#ITS HIS TIME TO SHINE YO

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this is for a friend that celebrated a birthday this week. I hope it was a good one! 🎉

when it's mc's birthday | the demon brothers

2.6k words | nsfw | gn!reader | fluff and non-explicit smut

cw: my fav bias is showing again. mostly soft!demons. car sex; levi's tail gets its own warning; bathing together and bath tub sex; dream magic and implied dream sex.

Lucifer plans your birthday with the utmost care. He booked a reservation at your favourite restaurant so that he can treat you to an intimate dinner. He remembered the various items you've pointed out to him in the past while browsing through the Devildom's shopping district. He went back and bought every single one of them, and they're already wrapped and tucked away in the back of his closet for later.

After he walks you home from the restaurant, there's a bottle of Demonus on ice waiting in his room. You share a toast while he watches you open your gifts. You kiss his cheek, eyes shimmery and warm with so much affection, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you properly. A soft, booze-sweetened kiss leads to another kiss, and another, and another after that. He strips your clothes off slowly, like he's unwrapping a gift of his own. He memorizes the sight of your body stretched languidly against his dark sheets. He almost feels selfish for a moment because he wants you so desperately, but the lust simmering in your gaze makes his heart race. He knows how much you want him too, and he's powerless to deny you.

The first time he makes love to you, it's heat and frenzied passion, the build-up of coy anticipation that finally boiled over. He reaches for you throughout the night between quiet conversation and short naps. Each time he pulls your body close to his again, his lips whisper tender confessions against the delicate shell of your ear while he worships your body with his over and over again.

Mammon isn't very subtle. In the days leading up to your birthday, he asks random questions about things you might like or activities you're interested in. He wants to get a head start and beat his brothers to the punch. His fake nonchalance isn't convincing, but it's still endearing how much he truly cares. Who else should celebrate your birthday if not him? He's your first, and he's not going to let anyone else spoil you more than he does.

He tries to budget his money and curb his spending so he can afford whatever it is you ask for. If that fails, he takes on some less-than-prestigious part-time gigs for extra cash. You could ask him for the world and he'd find a way to scrimp and save and scavenge and steal if he has to so he can give you whatever you want. He doesn’t realize (or doesn't believe) that his company is what makes your birthday really special.

He dresses up nice and polishes his car to a high-shine to match your own stunning smile and natural radiance. It doesn’t matter what you wear because when he tells you how gorgeous you are, he’s so sincere. You outshine all the riches and jewels he used to dream about—now he dreams of you instead.

He takes you on a date that's sweet and light-hearted. He holds your hand and stares at you across the table with a dopey grin on his face when he thinks you're not looking. Once you're alone in his car, that boyish giddiness fades into something greedy and confident. You meet him halfway when he leans over to give you a kiss. When kissing isn't enough for either of you, you push the seat back so he can climb over and settle between your legs. He takes you apart in the cramped front seat of his car until your voice is hoarse and you push him away from sensitivity. The car smells musky with sweat and cum and he doesn't care that you made a bit of a mess on the seat. He palms himself on the drive home, and by the time you get to his room, he's eager to do it all over again in the comfort of his bed.

Levi isn't sure what to do for your birthday, but you offer to plan a little outing for the two of you. All he has to do is keep you company, right? He braces himself with a mantra he repeats over and over in his head: do it for them, do it for them, do it and LIKE IT because you love them. It ends up being a lot more fun than he expects: a lunch date at one of the cafes you both like followed by a movie you’ve been excited to see. You don’t make fun of his sweaty palm when you hold hands in line to buy movie tickets and overpriced snacks at the concession bar. There's a cute plushie on display where they sell collectible merch. He buys that for you too and shoves it into your arms before you can protest.

He relaxes when you take your seats and the theatre lighting dims as the movie starts. You lean against his shoulder and he's glad you can't see how pink his cheeks are. Partway through the film, he decides he likes the movie, but not as much as he enjoys your warm fingers laced with his.

He jolts suddenly when you pull your hand away and slide your fingers onto his denim-clad thigh instead. Your fingers squeeze with the tiniest bit of pressure and he nearly gasps at the unexpected wave of lust that washes over him. He glances at you in confusion—you're still focused on the screen, but he can see the little smile curling the edge of your mouth. He squirms a little and pretends not to notice your fingers drawing lazy circle-eights across his jeans, inching higher up his leg when he doesn’t stop you. And you're right, he's not going to stop you. You run a fingertip over the growing bulge hardening against the zipper of his jeans, just as you feel his tail slide onto your lap and tease the sensitive skin between your legs.

Satan decides to take a different approach when he sees how overwhelmed you are by his brothers' plans for your birthday. Sometimes simple is best and what could be more relaxing or romantic than your favourite home-cooked meal? He fusses in the kitchen until everything is cooked exactly to your liking, and the dish he serves you looks as good as it smells. His room is tidied enough so that a small table fits—he doesn’t want the others bothering you if he serves you in the dining room. There are dozens of candles that cast you both in an ethereal glow while you eat together. His room might not offer the rich ambience of Ristorante Six or the electric atmosphere of The Fall, but nothing outshines the romance he creates here, just for you.

Once dinner is finished and he tidies up the mess, he pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a slow dance. It's more like swaying back and forth together as a classical record plays quietly in the background. Candlelight flickers playfully along the walls of his room, and your face is painted by a mirage of shadow and flame. He eagerly traces those shapes on your skin with his tongue after he lays you on his bed, and by the time you're shaking and falling apart in his arms, you'll know how much he loves you.

Your birthday is another chance for Asmo to spoil you. Throughout the afternoon, he leads you to each of his favourite boutiques in the Devildom's shopping district. He holds up dozens of clothes against your body and admires how the colours bring out your eyes or compliment your complexion or how luxurious the fabrics are. He pretends that he didn't pick all these out to show you (and buy them for you) in advance.

When he finally takes you to Majolish, his greatest gift is revealing that he personally designed this outfit specially for you. It fits flawlessly and even you think you look amazing. It’s obvious that he poured his love and passion into creating this for you when no one else ever has before. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his smile radiates warmth when he looks at you. His eyes burn with all the ravenous love he feels for you. He loses control of himself and kisses you, pressing you against the changing room wall and sliding his thigh between yours. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t have the time or space to touch you properly here. When he pulls his leg out from between yours, he misses the searing heat of your body against his. Perhaps it’s for the best that he take you home first—he would hate to get stains on your new outfit so soon.

(He originally planned on taking you to The Fall but he changed his mind. He’s not in the mood to share you with anyone else tonight.)

When he takes you home, he leads you straight to his private bathroom and urges you to get undressed while he gets everything ready. He draws a warm bath and the steamy air clings to you both like a second skin. You feel self-conscious about being naked even though he stands before you, waist-deep in the bathwater and just as naked as you are. He takes your hand and pulls you gently into the water with him. He supports your weight when you lean against his chest and his hands start to wander over your body. His fingers leave a soapy trail up and down your spine. He cradles your neck and leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss because he can't possibly wait anymore.

The kiss reignites both your desperate desires to touch and be touched. He walks you back towards the edge of the tub. When your back touches the cool marble stone, he reaches behind your thighs and lifts you onto the edge; he swallows your half-hearted protest with his lips moving greedily against yours. His mouth moves away from yours, ghosting along the curve of your jaw and down your neck while his fingers gently pry your legs apart. He bends his head low once you’re spread open for him, hot and trembling and all his. His eyes glow bright when you tangle your fingers in his hair, and it’s the last thing you see before he dips his head between your legs.

It's not surprising that Beel plans to take you out for dinner on your birthday. It's a tricky proposition because it's easy for him to lose control of his hunger when he goes out to eat. He doesn't want his sin to ruin your birthday dinner, so he eats a meal's worth of food beforehand. Having a partially-full stomach means he's not going to be completely distracted by hunger—he wants to focus on you.

He likes taking you to nice restaurants and your birthday is no exception. You put on a new outfit he’s never seen you wear before, but it looks so good on you that he's drooling from the corner of his mouth before you even leave the house. The restaurant is cozy and everything on the menu sounds delicious. Your nose bunches up adorably when you can't decide what to order, and Beel suggests ordering one of everything. He laughs deep in his belly when you glance at him skeptically over the brim of your menu. His eyes are bright with mischief even though you know he's dead-serious. He simply grins at you from across the table and reminds you that he won't let the food wouldn’t go to waste.

It doesn't take long for your food to arrive. Beel enjoys watching you eat while you make little sounds of contentment between bites. He offers you food from his own plate to try. When your plate is empty, he worries you might still be hungry; he's only satisfied when you promise that you're close to bursting and completely full. He leads you out of the restaurant by the hand, and his other hand carries a bag full of leftovers to share with you tomorrow.

When he walks you home, he doesn't want to seem needy or presumptuous even though he's reluctant to end the night so soon. He pauses outside your door and kisses you softly, whispering happy birthday against your lips that still taste sweet from your dessert earlier. He can’t resist swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth for one more taste, and the kiss deepens when you part your lips for him. You only break the kiss just long enough to open your door and pull him inside your room before slamming the door shut again. Your hands tug impatiently at his waist, and he shivers at the metallic clink of his belt buckle coming undone. He can sense hunger rising inside you again, and when he pushes you gently onto the mattress and covers your body with his own, he realizes your appetite is as insatiable as his own.

Belphie doesn't mind if the others want to take the initiative and plan your birthday party. He prefers it that way, actually. When his brothers ask for his input, he recommends something casual at the house, nothing too fancy. He wants you to be happy and relaxed and spoiled where you can be comfortable.

He sneaks into town to buy you a gift before the party, of course—something you mentioned to him in passing once that was too expensive for you to justify buying at the time. He and Beel wrap the presents they bought you in their room. Belphie's present looks insignificant compared to the large pile of gifts stacked near your birthday cake. He's not worried, especially when your eyes light up when you open it. You're just as appreciative of his small gift as you are of the others you receive. He knows you so well.

(You keep the contents of his card to yourself: a reminder that he has something special to give you later.)

Sometimes when he takes you to the attic for bed, he falls back against the mattress and waits impatiently for you to crawl on top of him. There's no hint of his lazy smugness tonight though. His hands are gentle but efficient when he strips your clothes away first before taking off his own. He follows you down onto the bed and smothers your body with his. The soft mattress cushions you when he grinds against you, and it squeaks from the force of his thrusts when he rocks inside you too. Your skin is littered with the little marks he sucks and nibbles into your skin. He cleans you with a warm, damp cloth after because your thighs and belly are covered in a sticky mess of you and him. He takes care of you with so much tenderness. You’re already snoring lightly by the time he's finished, and he cuddles against you with a yawn.

Shortly after you fall asleep, you dream of him. It’s a shared illusion between you conjured with the sleepy brand of magic he commands. You writhe against him in your sleep as the embers of lust continue to burn deep inside you. When the dream ends, you both wake up and instinctively reach for each other as the remnants of the dream fades away. He kisses you breathless despite your stale morning breath. You whimper against his mouth and he rolls over until you're underneath him again. After indulging in a night of dreamy, lustful sins, you're both still desperately eager for more.

read more: obey me masterlist

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[paperultra]

mise en rose.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 3,806 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use

The tune that your father used to whistle now leaves your lips the same way it left his.

Notes skip offkey across the water as your boat rocks gently, waves lapping up against the wooden sides. The moon shines brightly overhead. You shift in place and wait for a tug on your fishing line, the basket at your feet waiting patiently for its first meal.

Archy will be happy if you actually catch something for once. There’s not a lot of fish around here, and you’re not exactly sure why; something about the aquatic plants in the area, or if you were to believe the old man in the village square, a curse that swallows anything with fins that swims too close. The last time you caught something was months ago, and it was tiny and more bone than flesh.

You don’t really care. It’s enough to just sit out here and feel the waves.

Cheeks puffing up with air for another round of music, you let your gaze drift out towards the ocean and abruptly freeze.

There’s something floating in the distance.

A piece of debris. Wood from a hull, a scrap of sail perhaps?

The thought that it may be the remnant of a ship destroyed at sea is enough for you to reel in your line and start rowing towards it, anticipation bubbling up and drowning out any thoughts of a midnight snack.

You get close enough and your anticipation gives way to shock.

“Oh, shit.”

The guy clinging to the chunk of wood stirs and lifts his head, and you almost hit him upside the head with your oar.

“Oh, shit. You’re alive.”

—

“You say you’re going out fishing and you come back with a half-dead man with three swords?” Archy looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, but this time, you don’t blame him. This is certainly uncharted territory and your older brother is hopeless without a map. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What was I supposed to do, leave him to die?”

“I dunno! Yeah!” he gestures to the waterlogged man lying halfway on the living room couch, one arm and leg hanging off the side. “Look at him. He’s probably a pirate!”

“Damn, you think?” Crouching down, you drag your eyes across Swordsman’s ragged clothing and grin. You might’ve just rescued someone with a bounty on his head. “That’d be so cool.”

“That would not be cool.”

You shrug. “Well, I brought him in already, so you might as well help me unless you want a dead body in our living room.”

“You little –” Taking a deep breath, Archy pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, loud groan, and you know that you’ve won once more. “Fine. But as soon as he’s even a little bit better, we’re calling the Marines.”

“Okay,” you agree amicably. “So, what do we do first?”

“We have to undress him and warm him up.”

“Got it.” Your eager fingers go straight for the swords.

The man comes to life without warning. Seizing your wrist, he cracks one eye open and speaks in a low and rasping voice.

“Don’t. Touch. My swords.”

“Uh,” you say.

“We got to get everything off, mate,” Archy grumbles, and your guest turns his glare onto your brother. “I know how to clean swords and scabbards. I’ll dry them off and put them under the couch afterward.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

With a grunt, Swordsman pushes you away and attempts to sit up. He struggles for a full minute, jaw clenched and muscles trembling; his arms, strong and sturdy as they are, look like they’ll buckle at any moment.

Your eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling when he actually manages to prop himself up.

“Well, that’s impressive,” you mutter, making eye contact with Archy. He rolls his eyes. “Can you remove your clothes and wrap yourself up too?”

It takes a few moments before Swordsman has enough breath to respond. “I’m fine,” he says once he can.

“You’re really not,” Archy replies.

“You’re probably really dehydrated,” you say. “How long were you out there?”

The man stares at you, opens his mouth, pauses.

“Three days. Maybe.”

You gape. “You spent three days floating in the East Blue and you’re not dead?” You look at his neck for gills. “Are you a fishman or something?”

“No.”

“Really? I mean, I never met any fishmen before, so …”

His eye twitches. “I’m not a fishman.”

“Well, okay, if you say so.”

What a weird guy. Then again, you’ve heard that all sorts of characters traverse the Blue Sea. Devil fruit users, talking animals, clowns. A person who can survive the ocean for a couple days on a piece of wood is hardly out of the question.

“You’re dehydrated, in any case,” you conclude. “I’ll get you some water.”

—

After gruffly accepting a glass of water and putting on some dry clothes, Swordsman proceeds to “sleep it off” for the next twenty-four hours. When he finally wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night and you’ve just started rereading your favorite book.

“Oh, he’s awake,” you say when he stirs, swinging your feet off the coffee table and leaning forward in your chair to observe.

He grimaces under the dim light of your lamp, lifting an arm to press it over his eyes. “How long was I out,” he grouses.

“’Bout a day.”

“Shit.” He wriggles around in the fuzzy blanket you’ve wrapped around him. Once he’s loosened its hold enough, he sits up slowly and looks around, expression equal parts drowsy and wary. “Where –”

“Archy took your swords and cleaned them. They’re under the couch.”

“I told you not to touch them.”

“I didn’t. My brother did.”

Casting you the most unamused glare, Swordsman bends over to look underneath the couch. He pulls his swords out and places them in his lap, inspecting the white one first with a care that makes you rest your chin in your hand, curious and charmed. His brow furrows and you know that he finds your brother’s work to be satisfactory when he moves on to inspect the other two.

“Our uncle was a bladesmith in Loguetown. He taught Archy a thing or two before he passed.”

“You’re bladesmiths?”

“Coopers. Uncle was the rebel, I guess.” You close your book and stand up. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge. I’ll heat up the broth for you.”

This time, the man does not refuse your help and only nods. As you head to the kitchen and start to reheat the soup, you glance over and catch him sipping from the glass of water you’d topped off while he was asleep. Somehow, even that small action intrigues you. You smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Ladling the steaming broth into a small bowl, you stick a spoon in and walk back to where Swordsman is, sitting beside him. “Here you go. Don’t drink it too fast, and all that.”

He takes the soup, blows on a spoonful, tastes it. His eyes close, and something funny happens in your stomach when he opens them again to look at you.

“’S good.”

“Really?” He nods and puts the bowl to his lips to drink directly from it. “Thanks.”

You let him finish the miso broth in silence. It gives you time to stare at him some more; even with the horrible sunburn and petroleum jelly smeared everywhere, he’s a very handsome man, that much you can tell, with broad shoulders and a pretty face and hair as green as forest moss. The three earrings on his left ear gleam gold and sway with every movement he makes.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna ask me questions?”

“Hm? Oh!” Shaking your head in slight bewilderment, you smile. “Yeah, I guess it would be good to ask some questions … so, what’s your name, anyway?”

“Roronoa Zoro.”

You tilt your head with a frown. “Roronoa Zoro.” You taste the name in your mouth. “That sounds really familiar. Are you a pirate?”

“No. I hunt them.”

“You hunt them?”

“That’s what I said.”

You look at his swords again. His earrings. Three and three.

Shooting up from the couch, you dash to Archy’s room and slam the door open.

“Archimead! Wake up!” You grab your brother’s shoulders and rattle him.

“Shit – what?!” he gargles, pushing your face away with one meaty hand and sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s Roronoa Zoro!”

“What?”

“The guy in our living room,” you shriek at him, practically shaking, “is the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. I fished Roronoa Zoro out of the fucking ocean.”

Archy stops rubbing his eye. “What.”

Soon enough, Zoro faces both you and your brother in the living room once more.

“You’re Roronoa Zoro? For real?” Archy asks him.

Zoro blinks up him. “Yeah.”

“Can you prove it?”

“‘Can you prove it’ – Archy, look at him. He’s got three earrings in his left ear and three fucking swords.”

