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#what if that's what brings him back to awareness
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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executive orders
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words: 3.8k
warnings: 18+ only, ceo!rafe, assistant!reader, mean!rafe but equally mean!reader lol, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pretend marriage (like fake dating but fake marriage hehe)
“so…” the woman says, heels clicking down the pristine hallway as you quickly follow. “as you were told in the interview process, mr. cameron is a very particular man. as his personal assistant, your focus is more on his well-being than the business.”
“okay, i understand.” you nod. you find the whole thing odd. the interview process where you didn't actually meet the man you'd be the personal assistant to. his semi nondescript job. ceo. of some company named after him, but you don't know the specifics on what his role actually includes.
“just know…” she pauses outside of the large door leading into the room. “this isn't going to be an easy job. it's why you're making a lot of money.”
“okay.” you say again. the more you learn, the more concerned you are, but you're willing to try, even if just for one day.
“and you're paid for through the cfo. mr. cameron does not have firing rights no matter what he says.”
you're not sure what she means, but it becomes very apparent when the moment you step through the door, the man you presume to be mr. cameron let's out a growl.
“serena, i told you i don't need a fucking babysitter!” you turn around, but the door has already been shut behind you. you can hear serenas heels clicking quickly down the hallway. you had completely forgotten her name in the stress of your first day, but you commit it to memory before turning to the ceo.
“hello, sir.” you say quietly. “im y/n.”
“i don't need you.” he grunts out before focusing on his computer, typing rather angry and aggressively. you stand frozen, waiting.
“i said i don't need you. leave. you're fired.” mr. cameron says.
“i um… i don't think you can fire me. sorry, sir.”
his fingers pause as he looks up at you, seeming to finally really see you as his eyes move down then back up your body. you weren't sure what to wear so you're dressed in a black work dress with long sleeves and a pair of flats. under his watchful eye, you wish you would have worn something less form fitting.
“i hate being called sir.” he says.
“okay, mr. cameron then.” you take a few shuffling steps forward.
“rafe.” he shakes his head. “just rafe. mr. cameron is my fucking dad and he's dead.”
your instinct is to say sorry for his loss, but you can't find the words, which ultimately seems to be the right thing as rafe hums then turns back to his computer screen.
you watch him work for a few minutes, occasionally looking around the sparsely decorated office. you swear every time you look away, rafes eyes move up to look at you, but by the time your gaze travels back to him, he's back typing on his computer.
“goddamn it.” he groans out. “don't just stand there all day. if you're gonna be here and i can't fire you, you might as well sit down.”
“oh!” it takes you a minute to realize he's talking to you as his eyes don't stray away from the screen, but then you're quickly moving to sit on the chair positioned on the other side of his desk.
you sit again, watching rafe, watching the clock, watching the view out the window. “what would you like for lunch, si-rafe?”
“whatever.” he waves his hand. “it's not your job to get it. someone will bring lunch to us.”
“oh.” you nod, becoming increasingly more aware that you're not really sure what your job is.
just like rafe said, someone brings in lunch at exactly 12:30, one tray for you and one for rafe.
when he closes his computer, you think that now will finally be the time to talk, but he eats in silence. “so-”
“no small talk.” rafe says. “i hate that shit.”
“well, what is it you'd like me to do then? just sit here? at least give me a task.”
“fine.” rafe grunts out. “when you're finished eating you can read through this report.” he tosses a thick three ringed binder onto the desk in front of you.
“fine.” you argue back, quickly scarfing down your food before grabbing the binder. 
you read through the report. you have no clue what the numbers mean, but you do find a couple punctuation mistakes and highlight them. rafe seems surprised you have any notes at all, his eyebrows raising when you grab the marker from his desk.
“there.” you place the binder down once you reach the last page. its tedious work, but at least it's something other than utter silence.
“great.” rafe takes the binder and tosses it into the trash can. 
“hey!”
“those were numbers from four years ago.” you can see the smirk on rafes features, his amusement at getting you to do something completely pointless.
“you're a real dick, you know?” you say, blurting the words out before you can think of the consequences, it's not like you want to keep the job anyways.
rafe sits silently, but his eyes are on you, hands frozen as you continue on.
“you should hear the way people talk about you. everyone is afraid of you, which you may think makes you a macho boss, but it just makes you a shitty guy to work for. no wonder you have to pay everyone two times more than any other company around here, they need that for putting up with your rudeness.” you rant, suddenly sucking in air as your words come to an end.
“it's 5pm. done for the day. ill walk you out.” rafe stands, but you move quicker, pushing the doors open and leaving him to walk behind.
you stop when you see serena and the cfo quietly chatting. you open your mouth to say you quit when rafe speaks from behind you.
“i like this one. make sure she's here tomorrow by 9am.”
you turn and look to him, but he's already walking away.
--
you weren't planning on showing back up, but serena is a convincing woman.
“good morning, rafe.” you place a drink carrier down onto the corner of his desk, plucking out your mocha before schooching the rest towards him. “i didn't know what you like. i got a hot black coffee, a caramel frappe and the a cappuccino.”
rafe stares at the drinks before picking up the frappe. you smile, you should have predicted that despite his hard exterior, rafe liked a sweet drink.
serena gave you the company card, saying to use it for any and all expenses, even grocery's or home decor, she didn't care, as long as you entered the building by 9 am tomorrow.
“i know you hate small talk, but you'll have to get over it. what does this company even do?” you take a sip of your mocha, the taste chocolatey on your tongue.
“we are a development company. real estate all across the world. we also manage construction.”
“oh.” you frown. “that's more boring than i thought.”
rafe let's out a soft chuckle, pleasant sounding to your ears.
“everything just seems so secretive.” you shrug.
“i think they didn't want you to know a lot in case you turned down the job. you're the longest an assistant has lasted.”
“and what…” you lean in, ignoring that it's only your second day. “exactly am i supposed to do?”
“just… keep me in check.” rafe shrugs. “i have a tendency to get angry. bad news will get passed through you. you're here to be a sounding board, where i can vent and bounce ideas off of.”
“i make 100k a year for that?” you scoff.
“i think 50 of that is just for dealing with me.” 
you laugh along with rafe. maybe you'll end up lasting an entire week.
-- two months later --
“are you free this weekend?” rafe asks.
“uh, yeah, why?” you question. you've learned rafe likes when you stand up to him, speak your mind and not let him push you around like he does everyone else. he's come to respect you for it, and it's made work much easier.
“im needed in new york city. id like for you to come with me. as my assistant.”
“sure, ill start looking for hotels.” you open up your laptop.
“spare no cost. i want somewhere nice.”
you roll your eyes dramatically. “of course you do.”
you already knew to look only at 5 star hotels, the most expensive of the lot. despite the short notice, you find two connecting suites that will work for you and rafe.
“and how are we getting there?” you ask. “want me to talk to jeffery about taking the private jet?”
“yup, i want to fly into laguardia, not jfk.”
“got it.” you nod, finding the correct number in your phone before stepping out to talk. you confirm all the details, jotting down times in the notes app on your phone.
you stop by after the phone call to update serena of your plans, learning she's a secretary of sort for the whole company, really the number two right behind rafe.
“hey girl.” you smile. “heading to nyc with mr. cameron for the weekend.”
“oh, good.” she sighs happily. “he's been needing to go out there.”
“yeah.” you shrug. “if you say so!” you keep yourself firmly out of the business side, just like she told you your first day here.
“make sure you do something fun while you're there too. while he's in meetings you could see times square, or check out central park.”
“i definitely will! i want to see the cherry blossoms if they're still in bloom.”
“sounds fun.” serena nods before her desk phone begins to read. “sorry, gotta get this.”
“see ya.” you wave as you walk back to rafes office.
“all good?” he questions.
“laguardia, just as you want.” you smile, sitting back at your upgraded chair.
“don't know what id do without ya.” rafe says.
“don't be nice to me.” you scrunch your name up. “it's weird.”
--
“how were the cherry blossoms?” rafe asks.
“most of them still in bloom, actually.” you say with a soft smile. you ended up taking a lot of pictures along with exploring the rest of the park.
“nice.” he hums. “did you bring an evening dress?”
“no. and you didn't tell me i was supposed to.” you say.
“well… i would appreciate it if you joined me at dinner tonight. it's with a very important client who um… may be under the impression that im traveling with my wife.”
“your- your wife?” your eyes widen. “you want me to lie about being your wife?”
“just for tonight. id really appreciate it.” rafe looks at you with a softness in his eyes. “please.”
“okay… but i don't have an evening gown… or anything fancy.” 
“let me take you shopping then.” rafe pulls out his phone. “there's got to be a nice store near us.”
you place your hand on top of rafes phone. “ill find a place.”
you end up finding a formal store only a couple blocks away. you decide to walk, rafe keeping close to you, glaring at anyone who even glances at you for too long.
you make it to the store without any interruptions, and rafe quickly points out the kinds of dresses that will fit the restaurant before standing back to let you choose.
“you wanna watch me try them on, husband?” you ask rafe, following the associate with an armful of dresses back towards the private changing rooms.
“of course.” rafe follows behind you, eyes glancing down your figure. he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous fitted dress.
when you step out in the first dress, rafe swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “you're getting that one.”
“you sure?” you look in the mirror, twirling around to look at the dropped back. “i don't know if this color looks good on me.”
“it looks good on you.” rafe says. “but by all means, try on more. ill buy you multiple.”
rafe ends up buying you every single dress you try on except for one that's too loose and doesn't fit well. you insist you only need one, but you're not going to argue with your boss wanting to spend money on you.
you end up choosing the first one you tried on to go to the dinner with rafe. your hands shake slightly, not sure what to expect. rafe sees it, hesitating before wrapping your hand in his.
“it'll be fine. you can just… just be quiet for the most part. ill do all the talking.”
“okay.” you squeeze his hand back, not used to the physical contact with rafe, but finding it surprisingly comfortable.
you follow him into the restaurant, everyone else dressed to the nines, perfect hair and makeup on the women, the men with the shiniest shoes. “it's really beautiful in here.” you whisper.
“wait till you taste the food… wifey.” rafe says, making you both laugh.
“ah, mr. and mrs. cameron.” the man says in a slightly accented voice as you both shake his hand, as well as the associate next to him. “so glad to meet the both of you. we appreciate getting into business with a true family man.”
“of course.” you smile, putting on your best acting performance. “we are so excited to start our family soon.”
“we must see the wedding photos. my wife-” the man puts a proud hand on his chest. “is a wedding dress designer.”
“oh.” you frown. “i would love to show you, but we haven't gotten them back yet.” you smile at rafe. “we’re newlyweds.”
“ah, cheers to the beginning of a lovely marriage then.” he raises his glass to clink with the others at the table.
“please, kiss! you must after a toast.” the associate says.
you turn to rafe, glancing down to look at his lips. it would totally give you away to refuse, so you take a deep breath and lean into in, pressing your lips together in a quick kiss. it lasts only a moment, but you swear you feel a spark, a tug to continue kissing him.
rafe doesn't bring it up until later, as your riding the elevator back up to your hotel room. “you did great. im sorry about the kiss.”
“it wasn't bad.” you giggle softly, slightly drunk on the wine that was served.
“im glad you think that.” rafe smiles softly. “you'll make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man someday.”
“maybe we could…” you swallow harshly, the alcohol encouraging your words you know you shouldn't say. “maybe we could keep pretending. just for tonight. and then when we get back to the office things can be back to normal.”
“and what does continuing to pretend to be husband and wife entail?” rafe questions, taking a step closer to you.
“more kissing. more… more.”
rafes lips are against yours suddenly, ignoring the elevator doors sliding open in favor of his mouth pushing against yours, lips gliding harshly over each others. the kiss is the exact opposite of the restaurant, whereas it was quick and innocent, this kiss is full of fire and passion.
the elevators slide shut and begin to head back down to the lobby. “shit.” rafe groans against your lips, jamming the button towards your floor. “sorry baby.”
“just… keep kissing me until someone gets in.” rafe listens to your pleas, kissing you until the elevator comes to a halt. even then, he doesn't move far away, keeping himself stood possessively over you, your back against the elevator wall.
you smile awkwardly at the three men who enter before turning your face into rafes chest, focused on the hand that has slipped around your waist. 
the elevator stops and the three men get off. the second it's moving again, rafe is back kissing you, stumbling out when your doors open as to not make the same mistake as last time.
“shit.” rafe groans, having to fumble in his pocket to get the key card for the door.
you let out a soft giggle, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw until the door swings open and you're able to step in the room.
“are you sure?” rafe asks, closing and locking the door behind you.
“im sure.” you nod. “this is just… pretend. let's do what husbands and wives do.”
rafe moves you towards the bed, backing you up until you sit down on the plush spread, decorated exactly like yours in the connecting room, but this bedding still smells like rafe from the night before.
he sinks to his knees, such a strong, dominant man on the floor for you as he takes off your heels, carefully slipping them off your soles before setting them to the side.
“thank you.” you say softly. rafe looks up at you before leaning forward, pushing the slit of your dress open to press kisses to your knees, and then thighs, moving up until the dress no longer allows him to.
“i need you to take this off.” he says roughly.
you nod, shifting yourself to stand as rafe also rises. you turn your back to him, his hands moving to your waist before moving up until he's cupping your chest over the shiny material.
“rafe-” you gasp out as he squeezes, his large palms enveloping your entire breast.
rafe holds his hands there for a moment longer before moving them to your back, unzipping your dress and watching it fall to the floor. you're in just a small pair of lingerie, having bought it for yourself yesterday in a boutique.
“shit.” rafe curses again. “you're… you're so beautiful.”
you turn around to kiss him again, his hands now against your bare skin as he explores, moving all along your sides and back.
your own hands get busy as well, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. you pull away to see his muscles, hints of which you've seen when he's rolled up his sleeves or wore a tighter than normal shirt, but now you can finally really see and appreciate them.
“lay down, please.” rafe says.
you move to lay on his bed, head resting against the pillows as rafe crawls over your body. his mouth finds yours again as his hand delves under your back to unhook your bra. he pulls it away from your body as his lips leave yours.
he's only off your skin for a moment before his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around in circles as his hand holds your other breast.
“oh, shit.” it's your turn to curse as your eyes squeeze closed, hand coming to the back of rafes head, feeling his short hair as he sucks on your nipple before kissing all over the swell of your breast. he switches sides, wanting to taste all of you.
you lift your hips when his hand grabs onto your underwear, allowing him to pull it all the way down until you kick it off the bed. rafe pulls away to look between your legs, letting out a soft moan when you part your thighs and he can see how wet you already are.
“beautiful.” he says, eyes closing like it's too much to look at you as his hand skirts down your stomach before finding your wetness, finger circling around your entrance before gently pushing in.
“kiss me, please.” you take rafes face in your hands, guiding your mouths back together as his finger carefully thrusts in and out. he slowly increases the speed until you're whining against his lips for more.
rafe twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit as you let out a moan, hips pressing up, seeking more.
“i need you.” rafe pulls his hand away. “i need you so bad.”
you nod quickly, giving him one more quick kiss before he pulls away to take off his pants and underwear. you bite your lip once hes completely nude, his cock standing tall and hard away from his body. you want to taste him, want to see what it feels like to have his cock sit heavy on your tongue, but you need him inside of you more.
“i have a condom somewhere…” he looks around.
“you don't need to wear one. I'm on birth control.” you can feel your cheeks blush just at the suggestion. “it's… it's not what a husband and wife would do.”
“okay.” rafe doesn't need any more convincing, crawling back over your body. “do you want me like this?”
you flip over quickly so you're on top, rafes back now pressed into the mattress. you grab onto his cock, giving him a few quick strokes before you line him up with your cunt, sinking down with a synchronous moan.
you keep your eyes on rafes face as you begin to move, hips grinding up and then back, your hands sat firmly on his chest to help you move.
you're able to grind your clit down against his skin every time you sink fully down, just adding to the pleasure. he's stretching you out in the most pleasurable way, just enough to feel it without being painful.
“so fucking beautiful.” rafe says, reaching up to hold onto your tits as they bounce with your body.
you put all your energy into riding him, knowing this might be your only chance to, but hoping it's not, hoping you can feel him inside of you again.
“i- baby.” rafe grunts out, hands moving down to your hips. he helps you move as your legs quickly tire, not used to this position.
“you feel so good.” you whine out eyes sliding shut as rafes hips begin to push up, lifting you with every thrust, spearing his cock even further into you.
“im-im close.” you admit with a gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time.
“cum for me baby, please.” rafe moves one of his hands to your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to rub over your clit.
you cry out, back arching as you instantly cum, not needing any more stimulation as your body shakes before flopping forward, falling against rafes chest.
he gives you a minute, as long as he can hold back before flipping you onto your back. it takes him only a few thrusts to cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim.
rafe flops down next to you, both breathing heavily, skin sheened in sweat.
you wait for a moment. to see if he's going to say anything. when he doesn't, you scooch closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek and bringing him in for a kiss, not yet done pretending.
-- four years later --
“you remember the first time we came here?” rafe asks, stepping into the restaurant with his hand wrapped around yours. it's redecorated some, but is still familiar.
