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peachesofteal · 2 months

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The Lethe

An Ichor Veil masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 7.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Greek mythology au, modern retelling. Reader is named Persephone but has no physical characteristics. Smut, M/M/F, loss of virginity. Praise kink. Breath play. Pain play. Feelings of fear, jealousy, and anxiety. Mention of abuse by reader's mother.

The next morning, you wake alone.

You lay alone too, dread swirling in the cosmos, a thick, uneasy tension swooping over the palace where you linger, the protracted creep of corroded hanging moss, a thick curtain of dying green.

Memory is sharp. It’s fickle. It has a hold on you, your mind, your body, and your legs shift restlessly in bed, thighs pressing together.

Cerberus snores on the rug in front of the fireplace, lean and lissome and stretched long.

They open their eyes as soon as your feet touch the floor, shaking off their stupor and trotting over to rest all three heads on top of your thigh.

Pet me.

How could you say no?

“I really have to use the bathroom.” You whisper after giving each ear a good scratch, stretching tall, bones and muscle all stringent, but not sore. Almost nothing feels tender, you realize, and when you inspect yourself in the bathroom mirror, there’s no evidence of last night.

No raw, punished skin.

No puncture wounds.

You’re relieved, the impending doom-like feeling that plagued you the moment you opened eyes lessens, and-

A small shard of disappointment settles in its place.

Did you desire to wear their mark? To have them on your skin, by choice?

Your back is an ugly crisscross of fine golden lines, all remnants of the Whip.

These, you did not choose. These, you do not wear proudly, or at all. You hide them. You’d rip them from your skin if you could. Pull them out from tip to tail, scratch yourself raw.

You’ve already tried.

Your fingers find the faintest remnant of last night, a small dip in your skin the circumference of a tooth. Everything comes flooding back, the sting of your palm against the John’s cheek, the indulgent dig of the cuffs in your wrists.

They stole you.

Do you care?

You expect to feel more unsettled. More enraged, but it only trickles through like a summer’s spring, barely bubbling up through cracks in the earth. You feel betrayed by their thievery of you, but something else lurks beneath the surface, something soft and beautiful, threatening to drag you in with it.

It’s dangerous here, but not in the way you were expecting.

Maybe it is the separation from the wildest part of your being that has cooled your temperament, somewhat.

Only somewhat.

After all, you did hit John in a fit of rage, did you not?

A loud knock rattles the door. Cerberus whines.

“My lady.” A Naiad stands on the threshold of the room, your room, you suppose, her black clothes, nearly white hair both ethereally sleek, hands clasped in front of her waist.

“Um…”

“Your presence has been requested, if you are…” she pauses, delicately, jaw tilting with a shadow, eyes narrowing into slits. “Awake.” She sweeps over you, performing an inspection for something from head to toe, and you find yourself studying her ears, their needle pointed tips accentuated by such symmetrical bone structure, she nearly looks like a cat.

She regards you like one too. Aloof. Holier than thou.

Bitchy.

“I am.”

“Wonderful.” But it doesn’t feel wonderful, the word overflowing with acid. Who is this female?

“I’m sorry, who…”

“I am Minthe, my lady.” Why is everyone calling you that? All the time? You frown.

“Like the plant?” Cerberus shifts at your side, rising on their haunches just so, and she glares at them.

“Yes, my lady. Like the… plant, as you say.” Her teeth shine into a smile, forced and uncomfortable.

Something is wrong here.

“Will you be joining us, or shall I inform them you deign to continue resting?” Us?

“No, I’m well rested, thank you.” She inclines her head, graceful movement elongating her already supple neck. You study her, cataloging her razor-sharp fingernails, polished heels, chin length bob. She seems like an assistant of sorts, heavy black book tucked under arm.

“Very well. I will wait for you here.”

“My Kings. The lady Persephone.” Gross. Minthe announces you, stepping to the side to allow you entrance from behind, the removal of her in your path revealing a large office, two dark stained wood desks with two very handsome gods seated behind them. Bookshelves blanket the walls, and in the middle of the room, a magic made map of the cosmos glows, gold and blue light dancing across the black marble floor. There’s a giant leather armchair in the corner, wide enough for two, and a soft blanket folded over the back. It’s cozy, homey, a welcome surprise.

Your body aches. Desire simmers in the bottom of the stomach, skin prickling with a shiver.

How is it two beings you hardly know are so capable of making you so crazy?

“Darling.” John croons, rising from his chair. There’s a sharp intake of breath to your side, barely audible, stifled. “How did ye sleep?” He’s close now, close enough that you could reach out and touch him, if you were so bold.

A magnet draws you closer.

A collar. A leash.

Hades holding the end of it.

“Fine, thank you.”

“That will be all, thank you Minthe.” Simon dismisses her, still focused on you. She steps away in silence, and when the door clicks closed- John is on you.

He presses close, arm snug at the small of your back, forehead dipping down to rest gently against yours.

“Sweet Persephone.” He murmurs, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek. “Are ye well?”

“Yes.” You breathe. You welcome his touch, this affection, and it feeds a sapling, roots trying to take hold, trying to survive. To grow. To bloom.

His lips lay above your brow, long kiss freezing into a slow moment, and Simon watches with a satisfied smile, a loving glance exchanged between the two as John pulls away. “Have ye eaten?”

“No, she, Mint, brought me right here.” He holds a laugh at bay. “Who is she, anyway?”

“Minthe was once our consort, now she works as an assistant of sorts.” Simon says the slowly, and the room darkens, shadows building in the corners, flooding the cracks and crevices of the bookshelves.

Well, that explains just about everything, then.

“Your consort.”

“Aye. But ye dinnae have to worry, we’ve not been with her in quite some time. We’ve been waitin’ for-“

“Johnny.” Simon stands, moving into your space. It’s only his name, and still so much more is communicated within those two syllables.

Waiting for what?

“Would you like breakfast?” He’s smooth with the disruption, steering and redirecting the train of thought.

“We hoped ye would want to take breakfast in here, with us.” John explains softly, and you nod. A simple request.

“Sure.” You pause, considering. “Could I…” Would they still have them? Is it rude to ask? You’re not quite sure how it works. Is there a kitchen?

“You can have whatever you like, darling.” Simon encourages.

“Portokalopita?” Johnny chuckles, tugging you a little closer, mouth to your temple.

“Of course.”

The orange cakes arrive with a fragrant pot of coffee and some Greek yogurt, slivered almonds on the side. Your usual breakfast. You blink, suspicious for a half second before remembering-

“Why were you watching me?” Simon tenses. “I mean, it’s obvious, now, that meeting John outside of Hebe’s was not coincidental, was it?”

“It was not.” You tuck your feet up into the chair, shifting on your side with a steaming cup in your lap. “We have been… curious about you.” Your blood runs cold. The marks on your back begin to sting, a phantom pain you know does not exist, but still plagues you. Hurts you.

“Curious.” You croak. “Why?”

“We have heard stories. It is rare that we find ourselves so… fascinated by one who dwells in Olympus. John and I, we felt… a desire, to learn what we could.” John smiles, turning fully to face you, reaching for one of your hands.

You do not give it. You’re uneasy, like there’s a direness lurking in the darkness of the room, waiting to pounce. It’s an overwhelming inclination of trepidation, of misanthropy… much like the rivers spilling from this land.

“So, you spied on me.”

“We did.”

“And… you don’t see an issue with that?”

“I… understand how this may be unsettling to you.” Unsettling? More like a set up?

“I don’t…” You sip your coffee, trying to pick through a smattering of words. You must choose them carefully, you’ve come to realize, to get answers. “I don’t understand, why go to such great lengths? There are dozens of other goddesses, more beautiful, more composed, more worthy of your attention than… me.” You, Demeter’s daughter. Demeter’s failure. You, the goddess who rarely leaves her temple, the one who does not engage in socialite events or associate with the more powerful Golden ones in the city.

You, who talks to plants.

“I mean, look at Hebe, or Artemis, one of the Pleiades, they’re all-“

“No.” Simon cuts to the quick. “We do not care for other goddesses, sweet Persephone. We only care for you.” An undercurrent of power ripples, shuddering between the three of you. “Our affection, our care… is only true for you.”

“Me.” Because they do not know you. If they did, the affection would certainly wane. How long would it be, before Minthe was warming their bed once more?

“You, darling. It’s why we brought you here. To know you, as you are. Not as your mother intended, or how chatter portrays.” You look between them, slow eyes finding solemn faces, dogmatic in their assurance. “We had hope you might… enjoy our company, as we believed we would enjoy yours.” John shifts. It’s a fractured movement, barely perceived, but unsettled, and he cocks his head afterwards, gaze thick and focused on you.

“I told ye, we’d never hurt ye.”

“I know.” You whisper. You believe it now, to an extent. A pool of guilt tugs you into its current, an apology bubbling up over your tongue. “I’m sorry… about… striking you, last night. It was unbecoming of me.”

“I know ye are.” He soothes, and Simon interjects.

“The next time you feel an overwhelming urge like that, you tell us. We’ll take care of you.” His smile drips with a predatory gleam, and you’re suddenly inside a memory, the feeling of ichor sliding over your skin, spilling down around your fluttering rim, his finger pushing inside your body where you’ve never been touched by another. His mouth, covered in it. Golden lifeblood smeared across his lips, John’s cum spilling down your throat, molten earth, burning you anew.

What started it all? The idea that they locked your magic away? That they took you?

That they trapped you.

“I felt…” You tap over your heart, signifying the part of you that’s missing, and he nods in acknowledgement.

“I understand. It’s a difficult thing, we’ve asked of you, and you’ve done so well.” Your hands tremble, fighting the urge to preen like a raven beneath the praise.

It encourages you. Urges you to talk, spill secrets, let go of weights holding you at the bottom of the sea, where you cannot breathe.

“My- my mother. She used to do something similar. When she felt like I was out of control. When I became… too much. It’s a familiar feeling.” They exchange a long glance, and then John kneels, a hand on your knee, the other stroking deft circles into your thigh.

“Persephone. The scars,” Your eyes slam shut. “on yer back. They were made with a magical object. Did Demeter do that?” He demands, and you inch away, trying to create space, trying to escape this- this conversation, this vivisection.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You whisper. “Please.” His eyes are so blue. Like the Aegean, a venetian, crystalline color that deepens when he frowns, his emotions worn so plainly for both you and Simon to see. He’s distressed, like he wants to scoop you up, carry you away. They’re both staring at you with… pity. “Do not pity me.” You snarl, hackles rising.

“It is not pity you see, darling.” Simon shakes his head. “We do not pity you, or your strength. The story of your temple is known far and wide, even to those down here. It is sadness that we feel. With you.” The lump in the back of your throat is thick, too thick, and it threatens to derail your composure.

You push past everything else. The assurance you could come to them, when you felt like you were going to explode, detonate across the world, when everything turns white and you need your pain, your pleasure.

You’re only here for a day longer.

The rest of your breakfast is put aside, and you stand between the two with an open palm.

“Well, then. What’s on the agenda for my last day?”

There are many places in the Underworld that hold you captive, but Hecate’s piece of it, a forest of dew dropped trees with gnarled trunks and lavender flowers, vibrant mosses shuddering beneath your feet, a hollow thrumming with the wildest of magics, leaves you breathless. The goddess is just as striking, tall and elegant, deep black hair that swings at her hips, emerald eyes and pointed nose perfectly set in her face. Her skin glows, a sepia drenched harvest moon, and when she reaches for your hand, you swear you hear the barking of a dog.

“My lady.” She gives you a graceful squeeze before she releases and bows her head. “You are more lovely than the rumors credit.”

“Oh.” Your face heats. “Thank you.”

“The rumors say ye’re as fair as Aphrodite.” John teases, and your eyes go wide.

“Surely not.” You brush it off, but the tingle across your skin remains, flattery nestling in your heart. “Your home… is beautiful.” You try to give it back, deflect it upon her, and she watches you with knowing eyes.

“Thank you. It was born from me, as I’ve heard your temple was from you?”

“Yes.” She motions to a winding path that disappears into the thick of the trees, and you oblige, soaking in the sparkle of the wood. The magic is dense here, heavy, like water, flowing through all things, the roots, the leaves, the crows adorning the branches, following you from perch to perch. You don’t notice, when John and Simon start talking, asking Hecate a question about… something, too transfixed on the multitude of colors flourishing at the tops of the canopy, leaves and petals fanning out like a muted rainbow.

Again, you’re struck with a confusing consideration.

How is it the Underworld is capable of such life?

Hecate’s piece of this realm is alive, lush and untamed, resonant magic oozing from every spiral and cell in the moss, in the bark, in the air. Amethyst leaves ranging in size from head to hand fall from the sky like the changing of seasons, and the entire hollow breathes with it, power pulsing in a light breeze all around you.

Even the crows are thriving, living things. Part magic, part bird.

You frown.

“Persephone?” Simon questions, gentle hand on your back. It’s warm, and firm, pulling you into the touch, butterflies in your belly slowly cracking their eyes opening, greeting the day with a flutter of wings.

“Sorry, it’s just… the crows, they’re… alive?” Hecate laughs.

“Yes, they live. They’re my own murder, traveling as I do, between the Underworld and Olympus.” She holds out a hand and an iridescent, onyx feathered companion lands gracefully in her palm, preening. “There are many corvids here, now. Magpies, jays, treepies. They’re supposed to stay confined to the hollow, but I suspect some of them have made friends in Asphodel Meadows.”

“Now? Were they not here before?”

“No birds lived in the Underworld, before Hecate’s residency.”

“Hades allowed me a home,” she smiles at them, gentle appreciation aglow on her face, and then turns back to you. “a gift in itself, and so, I give them one in return.”

“You are more than generous.” John says. He walks close, hand lax at his side, fingers occasionally grazing yours. The touch is hardly a moment, fleeting, but it burns you through, muscle, soul, and bone shivering in response.

“Hades is benevolent, though they’d never let Olympus know it.” She murmurs, raven black hair catching in the wind.

“I’m starting to see that.”

“This is the Lethe.” Simon gestures to the rushing river before you. It’s not a river of hopelessness, like the Acheron, but something else. Something different.

It’s a river of loss.

“What… what is it?”

“The Lethe is the river of oblivion. She takes memories from souls, freeing them from past torments, or pleasures.” John is gentle, grasping your elbow, keeping you close at his side. You don’t resist, sinking into the warmth of his body, letting his steady comfort guide you away from where you stood at the edge, entranced by the low rumble of the water, the melodic call echoing from the rocks below.

“Or it serves as a punishment.” Simon warns at your back. The chorus rises, song reverberating, and you tip forward, away from John, straining to hear who it calls, the repeated exhalation of your own name.

“Persephone.” He warns, heavy magic blanketing the ground, cypress and white poplar drifting on the breeze, thick with the weight of his magic. “If the Lethe were to take you, there would be no returning to Olympus, or your memories. She is a power even we do not control.” She.

“She? What do you mean?”

“She was, is, a goddess in her own right.” Your eyes widen, the river hissing and crooning to you, desperate vibrato just on the cusp of her song, a sound sharper than a banshee’s wail. “Of all the rivers in the Underworld, she is the one to be feared. We can free a soul from the Acheron, or the Pyriphlegethon, we can forbid a crossing of the Styx, but we cannot return memories taken by the Lethe.” Simon draws you away, arm around your waist. “Come.”

John drags you back to the meadow.

He cradles you in his arms, opposite Simon, who sits silently, eyes half lidded, reclined on his elbows.

“Do ye like it here?”

“It’s beautiful.” You trace the fragile petals, white velvet smooth and soft, canary yellow pistils shimmering in the afternoon sun. “I love narcissus.” Simon’s mouth quirks to the side, turbulent sea settling after a storm when you look his way, and John tucks your back into his chest, heavy arm across your shoulders.

“The Underworld agrees with you. It is not every day the Narcissus sing for a soul.” His mouth is on your cheek. You press, pushing skin between teeth, and he obliges with a nibble, not enough to sting, but with enough pressure you feel the edge of his incisors, vicious points of his canines.

“It’s… not what I expected.” This is easy to concede. Easy to close your eyes and slip away in the web of them, their hold, their touch. Easy to pretend they didn’t steal you outright, they haven’t locked your magic away, they haven’t taken you from your only home.