“He could be some sort of copycat. We have no idea what Roronoa Zoro actually looks like.”

“You’re such a pessimist. Nobody would lug around three swords if they couldn’t use all of them at once.” You turn your attention back onto Zoro. “How the hell did you get stranded out there?”

He looks between the two of you, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms. “I was headed to Mirror Ball Island, but the boat I was on got caught in a whirlpool,” he says, displeased. “Then I got separated from the rest of the crew. Don’t know if they survived or not.”

“Mirror Ball Island?” you repeat. “That’s a three-day journey from here, at least.”

“Where’s here?”

“Dokusha Village.” You open one of the books on the table and point to a tiny strip of coast you’d labeled on the edge of the East Blue map. “Right there. You could buy a boat and sail west, straight to Mirror Ball Island.”

“I don’t have any beri on me right now,” Zoro says.

“Oh, yeah. Of course you don’t.” Archy puts his hands on his hips. “Well, the merchant ship is coming by in two weeks. If you’re all good by then, you can hitch a ride.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”

You snort, closing the book and reclining back. “The rate you’re going, I don’t doubt it. Does that mean you want to leave earlier? You’ll still need a boat and supplies. Food, water, towels, sleeping gear. That all costs money. I mean, we could lend you some, but still.”

“I’ll work for it,” Zoro replies. “I don’t take and give nothing in return.”

Both you and Archy give a hum of approval.

—

True to his word, Roronoa Zoro is up and off the couch by the fourth day.

He doesn’t have a clue as to how to make barrels or buckets, which is expected, so he ends up helping with the grunt work of carrying staves into the workshop and stacking finished barrels. Other than that, there’s not much for him to do.

“Sorry if it’s boring,” you apologize during lunch, speaking through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re kind of just hired muscle.”

Zoro shrugs, chewing on his own sandwich. Two girls walking by – Phoebe and Iris, the blacksmith’s daughters – spot him on the bench and giggle, hurrying past with glances over their shoulders. He appears not to care. “It’s fine.”

“I think you’re even stronger than my brother. Is it because of your training as a swordsman?”

“Probably,” he says.

“When did you start?”

“When I was eight.”

You nod sagely. “Not surprised. I’ve been helping around the workshop since I was a kid, and I only just finished my apprenticeship a few weeks ago. It’s good to start young.”

It seems that Zoro agrees by the way he grunts, stuffing the last piece of crust into his mouth.

When he’s done, you muster the courage to ask, “What’s it like, being a bounty hunter?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow at you. Then he gazes back out at the street. “It’s fine,” he responds. “Makes good money.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Yeah, but, like, is it fun? Do you spend a lot of time at sea? See a lot of different places? Stuff like that.”

“I don’t do it for fun. My only goal is to become the world’s greatest swordsman.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head. “It’s a shitton of traveling, both on ships and on land. I’ve been all over the East Blue.”

“Wow.” The word comes out as a sigh. You crunch longingly on a carrot stick. “That sounds amazing. It’s my dream to travel all over the world on a ship.”

“How come you’re here, then?”

You wince, hushing him hastily. Glancing behind you, you clear your throat and lean in to speak softly. “Archy hates the ocean. He worked on a merchant ship for a few months when he was eighteen and got super sick.” Upon reading Zoro’s blank expression, you clarify, “I can’t just leave him. I’m the only family he’s got now, and his younger sibling to boot. So Dokusha Village it is.”

“You’re staying because of your brother.”

“Yeah. I love him, so it’s fine.” There’s a familiar ache in your chest, but you push it down and elbow Zoro’s ribs in jest. (He doesn’t even move a muscle. Geez.) “Makes okay money. I got a bunch of adventure books to live through, anyway.”

It’s a little hard to meet your lunch companion’s eyes after that. You eat the rest of your carrots in silence, pretending to be occupied with finishing them. Zoro doesn’t utter another word.

But as the two of you get back to work, he seems a little warmer, a little less stiff. You make a silly joke and Zoro huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh while Archy threatens to stick you in a rum barrel and roll you down a hill.

Perhaps you’ve made another friend.

—

“What are you making?”

You blow off the wood dust, closing one eye to cut a fin just right. “Shark. See?”

The bonfire you’d made crackles just a few feet away as you place the half-finished carving into Zoro’s palm. He picks it up with his other hand and twists it around, touching with intention, and you almost feel self-conscious with the way he’s examining it.

“Nice,” he finally says, and the praise makes you giddy. He hands the shark back to you.

“Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”

Zoro rests his elbows on the rock behind him and takes another swig of sake. You resume carving the shark’s fins, bare feet buried in the cool sand.

Archy’s on a date for once, so he left the two of you to your own devices for the night with a distracted wave goodbye and a warning that he’ll be back late. You took that as a chance to break into the alcohol after supper and drag Zoro down to the beach. The swordsman was willing to come along, though you suspect it was mostly for the sake.

“Ain’t that your third bottle?”

“I can hold my liquor.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No need to brag.”

He wipes his mouth, dark brown eyes black in the firelight. They glint like steel when he looks over at you, but he doesn’t say anything – not that you’re surprised; sometimes Zoro just looks at whatever he wants without any reason. He’s not particularly complicated in that sense.

(You like that. Too many things in life are complicated.)

“Hey, Zoro.”

“Hm.”

Your lips purse. “Do you think my brother will get married one day?”

“How am I supposed to know?” His tone is flat.

“Well, I dunno! It’s just a question.” You frown, slowing in your work. “It’s just that after our parents died, he’s been too busy looking after me and the shop to court someone. He’s turning thirty next year and most people his age have settled down already. I feel kind of bad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Zoro says. “Wouldn’t he have more time now, anyway, since you can take care of yourself?”

“I think he’s been out for so long he doesn’t know how to date anymore.”

Zoro downs the rest of his sake. You know that there’s no advice he can give you regarding Archy’s marriage prospects, which doesn’t surprise you either. You suppose you just need someone to listen. It’s not like you can talk to Archy about it.

“Hell,” you remember, “I’m expected to be married by now, too. I’ve never even been on a date.”

“Really?”

“Nope. Why, are you surprised?”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Zoro yawns and closes his eyes. “You just seem like the type.”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk a lot,” he says.

You burst out laughing. “Yeah, I do. Would that make me a good date?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I’m guessing you’ve never been on one, either?”

Zoro shrugs. He doesn’t look too torn up about it. “Waste of time,” he mutters.

Your grin widens. “Figured you’d say that,” you drawl, digging your blade into the shark’s mouth. “Dating doesn’t really help you become the world’s greatest swordsman, does it?”

“Nope.”

“I still think it might be fun, though. If you’re with the right person.” With that, you brush away the last curl of wood from your carving. After admiring it for a few seconds, you offer the shark to Zoro, bumping the nose softly against his cheek. He opens his eyes and turns his head to squint at it. “Here you go. All yours.”

His brow furrows as he takes it.

“It’s a going away gift. Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” you say. Folding your knife and putting it down beside you, you grab your bottle of sake and gulp down half of what remains. “Don’t forget it.”

One of the logs in the bonfire crumbles, falling into the coals. Orange sparks fly up into the smoke and disappear just as quickly. You poke at the fire with a stick, trying not to think about how sad you’re going to be tomorrow morning.

“I won’t forget,” Zoro says.

“I know.”

—

It’s almost dawn, and the family boat is packed up and ready to set sail.

“Got everything?” Archy asks, lowering into a squat to scan over all the supplies.

“Yeah.” The swordsman drags a hand through his hair. “Thanks again for the boat.”

“It’s nothing.” Your brother elbows your arm, and you sway. “Oi. He said thank you.”

“I know,” you mumble. For the first time this morning, you spare Zoro a glance and smile at him, but it’s shaky and fake and you really hate how your voice wobbles when you say, “You don’t have to thank us. Just have a safe – have a safe –” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your feet, eyes burning. “Have a safe trip,” you finish quietly.

You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as your vision goes blurry. Shit. This is so embarrassing.

The fact of the matter is that Roronoa Zoro has been in Dokusha Village for only a week, and you’re already missing him like he’s been in your life for years. You’re going to watch him get into your family’s fishing boat and sail away, the wind at his back, the East Blue before him, and you will remain on the dock with your big brother beside you and your dream in your head.

You’re being selfish, but it’s not … it’s not fair.

Archy puts his hand on your shoulder and says your name.

You wipe your nose. “What?”

“… I’ve been thinking.” He sounds hesitant, taking in a deep breath and letting it go slowly, carefully. “You’ve always wanted to travel the world on a ship.”

It’s like the world tilts on its axis.

Rigidly, you look up at your brother, eyes wide.

“I’m not dumb, you know. You’ve only stayed here because of me,” Archy says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you and protect you. But you’ve been able to do that for yourself for a while, now. Right?”

“Archy.” You swallow. “What are you …?”

“I talked with Zoro last night. He’s willing to take you to Mirror Ball Island, if you want.” His smile is crooked, but it trembles at the corners as he continues. “You know how to sail, how to navigate. We’ll just have to add some extra stuff to the boat.”

You can barely breathe.

“There’s plenty of merchant ships there,” Zoro adds, leaning on his sword. “Your skills are valuable. Just be willing to pull your own weight, and they’ll take you on board. If not, I’ll tell them to.”

“You don’t have to –” Now you’re full-on bawling. You throw your arms around Archy, who wraps you in a bear hug, and then around Zoro, who stiffens. “Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“No problem,” Zoro mumbles, patting you on the back. When you let go to beam at him, he averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Just hurry up.”

Nodding, you dash back up to your house, Archy following close behind. You grab your bag, throw what you need into it, snatch your hat from your bedpost. Less than twenty minutes pass before you’re all ready to go.

“Got everything?” Archy asks once more at the dock. You nod and look at Zoro, who nods as well. “All right.”

You hug Archy for the last time. Tears spill over and down your cheeks. “Thank you for everything, big bro. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, kid.” His voice is rough and trembly, muffled against your head. “Come back to visit sometime, okay?”

“Okay.”

Getting into the boat with Zoro, you help him check the rigging and hoist the sail. Archy unties the vessel and pushes the two of you off. As you float away, he waves, and you wave back, staring as he gets smaller and smaller.

“I’m not turning back,” Zoro tells you as you eventually settle in your seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Is it?

You cast one last glance back at Dokusha Village, at the small point of your brother. Then you look out at the broad expanse of the ocean. And you feel many things – joy, sadness, apprehension – but above all that, you feel –

Free.

“Yes,” you say firmly. You push your hat down and smile at Zoro, and this time, it’s genuine. “It is.”

Zoro smiles back. And as the sun begins to warm your face, you whistle your father’s song and think about the journey to come.

#opla #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #opla zoro #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #once again i underestimated how long this would take. hoowee #opla zoro my grumpy old man :) #good thing reader is coming along otherwise he'd NEVER make it to mirror ball island rip

[borathae]

"Now that Jungkook can finally stay the night, you and he take advantage of it as many times as possible. Cuddles, snuggles and sweet kisses lull you to sleep. His hard cock filling up your pussy and his needy moans wake you again. "Don't tease please", he begs, knowing very well that begging is fruitless."

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Witch!Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Magic!AU, established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Camping Trip!AU, Smut

Warnings: Yoongi & Tae get mentioned, sex in a camper van, sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, he calls her Mistress, needy!Jungkook, masochist!Jungkook, consensual free use kink (free use in this story = you can do whatever you want to me, whenever you want), consensual somnophilia, he fucks her pussy while she sleeps, use of lube, Koo has sensitive nipples, nipple play, he's got a big vampire dick, gentle choking, needy begging, dirty talk, praise (good babyboy!googie nation rise), degradation (he gets called slut), dumbification (m.receiving), he cries cause it's so good & he's so needy, she uses her magic to control his orgasms, edging for him, multiple orgasms for both, creampies, unnatural amounts of cum ;), she grinds her pussy against his cock, thigh riding until she cums, a little bit of anal fingering for her, cock slapping, she rides him, he can’t stop hugging her and touching her and kissing her :(, he needs so much aftercare, please protect this bean, they are in love and very kinky

Wordcount: 7.4k

a/n: This is Sanguis!Kookie & follows this smut. I am literally going to combust on the spot. I fucking need him so much. Enjoy besties, this is unhinged 💗

The sun is shining into the camper van. The blinds are still drawn closed, which results in the light to enter the room in small golden streaks. The ocean sings its daily songs. Last night when Jungkook woke you with his lips wrapped around your nipple, it was silent as it slept. It is awake again, now filling the nice silence with the rushing of waves and the occasional call of a seagull. The chatter of people ebbs and flows as, outside, fellow campers pass your van on their way to the beach. Their conversations are unintelligible to you.

Jungkook is moaning above you. It is gentle and quiet and equals little whimpers more than anything else. 

You need a few seconds to conceptualise what is happening to you, but once you do, you feel charged in pleasure instantly. Jungkook is rocking himself into you, filling you up with his warm, hard cock. He actually made good on the promise he made last night and is now using your pussy to masturbate his sensitive dick. From how sensitive you feel yourself and by how raggedy he breathes, he must have been going at it for quite a while. The sheets under your butt are soaked and in the deepest pit of your stomach, you feel a constant warm pressure threatening to burst. 

You open your eyes, expecting to meet his gaze but being surprised by what you find. He has his eyes closed. His curly hair is sticking to his damp face, his brows are furrowed and his pouty lips are parted. The golden sunlight falsifies his skin tone, turning his naturally pale vampire skin a healthy human colour. He is glowing, not only as if sunlight kissed him, but also his cheeks are flushed. Pinker than the rest of his face. Cute. So immensely pretty.

You stay silent as you enjoy the view. You don’t want to soil this moment by making yourself known. Jungkook should continue to exist in the blissful embrace of thinking that you are still asleep.

He is propped up on his hands. They rest a little above your head and dimple the pillow. His muscles are tensed, the veins in his lower arms are swollen. You fight every urge inside of you not to feel him up, to trace his veins and touch his hardened muscles. Not yet. He needs to be blissfully unaware longer. He feels so good when he is, rocking into you slowly and deeply. Being deep is honestly rather easy with his impressive length. You really can’t get enough of how he feels, how he fills you up and how he never hurts because he fits you as if he was made for you.

His nipples call your attention next. He has the daintiest, little nipples. Darker in colour and incredibly pretty. They aren’t swollen right now, but they could be with just one touch. Truly, he is so pretty. And to think how sensitive they are. 

You knew what you were doing last night. You knew that sucking on them would get him needy. You don’t know why you did it because you were this close to falling asleep again, but you really wanted to do it. Maybe you enjoy scrambling the thoughts of your lovers. It feels so good to know that you can turn them from intelligent, well put together men to stuttering, begging messes within seconds if only you touch them right. They are all the same. Taehyung with his sensitive thighs, Yoongi with his sensitive neck and Jungkook with his sensitive nipples. It’s so easy to turn them into messes. 

Maybe that is why you did it last night. Because you love to drive them so mad in lust that they stop thinking rationally and instead act instinctively. The sex always feels especially good when they do.

You don’t touch his nipples even if you want to. Not yet. Jungkook shouldn’t be aware of you yet. 

You shift your head a little. Just a little in order not to call his attention. Jungkook doesn’t notice it, he is too lost in you.

You can’t see a lot from the position, but you try to look at his tummy next. Only glimpses of it meet your eyes. His hard-earned abs tense and relax with the smooth movements of his hips. On any other day, you would have reached down there and felt him up. Not yet.

Your eyes flit up again. He still isn’t looking, but scrunches his nose up. His head is tilted back the slightest bit, revealing his throat to your eyes. Glistening in a slight layer of sweat and skin vast of any sorts of marks. Not that marks stay on their bodies for long, but it’s still a tragedy that his throat looks so empty.

Not yet.

Jungkook moans and shudders above you. His cock fills you up deeper and forces you to almost make a sound. You widen your eyes, biting down the moan threatening to escape as your toes curl in bliss. Jungkook repeats the motion. The same feeling courses through your body as before. Hot and addicting. He does it again and by now, you realised that he picked up a new tempo. Deeper than before and needier. Judging by how hard he tries not to be loud, he is getting closer, making it harder and harder for you to stay silent as well. All you want to do is moan.

Perhaps you have to make yourself known. It’s too good to handle.

You lift your hands to his nipples and rub them.

“Holy fuck, ah”, Jungkook gasps and collapses to his elbows. His face falls against the crook of your neck, his cock covers your walls in spurts of his hot pleasure, “holy fuck.”

“Good morning”, you rasp, pinching and rolling his nipples between your fingers.

“You’re making me cum”, he whimpers. It’s been too long since he started. This was his last straw, “holy fuck, honey”, he moans and shakes.

“Oh?” you let out and giggle, hugging him against you as he empties his heavy balls inside you, “what a way to start the day. Does that feel nice, baby? Mhm?”

“Yeaah”, Jungkook keens, shaking in your arms. 

“That’s it baby. I’m sorry. I surprised you quite a bit, didn’t I? But that’s okay, baby. Enjoy yourself, just enjoy yourself my honey”, you talk him through it, helping him ride out the surprise high by rolling your hips up against him. Your heart is racing like crazy. This is the cutest, yet hottest thing he ever did.

It feels heavenly to you to be filled like that. His cum is so warm and his cock so hard. It feels nice to be filled with him. 

Jungkook comes down with a shudder of his limbs, dropping atop of you with a loud squeak. He shivers, squeaking out little noises. His cock is still rockhard, throbbing inside you as he recovers. You soothe him with back scratches and a slow scalp massage, enjoying the warm scent he radiates. 

“Good morning indeed, mhm?” you whisper. 

“I’m sorry”, he croaks, breathing heavily.

“For what?” 

“I didn’t mean to cum already. That was so embarrassing.”

“It wasn’t. You were perfect”, you say and giggle, “although I gotta admit, it’s a little funny to think that the second I wake up you have to nut.”

Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, “yeah uh”, he lifts his head, blushing like crazy, “fuck”, he laughs.

“You’re cute, Kookie”, you say, cupping his face. 

He closes his eyes, leaning into your embrace. He smiles prettily.

“I do gotta say though. You’re bold as fuck. You really just used my pussy to jerk off huh?”

“Mhm?”