“how could i forget.” you smile at him. “where i first pretended to be your wife.”
“well, at least you don't have to pretend anymore,” rafe says, swiping his thumb over the diamond ring on your finger “mrs. cameron.”
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 7 hours
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❤ Yandere Lawyer ❤
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▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female reader
WARNINGS: Obsession; Misogyny; slight Power Abuse.
This idea credit goes to @d-lioncourt cause she's the one that motivated me for this idea. Hope you like this :)
--
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who works in the top law firm of the country. He’s cold, determinate and calculative. Always thinking 10 steps ahead of everyone, carefully considering all possibilities and creating extensive back-up plans. 
His job relies on his capacities and he always aims for the top. If he’s not recognized as the best lawyer available, then he doesn’t even know what he’s been doing so far. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who doesn't care about how things are done as long as he wins the case in the end. Who said lawyers are saints?
He may be an advocate of the law but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t bend it to his will, finding sneaky gaps to reach his goal: win. 
Isn’t that what makes him such a requested lawyer? Isn’t that what causes every big corporate company to try to sign him up, to offer several millions for him to represent them in court? Because everyone knows that he wins.
No matter what happens during the trials or how badly the opposite side tries, he wins. It’s an irrefutable truth and anyone that tries to contradict it is a complete and utter fool. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who is upset enough when he’s informed that he’s gonna have to take a Pro Bono case for a random civilian. It’s frustrating to spend his precious time and expensive resources on a worthless someone.
It’s stupid and he'd immediately refuse it if it wasn’t for the strict order he receives from the higher ups.  
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who rattles you up, insisting on long sessions so he can know your side of the story.
His questions feel like accusations and you hate spending long hours answering him. Makes you feel like you’ve actually committed a crime of sorts when the reality is none of that. 
He knows you’re bothered by the way he pays attention to each of your words, taking mental notes of every minuscule detail so he can bring it up later.
He’s highly aware of how unnerving he can get and it’s fun to see you get so quiet and shy over it. 
He loves it when people get intimidated by him and it’s particularly pleasant when a pretty thing like yourself gets too timid to spare him a few words. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who drags the case much longer than it needs to. He could definitely end it in a blink of eyes, it would be so easy for him. A piece of cake. 
But he doesn’t. 
It’s exciting to see you on court, a helpless expression covering your whole face and your eyes at the verge of tears as your future lays on his hands.  
So pathetically weak. You can’t even defend yourself, you need him to do that for you. To defend your honor, to protect you. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who makes sure you know that despite it being a Pro Bono case, you owe him. He wants you to know that he’s winning this case for you, wasting his valuable time just to save your pathetic ass from those embezzlement charges. 
That he’s the one saving you from going to prison - despite the very evident fact that you have such a weak personality that it’s practically impossible that you’d steal money from your boss. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who takes every chance to hurt your feelings with snide remarks.
You look prettier when you cry, something so enticing about those shiny diamond-like tears that glow in your eyes and the miserable way you furiously blink to keep them at bay - to which you fail. 
You’re crying because of him. That’s enough to make him buzz with a twisted sense of possession and control. He holds that much power over you. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer whose mind wanders over the tempting fantasies of returning home to you. You’d do a submissive girlfriend, he’s so sure of that. If he gave you a nasty slap and a few harsh words, you’d bend to his will so fast - like a obedient girlfriend should. 
It would be so easy to control your life.
Order you to move in with him. Command you to become his stay-at-home girlfriend. Push you to cut off friends and family until only he remains. 
Those misogynistic ideas keep him thinking about you longer than he should. 
◾ Yandere! Lawyer who isn’t afraid to act upon his wishes and so he does. After a triumphing win on court, he leaves.
Storms off without even looking at you and you don’t even have the chance to thank him, but you forget about that quickly. 
You have more pressing issues to focus on, such as rebuilding your life all again. Celebrate your win. Find a new job. Move on with your life the best as you can. 
Your peace lasts exactly one week. And then everything comes down in rubbles.
Because then he comes to retrieve his payment. 
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dixons-sunshine · 15 hours
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Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*
Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.
Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.
“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.
Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”
You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.
Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”
Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.
You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”
“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.
You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.
“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”
Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.
And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.
While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.
You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.
“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.
You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”
“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”
You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.
“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.
Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.
“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.
The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.
“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”
Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.
“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.
“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.
You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.
“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.
Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.
“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.
“Hm?”
“Do you wanna cuddle?”
“Mhm.”
“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”
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elllisaaa · 2 days
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Hiiiiiiiiiii!! I love your work, and I get so excited whenever i see one of your posts pop up 💗💗
Idk if you'll be able to do anything with this, but this was just a random thought I had after a very real experience at the gym but
What about reader getting intimidated by a member bc of their muscles/height? Like maybe they're friends or in a relationship, and it's just like a cute sweet little moment (i can see this with anyone in svt tbh, but obv gym line would be best)
It's okay if you don't wanna do this! I just thought I'd throw it out there lol
Anyways, I hope you have a great day/night!!!!! 💖
you're so cute anonie !! thank you so much for reading my works, and i'm so glad to bring you joy with my silly posts ! but i totally get what you're saying, whenever i go to the gym without my friends, i'm so intimidated by the big guys so i get you ! plus i looove it whenever someone comes in my inbox to let out some random thoughts like that, keep doing that please !!
and to this screams MINGYU, who is so tall and big, but sometimes forgets how impressive it can be for other people. he sees you struggling to reach the bar of one of the machines because you're too short, and he runs to you to help you pull it down. you shyly thank him, and he goes back to his workout, but he cannot help stealing glances at you whenever you're at the gym at the same time as him. and sometimes, he catches you also looking at him but you always turn your eyes away and he doesn't understand why.
but mingyu doesn't want to annoy you during your workout, so he doesn't say anything. except that one day he sees you preparing to squat and he comes by quickly and asks you if you need someone to spot you. he's so cute with his cheeks all red that you cannot say no.
from this moment on, the two of you keep talking and you become his gym crush immediately. he already thought that you were insanely pretty, but now he's also aware that you're the sweetest human on earth and he's smitten by you. some weeks after you grew closer and started to workout together, he will start to wonder why you didn't approach him sooner.
"do i look like a bad guy ?" you giggled at his little joke, shaking your head. "not, that's not it. but you're… well, you're quite impressive." mingyu seemed so surprised you couldn't help but laugh again at how dumbfounded he was. "impressive ? me ?" - "don't play dumb gyu, you're so tall and big, it's a little intimidating at first."
mingyu tries to process the information for a moment, as he didn't think he could've impressed you just because of his size. but for some reasons, it fuels his ego and it feels good to know that he must also look dependable because he wants you to ask for his help everytime you need it.
"do you still find me impressive ?" he questioned, honestly curious about your answer, but he also had other thoughts in mind. "physically ? yes, don't think i didn't count how much you can bench press. but i also know that you're very sweet, and cute, and you take good care of me, so how could i be intimidated ?"
a soft smile takes over mingyu's face as he leans in, getting closer to you until your lips are only inches away. "does this intimidate you ?" - "no… not at all." this time, you take it upon yourself to make a move and kiss him softly. you can feel his lips stretching in a big, gummy smile against yours. and you can't help the giggle you let out when he looks you in the eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes letting you know everything you needed to.
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monstersflashlight · 2 days
Text
Werewolf secretary
Werewolf x fem!reader || throat fucking, cock-warming
Being the secretary of a werewolf wasn’t always so good. Sometimes, closer to the full moon, he got moody and asked you to bring him weird food combos. Sometimes he was so angry he howled until the glass window separating your offices cracked. And sometimes, he was so stressed that he wanted to fuck you until you felt dumb. Today was that day.
You had barely a foot inside the office before he was barking: “On your knees, sweetie.” He always added the endearment at the end to make you feel better, but his tone of voice left no room for argument. Not like you were going to anyway. You knew better than to argue with him when he was clearly on edge. You didn’t know what happened in the last call he took, but his claws were out and his body was a bit furrier than usual.
He was fighting the shift.
You dropped to your knees between his open legs, the shape of his shaft clearly visible through his work pants. You tried to play coy, but your mouth was already salivating. You knew what was coming. Pun intended.
As soon as you were on the floor, his hands were trying (and failing) to open his fly. His claws were making it hard for him, and you could see the anger rising. You helped him, slowly coaching his hands off the way so you could let his dick free. He was hard, so hard. He always joked he could get hard just looking at you, and sometimes it seemed like it wasn’t a joke. He grabbed your hair, pulling a bit too harsh, a bit too rough. But you didn’t mind. You liked it that way. A bit of pain, a bit of danger as his claws graced the back of your neck.
“Open up.” He ordered. You complied, making your legs tremble as the carpet scratched your knees. He teased you, painting your lips with his precum as you panted softly. “Good girl.”
He pushed inside your mouth slowly, so so slowly. You knew he was trying to get a hold of himself, trying not to be too rough, not to take the anger off on you. But you wanted it. You wanted him to be rough, to be harsh, to use you. He feed you his cock, his grip on your hair making impossible for you to do anything but take whatever he wanted to give you. He was in charge, you couldn’t move.
“You look so good between my legs, all flushed and needy. I don’t need to do anything and you are already panting.” His tone was mocking, making fun of how needy you were, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help yourself around him, always needy for his cock.
He built up a pace, slow and deep at first, but increasingly faster. “Yes. Just like that, take it all.” He knew you couldn’t, he was too big for that, but that didn’t stop you for trying, gagging when he went too far. “You like that? You like choking on my dick?” You whimpered around him, making him moan over you, his dick twitching down your throat. “Of course you do, you are such a slutty girl, so hungry for my cock.” You groaned around him, making him lose his pace for a second. He growled, pulling at your hair as he went deeper, faster, making you gag again. He grabbed your neck, feeling himself pushing deep.
You were the escape of all his frustrations, the perfect little toy for him to play when he was stressed. Some people used stress-relief balls, he emptied his balls inside you instead. You didn’t know what happened to make him be this frustrated with the world, but you couldn’t avoid feeling a bit of gratitude towards whoever made him angry today.
“You look so pretty when you cry. Your face all flushed, your lips so shiny… You like it messy, don’t you, pet?” You bobbed your head, trying to nod. The grip he had on your hair was too strong for you to move much, but you didn’t need to. He knew. He was completely aware of how much you enjoyed him playing with you like a toy. He could probably smell it in the air, smell your desire, smell how wet you were with him using you.
You could feel him hanging by a thread, the pace brutal as he fucked your throat. His hand collaring your neck made your head feel light, your brain fuzzy as he constricted the blood flow. You trusted him, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you intentionally, but the raw heat in his eyes sent a spark of danger to your senses. It only made you wetter, your panties dripping down your tights. You rubbed your legs together, trying to get some friction, some relief. He growled at you, a warning.
“You don’t get relief today, pet. This is all about me.” He punctuated each word with a thrust down your throat. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, you could just feel his dick in and out your mouth, in and out your throat. It was divine.
You were so focused on the feel of him you didn’t realize he was coming till you choked on a breath, his load hitting the back of your throat as he pulled out to spill some of his load on your tongue. You moaned around the tip inside your mouth, the taste of him making you hungry for more. You kept sucking until his hand on your hair stopped you, too sensitive.
You were about to pull off him so you could go back to work when he said: “Oh, no you don’t.” He pushed back inside. “Good girls don’t pull off before I told them.” “You are gonna stay there, be a good cockwarming little slut as I finish work.” You nodded enthusiastically, your tongue softly caressing his still hard dick.
At some point he stopped looking at you like you hung the moon and got back to work. Answering calls, sending emails, whatever he did with his morning as you organized everything from outside. Maybe you dozed off, maybe you changed astral realities as you stood there, his soft dick in your mouth.
It wasn’t the first time this happened, it wasn’t the first time he wanted to use you as his cockwarming little slut, you never knew when would it happen. Sometimes it was after he knotted you, sometimes he liked to sleep with his dick deep inside of you so he could fuck you as soon as he woke up, your body soft and pliant under him. Sometimes it was in the middle of the workday when he was feeling too agitated, too stressed. Like today.
So there you were, for what felt like hours, and might as well had been. On your knees, between his legs, as he petted your head every once in a while. After a while he caressed your face, his hand soft against your temple. You looked at him, your eyes half closed. He pulled out slowly, never breaking eye contact. “Does your jaw hurt, darling?” You nodded, unable to form words. “Come here.” He didn’t wait, he just picked you up from the floor and lifted you to his lap.
“Was the call that bad?” You asked, your voice raw and raspy, he almost fucked it out of you.
“Yeah… But you made it all better, my good girl.” You tried not to preen at his endearing words, but the flush creeping up your cheeks was enough telltale. He chuckled, his fingers softly massaging your jaw. “You always make it better.” He whispered, his nose against the bite-mark on your neck, the mate-bond sending shivers down your body.
“We need to get back to work.” You tried.
He wasn’t taking any of that. “I’m taking the day off.”
“But…” He got up and carried you with him like you weighted nothing, exiting the office and grabbing your purse as you passed your desk on your way out.
“No buts. Maybe your butt, though.” He laughed at his own joke as he walked, shaking your body and making an embarrassed flush color your face.
“Your secretary is gonna be mad at you tomorrow.” He laughed.
“I think I can convince her to forgive me. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” He kept walking, bridal carrying you. Your hair must look like a bird nest, but nobody commented. Everyone was staring as you entered the main office area, stopping their work as he carried you away. Nobody found it weird at that point. “Sex tricks.” He clarified, chuckling again at his own words.
“Shhh!” You chastised. It was one thing everyone knew you were mated to the boss, and another to know what you two did in your own home. Or the office. Or the bathroom down the hallway. Or over the copying machine…
“You like it. You like to be a good girl for me.” He growled the last words and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. He was incorrigible, and you couldn’t like it more. Even when he was mad, even when he fucked you so hard you couldn’t sit still the next day, even when he was so stressed he fucked your mouth like you were a toy at his mercy…
You couldn’t help it. You just wanted to be a good girl. Being the secretary of your werewolf mate wasn’t so bad after all.
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Congratulations!!
If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?
Thank you!
(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)
Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️
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Of mates and mer-dudes
Words: 996
Rated: T
Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black
Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water
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“Hammer.” 
“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver. 
“Very funny. I said hammer.” 
“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.” 
Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon. 
“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-” 
“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?” 
“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?” 
“The fuck is Homer Ahr?” 
Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh. 
“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”
“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.” 
Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds. 
“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.” 
Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”
Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.” 
He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface. 
“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?” 
There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.
He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.  
“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.” 
Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes. 
Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.
“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”
His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.
Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.  
“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. “She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?” 
“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…” 
He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow. 
“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-” 
“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.” 
Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin. 
“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?” 
Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-” 
“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-” 
“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him. 
As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later. 
For now, he’s got other things to think about. 
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commander-rahrah · 1 day
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I'm excited to read it too! I'm glad you find it interesting! Don't worry about your post because long! Your thoughts are so interesting!
I agree that Astarion would have to come to terms with Reader/Tav's boundaries too since it works both ways! I definitely feel that Astarion would be too lost in drinking from the blood of a sentient creature to notice the signs.
He would feel ashamed when he's aware of their fear yet they still chose to offer despite that might made him feel like he manipulated them like Cazador did to him 😭
What his excuses are if they try to offer in the early days makes sense! He would be too ashamed & terrified to have such a vulnerable conversation with them yet 😞
He would feel safe enough to bring up their fear after he confessed about everything. He would make it clear to them he doesn't want them to suffer by making them do something they don't want to like he did especially after how much they have helped him & how important they are to him 😭
He would respect their decision if they said it's too much for them. He would support everyone's personal choices & autonomies even though the concept is still new to him 😤
He would need an explanation if they insist on feeding him regardless of their fear. They would explain that not only do they trust him, they love him more than they fear it 🥹
He would only accept if they establish some ground rules 👍 like he did when it comes to physical intimacy & sex which is healthy for both of them!
I know it's unrelated but thank you for adding this because you described me pretty well 🤣 I would definitely react to even the smallest of cuts so Astarion quickly but gently sucking it & giving a small kiss on it would be a fantastic distraction 😳
You're welcome! Thank YOU for entertaining me & sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you enjoy putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios too 🤍
Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav actually had suspicions that he's using them but still chose to believe that he's not. So when he confessed he manipulated them, they're even not angry at him.
They're sad for how much & how long he has suffered to be the way he is now, but they're also genuinely hurt that he did take advantage of their trust in him. They don't blame him but they admit it still hurts and wants some time alone to process it.
After leaving them be, they would go to him when they're ready to talk to him. They would tell him how grateful they are that he chose to come clean with them despite knowing how it would be easier for him to keep quiet for it, and thanked him for trusting them enough to be honest with them.
What do you think of it? I'm curious :3
Hi Anon! Sorry for the super late response, I let this one stew for a little while in my brain and the other night I had this dialogue idea and couldn’t resist writing a little scene about it tonight! I hope you enjoy ❤️
I envisioned this scene happens half way through his confession, and then imagined the rest of the conversation about intimacy and boundaries would happen afterwards! It’s about 1100 words, and canonical Astarion backstory warnings apply — trauma, dark thoughts, etc.
