at the market. He was so focused on the statue in front of him that he almost didn't hear the noise of approaching feet. Only when the person stopped right next to him, did Tiberius avert his gaze.
It was Marcus, Tiberius' slave, a young man with a lean, fit body. Tiberius even supposed that the young man was kind of handsome, at least judging from the attention Marcus got when he went to the forum for him. Right now, however, the slave seemed flustered, almost fearful even.
"Master, there... there is a visitor for you."
Tiberius frowned slightly. Usually, Marcus knew not to disturb him when he was working. One wrong move and the whole statue could be ruined.
"Well, can't you see I am busy? This is most important work. Imagine all the people who are going to see my statue at the great Colosseum when they pass it by. Even the nobles, perhaps even the emperor himself. I can hardly afford to make mistakes here. Tell the visitor to return after sundown."
Marcus gulped slightly.
"Master, it's..."
Another voice, strong and filled with arrogance, spoke up. "I will most certainly not return after sundown. I am here, after all, to inspect the work for my Colosseum."
Slowly, Tiberius turned around before letting himself fall to his knees in a panicked motion. Standing in front of him was no one else but Cornelius Magnus, the emperor of Rome. The most powerful man in the whole world was standing here, in the backyard of Tiberius' villa, clad in the finest toga.
"Y-your lordship, I am so sorry! Please, forgive me for being rude!"
"Oh, I forgive you, artist." Said the emperor, stepping closer to Tiberius. "You seem like a nice enough man."
Tiberius was still looking at the ground as the noble came closer.
"Stand up, artist!" The emperor commanded.
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Tiberius was shaking like a leaf as he got back on his feet.
"I... thank you, your lordship."
The emperor thankfully didn't comment on his stuttering and instead looked at the marble statue.
"I can see why the great Colosseum has employed you. This is truly a magnificent piece. Who is it supposed to represent?"
"That... uhm. It's nobody, actually. I was just imagining a gladiator."
"Ah, I see. And what a fine gladiator he would make, too." The emperor replied.
Tiberius couldn't help but blush slightly. It was such an honor to receive praise from the emperor himself.
"But tell me, artist! Why is his chest so smooth and unadorned? Where is all the manly hair you would expect on a man of his strength?"
"I-I just figured that... you know... a gladiator would look better without chest hair. More... more elegant. It's the style, you see. Also, it is almost impossible to capture these fine details in marble."
"Hm. A pity you think so." The emperor continued to look at the statue for a few moments before turning towards Tiberius.
"You know, I have not only come to inspect the art, but also the artist." The look of the emperor now lingered on Tiberius himself, making him feel entirely uncomfortable. It was just the same judging look he just used on the marble statue.
"What... what do you mean?", Tiberius stammered.
The emperor didn't answer the question, but slowly circled around Tiberius. "You are aware that you are my subject, yes? That I basically own you, just like you own that slave boy?" he asked in a casual tone.
"I... yes, I am. I would never dream of questioning your authority." Tiberius didn't like where this was going, and he knew the emperor was, in fact, wrong. He was a free citizen, not a slave. Not even the emperor *owned* him. But that were semantics he didn't want to lose this job over.
"Good. It pleases me that you are not a troublemaker. It makes my life easier. I do not enjoy punishing my subjects." The emperor paused and then looked directly at Tiberius.
"Now, take off your toga."
"My... my toga?"
"Yes, you heard me."
"Eh..." Tiberius didn't know how to react. It wasn't that he didn't want to obey the emperor, it was just that the command made no sense to him. He had no idea what the emperor had planned.
"Are you refusing an order from your emperor?" The man now asked with a hint of danger in his voice.
"N-no, of course not, your lordship!"
Still shaking, Tiberius untied his toga, exposing his naked chest.
The eyes of the emperor were akin to those of a vulture as he studied the exposed body of his subject.
"Pitiful. But your face is agreeable at least. Agreeable enough at least. Get on your knees, boy, and use that mouth of yours to serve your emperor."
Tiberius froze.
"I... I don't understand."
"Don't be daft. You are going to suck me off. Use that mouth for something other than talking."
Tiberius stared at the man with disbelief.
"No." Everything in Tiberius was revolting against that request. He wasn't a particular fan of being intimate with other men, but even more importantly, he wouldn't let himself be forced to that against his will. Not even by the emperor. He was a free citizen.
The emperor had a cold look in his eyes as he spoke up:
"What did you say? I thought I misheard."
"I... I said no." Tiberius was trembling, but he managed to keep his voice firm.
"You... dare to defy me? You dare to defy your emperor? You will regret that, artist. You just forfeit all your privileges. Your life is not worth anything anymore. Do you know what happens to slaves who disobey their master? They are taken to the arena and fight to the death against wild beasts."
Before Tiberius could protest - or react at all - the emperor snapped his fingers. The clicking sound was unnaturally loud, like the crack of a whip. All of a sudden, Tiberius felt weak. Shadows and darkness came closing in from all sides despite it being a sunny day. He barely heard the voice of Marcus cry out, as he collapsed into unconsciousness.
***
When Tiberius awoke, he was not in bright sunlight anymore. Instead, he found himself in a dark dungeon. Moist stone surrounded him and as he got on his feet carefully, he noticed that he was imprisoned. His cell was small and empty aside from a heap of straw that served as a bed. It smelled as bad as Tiberius would have expected, and light only came in from a torch in the corridor through the iron barred door.
Tiberius stumbled towards the door, holding on to the bars for support. He was weak and felt lightheaded. He was also wearing different clothes, a simple tunic and sandals.
Of course, Tiberius recognized his surroundings. He had not been here before, but he recognized the masonry. He was in the coliseum, the biggest and most famous structure in Rome. Only now, he wasn't in the part where visitors went, and statues stood. He was in the dungeons beneath the arena.
"Hello?" He called out, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.
Even though he didn't expect any reaction, he heard steps approaching. He thought the sound of the steps sounded familiar and, really, a familiar face appeared in the torchlight.
"Marcus!"
"Master! You're awake!" The slave was obviously happy to see him.
"What happened?"
"It was all very weird. After the emperor snapped his fingers, it became really dark for a moment, and you collapsed. Then, the emperor ordered his guards to bring you to the coliseum as a new gladiator. And then, all your stuff was being sold off. I, too, was sold to the arena, although not as a fighter. They need a lot of support staff for the fights, so I was bought to be a cleaner and a servant. Oh, and the emperor's guards took your statue and smashed it. He was really angry at you."
Tiberius needed a moment to digest that information.
"I'm a... gladiator now?"
Most gladiators were slaves, or criminals, or prisoners of war. It was about the lowest one could fall, and all just because he had the nerve to refuse the emperor. Still, even though Tiberius felt anger swelling in himself, he wasn't angry at himself, but that *asshole* of an emperor.
"Master, I'm so sorry, I..." began Marcus, but Tiberius quickly cut him off.
"What happened is not your fault. And don't call me master. I'm not your master anymore. I'm a servant myself, as it seems. Just call me Tiberius."
"But I can't..."
"It's okay, Marcus. Just do it."
"Okay, Tiberius. Thank you. We will figure something out. The emperor said he would 'inspect his work' later, perhaps you can appeal to him then."
That sounded reasonable. However, Tiberius didn't *feel* reasonable. He felt... enraged. Full of furious energy. His whole body felt like it was on fire from within.
"Perhaps." Tiberius murmured, clenching his fists.
"How... how long was I unconscious?"
"Two days."
"Do you have any food?"
"Yes, the kitchen is well stocked. Let me get you something."
While Marcus fetched the food, Tiberius was left alone with his thoughts.
Being turned into a gladiator was pretty much a death sentence, at least for someone like Tiberius. He looked down on himself and looked at his lean, but not overly fit body. He wouldn't last ten minutes in the arena.
However, as he looked, the warm feeling inside of him intensified. Every breath he took in seemed deeper than the last, and every time he exhaled, his chest didn't recede all the way, as if his lungs were expanding with each breath.
When Marcus returned, he almost cried out: "Ma- Tiberius! What is happening to you?"
By now, his chest had barreled out considerably and his clothes felt tight. When he spoke, the added lung volume made his voice resonate somewhat deeper. "I don't know." He replied. "What is happening to me?"
"You... are growing."
"I know." came Tiberius frustrated answer. "It's like my chest is blowing up."
"It's not just your chest! Your shoulders, too."
It was difficult for Tiberius to look at his own shoulders, but he found Marcus was right: His shoulders had become considerably wider, and his arms were further apart then just minutes before.
"I feel like I'm growing. Growing stronger, I mean. My body feels so energized. I feel like I could smash that iron door with my bare hands."
"Well, perhaps you should try not to. This is some weird magic going on, no doubt." Despite his words, Marcus didn't just appear to be frightened. A certain ...interest was clearly audible in his voice, too.
Tiberius could hardly focus on it, though. His simple tunic felt even tighter as his arms and legs began to swell with strength and muscles. At the same time, his chest and shoulders expanded further and further, the fabric stretching beyond its limits. The seam of his tunic ripped, and the garment fell apart, leaving his torso naked.
"Fuck." Normally, it would be unlike Tiberius to curse like that, but now it came to him naturally. On the other hand, he found it more and more difficult to focus on the more complex thoughts, like *why* he was changing.
All of a sudden, an itching feeling spread quickly over his body.
"Gods, my armpits!" Cried Tiberius, scratching his underarms and sides.
"Let me see." Marcus quickly rushed closer, and indeed, small hairs began to grow out of the previously smooth pits. They didn't stop there, though. quickly, like a fire, the pelt of hair covered his bare chest and back, quickly spreading further north and south from there.
"Your face!" exclaimed the slave, before obviously getting an idea. He produced a small piece of polished silver and handed it to Tiberius, allowing him to see his own face change.
While before, his face had been lengthy, crowned by dark curly hair, he was changing quickly now. His skull reformed to a blockier appearance, radiating a form of rugged but outlandish and primitive manliness. Coarse stubble grew on his chin, and his curly hair straightened into strong spiky strands in an exotic blonde color.
This wasn't the face of a roman, Tiberius knew that. It was the face of a barbarian from the north, a member of the tribes of Germania. Confusingly, Tiberius didn't feel particularly disgusted by becoming some filthy animalistic barbarian from the north. Instead, he felt... pride? It was hard to find the right words, even more so, as his knowledge in Latin diminished to a heavily accented basis.
He looked back at Marcus, who was watching the whole process with big eyes. Well, not only big eyes, as Tiberius noticed. The excitement was clearly visible in the loin area of his clothing. That, in turn, was oddly exciting for Tiberius. The thought that he preferred female company was quickly diminishing as his own member grew. It wasn't just that his cock was becoming stiff, no. It was also becoming *bigger*. In Rome, a small cock was considered civilized. But Tiberius wasn't from Rome anymore. In Germania, a big fuckstick was something to be proud of! And proud he was.
It was impossible for Marcus not to realize the hefty tool Tiberius was now sporting.
"Tiberius, you..." he said, but again, Tiberius cut him off. "It's Torben." he said with his gruff accented voice. After a moment, he added: "I... like you Marcus. Really." He wanted to express more than that. He wanted to express gratitude that Marcus was there for him, and he wanted to express the deep fluttery feeling that was composed of both barely contained lust for the other man and emotional closeness, but Torben didn't know the words for that.