“I woke up to you jerking off with my pussy as if you’re a dumb, needy animal. What kind of imagine does that make Kookie, hm?”

He opens eyes, pouting at you, “I needy one?” he asks cutely.

“Exactly. So needy.”

Jungkook widens his eyes cutely “I, I only did it because you told me last night that I can fuck your pussy.”

You smile, tracing his cupids bows, “mhhm, did I?”

“Y-yes.”

“Interesting. I can’t remember that I did”, you coo and pinch his cheeks. 

“Ah aha, don’t”, Jungkook giggles, bucking his hips into you in a needy reaction. It feels so good, but teasing him feels even better. You stop his hips, speaking in a soft yet demanding voice.

“Get off of me, Kook.”

“What?”

“Get off of me. Now.”

Jungkook follows your orders instantly. 

“I’m, I’m sorry”, he stutters, tearing up because he thinks that he messed up. That he did something you didn’t want to do. 

You sit up and take him by his shoulders to guide him. He falls against the headboard, looking at you with glassy eyes. 

“I’m so sorry”, he chokes out.

“Don’t apologise baby, you did nothing wrong”, you assure him, smoothing over his cheeks, “well”, you smirk darkly, “you did. You’re such a needy, little boy, aren’t you? Look at the mess you made”, you say, running your fingers through your creampied pussy, “so messy.”

Jungkook gulps, widening his eyes cutely. He finally understands what is happening. You aren’t mad at him, you are just being your perfect self. This is all an act. A part of the sex he started. You are so into this right now. He pouts, tears roll down his cheeks. 

“I didn’t think that you would take my offer and yet you did. You are such a needy slut, Kookie. Do you really only think with your cock, hm?”

Jungkook sobs and nods his head, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“I’m such a dumb slut”, he chokes out and sobs, “I’m sorry Mistress, all I do is think with my cock.”

“Of course you do. That’s all you do, you cute, pretty slut”, you say, sitting down on his lap right under his cock. You smear his cum everywhere, using it to grind your clit against his muscular thigh. The sensation makes your body burn up.

Jungkook opens his eyes and whimpers, grabbing your hips. 

“Please”, he begs, trying to tug you onto his cock. 

“No touching”, you say, taking his wrists to guide them behind his back. 

Like this, your faces are so close that with only one tilt of your head, you would kiss him. He is gazing at you, eyes racing between yours and sparkling like crazy.

“I want you to keep your hands behind your back. Can you do that for me or are you dumb enough to fail?” 

“I wanna try”, he whispers, “please?”

“You’re such a good boy, so good for me”, you praise, “clean.”

You press your cum slickened fingers against his lips. Jungkook opens up and takes you inside, sucking on your digits as his good boy eyes gaze up at you. 

“There we go. Are you yummy mhm? Do you like how you taste?” 

He nods his head, moaning needily and tensing his thighs.

“Kook”, you sigh, eyelids fluttering, “Koo, I’m…my pussy’s sensitive. Keep…yeah, keep doing that.”

He moans, sucks and tenses his thigh. It flinches and shakes under your pussy. You glide over his smooth skin, electricity shoots through your veins. 

“Fuck”, you sigh, dropping against Jungkook’s strong chest. Like this, you forget all about your fingers in his mouth which results in your hand slipping down and your fingers tugging his jaw down with them. 

Jungkook shakes his head free, resulting in your hand falling around his throat gently. 

Your forehead is resting against his shoulder, your back is bent so you are more comfortable and your pussy is dripping down his sculpted thighs. 

Although he promised to be your good boy, Jungkook puts his arms to the front. He needs to touch you. That’s all he wants to do. Touch you, hug you, feel you as you moan in his arms. He wanted to do those things for years and now that he finally can, he doesn’t want to stop doing them.

“Holy fuck, that’s good. Fuck, that’s so good”, you moan, scratching his scalp as you continue to twist and relax your fingers in his hair.

Jungkook cuddles closer, kissing your neck as best as possible.

“That’s so good, oh god Kook”, you shudder, circling your clit against him quickly, “holy fuck.”

“I’m here”, he whispers, slipping his right hand to your butt while his left arm still hugs you close. His fingers dip between your buttocks, picking up the remnants of his cum so he can spread it on your hole. 

“Baby”, you groan, tensing up for just one second before you shudder and moan shakily. Your hips speed up afterwards, your fingers squeeze around his throat, “don’t stop baby, please don’t stop.”

Jungkook moans, enjoying you with his eyes closed. This is paradise to him. He continues to move his pointer and middle finger against your hole, massaging it with just enough pressure that you feel it deep inside you. He doesn’t even have to slip in and yet you feel stuffed with him. 

“So good…”

Your clit is burning. That’s how it feels to hump his sculpted thigh. Hot. So incredibly hot. You can’t take much more. 

“I’m gonna cum like this”, you choke out, resorting to moaning afterwards. 

“Don’t hold back, please”, he begs, hugging you closer. He presses down on your hole and slips inside to his first knuckle.

“Ah”, you wail and orgasm instantly. If there is one thing that will always break you it’s when they introduce something new to the sex. Just like Jungkook with his nipples, all it took for you right now, was for Jungkook to breach your hole. 

You shake and tremble, covering his thigh in your orgasm as you feel in goddamn paradise. 

“Holy f-fuck, holy shit, Kook”, you moan, hugging him tightly.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop”, Jungkook begs, holding you through your high as his cock aches for your warmth again. 

You shake two more times and then drop. A little grumble of utter ruin leaves you, your fingers slip from his throat. 

Jungkook slips his fingers out and caresses your buttocks instead. Your pussy throbs on his thigh rhythmically. Like a heartbeat. He knows that these are the aftermaths of your intense high. You are panting like crazy too. 

“A good morning, huh?” he jokes.

“Yeah hah”, you laugh breathily, lifting your head, “fuck.”

Your face is glowing from sweat and the golden light, your eyes are sparkling. Jungkook feels short of breath at the view. This is you. This right here is you. The truest you and he can look at you without wanting to rip you apart. Holy fuck.

He cups your cheeks, running his thumbs over your skin. His tummy flutters when your first reaction to his touch is to lean into him and give him a droopy smile.

“You are so beautiful”, he says.

“You are beautiful too, Kookie.” 

“I want more”, he confesses and tries to tug you closer to his cock, “please don’t let this end yet.”

“I don’t want this to end either”, you say, chasing him. You lift yourself, pressing your warm pussy against his cock as you go in for a kiss.

Jungkook whimpers, closing his strong arms around your lower waist and pressing you against him that way. He has to crane his neck to reach you, but he doesn’t mind. There is nothing better than to look up at you, to lift his head for you. You deserve that. You are his beautiful goddess and all you deserve is to be gazed upon. To be kissed and held and cherished.

You move your hips slowly, grinding your clit against his cock without slipping in. Just warmth, pressure and connection. It’s enough to make Jungkook moan into the kiss. Slow and gently you kiss him, sucking on his tongue because he tastes so good and moans so sweetly. 

You are still incredibly sensitive from your first high. His cock feels like the sweetest torture against your clit. A torture you can’t get enough of and which has you chasing him with eager, needy movements.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, “okay, fuck. You gotta slow down”, he sounds out of breath, his thighs are shaking beneath you.

“Why?” you ask, rutting against him with your arms hooked behind his head and your fingers deep in his hair. 

“I’m gonna cum”, he mewls and moans, tilting his head back and parting his lips. He squeezes your waist, throbbing against your clit. 

“Already?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah?” you giggle, “that’s why you’re close?”

“Yeah”, his eyes tear up, he pulls you closer.

“You’re cute”, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair “so cute”, you whisper, circling your clit right on his frenulum. 

“Oh mhmgng”, he presses out, widening his eyes at you. 

“So cute baby, so cute and so dumb.”

You can watch how his thoughts leave his brain, how utter emptiness fills his mind and how he becomes nothing but yours. You have to giggle and caress his cheeks. You press your pussy closer, resulting in his cock digging into his tummy and for your clit to feel charged in pleasure. 

“So dumb and cute, my little slut”, you coo.

“Please slow”, he begs, spilling tears, “I’m gonna cum, please.”

“Mhm, what a shame”, you say, lifting yourself and dropping back onto his lap. You continue rutting against him, using his thigh instead of his cock. 

“Please”, Jungkook mewls, now whining about being edged. He tries to sit up and chase you, but you take him by his shoulders and position him back against the headboard. He lets it happen with a moan, dropping his head against the window right above it as he is unable to open his eyes. He is so dizzy. You made him your dumb, pretty slut and however hard he tries, he won’t be able to escape until you free him again.

“Comfy?” you ask him again.

“No”, he croaks.

“No?”

“Want your pussy.”

“My pussy, hah”, you chuckle, “didn’t you whine about being too close?”

“I lied.”

“Sure you did”, you chuckle, “you’re being a greedy slut right now, aren’t you?”

Jungkook whimpers, “yeah”, he squeaks, arching into your touch.

“Of course you are. Just fucking look at your cock”, you say, placing your hands on his tummy right next to his cock. The touch is so heavy, leaving him to gasp for air.

“Please”, he begs for your hands, but you ignore him.

“You’re so wet, look at you. All sticky and messy”, you rasp, running your thumbs through his dark pubes. They are soaked in his own cum and your wetness. They feel so soft against your skin, “did you use lube when you fucked me?”

“Yeah. I, I didn’t want you to hurt so, so I used lube.”

“You did, wow”, you click your tongue, “even if you knew that you needed to use lube you didn’t stop, mhm? Is your cock really all that controls you, huh?”

He throbs, leaking new slick. The pretty little pearl runs down along his swollen vein and gathers on the base.

“Of course it is. Look at how wet you get when I talk about it”, you tease and grab him by his base. You slap his cock.

Jungkook cries out and arches off the headboard. His thighs squirm under your pussy, rubbing right against your clit. The sensation feels like fucking paradise.

“So dumb, you’re so dumb”, you taunt, spanking his cock again.

Jungkook bucks his hips up, almost throwing you off his lap because of it. He wails so sweetly, gripping your thighs because all he wants to do is hold you. He expected anything but this. 

He fucked your pussy for quite a while before you woke. It started with him waking up to you being his little spoon and your naked butt pressing right against his bared cock. The mess of last night was still sticking to your bodies, enabling Jungkook to rub his cock against you without any kind of struggle. It wasn’t long until he was hard and just as needy as he was last night. Maybe he was even needier because your words of last night kept repeating in his head.

“I can’t wait to wake up to your cock stuffed in me tomorrow”, you told him last night and ever since then, it has haunted him.

So Jungkook began humping you, trying to get you to wake up, but you were slumbering too deeply. So he tried something else. He tried to suck your nipples again, burying three of his long fingers in your warm pussy and massaging your clit. All it did was make you wetter and sigh in your sleep. So he tried to get rid of his desperation by humping your thigh, but this only made it worse. He tried to grind his cock against your clit next, but that didn’t wake you and made him so horny that he felt like crying. Nothing helped and the ache between Jungkook’s legs became unbearable. So he grabbed some lube, rubbed it all over his fully grown cock and then filled your pussy with his length. You felt like heaven around him and Jungkook began rocking himself into you in the slowest movements he ever made. If he hadn’t, he probably would have lost himself within seconds. The slow movements were nice, Jungkook never felt as close to you as he did when he fucked you this morning. They were nice, but they also kept him on the constant border to climax. 

The one he had before didn’t help. It just made it worse. The ache for you is unbearable. Which meant his cock was this close to bursting right now and your spanks were the last sparks needed to ignite the flame.

“I’m cumming”, he chokes out, fucking the air aggressively.

“No”, you say, squeezing around his base. It tingles where you touch him. Jungkook knows you are preventing his cock from cumming with a little bit of help from your magic.

“No”, he keens, writhing painfully, “please don’t do this to me, please.” It hurts so much. He wants to cum, but he can’t. Oh god, it hurts so much.

“Why not? It’s the least I can do to you for being such a slut”, you taunt him. The pressure around his base stops, instead you press his cock against his tummy and connect your pussy with it. In smooth rolls of your hips, you grind against him, sending his body down a spiral of unbearable pleasure.

“Please slow, please slow, please slow”, he begs.

“I am slow”, you tell him, holding onto his shoulders as you grind against his heavy cock, “I’m barely even moving.”

“It’s too much”, Jungkook mewls and sobs, “I wanna cum.”

“Stop whining.”

“Don’t tease, please”, he begs, bucking his hips up, “oh fuck, that was too much”, he begins whining, pouting as he does. He writhes as he talks, “please don’t go so fast, please Mistress please.”

“Do I have to force you to stop being such a slut, mhm?” you spit and grab his chin, “look at me.”

Jungkook peels his eyes open. The sweetest tears roll down his face and soil your fingers. Your hips still move against him, grinding your swollen clit against his burning cockhead. You are dripping all over him, your pulse is racing in your pussy. Jungkook can feel everything and it makes him want to pass out from how good it feels.

“Do I actually have to use magic on you to get you to stop being so sensitive, huh?”

“Can you do t-that?”

“I can do unspeakable things to you if I wanted to, Kookie.”

“Oh god”, he mewls, presenting his throat to you, “please do whatever you want to me, I-I’m free use.”

“Mhm, so needy”, you taunt, “fine, if you’re asking for it like such a slut”, you say and lean down to kiss his forehead. Jungkook knows that the kiss was magic. Not only because it really comforted him, but also because he felt unbearable pressure building in his stomach once your lips touched his skin. 

He mewls and writhes, fighting the feeling with minimal effort. He wants to cum and yet can’t. The pressure in his tummy is too much and yet he can’t let go. 

“Please”, he begs, “please, oh god please.”

“There we go”, you say, lifting your head. You smooth over his forehead, caressing his cheeks afterwards, “how is that feeling, mhm?”

“A, a lot. There, there is so much pressure in my tummy and, and my legs feel so, so weak”, he stutters. 

“Yeah? That’s the magic, babyboy”, you explain, “is it too much?”

“I don’t know yet”, he says, spilling tears, “please don’t let go.”

“I won’t, baby. Now that I can use your pretty, little cock to get off, I won’t hold back”, you say, moving your hips against his cock. 

Jungkook can feel everything. The magic doesn’t reduce the pleasure you give him, it simply prevents his body from falling over the edge. Your wet pussy grinds right against his swollen cockhead and all he can do is take it and spill tears. 

“How’s that? Is the magic too much?”

“I don’t know, I don’t fucking know”, he sobs, “please don’t ask me that, I don’t know”, he wails, pressing his eyes closed. 

“I’m just asking to make sure you’re not pushing yourself too much. Yeah? You’re such a dumb little slut that sometimes you go too far, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes”, he moans, “it’s not too much. I can’t cum, I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything. You just gotta be a good boy and let me use your cock like you used my pussy. It’s only fair, wouldn’t you say?”

He nods his head vigorously. 

“Good. Now relax”, you say, pushing his head back and speeding up your hips. 

Jungkook returns to his most natural state, moaning and sobbing just for you as his body writhes underneath you. His eyes are squeezed shut, his cheeks flushed and his pretty lips pouted in bliss. He looks so content with the situation. Content, but also utterly ruined. His arms keep tensing, clearly fighting the urge to squeeze you strongly. 

You run your hands to his biceps and squeeze them softly. Tense just how you thought. Your clit throbs against his cock.

“Fuck, I want you so bad”, you moan, giving in to your urges and lifting yourself just so you can sink down on his cock. 

“Ah”, Jungkook gets out, chasing you by sitting up straight. He was so lost in the feeling of your wet clit grinding against his cock that he didn’t even realise that you were taking him back in. 

“Relax”, you whisper, pushing him back down gently. His head does a thun as it hits the window again.

“Holy fuck”, he croaks, “holy fuck please let me cum, please.”

“Not yet”, you say and begin bouncing on him. 

“Ah!” Jungkook moans, arching his back, “ah! ah! ah!” 

He can’t do much more than make noises. There are only a few better things than having you ride him. Jungkook loves fucking you. He loves to control the tempo and movement and how you writhe and moan in reaction. He fucking loves it. But there is something especially heavenly about having you bounce on him. 

To be at your mercy, to take what you give him and to be reduced to a pretty cock to bounce on. Jungkook lives for the feeling of it, begging you to continue in a shaky voice.

“That’s it, holy fuck that’s it”, you moan, pressing yourself closer with one single goal in mind. Cum on his cock. Your naked tits press against his sculpted chest. His body heat mixes with yours, forcing layers of sweat to cover your skins. It’s an addicting sensation. To be so close and warm and sweaty with him as your bodies connect in harsh bounces. It’s addicting.

“I wanna cum”, Jungkook sobs, fighting the spell, “this is torture, it hurts so much.”

“Say the word and I’ll stop, you know you can stop this baby”, you pant, hugging him tighter against you. You need his stomach to grind against your clit. His cock is so deep inside you. You possibly couldn’t take all of him and yet he still feels as if he is going to rearrange your insides. You’re so goddamn addicted to that feeling. 

“Don’t stop”, Jungkook doesn’t say the word. He begs for more. Burying his face in the crook of your neck and going hazy at your scent, he begs for more. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing you desperately.

“I won’t, baby I won’t. You feel so good, you have no idea”, you choke out and moan loudly. You bury your fingers in his damp curls, pulling him closer this way. You need him so bad. Nobody knows just how bad you need him. You weren’t able to be like this with him for years. He would have ripped you apart before that, hurt you, even killed you. You had to hold back, he had to be restrained and muffled, people had to step in between whenever you grew too close. Two lovers forbidden from connecting in the most addicting of ways because otherwise you would have ended up dead. Two lovers now finally alone and able to find each other without the fear of being separated again. Nobody truly understands how much you want him. How much this morning means to you. 

“You feel so good”, you moan, “Kookie, you feel so good.”

“Please don’t stop”, he begs.

You knew that this trip wouldn’t be very productive. That you would spend most of it in your camper van while outside the weather was nice. It would have been a shocking surprise if you didn’t use the newfound freedom exploring each other every waking second. Perhaps this is even why you went on this trip in the first place. To fuck without restraints. Living with the others in your big, spacious castle was nice, but sometimes it feels better to know that you have true privacy. That everyone who can hear your blissful moans was a  stranger, who will never get to know you. 

It’s just you and him in a sea of strangers and that shit makes you want to ride him even harder. 