.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨
“I just — I feel awful." Astarion’s throat worked silently, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction. 
“I—oh,” You pulled your hand away from him as uncertainty flooded your features. He saw your eyes dart back and forth, but they weren’t studying him. No, you were lost in thought. “Oh.”
Astarion licked his lips, his hands ringing together in front of him nervously. “You have every right to be angry.”
“I’m not angry. I thought we… I don’t know what I thought.”
The rest of what he had planned to say vanished out of his mind. Instead it started to betray him, a cruel voice whispering about how he knew you would react like this. Did he really think it would go well?
His pink mouth hung open as he scrambled for what to say, trying to think of how to make this better. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?
You crossed your arms over your body, your cheeks flushing deeply. “I feel a bit like a fool. None of it was real, the whole time?”
“Not the whole time,” He confessed as soft, vulnerable moments with you flashed in his mind. The very moments that made him start to drop the act. “It hasn’t been as of late, but before… in the beginning, up until recently, yes.”
His red eyes followed your throat as it bobbed up and down before flicking back up to your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth a sad pout.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Astarion whispered, not daring to move forward.
“I’m thinking… I need a moment.” You admitted, already looking behind you and away from him.
His heart sank, but he nodded. “I— okay. Of course.”
And then you were off, your head down as you stalked away from the edge of the beach and back to the warm glow of camp.
He stood there stunned for a moment, before turning around to stare at the dark, choppy waters in front of him. Hundreds of scenarios began to dance in his mind — what if you went back to the camp to tell the others? Would he be met by pointed blades and blazing spells? He imagined being kicked out, staked, cursed, roasted alive with fireballs. Hand delivered to Cazador as extra punishment for his sins. Anything his twisted broken mind could come up with played like a messed up vision.
Astarion didn’t even try to stop the repetitive dark thoughts. It was what he deserved.
Eventually, the vampire slinked back into the camp some time later — once the sky was inky black and the moon was the only light to illuminate the way back to his tent.
“Hi.”
The sound caused his ears and shoulders to perk up instantly. You were sat in the grass and dirt outside of his tent, your arms wrapped around your knees and pulled to your chest.
“Hi.” Gods, he sounded breathless. But he couldn’t see any weapons or angry barbarians or wizards nearby. That was a good sign, right?
“I wasn’t sure when you’d come back.”
He cocked a brow, “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me again.”
A sigh escaped your lips, “Astarion, don’t be dramatic. I asked for time to think — not for you to leave.”
He blinked at your sharp tone, but nodded his head in slight defeat. “You’re right. And you waited for me because—?”
You brushed off your clothes as you stood up to his height, “I would like to finish that conversation, if you’re ready.”
Well, there was no denying the inevitable.
He nodded his head solemnly, stepping forward to open the flap of his tent and inviting you in with a wave of his hand.
The privacy his tent offered was slight, but this late in the night he knew most of his companions would be fast asleep. Quickly lighting a lantern, he joined you on the fabric floor.
His half-dead heart was thundering, the thrumming sound echoing in his pointed ears that he almost missed your quiet voice.
“I understand.”
“What?” His brows furrowed, looking at you with confusion.
“The stories you’ve told me… your scars… I understand why you did it, why you felt the need to do it.” You explained, your voice and eyes tender as you looked at him in the low light. “But you manipulated me, Astarion. You took advantage of me, toyed with me and my emotions to get what you needed. That hurts.”
Astarion’s stomach twisted into a hard knot, “I know.”
“But you also didn’t need to tell me any of this. You could have kept pretending, kept up the charade until we faced Cazador… But you didn’t. Why?”
Now it felt like his stomach was crawling up his torso and into his throat. Gods, what was this feeling? Why did you do this to him. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. I failed with my plan. It felt apart the moment I realized… that I had fallen for you.” He admitted, but his fluttering heart made more words stumble out of his mouth. “And I know you probably don’t believe me, why would you after everything I just told you. Trust me, nobody feels more stupid about it than I do.”
You cut off his rambling, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that’s probably the most honest you’ve been with me since I’ve met you,” You said earnestly. “It would have been a lot easier for you to keep on pretending, wouldn’t it? Pretend I’m just another mark, another means to an end to get through the day.”
“I don’t want easy… I don’t want to just get through the day. Not anymore.” Astarion whispered across the small tent, staring intently at you.
You cocked your head slightly in question, “And what do you want?”
“I want this, I want us — to be real. You deserve something real.”
“So do you, Astarion. You deserve something real.”
Your name escaped his lips as a choked sob as overwhelming wave of emotion settled over him. “I don’t even know what real looks like. How do I give that to you if I—?”
“Do you trust me?”
The vampire nodded through his tears, “Yes.”
“I trust you,” You said softly.
“After everything I’ve done?” He croaked, waving his hands dramatically, “You’d trust a monster—“
You grabbed onto his extended fingers gently, squeezing them. “Yes, even then.”
He looked down at your hands touching, before intertwining his pale fingers with yours carefully. “Maybe you are a fool.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the sound waking up something in him he’d long thought dead. “Maybe, I am. But you fell for me, so what does that make you?”
Astarion’s mouth twitched up until it match your smile, “The luckiest vampire alive.”
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honeygrahambitch · 16 hours
Text
Will was awakened by his own heartbeat which indicated that sooner or later his heart might burst out from his chest. Covered in cold sweat, he tried to quiet his heavy breathing and focus on a point on the ceiling.
He would not wake Molly up again with his panic attacks.
There, in the darkness of the room, not sure if he was awake or not or even alive, he tried to sooth himself by counting. Anything that would distract his attention from his despair would do.
The darkness of the room was pierced by the dim light of the lamp from the other side of the bed. Will instinctively closed his eyes, as it he would be in fact sleeping soundly. Even if his t-shirt was damp. Even if his chest was rising and falling rapidly.
"Will?"
When Hannibal's voice came from next to him, Will finally allowed himself to exhale properly as he was starting to come back to his senses.
"It's fine." He replied as he opened his eyes to make sure that Hannibal was indeed there.
"You and I have different definitions for that word." He said and rolled to the other side, ready to get up from their bed.
"What are you doing?" Will asked, now fully aware of where he was.
"I am bringing you a glass of water from the kitchen. Need anything else?"
"Just stay here." He demanded.
"I'm staying here then." Hannibal said and lay back down, facing Will. His hand brushed away some sweaty curls off his forehead. "I'm assuming you had one fascinating dream."
"It was delightful." Will agreed and smiled defeated. "I woke up thinking you were locked up and I was sleeping next to my wife."
Will was not yet sure if Hannibal preferred to hear "Molly" or "my wife". He was, in fact, sure he preferred neither.
"And is that a nightmare for you, Will?"
"Idiot." Will's reply came instantly. He considered pushing Hannibal off the bed. It wouldn't be the first time. "Don't joke about that."
Hannibal bit his lower lip, visibly trying to keep a neutral expression. "You have more nightmares about that wife than I have about being locked up."
"My nightmares are less about "that wife" and more about your absence, for your own knowledge."
"Then I will just never leave again."
"You'd better keep that promise, dumbass."
"Romance is not dead."
"No, but you will be if you don't let me go back to sleep." Will warned him, turning his back to him.
"I love it when you talk dirty to me."
Will let out an audible laughter which he had to muffle into his pillow. "You're a sick man."
"Your sick man." Hannibal corrected him and spooned him, burying his face in Will's curls.
""
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eff4freddie · 23 hours
Text
Touch | Part Five
Tumblr media
You struggle to re-establish a purpose in Jackson. But the Miller brothers will always keep you on your toes.
Words: 5.2k
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), kind of subby Joel maybe?, like shades of subby, whimpers and groans, carpentry
Minors DNI
You envied people who didn’t remember their dreams. Yours lingered with you, so much accumulated horror for your brain to draw upon. The crunching of dried-out fungus under boot. The squelch of blood running over clenched fist. The screams of your sister, reverberating with the screams of your dad, of your mum, of yourself. Formless and vacant of hope, a belligerent and unrelenting slideshow.
You woke with a start in your own bed, alone and trying to piece together how you got there. After Joel had taken care of you on the coffee table you had slumped towards him, head on his shoulder, and took in all the air your lungs could get. The exhaustion was overwhelming and you had felt yourself go limp in his arms, dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you up the stairs. You’d had enough presence of mind to worry he was going to hurt his shoulder before he had you wrapped up in your blanket. You didn’t hear him leave.
You supposed you should be happy, but you had long started to suspect that it wasn’t really an emotion you were capable of. Even before outbreak day you’d had too much to worry about. You had already come to terms with the fact that happiness just wasn’t something your mind could do. Terror, though. That was your speciality.
At the bottom of the stairs, you peered through the front window at the rest of Jackson going about their day. Ordinarily, you would have been setting up for your first client, but you’d already cancelled them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into the treatment room, hadn’t been in there since your table collapsed. The excitement of Maria delivering, the thrill of being somewhat useful, had allowed you to forget for a second that your vocation, the one thing that had got you into Jackson and probably saved your life in the process, was over. Without the table you were limited to straddling grumpy men in your kitchen, and that was a whole different job.
You glanced in at the living room, eyeing the coffee table suspiciously. You were running out of safe rooms in your house.
You kept your eyes down at the mess hall, only glancing up once or twice to ensure that the coast was clear. You weren’t surprised to see that Ray wasn’t there, assuming that he was manning the radio with Simon trying to scout any danger for Marla and the crew. The expedition was expected to take several days, longer if the weather turned. There was no cause for alarm, no reason to assume anything was amiss. But you knew Ray, and that that wouldn’t stop him.
Halfway through your porridge a tray dropped onto the table in front of you, and you startled, snapping your head up. You felt your stomach flip, the rolled oats no longer sitting comfortably beside the acid and bile in your stomach.
‘Mind if I sit?’ Ellie asked, already settling into the chair. You shook your head, swallowing heavily.
‘No, course,’ you said.
‘You looked lonely, you always look lonely.’
‘You’re very observant,’ you said, not sure if this was truly a compliment.
‘We just got back to Jackson,’ Ellie said, undeterred.
‘So I hear.’
‘I think we’re staying for a while,’ she went on largely without you. Her eyes had drifted to the middle distance, and you could see that she was thinking.
‘And how do you feel about that?’ you prompted. Her gaze shifted back to you, and she shook her head as if the thoughts were clinging to her clothes.
‘I’ve seen you around,’ she said, and you got the feeling she was starting the conversation over again, to see if she could improve it a second time. You let her.
‘Yup,’ you said.
‘You touch people,’ she said simply, and you blinked, had no idea what to make of it.
‘Umm…’ you started, and she interrupted you.
‘Dina says it helps people feel good,’ Ellie continued, as did your concerns.
‘What exactly did she day I do?’ you desperately tried to clarify.
‘You rub people and they feel good.’
Nope. Not better.
‘Massage,’ you spat out abruptly, ‘it’s a kind of therapy, physical therapy…but not like, it’s not…it’s good for your muscles, for your spine.’
‘Right,’ Ellie said, as if this was obvious, and you were very relieved to have got that sorted out at least.
‘You massaged Joel,’ she went on, and you wondered how hard it would be to jam your butter knife into your eye socket and remove yourself from the conversation, if not the planet, completely. ‘He told me it helped. Well he didn’t tell me, but he was all angry and sore…more than normal…then Tommy made him see you and he was better after that. He was his normal grumpy self, not his sore grumpy self.’
‘I’m happy to have helped,’ you said. You had given up trying to predict where the conversation was going, and now you were just tagging along behind her.
‘You did help,’ she said, leaning forward on her chair, up on her elbows on the table. ‘I want to help, too.’
‘You…do?’
‘Yeah I thought I could…I thought I was going to but, it didn’t…’ She looked around the room, flustered, and dipped her head lower to murmur underneath the sounds of the other tables. ‘I thought that I could help people one way, but it didn’t work out, and I just want to see if there’s another…fuck it actually, this is stupid.’
‘No, it’s not stupid,’ you said, and you reached out to put your hand on her arm, but she pulled it back like you had burned her.
‘You probably think I’m too young,’ she said, rolling her eyes but also really seeming to mean it.
‘I was your age who I started learning,’ you said, and watched as her eyes lit up, finally rising back to meet yours.
‘You were?’ she asked, and you nodded, grinning at her.
‘I think so, yeah. I mean, how old are you, Ellie?’
Like a shot her smile dropped, and she slunk backwards and away from you, receding into the chair and appearing to you to deflate to half her size. ‘What, what did I…’ and then you realised, cursed yourself and your remaining three brain cells. She hadn’t told you her name.
‘Who’s been talking about me?’ she asked, so quietly you only just heard. You swallowed. You remembered what it was like to be a teenager, to be relentlessly comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines and on tv, to be relentlessly self-conscious, to be convinced everyone is talking about you and also worse, that no one is.
‘I asked Maria who you both were who you arrived,’ you said, deciding it was safer to talk about Maria then it was to talk about Joel. ‘I saw how Tommy reacted to Joel, and to you, and I didn’t understand what was happening so I asked.’
Ellie nodded, considering this, and you could see she had already worked out that it wasn’t the whole truth, but you hoped it was enough truth that she didn’t disappear on you.
‘What did she say?’ she asked, and you thought very hard and very fast to think of a good answer. You would have preferred a minefield.
‘Just that you were Joel’s kind of adopted daughter and that you’d been out of town for a while…and that she was super happy to have you back.’ You prayed the last part would ring true in some way, that it would be enough to reassure her. ‘Maria cares about you a lot.’
‘Maria doesn’t know me,’ Ellie replied. I don’t trust that he’s not keeping her in the dark.
‘She doesn’t need to, she just cares anyway,’ you said, and you meant it.
A loud group of teenagers, slightly older than Ellie if you had to guess, pushed into the mess hall and you watched as she pulled away from you even further, taking up residence about three centimetres back from her own skin. Her eyes were hard, vacant. You had seen the same look on Joel, and you knew then that she was a quick learner.
‘Ellie-‘ you started, but she was pushing her chair back.
‘Never mind,’ she said over her shoulder as she hurried away.
The mood in the town shifted over the next few days. Neither Marla nor any of the other crew had radioed in since reaching the third checkpoint, and there had been heavy, low-hanging clouds threatening the mountains. You had wondered about going in to see Ray, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would be any consolation. You worried, perhaps unfairly but also perhaps not, that you would say the wrong thing, that in your haphazard if well-intentioned way you would lose him, too. Instead, you stayed away.
You also avoided Joel. You felt the urge to keep a respectful distance, to try and pretend like it had never happened, like you hadn’t grasped his shoulders and come harder than you had in literal decades. You weren’t sure if you remembered ever having felt the way he had made you feel in an embarrassingly short period of time, but also you weren’t sure what it meant, if anything. If this was just something that Joel did, how he kept himself busy at the end of the world. You didn’t want to be his distraction, and you didn’t want him to distract you, especially when you had so much to pointlessly worry about.  
You’d had boyfriends, one before outbreak day and two and a half in the years after. A lot of the time it was convenience, sometimes protection, but never passion. You’d read that during times of national crisis birth rates skyrocket and you’d never been able to understand why. Nothing about a brain-obliterating fungus was all that attractive to you. You wondered if what had happened with Joel was just about you finally feeling safe. If it was less Joel and more Jackson. You felt better about things, if that were true. You hoped it was.
You took the short walk to Maria’s, a tray of lasagne in your hands that you’d begged and borrowed at the mess to be able to make. There wasn’t any oregano or basil, so you just got generous with the salt and hoped for the best. You thought about your mum’s cooking, which wasn’t really all that great either. Her method was throwing Italian herb mix in to any pasta sauce in the hope that it would make it taste better than the sum of its parts. It rarely worked, but you couldn’t blame a girl for trying.
You stood on Maria’s porch, not sure if you should knock. You were worried about waking the baby, or waking Maria, or that the wrong Miller brother would be home. You worried that you wouldn’t be welcome, that you’d done too much at the birth, that you had overstepped in some way that you weren’t aware of but that would make it impossible for Maria to now be your friend.
Just as you were about to leave the lasagne on the front porch and make a break for it, the door swung open, and you were met with Tommy’s surprised face.
‘Umm, hi,’ you said, taking a step away from the doorstep without even noting. Tommy looked down at your hands, took the lasagne from you and put it gently on the console inside the door, then wrapped his arms tight around you and pushed all the air out of your lungs. You couldn’t even gasp in surprise.
‘You…’ he said, and he trailed off, and you felt the warmth and the comfort of his arms, and you suddenly thought you might cry. You pulled away, fast.
‘How are they?’ you asked, and Tommy beamed. Looking at him now, you realised he was absolutely exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.
‘Come see,’ he said, pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. You could hear humming, contented gurgling, and followed it into the lounge room. Maria was sitting up on the couch, son at her breast. She smiled when she saw you, and you looked down at the baby in her arms, and felt love physically enter your body.
‘Oh Maria,’ you whispered, and she grinned back at you.
‘I am so fucking tired,’ she stage-whispered, and you had to try hard not to laugh too loud. His little fist was balled up and resting on her chest, and you could see the tiny thumbnail, purple and deep red, and it was too small and too precious for the world around it.