However, even though Torben lacked the words, it looked like Marcus understood him perfectly well. Still separated by the bars, he brought his face close to Torben's. So close they could feel each other’s breath. However, just as their lips parted, the door to the dungeon opened. Quickly, both men took a step back.
It was the emperor, a smug grin on his mouth.
"Ah, the artist. Although, you're not much of an artist now, are you? But don't worry. What you lack on status now, you'll make up in entertainment value for the people of Rome. Or..." he paused for a moment before continuing. "For me. In my grace I have decided to give you one. last. chance. Serve in my bedchamber for one week and you shall have your former body back and be exiled. Now that is a most generous offer, if you ask me."
Torben couldn't help himself and snorted.
"And what if I don't accept?"
"Why, you stay like that of course. And be eaten by lions, eventually, I suppose."
Torben looked at the emperor intensely. The offer wasn't that bad, he had to admit. Being with men wasn't a problem anymore for him, and a week wasn't that long. The only trouble was his burning hatred for that arrogant asshole. Nevertheless, it was his best shot at survival.
Torben was just about to agree, when his gaze fell on Marcus. Torben wasn't too bright, but he understood: If he returned to his old life, he wouldn't be attracted to Marcus anymore. Even more so, he would be exiled, without him. Torben might be strong as a bull, but the thought alone made his knees weak.
"No." he said firmly. "I stay. With Marcus."
Clearly, the emperor did not expect that. His expression changed from surprise to anger, and, after a few seconds, to an amused grin.
"My, aren't you a strong one. Even now you have the audacity to defy me. You realize I could just let you have executed right now?"
"Yes." Torben said, with his head held high.
"Ha. You really must like that slave boy. Fine, have it your way. Stay a gladiator, see how long you survive."
The emperor turned around and went for the door. When he reached it, he turned around once more.
"You know, it doesn't happen often, but every now and then a gladiator can earn back his freedom. I'll be delighted to see you try."
The closing door felt as if Torben's fate had been sealed. He looked to Marcus, unsure what to think, but the young man just smiled.
"Thank you.", he said, and closed in for that kiss. Life surely wouldn't be easy from now on, but Torben had a goal. He would fight for freedom, both his own and Marcus'.
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Hey, if you like Torben or Tiberius, check out my Tip Jar - There are many alternate versions of him!
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romanticaacore · 5 months
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This fic was inspired by the song "My Way of Life" by Frank Sinatra. I first thought of giving this to Jing Yuan because I can also see him in this theme but I couldn't resist Tartaglia. I'm just trapped under his spell. He is my whole world...!! ♥️
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"You're not just going to leave me here like this, are you?"
The man would come and find you every single day and would always keep you company. You did everything in your power to keep him at bay, to throw some weak excuse that you were busy. Heavens, there were times when you would flat out tell him that you did not want to be with him.
Tartaglia was a man who appreciated honesty. He valued good and true communication, he did not have the time and patience when it came to mind games, especially when it came towards the things and people that mattered to him.
And against his better judgment, you had managed to carve yourself deep into his heart. He did not understand how or why it happened, it just did. It was cruel, how you avoided him. It felt as though you grabbed a sharp blade and stabbed him straight into his chest, the air being knocked out of lungs every single time you would reject his advances.
But what stung most of all was the fact that you were as a matter of fact, not honest with him.
He could tell that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. If you truly wished to do nothing with him, you would be much harsher towards him. He knew you were not a pushover, you could take care of yourself and yet he still wished to take care of you. The lingering touches, the longing gazes, the way in which your hand fit so perfectly in his own was otherworldly. You were made specifically for him and him only. He could not have crafted a person so perfect, someone who both satisfies and calms him.
Someone who makes him feel human.
Reaching out towards you Tartaglia took your wrist and held it close. He pressed the palm of your hand against his chest, straight against his heart and he kept you there, his blue eyes piercing your own.
You belonged to him. He belonged to you.
He cursed the fact that he was a Harbinger. If he was not in the Fatui, he was sure that the two of you would already be together. That was the only reason you avoided him, the fear of being associated with someone like him was too great.
And he could not fault you for that.
Salty tears clouded your vision as you stared at the handsome man, his back straight like the soldier that he was. Everything about him was prim and proper, but in a deadly way, like a weapon ready for the bloodiest battle.
"You are a killer." you said, voice quivering and yet still giving into his touch.
"I am." he confessed. There was no point in denying it, he could not hide anything from you.
He did not want to hide anything. Not anymore.
Standing before you was not Tartaglia, Childe, the 11th Fatui Harbinger. In this very sacred moment he laid himself for you, his soul and heart bared completely for you and no one else. He was being selfish, so horribly selfish. But damn it all, he wanted you. His ambitions were sky high but he could not give you up.
He did not want anyone else by his side. It was going to be either you or no one.
His lips hovered over your own, threatening to steal the many kisses he promised to claim a long time ago.
You were not sure if you could stop him.
"You are not a creature capable of such love."
"I can learn. For you."
There it was, that horrible confidence, dare you say arrogance even. Who did he think he is? How dare he do this to you - waltzing in your life and staking his claim to your heart? You wanted to slap him, to kick him, to show him just how angry you were. You wanted to cry and yell and to kiss him. You wanted to leave him breathless, to make him ache for you but was it worth it? To leave everything you knew, your whole life behind to go see the world with this man, this glorious, wonderful man?
Knowing him, he would take your beating without any complaints.
It was hard to be in love. But it was even harder to love a man like him.
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daimyosprincess · 3 months
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AN HONEST DAY'S WORK
—PAIRING: Contractor!Boba Fett x F!Reader
—SUMMARY: You have a very special project you want your parents’ contractor, Boba Fett, to work on.
—WORD COUNT: 9k
—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, contractor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), reader described as having hair, Boba is a dirty old man and doesn’t mind saying so 😈, likely an excessive use of pet names by yours truly, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), squirting, cum eating, soft Boba 🥹, mentions of a shitty ex
Please let me know if I missed anything!
—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you @baufraus for slapping a tool belt on that old man, you’re doing the lord’s work 😌 Enjoy besties 💖
Divider by the @saradika
Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist
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What a pleasant thing to be woken up by your alarm, you think, stretching out in a luxurious full body stretch under your flowery covers. After a month and a half of what felt like constant construction right outside your window, waking to your buzzing alarm was a welcome relief from the jagged sounds of powertools and hard machinery. 
While you love your parents dearly, their desire to turn the backyard of your childhood home into a suburban oasis has been a less than pleasant experience for you. They certainly deserved to enjoy their retirement after putting you and your siblings through school, but the necessity of such renovations during your last year of your masters was dubious to you at best.
All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings. Even with the long hours of inescapable noise and constant stream of people in and around the house, you’re grateful to be there. And, if you’re completely honest, you’re also extremely grateful for the unexpected front row seat to watch the handsome contractor heading the whole operation. 
Boba Fett hasn’t left your thoughts since the day he arrived at your front door dressed in khaki cargo pants, a form fitting t-shirt, and a tool belt slung low across his hips. His perfect white smile and smoldering dark eyes left you speechless then and have continued to bedevil you ever since, winding your insides (and panties) into knots. The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least. Between his sparkling winks, dazzling smile, and delicious voice calling you “princess” and “sweetheart,” you haven’t known a moment’s peace—even when the crew finally went home in the evenings.
It’s all enough to drive you totally insane.
Lucky for him, however, it hasn’t. Staring up at the familiar ceiling above you, you smile: today is the day you will finally have your revenge. The contractor had teased and poked at you for weeks and you’d been powerless to do anything more than glower and huff at him due to the constant company of your parents and his crew. But now you have him all to yourself for an entire day with the house to yourself and his workers off—and you have no intention of showing him any mercy.
It’s been nearly two years since you’ve had anything close to what one could consider “action.” Between school and your research fellowship, you haven’t had any time to go to parties or bars or wherever adults are supposed to meet people to do it with. No, for two long years, it has been you and your vibrator against the world. 
Boba Fett is going to fix that.
After a quick shower and a punched-up version of your morning routine, you’re almost ready to set your plan into motion. Flicking through your closet, you decide on your favorite floral sundress with a pair of cute sandals. Now dressed, you smooth your hands down the light fabric, smiling at your reflection in the mirror; you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-
Heat flares in your belly at the thought of Boba’s large, work-rough hands pulling up the hem of your dress to kiss up your soft thighs, his tongue spelling out all the dirty, awful things he wants to do to you in your parents’ own home… his lips wrapping around that desperate, aching spot between your legs and making that burning need finally go away in an explosion of pent-up pleasure.
Fuck. You bite down hard on your lip to stop from hopping back beneath your covers and touching yourself to the rest of that particular fantasy. The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.
Taking a deep breath, you push away your lewd imaginings and check your phone. You have just enough time to grab your books and position yourself on the deck before Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter. 
With one last check in the mirror, you hurry towards your bedroom door only to stop short a second later. Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.
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Chancing a glance over the top of your unread book, you spy Boba leaning across a board and marking it with a flat drafting pencil. The suggestive slant of his hips and the sheen of perspiration on his brow made a slew of very suggestive images flood your brain. Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?
Boba had to be showing off. There’s simply no explanation for why he needed to carry that much lumber on his shoulder or measure that many things high enough for his gray t-shirt to ride up and reveal a tempting peek at the dark trail of hair leading into his jeans. And since when did there need to be so much drilling? He is sorely beating you at your own game, and that simply would not do—not when you need him so bad you’re scheming and panty-less in your parents’ backyard. 
“See something you like, princess?”
Kark. Shaking your head, you blink your eyes like you’ve been caught deep into your reading. “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”
He straightens, arching a brow as he dusts himself off. As you follow his hands across his strong torso and thighs you realize too late that your eyes have wandered to his crotch. Smirking, Boba runs a palm over his face to wipe away the sweat there. “Never mind that,” he chuckles, “Could I interrupt your ‘study session’ for something to drink?”
The audacity of this man! Scoffing at your (admittedly weak) attempt at school work like he hasn’t been putting on a show himself for the past hour and a half.
You’re not going to let yourself be beat at your own game. Plastering on a big smile, you answer in a honey-sweet voice. “Actually, my mom made some sandwiches and lemonade since you had to come by on your day off. Why don’t you freshen up and take a seat over here,” you motion to the couch across from you, “and I’ll be out with lunch in a couple minutes.” 
Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so. When you re-emerge a few minutes later with the promised food and drink, he’s spread out over the couch with a fresh shirt on and looking every bit as regal as a king on a throne. You suppose it’s only fitting that he calls you his princess when he thanks you for bringing out the meal.
Picking up a sandwich, Boba nods to your stack of readings on the side table. “Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”
You’re ready to give him some giggly, flippant reply but the genuine look of interest on his face stops you. For a stricken second you’re tongue tied by the thought of your parents’ hot contractor being genuinely interested in you as a person. Shimmering, unbidden fantasies float through your mind of Boba pulling out your chair for you on a date, the two of you sitting around a bonfire with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, him kissing the top of your head as he leaves for work in the morning. The images curl through the heat of your desire for him, mixing with the safe warmth and happiness he brings you.