“I love you”, you pant, “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too. Ah please”, Jungkook mewls, drooling all over your shoulder. His toes curl, his thighs tremble. He can’t let go even if he needs to. Jungkook feels this close to passing out. 

“I’m fucking cumming”, you moan, convulsing on top of him without stopping your movements, “holy fuck, holy fucking fuck Kook. Oh god.”

This is what happens when you get your hands on him. You get so goddamn greedy that you keep fucking yourself stupid while your body shakes uncontrollably. Your clit throbs against his tummy and your pussy convulses around his huge cock and yet you can’t stop. You don’t want to stop. 

“Please”, Jungkook sobs, “please, please I wanna cum, please.”

“Not yet, I’m not done”, you croak, lifting your head to stare at him. His hair is just as messy and wet as yours is. You are fucking so hard that it’s hard not to sweat. It’s hot. He looks so good when his skin glistens. He thinks the same about you, looking up at you with teary eyes and his cock throbbing deep inside you. The connection burns him alive. To share such a messy, private state with you in this golden lit, warm room feels like a dream to him. He tugs on your hips. 

“Please I wanna cum in you”, he begs. 

“And get all sensitive? You’re better off like this.”

“No, I’m not”, he whimpers, giving you puppy eyes.

“Say the word, Kookie. One word and I’ll lift the spell.”

Jungkook sobs, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Kiss me. Please”, he pleads.

“Fuck, Kook. I want you so bad”, you say, squishing his face as you pull him into a kiss. Sloppy tongues and deep moans. You kiss each other as if this was the last moment on earth. 

You sink down on him more. He stretched you well enough that it feels possible now. One more inch. Two more inches. The last inch and your ass connects with his meaty thighs. The impact is audible. Skin slaps against skin, your pussy squelches now that your mixed pleasure gets spread all over his lap. 

Jungkook moans into the kiss. You swallow his sounds and press yourself closer. All he should do is kiss you and give you his big cock. You bounce on him, circling your hips to make sure that not even an inch of you misses out on the ecstatic feeling of being stuffed by him. Jungkook whimpers into the kiss and tugs on your hips again. He wants to both hug you as he loves you like crazy, but he also wants to grip your hips and force them to slow down. He signed a devil’s contract when he allowed you to use magic on him. The pressure in his tummy has become so huge that his legs feel numb. He swears his balls grew twice their size by now, he can’t even comfortably close his legs anymore because it would crush his balls. He begs his body to be stronger than your spell. To cum. To please release him of this pressure. But he can’t. He is at your mercy and it hurts so goddamn wonderfully.

He breaks the kiss just as you break it. He wanted to beg for mercy, but you interrupted him with a high-pitched moan.

“Kookie, this is making me cum”, you confess, rubbing yourself against his abs while his veiny cock was grinding against your g-spot. 

“Don’t stop”, he begs, wanting nothing more than your high, “please don’t stop”, he begs even if his cock feels like bursting. The pressure spreads to his upper tummy as well. Jungkook never tensed his abs as much as he has to right now. But he has to stay strong. You are going to cum and this is more important than finding his own release. 

“Oh god, Kookie, oh god”, you drop your face into the crook of his neck, “oh god baby, holy fuck I’m so filled up with you, oh god now.” 

Your body grows limp and starts shaking. You whimper into his neck, flinching and trembling and convulsing on top of him. You wanted to keep fucking him, but you can’t. This is so much more intense than your first high. Now stuffed with all of his cock and being so close to him, your body is breaking apart under the pleasure. 

“This is so good, please baby please”, Jungkook sobs, chasing your high with harsh thrusts. It shakes you on top of him and makes holding on hard, but it’s a goddamn perfect fucking thing. You are so weak that you can’t move anymore, so having Jungkook take over feels like sweet relief, “it hurts so much, I wanna cum”, Jungkook wails, fangs tickling your skin because of how lost he is. He won’t bite you, but it’s hard to hide his natural state if you fuck him that hard.

“Please cum for me”, you order, lifting the spell with a kiss to his neck. 

Jungkook screams up and breaks. The pressure bursts the second the spell is lifted. Your name is the only thing which he manages to choke out and then all he can do is scream and shake.

“Yes Kookie! Yes! That’s it! Yes!” you encourage him, riding him in sloppy rolls of your hips. Now he is the one who can’t move, while you take over for him.

He cums so hard that your pussy gets too wet and his cock flops out. His creamy seed bursts out of you and covers your ass and his thighs messily. And as you leak uncontrollably, Jungkook keeps cumming, spreading his white pleasure everywhere.

“I can’t stop”, he sobs, “I can’t stop, I can’t stop.”

“That’s my boy, that’s it. Such a good boy”, you praise him, reaching behind yourself to push him back inside.

“___!” Jungkook screams and feels how much harder he cums. It scares him how good it feels. So this is what happens when your magic prevents his body from functioning normally. This is what happens when you finally give him back control. He can’t stop cumming. Jungkook fights the feeling and sobs, burying his face in your shoulder “please make it stop, please.”

“Almost there, baby. Almost there, don’t give up on me”, you talk him through it, bouncing on his throbbing cock to help him ride it out.

“Please make it stop, I can’t stop. Please don’t make me cum- no- again!” he wails, throwing his head back as he cries the hottest tears, “make it s-stop please.”

“Almost there baby, I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well. I know it’s a lot, but if we stop now you’ll end up with way too much cum still inside you. We have to milk you, yeah?”

“It won’t stop, please I’m s-scared.”

“I’m right here. Almost done, baby. Almost there”, you soothe him, caressing his cheeks as he does the best job of emptying his heavy balls inside you.

"Mistress please make it stop”, he begs.

“I know baby, I know”, you soothe him, pulling his head to you so you can smother his cheeks in kisses, “don’t give up, almost there baby. You’re such a good boy, so good.”

Jungkook wails up one last time. One last time he empties his balls inside you. One last time he dances between the world of the living and the world of the dead. One last time he fights for air and then it finally stops.

His body finally stops spasming, his cock finally stops throbbing and his balls finally feel empty. Every inch of his body gives up. He slacks against the headboard, head rolling to the side and almost slipping off if you hadn’t caught it. You place it on the edge gently, running your fingers through his soaked hair. He is barely breathing, dripping sweat from his face as behind his closed lids, his eyes don’t seem to stop racing.

“Good job, my babyboy”, you praise him, drying the tears from his face.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, he merely lets his head slack into your hand and then gravity drags his torso down resulting in his head getting bent into an uncomfortable position.

“Careful, hey my honey”, you giggle, placing your arms around him so you can pull him against your chest.

Jungkook falls into you like a limp ragdoll, his head bounces against your shoulder, knocking a barely there sound out of him.

“Kookie, are you okay?” you ask him, caressing his back.

He doesn’t move. He can’t move. Almost as if he was paralysed. Oh. Everything falls into place. This is the result of a Ripper high. You actually made him cum so hard that it equaled the intensity of a Ripper high. Jungkook is actually paralysed because you made him cum too fucking hard.

“You’re doing so well, my babyboy”, you praise him, slipping off of his cock to make it easier for him to come back to you.

He whimpers softly.

“Sorry, I know that was a lot”, you say, ignoring the feeling of you leaking his cum. It’s so much and doesn’t want to stop, “but you’re safe with me. I’m right here, babyboy.”

You run your fingers over his back.

“Take your time, Kookie. I’m not going anywhere”, you whisper, hugging him against your chest and running your fingers through his soaked hair. It’s covered in sweat. You feel as hot as he does. You came so goddamn hard right now. You rest your chin on his shoulder and let your head fall against his’, “I’m so done. This was the most intense orgasm ever”, you say and close your eyes, falling into the blissful feeling of recovering with him together. You keep leaking as you do, but you try to ignore it for now.

The first thing Jungkook manages to move are his arms. They fall around your waist and keep you close.

“Hey there”, you whisper.

“Hey”, he croaks.

“That was something, wasn’t it?”

He nods his head, giving you a soft squeeze.

“I’m still leaking”, you say and giggle.

When Jungkook doesn’t laugh with you, you lift your head in worry. He raises his head, looking at you with teary eyes.

“Hey Kookie, are you okay?” you gasp, cupping his cheeks.

“Thank you”, he chokes out, cradling your face between his weak hands, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my honey”, you say, closing the distance between you and him until your foreheads touch.

“Thank you”, he whispers, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You chuckle, kissing the slope of his nose.

“You’re so polite.”

“I’m in your debt.”

You snicker, “no you’re not. You deserved this.”

“I was so scared.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

“I know, I was so scared but it felt so good. I, I don’t feel horny anymore.”

“Hah”, you laugh softly, “good to know that this is what it takes for you to stop being needy.”

“Yeah”, he chuckles, “I’m still gonna give you lots of orgasms on this trip.”

“Oh really? Well, that’s good to know”, you tease, ruffling his wet hair, “how about we take a shower first and get something to eat? And then spend more time at the beach? It’s a nice day, we should do something other than just fuck.”

“Why? We haven’t been able to do this for so long. Just you and I. It’s new to us.”

“Yeah, it’s so nice.”

“It’s paradise.”

“It really is.”

“I want to pinch myself, because I keep thinking that it’s not real.”

“It’s real, my sweetie.”

“I can’t believe it. This is real. You're with me and I actually know how to control myself.”

“After just three years of training that is.”

Jungkook smiles, “I can’t believe that this is real.”

“Me neither, but it is. And I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud.”

Jungkook lifts his head and flashes you a bright smile.

“Oh ___”, he says, swooping you off his lap so he could roll in the sheets with you, “I love you so much.”

“Careful Kookie, I’m leaking”, you laugh, trying your hardest to close your legs.

“Sorry, god”, he laughs, pressing his knee against your pussy “I don’t know what happened. It was so much cum.”

“Yeah it was. That’s so hot”, you say and give him a fond grin.

Jungkook retorts it, caressing your butt.

“You even tensed up at the end, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I honestly felt like I wouldn’t come back. How the fuck did you give me a Ripper high without blood?”

You snicker, “witchy talent.”

“You’re seriously so hot. Thank fuck you discovered your powers.” 

“Yeah, seriously”, you agree and snicker, “you think that Yoongi would be down to get this done to him?”

Jungkook’s eyes light up.

“He’ll pretend that he isn’t but yeah a hundred percent. I think he’d marry you on the spot if you gave him a Ripper high without the blood.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, hell yeah. Fuck, I wanna marry you on the spot for doing that to me. Like oh my god, be my wife please”, Jungkook says, making you laugh. 

“Mhm, fine”, you giggle, “we can all be married”, you joke, snickering happily. 

Jungkook laughs with you, running his hand up and down your leg. 

“Deal.”

“Mhm, best deal.”

“Yeah”, he smiles, “hey, do you want to wash each other?” he suggests, “I promise I won’t get horny again, I just want to be close to you.”

“Do you think that the shower is going fit us both?”

“I don’t know, we could try.”

“We could. I would love to take a shower with you, sweets”, you tell him, “and if it won’t fit, we could run down to the beach and jump into the water.”

“Yeah totally”, he giggles.

You will share a lovely day with him. It will be filled with yummy food, intimate conversations, sweet kisses and way too much fun at the beach. And later that night he makes good on his promises and you share yet another blissful moment with each other.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook oneshot #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #sub!jungkook #vampire!jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #sub!bts #vampire!bts #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #sub!bangtan #vampire!bangtan #fanfic: sanguis duology

[7s3ven]

UR MY LOVER. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Camp Half-Blood has its very own band to entertain themselves. Most of the campers aren’t sure where they get their electricity for their instruments but one thing they are certain about is that the substitute lead singer and lead guitarist definitely have a thing for each other.

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth. The girl in my story has always been you.”

A/N : Luke seems like he’d be in a band

Warning : sex references, some details differ from the og books, modern references

—

Y/N has been lounging in the sun on her rickety front porch when something, or rather someone, blocked the rays of warmth. She groaned, lowering her sunglasses to get a better look at who was bothering her.

“What?” She grumbled to the mischievous son of Hermes, Luke. It’s not like she hated him, quite the opposite to be honest. His presence was a breath of fresh air in her stressful days at Camp Half-Blood. But she was sleep-deprived and in desperate need of a rest. Luke merely smiled down at her, unthreatened by her hostile tone.

“Hey, little bolt.” He uttered, crouching down beside her to almost match her height. Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing her glasses back up with her middle finger. “So as you know, Chiron is letting us form a band. The only problem is I have an electric guitar and, you know, it needs electricity. And there’s not enough ‘round here. Personally, I think we’re lucky to have a daughter of Zeus.”

Y/N scoffed. “No.” She quickly retorted, already guessing what he was going to ask her. “I won’t power your stupid performances.”

“What? Why would I ask that? I was going to ask you if you wanted a quicky backstage.” Luke sarcastically joked, his lips curving into a cheeky smirk. Y/N’s lips curled into an unamused sneer as she set her sharp gaze on the boy beside her. “Help me out this one time, babe.”

“Ew,” She furrowed her eyebrows in disgust, “Don’t call me that.”

“Come on, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna stop until you agree. I won’t ever ask for this favor again, pudding.” His nicknames were becoming increasingly worse and Y/N's ears were practically bleeding. Y/N cringed and covered her ears, desperately wanting to bang her head into a wall to drown his voice out. Her last thread was Luke calling her kitty.

“Okay!” She sat up, flinging her glasses at him. Luke effortlessly caught them, looking down at the intricate rims. He traced his fingers over the gems embedded in the sides. They shined in the light and small rainbows reflected off them. “Just stop calling me those horrid names!” She exclaimed, slapping his shoulder.

He grinned, “Deal. Practice is tonight, 8 pm sharp. Don’t be late.” He tossed Y/N’s glasses back at her and quickly stood up. “See ya, princess.”

Y/N wanted to hurl a rock at him for that stupid pet name but Luke was already running away, bellowing out a laugh as he tilted his head back in amusement. “I’m going to electrocute you, Luke! I hope your guitar backfires!” She screamed, earning another chuckle from Luke.

“Yo, guys.” He burst into his cabin, grinning at Chris and Charles who were positioned on his bed, lazily lying down. “Y/N’s in. Now we just need a lead singer. Charles, how’s convincing Silena going?”

Charles pressed his lips into a thin line. “You know she has stage fright.” He uttered, referring to his girlfriend, “Maybe if I mentioned that Y/N will be there then she’ll go? I think she has a girl crush on Y/N.” Charles let out a low chortle.

Everyone liked Y/N, apart from when she was deprived of sleep and grumpy. She was like a fire ready to flare up, stalking its way through the high grass.

“So, how did you convince Y/N? I heard from Annabeth that she was in a particularly bad mood today.” Chris uttered, chuckling. "Did you promise her sex or something?" Luke shrugged as Charles chucked a can of Sprite his way.

He pulled back the tab and the can opened with a pop and fizz. “Nah. A part of me wishes, though. I might get some if I did. But, I have my ways.” He retorted, grinning. “Band practice is at eight. Charles, do your best to get Silena on board because I can’t deal with Clarisse as lead singer.” Luke sighed, taking a huge gulp from his can. Chris chuckled while Charles silently nodded in agreement.

“She is rather hard to deal with.” Charles muttered, his voice almost a whisper in fear that Clarisse would overhear him.

Luke would have asked Y/N to be the band’s lead singer but he knew she wasn’t happy with having to power up his guitar. She’d rather jump in water than agree to sing and she hated water. It probably had something to do with the fact that she could create electricity with her bare hands.

Water and lightning never went well together.

Luke was buzzing with excitement as he jogged towards an abandoned cabin Chiron had agreed to let them use for practice. He opened the creaky door, surprised to see Y/N already sitting on a dusty couch.

“I already hate it here.” She said, turning to face him. He cracked a grin.

“Not enough sleep last night, huh?”

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “I barely got any. Some idiots were up all night, singing their hearts out to Olivia Rodrigo.” Luke was ashamed to admit that those idiots were him, Chris, and the Stoll brothers. “I mean, how much of a loser do you have to be to scream your heart out to jealousy?”

“I don’t know.” Luke shrugged, sitting next to her. Dust surrounded the air around him and he coughed, fanning it away with his hand. His actions made Y/N lightly chuckle. “Maybe they related to the lyrics. Unlike you, perfect girl.”

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not perfect. I’m far from it.” Luke quickly turned to face her, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“How come? You’re pretty and smart and you’ve got Zeus as your dad. Come on, you hit the jackpot on that one.” Luke grinned and the corners of Y/N’s lips twitched.

“You think I’m perfect?” She asked, confused. She quietly laughed, giving Luke an almost judging stare. “I don’t even have my life together. How can I be perfect?”

“Most of us don’t have our lives together. Look at me, I’m well over sixteen now and I’m starting a band at camp because there’s nothing to do ‘round here. And I’m also sitting in a dodgy looking cabin with dust everywhere. But hey, at least I have a pretty girl with me.”

Y/N stared at Luke for a second before she huffed in amusement. “You’re a no-good flirt, Luke.” She playfully shoved him.

“You seem in a better mood.” He smiled, proud of himself.

“You had nothing to do with it, I can assure you.” She rolled her eyes and turned her head, spotting Chris, Silena, and Charles walking towards the cabin. “Looks like your band mates are here.” She uttered, sitting up.

“Hey man, what’s up!” Chris joyfully greeted Luke while Charles’ approach was more quiet. Silena smiled at Luke and waved at Y/N with a bright smile.

“Alright, so everybody’s here. We got Charles on drums, Chris as back up guitar, me as lead and sub vocals, and Silena as vocals.” Luke loudly clapped his hands as away to earn everybody’s attention.

“Does that make me your back-up generator then?” Y/N butted in.

“Yeah. Hold this, darling.” Luke handed her a cord that connected to his guitar and she begrudgingly took it.

“No more names.” She warned, sending a small current to shock Luke. He yelped, taken aback, all while Y/N smirked. She stayed true to her words to electrocute Luke if he ever annoyed her.

Y/N lay on the couch, clutching onto the cord and aimlessly staring at the ceiling. The sound of Charles’ loud drums and Silena’s soft voice merged with the loud ringing in Y/N’s ears. She kept her eyes fixed on a certain spot, completely dazed until Luke pressed a cold can to her face.