‘I have to go…run an errand,’ Tommy said quietly from the doorway. ‘Will you two be OK?’
Maria waved him off.
‘I ran off the other night before I asked you his name,’ you said, coming to sit beside Maria so that she didn’t have to turn her head to talk to you. She leant into your shoulder, and it was peaceful and warm and the kind of thing you do with a good friend, and you wondered if she’d object to adopting you.
‘We were going to go with Joel Junior,’ she said, and you wrinkled your nose.
‘Too alliterative,’ you said, and she nodded.
‘Also still not convinced about him,’ she said, and you felt something shift in your belly.
‘He was good the other night, with Tommy.’
‘He saw a lot of me I never intended him to,’ Maria said, and your heart sank. Should you have got rid of him? He was there for Tommy, you realised, not Maria. Should you have objected, said something? Had Maria been trying to telepathically tell you to do something, and you missed it? ‘It’s OK,’ Maria said, sensing the way your body had tensed. ‘I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, in fairness.’
‘You were kind of busy,’ you agreed. You listened to the baby suckling quietly, little contented grunts coming from his throat. ‘So, it’s not Joel Junior,’ you prompted.
‘Robin,’ Maria said. ‘There are so many here in Spring, and I love their little songs.’
You reached a hand out to cup his head in your palm. ‘That’s perfect,’ you said. For a long moment you just watched him, the peace of him, so wrapped up and warm and safe in the arms of his mother. You ached for your own for a second, before you pushed the thought away, told yourself this wasn’t the time.
‘It feels different out there,’ Maria said. ‘I can even tell, and I haven’t left the house in days.’
‘Vibes aren’t great,’ you agreed.
‘Tommy’s worried, but he won’t tell me.’
‘The expedition is just taking longer than it should,’ you said. ‘If there was anything to tell I’m sure he would.’
Maria regarded you for a long moment, and you realised she wanted more answers, but you had none to give her.
‘He’s like Joel, like his big brother,’ Maria said eventually, and you felt heat up the back of your spine. ‘Protective,’ she added. ‘To the point of locking you out in the cold to save you from the monster under the bed.’
You kind of wished Maria would stop dropping truth bombs on you, then leave you to work through the rubble on your own. You walked the long way back to your place, down behind the hall and past the lake, just to see if you could push her words out of your body through your feet.
It meant that you arrived back on your front step just as the sun was setting, and you were surprised to see the lights in your house on. You were sure you wouldn’t have left them on in the daylight. You pushed the door open, trying to remember if you’d locked it. No one did in Jackson, but you liked to when you were going to bed, partly to believe that you could do anything that might prevent some kind of harm.
‘Hello?’ you called down your hallway, thereby alerting any potential attackers to your exact whereabouts. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Jackson had definitely made you soft.
There were no weapons in your entry way. You considered whether taking your boots off and throwing them would cause enough of a head injury to get away, but it would be harder in your socks. In Chicago you’d kept a baseball bat beside the door, and used it only once.
‘That you?’ you heard a voice call, and you paused. Were you ‘you’?
‘Maybe?’ you called back, and you heard two sets of laughs. One deep and huffy. You’d recognise it anywhere. Your feet moved all by themselves.
Joel and Tommy were standing in your treatment room. The broken table was gone, and in its place a brand new, clearly custom made, massage table stood. Thin enough so that you didn’t need to climb on top of it to rearrange the towels, and just the right shape to give a body a warm and safe place to rest.
Your hand flew to your mouth, and you felt tears pushing hot onto your cheeks. Tommy grinned at you while Joel watched, careful and reserved. You didn’t have words, could barely wrap your head around what you were seeing.
‘You helped so well with Maria, kept her going when anyone else would have quit,’ Tommy said, while you were trying hard to breathe. ‘You did so good, so we wanted to say thank you.’
You let out a gasping, gulping, tearful laugh, nodding your head at him. ‘That’s OK, you’re welcome,’ you said, but you were laughing and crying simultaneously, so it was hard to know if you’d made any sense.
‘It was Joel’s idea,’ Tommy said, smiling at his older brother, who promptly blushed and looked ready to murder him. ‘Come look,’ Tommy said, extending a hand towards you and pulling you by the arm further into the room.
The massage table had built-in padding under a leather cover, that was attached to the wood with studs along the edges. The leather had clearly been something else in a past life, the stitching haphazard and criss-crossing over the base, but you would cover it with towels anyway. You pushed a hand out and pressed down on it, finding it delightfully spongey, and soft. You wanted to lean down and put your nose to it, inhale the leather, the warm sunshine on swatches of yellow and green fields. Inhale a different life, an older one long passed.
‘And here, this is the headrest,’ Tommy said, continuing his tour. ‘It sits in its own little track carved in here, see? So you can remove it or slot it back into place. Maria said that’s what the proper tables used to have, so you could lie face down.’
You nodded, confirming that this was indeed true. You reached out and put your hands on it, let your fingers reach underneath to feel the joins in the wood. They were smooth, carefully crafted. You knew they were Joel’s, carried his strong but gentle touch, his precision, his care.
You gazed at him, completely blindsided by the craftmanship and the generosity. The moment hung in the air, the two of you watching each other. You wanted to tuck your head under his chin and cry into his chest, wanted to rip his shirt off him and shred it with your teeth so he could never wear anything ever again, wanted to hold his face in your hands and keep it, not let the moment pass, let your hands on his skin secure the warmth there, hold the look on his face, for eternity.
‘I should head back,’ Tommy said, and you pivoted immediately towards him and threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you. ‘Now we’re square,’ he said, and you gurgled your acceptance.
After he left, you worried Joel would go, too. Worried that all of this had been obligation, had been at Tommy’s insistence, had been a way of winning Maria over. Worried at how badly you wanted him to stay, worried that it wasn’t just Jackson but that it was him, that it was always going to be him, and that right now every nerve ending was on fucking fire just because he was looking at you. You waited for him to grunt or nod at you and turn his back, but he stayed standing, his brows knitted together, one hand on his hip.
‘It’s beautiful,’ you said, because the tension was starting to mount now that Tommy had gone, and if he kept looking at you like that you were going to combust. Your voice wobbled, and you swallowed glue and razor blades to try and steady it. ‘Where did you get the leather?’
‘Found an old couch lying around, no bother,’ he said. His voice was low, like he thought you were going to run from the room, but in that moment you didn’t trust your legs. You nodded your head because words were failing you, but then suddenly you had too many of them, and they were all going to come out right now, all at once.
‘Its just that the massage table, I know it’s silly…but it was what I used to do before outbreak day, and it was kind of who I am or maybe I just think of it as that, but I just worry that if I don’t have anything to offer no one will keep me.’
Jackson. You’d meant to say you were worried they wouldn’t let you stay in Jackson. But that wasn’t at all what you’d said.
Joel took two steps forward, grabbing your face and rubbing at the tracks of tears on your cheek with one hand, the other snaking behind you to hold your back. You gasped, staring up into his brown eyes, the salt and pepper of his beard, the lower lip you wanted to nip with your teeth. You waited for him to say something, anything, but holding you was also enough. Under his patient gaze your breath slowed, you stopped feeling your heart thundering in your chest, felt your shoulders drop.
‘Joel…’ you whispered, and he was on you then, head dipping down to bite at the skin behind your ear, hand roaming over your hips to cup your bottom, grind you into him, where you felt him hard and heavy against your core.
‘Let me-‘ he started, but you stopped him, gripping him by the shoulder and pulling away.
‘No, let me,’ you said, suddenly bold under his wanting touch. ‘Table’s fixed now, so there’s no excuses.’
He cocked and eyebrow, blinking at you. ‘You want me on that?’
‘What’s the matter, don’t trust your craftmanship?’
‘Baby, a massage isn’t exactly what I-‘
‘Down to your boxers and face in the hole,’ you said, grabbing a towel from a nearby stack and putting it down on the leather.
‘You could at least help,’ he said, grumpy again, and you grinned happily at him.
‘I’ll step out and let you get ready,’ you said, in full-blown professional mode, just to fuck with him. He sighed, but he did as he was told, and you really fucking liked it, actually.
Once he was on the table you draped him, making sure he was comfortable. You rubbed your hands together to make them warm, then poured some cooking oil – the best substitute you’d found so far even if it did make the residents of Jackson smell like fried chicken – into your hands.
‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you warned, and Joel grunted. You were glad he was face down so you didn’t have to see the expression on his face.
You started with his left leg, draping the towel over his hip and tucking it between his thighs. Straight away you could feel the tension there, the tightness of the calf, the hamstring ready to snap. You ran your hands in a vee-shape, thumbs tucked one over the other, up the back of his leg, stopping just below his glute, which you briefly considered leaning over and sinking your teeth into.
Joel’s skin was soft, and unbelievably hot to the touch, and you had to try hard to focus on what your hands were doing so that you could ignore the little whimpers, the little gasps, as you found and massaged away a knot. You ran your hands up the outside of his thighs, felt the muscles jump and tremor under you, dug your fingers into his hip flexors and heard him exhale, an almost sigh, as they released.
You got into trouble when you got to his back. You were aware of the fact that you were soaking your panties, worried that he would smell your arousal, worried that if he kept making noises like that you were going to drown yourself. You worked hard to keep your breath steady, remembered your lessons and imagined dousing yourself in freezing cold water, jumping from your back porch into the frozen lake below Jackson, hoping that might give you some relief.
The wide planes of his skin were marred by scars, by shadows of pain and hurt and memory. He carried a scar, an old one, on his right side, a graze that looked like a bullet, that you decided to ignore. As you pushed hard along his spine he grunted, the muscle seizing under your touch, and you worked against it, kneading at them like dough, lifting the fascia and breaking it down, working the adhesions, until it was buttery and smooth. You focused on Joel’s breath, saw the way his chest expanded as he inhaled, felt the enormous man, so scary and so gruff, so mean and so soft on the inside, gradually give in to you. You felt him relax, the tension leaving his shoulders as you worked them, careful to release the deltoid, to ease off the trapezius now that you could finally get at it properly.
You were tempted to leave him there, relaxed for maybe the first time in years, but you roused him, rolled him onto his back, put a folded-up towel under his head and another over his eyes to protect them from the light. With his face covered you could take your inventory of him. The scar on his right side, jagged and angry and new, the reason he’d been favouring it finally clear to you. The soft smattering of chest hair leading down to a light trail on his pelvis. The towel covering him, but not enough to hide the fact that he was hard, that he had tried to tuck his cock into the waistband of his underwear but that it was too thick, too long to stay fully hidden.
You moved up to his head, to his salt and pepper hair, and carded your hands through it, lifting his head and holding it in your fingertips. You watched as his eyebrows knitted together again, unsure, but then releasing, his mouth dropping open, as you heard his breath, ragged, escaping through his teeth.
‘Let me take care of you, baby,’ you whispered to him, right above his ear, mimicking what he had said to you on the coffee table, what had made you instantly wet and aching. You gazed down his body at the way his cock jumped. ‘Let me take care of this body.’
You let your fingers dig in a little to his scalp, a quiet little moan escaping him, the covering over his eyes giving him a sense of privacy as you unravelled him. You wanted to lean down and suck his bottom lip into yours, wanted to climb on top of him and sink your pussy onto his Roman nose. Wanted to come on his face and his fingers, wanted him to splash his come onto your chest.
‘This body that protects us,’ you whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, on his cheek beneath the towel. Putting his head back down and moving to massage his left arm, lifting it by the wrist and rubbing your hands over his bicep and onto his chest. He glistened, the oil mixing with his sweat under the overhead light, and you couldn’t stop yourself, then, couldn’t help but to bend and place a kiss on his clavicle, licking up to nip at his neck. You felt him shiver, a soft whimper escaping with his breath. You moved your hand from his wrist to his palm, held his hand with yours.
‘This body that serves us all so well,’ you said. ‘Let me take care of this body.’
He gasped when you kissed his belly button, licking and nipping down his happy trail to where his cock was now straining hard against the towel. You pushed it away, taking his cock out of his underwear and pulling them down on his hips, so that you got your first proper look at him.
As you expected he was thick, the veins on the underside pulsing, straining against his want for you. The head was so red it was almost purple, and you wondered how long it had been since a woman touched him like this, since he’d been touched at all. His hand grasped yours, the other fisting the towel underneath him.
When you slipped him into your mouth, inviting him into you, he groaned, grunted obscenities flowing from him. His cock was hot on your tongue, salty as he dripped pre-come into your throat. You kept your eyes on his face, his still covered, as his stomach rippled and his body tremored underneath you. With your other hand you steadied him, reaching up and holding the shaft while you bobbed, sucking hard on the head. You took a second to breathe, leaving little kitten licks on his frenulum, feeling his free hand let go of the towel and grip you by the hair.
‘Fuck, baby’ he grunted, his hips thrusting, pumping up into the air.
‘So strong, Joel,’ you said, before reattaching your mouth to him. He threw his head back, and you considered the irony of him breaking the brand-new table he’d built just for you by coming so hard he splintered the wood beneath him. His body was quaking, his hips bucking up into your wet, warm mouth and it was everything you had dared imagine it would be, right down to his gasping encouragement, down to his needy little whimpers that turned into moans of outright pleasure, of the feeling hot and electric right down to his toes.
‘Jesus, you’re gonna make me…’ he gasped, and you looked up at him, the towel having fallen from his eyes and him staring down at you between his legs, his hand on the back of your neck gentle and guiding, supporting the muscles as you worked him. You kept your eyes on his and your mouth on his cock as he shook, hips rolling, rutting against your pumping hand.
You slipped him from your mouth. ‘Just let go, baby. I got you,’ you said, covering him again as he did just that, shooting ropes of hot salt and desire across your tongue, holding your hand, groaning at the relief of it, at the release, and in that moment you had him, in that moment he was yours, gasping for breath and so soft and languid, looking down his body at you in awe and in wanting, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.
Taglist:
@orcasoul
@archofimagine
@hiroikegawa
@littlemisspascal
@ilovejoel-andjavi
@giggly-otter
@harrysrosetatto
@Hjzghi-blog
@daddy-dins-girl
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azrielwingspan · 1 day
Text
THE CHOICES WE MAKE - PART 2 (AZRIEL X READER)
Summary : Things escalate as you hastily try to find a solution.
Warnings : Swearing
PART- 1
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Vallahan council chambers)
"I've given you one duty, Y/N. Just ONE." your king seethed at you as you stood in front of him with your head bowed. "How could you be so ...useless?" The words sent a sharp pain through you, but you ignored it. Later, you'd let it hurt you. "The border is nothing more but rot as far as the eye can see. What are you going to tell those who've lost their homes?"
You stood in silence, head hung in shame, taking the verbal blows. Pathetic. That's how you felt.
"Get out. I'll deal with you after I've dealt with this." You left obediently, not letting him see the tears lining your eyes. People had lost their lives because of your inability to do your job. Silence echoed in your mind as you tried to think of something...anything.
There was only one thing left to do.
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(The River House, Velaris)
"I don't care about the cost. I need the book, Rhys. PLEASE"." you almost begged. You could see the conflict in his eyes. He was hiding something, you were sure about it.
"Y/N..." taking in a deep breath, he blurted out "it's a trap. Koschei, he...wants the book. He's trying to lure us."
You let the words sink in, understanding dawning upon you. "We're just supposed to watch people die then?" He didn't respond, choosing to look away.
"W-we'll prepare for it. We'll set up a legion to stop---"
"He's too strong. A legion won't be able to stop him. I didn't want to say this Y/N...but the lives of a few over the lives of many is a tough decision I have to make."
A beat of silence passed, the words sinking in. Your vision turned red, the words spewing out of you like wildfire "A TOUGH DECISION YOU HAVE TO MAKE?! I have blood on my fucking hands, Rhysand! I stood and watched as my people were fucking slaughtered. DO THEY NOT DESERVE TO FUCKING LIVE?!?!"
He almost flinched as you raised you tone. You didn't feel guilt though. You felt pure undiluted anger coursing through your veins at the entire situation. "The most powerful high lord cant manage to save a couple of people ?! Fucking pathetic. You sit here in your nice little city watching over your people that aren't fucking aware of anything, those shit---"
"THAT IS ENOUGH." Rhysand roared, a pulse of his power rushing through the room. It washed over you, momentarily stunning you into silence. "Don't you dare bring my people into this. They don't deserve your anger."
The door to Rhysand's office burst open revealing Azriel, Nesta and Cassian.
"What's going on?" Azriel asked, eyes flitting between you and Rhys.
"Your darling brother just told me to stand by and watch my people die." you sneered.
"Y/N, we'll figure out another---" Rhys started.
You raised a hand to silence him. "I know where your loyalties lie Rhysand. If it were the people of Velaris, you wouldn't have thought twice."
"You're right." Nesta spoke up, eyes brimming with a challenge. "Then why are you still here?"
"Ness!" Cassian admonished her, which she ignored.
"Watch your fucking mouth." you said flatly to her turning your gaze back to Rhysand. "You told me you'd always be there no matter what. I see there was a limit to it."