“Would ye come back? To visit with us?” Your eyes are still closed, and you hold them there, fingers sliding through the lithe growth of grass, stroking across stems and petals, feeling for the pulse of their power, the magical force of nature existing the same in a tiny blade of greenery, as it does in every fiber of your goddess hood.

“Yes, I think I would.”

They lay you down in a crux of a hill, legs spread upon a bed of Narcissus, fragile blooms crushed beneath sacred weight, a cacophony of power joining together.

Your mouths meet, again and again, limbs and tongues and teeth joining together in a rapturous haze, a firestorm brewing inside you, a swell of power so strong you can feel it tearing at your skin, glorious and brazen, clawing at the cage. It is wild in your heart, in your mind, and only burning brighter as Simon tugs you close, a hand over your heart, his mouth on your breast, teeth grazing your nipple atop muslin, an insatiable god devouring at a mystical altar.

When he bites down, your legs fall wide, and John kneels in prayer.

There are many names for it, you know, but in this moment, it’s as if time is old, a god’s back bowed for you, his mouth on your cunt, sacrosanct promises running free like the rivers of this land, like the spring bubbling up from the depths of your temple, pulled from the land like John pulls pleasure from you.

Ichor runs. It paints you in gold, drips from Simon’s mouth and between your legs, mixing with the slick and spit swirled by Johnny’s tongue, the cusp of a cliff’s edge growing closer and closer-

But not close enough.

A gilded hand fits your throat, a collar made of divinity, and he squeezes, enough to make your vision spot, fingers digging into the dirt and roots and stems of flowers long crushed. John does not relent, only pushes you farther and farther against the edge, sanctifying the bond stitching between the three of you each breath you draw, the spool of Fate spinning long woven threads stretching to the end and beginning of time, knitting you into the patchwork of their lives, their eternal existence.

Their goddess.

Your Hades.

“Come, Persephone. Come for us.” Light explodes, forcing your eyes shut, and you tremble between them, crying out their names in near hysteria, celestial light bleeding from your skin like a star in the sky.

John gasps.

Simon tips his chin to the sky, and laughs.

Their room is quiet. Dark in the daylight, an empty burrow dug by a fox, pitch black emptiness as far as one can see.

“I’ve never…”

“We know.”

They hold you like treasure, like glass. Gentle words and touch, John cradles you in the cove of his body, magic zinging across your skin, sparks flying in the room.

Simon kisses the inside of your knee, arranging you carefully between John’s spread legs. He’s hard at your back, heavy cock throbbing hot on your skin, but he only grabs your hand to hold it when you reach for him, tucking you gently back into his cradle with his lips on your neck.

Is this what it feels like? Love?

“What do you want darling?”

“You. Both of you.” Simon, aglow in the flickering fire light, smiles at you and John, pride and glory, divinity still fresh between his teeth.

“Let us care you for tonight.”

You nod, and clothes vanish. John’s cock weeps in the cleft of your ass, his body trembling with effort to hold himself still, and you turn your face to his, letting him work his tongue into your mouth as Simon stretches you a finger, tiny explosions of pleasure imploding with each stroke.

Hands, teeth, tongue- a tangled mess of divinity.

Powerful gods, together mightier than Zeus, worshipping between your legs, glory abound in the sound of your moans. Simon gives you more, languid touch turning fevered, adding another finger to your soaked entrance, and you gasp, spine quivering in pleasure.

The gods kiss. Simon cups John’s cheek, holding him steady, exploring, deep and true. You can only watch, mouth ajar, taking in every lavish touch exchanged, Simon’s bicep flexing as he pumps John’s cock, a crease in his eyebrows when there’s a huff and moan.

“Darling.” Simon murmurs, thumb and forefinger holding your chin. John presses his lips to your neck again, nipping and sucking your skin, fingers ghosting over your belly and breasts. It makes you squirm, insatiable hunger rising in your throat, in your soul, and you yearn for them, for this, for it to culminate and flower.

Bloom.

“Please.”

“Ye dinnae need to ask.” John hums, delicately lifting one of your knees, exposing you like a spring blossom. “Look at ye, already desperate for him.” He strums through the wet mess between your legs, fingertips lifting to his mouth, lashes fluttering as he licks.

You want to correct him. Want to tell him it’s not only for Simon, but for him too. That everything is for both, a balance of scales, pain and pleasure and passion all revolving around the two of them, with you in orbit.

But your words fail, and John looks at you with eyes full of stars, endless night dotted in endless nova, like you’re the one being orbited, being loved, being worshipped on consecrated ground.

“You give us a great gift, little goddess.” Simon’s palm rests on your thigh, thick, swollen cock leaking against your skin. He’s big, bigger than you’re sure will be comfortable, a little bit of fear starting to pique as you shift, and he leans, an elbow near your shoulder, face above yours, level with John’s. Everything slows, Olympus stopped in its tracks, the Underworld holding its breath, and the three of you breathe, magic tugging and tearing at your souls, dragging you closer to the cusp of something unknown.

You can feel it.

“We’ll go slow.” He strokes your cheek. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much, yes?”

“Yes.” There’s a softness in him, intimidating edges all worn gentle, and his eyes are heavy, focused as he pushes into your body, fire and flood making your fingers dig into John’s thigh.

It burns.

It hurts.

It’s good.

The agony is decadence, sharp tinged pain morphing into fiery pleasure, burning in your soul and your veins. You moan, and John presses his thumb to your tongue, holding your jaw firm as Simon begins to move, carefully working you open with gentle strokes, gritted restraint clear in his jaw.

“F-fuck.” You hiss around the digit in your mouth, and they both watch, observing, waiting for a safe word or a warning sign.

Nothing comes.

Only pain.

Only pleasure.

“More.” You croak, and Simon noses your cheek, lips drawing a line up Johnny’s forearm as he strokes, hips swinging to meet yours, body trying to fold in half when he seats himself so deep you swear you can feel him in your belly. “Oh gods.” Your eyes roll back in your head.

You’re on fire. Burning in the pits of Tartarus, crammed between the gods of death, exalted through mounting pleasure and pain, twisted together in veneration.

Simon shoves deeper, up through your cunt to your throat, through your magic and out your mouth, insanity leaking from your lips like you drip around his cock. It’s obscene, the way he batters into his body, the lap of John’s tongue in your mouth, his finger against your clit, how you light up beneath them like a supernova.

“There it is.” Simon’s eyes glow, observing and inspecting, watching the way you take his cock, celestial light spilling from your pores. You cling to them, shiny like a pearl, iridescent and wild, groaning with each thrust.

They split you open, crack your very soul wide, broken cypress beneath an axe.

It’s an unrelenting pace, an lewd show of slick and tears and sweat- ichor that runs down your throat when John pinches your clit, inside of your cheek crunching between your molars like a meal.

“Ahh, please- please.” You’re rambling. Begging.

More. More. More.

“Sweet little thing.” Simon spits, cadence transforming into something slow, the subtle rock of a boat on the sea, nudged up against your cervix. “Perfect little pussy, made for your gods.” Plural. Like they’re both housed in one, experiencing together, breathing and fucking and biting, as one.

John pushes his nose under your jaw, iron grip lashed across your waist, holding you steady, keeping you in place over the reverberation in your chest of screams and moans, noises unlike a goddess and more like an animal, a tiger, a bird-

Simon slams into you. The pain is shocking, and you scramble, reaching for purchase, clinging to him, to John, explosion of stars illuminating your vision.

When he rains a hand down across your flank, your eyes roll back, slipping beneath the swell of pleasure and pain, a war raging between the two.

“Good girl-“ Simon grits, and you pulse around him, greedily, squeezing with another strike against your flesh, fingers dug into your hip. There’s a glimmer of darkness in the room, ebbing cruelty lingering in the corners, watching in wait, bidings its time, knowing it needs the right moment, the perfect crescendo in order to strike.

“Look a’ him.” John marvels. “Makin’ a mess of ye.” You blink up at them both, lashes webbed with tears. They’re beautiful, etched from marble, perfectly cast in the image of ultimate power, dark and decadent, decay and hope, sculpted together.

They will break you.

“Please-“ the plea breaks off in a gasp.

“We know, darling. We know.” John soothes, syrupy and smooth, a hand running over your ass with another whip of his fingers. He probes at your rim, lightly testing before pushing in, stretching, exploring, and you keen, curling around them, muscles burning red like hot coals. It sears. It nearly pushes you over the edge.

You want to fall with them, into them. You want them to take everything, to give you pain and pleasure until you’re not sure who or where you are, remake you in the image of these emotions, this wildness flowing between the three of you.

John pushes a second finger in beside his first, and you see stars. Three become one, bursting into light and bathing the room, touching over the bed and walls and gods, casting opalescence across their faces.

“Fuck!” you gasp, and Simon’s lips curve on your skin, voice low and rough when he speaks.

“Ours.” He vows, chokes, guttural. “Our goddess." He fucks you deep, relentlessly, firm hand gripping you flesh. "You can take it, show us your light.” He’s lost himself in you, and you in them, crying out as they throw you over the precipice. “Come, darling.” It takes no urging. You’re already there, praise and agony and explosions of nerves imploding, throwing you into an orgasm that has your legs locking in place around Simon, your fingers tangling in John’s hair.

You become light. Divine incarnate. Celestial dawn, touching the peaks of existence for the first time. It flows and flows from you, overpowers your senses, drowns you in a sea of exhalation.

Simon shouts something. His mouth finds yours, but you’re lost in the waves of your own pleasure, still holding tight to both, anchoring yourself through the erratic thrusts of Simon’s body, his hips jerking as he fills you with his own gift, a touch of divinity lodged where he ends and you begin, his hand wrapped around John’s cock and stroking until he’s spilling. Simon’s tongue on yours, on John’s, open mouths and wet faces bent together to make one, hallowed, consecrated temple, the planes of your bodies twisted together in the depths of the Underworld.

Your light shines and shines until you think your heart may give out.

Maybe it does. Maybe it bursts into stardust. Maybe it becomes theirs.

“Will ye have dinner with us? A last meal?” John presses a kiss to your shoulder, decadent and sweet. You’d forgotten about your need to leave, forgotten about Olympus, and the reality is somber. Still in their arms, and you already long for them, mourn them, dread the lugubrious return to your own realm, where your life awaits.

“The door.” You murmur, fingertips tracing over Simon’s chest, the hallowed ground where your head lays, where you listen to the steady thump of his heart. “Will you show me?”

“After dinner. Please.” John murmurs it into your skin, and though it’s a shattered promise waiting in the wings, there is nothing in you deciding to protest or say no, not when he tugs you free, rolling you onto your back so Simon can tuck you into his arms. “After dinner, we’ll show you.”

He spreads your legs, stroking a finger through the seam of your cunt, watching lazily with heavy lids as you whimper.

An offering he will give.

An offering you will receive.

“After dinner, then.”

You wake to an empty bed, much like this morning.

“John? Simon?” The sheets are soft against your skin, but there’s bitterness in the air, magic like death lingering in the room.

It feels like rot.

The door is ajar, barely. It allows light to spill in across black marble, the faint, sharpened pitch of an argument echoing down the hall.

You sit up.

What’s happening?

There’s a wine-red robe draped over the edge of the bed, and you don it, quickly, quietly slipping down the onyx halls, straining to listen.

“The Fates decided, and they chose benevolently. We are honored by such a gift.” The Fates decided what? There’s a strangled, indignant laugh. A female’s.

Power snaps, rough and wild.

“You cannot possibly mean to make this… this goddess of spring your Queen.” What? Acid brews in the pit of your stomach, swirling together and forcing you forward, desperation on the balls of your feet. Is that Minthe? Is she talking about you?

“Persephone is to be our wife; ye will speak of her with respect or not at all.” John snaps. You’re what?!

“We have waited, and would wait centuries more, to receive her. Her presence brings an eternal season, to us, to all who would love her, here in the Underworld.”

“But you do not truly care for her.” You tremble. A sea devours you, pulls you beyond the black water, down into the trenches, far deeper than anyone ever knew existed. There, it tosses you side to side, virulent rage and sorrow rising beneath your feet, pushing you back up to where you break the surface.

And break free.

The agony in your heart shatters the strongest magic, draws your own power back into yourself, twists it together to become something more, something wicked, something villainous.

Ungovernable Persephone.

“It is more than care. It is devotion, an all-consuming passion. One you would not understand.”

“But she’s a freak! A shut in li-“ Minthe’s words do not continue. They flail in her throat, the same way her soul does as you appear around the corner and twist it, making it malleable, ripping and tearing until it grows anew, sprouting with vigor into a new form.

The ground shakes. John shouts something at you, but you’re far past reason, far past explanation, and now there is only Demeter’s vengeful daughter, a wicked soul.

Rotten to the core.

Your magic swells. The palace trembles, and you feel the flow of life, Hecate’s grotto, the souls, Asphodel meadows. Every bloom and blossom cry out with you, and you scream your rage into a terrible power, one with thorns and vitriol. They surge together, and you draw from them like drinking from a river, pulling and pulling until you can no longer see, or hear, lost in the wind, the bliss of your wicked soul, your weaponized magic.

“Persephone.” A gentle voice calls, Hands cradle your face, a thumb smoothing your brow. “She cannot hurt you, Persephone. Stop this. Now.” A demand, sweeter than primrose and lily, drips like nectar against the will of your rage. “It’s alright. There is nothing to fear.” He murmurs, empyreal restraints tightening at your wrists, harnessing your power, redirecting it into the ether, commanding it still and steady.

When your vision clears, it’s horror you face.

Horror of your own doing.

You stumble away, clutching the robe to your chest, mouth agape.

On the floor between you and the Kings of the Underworld, is a small mint plant. It sprouts from a tiny clump of dirt, timid and frail.

It harbors a soul.

It harbors your wrath.

You are a monster.

“No, darling-“ John tries to reach for you, but Simon stops him, an arm out, catching him at the waist. There is sadness on one face, aloof calm on another.

Are these really the gods you gave yourself to? The ones you believed would care for you?

You are a fool.

You turn for the door and run.

You’re sprinting towards a river.

In the dark, you can’t be sure which it is. You’re not sure of anything, in these moments, these shattered clips that fracture your heart, the confusion that ricochets inside your brain, a silver pinball bouncing off walls with lights and noises exploding in the silence. Everything competes with the rush of a river, roaring swell crashing against rock, humming alive in the dead of night.

Their wife.

They brought you here to be their wife.

You laugh out loud to the cool, crisp air.

A fool.

Fate’s tool.

They weren’t interested in you. You aren’t special. You’re only a sanctimonious fortune from the The Moirai. Something promised. Something they feel you deserve.

Something you have no choice in, again.

But would you choose it?

Simon’s words ring in your ears.

“Persephone is to be our wife; you will speak of her with respect or not at all.”

“We have waited, and would wait centuries more,”

“It is more than care. It is devotion, an all-consuming passion. One you would not understand.”

The Fates.

The Fates decided.

The Fates decided to honor them… with a gift.

A gift.

You laugh again. It catches, hysterically, building and building into an explosion, a wild streak of pain taking root in your heart, and beneath your feet, Narcissus blooms. Even at a full sprint, the rage in your voice is palpable, and it breaks, cracking your chest wide with a sob.

They were never going to let you go.

They do not care for you. They only care for what has been bestowed to them. Their gift.

Not you. Not Persephone.

“Persephone!” A shout in the distance echoes over the valley, and only urges you faster, feet flying through a meadow. No flowers grace your shins, only grey grass, silvered in the moonlight.

Another voice calls to you.

The promise of oblivion. Of freedom. Memories laid to waste in her path, scars and agony and heartbreak all put to rest, buried beneath a mountain built of abeyance, weightless in the face of true nirvana.

Freedom.

Freedom from this truth, this betrayal. Freedom from your own stupidity, your foolishness washed away, soul wiped clean. Freedom, from the crack of your mother’s Whip, a magical object sculpted from the breadth of her power, built to hurt only you, for eternity.

You stand at the water’s edge. She’s too strong, and you cannot pull away, feet glued to the riverbank, fixed upon the rage of her waters, the power behind the swell.

Would it be so terrible?

You see Hebe. Melia. Nell. Their light, their laughter. The way their smiles sculpt their faces, how their power tastes when it infects the air. Your friends, forgotten.