“We’re taking a break.” He said, offering her a drink. She arched an eyebrow.

“Why are you giving me one?” She questioned, sitting up and taking it away.

Luke shrugged. “I mean, you are powering up my guitar. You deserve a little thanks.”

Y/N merely stared at Luke before cracking open the can, taking a small sip. “I trust you haven’t drugged this?”

Luke lightly snorted. “I have no purpose to put coke in your drink.” He held out his hand, silently asking for sip. Y/N shoved the can into his arms.

“So, when did you get the idea of forming a band?” She questioned, tapping her foot against the wooden floor. She glanced at Luke who smiled, a strange wishful look in his gaze.

“I’ve always loved music.” He admitted, “And being a demigod, you don’t exactly have a lot of chances. I did play at one festival, though… and it was amazing. But then I got attacked by a monster.” Luke chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in amusement. “It was still the best moment of my life. And I want that kind of joy back.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it back. What’s it like playing the guitar?” She quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. Luke grinned, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth.

“Amazing. You wanna learn?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I can hardly hold a guitar correctly, let alone play it, Luke.”

“Come on, pretty. I’ll show ya.”

“I need two hands to play. But I also need to power up the guitar. How do you suppose that’ll work?”

“You’ll figure out a way. You always do.”

That’s how Y/N ended up holding the plug with Luke sitting almost directly behind her, guiding her hands. He smiled as Y/N struggled, her fingers never quite reaching the right chords.

A twig snapped and Chris walked into the cabin, wiping away sweat with the back of his hand. “Man, it is hot outside- Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt something?” Chris paused, staring the pair.

“No.” Y/N quickly answered. They practically jumped away from each other. She handed Luke his guitar, clearing her throat.

“I should get going.” She announced to nobody in particular. She briefly smiled at the two boys before spinning around on her heels, quickly walking away.

“Hey, pretty, wait!” Luke stood up in a hurry but Y/N was already out the door and walking past the tall trees.

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes as she waltzed out of her cabin, almost screaming when she saw Luke leaned up against the wall.

He grinned and greeted her, tipping an imaginary hat. “Hey, pretty. You up for charging my guitar today? I need to practice my riffs.”

Y/N thickly gulped, looking for any sign of Chris or Charles or even Silena, who she knew was busy with teaching kids archery. “… Alone?” She questioned after a long pause.

“Yeah. Does that bother you? I can practice another time.” Luke offered.

The warm sun bore down on Y/N as she stared at Luke. “No… it’s not a problem. When do you want to practice?”

Luke stood up straight, folding his arms over his chest. He grinned down at Y/N. “Right now if you’re free, pretty. But it looks like you just woke up. Bad sleep?”

“Hardly any at all. Again.” Y/N retorted, sour and harsh. She silently followed Luke to the cabin, raising her eyes in surprise when she saw the lack of dust. “You cleaned it?” She questioned, craning her head to get a better look.

“Yup. The dust was getting to my eyes.” Luke uttered. Y/N hummed in quiet approval.

“You’d make a good house husband. You can clean, you can charm your way through everything, and you can play guitar. What’s next? Cooking?”

Luke smugly smirked, “I’m actually great with a pan, pretty. I’ll make you cinnamon toast someday. Or do you prefer pancakes?”

“Food is food.” She shrugged. “So, how’s the guitar going?” She fiddled with the cord, “I always wanted to learn piano. I tried it a few times but it never stuck.”

“I think you’d look charming playing the piano, pretty.” He flirtatiously smiled, twirling a strand of Y/N’s H/C hair around his finger. Y/N stiffened, her cheeks practically glowing red.

“Are you going to practice or stare at me until we grow eighty?” Y/N muttered, leaning away from Luke.

“I think I’m going to continue staring.” He retorted, winking at her. Y/N looked away, lightly frowning.

“So, what songs are you going to sing?”

“Silena’s gonna be doing most of the vocal work but there’s one song I’ll be singing.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, silently telling him to continue because as much as she tried to dislike being here with Luke, she was curious. Luke plucked at the guitar strings, humming out a quiet melody.

“Wait.” Y/N articulated, “You aren’t going to sing to me, right? I don’t want a Barbie moment.”

“Too bad.” Luke replied, already getting ready to sing. Y/N softly groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was expecting Luke’s voice to be like nails on a chalkboard, a horrible sound overall, but the lyrics slipped past his lips and Y/N found herself not entirely hating it.

“Are you seriously singing Elvis Presley?” She said over the sound of Luke’s voice and guitar. He merely grinned, nodding his head.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you?” Luke smiled, his gaze never faltering. He was staring straight at Y/N as he meticulously played complicated chords. She felt uncomfortable under his eyes and a part of her wanted to sink into the couch. “This is one of your favourite songs, is it not?” Luke asked as he continued strumming.

“How would you know that, Luke?”

“Trust me, pretty. I hear you singing with the Apollo kids. As grumpy as you are without sleep sometimes, you sure sound cheerful when you’re singing Elvis. Join in on the singing, won’t ya?”

“Like a river flows. Surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be.” Luke swayed, waiting for Y/N to join. She begrudgingly did.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help…falling in love with you.” They sang in unison. Y/N’s eyes were focused straight ahead of her while Luke’s ran over her soft features and lips that had been tinted with lipstick.

“Like a river flows. Surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be.”

Luke couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as Y/N’s voice drowned out his own and he stopped singing. She was far too lost in the music to notice.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help falling in love with you.” Y/N turned back to Luke, faltering when she saw how he was staring at her. Like she was his whole world or like she had planted the beautiful stars in the sky.

“For I can't help… falling in love with you.” Luke sang the iconic last line, grinning. His face was much closer to Y/N’s than he anticipated, causing her to flinch. She didn’t shuffle away, though.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look… pretty?” Luke chuckled at how his sentence and his nickname for Y/N clashed. The apples of her cheeks turned bright pink and she didn’t sneer at him this time. She only stared at him with eyes that were vulnerable lest Luke give her another compliment.

The door to the haughty shack slammed open, Charles entering. He spluttered in surprise when he saw Y/N and Luke. “Sorry… I can leave and come back… if you want…”

Y/N stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her shirt. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.” She didn’t spare Luke another glance as she hurried out, flustered.

“Were you two about to kiss?” Charles questioned. Luke frustratingly groaned, holding his face in his head.

“I liked to think we were going to.”

Y/N stood in the side lines of the stage, holding Luke’s cord while staring at a clipboard she held in her other hand. It was the list of songs Luke had given her to keep her occupied.

i, Lovesick by Laufey - sung by Silena

ii, Venus by Regina Song - sung by Silena

iii, Can’t help falling in love by Elvis - sung by Luke

The second song fit the daughter of Aphrodite. Y/N glanced at the stage, her eyes immediately finding Luke. He was helping Charles set up his drums. Luke seemed to sense her eyes on him and he lifted his head, smirking.

Y/N quickly diverted her gaze as she heard Luke jog towards her. “Hey, pretty.” He greeted her, “Silena’s vocals can only take so much singing so are you good taking over the last song?”

“No.” Y/N answered but Luke didn’t hear her, or he chose to ignore her.

“Thanks, pretty. I owe you one. Love ya!” He ran off while Y/N mentally cursed at him. She angrily looked at the list, her eyes slightly softening when she saw the song.

iv, Lover (remix) by Taylor Swift + Shawn Mendes

It was one of her favourite songs. She could remember listening to it when she wasn’t aware of her demigod status, always wishing for a love as pure as Jack and Rose’s. Despite being swamped by complicated emotions, she was still a teenage girl secretly wishing for a teen romance like the books and movies and songs suggested.

The makeshift concert started with a short light show conducted by an Iris kid and that’s when the band finally stepped out. The demigod crowd cheered, clapping their hands. The Aphrodite girls were holding signs up for Silena and Luke quietly chuckled as his Hermes brothers yelled a little too loudly.

Silena’s voice was beautiful as she sang and Y/N found herself shrinking back. How could she compete with that? She didn’t even want to sing. She was fine sitting backstage with nothing but a clipboard to stare at.

At least Luke seemed to be enjoying himself and all the attention he was gaining from the girls. Y/N felt her chest tighten. It’s not like she had feelings for Luke… did she? In this moment, Y/N wanted nothing more than to be an Aphrodite kid because at least they could sense love.

Luke sang the melody to the Elvis Presley song with as much tenderness as he did in the cabin, occasionally glancing over at Y/N to see her mouthing the words.

“Pretty, you’re up.” Luke said as the band hurried back stage for a small break. He took the guitar cord from Y/N, plugging it into some sort of machine that she didn’t recognise. “Drink some water so you don’t get dehydrated. You know the words, don’t ya?”

Y/N could only nod, too confused to process everything at once. “What about your guitar?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t ya worry.” Luke ushered her up the steps onto the brightly lit stage. “Alright guys, we’re back. Did ya miss us? Of course you did. Anyway, Silena’s swamped so we’ve got Y/N singing. Don’t worry, folks, she has a great voice when she’s feeling nice.”

Luke cheekily grinned as he adjusted his headset microphone while Y/N glared at him.

“Anyway, this song will be a duet between me and Y/N. Last song for the night, hope you guys enjoy!”

The music started playing immediately, causing Y/N to stiffen. She locked eyes with Luke, who was standing a meter away from her, nodding his head to the beat.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January. And this is our place, we make the rules.” She hesitatingly sang, earning a few hollers from the Apollo cabin. “And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear. Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my…” The vivid image of Y/N and Luke singing together, their faces millimetres apart, haunted Y/N. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she glanced at Luke once more only to see that he was already smiling at her.

“Lover.” Luke mouthed as Y/N sang.

Luke tapped his foot, slowly playing his guitar. “We could light a bunch of candles and dance around the kitchen, baby. Pictures of when we were young would hang on the wall. We would sit on the stoop. I'll sing love songs to you when we're eighty.”

“See, I finally got you now, honey, I won't let you fall.” They lulled out in unison. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever, ah. Take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my lover.” Their voices blended together perfectly and the crowd found themselves swaying to the music, clearly noticing the romantic tension between Luke and Y/N.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand. I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.” Y/N nervously clasped her hands around her mic, her breath shuddering when Luke beamed at her.

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth. The girl in my story has always been you.” Luke strummed the guitar cords as he walked towards Y/N, “I’d go down with the Titanic, it’s true. For you, lover.”

The music ended there, despite the song still having another chorus left. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at Luke. “You had enough electricity this whole time?” She whispered away from the mic.

“Yeah. I just wanted to spend time with you, pretty. I like you, Y/N. More than I should admit because my fan girls will be a little upset.” Luke chuckled as he jogged off stage, Y/N following close behind.

“So I used my electricity for nothing? You could’ve just asked me to accompany you!” Y/N slapped his shoulder.

“Oh, come on, pretty. Be realistic. You wouldn’t have come if I merely asked. Even if I confessed to you then and there.”

“And what exactly do you like about me?”

“Everything, Y/N. The way your eyes shine when you read, the way you smile when you sing Elvis songs, and the way you have freckles that line up in a square, like constellations on your face. The truth is, you could break my heart into tiny little pieces and I’d still pick them up for you to hold. You like rainbows, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“I adore you, Y/N. And it doesn’t matter that sometimes our worlds are coloured with different hues. Because when the colours bleed into each other, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Apart from your face and soul, of course.”

“What if the colour turns out to be an ugly yellow?”

“You’re ruining the mood, pretty.”

Y/N clicked her tongue as she tilted forward, gingerly pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s lips. He gently gasped.

“Your mics is on, by the way.” She whispered, “Just thought you’d like to know.”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #annabeth chase #greek mythology #grover underwood #percy jackson series #percy jackson x reader #ares percy jackson #luke castellan pjo #zeus pjo #pjo show #percy jackson show #luke pjo #camp half blood #zeus greek mythology #hermes pjo #luke castellan x reader #dionysus pjo #pjo tv show #pjo disney+ #romantic #teenage love

[sugucidal]

# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER i. [3k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.

୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!

୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3

‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.

Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.

Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.

You were finally gonna confess.

"I want you."

The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.

A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.

"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."

You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!

What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.

He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.

You hate when people play hard to get.

"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?

"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.

"Whatever gets you off my case."

That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.

You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.

You regret talking to him that night every single day.

Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.

Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.

Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.

Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.

You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.

Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.

"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.

Guess some things never change.

You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.

Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.

'Speak of the devil', you sighed.

Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"

"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."

You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.

You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.

The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.

"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.

"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."

Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.

"Yeah..quite some impression alright."

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.

"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?

The answer was yes. Yes It was.

Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.

A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.

'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.

"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"

Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.

Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.

You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.

But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.

Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.

And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.

Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.

Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.

"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.

So you opt for the safest response.

With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."

Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?

Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.

"You barely changed."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.

Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.

'What's up with me??''

Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.

Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.

Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.

Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.

The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.

'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.

Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."

Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.

But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.

The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.

Toji couldn't stop looking at you.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–

"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?

"To my room, why?"

"Didn't you hear at dinner?"

'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'

"No, hear what exactly?"

"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."

A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.

"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.

She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"

Oh. Nevermind then.

"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.

Low blow, mom.

"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."

"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."

"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."

Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.

"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."

Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.

© DIVINEDABI 2023 — All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.

#୨♡୧ — 𝐉𝑼𝐉𝐔𝐓𝑺𝑼 𝐊𝐀𝒊𝐒𝑬𝐍 #⸼ ׁ꒰ ᵗᵒʲⁱ ᶠᵘˢʰⁱᵍᵘʳᵒ ꒱ ׁ⸼ #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro fanfic #toji fushiguro x you #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk self insert #jjk series #toji fic #toji smut #toji fluff #toji fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you

[manicpixiefelix]

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

{ masterpost : 1/2 }

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

{ part two here }

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x farleigh start #oliver quick smut #farleigh start smut #farleigh smut #farleigh start x reader x oliver quick #farleigh x reader x oliver #manic writer

[motimatcha]

rings

hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader. Adam boasts; you think; a little hint of something more at the end.

— Yo, [name] check out what I have, — Adam says enthusiastically, bursting into your shared bedroom.

By the time the angel entered the room, you had just finished changing into your home clothes in the form of a very long and loose shirt, which hid your home shorts. The shirt, by the way, previously belonged to Adam, but he was nice enough to share part of his wardrobe with you.

— Oh, how sweet, apparently someone missed me, — Adam says touchingly, and stars are reflected in his eyes when he pays attention to your appearance.

Taking off the mask from his face and turning his head in different directions, allowing his gray hair to take its natural position, Adam plops down on your bed. He lies in place for a while, allowing himself to stretch out to his full height, until a joint crack and a sigh are heard. And only after that he rises again on his elbows to take his place next to you.

Adam falls silent again, enjoying the silence of the moment and the fact that you both are together again. Your hand falls on his head, closes in his gray hair and twists individual strands around his fingers, prompting the man to blissfully close his eyes and practically fall asleep under your gentle hands. His golden wings flutter from this sensation and he, more instinctively than acting on his own will, covers your body with one of his wings.

Adam puts his hand under your body, you feel something cold, but you prefer not to pay attention to it, thinking that the angel’s hands were simply frozen; Adam’s other hand rests on your stomach, his long fingers tracing circles and patterns on your skin.

— So, what did you want to show me?

— Oh, fuck, that's right. I almost forgot about that, — Adam snaps his head up, causing you to remove your hand from his hair. — Look look.

He shows you the hand that was rubbing your stomach. In the light of the room lamp, you notice that something shines on his fingers and a second later you realize that they are black rings: one on the little finger, two rings on the index finger and one on the thumb — made of black metal, without any inserts or decorations, The rings complemented his rock star look and definitely suited him in his exorcist attire. But it could not be denied that the rings on his long fingers, as if designed for wearing such accessories, looked delicious. And it's hot…

— A gift after the concert from… whatever that bitch’s name was… it doesn’t matter, — the angel explained, taking your long glance as a question. — It’s on the other hand too. By the way, I left you one too.

…you imagined how those ringed fingers would tease your pussy…

— …I’m thinking about getting myself a piercing…

…you imagined how those fingers with rings would clasp your neck, tickling your nerves from the feeling of the coldness of the metal and its hot skin…

— …Maybe I’ll pierce my tongue and put something in my ears.

...you imagined how Adam would plunge his fingers into your mouth, making them suck like the sweetest candy or his dick...

— What do you think, sweetie?

— What?

— Hey, weren’t you fucking listening to me? — Adam asks with offense in his voice and looks into your face. Your gaze is distant, thoughtful, lustful… Adam's lips are distorted into a smirk when he catches the motive of your thoughts. — Oh, baby, I see you like my ideas. And my rings.

Adam’s voice is deceptively gentle, practically purring in your ear as he shifts his position. The man sits down at your bent knees and in one smooth motion pushes your knees to the side to make himself comfortable.

— I think I can give this good girl all my attention.

the idea came into my head after a tik tok video where adam had rings and piercings and now i can't stop thinking about it. Maybe it's time for me to go touch the grass. I don't think the world will collapse if I send you a link to the video.

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[undercoverpena]

about someone, that isn't you

simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader

wc: 3.1k warnings: angst. injured reader. whump. happy ending. blood. feelings. jo-angst. summary: memories that cloud reality, forcing him to blink them away—finding less glimmer, less shine greeting him as your eyes try to go dull. 

He finds you in the centre of dust and debris. 

You’re painted in scarlet, lying boldly in off-cream ruin. And his heart hurls itself into his ribs—stopping, painfully halting its thump as he takes you in.

You with your eyes open, you’re searching and seeking—lips parted as you gasp and groan. Your hands shakily smother the wound. The hole pierced into you, allowing carmine to flow past your trembling fingers. 

The sight such a contrast to yesterday. 

When you'd not stopped smirking, laughing, being.

The sand had whipped across your face, and your eyes had glimmered and shone. Almost brighter than the rising sun.

His ink-surrounded eyes watched as you took in the start of the new day, trying to hold back your amazement until you turned, and stared directly at him. Piercing into him with a shade so beautiful, he wasn’t sure there could be a name. 

Dense, hefty, unsaid words pulsed in time with the breeze running through the sand. Ones that had been forming for weeks, months.

The mountainside cave you’re both holed in casting you both in slithers of light and shadow. Making your smile closer to a smirk.