"Y/N, please." Azriel followed you out the door, pushing past Cassian. "Just calm down and listen.."
You whipped towards him , anger flaring again "Calm down?! Do you know what I've been through the past few days Azriel? Everyday I wake up to a list of dead fae. They died because I didn't do anything. They died because I had a solution and I couldn't carry it out because your shithead of a high lord and your fucking sister in law would not let me. So no, Azriel, I will not calm down."
"Hey...hey.." he stepped closer to you cupping your face in his hands. His warmth and scent did nothing to calm you but you let him speak. "I'm sorry. I will never stop asking for your forgiveness for this moment but I need you to keep a clear head. I promise I'll help you out. We'll find another way okay? If not, I'll speak to Rhys again. He'll understand."
"Just...leave me alone. I don't need false promises." you walked away from him not paying attention to the hurt splashed across his face.
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(Your private chambers, Vallahan)
"It's a bargain." The sting of the bargain across your skin filled with you hope once again. You'd found a solution.
"I hope you won't go back on your word Lady Y/N." the male seated across you spoke, a tinge of suspicion in his voice.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to." you wiped the blood on your palm with a wet cloth and traced a finger along the cut across you palm.
"Very well." he stood up "you have a week to fulfill your side of the bargain."
"You have a day." you say flatly, not wanting to extend the conversation any further.
A dark chuckle echoed through the chambers, the fire casting eerie shadow across the walls. "It shall be done."
Footsteps walked away from you, each one in sync with your thudding heart. It had to be done. You had no choice. You told yourself repeatedly.
"Oh and Y/N...." you turned to face him at the sudden change in his tone. "when you're done breaking the shadowsingers heart, come find me. Your fire is best suited for the Autumn court."
You almost scoffed at his offer but instead chose to stay neutral.
"Goodnight, Eris."
He gave you a mocking bow and left the chambers, his red hair glinting in the firelight.
TAGLIST:
@lilah-asteria @anuttellaa @paankhaleyaar @blackgirlmagicforever @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @fxckmiup @koffeevibes @starryhiraeth @mx13sworld @mp-littlebit @brieflyclassymortal
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fatalfairies · 2 days
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BFF!SATORU GOJO X READER
Bff!Satoru who loves you more than than a best friend should but a feels a pang in his heart he remembers that the labels you both share are just of best friends. Nothing more
Bff!Satoru who chuckles when you get tired of walking and jump on his back wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.
“Tired of walking already ma’am ? I thought you were the one who suggested we walk instead of bringing the car.” He teases you with a playful tone
“Or maybe you aren’t strong and is unable to carry me ? I hope not,so shut up and do your job” You say teasing him back
He laughs,his arms gripping your thighs more secretly,”Yes ma’am.”
Bff!Satoru rings the doorbell of your apartment drenched as it is raining heavily outside with some bags of your favourite snacks in his hands. You told him that you were craving snacks as you were in your time of the month but you couldn’t even order them as it was heavily raining outside.
Bff!Satoru who is more your boyfriend than your best friend,the local shops you visit with him usually assume you both are girlfriend and boyfriend unless you specify otherwise that he’s not which puts a pout in his face.
Bff!Satoru who is disgustingly rich and spends most of his money behind you gifting you things most people wouldn’t imagine having,as a love language
Bff!Satoru who pretends he can’t understand this particular subject just so that you can teach him and you’re aware that he’s playing dumb but you won’t complain because if he likes to play dumb you like to play smart
Bff!Satoru who thinks you’re his lucky charm and always makes sure to take you with him or atleast see you before an important event and he always comes back victorious
Bff!Satoru who knows that he treats you better than anyone can and he isn’t ever accepting a competition
Bff!Satoru who despite his lavish upbringings learned to cook,bake and do chores just because you never learned them either and he doesn’t want you work so hard on those when he’s there for you
Bff!Satoru who watches you with a soft gaze as he’s laid on bed with a high fever and cough and cold as you take care of him and feed him. A part of him secretly wishes that he gets sick everyday so that you take care of him everyday.
Bff!Satoru who has lost the count of all the matching outfits he has gotten both of you with cheesy themes and sometimes cute
Bff!Satoru who feels his heart shake when he thinks of confessing his love for you but he’s afraid to ruin the friendship you both have.
“Y/N,I have something to confess.” He says rather seriously
“Yes,Satoru ?” You say looking at him with a soft smile on your face
He feels scared again as he quickly comes up with an excuse “You have an eyelash on your cheek” He says chuckling before removing it from your face gently
“So serious just to say that ? You’re so silly” He says chuckling as lets out a faux laugh feeling scared as he almost confessed his feelings without knowing what the consequences might be.
Oh how could he be so lucky yet damned at the same time ?
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kafkaguy · 2 days
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why did head (1968) flop so badly, you may ask?
the short answer is: terrible promotion. why the promotion was so terrible is another question entirely. there are two schools of thought: 1) bob rafelson and jack nicholson were being deliberately avant garde and obtuse (maybe to attract a certain psychedelic audience) or 2) deliberate malicious intent from columbia pictures to get rid of the monkees (by November 1968, when the movie premiered, the monkees TV show had been cancelled for 2 months).
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(LA Times, 2008)
what exactly was the ad campaign? Well, it was originally supposed to be Bob Rafelson's head displayed for a few seconds smiling at the camera--according to Wikipedia this was a spoof on Andy Warhol's short film Blowjob (1964). but in the end it was John Brockman, even more unknown, and he was just the guy who was supposed to be filming the clip.
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from Andrew Sandoval's The Monkees Day-by-day Story (page 210). explains more about why they did this. Micky also says he thinks it was a way to get back at the monkees for striking on the first day of filming when they found out they would get no creative credit for the film and had been "getting ripped off pretty badly" basically for years.
another factor was the critics reviews. obviously Head is not your average film, and loads of reviews looked down on it as psychedelic garbled trash. they didn't get it. there were positive reviews of course, but most people just didnt get it (and you cant really blame them - its at its most enjoyable when you are a) a bit of a freak, b) a total anti-capitalist, or c) substantially aware of the horrors the monkees were going through at this point. no film critic at the time ticked all 3 of these boxes). i think at this point bob rafelson panicked, because he wanted the film to do well, he just wanted it to do well independent of the monkees (hubris). there's a funny story about the night before the movie premiered in new york, he and jack nicholson got arrested for putting up stickers promoting head, after jack tried to put one on a police officer's helmet. and it makes me wonder why he then didn't fight harder for the film to do well.
it's funny (re: sad) how so many things came together to bring about the doom of the film: bob rafelson and jack nicholson's own cockiness about how well the film would do, their complete disregard of the what the monkees themselves wanted, the studio being tired of the monkees/already having cancelled the show, the whole phenomenon dying out a little since record sales had gone down (the last album they put out was in february 1968 - by this point it was november, and the Head album wouldn't be released until December)...
another peter quote because I trust him the most (again from the day-by-day story, page 210)
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Mike over the years has said different things, at one point calling Head an assisted suicide (pertaining to his own desires to kill the monkees phenomenon and be seen as a serious musician), at other points calling it a murder (which i think is how peter continued to see it throughout most of his life, while simultaneously recognising its artistic and cinematic merit, and also saying the soundtrack was the record he was proudest of besides headquarters 1967). but here's something Mike said in the Head commentary (some time in the early 2000s) which i find simultaneously funny and devestating:
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so yeah. the main conclusion is that nothing was in Head's favour for it to do well. there were conflicting visions, conflicting motivations, a total lack of interest from Columbia pictures, and no one was on the Monkees' side, not even really the monkees themselves. the world just wasn't ready for the crazy anti-monkees monkee movie. their swag was too different. everybody wanted to kill them. but they didnt have to cos they killed themselves it happens right at the start of the movie and again at the end. WATCH HEAD.
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doodle-pops · 2 days
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Finrod NSFW Alphabet
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Request: Hello 👉👈 I really love your writing and since your requests are open if you're up for it could I ask for some NSFW headcanons for Finrod? I deeply enjoy this blonde blorbo 💜 thanks and be healthy - Anon
A/N: It’s always a pleasure to write one of these alphabets for the elves, especially for our golden boy. I hope you’re staying well also. Enjoy!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The air is quiet, however, he’s still energetic after having sex and would cuddle you like an overly ecstatic puppy while touching some part of your body. It’s usually him pulling your sweaty body halfway on top of his while his hand wander and touching your back, butt and thighs. Finrod doesn’t mean for it to be an initiator for another round, he simply enjoys the proximity of the bodily contact you two are sharing in the moment and doesn’t want for it to end or be limited to simply lying beside each other. At the same time, when you manage to catch your breath and haven’t fallen asleep, likewise him, he would inquire about your next move. His voice is tender, yet, deep as he asks if you would like to have a bath run, something to eat and drink or lie in bed and talk? Once he receives his answer and is aware of your body status, he returns to being the cuddly bean that he is.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
It’s your eyes. Those gorgeous eyes of yours he loves endlessly. He wants every act to involve you looking into his eyes because the eyes never lie; they are the windows into one’s soul and he wants to know how lost in the pleasure or in love are you. All those whimpers and pleads are usually followed by your eyes softening or becoming puddles as they roll or cross when the pleasure is just right. He loses his mind when he knows how close you are and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, which drives him wild. It allows him to calculate his next move with accuracy and precision to make you lose your mind.
On him, it’s between his mouth and fingers because he’s exceptionally skilled at bringing you great forms of pleasure using those two. He simply loves when you beg him to use his mouth, guiding him to where you want him most or how he whispers sinfully into your ear as he holds you down to finger you. His ability to drive you crazy with his body parts makes his ego run wild and he uses them to his advantage.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Not a messy person to begin with and prefers releasing inside you, on your thighs or in your mouth if you provide him with a blowjob. While his desire to impregnate doesn’t run explicitly as the rest of the members of his family, he enjoys the sensation of your walls milking every ounce of his cum out of his cock. It’s a feeling he experienced and became hard to ignore anytime you two are intimate. The rare occasion when he doesn’t desire to finish inside you is when you’re rewarding him with an earth-shattering blowjob, which he can’t refuse.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
As regal and majestic Finrod appears, he enjoys the days when you take the weight of dominance off his shoulders and take the lead in bed. Yup, he’s a switch and revels in the dynamic. Not all the time he want to be giving the pleasure even he receives; he wants to see what tricks you have up your sleeves and how well you can take the lead and return satisfactory pleasure to your King. The sub side of him tends to appear when he’s down on energy or when he’s in that roleplaying headspace. However, he tends to lean on the dominant side more often than the sub.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He read lots of books and heard discussions from his lawless family members about the basic do’s and don’ts when it comes to intimacy. Finrod isn’t a skittish person when it comes to daring acts when it’s new to him. This is something he faces with passion and determination; it’s both your pleasure on the playing field and he isn’t wanting to take it as a joke. His first time with you would be full of confidence, leading you to believe that he’s done this before—he’s a natural. Anything outside of the basics would require experimenting and your input should you have intel, and he isn’t one to shy away from learning new intimate activities.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Finrod is a simple person and would go for missionary as his most used position because he wants to get lost all up in your eyes—you have gorgeous eyes he wants to see, okay. It’s such a raw and intimate position in his eyes that allows him to grant you the world of pleasure, plus, he can manoeuvre your legs anywhere he enjoys while choosing the pace he wanta to deive hismelf into you with. Furthermore, in this position, he gets to have access to your body to utilise his mouth, meaning his pretty lips are whispering sweet praises in your ear or attached to your lips, neck and chest.
Riding him is another favourite position because he gets to watch you riding him like a stallion. Those hands on his chest leaving behind moon crescents, or the up and down motion of your body causing your breasts to jiggle spurs him on. His own hands can’t help but reach out to ‘assist’ as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. It’s an easy-to-access position when you slip into his study or throne—should he be up for a quickie—or when he wants to lead you under the false impression that you’re in control of the session. So easy it is for him to buck into you, pinning your arms behind your back and take over. All you can do is hang on for the ride.
On mornings after your night together, when his energy might be too low for him or you to get on top, he’ll opt for spooning. In this position, it feels like he doesn’t have to rush, and you don’t have anywhere to go as the world unravels around you two as the morning awakens. Your leg resting in the crook of his elbow as he spreads you wide enough for his cock to sink smoothly into your heat, while he presses soft kisses to your shoulder as he takes his time carrying you off to your climax.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He’s capable of being both goofy and serious during sex, it all depends on the reason. If he’s jealous or the moment calls for a touch of sentiment, Finrod would hope that you would understand his reasoning and respect the atmosphere. Laughing during times like that would lead him to believe that you didn’t care. Anything outside of those moments, Finrod wouldn’t mind revelling in a burst of hearty laughter if he or you made a mistake, or the moment requires great joy to be expressed. You two probably knocked heads or slipped, leading to you laughing at each other’s eagerness.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Sadly, elves don’t have body hair and Finrod is remarkably famed for the hair he had on his head compared to what he has below. So if you peeked, it is clean.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Finrod has his own way of making every sentimental moment romantic and full of love. I’m sure there were times when you two slept and it was simply pure fucking for the sake of pleasure and relief, but there are times when he wants to romance you. This is when you get introduced to body-worshipping Finrod who doesn’t stop until you know your worth and you are incapacitated, in a good way. His mouth is attached to every inch of your skin, whispering sweet words as he kisses and bites while having extreme body contact—like he’ll rest half his weight atop you to pin, but also want to let you feel him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I can see him masturbating if it’s done under mutual masturbating and voyeurism. Other than that, it’s hard to see him touching himself when he’s alone. Don’t get me wrong, he would touch himself to thoughts of you, but he would rather you watch as he comes undone to the thoughts of you that consume him, putting his cravings at the back and waiting for the right moment to gift you that sight. So if he was thinking of you, he’ll wait when you’re alone in your chambers and gift you the magnificent sight of witnessing how crazy you drive him.  
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
One of Finrod’s weaknesses stems from his titles being used to get him either on his knees or feral. He adores when you address him as ‘My King’ or ‘Your Majesty’ which already announces his position, however, he likes to take it up a notch and introduce roleplaying. He has admitted to enjoying the use of domineering titles being used on him, so he opts for roles that grant him access to hearing names like, ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’. The cheeky devil finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of pleasure when you’re playing a servant or a merchant, desperate for your King to grant you favour.
Whether it is a kink or not, he has the strangest fascination watching you squirt. It brings out a childlike wonder in him, especially the first time it happened, and he inquired about it. That was all Finrod needed to get to work using every technique in the book, and like I said, he’s skilled with his mouth and fingers, so it will be achieved with ease. Just seeing you gush a waterfall which is derived from the satisfaction of the insurmountable pleasure he’s giving you makes him content. He doesn’t always make you squirt every session, since the time and place prevent that, but when he’s in the mood to, count your blessings because one is not enough.
Believe it or not, sensory play is also a favourite of Finrod. He’ll introduce blindfolds and elven ropes to leave you on the edge as he strips away your sense of sight and touch, even going as far as to remove hearing as he becomes a ghost on his feet. One minute you’ll be feeling the feathery touches of his fingers, and the next, you’re experiencing his cock pounding into you. When you’re incapacitated like this, his teasing tends to go up a notch, denying you any and all chances to feel his body against yours except his cock, fingers or mouth.
A massive body-worshipper which grants him access to quite a few other kinks up his sleeves like bondage. Nothing extravagant or elaborate, just a few simple bonds to your/his wrists and ankles, and he’s good with that. All that’s left to do is to relax and enjoy the oncoming pleasure either of you would grant the other. The only difference between you two is that Finrod is a massive tease and revels in teasing you as he worships your body; making you beg or confess how beautiful you find yourself if you desire his touch. However, he doesn’t appreciate the favour being returned excessively; tease him, but not too much. He’ll tug against the restraints, easily breaking out of them, before pinning you to the bed and asking, ‘What was so funny about teasing me so much?’
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Mostly in his chambers, study, the courtroom and his home (in Valinor). You can get him to participate in a session in the forest if you two are camping, at a spring or a waterfall and the area if safe. It wouldn’t be wise if his guards were standing outside while he was taking you because it meant that he couldn’t hear your sweet moans and cries of his name. So, he would ensure that his guards weren’t around before he indulged.
Whispering ‘My King’ or ‘Your Majesty’ in his ear late at night or in private easily gets his blood pumping. He’s doing his best to restrain himself as he grips his quill with every effort not to snap it. The desire to pounce on you is strong yet hangs by a thin thread and grows more dangerous each second you wander about his space, taunting him. Finrod is also quite proud of his accomplishments and himself, so praising him also goes a long way in getting him to conform to your wishes to of having him in bed. Run your hands across his muscles, his clothes and through his hair giving small tugs, tell him how good of a King he is to his subjects and that you wish to pay respect to his kindness. He’ll easily allow you to have your way.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Nothing that would involve infliction of pain, blood or violence. Extreme BDSM would be out of the question to Finrod as well as any use of weapons. Furthermore, he isn’t going to be pleased with sharing or having others watching.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Like his older cousin, it’s no joke that he has an oral fixation as well and his mouth has to be on some part of your body. Finrod is a pleaser and he’ll eat you for both his pleasure and yours. Spending hours between your legs while it’s wrapped around his head suffocating him helps to relieve his stressful days as King. All he has to do is bat his pretty lashes at you and you’ve succumbed to his desires. There are times when he keeps his crown on and informs you to come sit on your throne while flashing you a lopsided grin because he knows what he’s doing. This is the one time where he doesn’t let up because he can’t get enough of your taste. Your legs could be shaking, you could attempt to push his head away and he’ll continue; this is after all for both you and him.