But still she calls. She lashes her power to your own, strips of bark laid against your soul, binding you to her, tugging you closer and closer to the water.

You dig in your heels. The cacophony thunders, drowning everything else out, the scream of your name, the haunting in your heart.

You fight.

You fall.

Simon has never felt such terror.

Ichor turns cold in his chest, fear and panic rising into a tidal wave, an epic monster of emotion, filling his lungs with leaded salt water, choking out his last breath.

“Simon!” John shouts. He pushes his power into the river, cutting the current effectively in half, slowing its pace to a trickle. It will be enough, to find you.

It won’t be enough to save you.

Simon stands motionless. He cannot see anything, except the memory of your fall. Slipping into the river, disappearing beneath the water that will take your mind, your memories. The intricate pieces that make you, you.

He does not deny he had considered it. Allowed it to darken his mind, disrupt his intentions. He discussed it at length even. Argued with Johnny about bathing you in the water, bringing it in through a spring, disguising it as something it was not. Something safe.

“If she bathes in the Lethe, we will be all she has ever known, Johnny. She will no longer hold the pain, the torment from her mother’s hand, she will not carry the grief, the guilt of leaving Olympus behind. She will be ours. Wholly.”

“Ye’re talking about erasing who she is. The things that make her ours. Without them… what is she? An empty soul. A husk. Ye know what they’re like after they bathe in the Lethe. Ye cannae possibly want that for our wife.”

Johnny was right, of course. A million little pieces made up the goddess that you were, and Simon was a selfish being. He wanted every single one.

But now…

Johnny finds you in the bend of the river, limp and unmoving.

You’re almost gone. Simon knows it, can see it, can taste it. He can hear the realm, weeping for you. Your meadow, covered in Narcissus, each flower’s face wet with tears for you.

“Open yer eyes, Persephone.” John shakes you roughly, grip tight with panic, and then cradles your head to his chest like a babe, rocking back and forth. “Come on, little goddess. I’m here, we’re right here. We’ve got ye.” You’re silent. Near death, eyes and skin a thin membrane, everything washed away in the Lethe.

You’re gone. They’ve lost you.

Your heart slows. Your breathing stutters.

He’s been here before. He knows this feeling all too well. The frightening emptiness that even he, Hades, cannot combat.

“Simon.” John snaps. His hand hovers over your diaphragm, more magic, more power releasing into your body, filling you with all that he can give, all that you will take.

They’ve lost you. Before they even had a chance.

Too proud. Too arrogant. A monster on a throne.

He caused this.

“She is not gone, Simon. Help me.” John hisses, tenacious and hopeful. Strong. Simon’s compass in the dark. The brightest star in his sky. Forever buoyant.

Unstoppable John MacTavish.

Ungovernable Persephone.

And… him.

Your skin is cold, ice, and you’re so delicate in John’s arms, so broken, that Simon considers falling into the Lethe himself, just for a moment. “We need to get her inside.” John rocks you, cooing above your ear, trying to soothe the radiating distress, the rattle of your chest. “Sh-sh-shhh. Ye’re safe. We’ve got ye.”

Simon tugs all his power around you and Johnny like a jacket, a blanket tucked snug on your shoulders. It warms you, easing the shivering and jerking, and he holds it there, unleashing the untouched depths of his power, of Johnny’s, of this realm, forcing it into your soul the only way he knows how.

An idea blossoms in his heart. One born of midnight flower, bat orchid and hellebore, black dahlia and elderberry. Framed by the flowering vines that cover the outside of your chambers.

It’s an idea blooming from the very essence of your magic, your goddess-hood.

It’s reactionary. It’s wicked.

Rebirth.

Split your soul, and theirs, again. Merge their power, and yours.

Wed you.

“Johnny.” He whispers. He steps closer, hovering, a hand strong on the back of his neck, the other cupping your cheek.

“We shouldnae.” He shakes his head. “I cannae do it.”

“We must.”

“She will ne’er forgive us.” He cradles you tighter, almost defensively. You moan, the sound wretched and pained, and Johnny pales.

“The Lethe has taken her from us. She is fading, I know you can feel it.” Johnny slams his eyes shut, brow quivering. “Look at me.”

“Si.”

“This is our only option.” For every protest, he has an answer. For every reason why not, he provides an alternative. It snakes forward, through John’s rebuttal, through the time it takes for Simon to pull both him and you into his arms, on the banks of the Lethe in one moment, in the din of their bedroom another.

“She might remember, one day.” John lays you on their bed, the rasp of your lungs only increasing with each moment. “Her magic is strong.”

“Then we will beg for forgiveness and hope her vengeful spirit gentles.”

#peaches writes #AIV #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley

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sweetiecutie · 6 months

Text

🖤Fuck or Die part 2🖤

Part 1

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, mdni, smut, non con so rape, violence, obsession, drugging, face-slapping and nose bleeding, choking, kidnapping, mention of murder. If you feel triggered by any of these warnings - just scroll past!

A/n: this took me way longer than I expected but yay, I finally wrote the second part!!! Also absolutely not me incorporating a quote from the movie bc I think it’s impossibly hot🤭

Reading part 1 is recommended for understanding the plot

Your life will never be the same. That damned evening changed you, everything around you, splitting your life into before and after.

Your memories of next few days after the murder were a sheer blur of events and conversations - numerous interrogations with police officers and detectives, psychologists trying to soothe you out of your stupor still, your mother crying her eyes out at the sight of you right after police arrived at the place of Paul’s death. And, of course, nasty journalists trailing behind you, watching your every move, invading your personal space unapologetically.

Of course, you were quite a catch - the first and only one who ever survived a meeting with König. Everyone wanted to know what he looked like - any particular details, scars or tattoos, a fucking skin colour - anything you could remember would be of huge use, giving at least any clues to a dead unmoving case. But there was very little you could help with - König took great care of covering every centimetre of his skin in black clothing, his voice changed, he smelled of nothing but earth and sickening metal of your boyfriend’s blood. Bastard was even smart enough to not cum inside nor anywhere actually, so that police couldn’t get his DNA samples.

A few months had passed since that horrific attack and there were still no traces of König.

It was midday when your parents had to leave to attend your grandma’s birthday - your mother was reluctant, not wanting to leave you all alone. You were never alone actually - a few police cars always patrolled right outside of your house, not allowing even postmen to get too close to your family’s property. It took a lot of reassuring and encouragement from your side to get your mother off your back, convincing her that you’ll be just fine by yourself and that you want your parents to have some fun. She then gave up with a deep sight, promising to be back in only a few hour’s matter.

You heaved a heavy sigh, closing and locking the front door after waving your parents goodbye, heading to the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. A pile of dirty dishes stacked in a sink caught your eye, the sight of its ugly mess on otherwise clean and tidy kitchen caused an itch somewhere deep in your brain. Without second thought you rolled up your sleeves, pouring dish soap onto the sponge and foaming it up.

As you were halfway through the dishes loud trilling of your landline phone calling startled you, causing you to jump on your spot. Your head whipped around, looking into direction from which the sound came. Wiping your wet hands on the kitchen towel you grabbed the phone, tucking it in between your ear and shoulder after accepting the incoming call.

- Hello? - you said, coming back to the sink, swiping foamy sponge over another plate, cleaning it of any grease and leftover bits of food.

- Hello! Um, can I speak to Paul? - your movements halted abruptly. You stood there silently for a long while, muscles stiff and unmoving, eyes staring blankly at some invisible point in the space before you.

- Excuse me, are you still here? Do I have the wrong number? - the man on the other end of the line said, his voice sounding concerned. It seemed to bring you out of your stupor as you drew in a long breath, exhaling noisily.

- Um, can I ask you how you got this number? - you said, already sensing something weird about this whole situation. But cops were all around your place, there was nothing to be worried about, right?

- Paul gave it to me himself. Said to call here if I needed to reach out to him, - man explained. That was strange but not unexplainable - Paul often hang out at your house, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew your home phone number better than his own. - So am I calling right?

- Oh, yeah, sorry it’s just… Paul’s dead, - you said, teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek, sweet metallic taste coating your buds, but you couldn’t care less, nibbling deeper into small wound, feeling of slight pain grounding you successfully.

- Oh god, what happened? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. But who am I speaking to then? - the man said, his voice now sounding genuine and apologetic. Everyone around Y/n suddenly sounded genuinely and apologetic. She heaved another sigh, resuming her scrubbing on the plates.

- He was murdered. And I’m his girlfriend, - you said in a calm tone, free of any emotion or feeling. Paul’s death was pretty much the only thing you talked about with others - police, detectives, police again, his parents and friends, your parents and friends. It seemed like such a sensitive topic turned into a rough callous way too quickly. - Well, I was his girlfriend, - Y/n mumbled after a short pause, faint clatter of porcelain audible in the background.

- Sorry about your boyfriend, - man on the line said. There was a brief moment before he added: - all those muscles didn’t help much, did they?

You froze. Silence settled in, interrupted only by occasional electric noise humming through the speaker. You heard your own pulse humping rapidly in your ears, your breathing fast and shallow, all muscles in your body tensing in alarm, straightening your back. Your eyes shoot up, looking out of the window above the sink. There were a few trees growing shallowly - barely an orchard - separating your house from your neighbours. No one was there.

- What’s that, sweet girl? You can’t see me? - a voice taunted, erupting herds of goosebumps running down your spine. - What a shame, I can see you clear as day.

- Neighbourhood is packed full with cops, you sick son of a bitch. If you only fucking dare coming anywhere close to my ho-

- Now-now, Y/n, - slasher interrupted you unapologetically, his voice hard and cold, causing thin hairs on your arms to rise. - Control your fucking language when you speak to me.

Your eyes dropped down onto the sink, fluffy dish soap foam was sparkling, playing with all the rainbow colors under the sun rays pouring in through the window. You clasped the phone in your non dominant hand, your dominant one reaching out and grabbing a kitchen knife from the drying rack, handle still wet and a bit slippery in your grasp.

- My, my, a dangerous thing that you’re holding. Be careful and don’t cut yourself, dearie, - König taunted, making your teeth clench. All blood drained out of your face, making you as pale as paper. Your eyes were fixated upon your window, peering into the orchard, desperately trying to spot any movement.

- What are you planning on doing? Everyone will hear if I scream. And cops will get your ass into prison, right where it belongs, - you spat out, pushing off the counter; your eyes ran all around the kitchen, looking for your cell phone with detective’s number saved, trying to keep the current call going so it’ll be possible to track it down.

- Oh will they? Then you better not scream, silly, - König snorted, making your blood boil. You were frightened still, terrified even; but the remorse of what he did to you, to Paul, was fuelling into your spite, making you a tad bit braver.

Failing to find your phone you entered the living room, rummaging through cushions and blankets piled on the couch, failing to find the stupid thing.

- Looks like you lost something. What’s up sweetheart? - you threw soft cushion back on the couch violently, huffing in annoyance upon not finding what you were looking for. You straightened and turned around to head to your bedroom, stoping in the middle of your tracks, freezing to the spot.

In the doorway leading to the hall stood König - dressed in all black, with heavy leather boots and his huge dagger strapped firmly to his thigh with a sheath, white scream mask staring right back at you. One large hand was pressing the phone to his ear, the other one was holding up your cellphone - the exact one you were looking for.

- You looking for this? - he asked, his own voice reverberating on the line because of your proximity.

You threw the phone to the side clutching onto the knife tightly. You dashed to the kitchen - there was a back door you could slip through - and outside was filled with neighbours and cops. Just pathetic six or so meters. Just a bit…

A scream tearing through your throat was muffled by a huge hand clamping against your mouth, the other one squeezing your wrist so tightly that for a fleeting moment you thought your bones were snapped, causing your grip on the knife to loosen, it falling down on the floor with loud clatter. König kicked the knife away across the kitchen, folding your arm back which caused your back to arch in pain - it felt as if he wanted to tear your limb from the rest of your body.

- Where do you think you’re going, Y/n? - König growled next to your ear, picking you up effortlessly and dragging your kicking form back to the living room.

Hauling you onto the floor König hooked one meaty thigh over your squirming body, putting bigger part on his weight down onto you, momentarily halting all of your struggle. One huge hand took ahold of both your wrists, pinning them to the floor above your head with frightening ease, his other hand was clasping your mouth still. He crouched down, scream mask was mere fifteen centimetres afar from your face as he seethed:

- Now you shut the fuck up and listen closely to what I have to say, and no one will get hurt, you get that? - he said, waiting until you gave him any sing of agreement. But you offered none. - You get that?! - König growled impatiently, bumping your head against the hardwood floor, causing black spots dance in the corners of your eyes for a long minute. You gave a weak nod, feeling hot tears running down your temples, getting lost among your hair.

- I’ve been thinking about you. A lot, - König sighed, hand that was on your face squished your cheeks together painfully, making your lips pucker out. - About this gorgeous mouth and pretty lips…

König crouched down, barely leaving a few centimetres between your faces.

- A this tight little cunt of yours. Remember how you clenched around me? How good my cock was filling you up?

- What do you want from me? - you weeped quietly, voice barely audible, broken by faint sobs and hiccups.

- Very little, dove. Just be an obedient girl and do as you’re told and no one will get hurt, - König tutted, taking in the sight of your crying face. Gosh, he was a sick fuck - his cock was already getting painfully hard, straining against his pants.

Letting go of your face König reached behind his back, withdrawing something from the rear pocket of his jeans. Just as you opened your mouth to cry out for help he shoved that thing inside of your cavity, slapping a hand over your lips so you won’t spit it out. The thing momentarily dissolved on your tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste; you tried to struggle against killer’s strong hold, thrashing violently, but it led you nowhere.

Suddenly you felt hot - as if you had a really bad fever. Your mind clouding up rapidly, thoughts muddling, muscles becoming weaker by the second. You huffed out in frustration; moving your limbs a few centimetres seemed like impossible labour. World was spinning around you, blurring sharp and distinguishable features of König’s mask into a white haze.

König let go of your face once again, his now free hand slid down your body, cupping your sex through numerous layers of clothing separating you two. Sudden pleasure surged through your weakened body upon the contact; a loud moan that rolled off your tongue startled you - and suddenly you realised just how aroused you felt.

- Jeez, that dude didn’t lie about this shit, - König laughed out excitedly, watching your eyes widen in terror. You could barely move by now, not speaking of trying to fight off a man twice your size. His size. In a blur of all events, words and pain you never came back to just how fucking huge he was. You never mentioned that in any of your interrogations. How fucking stupid, huh?

Killer let go of your wrists cautiously, watching you closely - you rose your hands, resting your palms on his chest and pushing with all the might you had left, but it wasn’t enough to even push a cat off the chair - so that was the limit of your strength in this state?

König barked out another laugh - he was going to have so much fun with you! His hand never stopped massaging your crotch, noting a small wet patch forming on your shorts - you were soaked through your panties and now soaking your shorts? Gosh, he better buy a few dozens of these aids. Psycho’s eyes shot up to your face upon hearing a sob - tears ran down your eyes like small diamonds, turning your eyelids a pretty shade of red. König shifted forth so that his mask was almost touching your nose:

- Oh baby, I’ll be much gentler with you this time, I promise, - König cooed, pressing cold plastic of his mask against your flushed wet cheek, as if giving you a comforting peck.

Slasher shifted a bit, changing his position from sitting on your thighs to being in between them, yanking you towards him by your knees. He did quick job of taking your shorts and underwear off in few fluid moves, impatiently discarding them somewhere to the side. König felt his heavy cock twitch inside his jeans at the sight of your puffy cunny, all shiny from slick that practically oozed out of your fluttering hole. He swallowed hard, saliva was practically pooling in his mouth, having to restrain himself from tearing his mask off and devouring your cunt, exposing his face too early. You whined out something unintelligible, still trying to pry his fingers off one of your knees.

Your skin felt hot even through thick fabric of his gloves, so when König took one off and plunged two of his thick fingers inside of your tight hole he was surprised at how hot it was inside of you - one of the drug’s effects, he guessed. You couldn’t help but mewl at the pleasant feeling, your brain barely functioning, controlling yourself was beyond hard.

- That’s it, sweetness. Lemme hear all the pretty sounds you make, - König encouraged, plunging his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace. Rough thumb coming to circle your slicked clit, causing your whole body to jolt softly. Scent of your pooling arousal was strong and prominent, seeping even through König’s mask, making him throb in his pants.