Maybe…
You quickly scramble to answer before your imagination can run rampant and put dangerous thoughts of something more with him into your head. 
“Speech-language pathology and therapy. Originally I was doing special education but then I really enjoyed my communicative disorders class, so my professor helped me apply to an internship program that convinced me to change my concentration. I even got into the fellowship program in the speech lab at St. Mary’s this semester and-” 
You look up to see Boba staring at you so fondly that it makes your chest ache and your words evaporate into flushed smoke. “Oh, u-um, sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all that… basically, I’m studying ways to help people speak easier.” You take a long sip of lemonade to avoid saying anything else, mentally kicking yourself to get it together. You have a plan and you need to stick to it, no matter how tingly and fuzzy he makes your heart feel.
The couch creaks as Boba shifts forward to rest his forearms on his knees so he can meet your downcast eyes. “Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”
That same warm, shimmery feeling from before returns and you smile at him. “Thanks,” you murmur, wondering if it’s normal for his tenderness to make you want to get in his pants even more. You don’t care either way. Clearing your throat, you roll back your shoulders and lean back against the plump cushions. “Well I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got any more, uh, “measuring” to do.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he winks.
“Right.” He nods to his cleared plate. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Of course,” you assure him, “gotta make sure you keep your strength up for any… activities you might get up to.”
Boba laughs rich and deep as he pushes up from the couch. “You really are too good to me, princess.”
If only he knew just how good I can be.
The following hour passes in pleasant, if sexually charged, silence as both of you vie to make the other crack first. When he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing the thick wall of muscle and softer belly underneath, you finally decide enough is enough. If he’s playing dirty, you will too.
Reaching your arms above your head, you stretch and let out a suggestive groan that has Boba’s head snapping towards you. Of course, you pretend you don’t notice and continue your stretch, leisurely easing out your legs to their full length. With his eyes boring into you, you purposefully slide your knees up the couch cushions so the hem of your flowy dress rides dangerously high up your thighs. You can physically feel the tables turning in your favor, upper hand slipping from him to you in this one powerful, heady moment.
Tilting your head back to meet his burning gaze, you savor the feeling, watching through your lashes as his breath stutters in his chest. Then, taking your lip between your teeth, you slowly open your thighs, one, then the other, to reveal the glistening folds hidden between them.
For a brief second, it seems like he’s going to snap the board in his hands with the way his muscles strain against his shirt. When you moan a quiet little sound as you stretch again, he slams the wood down and stalks over you with his fists clenching.
Blinking up at him with siren eyes, you give him a sultry smile. “See something you like, handsome?” you mimic, reaching out to drag your fingers down his arm. 
He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-”
Before you can chicken out, you flip the front of your dress above your waist with your free hand. “About this?” 
Boba sucks in a sharp breath and stares for a long second, the muscles in his jaw working in tight feathers before he yanks your dress back down over your legs. “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”
As if you haven’t thought about this very thing for weeks on end, writhing and panting to the thought of Boba Fett doing every dirty thing to you that you could come up with. No, if anything, you need to stop thinking and start feeling everything your wicked thoughts had conjured up about this man.
“Boba, please,” you whine, the feel of his hand on your skin making your voice desperate, “I’m sure, I’m so, so sure I swear.” His grip tightens and you can sense he’s waiting to hear for something more concrete. “I’ve thought about you every day, every night… I want you, Boba. Please.”
“Fuck, sweetheart…” His skin burns against yours and he curses again, dropping your wrist and coming to his knees in front of you. “Tell me then,” he grunts, bracing himself between your thighs, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 
Pure, molten want burns in his eyes, igniting the desperate tinder of your desire. What didn’t you want him to do? You’ve dreamed about him taking you every possible way in every possible place, groaning your name and screwing you senseless. What could you say when you want everything he’ll give you? 
Luckily, your tongue has the answer your brain does not. “Kiss me,” you gasp, “Please kriffing kiss me.” 
And like he’d been waiting his entire life to hear you say those very words, he’s on you, pushing you back against the pillows and crashing his perfect lips against yours in a scorching fury. Your body welcomes his intensity, instinctually shaping itself around his strong hips and wide shoulders as you claw at him to get closer. Fuck, you’re already greedy for him, your skin thirsting for his and your pussy soaking your dress beneath it.
“W-wait,” you gasp, hating the way he immediately recoils even as you appreciate his caution. You don’t want to give Boba any reason to stop but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in the heat of things either. “I’ve never, um, well… I’ve never had… never with someone else.” You wince; your words sound even worse than they did tripping through your head. Anxiety pricks your heated skin—you want to bury yourself into his shirt and hide there forever.
Why did you bring this up? You should’ve just gone with it like before.
When he speaks, Boba’s voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Princess, baby, look at me.” He rolls the both of you up to a sitting position, giving you just enough space to pull away if you needed to while still being close. Gently taking one of your clenched fists into his large hand, he smooths your fingers out, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb. 
You sneak a peek at him. Gone is the hot fervor of passion that previously colored his features; now he’s a softer shade that beckons you into his comfort. 
“There she is,” he smiles, rewarding you with his own when you force your face up to his. The urgent tear of worry in your chest eases and you melt into his side. “Now, how about you tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?” 
“Really, it’s nothing,” you try, knowing it won’t work as soon as you say it. All you want to do is go back to him kissing the air out of your lungs and to have his fingers brushing over your soaked slit, but Boba isn’t going to let you off the hook. 
Damn him and his honorable ways.
Boba sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He lays his cheek on top of your head and wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Listen, if all this is happening too fast, if you want to stop here, we can. I won’t be mad, baby. Your first time should be with someone special, and if that’s not me then that’s alright.”
First time? Realization dawns on you a second later and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from your belly. Giggling, you arch up and give the confused man next to you a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, Boba, really. But that’s not what I meant.” A new kind of nervousness pools in your gut now, one that swirls with hot anticipation rather than cold dread. 
Grabbing his free hand for support, you look into the warm depth of his eyes as his fingers curl around yours. “What I was trying to say was that… well, that no one else has ever made me come before. I’ve made myself come plenty of times but,” yikes, did you have to say that?, “I’ve only been with one other guy and he never made me… I mean, I got close one time but he never actually made me finish.”
The concerned look on Boba’s face melts into a glorious laugh that rumbles your chest. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and kissing in between delighted gasps for air. A bright sense of joy permeates every cell in your body and you tuck it safely inside your heart. If this was your first time, you know that you’d want it to be with him. Maybe you’ll pretend this is your first time.
“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you’re worried about?” he finally sighs, his warm breath tickling your neck. You nod against him.
In one quick motion, Boba scoops you up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you to grab your ass through your dress. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm?” He groans into your ear when you shiver against him. “Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”
This time, you’re the one who slams your lips against his, stealing whatever dark, sweet words he had left from his tongue. You mewl into his open mouth as he rocks your bare core over the thick denim straining over his erection. The seam of his jeans catches your clit perfectly and you would have cried out loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear if Boba hadn’t held your face against his.
“Easy there, beautiful,” Boba chuckles, “we don’t need everyone knowing what we’re up to, not till we’re done anyways, yeah?” You hum in agreement and bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling his clean smell and the surprisingly attractive scent of a day’s work clinging to his skin. “Now, tell me about this boy before, did he make you feel good? Make you want to flash your bare cunt to him and beg him to take you where anyone could walk around and see?”
Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying. The only thing he ever made you want was for him to hurry up so you could go in the bathroom and finish yourself off. He had been nice enough, but, nice enough didn’t make your eyes cross and pussy wet. “He never, shit, he never…” you gasp as Boba grinds you harder against himself, “I had to beg him to eat me out and even then he complained about it every time.”
“Complained? Kark, princess, tasting you is all I’ve been able to think about for a month. In fact,” Boba grins wickedly, “I’d like to solve that problem right now, with your permission, of course.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lips like he’s preparing to enjoy the best meal of his life.
You can’t give him your permission fast enough.
Reaching behind his back, Boba tosses one of the decorative pillows from the couch onto the deck and slides down to kneel on it in front of you. “Why don’t you hand me another one of those,” he flashes you a smile and a wink, “My knees aren’t what they used to be.” 
“They didn’t seem to be a problem when you were putting on a show for me earlier,” you snark back, rolling your eyes for extra effect. “I hardly got any reading done with your whole construction worker performance going on.”
Boba tosses his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh that makes you glow for being its source. Grabbing your hips, he yanks you to the edge of the couch, making you squeal. “Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” He leans in, inching your dress up so he can brush his lips over the ticklish skin just above your knees.
“Wh-What are you talking about?” Your lashes flutter shut and you dig your nails into the cushions to keep your composure as Boba begins to pepper kisses up your thighs while his hands massaged what his mouth wasn’t on. “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?” 
Of course, your handsome contractor is exactly right but you’re not going to admit that.
Licking a stripe mere centimeters from where you want him most, Boba huffs a laugh into your damp skin. “All props, sweetheart. Your dress and flirty little smile gave it all away.” His hands travel to the back of your hips where he spreads them wide so you arch against him, bringing the top of your pelvic bone right to his mouth. “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”
Boba’s words feel like they’re coming through a wall of thick molasses, heavy and sweet as they are to your ears. All you can focus on is the heat of his breath whispering across the wetness he caused and how his lips feel ghosting against your soft flesh as he speaks. Kark, how are you supposed to think with him like this, kneeling for the very opportunity to put his mouth where you’ve dreamed it would be so many times? All that time trembling, aching, yearning for him and he was finally yours—at least for now—and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.
You bunch up the material of your dress in a fist and force your hazy eyes to focus on him. “Either way, it got me what I truly wanted,” you smile affectionately, “You.” 
An emotion flashes across Boba’s sun-bronzed face so quickly it feels like a secret to have seen it, something deep and tender, petal-soft and just as vulnerable. Something words couldn’t quite express and certainly not something he wanted to be seen. It made him feel so frighteningly human that you want to bury him in your chest and murmur all lovely things he makes you feel until he feels safe enough to let that emotion out of its closely guarded cage.
A second later, however, his usual cocksure expression is back in place. “Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”
You couldn’t have refused his request even if it wasn’t the hottest thing you ever heard, not with the way you’re so agonizingly ready that you’re literally dripping with arousal. “Boba, please. Need your-ooohh!” A searing shock of pleasure ricochets up your spine as his tongue swipes through the web of slick pooled in your slit. 
Your intense reaction spurs Boba on and he immediately dives into your core, jamming his face between your legs and groaning loudly as he inhales your scent. “Sweet as fucking cherry pie, baby. Shit, come here,” he growls, yanking you down so nearly your full weight is on his face. “I want you down my damn throat, you’re so delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”
You wish you could open your scrunched eyes to see the expression that matches his blissed out tone, but it’s impossible with the way his tongue is flicking through folds as he sucks up every drop of your slick like he needs it to live. Heat pumps through your veins, lighting you up until you’re sure you could replace the sun. In less than thirty seconds, Boba has made you feel more beautiful, more cherished than you ever felt in your entire life.
As your knees begin to buckle from the luscious intensity of his mouth, Boba tosses your right leg over his shoulder, balancing you across his face and giving him the perfect opportunity to flatten his tongue against your clit. You have to slap a hand across your mouth to keep from screaming when he starts a pace that has you riding his face with fervent abandon, your hand dropping your dress to clutch at the back of his skull for more pressure.