When receiving, he doesn’t shy away from accepting the act, however, he has a preference for you pleasuring him in other ways, so you’ll have to push him down. Or you can sneak into his study and suck him off from under the table while he struggles to keep a straight face and focus. During those moments, his hands would gently cradle your head as he leaves you to do your thing at your own pace…until you decide to go extra slow and tease him. That’s when he’ll grumble before guiding your head along his length or if he’s standing, thrusting into your mouth. It’s the one time when he’s rough while receiving oral.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Finrod leans towards slow and sensual whenever he’s intimate. This means that he’s a slow and passionate lover, enjoying deep, long, and slow strokes that are almost too much for you to handle before speeding up slightly, leaving you breathless or begging him to ease up—he doesn’t because he enjoys how flustered you become with his thrusts. This isn’t to say that he can’t get rough from time to time. For him, being rough only comes when you make him jealous, he’s heavily stressed or being a damn tease. This is when his thrusts are swift and rougher than usual, perhaps a slight bit of manhandling might happen in the moment. But to say the least, his rough side is enjoyable when he’s pinning you against some surface.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Quickies are a thing you would depend on due to both your hectic schedule as leaders, and he would follow along. Most of the time, it’s him helping you out when you require relief since he isn’t as horny as you unless you purposefully rile him up by calling him one of his titles or wearing a tight or low-cut neckline. Otherwise, he genuinely goes along because he doesn’t have an issue when you desire him to please you. And here is where he gets to use his mouth and fingers most to get you off. It is on the rare occasion that he undresses and fully takes you, leaving you to take charge in the form of riding him.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
I believe that the biggest risk Finrod is willing to take is allowing you to crawl on your knees to him in your submissive role. The act to him is debauched because you shouldn’t ever be on your knees in that manner, but there’s something sexy about watching you crawl over to him dressed in your finest lingerie or naked, to greet him. It’s different compared to when you’re on your knees sucking him off. Either the predatory or innocent look in your eyes as you look up at him makes his brain shut down for a split second before he gets serious. It’s the only lowly act he considers taking a chance to participate in.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Should the moment surround love and sentiment, Finrod is willing to have two to three rounds for the night, stretching each out to over thirty minutes. He’s worshipping you from head to toe every round because he is a passionate lover who leaves his touch quaking in your bones when he’s finished. However, if he’s jealous, everything is rougher and longer, as in five rounds until you understand that it’s he you should focus on and belong to. Of course, he gauges your responses to know if you can go for more.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Since toys, like what we have, don’t exist in Middle Earth, there aren’t many options to choose from if he were to indulge. To him, the idea of including toys would be great on your behalf since it would allow you to pleasure yourself when he couldn’t. The most he would request is to be present when you use them, so he can enjoy the performance while sipping on a glass of wine. Blindfold and elven ropes, something they have, would be included frequently in your activities since you mentioned that you enjoyed the heightened pleasure they added.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Yes, Finrod is a massive tease who hates to be on the receiving end when the tables are turned. He wants to drive you mad and have you moan, cry and beg for his touches; it fuels his ego to learn how much you crave him. Just listening to your whimpers as his lips ghost the shell of your ear as he tells you how much he desires you, knowing that you’re unable to do anything because you’re in public. The wicked, innocent, grin he throws at you before he saunters away, leaving you in a mess. But if you return the favour, he’ll take it for a while before growing impatient and pouncing.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
I have to say, his moans are heavenly. Quite angelic, especially when he tosses his head backwards to allow his golden curls to fall while releasing sweet notes, emphasising how good you make him feel. Either that, or he’s in your ear moaning like crazy, knowing how his voice makes you wetter and come undone faster. He isn’t excessively loud, but rather soft whimpers and moans like his goal is to seduce you with them, and he succeeds.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Finrod has a mirror kink which is a category under his love for body-worshipping. It goes both ways because he wants you to witness how you come undone with every touch, stroke and whisper he delivers so diabolically while you also desire the same with him. If you have an issue with your confidence, you can bet yourself that mirror sex is going to be a frequent occurrence until you can get it into your head that you’re beautiful. He’ll force you to watch as he takes you, the only time he’ll have you from behind, and force you to repeat after him, ‘I am beautiful.’
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Hmm, for someone considered one of the many beautiful elves to exist, he sure does have a pretty package. Well endowed, not too thick or thin, just the right length and girth to smoothly enter without any discomfort and carries a gentle weight, so he feels just right. He’s a shower that has a few veins running along the surface with a pink tip that stands out. Finrod is incredibly proud of his appendage as it matches his good looks, allowing him to have both a pretty and well-endowed cock.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is quite low. He doesn’t crave sexual intimacy as much as you probably would, hence why he would invest in toys of all sorts for you, once he can access them. In the early days of your relationship as a newlywed, he would experience the same need to be as close to you as much as possible and spend more time behind closed doors, wanting to understand your body and bask in the joys of being newlyweds. But as time rolled on and the newlywed phase disappeared, so did his urge. Being dutiful to his people and with the ongoing war, his focus lies elsewhere. Perhaps twice to thrice a month, you two indulge to keep the flame burning.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It takes him a while to fall asleep due to his boundless energy. Leaving you after having a moment isn’t an act he enjoys since in his eyes, it makes him believe that he's using you, so he always stays. Most of the time, he’ll be the one awake while you’re curled up in his arms, fast asleep. Should you manage to have the energy to stay awake, some pillow talk would help to sedate him. Once he does drift into slumber, Finrod becomes a cuddler and a sleep talker. Softly murmuring your name as he snoozes and clings to you like a bear cub, he refuses to let you go the entire night.
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Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @addaigio
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mosaickiwi · 20 hours
Text
Your Actual First Kiss
@taeee0902 first kiss with redacted fdsjklfsdjalk
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
~Your Actual First Kiss~
Hiding their nerves behind his normal cool demeanor, [REDACTED] let you push them down on the couch and lay atop his chest. You’d been getting bolder in the past few weeks of dating and he was ecstatic about it. Still, he always played a passive role as you got comfortable, intent on having you set the pace for every encounter.
You fiddled with the collar of his shirt for a while, then shyly asked, “So… when can I kiss you?”
“Whenever y’want,” came their instant reply. He’d been patient for the moment you were ready, but felt just as delighted that you asked them.
“Right now?”
[REDACTED] blinked for a second, blood warming his cheeks as he muttered, “‘Course, Angel. It’d actually… be my first.”
“Really?” you asked innocently, smiling and leaning down over him.
They knew you were only teasing. He’d never even think of giving their first anything to anyone other than you. The man could feel the redness crawling further up to his ears as you leaned closer.
You suddenly pulled away and frowned to yourself. “I’m a little disappointed it’s not my first, though.”
His blue eyes widened a fraction, though the information wasn’t a surprise to them. Well aware of your past relationships—and all the ups and downs they entailed—he immediately knew which one you were thinking about. “It’s not?” they gently pried, testing the waters of how much you wanted to open up. 
“Yeah, it was a long time ago. The relationship was kind of… messy?” Your brow wrinkled and your tone turned a touch softer as you dwelt on it. “I wish it never happened, honestly.”
He couldn’t voice his own thoughts just yet. Their heart sank at the idea that they couldn’t go back and fix it—to make sure you’d never have such an ill gotten memory that made you upset, no matter how small. It’d be easier to give you a better experience now.
“Then it didn’t happen,” [REDACTED] decided aloud.
You raised your eyebrow and crossed your arms over his chest. “But it did?”
“If y’don’t like it, ‘didn’t happen,” he repeated. He absently brushed a hand through your hair, lingering at the nape of your neck. “Y’can try again with me, yeah?”
“Oh…” The frown on your face quickly melted away, replaced with the shy, devious smile you wore when you pushed him down earlier. “Yeah.”
Lips parted, breath caught in his throat, your ever-patient hacker waited as you leaned down once more to bring your lips close to theirs. He could hardly form a thought the moment they felt your breath, then your warm skin. 
It was everything he imagined it’d be. From how they felt your heart beating in an uneven rhythm with his, down to the way you tasted was just what he dreamed of each night. One kiss from his angel was worth the seemingly endless years of waiting.
As you pulled away—no doubt stealing what little breath remained in them—he followed after, the desperation he normally kept at bay rising to the surface as he held you close with their hand on your cheek. 
“H-how…” [REDACTED] laughed, caught off guard by the butterflies in his stomach that made them trip over their words. “How’s that? Better?”
You bit your lip and he noticed the sparkle in your eyes as you had to fight off your own butterflies. “Perfect, Ren,” you whispered.
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sentinelpri · 3 days
Text
To Be Selfish (NSFW)
Kakashi Hatake stands at the village gates with a ratty binder in his hands, flipping between multiple pages as the cool morning air blows through his silvery locks. 
A map, blurry pictures of the two men he’s been ordered to kill, descriptions of their jutsu, and a note with their most recent location following an encounter with another one of Konoha’s Anbu, who was found just over a night ago. 
It should be enough information for the two of you to succeed.
The time on his watch shows that it’s just past six in the morning. The sun is rising and painting the sky blue, purple, yellow, and orange in its wake. It’s cool, but not cold, though the incessant breeze in the air makes goosebumps raise on Kakashi’s arms while he waits for you.
Kakashi was ordered to meet you here at five thirty. Supposedly, the Hokage informed you of the rendezvous location as well. Kakashi was late due to him stopping to see Obito, Rin, Minato, Kushina, Might Dai, and his own father at the cemetery. Now, it’s half an hour past the time you were supposed to meet him and you still aren’t there.
Kakashi isn’t sure if you’re ditching him or if you’re going to show up late on purpose to piss him off. As the captain of Team Ro, he’s always tried to maintain decent relationships with his subordinates; you, Itachi, and Tenzo. However, the moment you were added to the team, it was clear that you had a bit of a crush on Kakashi. You were getting too close, trying to coddle him on missions, making him food, bringing him gifts, and constantly putting yourself in harm’s way for him. 
Though you’re much different than Rin, your behavior wasn’t. Kakashi still has nightmares about his old friend impaling herself on his chidori almost every time he tries to sleep for his sake, for the village’s sake- and he knows that, if something like that happens to him again, he’ll fall into the darkness and be unable to get himself out of it. 
He can’t lose someone again. He’s too damaged to do it again.
Admittedly, his solution to the problem may not have been the best one he could’ve come up with. Instead of having a genuine conversation with you about his past and telling you that he isn’t in the mental space to get attached to another person right now, let alone one who’s constantly in danger while working in Anbu, he did what was easy and pushed you away. He chewed you out for defending him during missions, belittled your abilities, avoided you at all costs, and rejected anything you tried to give or do for him- and rather than the cold indifference he’s so used to pushing people away with, he did it in the most hateful way possible, just to make sure it worked.
And it did. His plan worked better than he ever wanted it to. Now, instead of the puppy-like crush you had on him before, you hate him. Kakashi is fully aware that it’s his fault, but he’s too embarrassed to come clean to you. He also knows that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness for how he’s hurt your feelings. So, he continues to pretend to hate you. Neither Itachi nor Tenzo have dared to ask about it, but it has negatively affected the team dynamic during training and missions.
Kakashi starts to assume that you aren’t coming and turns to leave, but right then, he hears slow and quiet footsteps approaching. He looks over his shoulder to see you in full armor, (h/l) (h/c) hair pulled back and your (e/c) eyes sparkling under the rising sun. If Kakashi’s body goes hot, he blames it on the impending sunlight, rather than on his love for you. 
It’s not you that makes him burn bright red from the top of his forehead, to the tips of his ears, to his neck, to the top of his chest…
Okay, maybe it is.
But you don’t need to know that.
“It’s not like those two to be late… They’re not late, are they? Why is it just us?” You ask, looking around as if you’re waiting for Itachi and Tenzo to appear. Kakashi can’t help but be disappointed by how bothered you seem that it’s just him. “I’d rather really not be stuck alone with you. The other two are much more personable.”
“Seems like Tenzo and Itachi are still in recovery after the last mission, so they couldn’t come along. Honestly, though, this shouldn’t require too much manpower. I don’t know why the Hokage is having me take you,” Kakashi coldly replies, even though the Hokage told him whether or not he made you come on this mission was up to his discretion since he’s the captain of Team Ro. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You huff.
“It’s supposed to mean that I could do it by myself.”
“Then why am I here if I could be in bed right now, you fucker?”
“Just in case.”
“See, you’re not nearly as confident as you say you are.”
“Don’t question me. I am your captain.”
And, as always, you immediately question him.
“What are we doing, anyway?”
“We’ve got a couple of B-rank assassins on our hands from Kusa. Our job is to take them out and dispose of their bodies.”
“There’s only two and they’re both B-rank? Why are they sending us?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “That’s honestly a little insulting considering we both have S-ranks in their bingo books over there.”
“While neither of them are particularly talented, their combo ability is dangerous,” Kakashi says. When you open your mouth to ask yet another question, Kakashi interrupts by rambling on, mostly because he’s skirting around explaining the enemies’ jutsu to you… It’s rather lewd and uncomfortable, to say the least. “That’s why S-rank shinobi are required to take them down. Don’t underestimate your opponent just because of their bingo book ranking. They could always be downplaying their strength.”
“Well? Spill; what is it that these guys do?”
Kakashi freezes. In order to succeed in this mission, you have to be aware of what your enemies are capable of. Still- it’s awkward to actually have to talk about something sexual, especially with you. 
“It’s, uh… Sex pollen,” He stammers out after a little too long.
“Sex pollen?” You tilt your head back and laugh, pointing a finger at him as if he’s joking- no, as if you’re making fun of him- even when you can clearly see the embarrassment that’s painted on his face. “Like in those weird fucking books you read?”
“Oh, shut up,” Kakashi turns his body to avoid your gaze. Honestly, he prefers the way you were before- sweet and considerate of his feelings- but he also knows that your constant teasing makes him want you even more than he did before for whatever reason. He continues to avoid your eyes, but hands you the binder full of information about the shinobi you have to assassinate and their location so you can read through it. “Anyway… Yeah. The jutsu caster releases a type of pollen into the air from nearby plants that acts as an intense aphrodisiac. It’s apparently so intense that, once you’ve inhaled it, it takes effect within half an hour and leaves you unable to do anything until you find relief.”
You quirk a brow up at that, confusion lacing your expression.
“Find relief?”
Kakashi sighs.
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
“I need all the details I can get if we’re going to fight these people, Kakashi. Don’t be such a prude.”
“Relief as in… Orgasm with another person. Pretty much, you’re left without the ability to fight, so the enemy has an opening to kill you while you’re vulnerable. If you somehow manage to escape them before it takes effect, but don’t find the ‘relief’ you need to break the jutsu, it’ll put so much pressure on your heart from the increased blood flow that you’ll die after a few hours- that is, if you can resist the urge to screw whoever’s closest. It’s much different than natural human arousal, or even anything that any medications could cause.” 
“It’s strong enough that even skilled shinobi can’t resist it? And why can’t you just masturbate to get rid of it?”
“Apparently even strong shinobi are vulnerable- it just takes longer for it to take affect. If you try to make it go away by masturbating, it won’t work. One of our guys was found dead from it recently because he went solo and tried to take care of himself after inhaling it, and they managed to get a sample of the pollen from his lungs and nasal passageways to take for testing, but the medical core hasn’t been able to come up with an antidote just yet. They said it’s very complicated and that they’ve never seen any other pollen like it. In the meantime, they want us to take care of the two; they’ve gone rogue from their village and been using this ability to kill any shinobi who try to capture them, and they’ve even used it to rob innocent civilians so they can afford whatever lifestyle it is they’re living as rogues.”
“Wait, you said there were two of them. If there’s one using this pollen jutsu, what does the other one do that’s so dangerous?”
“While the first is from a clan that can use this pollen-based jutsu, the other is from a neighboring clan that has a natural immunity to the released pollen. In Kusa, the two clans are known to work together for missions frequently,” Kakashi explains. “So the jutsu user would be able to inhibit us with the pollen, while the shinobi with the immunity would strike immediately after and remain unaffected, as to allow the jutsu user to focus on keeping us under the influence of the pollen.”
“Sounds tricky.”
“Precisely. It seems that they’ve been blessed with these kekkai genkai but are still relatively unskilled and have been wounded by shinobi unaware of their abilities. Even though they killed him in the end, the last ninja we sent out apparently wounded them both really badly before he went down,” Kakashi finishes. He takes the binder from your hands and returns it to where it was in his backpack. “So if we can find them in time and strike while they’re vulnerable, we’ll be able to take them down without an issue.”
“And that’s why you brought me, right?”