He couldn’t wait any longer. König was dreaming about your pussy being spread around his cock since that first night, he needed to be inside or else he’ll lose the remnants of his mind. Slasher slipped his fingers out of you, quickly undoing his pants, sliding them down as much as knife holster on his thigh would allow. Your breathing increased as you tried to close your legs, man’s bulky form making it impossible for you to do so.

- No, no please.. not again, - you begged, tears rushing down your temples, your voice meek and barely audible, so König just ignored it.

Pulling his girthy cock out König pumped it a few times with gloved hand, aligning pink swollen tip with your leaking entrance. It one smooth movement he bottomed out half of his impressive length, your body - flushed and pliant - taking him inside without any resistance. Low groan rumbled through his broad chest; König’s head fell backwards, hands gripping soft fat of your thighs, leaving pale marks of his fingertips on your skin.

You hated every second of it. Hated how his hips collided with yours with every thrust, how you felt him throb and twitch inside of you; hated how his hands wandered up and down your sides, rubbing your waist and palming your tits. And you hated how fucking good it felt. Hated how your body, despite all your attempts to resist, to fight off the effects of the drug, gave into the pleasure.

- That’s it baby. Just take what I give you, - König breathed out, his words slurred with pleasure. - See? See how good it can feel when you shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to? Just be a obedient little girl and feel good, I’ll take care of everything else yeah?

It felt as if a ball of bile got stuck in your throat; your face scrunched up in disgust as much as your jelly muscles allowed it:

- Fuck you, - you barely managed to choke out, your tongue struggling to form right sounds.

For a few moments you were sure König didn’t hear you, given the lack of any reaction nor acknowledgement of your words. But the next thing you knew was searing pain in your left cheek, the impact of man’s wide palm with your face jolted your head to the side, sudden change of its position made you felt dizzy. Now world was spinning around you even more so, you felt something warm trickling down your cheek - blood from your nose, you figured. Killer’s fingers roughly gripped your chin, yanking it back so that you were facing him once again.

- You wanna say that again bitch? Come on, I fucking dare you, - he spat out, movements of his hips halting completely, leaving his cock buried deep inside of your rippling warmth.

Your head shifting so harshly once again made you nauseous; you could barely see anything, dark purple circles were dancing all around, changing their shapes and giving way to greens and yellows to flood your vision.

- That’s what I fucking thought, - König gritted out. His hand let go of your chin, coming lower to wrap strong fingers around your neck. His hips started working with even more vigour, forcing his dick in and out of your drugged cunt on the pace that was almost inhuman.

Firm clasp of maniac’s hand around your neck made it nearly impossible to breathe. Both your hands wrapped around his mighty wrist, too weak to actually get him off you. Your vision started to darken rapidly, white noise trilling in your ears, barely allowing any other sounds to filter through.

- From the very moment I laid my eyes on you I fucking owned you. And I own you right now, and forever will. This is my fucking cunt, and I’ll use it whenever I want to. And I need you to fucking. learn. it. - König growled out, emphasising each of his last words with hard deep thrusts of his hips against yours, his cock making your stomach bulge, surely bruising your cervix.

- Oh but I’ll train you. Mould you into my personal cocksleeve, ready to be used whenever I feel like it, - his pace was quickening, thick cotton of his denim pants muffled filthy sounds of his mighty hips snapping against your ass. The grip of strong fingers never eased; König shifted part of his weight onto his hands which were wrapped around your neck, white mask hovering right in front of your face - milky white of it was a harsh contrast to blackness pooling in the corners of your eyes.

With that your conscience started to slip away. You felt your body jolt with every ferocious thrust of man’s hips, his cock buried deep inside of you, bruising your insides with its persistent bullying. Acute lack of oxygen burnt your lungs, and you prayed to all gods that König held your neck a tad bit too long - just enough for you to not wake up the next time. And just before you slipped into heavy delirium, your mushed up brain picked up König’s growl, penetrating through thick noise humming in your ears:

- You’re mine. Forever and ever.

Street was filled with all kinds of noise - sirens from police cars were going off triggering dogs from nearby houses, neighbours were crowding a bit afar, frowning and shaking their heads, everyone having their own theory of what happened. Loud cries of Y/n’s mother shook the air, putting everyone further on the edge. She is such a sweet girl, she’s never done anything bad! Oh god, why is this happening to her of all people?!

Some people were saying that the girl simply snapped, breaking under the pressure of events and finally fleeting the country without telling anyone to not give any clues about her whereabouts to the killer. Some said she just went out to unwind from being constantly watched by police and have some alone time - she’ll show up anytime soon. But everyone knew that it was one of murderer’s deeds - he did something to her. And everyone knew, deep down, that they’ll never see Y/n again - alive, at least.

A young lanky policemen, obviously green and not experienced in his job, was babbling out his report to the superior, all the other cops that were patrolling with him as well stood around silently, too scared to pipe in.

- Sir, I swear we were patrolling the area all this time, there was literally no one but the neighbours, but they were staying at their pro-

- Then you were not doing it well enough! - city commissioner barked out, his mighty vice silencing everyone around for a short moment. His face was red, fuming with rage; nostrils flaring with intensity of his heavy breathing, angry vein popped up on his temple, pulsating in tandem with his rapid heartbeat. His heavy gaze shifted between all the poor officers, their faces pale as chalk.

- You had one fucking job. ONE fucking job - to keep the girl in the sightline - and where is she now, huh? I’m asking you motherfuckers - where is Y/n?! - Mr. Lindner barked out, his heavy voice making everyone jolt. Younger officers stared down on their shoes blankly, not daring to meet eyes with their boss.

- You may consider yourselves lucky if you’ll still have your licences by the end of the week, - commissioner Lindner tsked, spitting onto the ground in remorse. Turning around, he headed to his police issued car, shouldering all those nosy ones who were brave enough to approach him in this state. Getting inside Mr. Lindner closed the door with a loud bang, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway onto the main road.

Commissioner Lindner drove in full silence, blue eyes fixated on the road ahead; it was barely past midnight, but the darkness hung thick all around, being slit by two yellow rays of his car’s headlights. He gripped steering wheel tighter, one hand coming to comb back his grown out hair out of his eyes, a small smile played in the corners of his scarred lips.

Soon he’ll be home - maybe the effects of drugs will wear off by that time and he’ll watch Y/n wake up slowly, those pretty doe eyes of hers gazing up at him drowsily. He will cook her dinner - all of her favourites - and maybe even spoon feed her, if she’ll allow it. Then he’ll bathe her and tuck her in her new bed, locking up the door for the night and watching her sleep through the cameras.

Everything was going as smoothly as ever. No one has accidentally seen him dragging unconscious Y/n out of her house and hauling her into the backseat of his car. No signs of struggle or fight were found - kitchen sink was still half-filled with soapy water and dirty dishes, clean ones drying off on the countertop, a knife with all the fingerprints being drowned among other dirty utensils. Y/n’s parents approved that everything was on its original place - as if the girl just disappeared, dissolved into thin air.

No one suspected a thing. And, of course, no one suspected a respectable city commissioner Lindner with years upon years of experience, a veteran with impeccable reputation, a person no one could speak badly of.

This was the beginning of your new life, life in which everything revolved around König, causing you to cling onto him as if he was some kind of goddess. Life in which you no longer belonged to yourself, but to your abductor. Life in which you finally understood that you don’t need anyone or anything else because you had König, understood that König was your life itself <3

Slasher! König Masterlist

A/n: I apologise for giving König a half assed name, but I thought it’d be really cool for the plot😌

Once again, feedback is highly appreciated! I’m making this a series so feel free to send in your suggestions for more slasher! König content<3

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arachnoia · 9 months

Text

guilty pleasure | miguel o’hara

infidelity, p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public, drabble

— everyone has their own guilty pleasure. movies, soap operas, hobbies…

“oh fuck baby-"

you squirmed as miguel held his grip on your ass even harder, feeling his hard dick still thrusting into your tight walls.

fucking your boyfriend’s older brother just happened to be yours. without telling your boyfriend of course.

he leaned towards your ear, whispering breathlessly from the pleasure you gave him, “you need to be quiet, mami. what did I tell you last time?”

“t-to be quiet and t-take it…please miguel oh my god.”

the plan: go to a fancy boutique and get a nice dress for a date gabri was going to take you on.

great! that was the plan until miguel, his older brother whom used to have a crush on you growing up, came along.

when did the affair start: in your opinion, it wasn’t an affair and didn’t have a “start”. it was just something you did when gabri was away. you’ve always had a friends with benefits with miguel, even before gabri asked you out. remember he used to have a crush on you growing up? you told him you did too and one thing led to another.

cliché.

you considered wanting to drop miguel but due to some conversations and convincing from him, you didn’t.

it was just out of convenience. which is when miguel sneaked into your dressing room, you questioned why. it was usually out of feeling horny but now was random.

you bit your lip, peering from your left shoulder to see yourself in the mirror. it was quite a sight; you were sweaty and was standing up in front of miguel who kept thrusting in you from behind as he held your hips to adjust. his hands were all over you, from feeling and pinching your perky nipples and sensitive breasts to massaging at your hips and ass.

you clawed at the dressing room walls, hoping to not make any noise or be in too long to suspect gabri. there were seven dresses so hopefully that was a good enough excuse.

“fuck…you’re so good for me, princesa-“ he muttered before kissing your neck. the odds of getting caught was at 25/75, now that miguel’s need of being quiet affected his thrusts as they were almost painfully slow. it was like he was dangling candy in front of you, knowing you wanted it. and what you wanted was for him to go harder. you slightly frowned as it was almost quiet and all you could hear was breathing and quiet groans which someone could mistake for being injured.

it was in complete contrast to how miguel would fuck you until your ass felt hot and all you could hear were loud moans and the loud sound of skin slapping. better than any symphony out there.

“can’t you fucking go faster?!”

you heard him darkly chuckle which led a shiver down your spine, “whatever the princess wants, she’ll get.”

you closed your eyes as he obliged with a small grunt. you felt your legs almost shake from how good he was fucking you. it felt fucking euphoric.

you whipped your head to your phone which lit up to a notification from ‘gabriel <3’. you leaned over to read the notifications from your phone placed in your purse pocket.

‘almost done?’

fuck.

you shakily tried to reached for it before miguel stopped you. “who is it?”

“i-it’s gabri…fuck!”

he rolled his eyes and held your hand as he thrusted more, making you wanna roll your eyes in pleasure, “déjalo.”

he raised your head to make you face the mirror where he made eye contact with your worn out and tired eyes.

“you’re mine right now, mami.”

#sol (not de janeiro)#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara #miguel smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel o’hara smut

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justagirlwholikesadam · 3 months

Text

Queen Bee

Remus Lupin x Fem! Malfoy! Reader x Sirius Black

Summary: Remus and Sirius have a third in their relationship which is kept in secret due to their older brother, Lucius Malfoy and because they are a Slytherin.

A/N: I know that the fandom of Harry Potter have a fancast on these two as younger version but i just love the actors who played the older version, so I'm thinking abt them while writing this. By the way, I haven’t read the books so if something doesn’t make sense or things are out of order. Just ignore it or stop reading. :) Enjoy - L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Warning: SFW, NSFW, threesome, reader got white hair, we are Targaryens for a min lol, cum kisses, creampie, talks about life after school, we taking them both, queen bee, everyone is in love, bullying, fighting back. bad childhood, abusive parents

Word Count: 6.5K

Euphoric, that's what he's been feeling since he met you well since they met you. He knows that his feelings for you are a mutual thing with Sirius.

Sirius and Remus were both infatuated and hopelessly in love with you. They laid together at night and they whispered to each other about you as they shared kisses, they spoke about how they were fortunate enough to have a third like you. Someone kind, someone who loves them for them. They talked about the way you smile, the way you speak when excited about something. They talked about your voice and your moans. The taste of your skin, your lips and your cunt. They were whipped for you just as they are with each other.

This relationship was kept in secret just like Remus and Sirius’ relationship was under wraps. Everyone saw them as very close best friends, almost like brothers. They knew people would be uneasy with two men in a relationship but a throuple with a girl will scare people off. People will think it's unethical especially since they are both from House Gryffindor and you’re from House Slytherin as well you are Lucius Malfoy’s younger sister. The saying goes that anyone from House Slytherin is evil and conniving but you weren’t. You had made a difference in their life. It’s been a year and a half since they met you officially. What a year and half it has been, filled with laughter, with love, and lots of experimenting. They were finally in their last year in Hogwarts and they couldn’t be more happy. They spoke about their plans after school. Remus’ family cottage is perfect for three people.

Currently Remus is in bed with you, he’s laying on his back with your head on his chest. He rubs your back with one hand while the other hand is being trapped with your own. It was something you did since the first time you laid with him. You touched his hands, his slender and long fingers, you played with them, kissed them and even sucked on them. You would trace the light scars on his knuckles sometimes.

“I dream about your hands, Rem.” He hears you and can’t help but smile before kissing the top of your head.

“Sometimes I think you’re with me just for my hands.” He says and his smile grows wider when you do a dramatic gasp like one of those cheesy muggle soap operas.

You climb on top of him, sitting on his lap. His hands are pushing the uniform skirt up to your hips, his hands rub up and down on your bare thighs. You begin to loosen the red tie around his neck as you move your hips. Remus lets out a whine when you push against his crotch.

“That’s not the only thing.” You tell him as you lean down close to his face.

“I dream about your eyes, they are so pretty. I dream about your nose.” You said kissing the side of his nose.

“This pretty fucking face.” You whispered, making him blush as you kissed the scars on his face.

“Y-” “Hush I’m not done.” You cut him off, Remus has always been insecure about his face. It took him lots of convincing to accept that you found him attractive even with his scars especially when you found out about his condition. Remus didn't believe someone like you could find him hot. Some days he still had doubts about Sirius finding him attractive. There was always a solution when Remus grew insecure, it would end up, him tied up on the bed with Sirius laying one side while you laid on the other. Both of you would kiss every inch of his body until Remus grows red in the face and accept the fact that both of you find him attractive.

Remus noticed you first because of your hair, people know that white platinum hair from anywhere. It was the signature look of the Malfoy family. Your hair was long and looked so silky, he wanted to touch it at first glance. He even had caught Sirius looking at it and when you passed them, they both stared at you. Lucius had become like a bodyguard when you first came to Hogwarts, walking with you and dropping you off to your classes. Since he was always with you everywhere it was hard for anyone aka guys to talk to you because of your brother. You were oblivious to the guys in the school, you didn't pay attention to them as you sat next to Lucius during meals or in the library. It didn’t help as the years passed and you became top of your classes as well. You were very popular. You were always surrounded by your group of Slytherin friends.

Students in Hogwarts have started calling you Queen Bee because of the status of your family and because of how well you did in school but with a nickname like that, people thought the worst of you. Sirius and Remus were nervous to speak with you because of it. That was until they saw you defending a first year Gryffindor from a Slytherin, an older boy from your house. You weren't afraid to speak your mind especially to bullies and when it came down to defend the younger students. Let’s just say, you weren't afraid to fight a bitch.

When Lucius entered his last year, he stepped down from being your bodyguard when he noticed you settled down well. You knew where your classes were and had made friends and when he graduated Sirius and Remus knew it was their time to strike when they saw you for the first time alone in the library. Sirius had kissed Remus on the lips behind the bookshelves and mumbled good luck to him. Nervously, Remus ran his fingers through his hair, trying to look presentable for you and walked towards you. They have spoken about how to approach you, they noticed that you had a love for books, so Sirius told Remus to step in. Sirius waits for Remus to give him a signal for him to join. Sirius can’t help but feel giddy inside when he sees you smiling at Remus.

“This face is the face I’m happy to sit on.” Remus laughs as you kiss his cheeks then a peck on his lips.

“And these lips.” You pulled his bottom lip with your thumb.

Remus stares up at you with hooded eyes and his heart is bursting with all the love you are giving him. “If there was a spell that allowed me to kiss these lips all the time. I would do anything. Give anything up.”

“Fuck.” Remus breathes out before cupping your face with his hands pulling you in for a kiss. Remus’ kisses are desperate and passionate. He had a way that left you breathless after every kiss. He told you he did it because what if it's the last time he ever got to kiss you. Remus was such a hopeless romantic.