Boba moans and scrapes his teeth over your clit, making you squeal and jolt at the sharp sensation. “Fucking hell, girl, you really are dirty, aren’t you? I never should have waited to get my mouth on you. Lay down for me, I wanna feel that tight cunt squeezing my fingers while you make a mess on my face.”
As much as you don’t want to part with his mouth, the temptation to feel him stretching you out on his thick fingers, stroking all the places your own can’t reach, is too great to resist. Scrambling back onto the couch, you tuck yourself into the corner to give him the maximum amount of access to your trembling body. 
Boba grins up at you, his face up to his eyes shiny with your slick. “Howya feeling, sweetheart? Ready for me to make you see stars?”
In response, you just toss the fabric of your dress over your shoulder and roll your hips forward.
Boba was a man of his word, bringing you to the edge of orgasm once with mouth and hands then once more with his cock as took you from behind—you’re in actual tears with how good every single one of his movements feel. Every drag of his cock is pure pleasure, every touch of his hands delicious delight, and every kiss is incandescent bliss. You’re never going to be the same again.
“Oh, my filthy little girl,” he taunts, grabbing a handful of your tits as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, “what would your parents think, hmm? What would they do if they knew you let an old man bend you over the table they’ll eat off of? That you’re bouncing on his dick and begging him for more on their couch?”
“Oh, fuck! Boba!” A wave of liquid arousal floods your core, make the sound of him fucking into you even wetter. 
“Yeah? You like it when I talk like that, sweetheart? You like knowing that I’m going to own every part of you then send you back to them with a smile on my face and your cum leaking down my cock?”
Every single one of his sex-stained words sear into your skin, going straight to your throbbing clit. Every beat of your pounding heart brings you closer and closer to the bright brink of orgasm, every roll of his hips thrusting his length into that perfect spot inside you. Fuck he’s going to make me come if he keeps… fuck!
“Kark, baby, I can feel you squeezing me with that perfect tight cunt. Shit, you’re so-”
You can’t take it anymore. Falling forward onto his heaving chest, you dig your nails into the thick muscle there and start grinding your aching clit against him like some feral animal chasing their heat. 
Faster, harder, faster, fuck! Just like that, juuuust like that and you’ll feel that perfect fucking release, just a little more and…
Boba stills his bucking hips and halts your rocking.
You howl, clawing at his unmoving body. “No, please!” you sob, “I’m so close, please don’t stop now!”
Boba shushes you with the press of his mouth. “Shh, you’ll get what you want, baby, I promise you. But if I'm gonna be the first man to make you come, I’m gonna make it much more memorable than that was going to be.”
The thought of anything more than the building pleasure thrashing in core was unimaginable. How on earth could it be better than him balls deep inside you hitting your g-spot like it’s what he was made for? Never in your wildest dreams had you felt this good, even when you had hours alone to tease yourself before riding out the wave of your orgasm. If there was anything greater than this pleasure you’re not sure you would survive it—not with your mind intact, anyways.
Sliding his hands under your slicked thighs, Boba swings his legs off the couch and stands with a huff, keeping himself sheathed inside you. You grind into the fabric of his shirt until gives your ass a firm swat and you a stern warning to behave, which you’re too desperate to test. He walks the pair of you over to the large, oak table and plops you on top of it. The rich grain is supple and smooth on your bare skin, and Boba eases your back flat against it as he kisses and gropes across your body.
“Alright, princess,” he pulls away slightly to rest his damp forehead on yours, “I need you to do something for me, okay?”
Brushing your hands down his neck and shoulders, you’d promise him anything he asked. “O-okay, Boba.”
He peppers a few kisses on your tear-stained cheeks before continuing, letting his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace. “When I tell you to, I want you to release all your muscles and completely let go. Don’t hold anything in, alright, babygirl?”
You’re not sure where he’s leading you but you have complete faith in the fact that it’s going to be mind blowing. You give him your affirmation and he presses a small kiss on your lips.
“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.” 
You’re in such a hurry to comply that you get frustrated by the straps of your dress and bra, to which Boba chuckles and makes quick work of them, dragging the material down until your chest was bared for his mouth to claim. He curses when you press the soft flesh of your breasts together, moaning when your fingers brush over your pert nipples. For a minute he just watches you revel in the pleasure of your own hands, fucking yourself shallowly on him as you pluck and caress the sensitive skin beneath your fingers. 
Boba is a man entranced, his dark eyes glassy with want. Under his reverential gaze, you feel so desired, so utterly divine, like you’re his own personal goddess—he stares down at you as your most pious devotee who longs for nothing more than to feel the blessing of your body and the joy of your bliss.
“Boba…” you whisper duskily. He leans into your outstretched hand and you pull him into your arms with a crushing kiss.
As if he can read exactly what you need, he hikes your leg over his hip and begins a pace of snapping thrusts that has your entire body bouncing with their bruising force. “Pretty baby, precious girl, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he pants into your neck, pressing his lips there to taste the salt of your skin, “Been dying to take care of you like this, sweetheart. Watching you work so hard, leaving early and coming back late… you’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”
With the way he’s hitting every single sweet spot that makes you feel like a woman, all you can manage is a breathy affirmative and a few warbling words. “Y-yes, Boba, w-wanted you s-so bad. Thought-thought about you every n-night. Ohhhh fuck!”
 Boba lifts your hips and guides your legs to lock around him, giving him a mind-shattering angle as he drives into your wet heat. After swallowing down your cries of pleasure with a searing kiss, he wraps his large hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he continues. 
“So loud, aren’t you, princess? No, I like that, I like hearing how good I make you feel, like knowing I’m the only one who has you making these sweet fucking sounds.” Leaning back, he trails his free hand up your calf, letting it follow the curve of your thigh and giving your ass a smack that makes your eyes roll back. “Because I’m the only one who makes you feel like this, the only one who can make this perfect pussy soak and come. You just needed a real man to give you what you needed, huh, sweetheart? Come on, answer me and I’ll make you scream.”
Every nerve in your body is lighting up, every neuron in your brain firing with blinding pleasure. The voice that claws its way from your throat is wrecked and ragged, gasping and begging for more, more, more. The heat and pressure building in your core is volcanic, and you absolutely need it to burn you alive. Only then could you shed the weight of everything that came before and become the beautiful thing Boba is crafting with every sinful word and scalding caress.
“That’s it, just like that, pretty baby,” Boba grunts in praise when you start chasing his thrusts with your own. “Take what you need, what you deserve. Use my cock… I’m all yours, all fucking yours, princess.”
You can’t see him behind your scrunched eyelids, but you can hear the sincerity laced through his words like a shining vein of shimmering gold. The images of him wrapping his arm around you at campfire, settling you into your chair on a date come flashing back, play across your mind with such visceral clarity you could almost reach out and touch them. There was so much warmth to this man, so much untapped softness and care underneath his rough-hewn exterior that you want so karking bad you can taste it hot on your tongue. You want him loving you, fucking you, caring for you every single day from now until forever. Most urgently, however, you want him to mark your very soul with his in an orgasm so intense you leave your body.
“B-boba, Boba, please! I’m so close, I-I want you so bad! Please!” you beg between his fingers over your mouth as your hands paw at his sweat-slicked skin. 
“I got you, babygirl, I got you. Come here.” Boba crushes his mouth against yours, licking your taste onto his tongue with a moan. When he finally breaks your kiss, his cheeks are flushed with carnal color and his eyes are glazed with devoted fervor. “Remember what I said before, sweetheart? About letting go, releasing all your muscles?” 
You bob your head, biting into your lip to keep your focus on his face. 
“Good. I’m going to count down from ten then I want you to do just that, okay? Can you do that for me? Let me hear you say you understand.”
As if you wouldn’t kiss the very ground he walks on with how good he’s making you feel. “I-I understand.”
He beams at you, a diamond drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”
Burning ecstasy explodes inside you, snapping your muscles taunt and clamping down on the thick length rocking into you. How can you possibly feel this good, this fucking amazing and you’re not even coming yet? You don’t even remember where you are at this point, only that Boba’s on top of you and his dick’s inside you.
Gagged and bleary-eyed with tears, you arch into his touch when his calloused fingertips find your pulsing clit.
“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Boba’s fingers slide back and forth across your sopping folds with delicious speed, the pressure of his hand singing the glorious feeling into your bones.
“Seven. Six. Five.” His angle changes just slightly so his thrusts aim up towards your belly. Tears run down your temples into your hair and you know you have to be screaming around your spit-soaked dress.
“Four… three…” 
Stars begin to explode in cataclysmic bursts of light as everything in your body tightens into a ball of pure energy. If you could think beyond the primal sensation you would worry that you might literally die with how hard your heart is thundering in your chest.
Boba presses a hand on your lower tummy and everything snaps into stark relief: you can feel every cell in your body, every atom of being as all the light inside you floods to core. 
“Two…” His voice is sabled sin, luscious smoke dripping onto your burning skin in hot, fat drops. “One. Let go, baby, let go of everything.” 
His thrusts, his fingers, his hand pressing into you, everything melts into one caldecent elixir that pours directly into your deepest parts and washes you down to your most tender parts. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t feel anything more, the final dam inside you breaks. Liquid heat washes through you, roaring through your body with all the force of every desire you’ve ever had being met in one singular, perfect moment.
 The waves crashing into you feel so real that it feels like you're soaking through your skin into a puddle of your own arousal.
“Oh, fuuuuck, princess, that’s it…” Boba’s voice strains through clenched teeth and torrid control, the last shreds clinging just barely to his skin. “Fuck yes, you’re f-fucking soaking me, I can’t-shit-I c-can’t… baby, princess, beautiful girl…” 
Your whole world is so soft and warm and full of him that you can’t think a mortal thought, but you know that you have to see the look on his face as he pants and karking whines as his thrusts dissolve into sloppy rutting. With the last of your remaining strength, you peel your wet lashes apart as you shakily tilt your head up. Everything is blurry and rose-hued, and… wet? You try to blink away the clouds in your vision but the bright sheen coating everything below your waist doesn’t disappear.
Seeing your confusion, Boba breaks out into a devilish grin that turns up his flushed cheeks. “See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?” he puffs out, breaking your gaze to drop his chin to chest. His brows knit together in concentration as if he’s hanging on the very last sliver of restraint. 
You can only watch in downey bliss as he scrapes his hand down your belly to swipe his fingers through the wet rivulets trailing down your thighs, transfixed as he brings them dripping to his swollen lips. When the first finger disappears into his mouth, his eyes roll back and his dick throbs inside your ruined pussy. Realization slams into you watching him lap your juice from his palm like sweet nectar, his arms and shirt damply glinting in the sunlight.
I did that, I made him… holy fucking shit did I-
“Fucking hell, babygirl, I want you to squirt all over me every single kriffing day until I die,” Boba hisses, his wrecked rasp one second away from cracking. “Look like a fucking queen, my queen, lying there s-soaked and gorgeous- aaaahh!”