Just tell her. Just tell her. Just tell her.   

Ghost wishes they were back there. 

Desperately wishes it. Wanting life to have a button, one he could slam his gloves fist into—forcing it to restart like a last checkpoint as if this were a game and not real life. 

But this is real. 

The crimson soaking your hands, wrist and vest is proof of it. Your whimpers are more stacked evidence, layering their pitches on top of one another to create a sound that grates—that he’ll never be able to rid. 

It makes his mask cling to his mouth, all claggy and tight—claustrophobic. Worsening as the seconds drag into a full minute. 

He knows you’ve lost too much. Ghost doing the maths while Simon begins preparing himself, knowing if he doesn’t move, you’ll be gone, lost to fate and bad choices—ripped from his hands. 

Then your eyes find him. 

Even in desperation—you dig your metaphorical heels into staying awake, present and alive. Your eyes are full of fire, of fight. Beckoning him, willing him to move closer. It awakens him, kicking the battle instincts in, forcing him over. 

He knows if you succumb, you’ll leave a crack in him.

Steal and rip a shred of him, a part which isn’t even truly whole, but whole enough. The thought slides around his emotional instincts, the ones swirling. The ones which are so deeply ingrained inside of him, that he’ll do damage to himself if he tries to unweave them. You did that. Threaded yourself throughout him, clinging to scars—both figurative and literal—holding him up, and wrapping around his organs. 

You don’t know it. He’s never told you. Never planned on telling you that.

Now, he wants to spit it at you. Clutch you by the straps of your best and burn you with it. Just like you’d burnt him. 

Instead, he takes your hand, watching you watching him. Almost poetic, haunting—sharing a conversation with no spoken words as he grips your fingers tighter. A gesture, a motion. 

“I need to look.”

His gloved hand smothers it, feeling it sticky with red, as the other tilts your chin—watching as your eyes go heavy, struggling to fix on him. Memories of moments he’s imagined, where he touches you like this, but you’re not swimming in cherry-red.

Memories that cloud reality, forcing him to blink them away—finding less glimmer, less shine greeting him as your eyes try to go dull. 

He stares all the same, hoping with enough sheer determination he can will you to make a noise or stare more purposefully. 

“You hear me…?”

It’s brief, but there’s a nod. 

And, while his eyes didn’t need to see it to know it was bad—it is bad. Placing your hand back, wishing to wrench his glove free and feel your warmth against his skin. Just once. Having carried you in his chest for so long, and to not know how soft you feel—to only imagine.  

“G-Ghost…”

“I know.”

He feels it between his thumb and middle finger, the sob which rears its head past your lips. Slowly sliding a hand down your side until he’s tilting you, shifting you—his ears tuning into a groan that morphs into a scream. It ricochets around his skull, and vibrates through and around his cranial nerves, until all he can taste is your pain. 

Through and through. 

It’s something, but not everything. 

Slowly tilting you back, resting you in the place you’ve found comfort in—letting his eyes stare over the rest of you. He takes in the swelling in your face, how your helmet is gone—hair in disarray. He notices how your foot is twisted, the boot likely keeping everything in place for now. Ghost also notices the rest of the blood—the amount which has soaked your lap and thigh, knowing it isn’t yours, but hating the sight of it all the same.

“Listen t’me,” he says gruffly, taking your chin again, watching your lashes flutter all heavy and difficult. “Need t’get you to the safe house. Then can radio for evac.” 

“Can’t… walk…”

He knows. 

Can tell that more than you can. His teeth bite down on the inside of his cheek, staring at you, watching your eyes go from open to fluttering closed. 

“I know, I got you.” 

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yes, sergeant.” 

You mumble something. Low and muffled by the sound of his heartbeat. 

It’s surprising how soft skin is. 

Especially yours. 

He hadn’t noticed initially, too intent on cleaning and suturing—on keeping you alive. Then, when he’d slid you onto your back, his palm had brushed over your cheek. 

Now, he waits. His mask and gloves gone, thrown on the counter, just waiting for the next time you manage to open your eyes. Not that he’ll put them back on. 

If he gets the chance to watch you wake, he wants you to see him—all of him. The scars which litter his face. The shit cut he’d tried to give himself—the myriad of shades that make up his lashes and hair colour. 

Simon missed your voice. Something he wouldn’t ever admit, even under duress. 

He hadn’t known a lot until he thought he’d almost lost it all. Not that he’s out of the woods. The smile you send him, the smirk—the light, playful jabs and understanding nods. Mostly, he missed how you felt like a comfort, when he didn’t understand what comfort was. 

It had pelted him the moment you had stopped talking to him. Bludgeoned him somewhere between the first mile and the second. He’d tried to ignore how you’d gone limp, how your head rolled back against the crease of his bicep and shoulder. Focusing instead on imagining you’re simply asleep—tired and bored. 

If not for your chest rising and falling, he’d have lost it. 

But it kept him sane. The slow rise which stuttered before it fell. 

Truthfully, he had suspected you’d have passed out earlier, when he first moved you. It was your surprising determination that made you hold on, murmuring nonsense he couldn’t understand. When weak fingers tried to grip his vest when he pulled you close to him. 

Talk. Blink. Do something. 

You’d tapped, twice. 

Eyes slowly unfurled from being clenched, fingers sliding to the chin of his mask. Tapping again. 

You good? P-Pain.

And he knew. Could only imagine how much. 

It broke him a little bit, that one word on the puff of breath you’d struggled to find. It made him ache and wish all over again—that he’d never split up from you, that he’d been quicker, that he’d realised sooner that his side was empty and that they were all drawn to you. 

His wrist still throbbed from puncturing necks. Not wanting to shoot, to make them panic—make them reckless and stick bullets in you. But they’d stuck one in, all the same—the fucking cowards. 

The last soul he had in his grip when he found you, wouldn’t be recognisable. His knuckles are proof of that—feeling them bruising.

It’s in the final mile to the safe house does he realise he’s not any better. 

He’s a coward, afraid. 

Because your eyes had held his, shining brighter than the sun as you leaned against the mountainside. You looked like you always did—good enough to kiss. Feeling the gravitation to you, the notable pull. It would have been easier to close the gap, to slide his mask up than spend the energy he did on keeping away. 

He did, though. 

Just like he hadn’t at the last set of drinks when your lips were wet with beer and you’d smiled at him like he was the only person in the place. He wasn’t—not by a long shot—but you made him feel like it. A sensation so rare it made his body warm up several degrees. 

There had been plenty of chances, plenty he thinks you’d have reciprocated. 

Just like when he pulled you to his chest, a horrid moan leaving your throat as your hand gripped your wound—fingers weakly trying to find his neck. He could feel it, the silent plea—the last-wish you wanted to express, because you thought you’d never get the chance again. Fear and love concocting in a potion which stung the edges of his eyes and made you cling on. 

But, you lived. He’d got you here. Used the knowledge he had of combat medical care to do enough to get you stable. To keep you with him. 

To watch your eyes now flutter and blink. A whisper and a groan sliding from your tongue, sounding like ‘Ghost’—but he couldn’t be sure. 

Convinced it was a trick of the mind. A hopeful wish. 

He knelt against the floorboards, making them groan, finding your eyes half-open, panic and something else twisting across your jaw and mouth. 

“You’re okay—we’re at the safe house.” 

“Hurts… really h-urts.” 

He slides his fingers through yours, feeling it again—soft skin, your soft skin. 

It’s quiet. You’re quiet. Eyes finding him, carving over each element of his maskless face. He swears he sees you smile—brief and quickly vanished, but there for a second. 

It’s all falling down. 

His walls keep you safe. His shields keep you out. All of it being placed down the longer he holds your hand—the longer his knee presses against your thigh on the floor. The more he spends staring into your eyes. Slowly unravelling until he’s left with feelings and regret. 

“W-w—“

“Don’t… don’t talk, alright? It’ll be soon. Real soon. Hold on for me.”

Hold on to me. 

You nod. Brief and direct—the image of the perfect soldier. His eyes fall to your wound, to the bandage that is already stained. He notices the smears, the dried markings across your abdomen left by his poor cleaning. 

It had stained his fingers too, his forearms. He’d tried to clean it from his skin, tried to rid your blood from his own—but you’d clung to him as desperately as you were currently doing so to life. 

He blinked, staring back up to your face, finding your eyes closed and breaths minimal. No gasping, no wincing—but low, short breaths. 

“You still wit’ me?” 

Silence. 

Nothing. 

Yet, your fingers remained wrapped in his.

He’s told you’ll make it when you’re wheeled from his view. The news you had arrived to him from Johnny’s tongue. 

He says nothing, making the sergeant's face scrunch when he doesn’t react—offering a nod, turning back to the report. Dismissing him. Needing solitude and thick discomfort. 

Time ticks, the hands of the clock loud and annoying. They tick until they tock, they tock until they tick—and then he throws the pen. Hearing it crack, splinter into shards of plastic in the corner. 

He tastes it again—your pain. It haunts him, lingering in the back of his throat—a concoction of iron and something bitter. Knowing, deep down, there’s little to rid it. 

But, he pulls open the bottom drawer of his desk—pulling out two glasses and a bottle filled with amber. The light catches it, shining through the murky contents, until it gleams when he pours one out.

Ghost ensures the other glass remains an ornament, a reminder. 

What’s this? A gift. Usually to make someone happy.  Why? Because people do that sometimes. Plus, last time you made me drink out a mug.  This doesn’t change ‘nything. ‘Course it doesn’t, Riley. Why would it?

He drains his glass. Letting it burn his oesophagus and light a fire in his lungs. The taste clings, sticking itself into his throat—merging with the taste he’s come to know as hell. 

When we’re back from this next mission, you’re gonna pour me one into one of your new glasses and you’re gonna say, ‘you did good’. Y’sure of that? Positive.   

He stares at the empty glass. The one untouched and left without the gleam of amber. 

If the news had been different, he’s not sure it would be intact. Whether he’d be intact. If there would be as many shards of glass as there is plastic. Whether there’d be pieces of him across his office floor, mask in tatters, soul in shambles. 

Something having pulsed and unfurled, slowly coming undone in the Heli back to base. A confirmation, acknowledgement, that something you-shaped had woven in passed his walls. 

You didn’t belong there, but he’d done very little to rid you from him. Liking you there—likely having you. 

People assumed very little terrified him, when in fact it was normality that filled him with fear. The idea of wanting and having. Ideas of Sunday mornings and bags of chips at the beach. 

You especially made him weak at the knees—a threat that could be exploited if anyone were to put the pieces together. How you made his heart stutter, and blood rush to places it shouldn’t—filling his head with the possibilities of looking at stars and waking up for sunrises. 

He pours another glass and drowns it. Shoving the bottle away before he considers a third. 

And then he waits an hour to visit. 

Secretly, he hopes to find you asleep, resting. Able to sit in silence and listen to breathing that isn’t struggled or desperate.

Ghost isn’t sure he has words to say or honesty to share—his body tired, mind frayed. Both running on fumes as the adrenaline and worries had slowly worn off. 

Of course, he finds you not asleep. 

If anything, Ghost is sure you’re going against all medical advice by sitting up. Your eyes land on him immediately, almost widening and warming as you take him in. As though you’d been hopefully expecting him. 

You shift, pulling the blanket up a little higher—smoothing it out across your stomach as if trying to hide what he’s already seen. What is already memorised, difficult to rid. 

In the bed, you look small when he’s so used to seeing you mighty. While you appear frail, he still bets you’d try to take down most soldiers. Your unwillingness to bend is the first thing he noticed in you. Your sheer determination is the second.  

Walking to your bedside, his heart lurches when you wince, even if you’re quick to reach for him, beckoning him closer as he moves on demand. 

The chair lightly protests as he sinks into it, the small metal legs desperate to give out under his size as he slides his hand free from his glove. Just like in the cabin. 

This time he receives a smile. Soft and sweet—almost delicate. One you give so easily, and always to him when battle and war isn’t in your sight. 

He knows it isn’t easy, not right now. Knows how much strength it’s taking just to stay awake, to sit up in the way you are, to speak and smile. 

But you’re safe. Breathing. Alive.  

Something blooming inside of him in place usually covered in shadows and demise. Your fingers tighten around his, tilting your head as he surveys—taking in the curve of your cheeks and the bow of your lips. And you feel safe and dangerous all at once. A puzzle, one he wants to commit to his mind and only pretend to undo, because he likes you mysterious. 

He likes knowing the things he does, and knowing he’ll learn more if you stick around. 

“I’m okay.” 

He swallows, shifting the lump which had formed back in the sand. The one that had grown hour by hour, which had been accelerated by stained red and silence. Only now shrinking as you gripped him as tight as you were able to. 

You nod, as if you can read his thoughts—as if there’s a transcript being read to you. Then you repeat those two words again, allowing them to slide through his ears. 

“I’m—“

“You’re okay,” he repeats, low, just for you. 

The silence, more comfortable than before, blankets the two of you. The soft beep of the machine behind you, the idle drip of saline. 

It’s so quiet it allows his thoughts to spin. To begin to run around a wheel as they spin a mixture of poison, truth and gold. 

You squeeze his hand, firmer than he’s felt since he first did it. 

And he lets it fall from his tongue, let it kiss your ears as he drops his masked chin to his chest. “‘m glad you’re alive.”

He feels heavy, even if it’s a partial confession. Feels more begin to weigh on him, regret washing with doubts until they spin and spin—

“Good,” you whisper. 

Words forcing his head up, finding yours already on him. Desperately slicing through his walls, past his mask until you drown in his soul. 

He lets you. Has done for a while. Let’s you bask in prolonged eye contact and bathe what could be. But, it’s the first time he sinks into the waters himself. 

Licking your lips, dragging the tip over your split and cracked skin. “Won’t be mad that I plan on sticking around to bother you some more then?” 

“No. Don’t mind at all.” 

You shift, wiggling further away as you tug him. It’s weak, barely enough to move his wrist, never mind his body. But, he shifts from the seat all the same, allowing you to think you’re dragging him beside you on the bed. 

It’s tight. It’s not made for two people, never mind him being one of them. Yet, he tries to lie beside you—cautious of your ankle, your hip. He finds the scent of army soap greeting him from your hair and an elbow close to his ribs.

It’s not until you both stop moving, does he realise your hand is in his. Palm pressed against palm. Fingers tightening around him. 

Then, your head lies against his shoulder. Similar to when he’d carried you when you’d been closer to death than alive. Now, it’s the other way—a funny callback, a reminder of the difference a day makes. 

“Did I do good?” 

He tenses, turning his head slowly as he finds you half-smirking. 

“You almost fuckin’ died.” 

“Almost is important in that sentence.” 

He says nothing. Cupping your fingers closer as he tightens the hold, almost wanting to feel your pulse through your fingers—even if he can feel your breath dancing over his mask.

“You know what I’d like?” 

He grunts, feeling you snort at the sound of it. “Here w’fuckin’ go.”

You nudge him. Barely a poke, barely a sharp pinch. But he smiles. In his half-smile-way, he feels himself do when he's with you.

Something which is usually hidden by his mask. Now on full display.

“When my lips are better… I’d like you to kiss me.”

He flips his eyes open, not daring to move, unsure if you can hear how his heart thunders or whether it’s in his head. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

You nod. Brief and direct—just like a well-taught fucking soldier. 

He lets your head find that spot again, the crease of his shoulder as you take a deeper breath. Knowing, on the surface, he’s not felt the way he does about someone that isn’t you, keeping hold of your hand, sliding his thumb over your skin. 

Your soft skin. 

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod ghost x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #ghost angst #ghost x you #ghost riley #ghost call of duty

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Stuck (Mahito x Reader)

Contains: Rape, stuck in a wall, piv sex, body horror, multiple limbs.

Yo long time no see Mahito x reader fans, I admit sometimes I get far too excited to write him with Kenjaku I forget that he needs his own spotlight sometimes too. Going through some weird things irl as well so it was nice to be able to let out some of my feelings with this one, hopefully its enjoyable! Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twitter at kenjakusbrain! Comment or rb if you like or have any thoughts <3

You regretted the split second detour as soon as you made it to the end of the dark alleyway. It was late and you didn’t normally take this way home, how were you supposed to know the alley was a dead end? A large man had been following you ever since you left the movie theater. You’d been foolish enough to try and tell him to leave you alone, which had only egged him on further. 

In an attempt to get away, you ducked into an alley. Quickly running to the end of it, before you realized it was a brick wall. It was far too tall for you to climb, especially with nothing to stand on, but you could see some light shining through from a hole about waist height. It was definitely too small to fit through, but as you heard heavy footsteps in the darkness behind you, you pushed away those thoughts.

Forcing your arm and head through the hole, you violently clawed at anything on the other side for leverage. Hand finding what you imagined to be a dumpster handle, you forced your other arm through, ignoring a crack in your shoulder. You could deal with a dislocated shoulder later.

Pain rushed through your body but it was drowned out by the adrenaline. You continued to force your body through the tight hole. Only pausing when you heard the man behind you begin to speak, words almost unintelligible, but it definitely sounded like he was arguing with someone. Perhaps someone was around to save you after all. Regardless, you still wanted to get out.

Half of you had made it through, your arms and head on one side, hips and legs on the other. Not much further to go, you thought as you attempted to get your hips to fit. 

They wouldn’t budge. 

Frantically you tried to force your way through, clawing and kicking to move your body forward, but nothing seemed to work.

The sound of flesh hitting pavement pulled your attention from trying to free yourself. A soft giggle sounded behind you, definitely not from the man who’d been pursuing you. Had you been saved?

“Hello?” You called out, unsure if you would even receive an answer.

The only response you received was a hand resting on the small of your back. Even though the gesture was not violent, it still startled you. You kicked back reflexively, but before your foot made contact with anyone, it was caught. The feeling of your leg being lifted into the air made you panic further, you could feel the material of your skirt bunching up around your hips.

“Why are you trying to go through the wall? Is that some silly human game?” A soft voice asked from behind you. He wasn’t quiet, but the intonation of the questions sounded curious, like a child asking why about some mundane thing they just didn’t understand yet.

You tried to get control of your leg back, but you could feel the hands wrapped around your ankle were strong. It didn’t make sense to you that this person could have dispatched the man that was following you and still be confused about why you were stuck like this. And what did he mean by ‘human’?