“Yes,” Kakashi answers. You were born with a rare kekkai genkai that not only allows you to sense chakra from a much further range than the average sensory type, but also allows you to sense whether the person’s primary chakra is wind, lightning, earth, fire, or water. “As talented as I am, I’m no sensory type.”
“So, really, you couldn’t do this by yourself,” You grin, playfully smacking Kakashi’s shoulder.
“I could use my hounds and do it by myself just fine,” He argues. “You, however, require less chakra use from me since I don’t have to summon you.”
“I bet you wish you could.”
“I’m glad I can’t. It’s not like we need to be any closer than we’re made to be,” Kakashi sighs, but he finds that all he wants is to be close to you. Still, there’s no making amends for how he’s treated you lately- all in a fucked up attempt to push you away just because of his own issues. “Last I heard, they were on the border between here and Kusa, on the north side. That’s around where they found the Anbu they killed, and with how injured they supposedly are, there’s no way they’ll make it too far without running into us. If we make good time, we’ll be able to find them.”
“You really trust in my tracking abilities that much?” You question.
You’re looking for validation. Kakashi can tell. Lately, he’d tell you ‘no’ or that you’re just more convenient than any alternatives, but even if it feels impossible, he wants to fix things. So, he tries to choose his words carefully.
“As much as I hate to admit it…” Kakashi pauses, then responds. “Yes, I do, but don’t let that get to your head.”
“Fine,” You huff and walk ahead with your arms crossed over your chest. “Let’s go, then.”
~
As much as you love Kakashi Hatake, you also despise him.
The two of you arrive on the south side of the border between Konoha and Kusa after a long, awkward, silent journey. Kakashi didn’t utter so much as a word to you during the multi-hour walk. 
When the two of you arrive at the cabin, you thank whatever god is out there for the fact that Tenzo exists. Shortly after you were assigned to Team Ro, the brunette started using his jutsu to build small cabins for you all to stay in, particularly on certain borders or in certain cities that the four of you frequent often for missions. With Kusa being a developing ninja nation compared to the major five, Konoha ninja are sent there frequently to assist them- and, behind the scenes- to keep them under control, lest they upset the balance between the ninja nations that has only just now started to settle after decades of war. 
The cabin is good, but still one of the worst ones. You don’t mind it much as you’re mostly just excited that you don’t have to sleep outside in a tent.
Being on a mission with Kakashi is stressful enough.
When you walk in, you’re reminded that there’s only one large bed. It wouldn’t be unusual for you and your three teammates to share it, but now that it’s just Kakashi here… Your heart flutters in excitement.
Much to your disappointment, however, as you shut the door behind you and set your bag down, Kakashi starts to complain about the arrangement.
“Only one bed. Of course, the one time we get landed in a place with one bed, it’s when I’m on a mission with you instead of one of the others,” Kakashi shakes his head and carelessly drops his bag to the floor. He doesn’t even spare you a glance as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls out his stupid book. It’s crazy to you that he reads romance novels all the time, yet ignores your obvious feelings for him. “And the thing’s big enough for four people… I’m going to ask Tenzo to start making more beds when he assembles these mission cabins for us.”
“Oh, please, Kakashi,” You reply and sit on the back of the bed. “I’ll be sure not to lay anywhere near you. Hell, I’ll sleep on the floor if you want.”
“No, don’t,” Kakashi quickly objects. The tiny bit of his cheeks that peeks out from beneath his mask is dyed bright red with a blush. “Your uh… Your back will hurt.”
You blink at him, then ask-
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes,” Kakashi answers as if he’s not being weird about this. You just continue to give him the most incredulous, judgmental stare you can possibly muster. “Our mission could be compromised if you’re in pain.”
“Okay, great! You’ll sleep on the floor, then,” You respond with a shit-eating grin that you know pisses Kakashi off more than anything.
“No, I won’t.”
You shrug.
“Then I’ll sleep in the floor and compromise our mission.”
“Just get in the bed,” Kakashi grumbles and strips down. You watch before you can think better of it, but if Kakashi notices, he doesn’t say anything. Your mouth waters at the sight of his bare back, muscles and pale skin covered in a flurry of scars. The defined muscles he has shift underneath his arms and shoulders as he- disappointingly- moves to the very edge of the bed and lies on his side with a blanket dragged on top of him to cover up his body. His mask remains on his neck, which bothers you, but you know better than to pry about why he wears the damn thing 24/7. “I promise I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”
At that, your heart skips a beat. Unless you want him to? Does that mean that he wants to? You struggle to speak, stuttering over the words you’re trying to force out. The worst part of you wants to make fun of him, but all you can do is ask him to clarify what he meant.
“Unless I want you to?”
“That came out wrong,” Kakashi quickly mutters and squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Just… Lay down. I’ll sleep on the edge. Pakkun will keep watch for us outside and wake us up when enemies come or when eight hours have passed- whichever comes first.”
“Fine,” You sigh and strip down to your underclothes as well. You swear that you feel Kakashi’s eyes on you, if only for a second, but when you check to see if he’s peeking, his eyes are still screwed shut. You lie on the side of the bed opposite to Kakashi, facing away from him and staring at the wall to save you the embarrassment of getting scolded or told to go away like he would’ve done back when you made your feelings for him obvious. “Goodnight, Kakashi.”
“Goodnight, (y/n).”
~
Kakashi wakes up in the middle of the bed. He’s always moved a lot in his sleep, but he’s still surprised to find himself turned onto his other side with his arms wrapped around…
You?
Yes, you. You’re fast asleep, snuggled into Kakashi’s chest as he holds you in his arms. Your face appears so peaceful like this, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks and your sleep-rustled hair framing your face. You’re only in a tank top and the shorts you wear under your uniform, so your warm (s/c) skin is pressed up against Kakashi’s. He notices the soft peaks of your breast squished against his chest and decides that enough is enough. He’d hate for you to wake up and see him holding you like this, especially when it wasn’t intentional.
He pulls away from you and checks the time on his watch. It’s only been six hours since the two of you went to sleep, but that should be more than enough. He’s stayed up for days at a time for missions before and he doesn’t want to waste so much time sleeping that the enemy manages to get away. 
Careful not to wake you up, Kakashi showers in the bathroom, changes his clothes, and goes outside to talk to Pakkun, who he had keeping watch overnight.
“Pakkun, anything to report?”
“I sent Biscuit to scout everything nearby. Seems like animals can’t sense this pollen from the reports you showed me before,” Pakkun answers. “But he sniffed out a couple ninja close by. They’re north of here, staying in a small shack. He said they smelled nervous but that he didn’t know if they were aware of you being nearby or not. Need us to guide you to where they are?”
“No, thank you. You’ve been working for more than six hours straight now, so you’ve done enough,” Right as Kakashi says that, he hears your footsteps. You stand in the doorway just a couple feet behind, listening in. “Plus, I’ve got (y/n) here to help me pinpoint them now that you’ve given us a general direction to work with. Please, go rest.”
“Stop acting like I’m old and need to rest all the time, Kakashi. It’s not like I’m on death’s door,” Pakkun huffs, scratching his paws against the dirt floor. “Not that I don’t appreciate the extra naps…”
Pakkun disappears in a cloud of smoke. Kakashi looks at you over his shoulder. Your hair is damp and the pleasant scents of perfume, soap, shampoo, and conditioner waft off of you in gentle waves. He assumes you must’ve showered right after he finished and went outside to communicate with Pakkun.
“Let’s go,” He says.
You silently nod. The two of you pack up, erase any traces of your shared presence from the cabin, and head out. 
Once again, the journey is silent. 
You and Kakashi travel up north by foot, staying in the trees of the forest so you can’t get ambushed from above or below. Neither of you talk, even as you get close to where the enemies are supposed to be. Kakashi still feels awkward about how he woke up this morning, and he isn’t sure whether or not you cuddled into him last night on purpose- or if you even know that it happened. You seem like you’re still mad about the spat the two of you had about the sleeping arrangements.
“I’m sensing two strong chakra sources up ahead… About half a mile,” You pause, stopping on a random branch and closing your eyes so you can focus on sensing the chakra signature. Kakashi listens and places a firm hand on one of your shoulders to keep you steady. “They’re high Chunin level, maybe low Jonin if they’re injured or trying to mask their chakra. I’m sensing water and earth in one of them… And the other is totally unfamiliar. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
“Wood style is a combination of water and earth, so it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that someone who uses a plant-based kekkai genkai would use a combination of water and earth style. The other one is immune to the pollen as well as various types of poison but hasn’t been sighted yet using any elemental jutsu, so who knows what kind of chakra they have… These must be our guys. The jutsu has a range of about thirteen hundred feet, so we can’t alert them of our presence or we’re done for.”
“What should we do?”
“I’m surprised you’re consulting me,” Kakashi responds, to which you open your eyes and shoot him a sharp glare. “Hide your chakra and be as quiet as you can. We’ll stake out to see what they’re up to and get the drop on them.”
“Okay.”
The two of you eventually locate the shack you were told the enemies would be in. There’s a small window that you can see through as the two of you hide on the branch of a tree, seemingly out of sight from the two men. One of them is a brunette who sits at the table with his back facing the window. The other is a blond who stands across from the other, facing the window. Both are in standard Kusa ninja uniforms, and the blond has a standard Kusa forehead protector with a slash cut through it.
“We’ll wait until they move to do something or start talking to each other. Then I’ll use my chidori, break through the window, and kill them both,” Kakashi strategizes. “Your job is to follow close behind me. When I hit the first one, there will be a split second for the other to try and escape or counter me if he’s skilled enough. If he tries anything, kill him or find a way to keep him in the path of my chidori without getting yourself hurt.”
“So, what, you get to do everything and I’m just here as your contingency plan?”
Kakashi rolls his eyes at that. 
“Pretty much, so get over it.”
Just then, the blond shinobi starts to talk to his partner. His face changes. He appears paranoid and panicked. Is there any way he could have sensed you and Kakashi? …No, if that were the case, they would’ve moved to attack by now.
Everything seems to be going well enough, and the two men seem distracted. He makes eye contact with you and gives you a nod to let you know that you should ready yourself for combat.
You nod back. 
Kakashi channels his chakra to his hand to activate the chidori. With how fast it is, neither enemy should be able to do much of anything in retaliation- at least not in time to cast the pollen jutsu on him, especially with you acting as back up. 
Kakashi takes a deep breath and looks over at you. His heart starts to beat harder in his chest. Arousal shoots throughout his body like electricity. For a moment, he assumes it’s because of your presence, but then he catches a scent that’s… Sweet, just like how that pollen has been described to smell.
Kakashi looks at the enemy again. The one sitting with his back to the table seems relaxed, as the one standing upright a few feet in front of him is holding a hand sign; casting a jutsu.
“Shit,” He whispers.
“What is it?”
“Are you stupid? Or can you just not smell anything? We inhaled it, it’s sickeningly sweet,” Kakashi hisses, shaking his head to try to get the smell out of his nostrils. It doesn’t work. Just then, you slap your hands over your nose, seeming to have gotten a whiff of it too. “The enemy must have been using his jutsu as a precaution!”
“What do we do?” You demand, panic lacing your expression.
“Kill them now before they have the chance to take advantage of our weakened state,” Kakashi orders, and knowing the dire situation, you don’t argue with him.
“Yes.”
The two of you continue with the original plan. When Kakashi charges through the window with a ball of lightning attached to his hand, the two men look incredibly shocked to see that he’s even standing, and don’t have the time to counter him. Within a minute, both are dead on the floor of the shack, but the effects of the pollen don’t subside. Kakashi rushes to wash the blood off of his hands in the sink while you sit on the floor with your (s/c) cheeks flushed and pathetic little pants falling from in between your lips.
“This is bad…” Kakashi covers his masked nose with his hand, but it doesn’t help in the slightest.
“What does it matter? They’re both dead now! Shouldn’t it wear off?”
“That doesn’t mean anything- just because they’re dead doesn’t mean that the jutsu doesn’t have any effect. That’s like saying a fire style jutsu won’t burn a forest down after being shot at a tree just because you killed the user afterwards,” Kakashi scoffs, but he’s barely even able to form logical thoughts, let alone get the words out. Any normal civilian would’ve fully succumbed to this pollen by now and either had sex with the closest person or died. “Go look and see if you can find an antidote on him or the other one.”
“Why do I have to do it?” You complain with a pouty lip.
“Just do it! The pollen’s already starting to get to the both of us, and if we don’t figure something out soon, you know what’s going to happen.”
“Shit,” You gasp. You’ve quickly searched both men’s weapon pouches and bags, but based on the defeat in your voice, Kakashi assumes you didn’t find anything. “There’s nothing but kunai and paper bombs!”
“What about in their pockets?”
You quickly search the mens’ pockets.
“Nothing!”
“God dammit,” Kakashi straightens his back, then roughly grabs you by the bicep and drags you up so you’re standing on your feet. “We have to get out of here, now.”
“Shouldn’t we split up?”
“Are you insane? If they have any back up coming and they catch us alone with the state we’re about to be in, we’ll be killed. You know it’s not uncommon for rogue ninja to work together in large bands. This could be a hideout, and if more of them come back and find these ones dead, we’re done for!”
“What, like an enemy catching us fucking nearby instead of alone would be any better for us?” You shoot back. Kakashi can’t help but be angry that, regardless of your previous feelings for him, you’d literally rather split up and risk both of you dying than dare to have sex with him. “At least if we’re alone, we die with some dignity!”
“Why does dignity even matter at this point if we’re like-” Kakashi groans and gestures wildly to himself; his head, which is fuzzy with lust, and his dick, which is hard as a fucking rock- then to you. “Like this? I refuse to compromise our lives to save your pride!”
“So, what?” You yell back, throwing your hands up in frustration. “We have to do it or we die?”
“I can’t reasonably violate your consent, but if it’s what we have to do to stay alive, and you’d let me,” Kakashi breathes out. He’s so ashamed of himself for letting this happen to the two of you that he can’t even meet your eyes. “Yes.”
“Look, Kakashi,” You gather your composure for just long enough to form rational thoughts and tell him- “I know you don’t like me, but we have to figure something out. Let’s get back to camp and resolve it from there.”
At that, Kakashi sighs. 
“Who ever said I didn’t like you?”
Unsurprisingly, you don’t respond. Your mind is so clouded that all you can do is focus on getting back to the cabin without tackling Kakashi to the ground and taking him for yourself right then and there.
Worst of all, Kakashi can’t say that he’s doing much better.
~
When the two of you return to your hideout, you find yourself sitting hunched up in the corner. Meanwhile, Kakashi is restless, suggesting alternative solutions that both of you know won’t work.
“It’s getting worse,” Kakashi murmurs, frazzled and aroused. You’ve never seen him in either state let alone both at the same time. Kakashi is your captain, the rock of your team. As much as you act like you hate him, and as much as you boast about your own power, his consistent strength and talent at getting your team out of bad situations is what keeps you from spiraling in circumstances such as this. Now that he’s spiraling, you’re even more panicked, knowing that there’s no way out of this. “I can barely think.”
“I can see that,” You say the words as condescendingly as you can, but if you’re being honest, the sight of Kakashi’s length straining against his already tight pants is enough to make your situation worse. Even with the thick black cloth of the Anbu uniform, you swear you see all seven- or maybe six?- inches of it twitch. You force yourself to roll your eyes and look away from the man, who frantically paces the room. “If your dick gets any harder, it might burst through your pants. Seriously, looks like you could cut fucking diamonds with that thing.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing much better,” Kakashi snaps back at you. 
You offer nothing but a sardonic sort of cackle in return regardless of the fact that his words are true. You were so hot that you stripped yourself of your shoes, socks, pants, and armor as soon as you made it through the door of the cabin- Kakashi’s presence and your dignity be damned. You wore the stupid ‘sexy’ (f/c) bra and panties that you keep in your underwear drawer at home, on the off chance that you’d act on your feelings during this mission and get the chance to have sex with your captain.
You laugh even harder at the thought of that- if only you’d known just yesterday what would happen. Now, the two of you are in this cabin together, hormones going crazy, drenched in sweat, in desperate need of relief, with you in your soaked panties and Kakashi’s clothes soaked in blood. 
“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”
Kakashi sits on the floor in front of you. He’s close- too close. It takes everything in you not to climb on top of him and rock his world. 
“Why do you think I don’t like you?”
Of all things… Of all things, in the situation the two of you are in, horny out of your goddamn minds and using what little restraint you have left to keep from jumping each other’s bones without consent, Kakashi is asking about your feelings. 
You thought you were easy enough to read.  
You thought that, eventually, Kakashi would look at you and figure out that you’d loved him from the start and still do, even after everything the two of you have said and done to each other.
Apparently not.
“That doesn’t matter right now,” You snarl, gritting your teeth and clenching your legs together in hopes that it’ll put an end to the arousal pooling between them. If anything, the friction makes it worse, as even the slightest pressure on your clit has you biting your lip to keep from letting out any noise. “It’s not like you care.”
“Of course I fucking care,” Kakashi yells. You’ve seen him angry, sure, but you’ve never heard him yell. You snap your head around to look at him so quickly that your neck hurts as your (e/c) eyes go wide at his words. “Why do you think I had you come with me on this mission in the first place?”