The revelation that you came so hard on his thick, perfect cock that you blacked out a little and squirted to the point Boba was completely soaked, all on your parents’ dining table makes you sob in pleasure and bare down on him with another blinding orgasm. Your fingernails scrape across the wood grain as you flail mindlessly, your back arching up as your head slams back against the table. This climax isn’t as powerful as the first but it still slings you out into the stars, spinning and tumbling through an aurora of colors and light. 
The sudden emptiness of your cunt is replaced by hot ribbons slicing across your belly, pulling you out of the stars and back into your body. You’ve never had anyone come on you before—you had always insisted on a condom with your ex—and it feels impossibly erotic, almost degrading but in the best possible way; not like Boba didn’t care enough about you not to do it but that he was so out of his usually controlled mind with pleasure that he couldn’t help it. Pleasure that you brought him, pleasure he found in you.
You’re reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin, to know that all of this was real, that he wasn’t going to fade away into a dream. Boba leans forward catching himself on the edge of the table while he sucks in breath after shaky breath. He looks so beautiful fucked-out and soft, his usual sharp edges sanded down into a smooth sea glass that reveals a glimpse of his soul.
Eventually he stills and peeks up at you, watching you with adoring brown eyes. He whispers your name, warm and gentle, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He straightens up and reaches back to pull his t-shirt over his head to mop up your stomach and the liquid pooled between your thighs. His shoulders work in glorious exertion, and you watch in awe at the way his skin ripples with his silent strength. 
Finished, he tucks the garment under his arm and eases your dress from your mouth and rearranges it back over your body, murmuring to wait right there. As if you would want to be anywhere other than here with him.
Boba isn’t gone for long, reappearing at your side with a flannel and a water bottle. He’s wearing a white tank top that fits snugly over his broad chest in such a way that it makes you consider seducing him for another around—if you only had the energy to do so. He coos over you, softly instructing you to lift your arms so he can remove your ruined dress. You happily float along, allowing him to undress you and curl you against his chest on the couch with his flannel laid over you for comfort. It smells of him, rich and warm, and he presses the water bottle to your lips. After several greedy gulps, you pull back and tuck your face into his neck, humming with satisfaction.
The two of you doze for a lazy hour, wrapped up in each other while the afternoon breeze pleasantly tinkles the windchimes on the deck.
Eventually, though, you have to break to clean and reclothe yourself. When you amble back outside, Boba has finished wiping down the table with cleaner and a rag from his truck.
“There she is,” he grins, “how’s my pretty princess feeling?”
“Amazing… a little wobbly,” you add truthfully. You’re not sure if your bones will ever fully resolidify after this. Boba opens his arm and you press yourself against him, relishing his touch while you still have it. You don’t want to think about him leaving. “What about you?”
It’s like he can sense your unease and he pulls you closer, placing a kiss into your hair. “Never been better, you were… kriff, you were amazing, baby. Filthy, perfect, wet… and soft, so so soft,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, “like you were made just for me.” 
He leans in to kiss you but stops when he sees the sullen look on your face. Cocking a brow, he lifts up your chin on two fingers. “What’s that look for?”
You can’t look at him. This is the part where he says goodbye and things go back to normal, where you part ways and pretend like this never happened. He’d be back day after day to finish the backyard, a sore reminder of what you desperately want but will never have. Why couldn’t you just let this be a fun fuck and let it go? Why did your heart have to ache for his?
“I-” you swallow the warble in your voice. “I, um… I don’t want to hold you up if you have another job or something after this.” You’re a big girl, you don’t need him to stay and prolong the inevitable—better to rip it off quick like a band-aid. You toss your head towards the table. “Thanks for cleaning up.”
Boba studies you silently, a frown shadowing his handsome features. Every second that passes with you in his arms has your resolve weakening more and more; too much longer and you’ll shatter against his chest.
“I don’t have anything after this…” He pauses, mulling over his words for a tense moment before continuing. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, sweetheart, talk to me, if there’s anything I can do to-”
“No!” You break free from his embrace, hot tears of frustration beading behind your eyes. The last thing you want to do is hurt him but the longer he stays the more it’s going to tear you apart later. Boba steps back, giving you space and your heart twinges in your chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong, really. It’s just…” 
Blowing out a quivering sigh, you force yourself to look him in the eye—he at least deserves that. “It’s just that I don’t like this part, especially with how amazing and wonderful you were. You are. I think it’s just better if we don’t draw this out.” Once again, your eyes drop with the weight of the fast-approaching future.
The following silence is almost unbearably thick, the air congealing to a sodden, soupy haze in your lungs. How could this hurt this much already?
Boba rubs his fingers over his lips thoughtfully, his tan forehead creasing. “Princess… it’s better if we don’t draw ‘what’ out?”
Maker, he is really going to make you say it. No, it wasn’t enough to have made you come so hard you literally soaked the both of you, you have to admit you’re falling for a man twice your age that you’ve known for a month, too. It would be easier to make yourself hate him for that but you can’t bring yourself to confess and do that in the same breath. 
Folding your arms over your chest, you force your focus back on his face. “Boba, I… I know this was just for fun and I’m sorry for making this weird but it would be easier for me if we didn’t pretend this isn’t a goodbye. Like I feel nothing for you. Like you won’t show up here tomorrow like you didn’t fuck me right into my soul in my parents’ backyard.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers curling into tight fists. “Please, just go.”
You can hear Boba shift and you crack open an eye to see him looking at you with longing deep enough to drown in. Finally, he says your name in a voice streaked with a vulnerable emotion you’d never seen him display. “Babygirl, I want you to listen to me, okay? I don’t know how that boy treated you before, but this was never a one time thing to me. I’m far too old to lay down with a woman I don’t intend on having by my side the next day, and all the days after that.” 
Hope seizes your chest as his words settle into you. 
Slowly he moves in front of you, taking your hands in his and gently rubbing them loose like he did before. “Now I’m no poet, sweetheart, I’m just a simple man making his way through life. I can’t make this sound as beautiful as you deserve, but I need you to know that I would never ever do anything to hurt you. I know it’s only been a month but kark, baby, I want you. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and hear your voice when I call you at lunch. I want to bring you tea while you study and make sure you don’t work yourself too hard. Most of all, though, my beautiful girl, I want you to be mine… because I’m already yours.”
The entire world shifts beneath your feet and you collapse into Boba’s waiting arms. When you bury your face into his shoulder, you pinch your thigh to make sure this was all still real. “D-do you,” your voice shakes, your joy threatening to overwhelm you, “do you really mean it?”
He kisses the top of your head and gingerly tilts your face up, caressing the swell of your cheek. “I’ve never been more serious, princess,” he smiles tenderly, “I want to make you mine. If you’ll have me, of course.”
You can’t help the choked laugh that burst from your chest. Pulling him closer, you meet his lips and throw everything you want to say into your kiss, sealing your sentiment into him with the press of your mouth. As much as you want to get lost in his sweet embrace, though, you break to give him an actual answer. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” you giggle breathlessly into him between more kisses. “In fact, I want you to make me yours over and over and over…”
But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” 
“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.” You bite your lip playfully and wiggle your brows at him. Now that the oppressive cloud of doubt has lifted from your mind, you feel positively giddy.
Boba smacks your ass again making you squeal in surprised delight. “Now I want you to go upstairs, pick up that cute little dress you ruined, and bring it to me.”
Your breath catches at his dark, delicious tone and you blink up at him, confused—and definitely turned on. “W-Why?”
Boba spins you around to face the house then wraps an arm around your middle to pull you back against his rising chest. “Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”
His salacious request goes straight to your still-swollen clit and you scurry to your room before you can lose your nerve. When you return, you find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression smug at your obedience. Where your desire to sass him might have been at such pompousness, however, is filled with warm bashfulness as you shuffle over to him. He stretches out the hand that had, until very recently, buried between your legs. Biting your lip, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him as your cheeks burn with aroused embarrassment. 
“Ah ah ah, let me see those pretty eyes, sweetheart,” he tuts. “Let me see that sweet look on your face when you give me the dress I made you squirt all over.”
Heat scalds through you, your heart pumping hot desire into your veins as you drag your eyes to meet his dark ones. Boba takes the dress almost reverently from your hand then brings it up to face and inhales deeply, his eyelids fluttering shut. He groans into the material, desire scraping the sound raw. 
Fuck how are supposed to keep your hands off him long enough to get anything done ever again?
Before you have time to jump his bones, however, Boba’s phone rings loudly, making you jump. He huffs in annoyance and unhooks his phone from his toolbelt. “Sorry, princess, gotta take this.” 
He answers the call, but opens up his arm so you can lean against him. As he talks, his fingers trail up and down your hip, tracing absent-minded patterns that make you glow with affection. The way his body responds to yours, his subconscious little touches, they all confirm his declaration—you’re so happy you might float away if not for his hold on you. All your problems seem far away at the moment and you’re content to leave it that way, if just for now.
When Boba hangs up, he pulls you close to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That was another client of mine,” he explains with a sigh.
You pout. “So you have to go?” 
“Unfortunately.” Kissing you again, he swipes his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, you know I’d much rather be with you. my pretty princess. Can I call you tonight?”
“Of course,” you smile. You enter your number into his phone and send yourself a text. “There. Now you’ll know it’s me.”
Looking down at the collection of suggestive emojis and hearts following your name, Boba lets out a hardy laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, sweetheart.” When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.
Once he’s pulled away in his truck, you realize he left his flannel on the couch. Pulling it around your shoulders, you decide that if Boba could still put in an honest day’s work after fucking you senseless, then you could at least get some actual studying in. After all, your night is already booked.
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nexysworld · 1 year
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Guardian Angel 🖤 Part 1 🖤
Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Masterlist
Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 4.1 | 4.2| 4.3
Summary: Leon was your regular friendly neighbor, always helping you out. He’s just a nice friendly guy. Simple as that… or so you thought. As his obsession with you increases you'll soon learn just what type of man your seemingly friendly neighbor truly is.
🖤Pairing: Yandere!Leon/Fem!Reader 
🖤Tags (not all apply to all chapters): NSFW, Masturbation, Dubcon, Sex, Gaslighting, canon typical horror and gore descriptions, probably eventual kidnapping or kidnapping like behavior, use of pet names like bunny. Will add more tags as the story goes on
@hxllfiredoll Gave me Yandere!Leon brainrot, so here we go! I picture at least RE4R Leon in this. Let’s a gooooooo! 
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Leon had changed since the events of Raccoon City. He was no longer the bright eyed rookie cop who had the whole world ahead of him. Now he was in a much darker place, he’d seen the worst the world had to offer and he was not impressed. This world was no place for someone as perfect as you.