“Should we wait for our Sirius?” You whispered to him. You gasped when Remus tugged you down on his lap, feeling his hard cock.

“A good boyfriend and girlfriend would say yes but I can't help it. You make me go crazy.”

“You make me go crazy too.” You tell him as you stare down at the Gryffindor boy.

“Both of you do. Sometimes I feel like magic was done to me. A spell was cast on me because every time I see Sirius and you. I’m this-.” You grabbed a hand from your thigh and bought it towards your cunt. Remus feels a growl growing in his chest when his fingers touch your crotch, the fabric of your panties is moist and he can feel your heat.

“Wet.” You said as you feel Remus rub your clit through the fabric. Remus moans your name as he stares up at you, his hand between your legs touching that cunt he loves so much.

“Should we..” You mumble as you look over at the door of the bedroom. Sirius still hasn't arrived yet and your cunt is throbbing and drooling for attention. Both of you have told him what time to arrive.

“Our Sirius won’t mind.” Remus said, pulling his hand out and sticking his long digit in his mouth, moaning as he sucked the tip of his index finger clean. Releasing his finger with a pop, you give him a smile as you lean down close to his face to kiss him. He holds your body close to him as he opens his mouth. You can’t help but moan his name when you pull away.

“Please fuck me. Please.” Remus can't help but whine at your moans.

How can he say no to you? Such a pretty thing with her cunt dripping wet for him. Having sex with Remus was different from Sirius. While Sirius was spontaneous, rough and hard. Remus was slow and passionate. You loved it both.

He gets impatient and turns you around. He’s between your legs now, your legs are spread and he’s pulling his tie along with his shirt, throwing them out over his shoulder with his sweater. You try your best to be quick but Remus’ hands are already working on the buttons of your sweater. You can’t help but laugh at how focused he is getting you naked. Few seconds later, your sweater is off, your green tie is gone, and your white button down shirt is off. Helping him remove your bra, he leans down to kiss your chest. He kisses you once more as his hands unbutton your skirt. He whines when he sees the black underwear.

“Remus.” You said his name softly. He looks at your face for a moment before leaning down. He presses gentle kisses on the side of your face.

Remus takes his time, his sweet time with you. You're mewling at him, clawing on his back when he finally has his fill kissing your neck. He licks your nipples, flicking the hard nub before biting it gently, making you moan. His hands make their way to your hips, peeling your underwear off, you help, pulling your knees to your chest. He throws them to the floor not caring where it landed. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Remus leans down to kiss you. Remus knows spending time with you was limited. Both being from different houses, there wasn’t much free time and especially since its the last year. Sirius and Remus didn’t get to see you often. They were touched whenever you made time to see them. Bailing on your plans with your friends just so you can spend time with them. Spending break at school just so the three of you can spend time together was cherished. They were even more touched when you came to them the night before every full moon to give Remus Wolfsbane and told them it took you all day to brew it.

“Remus.” You whispered as you felt his cock pushed against your cunt. He looks down at you, waiting for you to speak.

“I love you.” You confessed to him, moving his sandy brown hair out of his face. You cup his cheek, feeling his scars under your touch.

“Really?” He whispered looking at you, waiting for you to take it back. You nod at him as his eyes grow wide and he gives you a smile.

“I love you.” He says it back. Remus leans down to kiss you, pouring everything he had into you, his tongue slips into your mouth and you welcome him.

“I need you now.” You begged against his lips as your hand touched him. He groans when you start to jerk him off, his long fingers start to tease your clit making you jerk him even faster.

“At least let me eat you first.” You shake your head. “I need you now!” You said pouting your lips at him as you released him. Remus huffs and leans down, your legs wrap around his waist, you whine as he presses his cock against you. He stares at you when you take a sharp breath in when he slides into you.

Remus moans your name when you clench around his girth tightly. Your hands made their way to his face, you kissed him as he nuzzled close to you. Pulling his cock back softly he hears you whine and tell him inside.

“You're just so greedy today.” He says in a playfully tone before moaning your name. He hears you giggle and thrust back in harshly making you moan.

“I can't help it, Moony.” You whisper looking up at him. “Can't help myself with you.”

There's a twinkle in his eyes for a second as he stares down at you.

Sirius is quiet when he makes it up the stairs. He was finally able to leave James and Lily after she had calmed down. Sirius had run up the stairs, skipping a few steps on the way up. He missed his girl and his man. He has been thinking about it all day, he had even been yelled at by a professor for looking at Remus as he thought about today. Remus just raised a brow at him, in a way asking him if he's alright.

No! Sirius wasn't alright, he was just caught daydreaming about his pretty boyfriend and his pretty girlfriend about all the nasty things they were going to do during lunch period. He gave a half ass apology to the professor while trying to pull the front of his sweater further down to his lap to cover his hard on. Waving his wand at the door of the dormitory bedroom, he softly opened it when he heard moaning. He grins at the sound of skin slapping and harsh moans. He feels proud of Remus when he hears you shout Remus’ name with profanity.

“Fuck! Just like that baby. Remus!” Sirius’ pierced ears are ringing now from your moans. He can hear the bed frame banging against the wall. Remus’ bed is the first, anyone can see when opening the door. Sirius was glad because of this. He's leaning against the door frame with a look, his eyes filled with lust and awed.

How he wished he could take a picture of you both.

He admires Remus’ back, his skin is fair and marked with freckles along with scars. Sirius can see the pink scratches marks down Remus’s back, no doubt in his mind that they were from you. He hears Remus moans as he pulls your leg up to his shoulder. Sirius rubs his bottom lip with his thumb as he watches you take the pounding from Remus.

Sirius begins to pull his belt off as he walks in to shut the door softly not wanting to disturb. He doesn't want to disturbed since he knows you're close. Remus had his hand around your neck as you rubbed your clit quickly. Remus isn't far behind, he's looking at you like you have hung the sun and moon just for him. Remus throws his head back when he feels you cumming. Remus whimpers your name, he gets closer, he's going to blow. Remus feels the bed dipped behind him. He feels a pair of lips against his shoulder, he doesn't fret. Is it even possible to know who the person is just by their lips? Remus knows, it's Sirius.

“Cum baby.” Sirius whispers to him before biting on his shoulder as his hands roam around Remus’ body. You look up to see Sirius behind Remus, lifting your legs up, pulling it close to your chest as you whine at Remus’ slow and deep thrusts. You stared at them both as Remus was getting closer, Sirius gives you a wink when he brushes Remus’ ass with his hand and cups his balls from behind, Remus moans shamelessly as Sirius gently squeezes it giving him that push he needed to cum.

Sirius holds his boyfriend when he cums. “Such a good boy, is that right, love?” Sirius asks you, looking over at you with a smile.

You nod before looking at Remus. “Yes, our Remus is a good boy!” You used all the energy you had left to shout, making them laugh. Remus looks over at Sirius, he pecks his lips before Sirius hugs him from behind.

“Fuckkk!” Sirius and Remus said simultaneously as they looked down when he slid his cock out of you. Your pussy lips are parted, they can see Remus’ thick cum dripping out of you after you move a bit. Remus bites his bottom lip as he uses the tip of his cock to scoop up some of the cum and rub it over your clit. Remus curses under his breath at the lovely sight. You're extra sensitive and Sirius can't help himself, he reaches his hand out, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Sirius.” You moan trying to shut your legs but Remus stops you, placing a hand on your knee to keep them wide open for Sirius.

Sirius tells himself to relax, not wanting to push his boyfriend out of his way to taste his girlfriend’s cunt. You say his name again and Remus glances over at him when Sirius plays with the soft curls on your mound.

“He’s thirsty.” Remus says to you with a grin.

“So parched.” Sirius adds, bringing his index finger up and down your slit, he slides it in making you cry out when you feel one of his cold silver rings inside of your pussy.

“Not tired?” Sirius asks you. You shake your head, you wanted him too. Sirius feels Remus lean against him, his gray eyes looking down at Remus’ half hardened cock. No one was tired yet, Sirius pulled away from you and brought his finger to Remus’ lips. Remus doesn't need to be told, he sucks Sirius’ finger, gently biting the tip of his finger with his teeth.

“Give me a taste.” Sirius tells him. There wasn't anything hotter than watching them kiss. You have seen them kiss, fuck, snuggle. Everything they did was perfect in your eyes. Your pussy clenched around the nothingness when you saw Sirius slip his tongue in Remus’ mouth. Remus had cupped Sirius by the cheek pulling him further into the kiss while your fingers were in you, you bit your lip from crying out when you fingered yourself you didn't want them to stop not when Remus had moaned in Sirius mouth. Remus had his fingers in Sirius’ dark curls.

Sirius pulls away to breathe as Remus’ lips attack his neck. Sirius looks down at you with bruised lips. Sirius moans your name when he sees you. His hand rubs your leg as he rolls his eyes when Remus licks his neck.

“Both of you smell so good.” Remus says, Sirius smiles up at him kissing the tip of his nose before pulling him down to lay with you.

“Hello.” Sirius whispered to you when he laid next to you. Remus laid on the other side, his lips were like magnets on your skin. He starts to kiss your bare arm while Sirius kisses you.

Sirius kisses you, pulling you closer to him. He notices the marking on your shoulders.

“Moony, what have you done to our girl?” Sirius asks as you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Had us waiting for you, Si. Remus and I had to occupy ourselves.” Remus looks over your shoulder at Sirius.

“Let’s show our Sirius how we occupy ourselves.” Remus said, making you grin as you roll on top of Sirius, pushing him down under you.

Remus takes a deep breath as he looks over at Sirius and you. You're naked on him, pulling his tie and sweater off. Sirius keeps getting pushed down so you can remove his shirt.

“Sirius! Let me tak-” Your words turned into fits of giggles when Sirius wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you down as he went between your legs. He’s quick to get off the bed to get himself naked. He rushes and throws the clothes over his shoulders, not caring where it went. Two pairs of eyes stare at Sirius’ body, he's lean and fit thanks from the years of playing Quidditch. His arms were toned, they flexed when he threw his trousers over.

The cocky and confident Sirius Black blushes under Remus and your gaze, staring at him like he was the last cookie in the bakery. His nipples grew hard when he saw Remus touching himself, Sirius looked over at you and you grin when you lean over Remus’ lap.

Remus moans your name softly, moving your hair to the side when you lick the tip of his cock. You moan loudly, still staring at Sirius as you kiss Remus’ shaft.

“Naughty girl.” Sirius said, crawling to Remus’ lap on the other side of the bed. “Greedy aren't you?” Sirius whispers to you, giving you a kiss on the lips before licking the other side of Remus’ shaft.

“Fuckk.” Remus cries as he watches Sirius and you licking his cock up.

“Yes, I am.” You answered Sirius as you reached for his cock. Sirius moans with Remus’s cock in his mouth when you jerk him off. Remus grabs a hold of Sirius’ dark curls, holding him in place as he starts to thrust upwards in his warm mouth.

“Pads! Please.” Remus begs, pleads for him to make him cum. You can hear Remus is close, you push yourself up and watch Sirius gag on Remus’ length. You crawl up to Remus, sitting next to him, rubbing his chest as you watch the show. Sirius’ cheeks are sunken in, his hands holding on to Remus’ thighs.

Leaning over to kiss Remus, you held his face.

“Cum down his throat.” You repeat it softly to him, edging him while kissing his neck. Nibbling on it as Remus blows his load down Sirius’s throat.

He chokes when he pulls away from Remus' cock, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sees a flash of white, it’s your hair. Looking up, he sees you staring at him with Remus. Sirius crawls to you both. You welcome that cummy kiss with pleasure. He leaves you out of breath and leans at Remus for a kiss. Remus, like you, enjoys the kiss not caring he was tasting his own cum. The three of you have shared each other, all three have come to love it. You look up at him, hands running up and down his stomach, you licked your lips at him. His chin and small beard he was trying to grow was damp. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide and the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Come over here, mon coeur.” Sirius says turning you over on your hands and knees.

Remus took a deep breath as he watches Sirius fucking you. You look so fucking pretty on your hands and knee. Sirius is pulling your hair as you hold the sheets under you. Sirius praises you as he holds your hip with one hand and the other in your hair pulling your head back. Remus shakes his head trying not to get hard again, it's difficult especially when you're loving being treated like that. You beg Sirius to fuck you harder, calling him Padfoot makes him go faster and you're holding on for dear life on Remus’ pillow. Your breasts bouncing every time he thrust from behind frantically.

Remus can see your eyes roll into the back of your head when Sirius lets your hair go and grabs your hips with both hands, you can't hold yourself up. Chest to the mattress and ass in the air, you took everything he gave you. Your movement changed the angles he was thrusting, it made Sirius moan loudly. The tip of his fat cock hits that sweet spot in you every time. You call Sirius name when you cum on his cock, he feels it. He keeps thrusting into your dripping pussy, your slick is dripping down the sheets on Remus’ bed. Sirius holds you tight as he comes, he looks over at Remus who was enjoying the show. His hands under his head, he had a leg over the other as he watched.

“That was hot, Padfoot and Cariad.” Remus looks down at you as you shut your eyes enjoying the pleasure you had just endured. Sirius is gentle with you when he pulls out, all he wants to do is slip inside of your warm cunt. He sees, you are trying to catch your breath. He rubs your bare back, gently scratches it, making goosebumps raise up on your skin. Sirius drops down next to you, his hand never leaving your body. He feels Remus move closer to you too. Sirius lays on his back, with one hand he moves the sweaty strands of his hair out of his face as he stares up at the ceiling. He listens to Remus talk to you in whispers. After a minute, Remus gets up to the bathroom. Sirius looks over at you to see you laying down on your back as well.

Sirius does not hesitate to bring a hand on your cheek, cupping it warmly, He rubs your cheek with his thumb.

“Moony, getting you water?” Sirius asks you. Nodding to him, he leans over to grab Remus' wand from the night stand. Without a word, the blanket on his bed across the room flew over. Remus walks back to the bed with a glass of water in his hand. The blanket passes him and covers you completely.

“Thank you, Si.” You said softly to him. Sirius just nods and watches you sit up grabbing the water from Remus.

“Thank you.” Remus nods at you as you give him back a half empty cup. Sirius shakes his head at Remus who offers him some.

“I missed this.” You said after a while Remus laid down next to you.

“The fucking?” Sirius asks and you roll your eyes at him playfully.

“No, the fucking is nice but I meant laying together in one bed.” You told them feeling Remus’ hand on your leg.

“Haven't done it in a while.” Remus comments agreeing with you. Everyone has been busy, since it's their last year.

“After this year, we will do this more. Spending time together, sleeping in the same bed. Right?” Sirius asks you since he knows what Remus will say. They had spoken about this with you. They wanted you to stay with them in Remus’ family cottage after school. You looked over at Sirius and nodded at him.

“Yes, after school. Just us.” You told him then looked up at the ceiling. Leaving your family wouldn't be difficult. You didn’t accept their pure-blood ways. You didn't give a damn about it, you started to fight with them about the subject especially since one of the men you love is a half-blood. You would miss Lucius that was for sure even if your brother was a bit supercilious. He had saved you under the hands of your condescending parents. The smacks that were about to be given to you, he would take them instead when he was around. Lucius would understand why you left. He has too, once he sees his little sister happy, truly happy. He will understand. You long to be with Remus and Sirius in that cottage. You smile up at the ceiling when you feel Sirius and Remus lean their head against your shoulders.

Enjoying their embrace and their warmth, reality hits back. Reality of going back to your dorm, going back to class, going back to pretending that you didn't know them. It was your doing, Remus and Sirius wanted everyone to know but you and Sirius knew that being from a pure-blood wizarding family that supports who shall not be named have many advantages of getting rid of people, it took time for Remus to process it.

“If something bad were to happen to you because of me?” You told Remus who was in tears that you had rejected the idea of telling people about the three of you.

“I would kill myself. I’ll do it after killing them.” You admitted to him and Remus and Sirius saw that fiery look in your eyes. You weren't bluffing.

“Oh baby, if they hurt you or even Sirius.” You whispered to Remus. “I’ll burn that fucking manor to the ground.”