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I love you,” Kakashi suddenly confesses. He holds his head in his hands as he pulls his knees up to his chest. Your ears start to ring so loud that you don’t hear the rest of what he says. “And I thought I could do it by myself, but I knew Itachi and Tenzo were still in the hospital, so I dragged you with me anyways because I was selfish and wanted to spend time with you alone for once- and now we’re like this, and it’s my fault.”
“You shouldn’t love me,” You object, cheeks red and mind racing. You’re not sure if it’s the confession or the pollen that’s causing it, but you find that your heart is beating so hard and fast against your chest that you can’t even swallow because you can feel it in your throat. “That’s not right- it can’t be! Why would you be so cold to me all this time if you loved me?”
“Because I was stupid and didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I was scared of losing you like I’ve lost everyone else I’ve gotten close to, so I pushed you away… But I promise you, (y/n), I love you more than anything.”
“It… It can’t be.”
“It can’t? Then tell me how to stop, (y/n). Tell me how to stop loving you,” Kakashi demands. He pauses, carefully waiting for a response. He pulls his forehead protector off and tosses it across the room. It hits the wall then falls to the floor with a clatter. Briefly you wonder what it would be like for him to use that sort of brute force on you, but you’re distracted by Kakashi’s ungloved hands on the sides of your face and his eyes peering into yours; one a deep charcoal and one a brilliant ruby red that you swear glows against the darkness of the house under the night sky. “No, seriously. Spare me.”
“I thought you hated me,” You whisper, closing your eyes to avoid Kakashi’s.
“I don’t.”
“What, so you brought me back here instead of having us split up so you could fuck me? Because you love me? Is that what you want?”
“You’re kidding me,” Kakashi shakes his head at you and jerks his hands away from your skin like you’re poison. He turns his back to you, groaning. “This is the opposite of what I want. I…”
“You what?”
“I never thought you’d return my feelings again after how I treated you. I still don’t expect you to,” Kakashi sighs. His gaze flickers from the wooden floor to your face. Finally, when his eyes meet yours, you see the genuine emotion in his face- and you’re able to swallow your pride. “But if you did, I wanted our first time together to be…”
“What, romantic? Sweet?”
“Yeah,” Kakashi answers, then scoffs. “This must be hilarious to you.”
At Kakashi’s apparent defeat, you soften. Even after everything that’s happened… You can admit that the two of you have been meaner to each other than what was ever necessary.
“A little bit. I can’t say I didn’t expect it, though. I’ve seen the books you read,” You offer an awkward sort of half smile and scoot forward so you can rest a reassuring hand on Kakashi’s shoulder from behind. Unsurprisingly, he flinches at the touch. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t move away or tell you to stop. “But I’d lie if I said I didn’t want the same thing.”
“You mean you…?” Kakashi trails off and looks back at you from over his shoulder.
“Mhm,” You nod.
Kakashi hurriedly turns around to face you again, putting both of his hands on your shoulders and gripping them tight.
“I don’t want you to have sex with me just because of- of this,” He says, frustration lacing his voice, to which you offer a half-hearted shrug.
“We don’t have much of a choice, unless you want to die here,” You climb into Kakashi’s lap and yank his mask down before he can object. The garment hangs loosely around his neck. You continue as you take in the sight of his face; so beautiful, with scarred porcelain skin, red cheeks, and soft-looking lips. At this point, most shinobi- and every average civilian- would’ve broken and given in to the urges of the sex pollen jutsu by now. You’re also desperate to get some sort of relief- and more so, desperate for Kakashi himself after having waited so long for this. “The quicker we get it over with, the quicker we can go home, and the higher chance we have for survival.”
“Fuck, you’re right,” Kakashi grumbles and carries you to the bed, where he sits with his back against the bedframe and your body still in his lap. You flinch when he reaches into his weapons pouch at lightning speed, only to be pleasantly surprised when he flicks a kunai upwards to cut your armor, shirt, and bra into pieces. The garments fall onto the floor and leave you exposed to his lust-glazed eyes. “Let’s get started, then.”
“You owe me a new lingerie set, asshole. You better buy me one when we get back, because that was expensive, and I wore it for you,” You scold at the sight of your bra, undershirt, and armor cut to shreds and being thrown to the floor by one of Kakashi’s large hands. “Armor, too.”
Kakashi doesn’t even dignify your orders with a response- instead choosing to focus on your other comment
“You wore them for me, did you?” He hums You stare in awe at the sight of his exposed face. “That’s… Actually really sweet, (y/n).”
“Don’t be such a sap,” You scold and move so you can take your underwear off and toss them to the floor. “And while we’re at it, it’s unfair that I have all my clothes off while you’re still fully dressed.”
“Then help me get my clothes off before this pollen makes me lose my mind. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
You do as told and help Kakashi strip off his socks, pants, and boxers. Your eyes go slightly wide at the size when his hard dick springs out from underneath his clothing. 
You climb back into his lap and pause. 
“I never thought I’d see you like this.”
“I never thought I’d get to see you like this either,” Kakashi smiles. You realize that, even after this, you would like to see his smile more. Seeing his face without that stupid mask on it is refreshing after so long of only receiving that cold one-eyed stare of his. “Can I touch you?”
“Sure, just do it slowly to start with.”
“I can do that.”
Slowly, just as he promises, Kakashi touches you. He starts with squeezing your thighs and your ass. When you shudder at the motions, he continues by running his hands up and down the length of your waist, then moving them back up to cup your tits and fondle them tightly. His lips are on you seconds later; on your belly, up to the center of your chest, peppering your (s/c) skin in kisses before one of them is wrapped around your nipple. He sucks the bud to full hardness and pinches the other between two of his fingers, then alternates until both are fully stiff under the cool air. 
The effects of the pollen are starting to get to you. You were the one who instructed him to take it slow, but waiting for him to give you the relief you so desperately need is killing you. You can feel the thoughts in your head becoming less coherent.
Kakashi pulls his mouth away from you and reaches between your legs. At first, he simply touches your folds and playfully explores the area as if he’s teasing you. Just as you’re about to scold him for doing so, two fingers are being thrusted in and out of your soaked entrance. You groan and curl forward. You’re so, so relieved that you’re finally being touched, but so frustrated that you still need to cum for the pollen to wear off. Kakashi uses his thumb to toy with your clit and watches his drenched fingers disappear into you with intent.
“A-Ah… Don’t look at me like that,” You pout, glancing at the wall past Kakashi’s shoulders. “You’re making me self-conscious.”
“There’s nothing for you to be self-conscious about, especially compared to me,” Kakashi responds in a low tone. Your eyes snap back to him. What does he mean, compared to him? Regardless of his hand palming you and his deft fingers teasing your clit between your slick folds, you find yourself staring at Kakashi’s body. What could he have to be self-conscious about…? He has a perfectly sculpted body, beautiful porcelain skin, soft silver hair, dainty thin lips, and sharp eyes. The only things you could think of would be the infinite amount of scars he has, but you’ve never thought anything of them. “You’re beautiful, always, but especially like this.”
“You don’t have anything to be self-conscious about either, you idiot.”
Kakashi doesn’t say anything to that, instead looking at where he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt, and then up at your sweat-dampened face. 
“You ready?” Kakashi asks, to which you nod your head. 
Kakashi gently pulls his fingers from you and lines the head of his cock up with your entrance. It’s large enough that your eyes widen at the sight of your hips being pulled down onto it. You’re so wet that he gets it in without much trouble, but the tightness and the friction of it has both of you letting out a choked sort of noise and melting into each other. 
“Kakashi,” You cry out as you struggle to take his length all at once. Even with the slight amount of prep he did mixed with the pre-existing slickness from the pollen, it’s so large and thick that the stretch borders on painful. “Kakashi, I can’t-”
“What, you can’t handle me?”
“I can-” You start, then gasp when Kakashi’s hands on your hips shift your lower body closer to him. Your tits are pressed flush against his upper chest, your belly brushes against his shredded abs, and you’re filled to the brim with his cock. When he bucks his hips up into you to meet the bounces of yours, he slips a hand between your legs and massages your clit. With a sharp inhale, you manage to force out the following words as you dig your nails into his shoulders. “I can handle you.”
“Typical (y/n). You’ve always loved to challenge me,” Kakashi whispers, nipping at the shell of your ear as he does. “Fuck…”
Kakashi pulls back to look you in the eye. In the darkness of the cabin, the two of you are only slightly illuminated by the moonlight that pours in through the window. The one other light source is the ruby red glow of Kakashi’s sharingan. It feels like it’s piercing through you as you watch the tomoe swirl. You realize that he’s recording this moment, this love, for himself.
Maybe he’s loved you for longer than you thought. 
That love is evident in the way he stares at you like he’s obsessed, evident in the way he touches your body like it’s a masterpiece, evident in the way he fucks up into your body like he’s been waiting forever for this, evident in the way he whispers sweet nothings to you like you’re something to be cherished instead of just a teammate or even just a friend. 
Kakashi wraps his arm around you and holds you close so he can fuck you hard. It’s been a bit since you’ve done anything with anyone- Anbu is a cold, hardening organization and most of the time, at the end of the day, you just want to collapse onto your bed and cry yourself to sleep. On the occasions that you’ve dated or slept around, however, it’s been with civilians. It’s always been that way, just because it’s easier to not see them after everything inevitably falls apart. So, you’re not used to being flush against chiseled muscles covered in scar-mapped skin, nor are you used to being fucked with the strength and energy of a shinobi such as Kakashi.
Most importantly, though, you’re not used to someone who loves you fucking you. Pollen aside, this is more like making love than fucking with how Kakashi rushes to press your lips together and kiss you until you feel like you’re drowning on it. He pulls back, just briefly, to nip at your neck with his fangs and suck hickeys into the skin along your shoulder and the side of your neck, before pushing his lips back against yours. It’s so messy and desperate that a dribble of spit drips down the side of both of your mouths, but neither of you care enough to pull back and wipe it away. 
Kakashi shudders and sighs into you when the walls of your hot, wet cunt tighten around his cock. He takes that as encouragement to help you along and keeps pistoning up into you in rhythm with his thumb circling your clit until your ears are ringing and stars light up behind your eyes. Pleasure tears through you.
“I love you,” You moan against his lips as you finish, too relieved by the electric feeling of release that courses through your veins to be embarrassed.
Meanwhile, Kakashi seems to revel in it; your vulnerability, your presence, your body, your overstimulation.
“Sorry, what was that?” Kakashi teases. “I couldn’t quite hear you over all the noise you’re making.”
“I said I love you,” You murmur and rest your forehead against Kakashi’s while holding his face in your hands. “I really do mean that.”
You slump into Kakashi, weakly continuing to grind down onto him so he can finish, too. He moves his hand away from your clit to let you recover to some extent, but keeps thrusting up into you. You reach up to wipe the drool on the corners of your lip that comes from how Kakashi is making your mouth water. You’re overstimulated and you’re not sure if Kakashi’s hardness lingering inside of you is painful or pleasant or both.
“I love you, too,” Kakashi breathes out. “You look like you’re doing better, but I’m not quite done yet. Do you need me to move us?”
“Y-Yeah, I think so,” You nod. Your orgasm knocked the wind out of you and your legs and arms are shaking like crazy with the strain of riding Kakashi’s large cock while strung out on this pollen. You slow to a stop with Kakashi still throbbing inside of you, in need of release. You don’t know if it’s been five minutes or five hours. “Please, take over.”
“On your knees,”Kakashi slides out of you with a slick noise and grabs you by the hips to flip you around. He bends you over and pushes you onto your arms and knees before pushing his length back into you. You cry out at the sudden intrusion and blush at the slow trickle of your wet arousal dripping down your inner thighs. “There you go, you’re taking it so good… Fuck, I’m close…!”
“Then cum so we can leave already,” You grunt. Your head is spinning so fast that you’re barely able to get the words out. At first, you were at least able to muster the strength to stay on your hands and knees. Now, with Kakashi’s hips slamming against your ass at an increasing pace, you can’t keep it up. You drop to your forearms. The pleasure and pain is all so overwhelming with the pollen coursing through your body that your arms give out and have you stuck with your face buried in the bedsheets and your ass held up in the air by Kakashi’s rough grip on your waist. “Seriously, I’m about to cum again, so hurry up and finish before I pass out or something…!”
“Don’t act like you don’t want it, (y/n),” Kakashi growls and reaches up with one hand to thread grab you by the hair and twist your head just enough to make you look back at him. “If I weren’t so desperate for you, I’d make you beg for it.”
You let out a loud, breathy whine, but you don’t dare to argue with him- lest he actually make you beg. That’ll have to wait for next time.
Hopefully, there is a next time.
Kakashi’s thrusts finally start to become more rough and haphazard, signaling to you that he’s getting close. You muster your last bit of energy to throw your hips back against his. Pathetic little cries leave your throat and echo through the night air of the dark, lonely cabin as Kakashi’s fingers and thumb dig into your hips so hard that you’re sure you’re going to have a hand-shaped bruise come morning. 
Kakashi suddenly lets out a loud groan and stills with his cock buried in you as deep as possible. That last thrust mixed with him coating the walls of your cunt with his cum drags you over the edge once more. He pulls his hand from your hair and lets go of your hip so he can put his hands on the bed on either side of you and bend forward to rest his cheek against the middle of your back. 
“Kakashi…” You start, but you’re unsure of what you want to say.
After that- after everything- what could you say?
“(y/n)...” Kakashi whispers and presses a kiss into the skin of your back before pulling out and laying down on the bed.
You flip over as well, lying on your back, just as Kakashi does. The two of you catch your breaths while staring at the ceiling. You turn to your side to face your lover (?), who you rush to touch once more.
“Do you feel any better?” You ask while tracing a finger up and down Kakashi’s bare, sweaty chest.
“Yeah, I think the effects are wearing off. Sorry if I was a little rough with you, I was just… Under the influence of the pollen. Not that it’s any excuse. I’m a little embarrassed now, thinking about the things I said,” Kakashi takes a deep breath, exhales, and turns to check on you. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. We should be good now, I think.”
Weirdly enough, you can’t bring yourself to snap at him like you would’ve just hours ago. You try to stand from the bed so you can get dressed, only to stumble from the strain that was put on your body. Kakashi rushes to catch you by the arm and pull you back down to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Want some help?” He offers, moving to sit next to you on the bed and putting a hand on your shoulder. 
“Um, sure…”
Slowly, Kakashi cleans the two of you up, helps dress you in clean and comfortable clothes from your bag, fixes your hair, puts your forehead protector on over your head, and gets himself dressed and ready to go. He stands and puts both of your bags over one shoulder to carry them. You remain sitting on the bed, simply watching his every move.
“You’re quiet,” Kakashi points out.
“Not much to say after all that,” You mutter. “Except… I do love you back, if you really meant what you said. If it was just the pollen talking, then you can pretend I’m joking and we can go back to hating each other, and-”
“I meant it. I really do love you,” Kakashi interjects. Then, he steps forward and tenderly pushes a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. “I wanted to talk about this more, but we should go dispose of those bodies back at enemy grounds and make sure that there’s not any more of them. The pollen that was released back there should’ve worn off by now.”
“Fuck, I forgot about that entirely…” You sigh and scratch the back of your neck. “Do we have to include what just happened to us on the mission report?”
“I think I’d literally rather die than tell anyone back in Konoha that we fucked because of sex pollen,” Kakashi laughs, shaking his head. “Now, let’s get going before the Hokage starts getting suspicious about why it’s taken us so long…”
With that, the two of you leave the cabin, your head on Kakashi’s shoulder and your hand in Kakashi’s hand.
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ashleebooksblog · 2 days
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So I woke up four hours ago and couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to read some Bridgerton fanfictions because, why the hell not? And I stumbled upon this fanfiction, and I LOVE IT SO MUCH 🥺 The author captured the essence of the characters perfectly! Like, from the short clips and trailers that have been released, they turned them into stories! Daphne and Simon aren't in the story and that's because the actors aren't in the third season, and I love how the author stayed true to that and didn't try to write them in the story. They are mentioned, though. I love Daphne and Simon, but I love that part about the story even more because it feels like I am actually watching the third season. I was so disappointed when the last chapter ended on a cliffhanger, but the book was updated yesterday, so I just have to wait for the next update. I won't spoil too much in case any Polin lovers want to read this wonderful story ❤️
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“Fail to unders-” Colin shook his head and took a step closer to her. “I’m sure you are aware that it is a gentleman’s duty to marry a lady should he bring dishonour upon her.”
“Yes, but you’re not a gentleman, you’re Colin,” she interrupted him, her blue eyes boring into his, “You don’t count.”
Taken aback by the explanation, he could only stare at her in disbelief. Those words were familiar to him, yet they made him feel strange.
"Just look at our surroundings," Penelope gestured to the empty room. “We are without a chaperone, as we have been on multiple occasions. Suppose someone were to enter through those doors at this very moment, we would be under an obligation to marry, regardless of whether or not we kissed. So, what difference does it make?”
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The year is 1815, and Colin Bridgerton devises the brilliant strategy to aid Penelope Featherington in attracting eligible suitors.
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