“That person was chasing me, he isn’t still there is he? It sounded like he got knocked out. I’m stuck now. Can you please help me out?” Your words ran together as you frantically tried to explain and ask questions at the same time. It should have been obvious that you were trying to escape. 

Another soft laugh echoed off the walls around you. It made your skin crawl, something had seemed off ever since you started interacting with this mystery person, even if they did save you, there was something definitely wrong with this.

“The big man? Oh you don’t need to worry about him at all, he’s in my pocket now and can’t hurt you. I could get you unstuck really easily, but it might make you sweat more than it sounds like you already are,” The man said, his words only making the situation more confusing. Nothing that he said reassured you at all, neither did the second set of hands picking up your other leg.

Even if you had been talking to only one person, the hands on your other leg made your guts twist with anxiety. Maybe you hit your head and all of this was a strange nightmare that your mind had cooked up?

You opened your mouth to ask a question, but the words were cut off by a scream as your legs were spread fully, exposing you to the person, or people, behind you. 

Before you even had the chance to beg for help or call out to maybe urge someone closer, you felt the wall you were stuck in tremble as if it had been struck by something heavy. Much to your surprise, a hand came from behind you, wrapping around your lips. 

You could make out enough of the arm in the dark to know that it was freakishly long, even ignoring the fact that it had come through the wall. The fact that you could see the elbow in front of you made your mind hazy, no wonder the thing had referred to you as a human, because he couldn’t be! Even if the fingers felt human and the skin looked normal, it had to be twice the length of a human arm or more, not to mention the strange stitch like markings covering the skin. 

“Geto said I need to get better at working with humans so he can try making more cursed womb paintings and you’re in the perfect position to practice. I hope you don’t mind that I want to get some practice alone, he says I’m usually too sensitive and finish too quickly,” The man, monster, whatever was behind you said. None of the words made sense to you other than being in a position to practice. 

This is what you had been trying to escape in fitting yourself in this hole, and yet you’d only gotten yourself into an even worse situation. Maybe if you were lucky the person would put you out of your misery after. 

Now that you were sure that it was just one person behind you, the feeling of another hand reaching out to rip your panties off of you was more frightening. There were far too many hands involved for this to be anything other than a monster. 

“Wow! You’re already so slick down here! Geto said humans only get like this when they’re excited, so maybe you like this more than it seems!” His excited words made you cringe internally. You mentally cursed whoever this ‘Geto’ he was referring to was.

The fingers that had ripped your panties now slid between your soaked folds easily. You didn’t know why you were so wet but you hated yourself for it. The tips of his fingers stroking against your clit made a spike of pleasure cut through the fear and anxiety filling you. 

He didn’t waste time teasing you for long, though. The fingers traced up, slipping around your entrance for just a second before they were replaced by the blunt head of the man’s cock. You squirmed in an attempt to get away, but you already knew the movement would do nothing for you. 

It didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated when he pressed himself into you. His size must have been below average as it barely felt like he was sticking two fingers inside. A dark moment of reprieve filled you, it could always be worse, you thought. The ache in your thighs hurt more than the stretch in your pussy as he started to slowly thrust.

Relief only lasted for a moment however, as you suddenly felt something else inside of you. It was as if with each thrust inside of you his cock grew in size. Different than if he were just getting harder. Somehow it was as if he could change his shape at will, the stretch that hadn’t bothered you before was now burning as he pressed his large, throbbing cock inside you.

Suddenly, you could feel everything, every vein on his cock filling you up so completely that you thought you’d burst. Another scream threatened to escape, but the hand on your lips kept any sound from getting out. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as his thrusting continued. 

You could barely make out the sound of whiny moaning through the wall. It seemed like you weren’t the only one that was feeling more than they had expected from this. The hands on each of your legs were squeezing tighter with every thrust, your feet had started to feel almost numb. You could only hope the numb feeling would spread.

The monster’s thrusts were hard to anticipate, it was like he was moving on instinct without any rhythm or method to the way he fucked into you. It was hard to anticipate when the next thrust would come as his hips changed pace constantly. One thrust was hard and deep, the next shallow and slow. 

It was clear he was chasing only his pleasure. 

Tears slid down your cheeks as he continued fucking you, you hated how good it felt when the thrusts weren’t too hard. Being so full did hurt, but whenever the thrusts slowed down it almost felt perfect. The slow drag of his thick cock, if this were any other situation, you were sure that you would be screaming in pleasure instead.

It wasn’t long before his thrusts became even more inconsistent, as if he were losing control. His whining moans sounded even more desperate. Only a few more deep thrusts before he pressed himself all the way into you, filling you to the brim before releasing deep inside of you. 

You were stuffed so full you could feel each spurt of his cum inside you, and even feel it leaking out of your body around his cock.

He pulled out quickly, dropping your legs as he moved. The hand that covered your mouth patted your cheek before being pulled back through the hole. Before you could even think to say anything, you heard a noise from above you. Craning your neck you watched a normal looking man jump down in front of you.

As he turned to face you, you noted the stitches on his face matching the ones on the strange arm that had held your mouth closed. Only, he looked normal, his arms were proportionate, everything about him was like that of a normal human, including the two arms with only two hands despite how many hands you had felt.

The stress of the night had finally become too much for you, as he leaned in to say something, you felt your consciousness leave you.

#mahito #jjk x reader #mahito x reader #mahito smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[rosepascal]

Can't Break A Promise | Joel Miller x Reader

summary: of course the one patrol you're on without Joel is the one that lands you with a knife in your side.

warnings: graphic content, mentions of blood, stab wounds, fixing a wound, getting stabbed, lots of swearing.

a/n: I love love love fics where one person gets hurt and it scares the other person so here's my addition to this trope <33

Joel was going to kill you for sure this time. He always went on patrol with you. Always. He told Tommy that he didn't give a shit if he disrupted any damn schedule, he was going with you.

But he got hurt on the last one and he was benched. Which he absolutely despised.

He knew you were capable but that didn't stop him from wanting to protect you. So you promised him that you'd be careful. That you'd come back. It was a simple boarder patrol, no more than an hour or two and you were going to be with Tommy.

Of course the one patrol you didn't have Joel, is the one where a few asshole raiders decided to test their luck. They were easy to take down, couple of kids who could barely wield a knife. But they caught you off guard and drove a knife into your side.

"Fuck!" You hiss as you fall against a nearby tree.

You see the handle of the blade sticking out from your side and a wave of nausea overcomes you.

"Shit." Tommy rushes to your side, moving his hand to take out the knife but you stop him.

"If you pull it out, I'll bleed out before we get back." You groan as you push yourself off the tree.

He knows you're right and Tommy puts your arm around his shoulder and you start the trek back to Jackson. It felt like years. Every step shifts the blade a little forcing a whimper from your lips.

The snow runs red under you, your body on fire even as the wind starts to pick up. The wooden gates of Jackson makes you cry out in relief. It's through sheer willpower that you've managed to make it this far.

The only thing on your mind being getting back to Joel. You promised that you'd be okay and you weren't planning on breaking that.

"Almost there." Tommy says before shouting for help. You silently prayed that Joel couldn't hear them.

"Don't tell Joel please." You beg to Tommy as you see some people hurry towards you.

"Please.." Tommy's grip slips and you fall to your knees in the snow.

You feel yourself being lifted up and your head feels like its floating. The hard surface of a table hits your back and the sounds of peoples worried voice go in and out of your ears.

"I'm sorry but this is gonna hurt." Tommy grabs your hand and lets you squeeze it as someone pulls the knife from your side.

Your scream echoes through the room and you make a note to apologize to Tommy and everyone in this room after this is all over.

"Fuck!" Tears stream down your face as they pour a disinfectant into your wound. Slowly your world around you starts to fade as the pain begins to lessen.

"S'okay, you're gonna be okay." Is all you hear before the world goes black.

- - -

The darkness is sweet, comforting. No pain, nothing can hurt you. But your eyes open anyways. The first thing you notice is how comfortable the bed is beneath you and how much pain you're in. Your body screams in pain as you try and sit up.

"Don't move." A low voice says from the corner of the room. Shutting your eyes you let out a sigh, you know that voice from anywhere.

"Joel."

"Not another word." He's angry. His voice shakes as he gets up from where he was waiting.

"I waited for you to come home. Sat right here like I promised and waited." You shrink back gripping the thin blanket that you recognized as Joel's. You don't even try to interrupt him.

"I heard nothing from no one. Until my brother came back. Covered in your fuckin' blood." His eyes shine with tears as he sits on the bed beside you.

"I'm sorry Joel." You cry softly. The last thing you wanted was to make him worry.

"They came out of nowhere and I-" You're cut off by his strong arms wrapping themselves around you.

You bury your face into his shoulder, ignoring the pain growing in your side.

"I promised I'd come home." You say and he squeezes you a little tighter.

"I know baby." He won't tell you how terrified he truly was.

Watching the sun go down and you were no where to be found. Pacing back and forth as he waited for that door to open. The way his heart stopped when Tommy came walking in with his arms covered in blood. The apologies that he didn't hear as his brain went to the worst possible outcome. He couldn't lose you.

Nothing could stop him when he stormed over to the medics house. His stomach turning as he notices the blood stains on the floor. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful.

But nothing was more beautiful than seeing the steady rise and fall of your chest. You were alive. He carried you all the way back home and sat and waited. He couldn't sleep. So he just sat there.

"I kept thinking of you," You pull back and cup his face.

"I wouldn't break my promise." He gently shushes you as your breathing starts to pick up. Joel's lost so many people and you almost became one of them.

"Don't work yourself up, you'll rip out your stitching." He helps you lay back, putting a pillow behind your head for comfort.

"Stay with me?" You ask with pleading eyes.

"I don't plan on letting you outta my sight." He says as gets comfortable next to you.

Despite your protests he won't lay down. But he'll sit and watch over you. You know there's nothing you need to be protected from here but you let him anyways.

"Sleep tight baby, I'll be here. I promise."

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction

[romanreignseater]

Feet Kicker.

Roman Reigns x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Oral really… (Female receiving of course).

“Who knew such a big and grown ass man would moan and kick his feet in the air while eating his wife out?!”

A/N: I saw a quote on TikTok about this and I just pictured Roman 😭.

GIF: @romanreigns

What a man, what a man, what a man

What a mighty good man

Gotta say it again now

What a man, what a man, what a man

What a mighty good man

He's a mighty mighty good man

What a man, what a man, what a man

What a mighty good man

Yes he is

That’s what many could say about the Tribal Chief, the Head of The Table, Roman Reigns. Yet, here he was… on his hands and knees removing your shoes, kissing your legs and feet. Nearly whimpering like a little baby.

Gulping as he looked up to realize panties were nowhere to be found on your body. Just your glistening cunt shining for him and him only.

“Why so nervous?!” You smiled sweetly down at your man. His eyes quickly dart back down to your feet, avoiding all eye contact at all costs. (And typically he was a boss at this of course).

If the world knew how much of a whimpering little man Roman could be, it’ll probably stop. “Lemme take my dress off while you handle yourself right there.” Roman laid on his knees in silence with his head and hands grasping at his knees.

Your whistle drew his thoughts back up, to only see you completely nude. “I can guess by your silence that you like what you see… per usual of course.” Your shoulders raised in confidence as your tantalizing ass was facing him.

You crawled onto the slowly with your dribbling cunt smushed between your thighs for Roman’s viewing pleasure. You shaked your ass slightly, giving him even more of a show.

You rested your head gently onto the pillow then flipping yourself over and spreading your legs to show the goods.

Your essence coated your inner thighs and you bent your knees to near your white toes by your pussy, knowing how much Roman adored your cunt and perfectly manicured feet. But, sitting there in a picture perfect manner arose something in him to man up and commence his ministrations.

He rose from the ground and onto the bed almost like a lion observing their prey. He then lays on the bed, flat on his stomach and hands pressed against your thighs spreading them even further.

He nearly drooled which made you giggle at his sheer fascination of your pussy. His large thumbs spread at your cunt, observing all of its pink prettiness and wet slick. As he treaded closer, he could feel the warmth of your cunt.

You placed your hands on his which then made him look up at you. “Are you gonna start of what?! She’s been waiting for a little bit.” Pointing down at your desperate bundle of nerves.

He chuckled, blushing slightly and bashful my put his head down. He soon placed heated kisses across both planes of your thighs. His hot breath brushed across your cunt, leaving you to shiver slightly.

Roman’s whole mouth then goes to cover the entirety of your pussy lips, immediately coating them in a base of his saliva. His tongue trailed in between your lips into the sweet middle your cunt.

The teasing of your clit led your hands straight to his luxurious locks. “Mmmmm right there baby.” Roman lifted his head to admire your blissful face. He hummed, averting his eyes back to your convulsing pussy.

His blistering thumb stroked the mess he made so nastily and he dove back into your waters. Looking up from the ceiling you notice his knees were bent and his feet were raised to the sky. Feet crossed and legs swinging back and forth.

Was he actually swinging his feet while eating you out?! His head began swaying back and forth as well. He must have really been good time doing this you thought to yourself.

“Are yo-u having a good time there?!” He raised his head to show you a wet beard and a big grin. “Always baby.”

“Go ahead and continue then.” He happily did and you were soon reaching your peak. He slid his middle finger into your warm and tight vagina fingering you ever so gracefully. His lips spread across your clit, making out with it in such a dirty manner.

He hummed once more and the vibrations of his humming made every part of your pussy tingle from top to bottom. Making your toes curl and his name flowing from your lips endlessly.

“I’m gonna cum Daddy.” It started to become too much, both you and Roman began whimpering at the top of your lungs. Your eyes closed and you curled up to Roman, clutching at his hair. Opening your eyes to then see his eyes peering up, his tongue swiping at every crevice he could get at. His eyes signaled you to cum.

Your back fell to the mattress and you screamed his name as he made you come undone. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” Is all you could say as he continued to coax you through you orgasm. His lips and finger were wept away from your cunt as he admired your it pulsing.

His feet never ceased from swinging with his lips covered in his saliva and your essence. “Was this really fun for you?!”

“Of course it was mama.”

Ohh… couldn’t you tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

Thanks for reading everyone 💝💝💋!! Kind of short, but I’ll hope you love it. (Jimmy fic coming soon 😝).

MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harmshake @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @angelreigns444

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns one shot

[st4rgzer]

something stupid (matt sturniolo)

summary: fic based on the song "something stupid" by Frank Sinatra!!

genre: fluff

cw!: swearing, kissing

a/n: i’ve been having a rough week so far and i just haven’t been writing much, i hope you enjoy this<3

"and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, i love you"

The soft gleam of candles illuminates entirely the small bar, accentuating his features, softening them at the same time. You feel entranced, dazed as both of you exchange the same lovesick look, infatuated by one another.

You break the moment, clearing your throat, instantly regretting it, cursing your awkwardness for getting in the way of you both.

"um…we should get going, right?" You coughed, looking away timidly. It seems that the moment things start getting serious, real, you sabotage your happiness, it happened more than often.

Matt looks slightly confused, but he’s still gripping onto the small moment shared a few seconds ago, he smiles to himself.

"yeah, it is getting late" He checks the time, sighing, not wanting this date to come to an end, cursing time for going so quickly. He still wanted to hang on to any more time he could share alongside you.

"would you want to maybe get some ice cream?" He makes up on the spot, stumbling over his words slightly, trying to disguise his eager nervousness with a grin, making him seem cocky, even if you could see right through him.

"sure! should we- should we go now?" you cringed over your stupid question, trying not to seem to eager to expand the time together.

He smiled in relief. You grabbed your jacket and pushed your chair in. The check had already been paid, by a very insistent Matt, of course.

Both of you exited the restaurant, exchanging shy smiles. Matt interlocked hands with you, nervously, trying not to seem very forward.

The bright neon ice cream shop sign contrasted with the darkness of the night, easily distinguishable. You ordered a cherry cone and Matt, vanilla and chocolate swirl.

You and Matt stayed in silence for a while, taking in the admirable view of the stars, that were especially beautiful that night, maybe it was just you but, they shined particularly brighter.

"do you like the ice cream?" Matt asked, furrowing his brows at the stupid attempt to break the silence, wishing now that he had said something better.

"yes! do you wanna try?, here, it’s really really good" You smiled, offering your cone to him, he handed you his cone in exchange.

His face scrunched up in disgust, quickly trying to hide it from you.

"its- really good!…" He sounded very unconvincing, you burst out laughing at him trying to convince you that he actually liked it, which was oddly sweet, you admired his efforts.

"how do you not like it?!" you said between laughs, looking at him in shock, a smile wide on your face, same as him.

"i- guess i don’t like cherry?" he smiled, laughing as well, a pink tint coming up to his cheeks, he thanked the darkness right now.

"well i don’t like your vanilla-chocolate swirl" You said defiantly, handing him back his cone, he laughed, shaking his head at your childish remarks.

Time passed, and both of your ice creams were in the trash. You tucked your hands in your pockets, the wind picking up slightly.

In this moment, the both of you were stood in the middle of a vacant street, the shine of the lamp post taking you back to the bar, remembering how much you loved seeing this in this lighting.

Your perfume infatuated him, in the right way. It made him want to be closer to you. There was such a subtle breeze, swerving his hair to the side slightly.

"i love you" He blurts out, widening his eyes at the realization to what he had said.

"i-" You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, still processing the sentence in your head.

"shit- sorry, i- i didn’t think before saying, fuck- i’m sorry for spoiling this, i-" He tried to redeem himself, an evident sorry look on his face.

Instead of saying anything, you closed the little space in between you, lacing your lips together, softly. He slowly eased into the kiss, cupping your cheeks with his hands, pressing closer- if that was even possible. You both pulled apart to breathe, Matt looked at you, his mouth slightly agape, enamored.

"I love you too, stupid" You laughed, softly uttering the words, gently stroking his cheek, running your finger over the light stubble of his jaw.

A weight fell off his shoulders, relieved that you weren’t taken back, terrified of the thought of scaring you off.

Your arms draped over his shoulders, and placed a small kiss on his cheek, making the grin on his face all the more wider. He had forgotten about the time, that being the least of his worries. He could die happily right now.

Then of course, it was spoiled, Matts phone rang, making you jolt slightly.