Remus understood at the end. He did, he understood it was for his safety and after what Sirius told him about children suffering under their parent’s hands who were pure-bloods. Remus played the part and once in a while he would find himself staring at you as you passed him by the corridor. Usually Peter and Frank will drag him out of his trance. They will tease him wanting to know who had caught the eyes of Remus Lupin. Remus bites his tongue to not say your name.

“Why were you so late, Si?” You asked Sirius after a few moments of silence. Sirius had turned to his side, with a hand under his head, holding it up. He used the other hand to draw random shapes on the bare skin of your hip.

“James was trying to comfort Lily. She’s been getting bullied by a couple of Ravenclaws lately. The bullying has gotten worse since she became head girl. They were calling her a mudblood. She’s still not used to that name.” You roll your eyes at that term, such a ugly word.

You listened as Sirius continued to explain how James asked him to stay with him for a little while until they tried to calm Lily down from her sobbing. You didn’t say anything as you felt Remus grabbed your arm draping it over his body. He kissed your hand as Sirius kept talking. Sirius' fingers started to play with the ends of your hairs, twirling the white platinum hair around his finger. You noticed the worried look on Remus and Sirius’ face. You didn't like seeing your boyfriends like this but those were one of the many things you loved about them. They loved their friends so much.

“What are their names?” You asked Sirius. He hums while he thinks. “James only said the main one was Cassie. That's the leader.”

“I hope Lily feels better.” You said then looked over at the small clock Remus had in the night stand by the bed.

“Fuck! My last class will start soon.” You exclaimed as you pushed the blanket off your body and jumped out of the bed.

“I didn’t get to spend time with you though!” Sirius pouts with a groan as Remus pushes himself up to sit. Remus leans down to grab his boxers while you grab your bra.

“Next time, let's use magic to take off our clothes away and have it neatly folded in one place.” You told them as you found your underwear near a case with James Potter's name written on it.

“That's no fun.” Sirius said as he and Remus stared at your bare ass while you bent down to pick up your socks.

You just shake your head as you sit on the edge of the bed. You hear Remus call your name, looking over he has your sweater and skirt in one hand.

“Oh, thank you.” You tell him as he makes you stand between his legs and buttons your skirt for you. Sirius grabbed your white button up shirt near him off the floor when he saw you walking to the other side of the room for your tie.

“Thanks.” You mumbled kissing Sirius’ on the cheek. “You can always skip it. More time we can spend together.” Sirius said as he watched you get dressed.

“Soon you will. Don’t worry.” You fixed your skirt as you walked over towards the pouting man and kissed him on the lips. Sirius moaned in your mouth as you deepened the kiss. You gave him one last kiss to get him through the day. Pulling away, Sirius tries to go back for another kiss but you shake your head fixing the collar of your shirt.

“I love you.” You tell Sirius and his eyes grow large for a second and a coy smile appears on his handsome face.

“You can't leave this room now. Say it again.” Sirius said, making you laugh but you repeat it. You say you love him and he kisses you before saying back to you.

“It’s getting late. If I get another tardiness, my parents will have my ass.” You sighed walking away from Sirius to the bed where you saw your shoes. Remus grabs your bag from the floor.

“You don’t love me anymore, mon coeur.” Sirius dramatically said as he plopped himself back on the bed like a starfish. Remus walks with you to the door.

“See you later.” He says as he fixes your tie before leaning down to give you a goodbye kiss. You can see Remus was trying to say something. You tilt your chin upwards looking at him for a second.

“I love you.” Remus says softly as he leans against the door frame. You smile at him, he is just the cutest.

“I love you too.” You said going up to your tiptoes to kiss him. Remus watches you hurry down the stairs with a smile on his face.

“She said it.” Remus shuts the door when he hears Sirius. Looking back, he sees Sirius smiling wide as he stares up at the ceiling.

“She did.” Remus said feeling happy inside. Sirius props himself up on his elbows and looks at Remus.

“I love you, Moony.” Sirius says, as Remus walk over towards him. Sirius lays back down on the bed with Remus over him. Remus cages Sirius' head with his arms, Sirius welcomes his weight over him. Wrapping his arms around his waist, Remus leans down and stops just a few centimeters away from Sirius’ lips.

“I love you too, Padfoot.”

“Kiss me.” Sirius whispers to Remus.

It was morning and they were in the great hall for breakfast. James was next to Lily who was still quiet after yesterday's events. Remus and Sirius shared a concerned look before trying to get her to talk, asking her about a muggle book she was reading a week ago. While Peter sat near Sirius, he munched on his bacon and eggs. The table didn’t notice three girls walking towards them.

“Look what we have here girls, the little mudblood.” Lily looked down at her plate when the voice came behind her.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Cassie.” James said, defending his girlfriend. He stared daggers at the Ravenclaw girl as he stood up from his seat. The brunette rolled her eyes at James and ignored him before leaning down close to Lily while her two other friends stayed behind.

“Can't fight your own battle. You fucking filthy mud-.” Cassie never got to finish her sentence, Lily flinched when all of sudden the girl over her shoulder was pushed down on the Gryffindor’s table. Her head banged on the table, making everyone jump.

“Oh shit.” Peter yelled as Sirius and Remus looked at you with wide eyes as you pushed the Cassie's head down on the table. Making her yelp in pain, you grabbed one of her arms twisting behind her back as you continued to push her head against the table.

“You like calling people by that name?! Say it again I dare you.” You hissed, grabbing a fist full of hair and banging her head again on the table making the plates and cups jump up.

"Say it again!" You jeer at Cassie. Remus looks over when he remembers Cassie wasn't alone, about to get up from his seat in case, Cassie's friends fight you but he sat back down when he saw a bunch of Slytherin’s girls surrounding them, trapping the two girls. He had seen a few of them before hanging out with you; he knew they were your friends. Sirius noticed a group of students from House Slytherin near the teacher's table speaking to them. One had even looked over their shoulder before quickly drawing the teacher’s attention back to them and it hits Sirius like a ton of bricks, this whole thing was planned. If anyone was staring at him, they could see his pupils tuning into hearts when he looked back at you.

“Wait! Wai-” Lily stood up from her seat when Cassie cried out. James was quick to pull Lily close to him, taking a step back to see how this would unfold.

Hushing Cassie, you freed her arm and pressed the tip of your wand against her cheek as you continued to hold her head down. There was a group forming around the table as they watched you.

“Bother her again and I’ll make your life a living hell. I swear it.” You sneered at her as you banged her head again before freeing her when she yelled okay. You took a step back when Cassie slumped down to the floor. You rolled your eyes at the sight of her on the ground then looked up to see the redhead who was still being held by James.

Lily is filled with shocked and is fucking nervous. She knows who you are, she speaks to you with a shaky tone. “Thank you.”

You can feel your boyfriends’ eyes staring at you as you tilted your head at Lily getting a good look at the girl after she thanked you. She looked like a sweet girl and you can see why your boyfriends care about her. You wanted to laugh as she looked at you like you were her knight and shining armor but didn’t. Casting one last dirty look at Cassie below you looked at Lily.

“Let me know if anyone else bothers you.” You tell her then look down at Lily’s plate on the table. Remus swears he sees you peeking at him through your lashes as you grabbed a piece of bacon from her plate. Without a single word you turn around, taking a bite of the bacon. The other students standing around didn't have to be told to move, the moment they saw you walking, they parted like the red sea for you to pass. Remus and Sirius watched you walk out of the great hall with your friends following behind you.

“Fuck! Lily, how did you manage to get protection from a Slytherin?” James asked as he watched Cassie being helped up from her friends.

“Not just any Slytherin. Merlin! You got help from the Queen Bee.” Alice commented before turning back to her plate.

“I don’t know how. I had never spoken to her. I’m surprised she would even help me, a muggle-born like me.” Lily said as she sat back down to finish the rest of her breakfast.

“You think she knows who we are?” Peter asked around the table. James shrugs his shoulders at his friend but couldn’t help but smile when Lily started talking again.

Remus and Sirius shared a look once more before they went back to their breakfast not answering Peter. They didn’t ask for you to do anything for their dear friend, Lily. Their hearts did a flip in their chest of your selfless act. Remus is counting the days for this year to be over so all three of you can be together. Sirius is asking Alice for some parchment paper to write you a note. Sirius and Remus had to see you now, he is already making up excuses to tell Professor McGonagall on why they won't be going to class.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #sirius orion black #remus x sirius #remus x sirius x reader #remus x reader x sirius #throuple #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #lily evans #james potter #harry potter fanfiction

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floralpascal · 1 year

Text

Lines Crossed

Summary: Ghost realizes that he needs you more than he thought and makes a risky trip to your room while trying not to get caught.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship, Ghost realizing that he's absolutely whipped

A/N: The idea of Ghost being whipped just took over my mind and this is what came out. This was so much fun to write that I'm thinking about making this a mini series looking at various points in their relationship

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were lines Ghost didn’t cross.

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let himself care. And he sure as hell didn’t let himself need someone.

For you, though, he seemed to be willing to cross every single line imaginable whether he liked it or not. He had gotten involved, telling himself then that it was just a one-time thing. He would get his fill of you for a night and he would be done, finally able to get you off of his mind. But that hadn’t been how it had gone down. Having you once only let the hold you had on him dig in deeper, settling in his bones until he found himself in your bed again. And again.

With each secret night spent in your room or his, a shitty hotel or a secluded backroom, whatever this was with you pulled him deeper into the unknown. His thoughts drifted to you even when you weren’t in the room. He found himself being more protective of you in the field. He began to check in on you enough that Soap had finally said, “Styx will be fine, Ghost. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.” Soon, he had to finally admit that he had crossed the second line. He cared.

The third line…

Ghost groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. Staring into the darkness of his room for hours with sleep evading his grasp, he was starting to grow both restless and frustrated. Having trained himself to fall asleep under any conditions in order to scrape together any amount of sleep he could while in the field, his newfound difficulties falling asleep were an unwelcome surprise. It had plagued him for the last month, making him markedly more irritable - enough to draw the entire team’s attention. He had blown off Price when he had carefully broached the subject, asserting that there was nothing wrong at all. Lie.

It was your bloody fault. It was your face that kept him up at night in one way or another. It was the way you looked when your head was tipped back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you. It was the way you looked out in the field, your strong shoulders square and hard eyes trained forward as you held your gun and swept a building. It was your pained grimace as Ghost tried to stop the bleeding from the bullet you had taken to the stomach a year ago.

His head filled with a mix of scenes of bliss and scenes of horror, both of which you were the star of. Either way, it kept his brain whirring enough to ward away sleep. His mind was a whirlwind, fast and screaming and disorienting with the thought of you.

You were barely fifty meters away from him right now, your own room merely on the other side of the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was imagining walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. It was dumb and reckless and-

And the thought alone made him feel better.

The thought of your skin on his, your hands buried in his hair, and your mouth on his was like a forbidden salve to his irritation. Having you under him, so vibrant and alive, chased away all the scenes of you in danger that his mind seemed to love to conjure up these days.

Irrational thoughts plagued him now, too. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? Forget the fact that they were on a secure base or that he had seen you only hours earlier, it didn’t matter to Ghost’s brain in the dark like this. Though he logically knew that his thoughts were irrational figments of his overactive mind, his body didn’t seem to be getting the memo.

It was like he wasn’t convinced you were safe until he saw you himself. Until he felt the plush of your skin under his fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he grumbled, practically dumbfounded by his own decision, as he forcefully flung the covers from his body. He grabbed the balaclava from his nightstand, slipping the soft cloth over his face before throwing a random shirt over his bare torso.

The corridor was empty at this time of night, but Ghost stayed vigilant anyways. He crept toward your door, eyes on the other gray doors that housed the rest of the 141. He had never been this bold, this reckless, as to try to slip into your room when everyone was asleep in their own rooms right beside yours, usually limiting your nights together to when the other guys went out to a pub or split up to go on leave. If anyone caught him - your superior - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop.

With one last look at the empty, monochrome hallway, he found the handle to your door and slipped soundlessly into your room.

Despite the fact that he had been quiet, you seemed to sense the intrusion. Your eyes snapping open, you pushed your top half up from the pillow, your body tense like you were ready for a fight. You leaned forward and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Your eyes landed on Ghost and he watched as you relaxed again, your sleep-heavy eyes softening as they held his gaze.

“Ghost…” you whispered, clearly as astounded by his presence in your room as he was.

Everything in him screamed that this was a bad idea. That he should go back to his room before he made any more bad decisions. But then you smiled at him, easy and warm and inviting. No bad decision could look like that.

“You okay?” You asked, voice light and laced with sleep. It was concern, though, that sat behind your words. Concern for him, genuine and raw.

Ghost felt something in him crack at that question. Something he knew he wouldn’t come back from.

With two quick strides across your room, he crossed that third line.

In the pale yellow light of the lamp, he pulled the balaclava from his head, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He was already climbing above you in the bed as your eyes snapped wide and you scanned his face for the first time, taking in his features above you. Him. You finally saw him.

Ghost’s breathing picked up as you lifted a hand to his cheek and ran a thumb over his cheek. He had wondered what you would look like if you ever saw him without the mask. Somehow, he had never never expected that you would look at him so tenderly. It seemed wrong that anyone could look at someone as cold and hardened as Ghost like this. But, fuck, it was doing things to him.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he slammed his lips into yours. You returned the kiss with a fire that made everything worth it. The blood. The explosions. The secrecy. The sleepless nights.

“Am now,” he mumbled against your lips. He couldn’t say anything else, he could only let the fire he had for you take over and burn everything left in him.

You melted into his affections, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders as he stripped your mouth bare. The little sounds you made spurred him on, making him feel better than he had the entire night. Forget sleep, he could live solely fueled by this.

Then, your hands slid up into his hair, tugging at the mask-flattened strands. A groan fell from Ghost’s lips as he started to fumble for the hem of your shirt, needing you freed from it immediately. He needed to feel you against him, as close as you possibly could be. Needed you wrapped around him in every possible way.

Need. Need. Need. It was a terrifying, unstoppable feeling.

As you both discarded your clothes, your hands desperately searching for skin, Ghost couldn’t help but think of how apt your nickname was. Styx. A mythological river, threatening to pull him under, the waters that he was drowning in also making him damn near invulnerable to all else in the world, save for his one spot of vulnerability. You.

The Styx was believed to be at the edge of the earth and the underworld, you had told him once. Being with you felt kind of like that, he supposed. Like he was at the edge of reality and the mythological. Something he never thought he would have compared to the reality of you underneath him.

Your lips wiped the fucked up worries from his mind, your hands grounding him in the raging current.

You let out a moan as Ghost slipped two fingers into you, trying to get you ready for him as quickly as possible tonight. He clamped a large hand over your mouth as he started to pump his fingers in and out.

“Keep quiet, love,” he purred into your ear, knowing exactly what his low, gravelly voice did to you. Your fingers came to clamp down on his shoulder in your desperation. “We don’t want any interruptions.”

You nodded, your eyes locking with his for a moment before they fluttered closed. He watched you like this, lost in bliss, and tried to commit the image to memory. He would store it away for another cold, lonely night when he couldn’t be here with you, when sleep evaded him.

He so desperately wanted to hear you - to hear the way he could make you scream out his name - but he knew it wasn’t possible right now. Your muffled groans and the way you tipped your head back as he curled his fingers into you would have to suffice.

“So wet for me, love,” he whispered into your ear as he increased his pace, feeling how close you were to the edge as your velvety walls fluttered around him. “Were you thinking about me?”

You jerked your head in a nod, his hand stifling another choked moan from your lips. The sincerity in your movement sent his ego soaring in a way he had never experienced before. Fucking hell, he had never experienced anything like this before. You had a frightening power over him, a grip on his very being that was so deep he didn’t think he could detach it and still survive.

It was terrifying and thrilling and oh-so wonderful.

You shattered under his touch, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you rode out the waves of pleasure he was bringing you. Your hand grasped at his forearm, searching for anything that could steady you.

When you came down and released him from your grip, your eyes fluttered back open. Through your haze, your eyes found his, a want deeper than just lust pouring from your expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fucking needed you.

Ghost tore his hand away from your mouth before he crashed his lips to yours again, all heat and fervor. You met him halfway, pushing up to run a hand through his hair. You had done this before in the dark, but it felt even more intense now that you knew what it looked like. What he looked like. You weren’t kissing a faceless man, you were kissing him.