He felt like you were his flower trapped in a glass à la Beauty and the Beast, and without him there the glass would be removed by the world, each petal plucked from you until soon there’d be nothing left of his flower. You needed him obviously. What would you do without him? 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
You didn’t know much about Leon, he was your neighbor and kept to himself mostly. You knew he worked for the government, but didn’t know what that entailed. You knew he was beyond handsome, but awkward as hell, at least from what you observed. You remembered coming up the stairs to your shared apartment building and the girl from apartment 202 had cornered him. Despite her best efforts and subtly hitting on him, she was met with a solid, “ok.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone escape behind a door faster than watching his honey blonde hair bounce with the speed of his movements. The next time you saw him you ran straight into him because you weren’t paying attention, dropping all of your grocery bags.. “Oh god I’m so sorry.” You said, reeling from how knocking into him was like hitting a wall with how built he was. “Hey, it's ok, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” He said. “Here let me help you with that.” Effortlessly he managed to pick up all of your bags and carry them to your apartment for you. “Thanks Leon.” “Don’t worry about it.” He gave you a quick smile before leaving. Really you thought Leon was just a naturally caring guy. I mean not all guys who are ridiculously good looking are assholes, right? That’s just a stereotype, and Leon would prove that to you often. It seemed like Leon was always somehow there to help you, with friendly neighborly gestures. Out of sugar? Sure you can borrow his. Laptop not working? Don’t worry he’s good with electronics. Furniture needs moving? Well it’s a good thing he’s strong. Really Leon was one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met. He just exudes a sense of friendly trustworthiness that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was his soothing voice, or those steely blue eyes that you tried not to get lost in when you’d speak with him. Sometimes you’d find yourself inventing problems in order to speak with him and ask for help. You chalked it up to a little crush, nothing more than that. You wouldn’t allow it to be so, you had a boyfriend already, plans for the future. You weren’t the type of girl who’d throw that all away for some hot guy. Besides, Leon didn’t like you like that anyway, if he did you're sure you would know. He’s just a nice friendly guy. Simple as that. 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
Leon thought about you a lot. When you’d leave he’d work his brain to remember the lingering scent of your floral perfume, the way you shyly tucked your hair out of your face when you talked with him. Most importantly that adorably sweet voice that ran like honey through his ears. He couldn’t believe such a little bunny like you lived right next to him. So sweet. So cute. So needy. Always knocking on his door for one thing or another. Under normal circumstances he would find himself irritated with the outside intrusion. When Leon wasn’t at work he liked to disassociate from life, what else was the point? Fight the bad guys. Go home. More pop up. Repeat. The world wasn’t kind, it wasn't fair. There was no point in anything else. But then you moved in. The girl next door. You became the point, the pinnacle of his future. His salvation. His new purpose. 
Slowly Leon began to notice that you needed his help more than you even realized. How did you even survive before meeting him? He began to follow you home from work, just to make sure you were safe of course. You were just a little hazard to yourself honestly. You didn’t look both ways before crossing the empty roads. You kept your social security card in your purse (don’t ask how he knows that.) You were too much of a people pleaser to avoid the strangers who’d stop to talk to you. Too dumb to know better than to wear such short little skirts out in public. 
Even worse was your home defense, I mean it took almost nothing for Leon to get into your apartment while you were away, and you certainly didn’t notice the little changes he made. Like the tiny cameras seated within your potted plants, the eye of the teddy bear you kept on your nightstand. You left your laptop open right on the kitchen counter! He didn’t even need to use his government equipment to get into your stuff. One hour of his time and all of a sudden all your texts and emails were popping up on his own secondary phone, your social media, everything.
 Stupid, stupid little bunny. The only thing worse than your ability to protect yourself was that hoity-toity upperclass hipster you called a boyfriend. Leon simply couldn’t fathom how some saucy fuck boy like that could work his way into your pure heart. He’d spent hours going through all your DM’s and texts with this man. He simply could not see the appeal. He treated you like you were too stupid to understand his profound pretentious thoughts and opinions. You were too good for scum like him. You needed a real man, you deserved a real man. 
Luckily for you, Leon was a real man. And now he found his new purpose in life was to keep you safe, keep your petals attached. You were so lucky Leon found you, he was going to give you everything you’d ever need. You’d never have to worry or think again. 
Leon had intended to do things the right way too, take things slowly. Really he did. He didn’t want you afraid of him, no he was going to be your prince, your knight in shining armor. He spent countless nights thinking of all the ways he could rid your boyfriend from existence so he could slip inside your heart and clean up the mess that was left. 
He thought of your gorgeous face, the cute little blushes you try to hide when you’re around him, how red your face would be if he finally took the plunge and asked you out. Or maybe he’d be more dramatic, going directly in for a kiss, running his tongue over your bottom lip, teasing you. Oh how precious his little bunny was.
Despite it taking every ounce of self control, Leon was determined to take things slowly, well he was trying anyway, you weren’t making this very easy, especially with the noises he was hearing from his computer. He lifted the laptop up so he could set it on the nightstand next to him. He clicked on the thumbnail of your room to blow up the image, and there you were splayed out putting on a show just for him - not that you knew that of course. 
There you were in all your glory, back arched into the mattress as you worked the toy in and out of your sopping hole with one hand while the other danced around your clit at a steady pace. Your face was flushed, lip bitten and eyes closed as you generated your pleasure. You looked so serene and ethereal, like a goddess of pleasure that he could worship. Leon felt his cock harden in his boxers, he pulled himself out and lazily stroked himself while he watched you. This was nothing new, something he’d done many times…that was until he heard your voice. “Nnng Leon…” He blinked at the screen for a moment, frozen as you softly chanted his name like a prayer. That, that was new. He knew you liked him, but he’d never seen you get off to him before. You were always such a good little girl, devoted to your future ex-boyfriend. The sound caught him so off guard he almost finished by your voice alone. He released his cock from his hand so he could grab the pair of panties of yours he kept in his nightstand, he wrapped them around his cock and continued to jerk himself while he watched you, jerking himself in rhythm with the way you toyed with yourself. He sped up when it looked like you were close, aiming to finish when you did. The second you let out a final scream of his name he felt the pleasure burst from his cock as hot ropes of cum spilled onto the laptop screen and his leg. “Don’t worry baby.” He said to the screen. “I won’t make you wait much longer for the real thing. My sweet little bunny shouldn’t have to work so hard to feel good.”
With that little scene before him, his resolve crumbled. Clearly going slow was a mistake, you needed him so badly in more ways than one. He was going to show you just how safe you are with him, how good he’ll be able to make you feel.
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
“Hey Derek, are you okay?” You asked as your boyfriend doubled over in the middle of the alleyway. “Yeah, just drank too much I think.” He said as the rest of his dinner came up along with what looked like blood. Under the dim lamplight you noticed that his skin was shining with sweat and there were spiderwebs of veins that looked pure black as they creeped along his skin. “D-derek…I really think we should get you to a hospital.” You said worriedly, putting your hand on his back. He spun around in a fury. “Don’t fucking touch me, I said I’m fine!” His eyes were a deep red and almost looked like they were glowing in the night. You backed away a few steps nervously. This was like a scene from a horror movie, surely it wasn’t real right? Maybe it was a prank? You gently reached out with a shaky arm to him. “H-hey, it’s gonna be alright.” He grabbed your wrist and yanked you harder than you thought possible before slamming you against the brick wall of the alley. He snarled in a way you’d never seen a human do before. “Stop, this isn’t funny.” You pleaded with him, but they fell on deaf ears. Desperately you fished around in your pocket until you found the pocket knife you kept in there. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll have to use it.” You threatened as your hand shook with tremors. The black veins had reached all over his face now, he snarled again leaning in with an open mouth indicating his intention to bite the flesh from your skin. In a scared panic you jammed the knife directly into his neck, he dropped to the ground and you ran to the end of the alley, tears welling in your eyes.
You stood staring at his body as it layed there on the ground twitching. You fished for your phone to call 911, but remembered you had forgotten it at home before your date. Fuck. You thought to yourself as you tried to ponder your next steps. Your thoughts were cut short though when you heard a disgusting sound, like flesh being torn apart, bones breaking. You looked over and saw something beginning to protrude from his face and neck. Worms? Tentacles? You weren’t sure. Surely you must be hallucinating right now, having a psychotic break. There was no other explanation for this.
You took one step forward, then another, and another until you were back in front of his body. Within seconds your face was splattered with blood as whatever it was bursted out entirely from his neck. You could see all the deformed features of his face while they danced in a mix of tentacles that were waving before you. You felt sick. You felt frozen. A gunshot rang out, and your boyfriend’s body slumped back to the ground, tentacles and all. The world became dizzy, the alley turning upside down, a voice you couldn’t make out. Someone stood over you, but you couldn’t see who as your head rattled. The next thing you knew you were out, slipping into the black void of unconsciousness. 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
Leon had worked out the fastest plan to get rid of your future ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t hard for him to get a sample of the Plagas virus that the lab had been storing and it was even less difficult to inject it into the man. Of course the cleanup was a bit of a pain, blaming a DSO researcher who lived nearby, framing it on them. But when you want something done right, you gotta put a little effort in, ya know? Anything for his little bunny. Leon kept a close eye on you, closer than usual. His goal was only to frighten his little rabbit, not let her get killed or hurt more than was required. He saw the virus taking effect instantly, and noticed the odd ticks that would occur during your dinner date. Your own future ex-boyfriend and you didn’t even notice a change in his behavior until it became so obvious. He trailed you to the alleyway, hiding behind the dumpster as the scene played out. It hurt him to see you so scared. Truly it did, but you needed this. He couldn’t believe you actually walked back over to the body. See little bunny? That’s exactly why you needed Leon. The second Derek’s corpse was back on his feet, Leon drew his gun before sending a single, and final, lethal shot sending the Plagas back to the ground. He walked forward and caught you just as your body went slack. “Don’t worry sweetheart. I got you.” He said tossing you over his shoulder and into his car. His timing was perfect. He’d arrived back at the apartments just in time for the outside lights to be turned off both in the parking garage and external hallways. Carrying you to your apartment without being seen was a cakewalk. You made it even easier by staying unconscious the whole time Leon washed you up and tucked you into bed. He made sure to hide all evidence of your bloodied clothes, and of your now dead ex-boyfriend. Of course the DSO wouldn’t want the public to know that any kind of outbreak occurred, no matter how small, which meant that Derek had to disappear entirely. The government would take care of his family and friends, but you, you were all Leon’s to handle. He was nothing if not thorough to be sure, deleting any social media post, text, call log, anything at all that involved the man you once knew. Before he left your apartment, he leaned over and placed a small kiss on your forehead before slipping back over to his own apartment before the crack of dawn. Leon waited patiently for hours. Excruciating hours while you remained in your unconscious state. He knew you were about to wake though when he saw your face scrunch up on the camera, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. 