"im going to kill Nick." He sighed, already missing the feeling of your arms on him, knowing the night was coming to an end.

You smile to yourself, grateful for Matt’s stupidity, "i love you" was the perfect thing to say, even if it didn’t seem like it.

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @gabbylovesreading @iha8you @slaysturniolo @strnlsblog @ssturniolo @stvrni0lo @sturniololoverr

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo image #matt sturniolo fluff

[bedoballoons]

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿Lyney X Reader!⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Teasing=Pleasing~༺}

CW: NSFW! Minors DNI!! Top Fem reader! Bottom Lyney!, Strap on used, punishments, Name calling (slut and good boy), Spanking, being rough, and just overall Lyney being a tease and you messing him up in return! Enjoy~

Requests/asks open <3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Couldn't wait any longer, could you?" Lyney smiled mischievously at you, his eyes shining with that all knowing look that drove you mad and of course he wasn't wrong, through out the entire show your eyes were focused on him more than his magic tricks...the way his corset clung to his small figure with every movement, how the garter belts on his thighs were tighter than usual...squeezing his skin just the littlest bit. By the end you were rubbing your thighs together in anticipation, your mind racing with ideas of him.

"Hush..." You hissed into his ear, pushing him backwards onto the bed and slowly trailing your hands up his clothed body, watching as he shivered just from your touch alone, before leaning down to capture his lips in a deep kiss. Your tongue searching his mouth as he gasped for breath that you simply couldn't let him have, biting his bottom lip whenever he attempted to pull away, when you eventually did allow him to catch a breath his lips were bright red and puffy, just the way you liked them.

Before he could react you flipped him over, pulling the zipper of his outfit down so painfully slow, your eyes trained on his back while the fabrics pulled away...gosh he was so beautiful, you could barely contain yourself. "See something you like~" Lyney giggled, looking back at you as he swayed his hips back and forth, making your wet fold flutter. "Didn't I tell you to hush...seems that deserves a punishment." You kept your voice low, sultry and threatening, seeing the delightful fear that flicked across his features.

"No wait, I didn-ah!!" You caught him mid sentence, bringing the palm of your hand harshly against his ass with a loud smack, the skin of your hand stinging slightly as you pulled his outfit the rest of the way off, sliding his underwear down and smirking at the large red mark you'd left on him. "You just have to be a tease don't you.." You growled quietly, bringing your palm to the bare flesh of his ass, slap. His body shot forward a little as he moaned loudly and you placed you other hand in the crook of his back, pushing down so it arched so perfectly for you. "I-ah! I like teasing yo-u."

"Stay, don't move...or else." You threatened, watching him intently while you took your sweet time to get the strap on ready. "H-hurry..." His voice sounded so whiney and you couldn't help but chuckle at him, "You want me to hurry...very well then.." A evil smile found its way on your lips as you lined the strap on up with his hole, unprepared and so tight just for you, "I'll give you your wish~"

Just like that you thrusted into him, pulling his hands behind his back while you started a unforgiving pace, his body shaking with every harsh snap of your hips. "AH! H-hey t-thaaah! Nghh!" His words got jumbled as his mind turned into a absolute puddle, the strap on hitting him so deep, pain mixed with pleasure making his eyes water and his breathing turned into laboured gasps as you fucked him into his own pillows.

"T-this is what you w-wanted, don't forget." You whispered, thrusting up into him harshly and watching his walls clamp around your strap on just like a good little slut. "A-ahh-nghnghh!!" Lyney slurred, unable to say anything as you pushed his back down even further, his eyes rolling back and his tongue hanging out of his mouth, you could tell he was getting close and as slick trickled down your thighs...so were you.

With one loud smack you slapped his ass, shoving the strap on so deep into him as his pearly white cum coated the sheets of his bed, his voice ringing in your ears as he screamed your name. It was enough to make him see stars, your own orgasm hitting you as you continued to softly thrust into him a couple more times, his body weak beneath you. "Good boy~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day!*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin smut #lyneyhcs #lyney headcanons #lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney smut #genshin impact lyney #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney #sublyney #bottomlyney

[kentolove]

It’s been six years since he last saw you.

You were much more awkward back then, a shy smile engraved into your face at all times. Now, you sit with poise—an elegance of some sort—and the shy smile is long gone. Your face now tells the story of years apart, of a person Tsukishima is no longer well acquainted with.

He thinks you look beautiful.

You’re smiling bright at him, and although he’s never seen you like this before, he feels a small grin grow on his face.

It takes him back to the last time he saw you, with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I promise I’ll come back,” you cried, leaning into your lovers chest.

You leave for college in a day. You’re heading for California, a land so far away from Tsukishima’s familiar hold.

“Don’t cry,” he consoles, and it’s that firm tone of his. You know he means no harm, but your Tsukishima has never been the best at comfort. He can be tough and rude, but changes in a second when it comes to you.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, and it’s a promise you know is true. He never breaks his promises.

“Don’t…” you start, voice breaking each second. “You might find someone you like. Someone nice in college… maybe they could even be the one—”

“You’re the one for me.”

He’s quick to say it, assured in his tone. No sea, mountain, galaxy, could separate your hearts. No matter how far he is, Tsukishima Kei will always love you.

“You have more muscles now!” You smile at him fondly, reaching over the small coffee table to touch his upper arms.

“Yeah,” he feels shy. Tsukishima Kei feels shy. And it’s all because you’re too dumb to realise that you still have that childhood crush effect on him.

“I started working at the museum,” he starts, looking deep into your eyes as each word falls from his lips. “And I went pro.”

“I saw!” You giggle. You giggle, and Tsukishima’s heart nearly bursts. “I almost bought your jersey online but I thought it might’ve been a bit,” another short laugh, “overkill, I guess.”

He imagines your hesitation and is suddenly taken to the past. When your eyes were larger and filled with innocence; when you asked so kindly if he could lend you his jersey to wear to his game.

“I started writing again,” you say, watching as his eyes sparkle in mild curiosity. “I don’t know if any of the stuff I write is good, but I guess I have you to review them for me now.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “yeah. I’m here.”

He feels as if the small coffee shop is too constricting. He feels suffocated, like he cannot breathe in the same room as you. You shine too bright and he burns from your stare alone.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You suddenly ask, and Tsukishima finds himself agreeing far too quickly. He’s slightly messy as he pays for your shared bill, and you’re anxious to be alone with him yet again.

-

The Tokyo night has never been welcoming.

It is loud, unforgiving, and does not pay mind to anyone on its streets. You somehow find comfort in the forbidding mood.

Tsukishima has always been a part of you.

Whether together or apart, you know your heart has always called for his. When you were so unaware of he wonders of the world, he was all you knew. It felt as if he put the sun in the sky just for you.

The more time you spent apart from him, the more you grew to love him. Maybe distance strengthens love—you’ve never quite known—but distance made you yearn for the man you left.

As he walks beside you, you can’t help but stare at him.

Does he still love you? Did he really wait for you? Is he happier with you? The questions plague your mind, leaving you insecure and alone.

But you don’t want to be insecure. You want for him to love you in the way he once did, hold you like you’re eighteen and in love.

You love him, and you’re no longer the shy person that Tsukishima used to know. You’ve changed, and you take his hand in yours.

It’s rougher than you remember it to be. His hands tell the story of an experienced man, one who dedicated his youth to the things he loved the most.

His eyes, however, speak to you.

You can tell he’s shocked—his eyes have widened and his grip is slightly loose. In the midst of the Tokyo streets, Tsukishima holds your hands for the first time in six years.

“Did you wait for me?” You ask. You dare not look at him, afraid that rejection falls at the tip of his tongue.

“Would I be here if I didn’t wait?” He stops you, bringing your intertwined fingers to his chest. He holds you close, his free hand locked right around your waist.

“I thought you’d move on,” there’s a slight stutter to your voice, unease laced in your tone.

“You’ve always been the one for me.”

He’s confident. He’s assured in his words, and you know. There is nothing that could ever separate you and your Kei.

#mine #a break from all the angst I’ve been putting out 😭 #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima drabbles #tsukishima imagines #tsukishima headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!

[xxchumanixx]

Boots and breakfast pt. 1

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings: secret relationship, angst, unspoken feelings

Word count: 1.314

Authors note: I'm in the mood for some Tim Bradford fics. Planning to make a part two for this!

Enjoy!

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Tim shouted, laughing as he saved his cup of coffee from your hands, holding it out of your reach.

You pouted, now having to make a cup of your own. Though you didn't mind seeing his muscles flex at the movement, his naked upper body shining in the morning light.

It was just recently that he slept over at your place, not wanting to go home after fulfilling his part of your agreement - sex.

You didn't mind, secretly having developed a crush on him, after meeting in private for almost half a year now.

Chuckling to himself he sipped his coffee, watching you as you grabbed a cup from a cupboard, before putting it in the coffeemaker.

As the liquid gold slowly poured into the cup, it's smell filling your nostrils, you smiled.

It was like a contest almost every morning now: whoever was first at the coffeemaker, got the first cup of coffee.

The other had to wait.

Most of the time he won, but you didn't mind, seeing as it made him smile early in the morning, contrasting to his usual grumpyness.

As you were about to take a sip of your freshly brewed coffee, it knocked at your apartments door, making you halt in your movement; the hot steam of your coffee making your eyes water.

Sighing you contemplated if you'd first take a sip, as it knocked again. Groaning you put the cup down, walking towards the door as Tim snickered to himself.

Rolling your eyes you opened the door, instantly regretting not to have looked through the peephole first.

Mouth agape you stared at Lucy, Tim's Boot. If she saw you with her TO, she'd totally freak out. Not to mention you were a rookie as well - which meant your agreement with Tim was strictly forbidden.

"Hey, you left your-" Lucy started, catching a glimpse behind you inside the open living room and kitchen, causing her to stop mid-sentence.

Shoot.

It was too late to block her line of sight, still you tried.

"Your fucking kidding me!" she screeched, causing Tim to turn around to her, only then noticing who you were talking to, as her head peeked around you.

His face lost its colour, as the cup almost unnoticeably trembled in his hand, mouth slightly agape.

Out of instinct you grabbed Lucy and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind her.

"Look-" you started, but she interrupted you. "Your fucking kidding me!" she repeated, gesturing between the both of you.

Sighing you rubbed your temples, not knowing how to explain the situation to her.

"Lucy, I can explain." you told her, eyes flickering towards Tim's still stunned face, before back to her. "Please, don't tell anyone, I beg you! After all I didn't say anything abou-" before you could finish your sentence, she pressed her hand to your mouth, shutting you up.

Tim's brows rose at her reaction, as he finally closed his mouth.

"Since when?" she wanted to know, her brows knitted together. As she noticed that you couldn't answer with her hand above your mouth, she removed it.

"Right." she mumbled, sending you an apologetic look. "Fife months." you quietly gave back, her eyes widening in disbelieve.

Sighing you walked over towards Tim, now needing that cup of coffee more than ever. His eyes followed your movement, before they landed on his trainee.

"Boot, if you-" he started, most likely wanting to threat her, but you held up your hand, successfully shutting him up, as you took a much needed sip.

One of Lucy's brows lifted at his reaction, most likely never going to let him live this moment down.

Tim grumbled something, shaking his head, before he took a sip of his coffee and turned his back towards you, instead looking out of the window.

Shaking your head as well you turned back towards your friend, stepping towards her.

"Listen, Lucy, it is really important that you keep this a secret, I beg you." you explained. "It's nothing serious, we're just - messing around." as you spoke you looked over at Tim, noticing how he flinched at your words.

Your eyes met Lucy's and you knew she saw it as well, as she again rose a brow at you.

It must have been the situation, his Boot knowing about you two screwing around wasn't exactly what he was planning on.

"Please Lucy, please don't tell anyone." you continued, looking at her with pleading eyes. "If you tell them - we'll both lose our jobs. You know that." You mouthed the last part, appealing to her own experiences with John.

Shaking her head she searched for words.

"But I thought you were seeing that other guy- Jensen!" she spoke, clearly confused.

Tim aprubtly turned back around at her words and you gasped, blinking rapidly.

"Jensen?" he wanted to know, trying to sound as casual as possible in this situation. Clearing your throat awkwardly your hands kneaded themselves, before you fully turned around to him.

"That was just a guy I met a few weeks ago. When Lucy started to ask question why I was so tired in the morning, it was easier to tell her that it was him that kept me awake at night instead of her TO." you explained, cheeks reddening slightly.

Tim huffed, as a grin lifted the corner of his mouth at the double meaning of your words.

He did keep you up at night indeed.

Looking back at her Lucy barely held back a laugh. Cocking a brow at her you tilted your head, making her sigh in defeat.

"Okay-" she started and you threw yourself into her arms, cup still in hand, thanking her.

"But-" she continued, as you let go of her. "Only if I get my short sleeves!"

Tim wanted to protest, you heard and saw it, but you looked at him with wide, pleading eyes, causing him to groan in discontent.

"Okay." he gave in, shaking his head as he emptied his coffee.

"Thank goodness." you mumbled, looking at Lucy. "Coffee?" you then offered, but Tim interrupted, before she could have answered.

"Nope!" he said loudly, grabbing your cup from your hands and putting it aside. Huffing, Lucy and you both chuckled.

"We have to get ready!" With that he left the room, stepping into the bedroom to get dressed.

"You sure you're just messing around?' Lucy wanted to know quietly, looking after her TO.

Raising your brows you swallowed, looking at her questioningly, even though you knew what she meant.

She knew that as well.

Tilting her head she looked at you pointedly, causing you to roll your eyes at her curiosity. "Why?" you wanted to know nonetheless, starting to clean the kitchen in an attempt to busy yourself.

"You know exactly why." she retorted, shaking her head slightly. "We both saw how he reacted when you said that it's 'nothing serious'."

Closing your eyes for a moment you bit your tongue. You knew she only meant best, even in a situation like this.

"Do you have feelings for him?" she asked, causing your eyes to go wide. "Wow, Lucy Chen, straight to the point." you mumbled to what she rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious." she insisted, taking a step closer. "Do you?"

Sighing you leaned with your hands on the counter, staring at the granit countertop.

"Even if I do- we made it clear not to get attached." you finally explained to her, your eyes meeting hers.

"So you do have feelings for him." she concluded. Swallowing you nodded.

Before you were able to say more, Tim interrupted you, emerging from the bedroom. "Get ready, we're leaving in five." he told you, before he went to make breakfast to go, as you headed for the bathroom.

Little did you know that he heard every word you said.

#tim bradford x you #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #imagine

[devildomditzy]

Finally, some peace and quiet after such a chaotic day! You practically leap out of your RAD uniform and into some pajamas as the night begins to fall, crashing face first onto your plush bed. It’s warm, with the fuzzy comforter the twins gifted you, and soft, with the various stuffed creatures given to you by the brothers and angels alike. You snuggle in further, allowing the dark tendrils of sleep creep in, beginning to drift off after such a long-

*thunk*

After such a long, agonizing da-

*thunk*

A-After such a long, agoni-

*thunk*

Ignore it and it will go away-

*thunk*

Nope, you’re not moving from this spo-

*thunk*

Ugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have shown him that cheesy romcom from your home realm.

Sighing, you stand up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and making your way over to the room’s large ornate window. Honestly, you should have known he was up to something when he wasn’t attached to your hip on the way home.

Pulling back the curtains, you see Mammon, small stone in hand winding up to take another pot shot at your window. Upon realizing you’ve finally stirred, his face elates, letting the rock in his hand fall to the ground as his eyes shine with anticipation. He’s almost like a puppy, excited to grab your attention.

You pick up the large golden hook from its resting place and lift up, allowing the window panes to be pushed open and outwardly towards the source of your annoyance.

“Yo!”, he smiles widely, self assured that his plan was working.

“What are you doing?”, you question back, wanting to get to the point of this charade and get back to your pillowy slumber.

“What’s it look like I’m doin’! I’m bein’ romantic!”

You snort at his comment. Seems like he’s not gonna beat around the bush this time.

“Uh huh, so you decided to throw rocks at my window…for romance?”

“Nah, that part ‘s just to get yer attention! Now c’mon, we’re sneakin out!”

You give him a quick once over then look back down to yourself, already in your night clothes and ready to pass, quiet frankly, the fuck out.

“You expect me to sneak out looking like this?”

“Course not! But how was I supposed to know you were goin’ to bed already like some loser!”

You feign a hurt expression, bringing a hand up to your chest, “So you’re trying to convince me to sneak out with you by calling me a loser? Well, so much for romance!”, you say, turning up your nose and beginning to close the window back.

“Oi! Hey! No! Don’t ya dare close that window on me!”

“Oh yeah? Or what? You gonna come throw rocks at my door instead? Prrrretty sure Lucifer would loooove that!”

“Argh- Alright! I’m sorry for callin ya a loser, ‘kay? Now would ya please get ready to go? Car’s runnin’ an’ our reservation’s at si-”

He seems to kick himself mentally for letting that last part slip.

“Oh? Reservations you say? Maybe you do know how to be romantic after all~”, you tease as his face gradually turns redder.

“That part…was ‘ppose to be a surprise”, he sighs, cursing himself under his breathe.

You giggle at his flustered state. He could be so cute without realizing it, and the fact that he had put so much effort into this surprise had your heart reeling enough to shake off the rest of your drowsiness.

“Alright, I’m coming. Just, gimme a few minutes to get changed?”, you smile softly at his nervous mannerisms as he runs his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time.

“Make it quick, or I’m leavin’ without ya!”, he bites back with a smirk, confidence seeming to return to him.

You can’t hold back the laugh that comes out at that statement. “Oh please, we both know you wouldn’t dare.”

“An’ we both know you wouldn’t have any fun without me!”

You give a lighthearted scoff and turn back to shut the window.

“O-Oi, what’d ya doin?”, he questions, worry beginning to settle on his face.

“Well you can’t watch me get changed pervert!”, you laugh as the comment makes his stuttering worse.

He quickly glances away from you, finding himself unable to maintain eye contact any longer.

“M-meet me round back in five, got it?!”, he calls out to you before sprinting out of view, presumably to where he’d backed his car out to. “Ya damn nuisance!”

Time spent with Mammon may not be the most relaxing, usually involving you running from Lucifer, or Casino security, or both, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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