“Simon…” you whined against his lips. “Please.”

Years ago, when you had first met, he wouldn’t have believed that he would ever hear you like this. Usually when you talked, your voice was strong. Unwavering. Fit for a battlefield. To hear you beg for him like this, your words strained, broken, and laced with desire, was something reverent.

He buried his cock in you in one smooth stroke, his lips still on yours. It was still a stretch to fit him, but it was always a stretch. From the very beginning his pace was brutal, his hips slamming into yours over and over. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise so he could hold you in place while he hit the spot deep inside you that always had you breaking for him. He knew he had found it when your legs boxed his hips in and your hips jerked up to meet his thrusts. Your heels rested on his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper into you.

You were squeezing him so tight as he pounded into your sweet cunt that for the first time all night, his head was clear. All that existed was you and the growing heat in his stomach.

Ghost dropped his head down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft, delicate flesh at the base of it as one of his hands released its hold on your hip to find your clit. He knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge again, exactly how hard to press, how tight of circles to draw.

“F-fuck, Simon, I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered out, unable to finish your own sentence. But he knew. He could feel how close you were, the tension drawn tight that was about to snap.

His own rhythm was growing sloppy, the pleasure about to take him under. With a few more calculated thrusts, you came once again, your whole body spasming around him. Your hands clawed at his back as your pussy squeezed him so hard it took him with you. A zap of electricity raced down his spine as he released into you, hot and thick. He fucked it into you, so deep he was sure you would still feel him at breakfast tomorrow morning.

He was so fucked. He had crossed every line and now there was no turning back. There was no stopping this anymore. He needed you. Maybe it was wrong to hope that you needed him just as much, but he did.

Ghost panted against your collar, letting the soft, methodical way you drew circles on his scalp pull him back to reality. Back to you.

He pulled out and rolled over onto the bed, pulling you with him. After taking a few minutes to clean you up, he pulled you to lay on top of him. With his arms around you and the feel of your steady breathing against his chest, sleep finally found him and pulled him under.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley fanfic #my writing

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meatonfork · 1 year

Note

I wonder how platonic task force 141 would react to reader sealing a wound with a heated knife or just a heated piece of metal like a total badass.

Total Badass

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pairing: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: usual cod violence, description of wound, vomit

summary: grim gets injured, and instead of asking for help, they fix it themselves

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you didn’t think you’d ever be in this position, honestly. your arm had a pretty deep gash wound in it, and you could thank a knife for that.

you had been caught up with the enemy. them catching you off guard, and slicing your arm open before you got the final blow on them.

you and the rest of the task force were holed up in a warehouse while hiding. unable to get to the safe house without being spotted in the daylight. you had to wait til it was dark to move.

you sat with your back against the wall, clutching your arm. the wound stung something awful, and you were getting lightheaded from the blood loss. it was deep, and you didn’t have time to stitch it back up.

blood trickled from beneath your fingers and hit the ground in a steady stream. a large puddle surrounded your boots, staining the leather. your shirt was ruined now, and you didn’t bother rolling the sleeve up. tearing it off instead.

“shhhit.” your teeth were clenched as you put more pressure on the wound. brows furrowing in pain as you did.

you released your arm and stuck your hand in your pocket, pulling out a lighter before reaching for your knife.

“grim, you okay? what are ya doin’?” soap cut himself off as he watched you pull out the weapon.

with gritted teeth, you answered your fellow sergeant, “don’ have time to stitch- gotta cauterize it.”

this bought the attention of the others, their heads whipping in your direction.

“what?” price stalked over.

“i don’t have time! i’ll bleed out, it’s too deep.” you panted out between grunts of pain.

“do you want one of us to do it?” ghost stepped into your vision. the only giveaway of his concern was his unconcealed eyes going soft.

“no, go keep watch. i’ll be fine.”

“alright..” he walked off, but not too far. he wanted to be there if you needed him.

with your injured arm, you held up the knife. using your good hand to flick the lighter on, heating up the blade.

the smell of blood and lighter fluid flooded your nostrils as the blade turned red.

“ah shit. okay, okay. here we go.”

you made sure the blade was the right color before asking soap for his belt.

he tore it off, no hesitation, and stuffed it between your teeth when you opened your mouth.

“i need to bite on it, or everyone within a five mile radius is going to hear me.”

you didn’t waste another second before setting the blade in your good hand and against your skin.

the pain was a blinding white as your screams were muffled against the belt.

burning flesh filled the room along with your noises of discomfort. your vision went blurry and your body was rigid in pain. nausea overtook your body as you held the blade against your burning flesh.

“holy shit!” soap reached forward to steady you with a hand on your shoulder.

“fuck!” you spit the belt out, panting. “god damn, that fucking hurts.” tears sprung to your eyes, slowly dropping down your cheeks.

you turned your body from soap before you retched up all your contents. his hand falling to your back.

you took a few deep breaths as your vision started to come back, leaning against the wall again.

a hand on your face made your eyes shoot up.

“yer not gonna pass out are ya?” soap’s voice was distant.

“mmmm no promises.” your eyes fluttered a bit.

“shit! price! get o’er here.” he all but shouted to your captain in panic.

price darted forward, placing a hand on your other shoulder.

“grim, hey.” he snapped his fingers in your face. “gotta look at me, kid. alright? you’re good.”

his kind eyes were filled with panic. you tried. you tried so hard to keep your eyes open. the ringing in your ears became louder, and your vision went blurry again. you tried to say something, but eventually it all faded to black.

———

your body being jostled around woke you quickly. a pressure was against your face and under your thighs.

slowly opening your eyes, you see you’re outside. the forest dark and the moon offered little light.

you let out a small groan, looking left and right. your head felt heavy, and your stomach rolled from the movement of being carried on uneven ground.

the first person to come into view was gaz. he held a soft smile while his brows furrowed in concern.

“hey! you’re up. how you feelin’?” his voice was soft. you didn’t know if it was because you just woke up, or if it was because you were still running from the enemy.

“like shit.” you all but groaned out.

“figures. that was some tough shit, grim.” a voice from beneath you grunted out. ghost turned his head to look back at you.

“yeah, that didn’t feel too great, not gonna lie.”

“let’s just get to the safe house, and we’ll look over it, yeah?”

“yeah. wake me when we’re there.”

“deal.”

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a/n: i hope you enjoyed :] <3

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constantmourning · 8 months

Text

Choke Me

Summary: The men of TF 141 figure out you like being choked.

Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI! Choking, not too descriptive but still very much 18+!

A/N: GN!Reader for this one! Also did this on mobile at work, so it's not beta read. Sorry for any mistakes dhsbbs Let me know do you want one of these for like Konig or Alejandro or anyone else!

It had been a joke. Really. It was harmless. You got bratty when your boyfriend was upset with you. "What? Are you gonna spank me?" You questioned him. The look you received was one of shock, from everyone. One of your friends, who was also part of Task Force 141 took it into his owns hands to help you handle the situation. "I think you should choke them." He snorted. Your head snapped towards him. He continued, "Actually don't do that either... They would love that too."

While it had started as a joke. It surely would not end as one.

Captain John Price: He is in shock! How did he not know? Is a little confused on if it's really a joke so he asks about it later in the bedroom. Voice all husky and full of lust. Says he was gonna spank you, but could definitely choke you if that's what you're into. Even if you're being a brat, you deserve to get what you want after all. He wraps his hand around your throat while he fucks you and the way you come undone immediately is very hot. Price is very good at what he does. He is very skilled with his hands. You learn that quick.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick: Is probably slightly apprehensive when it comes to this tbh. At least the most apprehensive out of the bunch imo. Literally does not want to harm you in anyway, especially on accident. He asks about it and when you nonchalantly tell him you do like that he does want to try it, but is very careful with it. "Remember our safe word?" He asks, you sitting in his lap. When you nod and repeat it to him, he gives you a nod back. You are in his lap, riding him, when his hand finds a home around your throat. The way you immediately come undone, your eyes rolling back, clenching around him?? He is hooked.

John 'Soap' Mactavish: is a little freak in the bedroom. But didn't know you liked being choked. Is immediately up for trying it with you. He is tied as the least afraid of asking about it when you get back to the bedroom. "Is it true? Ya like being choked?" You nod. He is so down for trying literally anything. So as soon as you give the 'okay', he is on it. He has you pinned to the mattress, railing you, his hand slides up your chest and grabs for your throat. You react immediately. Mouth agape and mind blank. The way your whining and mumbling has Soap whipped for sure. Will definitely be going that again.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: Is surprised he didn't know you liked being choked. Like genuinely. Y'all aren't very vanilla in the bedroom, so that going under his radar was shocking. Is tied with Soap on who's least likely afraid to ask about the remark. Would spank you for being a brat earlier, and ask about the choking thing while spanking you. Simon is Very consent oriented so he will be getting all the consent before doing Anything. But as soon as he is given the okay? You are pinned to the wall, him plowing into you, his hand against your throat. He can't help but tell you how good you're being for him, causing you to absolutely lose it. Simon, like the other guys, is most definitely looking forward to more of that.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap smut #simon riley smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz smut #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #john price smut #cod smut #cod x reader #cod mw2

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 4 months

Text

Toxicity or Tough Love?

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: A quick fic of the realities of being with Carmy Berzatto. Nobody is perfect and relationships can be messy even with the best intention.

Warnings: Cursing, drug abuse and toxic environment, fluff

"Why do you do this shit every time." Carmy exclaimed

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you stacked dirty dishes from both of you just finishing dinner.

You could feel his glare on you and he leaned up against the kitchen counter both of his hands resting on the edge.

The toxicity that raised in your relationship from time to time wasn't anything new. Everyone knew that both you and Carmy fought too much. Arguments would get heated, and hateful words would get thrown around, but neither of you would walk away.

"Carm, you're over reactin-"

"Don't pull that Carm shit on me" He spat, bringing his hands up to his tossed hair.

"He needed money. What do you want me to do? Not help him?" You reached over grabbing more dish soap as the warm water run.

"Yes. He's a junkie" He snapped.

You froze, you continued to look down at the at the sponge in your hand, feeling your grip of the glass in your hand tighten.

"Don't say that." You gritted

"It's true and you know it" Carmy whipped back.

"He's clean," you said sternly slowly, starting to wash the glass again.

"Bullshit. How long?" You heard him question.

"A month," you said confidently.

You heard a snort from behind you.

And with a blink of an eye, you swung around, flinging the glass at him.

He dodged it.

The pieces of glass traveling across the room made you come to reality on what you did.

"What the actual fuck" Carmy shouted at you looking down at the shards of glass surrounding both of you.

You didn't notice your heavy breathing and saw that the glass wasn't in your hand anymore.

"Get the fuck out" You said as calmly as possible.

He didn't move.

"Get the FUCK out!" You screamed looking at him and throwing the kitchen sponge at him.

He stumbled out, glancing at you pissed off before leaving the kitchen and slamming door behind him.

You stood by the sink, looking out the window, feeling your chest heave with heavy mournful cries coming from your mouth. Your shoulders shook with the sorrow you felt in your body. You couldn't handle not being able to deal with your brother and his addiction.

He was your brother and all you wanted to do was help him get better. Trust him, but you should know by now that's not how it worked.

You felt the tears rolling down your eyes. Finally acknowledging that the money you gave him wasn't for what he said. It wasn't for rent.

Carmy was right.

"Baby" You felt a hand wrap around your waist. Carmy rested his forehead on your shoulder, feeling his presence behind you.

You immediately turned around and cried into his shoulder. You felt his hand stroke your hair. His gent touch calming you.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that" He whispered, he captured your face in his hands and looked at you with his doughy blue eyes.

"Shhh, it's okay" He comforted you bringing you back to his shoulder and nuzzling his head into neck.

"I-I'm sorry for throwing a glass at you" You sniffled pulling away and looking down at the ground covered in broken glass.

You looked back up at him. You felt him lean in, brushing his lips against yours and giving you a light kiss. You brought your hands up, twisting his curls in between your fingers. His hands resting on your lower back, holding you against him.

You both pulled away and hugged each other with his arms resting on your shoulders and yours around his waist.

Both you surrounded by broken glass.

Masterlist of other fics

#fanfic #fluff #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmy x reader #chicago #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear fx

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discordantwritings · 5 months

Text

Our Precious Assistant Pt. 3 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn!afab reader, sub!reader, sub!Buggy, dom!Mihawk, dom!Crocodile, exhibitionism, vouyerism, cockwarming, PiV sex, oral sex, mastrubation, inappropriate use of Buggy’s devil fruit powers, creampie

WC: 4.3k

Summary: You get some much needed TLC and start your new work routine. Which, of course, involves some fooling around at work.

Note: I mean it was only a matter of time before Buggy’s dick being detachable was going to come up. I hope you guys like the dynamics in this one with not everyone participating at once but everyone still getting some love.

You realize you’re sore before you realize you’re awake. Slowly remembering the events of last night and earlier it all makes sense. Buggy’s arms are wrapped tight around your midsection and you have just enough room to twist around in his grasp.

His face paint had gotten washed off at some point and you can’t help but admire his features without the layer of makeup. Tracing your fingers over his jaw you feel the stubble there, coarse but the sensation isn’t bad.

Your touch stirs Buggy awake and without opening his eyes he pull you in tighter.

“Just five more minutes…” He mumbles, his face buried in your chest.

“Buggy it’s late we should get up.” You press a kiss to the top of his head and push him, but he’s stronger than you.

“Mmmm but I like where I am.” He nuzzles in and you feel that stubble rub against you.

“But I need to take a shower or something.” At this Buggy perks up, withdrawing his face from your boobs. “Croc has the best bathtub.”

So that’s how you ended up soaking with Buggy in the largest bathtub you’ve ever seen. It comfortably fits both of you and you’re pretty sure one or two more people could squeeze in here. Despite how much space you could have you’re right next to Buggy, leaning into his shoulder while you let the warm water soothe your body. Buggy has put heaps of bath salts and other soaps into the bath and the fragrances nearly put you back to sleep.

“Next time we should wait until we aren’t already bruised to get in trouble.” You muse.

“Sorry to break the news but you’re never not going to be bruised. Both of them love marking their territory.” Buggy leans and grabs some shampoo from the side of the bath. You take the bottle from him and he shoots you a confused look.

“Let me wash your hair.” You offer.

His eyes light up and you can’t help but giggle as he eagerly repositions himself in front of you. You take your time with his long blue hair and revel in the intimacy of the moment. When you’re done he returns the favor and you feel the remaining tension leave your body as he scrubs shampoo into your scalp. The both of your are just as languid finishing bathing and you don’t hop out until the bath has gone cold.

It takes a bit to get dressed again since your clothes had been thrown to every corner of the room but you manage to get dressed- well, most of the way.

“Buggy? Have you seen my underwear?” You call out, your check under the bed unsuccessful.

“Me? No. I mean I don’t think you came in wearing any.” His words have you immediately whipping around to look at him.

The edge of your underwear hangs out of his pocket while he wears a shit eating grin. You sigh and slip on your pants knowing you won’t win this battle.

“Let’s go get some dinner.” It’s been way too long since you last ate and after all your body has been through you need to recharge.

“Let’s get Croc and Mihawk one of them always pays for the good stuff.” Buggy takes your arm in his as you walk out of the bedroom and to the offices.

You find Mihawk and Crocodile in their respective offices and it’s doesn’t take much convincing to drag them out to dinner. True to Buggy’s predictions you get a secluded VIP table at a restaurant where prices aren’t even listed on the menu.

You sat next to Crocodile while Buggy and Mihawk sat across from you. They caught you up on what you missed for the day and you were surprised at how mundane it all was. This is just the way your life is now, catching up on the day with three of the most dangerous pirates in the world over dinner.

Crocodile’s large hand was on your thigh all dinner. Surprisingly it never drifted too far in he just left it resting on the top of your thigh, only occasionally squeezing. The touch kept you grounded as you chatted easily through dinner with your new partners. When going back home was brought up at the end of the night you hesitated.

“I think I’m going back to my place tonight.” When Buggy looked particularly dejected you elaborated a bit. “I can’t come into work tomorrow wearing the clothes I wore yesterday.”