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
You shot up in a panic. “Derek? Derek!” You shouted as your head pounded, your heart beat was so loud it resounded in your ears. You were more confused when your bedroom came into view and someone was sitting on the end of your bed. . . Leon? “What the —” “Hey sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said softly, moving towards you arm out like he was approaching a scared animal. “I heard you screaming and you didn’t answer the door so I let myself in just to make sure you were okay.” It took a few moments to process his words before you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh god, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I was just having a bad dream.” “Sounds like it.” He said softly, and there they were those endless blue eyes, instantly instilling comfort in you. “You sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I just…it was a nightmare that Derek died and…” She shuddered again. “Derek? Who’s that?” Leon asked, tilting his head. “A family member?” You gave him a confused look. Leon knew who your boyfriend was, they’d even met in passing once when he dropped you off at home. “No, Derek, you know him, my boyfriend?” “Derek? I don’t know anyone by that name, I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.” He said with a soft laugh. Your eyebrows knitted together in a v-shape, more confused than ever. Maybe Leon just forgot? Maybe he was just joking with you? You reached over and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You thought maybe giving him a call would help ease your mind, and maybe showcase to Leon you did in fact have a boyfriend. You swiped through your messages but didn’t see the text thread. You tried your snapchat, nothing. Instagram DMs, nothing. None of your threads or his accounts showed up at all. “What the fuck.” You said to yourself, hands beginning to tremble. “Is everything okay?” Leon asked softly. “Yeah I just…” You furiously swiped through your contacts and Derek wasn’t there. You tried calling his number. “Sorry the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or no longer in service.” Something felt very wrong. You launched out of bed to your closet and dug through your old shoe boxes like a madwoman, ripping the lid off to dig through your polaroids that you had. Every single one with Derek, gone. You turned to face Leon, new tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck is going on.” You asked mostly to yourself. Leon walked over to you and ran a thumb over your cheek soothingly. “Hey, hey, calm down. Calm down. What’s wrong?” He asked softly. “What do you mean what’s wrong? Derek’s gone, everything is gone!? I was with him in the street and he died and now…now he’s just gone the pictures are gone…” You weren’t making a lot of sense trying to explain to Leon what you were talking about. Were you having a psychotic break? No way, the memories you had were real, how can you just imagine a decade of memories!?
~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~
His plan was working. Not even moments after you woke up you were already connecting your thoughts and memories to a person who no longer existed. He knew the more you pushed about this, the more lost you’d become. He wasn’t usually one for gaslighting, but he’d use any tool at his disposal for you. Don’t worry little bunny, the pain wouldn’t last long. Leon was here for you. He walked over and wrapped his strong arms around you in the tightest hug he could give you. He shushed you and rubbed your back while you sobbed. “Hey, hey it’ll be okay. It will be okay, why don’t we get you back to bed.”
He led you back to the mattress, running his fingers through your hair while you laid down. “Shhhh. Shhh.” He cooed, tucking you in tightly. When he turned to leave your arm shot out to his. “W-wait. If you don’t mind, can you stay the night? I just.. Something feels wrong. I don't want to be alone.” Of course he would stay the night with you. He nodded and sunk down on the bed next to you, above the blanket, not wanting to push his affections too far just yet. He played with your hair while you fell asleep again. Don’t worry little bunny, you were safe with him. You’ll always be safe with him. 
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syllvane · 1 year
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beginnings pt 3 - nikolai lantsov x reader
“You’re settling in better than I thought you would.”
You turned around from where you were checking some knots, looking at Sturmhond.
You went back to your work quickly, not giving yourself the opportunity to look at him any longer than necessary.
Perhaps the second most frustrating thing about this whole ordeal, besides the fact that you had been completely cut off from the Crows, is that he was in fact more handsome than you had given him credit for, when he was playing warden and you, Jesper, and Kaz prisoner.
He was gorgeous and you hated him for it, if only because that was an easier option than taking a nuanced look at your feelings.
“You were the one who invited me to join your crew, did you not think I would settle in good then?”
“Yes, well I wouldn’t say that you voluntarily joined the crew.”
“And if I had joined when I was in handcuffs, that would’ve been voluntary?”
“Give yourself some credit, you had already broken out of the handcuffs by then,” He said and you looked at him to see him already smiling at you.
You shook your head in disbelief, but couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your lips.
“I am truly sorry, that we couldn’t bring you back to Ketterdam. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it’s-”
“I know. Sun Summoner gathering amplifiers and tearing down the Fold trumps returning me to my friends.” You said, tugging at one last knot and, satisfied, turning to him. “What about you? What’s your interest in tearing down the Fold?”
His face shifted into an expression that you hadn’t seen yet in your several days aboard the Volkvynk, his eyes trying to peer into your mind.
“There’s a lot of money to be made.“
You scoffed, the obvious lie sitting in between the two of you. He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m familiar with men who think that the only sacred thing in this world is profit. You’re not one of them.” You said, watching the careful, guarded expression on his face. “You’re doing this because you care about Ravka. Because you’re a good person, underneath all the charm and sarcasm and wit.”
The corners of his lips turned upwards.
“Careful, that sounded an awful lot like a compliment.”
“It wasn’t. Just an observation.”
“You’re quite good at this.” He said, motioning around you. “Sailing, I mean, not observations.”
You rolled your eyes.
“My parents taught me a little bit when I was younger, before they died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. I never knew them enough to miss them.” You said simply. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re having a conversation and I’m oversharing.”
He laughed slightly before looking out over the horizon, a faraway, distant look in his eyes.
“My name- my real name, is Nikolai Lantsov. My crew knows, the Sun Summoner doesn’t. It’s not something I usually advertise.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so.” You said, holding your thoughts close to your chest. “All of this, Stumhond, the Volkvolny, is to help Ravka.”
“That’s what I’m hoping, anyways.” He said, still looking off into the horizon.
You looked at him and, for maybe the first time, allowed yourself to really look at the man standing besides you, sun painting his skin golden and his eyes bluer than the sea.
“It’s nice to meet you, Nikolai.”
He turned, looked at you and smiled.
You swallowed the fluttering in your chest, like you could choke the butterflies if you tried hard enough.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
tag list: @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mischiefmanaged71 @lunamadhatter99 @feyredarling92 @reverse-iak @zanmorgan @criesinlies @ducks118 @home-of-disaster @96jnie @inluvkai @maddieg1025
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lexsssu · 6 months
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Clear (Albedo)
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TAGS: Albedo/Dragoness!reader, smut, pregnancy, drabble Ao3 ver.
“Fascinating. You are truly an anomaly that goes against all known laws of this world, but then again...you are not of this world so I suppose that does partially explain how you keep exceeding my expectations.”
You feel like a lab rat beneath the probing gaze of Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist as he circled you, hands going a mile a minute as he recorded his latest findings about your ‘abnormal’ physiology. 
It was by pure chance that you found yourself at the Dragonspine of all places the moment you woke up in this world that felt the same, but was so different from your own. Though the blistering cold would freeze even the most hardy of adventurers or travelers, your former game avatar and now current body was seemingly immune to it. Like the monsters that called this terrain home, your draconic body warded off the cold as it produced heat that not only spread throughout your physical body but seemed to originate from your very soul. Being the researcher that he was while also being the first to stumble upon your wayward self, Albedo had taken it upon himself to study you.
“...Thank you, I think? ...Was that supposed to be a compliment though?”
“Affirmative. I had intended my previous words to be a compliment. Your body is truly a marvel to behold.”
Had he been any other person you’d have misinterpreted his words, but Albedo’s handsome face never strayed from its cool expression that stayed as pure and untarnished as the snow that piled high atop the peak of the Dragonspine. Still though, you were unused to genuine compliments due to being an ordinary wage slave with average looks before transmigrating to Teyvat so you couldn’t be blamed from feeling a little flustered because of his praise.
The alchemist disregarded the warmth that bloomed in his chest at the sight of the red tinge that splattered across the fullness of your cheeks, attributing the said warmth to your body basically being a furnace that it seeped into your surroundings and reached him because of his close proximity to you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Big sister is the best! She plays with Klee all the time, takes me out flying, and she’s just as patient with me as you are big brother!” Klee gushed excitedly at Albedo, practically vibrating in her spot as she regaled him with tales of their various misadventures. “She’s so pretty too! And, and, and her hair is so long and fluffy that Klee could spend the whole day just petting her hair. Even Razor thinks she’s pretty!...And Kaeya & Diluc too!”
Albedo paused his writing at Klee’s admission, an image of you flashing before his eyes and reminding him of your said snowy strands that felt like the softest silk beneath his fingertips. He recalls how carefree and unrestrained you are towards him, caring not how...different he was compared to most ordinary people. 
So much mystery contained in a single person and yet for all your secrets, he finds that he doesn’t mind unravelling you piece by piece even if it revealed another facet of you that he had yet to explore. It was safe to say that you were not so unlike the Dragonspine, uncharted territory in which no man has yet to fully or even partially unravel its countless secrets.
Was it wishful thinking if he wanted to be the one to discover all your hidden sides?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“To think that such a phenomenon is possible between creatures such as you and I...There are still many mysteries in this world that I have yet to discover the answers to,” a hint of wonder could be felt in his voice as he marveled at you, hands reverently caressing the small yet soft & firm bump on your stomach. “I do wonder if this child will also carry the aura of the stars which you possess…”
Even in the midst of coupling, Albedo’s tenacious mind couldn’t stop itself from functioning like the well-oiled machine that it was. As much as you loved him and all of his quirks however, an obviously pregnant and horny dragoness was not patient enough to allow her lover and the father of her child to simply pet her when he had his cock shoved inside her cunt. 
“Albedo-dear I do so love you, but if you insist on carrying on with your research while we’re IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING then I swear to all the archons in Teyvat that I will tie you down and fuck myself on your cock until I am satisfied. IS.THAT.CLEAR?”
“...Crystal”
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froggywritesstuff · 2 months
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dysphoria | angel dust
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ship/pairing: Angel dust x trans!male!reader (reader has a uterus and still gets his period)
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
request: Can I request Angel Dust comforting his trans boyfriend when he gets his period and is extremely dysphoric and depressed about the whole thing. This whole week has been a shit fest of dysphoria and crying.
warnings: maybe ooc idk , I didn't clarify in my writing but first confession of love i guess, periods, gender dysphoria, swearing, crying, emotional breakdowns, petnames (reader gets called baby), rushed ending, bad sex joke
word count: 758
A/N: sorry this is really short i have zero motivation to do anything 👍 fem and cis readers dni
You didn’t even need to tell Angel what was happening, nor did he need to ask. The second he saw your face contorted into one of discomfort, he was all over you. He hung up a dozen ‘do not disturb’ signs on your hotel room door (though it was basically a shared room at that point), prepared to verbally or physically attack anyone trying to disturb you. Before you could even mention cramps he had a heat pack fresh out the microwave for you, checking every five minutes if it was still warm or if you wanted it reheated. He would cuddle you tightly, him and Fat Nuggets doing their very best to cheer you up. Angel showed how much he truly cared for you. You couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend than him. However you felt nothing he could do would make the dysphoria you felt go away. He’s an amazing boyfriend but unfortunately he can’t stop your period or give you a dick. (he could do the second one if you asked him nicely)
”Ok I think this is all the chocolate in the entire hotel, I refilled your water, and I got you some of those snacks you like.” Angel listed as he sat on the bed beside you, dumping the food in your lap before readjusting the pillows wedged between your head and the wall, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as you could be.
”Ange, you didn’t have to do all that.” you mumbled despite knowing it was pointless and he would continue to insist on helping you. 
He pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head against his shoulder, “I told you it’s fine. I want nothin’ more than for you to be happy.”
You lazily snuggled up to him. Dealing with your period and the gender dysphoria that tagged along with it tended to drain your energy, "Thanks. I really appreciate you helping me with this."
Angel's arm snaked around your waist, holding you close to him, "Of course baby. But of the list of things I'd do for you, this is pretty mild. If your period was a person I swear I'd fuck 'em up real bad. Make 'em regret ever makin' you feel this way."
You couldn’t tell if it was just your hormones going batshit or not, but Angel’s words had you burst into tears. You quickly buried your face in the crook of his neck as he pulled you into a tight but comfortable hug.
”You’re ok babe, I’ve got you, just let it out,” his whispers comforted you as his hand gently rubbed up and down your back soothingly, not even caring that your tears were staining his shirt. 
Shaky breaths left your lips as you cried, “I'm grateful you're helping me. But I hate this. I hate my body. I hate it so fucking much.” your voice cracked as more tears rushed down your face. Angel was quick to pull out of the hug and cup your face, his eyes on you as his thumb caressed your cheeks. “It’s not fair.”
Tears brimmed Angel’s eyes, his heart breaking at your words, “I know baby. And you're right, it’s not fair. And you don’t deserve to feel this way one bit.” he pressed his lips to your forehead, “You hear me?" you gave a small nod as his thumb wiped away your tears, "And you're not your body. You're the hottest, the funniest, the kindest, the strongest, and the most handsome - yeah you're the most handsome and hottest man I’ve ever met, who also happens to be the best boyfriend in the world. And I wanna do anythin' to help you with this pain."
A small smile grew on your lips as you listened to him. He was so genuine and sincere, a big contrast to his usual sarcastic and snarky demeanour. On a day you felt like dying only he could make you feel like living, "I love you. So much."
He smiled ear to ear, feeling his heart swell at your words, "I love you too baby." he handed you one of the snacks he had brought, "Do you wanna eat something? And then you can talk more about what's botherin' you, or we can watch movies, or we can just nap. Whatever you wanna do."
You nodded, taking a bite of the snack, "That sounds good." Angel shifted on the bed so he was beside you again, one arm around your shoulders, while the other wiped your remaining tears.
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nicoline1998enilocin · 5 months
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Fluffcember Day 12 | All the reasons why I love you
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Pairing | Husband!Chris Evans x Wife!Fem!Reader
Word count | 2K
Summary | Today is your wedding day, and Chris recalls some of his most fond memories of you, his wife. From the moment you first met to the moment he first heard your laugh, not a single moment is forgotten by him. It is at that moment that you realize how much he paid attention to all the little things, and why you have fallen for him in the first place all those years ago.
Rating | General (G)
Warning(s) | RPF, Established relationship ~ Husband & Wife, use of nickname ~ Beautiful
A/n | This one-shot is written for day 12 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge! I want to dedicate this to @cevansbaby-dove, I truly hope this will make your day just a little brighter in the tough time you're going through right now. I want to give a massive thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this one, it is truly appreciated 🎄
Events Masterlist | ''That's the first time I ever heard you laugh | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | Love at first sight | @ultimatechrisbingo
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner
Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist | Read on AO3
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You're seated at the big table, ready for dinner, when your brand new husband, Chris, looks at you and gives you a reassuring smile before standing up and reaching for a microphone.
''Can I have everyone's attention, please? Because I would like to take this moment to tell all of you something about my beautiful partner in crime and wife, Y/N Evans-Y/L/N,'' Chris starts as he looks back at you, now standing in the middle of the dance floor.
His light blue suit compliments his eyes beautifully and matches the decor around the wedding venue, tying the whole outfit together. His beard and hair are styled in his usual way, making him look handsome, and you feel like you have found heaven on earth in this man.
Your husband. The more you think about it, the harder it is to believe, but it's true. You married your best friend, the love of your life, your partner through thick and thin.
''I'd like to start by telling you all how I met the most beautiful lady I have ever met, and who turned my world upside down from the moment she came into my life nearly 15 years ago.''
You just finished your work for the day, and now you're walking home from the school where you teach. Having a job only 10 minutes from your home is perfect, and being an elementary school teacher has always been one of your biggest dreams.
But today, you decide to stop in the bookstore on your way home as if something was pulling you into that building. The door swings open, a familiar warmth engulfs you, and you feel instantly at home.
You have spent many rainy days here and are good friends with the owners.
''Y/N! What a surprise to see you here; how is everything going?'' May asks; she's one of the two owners with her husband, Jason.
''It's good to see you again, May. I'm so sorry I haven't been here lately, but it's hectic at work now that we're nearing the end of the school year again. But I decided to revisit two of my favorite people; I have missed you both a lot,'' you tell her, and May nods in understanding.
''You're always welcome here, Y/N. We got a few books over the last few weeks that might be right up your alley. I stored them in the back until you would visit again,'' she says before walking off and getting said books.
Meanwhile, you're on your way to browse your favorite store section: True Crime. Something about this topic never ceases to amaze you, and you have spent many hours browsing the section.
Your eyes glide over the books until you spot one that immediately piques your interest. It's a little too high for you, but you try to reach for it anyway, but to no avail. You can't reach it even when you're standing on your tiptoes and let out a frustrated sigh.
''Can I help you with that?'' a deep voice on your right asks you, and when you turn your head, you look right into the eyes of the most handsome man you have ever seen. You stare at him for a few seconds until it dawns that he asked you a question, and your cheeks turn bright red in embarrassment.
''Oh! I'm so sorry! Uhm... Yes, please, can you hand me that one?'' you tell him as you point towards a book about Jeffrey Dahmer. The man reaches for it and grabs it off the shelf effortlessly, handing it to you with a charming smile.
''Here you go, Beautiful,'' he tells you, and you take the book from his hands with a shy smile and a chuckle leaving your chest.
''Thank you, uhm-'' ''Chris!'' ''Well, thank you, Chris,'' you tell him, and just as you're about to turn around and see if May is back, he stops you.
''I hope I'm not too forward here, but you're beautiful, and I was hoping we could get some coffee sometime if you're up for it,'' he tells you, and you happily agree.
A few days later, you're having coffee with the man you fell for in the bookstore, and you've never believed in love at first sight until you met Chris. He felt the same way and told you exactly that a few dates later. You two have never looked back and been together ever since that moment.
''I still remember that day like it was yesterday. That was the first time I ever heard you laugh. It has become one of my favorite things to hear, and I know I will never get tired of hearing it. It makes me feel like I'm home because you're nearby. And you're my home,'' he tells you before blowing a kiss your way.
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''One of my favorite moments we have experienced together has to be the moment she met Dodger for the first time,'' Chris starts as he paces over the dance floor, his arms moving to emphasize his point.
Are you ready to meet him, Beautiful?'' Chris asks as you're sitting on his living room couch. You've always loved dogs, and ever since Chris told you about his furry friend, you couldn't wait to meet him.
He has told you about how he rescued him after filming in a shelter, and it warms your heart each time. You're getting a little impatient to see him now.
''Been ready for ages!'' you tell him with a chuckle, and that's when you hear it: his excited taps on the floor as he runs to the new person in his house, curious as ever.
''Who's that, Buddy? Say hi to her; she won't bite you!'' Chris tells him enthusiastically. Dodger can't contain his excitement, and he jumps on the couch where you're sitting, greeting you excitedly as Chris looks at the two of you.
''See? I told you he would like you,'' Chris tells you, and deep inside, you knew he would because he's the absolute best dog in the world. And to have Chris as his owner makes him the luckiest dog in the universe.
''Aren't you an excited little boy? Yeah, you are! God and you're so cute too, just like your Daddy,'' you say, and you look at Chris from the corner of your eye, seeing him turn bright red at your compliment.
''You two are way cuter together, though,'' he tells you, making you smile. From that moment on, wherever you went, Dodger went with you. He would be by your side anywhere inside the house; if you went outside, he would always want to accompany you.
That year, naturally, you had to take a photo of yourself, Chris, and Dodger in front of the Christmas tree, which is still your favorite photo of the three of you. Your own little family was enjoying their first Christmas together.
''I wouldn't want it any other way,'' you tell Chris when he's done telling the story, and once again, he blows a kiss your way. He's head over heels in love with you, and so are you with him. You can never get enough of him telling stories.
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''The fondest memory I have of her, however, will have to be the moment I proposed to her while we were on vacation in Mexico,'' Chris tells everyone in the room, and a big smile adorns his face.
You and Chris have been together for a little over 13 years now, and even though you have discussed the idea of marriage a few times, it only became concrete now.
A few weeks before your departure on your yearly vacation with Chris, he started his search for the perfect engagement ring. He has visited several shops but eventually found the perfect one for you.
Now, all that's left is to pop the question.
You two just had dinner in an authentic Mexican restaurant and had some fantastic food, and now Chris is offering to take you on a walk on the beach. What you did not know, however, is that Chris's mom, Lisa, has prepared the place of the proposal for both of you.
''God, that food was amazing! I'm glad you chose that restaurant, Beautiful,'' Chris tells you as his fingers are interlaced with yours. The restaurant you initially wanted to visit was closed due to a personal emergency, so you decided to hit up an authentic Mexican restaurant nearby.
''I don't know what the other place would have been like, but I'm so glad we decided to go here because I would eat here again if I ever have the chance!'' you tell him, and Chris can't help but smile.
All he can think about is how that might be your go-to restaurant every time you come back to visit to relive your memories of the day he proposed to you.
He turns to you and admires how your dress flows in the wind, making you look nothing short of angelic. After you have walked for about 20 minutes, you spot the proposal site, and your head shoots over to Chris.
Is this happening?! You ask yourself, and you soon find out that it is happening. Right here, right now.
''Y/N, I'm not sure how I would have gotten where I am today without your encouragement and joy, without listening to your singing and watching you dance when you think no one is watching,'' he starts.
''I enjoy dreaming with you because you understand me like no one else could. I enjoy being sick now that you're there to care for me. You inspire me to get out of bed each morning, no matter how difficult the day ahead may be, and you make me want to accomplish the impossible,'' he tells you, and you're trying your hardest to conserve your make-up as the tears are escaping.
''We both want to live a colorful, memorable life, and we can make our wildest dreams come true if we work together on them. And that's why I want- no, need you for the rest of my life,'' he finishes his speech.
He grabs the ring out of his pocket, clutching the little box tightly before going down on one knee, and you put your hands over your mouth to stifle the sniffles coming out.
When he's down on his knee, he opens the small velvet box, revealing the engagement ring he picked out for you, and he asks the question you've been dying to hear ever since you realized he's about to propose.
''Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man on earth and become my wife?''
''Oh my god, YES!'' you exclaim, and Chris takes the ring out of the box and gets up before grabbing your face gently, sealing your moment with a tender, sweet kiss.
''I love you so much, Chris, and I can't wait to marry you,'' you tell him, and from that moment on, you're going through life as the future Mrs. Evans.
''And now, here we are all gathered on our wedding day. Honestly, I couldn't have done this without you, Beautiful. You're the reason I am where I am today, and to have you by my side to witness it all is the cherry on top of the wedding cake!'' he says, and you have to wipe some tears away.
Your road may have been challenging, but you wouldn't change it for anything. If your relationship with Chris has proven anything, you can go through anything as long as you have him by your side and want to prove that to him every single day of your lives together.
When he's about to let everyone know they can start their dinner, you get up from your chair and jog over to him with the front of your wedding dress raised so you don't slip and fling yourself around his neck when you arrive.
''I love you, Chris, and thank you for that. Now you have made this day truly unforgettable,'' you tell him, his arms wrapped around you to pull you close to him.
''I love you too, Beautiful, and I will show you just how much every single day of the rest of our lives.''
And with that, your promises to each other are sealed with one more kiss. Your lips move as if they are made for one another, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. You have found heaven on earth in your husband, and you're officially the happiest woman in the universe.
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