“Of course you can. Anyone who even looks at you wrong will get a limb cut off.” Buggy says simply, but thankfully Mihawk is the voice of reason.

“No it makes sense, I’m sure you need some time to yourself after all of this.” Mihawk’s words calm you down, making you more confident in your choice.

“But I think I will make sure to pack an overnight back to have at the office. Just in case.” That comment gets Buggy’s mood up again, and his smile is infectious.

Dinner ends on a high note and by the time you leave the sky is dark and the wind chills you a bit, you weren’t dressed for todays weather. You’re about to excuse yourself to power walk home when a heavy coat drapes over your shoulders.

The thick smell of cigar smoke and fur tickling your neck means you don’t even have to turn to see that it’s Crocodile’s coat on your back. You pull it tighter around you, practically swimming in the dark fabric.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You say awkwardly, unsure how goodbyes work in your new situation.

All three of them look at you a bit confused and you can’t help but be confused back.

“We are escorting you home.” Mihawk says like it’s an obvious fact and he takes your arm as he walks by you and in the direction of your apartment.

“Yeah, duh. Can’t have our star walking alone on the streets at night.” Buggy is on your other side, unattached hands gesturing.

You don’t have to look behind you to know Crocodile is bringing up the rear, his imposing presence tingling on your back.

Buggy fills most of the walk home with crazy stories that you’re not sure are true but you enjoy none the less. You’re at your door before you know it and Buggy pulls you off of Mihawk and into a big hug.

“I’m so happy you’re with me.” There’s a beat before he corrects himself. “Us.”

You hug him back and as you pull away you press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy too.”

Someone must be glaring at him because Buggy shrinks away to let the other two come closer. Mihawk lightly presses against your arm and you turn to face him.

“Goodnight darling.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and places a quick kiss to your lips before waiting further away with Buggy.

You shrug off Crocodile’s jacket and offer it to him. He pauses a second before taking it and draping it over his arm.

“Thank you. For everything.” You say, smiling up at him.

“We are just getting started.” He places a kiss to your forehead. “We will see you tomorrow.”

You can feel the blush on your cheeks from all of the sweet gestures as you wave at the three of them before slinking back into your apartment. A wide smile never left your face as you went to bed, excited for what life has in store for you.

Life changed but life stayed the same. Work still had to be done and they were still your bosses but of course none of them let that stop their affections. Hands on your back and shoulders as they passed by your desk, quick kisses when they got in for the day. You have to admit you’ve never been more motivated to do your work when the reward is getting a kiss.

But of course not all of their actions were so chaste. You would’ve thought Buggy would be the worst offender of dragging you off to fool around at work but it was far and away Crocodile. Being called into his office to help with paperwork always ended up with you in a compromising position- but you weren’t complaining.

“Sir- Mihawk is expecting a report-“

“Hawkeyes can wait.” You felt the low rumble of his voice throughout your body as you sat in his lap at his desk. Your chest pressed to his as you rested your head on his shoulder. Seeing you from above the desk this might have been a cute scene, you sitting with him as he worked on his paperwork. But below the desk your boss’ pants were open just enough so he could be inside you while he worked.

You had been sitting like this for an hour now, maybe more, warming his cock while you struggled not to move. Your thighs ached from being in this position and slick dripped down onto Crocodile’s lap. You’d be concerned about ruining his incredibly expensive pants if you could form coherent thoughts. The fullness you’ve been experiencing, the ache, being on edge for so long, it caused your head to empty into just a buzz. You had only remembered Mihawk when you glanced down at your watch and realized just how long you had been in this position.

Your arms were latched around your boss’ neck and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. You focused on your breathing and keeping your body relaxed- a feat that had gotten much easier as time went on with the tension in your body unable to hold itself for so long. In the back of your mind you wonder if that’s what Crocodile likes about this- having you completely docile and submissive- wearing you down to just your base instincts. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit you like this too. Not having to think or move and just existing in the moment is a kind of peace you didn’t think you would find sitting on Crocodile’s dick.

A knock on the door sends a small wave of panic through your body as you sit up at the noise- a mistake. The movement sends a fresh wave of pleasure over your over sensitive body and you bite your tongue to stifle a moan. Crocodile doesn’t make any moves but you can tell it effected him by the way his cock throbs inside you.

“Who is it?” Crocodile’s tone is short and you can tell he’s on the verge of anger.

“It’s me wondering what you’ve done with our assistant.” Mihawk’s monotone voice carries through the large wooden door and you can feel Crocodile relax under you.

“Come in and see.”

You know turning and looking to see Mihawk would garner disapproval from Crocodile so you stay still, hyper focusing on the noise to piece together what is happening behind you back. The door creaks open and you hear Mihawk’s boots click a few times on the floor before there’s a long pause.

“Shut the door.” Crocodile seems unbothered now, continuing to file through reports.

The door closes and you hear Mihawk slowly walking closer. Your heartbeat quickens as you feel his eyes on you, burning into your back. Tilting your head you look out and eagerly wait for Mihawk to come into your range of vision.

“I have to say that’s not a bad position for them.” Mihawk finally speaks, probably at the side of the desk just out of your sight.

“On that we agree. I think this is where they should be all the time, keeping me warm is a very important job.” Crocodile’s words send shivers down your spine and you can’t help the whiny moan that bubbles in your throat.

“Oh and they like it so much.” Mihawk’s voice has a teasing tilt to it as he finally slides into your vision. He’s leaning forward so his face is level with yours and his piercing eyes travel over your face, pupils dilated with hunger.

“How long have you been like this?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know… hour? More?” Your voice is breathy, needy.

“You like being senseless on his cock?” Mihawk presses his face close, forehead touching yours.

“Fuck- yes.” Your eyes are screwed shut and you feel Mihawk’s breath on your face.

You feel Crocodile’s chuckle. “Keep talking to them, I can feel how much they like it.”

Mihawk finally closes the gap and your kiss is all needy tongue and teeth as an hour of patience is broken. You push up to try and deepen the kiss but you’re promptly pulled back down by Crocodile’s hand at your waist.

“Don’t think you’re done here.” His voice is stern but you can hear arousal creeping into the edges of his tone.

Mihawk breaks away and you whine as you watch him walk away. You’re confused only for a second until you hear the drag of one of the other chairs in the room coming to sit next to Crocodile’s large office chair. Mihawk sits down next to the two of you and with his legs spread wide you can see his erection straining against his black pants.

“How long you going to keep them like this?” The swordsman asks.

“What, you want a turn?” Crocodile responds, putting down his pen and piling up some of the papers.

“No. Just wanted to know if the show was going to get exciting anytime soon.” His disinterested words didn’t hold any weight when he was unbuckling his pants.

“Seems our assistant isn’t the only needy one here. What do you say sweetheart? You ready to put on a show for Mihawk?” Crocodile lightly pushes you so you’re sitting up, face to face with him.

“Yes sir.” You say unabashedly needy.

“That’s my angel.” He mutters to you before finally kissing you. Just like with Mihawk it’s heated but he’s much more controlled- the teeth are precise as he bites your lower lip while his hand grips your hip.

You grind down on him, relishing in finally being able to move. You’re rewarded with a deep groan from Crocodile and you know both of you won’t last much longer. Crocodile’s hand slides from your waist to under your ass as he stands up, sitting you on the desk in one swift movement. Grateful you won’t have to try and use your already aching thighs you allow your head to loll to the side to get a view of Mihawk.

He’s sat back in the chair, legs spread wide as his hand slowly fists his dick. His gaze is lidded as he watches the two of you. Crocodile seems more than happy to maneuver one of your legs up so your foot is on the desk, spreading yourself wide so Mihawk can have a better view of Crocodile’s large cock splitting you open. Crocodile bites down on your shoulder as he thrusts into you and you moan loud as you feel Mihawk’s gaze burn into you.

“You like me watching you?” Mihawk asks, his breath short.

You go to respond but Crocodile thrusts up into you hard and all you can do is moan as your hands fly back to get a grip on the desk to stabilize yourself. It’s not hard to assume Crocodile loves the audience too, deep thrusts at a slightly awkward angle just to show off.

“Hawkeyes-“

“Yes.” Mihawk doesn’t need Crocodile to finish his sentence before he’s quickly by your side. You don’t know how they communicate so much with so little but Mihawk’s deft fingers circling your clit have you abandoning that train of thought.

Mihawk leans in and starts whispering praises in your ear about how good you’re taking Crocodile and how nice you looked sitting on his cock.

Mihawk’s words- His fingers- Crocodile’s thrusts- it was too much and finally after so long of being on the precipice you crashed over into your orgasm. Crocodile wasn’t far behind, burying himself until his hips were flush with yours and filling you up with a groan.

Mihawk’s ministrations on your clit slowed and helped you come down until Crocodile finally pulled out of you. If you weren’t so fucked out you might have been worried about getting Crocodile’s desk dirty but all you could do was collapse back onto it and catch your breath.

The sound of Mihawk zipping his pants up in the quiet space makes you push yourself up a bit to see what was happening. Mihawk hadn’t finished and you flashed him a confused look as you try (and then fail) to sit up.

“Don’t worry about me. You’ve been good.” He leans over and kisses your forehead. “I’m going to go bother Buggy.”

“Mmm.” You nodded and with a sigh relaxed back into the desk. Of course you would have been more than happy to help Mihawk but you have to admit you’re exhausted. Plus you can imagine how excited Buggy will be when Mihawk comes to his door already hard. You smile at him as he walks away and notice a small nod shared between him and Crocodile.

When the door shuts you finally manage to push yourself up to look at Crocodile in his chair. “How do you two do that?”

“Do what?” He’s already put himself back together, a cigar about to be lit in his fingers.

“Talk without talking. I’ve seen you and Mihawk do it a bunch.” You reach over and grab his lighter from his desk and spark it.

“Thanks doll.” He leans forward and lights his cigar. After taking a long drag he answers you question. “We just work on the same wave. Probably because of our time was warlords- same path of thinking, same muscle memory. Turns out fighting and fucking together have a lot of overlap.”

You giggle as you push off the desk and slide sideways into his lap, your legs over his thighs. Leaning into his chest you curl up into his warmth. “It’s great you two have that.”

Crocodile only hums and you let yourself relax as the two of you drift into pleasant silence.

Even if Crocodile is the worst offender that doesn’t mean Buggy isn’t an interruption to your work a lot. Most of it is quick, random kisses or gropes when no one is looking. But sometimes he will get you into his office and whine enough that you relent to him.

“They’re so mean to me baby.” Buggy is lounging on a large velvet couch in his over decorated office.

“Yes. Didn’t you sign up for that?” You stand over him, hand on your hip.

“Yeah but-“ He pouts. “You’re so nice to me.”

“And?” You notice his hands detaching and floating around behind you.

“I could be nice to you.” The innuendo is punctuated by his hands on your ass, squeezing as they push you even closer to him.

“And you know what will happen if we get up to anything without Crocodile or Mihawk.” While you admit it was fun, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be edged for hours.

Buggy dramatically flips back into the couch as you notice a hand leave and fly over to a transponder snail. The snail is picked up and placed on an end table so Buggy could talk to someone.

“Hawky baby~” He calls into the transponder only to be immediately greeted with the sound of Mihawk hanging up. Buggy gasps, offended before redialing.

“Ourassistantisherewithmeandwewantohabefunsocouldyoucomeoverand-“ Buggy rushes all his words out before he’s hung up on again. The mouthpiece gets dropped to the ground as Buggy pouts.

“I’m sure if we just wait until tonight-“ Now it’s your turn to be cut off as you hear the quick opening and closing of Buggy’s door. You turn and see Mihawk standing there, arms crossed.

“Hawky!” Buggy shoots up as his hands reattach themselves. “I knew you would be so loving and reasonable.”

“Which is why you called twice?” Mihawk deadpans.

“Yes?”

You and Mihawk look at each other and you shrug. “He said he wanted to be nice to me.”

“You are nice to him, so it seems only fair.” Mihawk finally walks over and picks one of the obscenely plush chairs to sit in. “Make sure our lovely assistant is appreciated for all their hard work.”

Hands suddenly grab at your waist and pull you down onto the couch with Buggy. In a flash he’s on top of you, pushing you down to lay flat on the bed while he eagerly kisses down your neck. His hands are already working at the waistband of the pants and pulling down.

“You could go a little slower.” Mihawk comments from his chair and you look over to see him palm himself through his pants.

“But that’s no fun.” Buggy smiles up at you as his hands travel back up and push you shirt up, giving him better access to paw and your breasts. You moan as his hands work your flesh and you can feel yourself getting wet from the attention.

Buggy continues not to listen to Mihawk’s advice as he slides down until he’s kissing your hips and down the tops of your thighs. You shudder in anticipation as his hands hold your thighs open and kid mouth travels to your inner thighs, taking its time there as he sucks the sensitive skin.

“Buggy-“ You whine as your hand lands on his head, threading your fingers into his soft blue hair.

“Now who’s in a rush?” Buggy teases, hovering just above where you need him to be.

“Thought you were going to be nice to me.” You pout and you know Buggy can’t resist.

“Anything for my star.” He presses on last kiss to the inside of your thigh before he dives in.

Buggy isn’t as through and calculated as Mihawk or Crocodile but fuck if he isn’t enthusiastic. He’s loud and sloppy but as his tongue dives between your folds his nose rubs against your clit any comparisons fly out of your head. You push his head down further as you buck your hips to grind on his face and Buggy takes that lead well, never slowing down. You’re keenly aware of Mihawk’s gaze and you let your head fall to the side to make eye contact with him.

His dick is out now and his thumb is rubbing over the bright red head. He must like this a lot you think- sitting back and watching the ones more eager to show off. You like it too.

You turn your moans and whines up to eleven, doing your best not to break eye contact with him even when Buggy’s tongue reaches deep inside you. When he does that your grip tightens on his hair and he moans into your pussy. Mihawk’s gaze leaves your eyes for a second to dart down before connecting with yours again.

“Buggy.” Mihawk is short and commanding and to Buggy’s credit he immediately stops and rests his head on your thigh. “Show them your trick.”

“I have a lot of tricks you’re going to have to be more- ohhhhhhh.” Buggy gets a devilish grin on his face as realization clicks.

You’re confused and prop yourself up a bit when Buggy’s hands leave your body to work at his pants and he pulls them down just enough for you to see how worked up he’s gotten from eating you out. What surprises you is when he tugs at his dick it pops off of his body. It makes sense, given his powers there’s no reason it shouldn’t but it’s still a sight. Once the initial shock wears off there’s a fresh wave of arousal as Buggy guides his cock to your entrance, teasing around your folds and gathering the slick there.

“Now go slowly.” Mihawk commands.

You whine as Buggy’s tip pushes into your entrance, stretching you out. True to his orders Buggy goes painfully slow, giving every inch it’s time to drag against your walls. When he’s about halfway in he adjusts and you gasp when suddenly his mouth is around your clit, sucking. You grip his hair hard as he moans into that bundle of nerves and create a pleasure filled feedback loop. Buggy continues to ease himself into you and lap at your clit and all you can do is grip onto him and stare into Mihawk’s golden eyes.

You see him working himself, pacing his hand with Buggy’s slow rhythm in and out of you. Seeing him watching, knowing Buggy and you are under his control even as he’s passively sitting there is thrilling. Knowing he gets off on it too feels just as good.

The overload of this new combination of sensations has you a moaning mess, babbling as you grip onto the couch and Buggy’s hair for dear life. Buggy is close too from you tugging at his hair and your cunt pulsing around him he is using all his focus to keep tonguing at your clit.

“Buggy- ‘m close just-“ You manage to choke out and he gets the message. He pumps himself inside you faster and as he’s slamming into you lightly nips at your clit.

You cum with a loud moan and you feel Buggy close behind you, filling you as your walls seize from your orgasm. You are able to catch Mihawk finishing into his hand, cum spilling over his abs.

Buggy collapses onto you, head nuzzled into your thigh as he catches his breath. You run your fingers through his hair as you gain your senses back.

“Don’t forget we are going out for dinner tonight.” Mihawk says as he finishes cleaning himself up, bringing over some wipes for you and Buggy. “So do be cleaned up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and then presses one on Buggy’s cheek.

You never thought this is where your life would end up but as contentment and love fills up your chest you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #cross guild x reader #the cross guild x reader #discordantwritings

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