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mrswint3rs · 4 months

Note

for the kuna fic you should do stepdad sukuna x fem reader (if you’re comfy) i’ve never seen a stepdad sukuna smut soo🙏🏾🙏🏾

Drawn Toward The Virgin

pairings- Stepdad! Sukuna Ryomen x Fem! Reader

a/n- tysm for this ask. I’ve been procrastinating this one because i’ve had no ideas on how to start 😭

NSFW WARNING:

contains- slight dubcon?, stepcest, loss of virginity, dacryphilia if u squint, brief mentions of blood, unprotected sex, corruption kink, brief fingering, obsession, age gap (reader is early 20s, sukuna is late 30s), brief mentions of grief and depression in the beginning———(not proofread)

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Since the death of your father, your mother hadn't been the same. She seemed distant and lifeless, only existing. She stopped wearing the things she liked, stopped talking to people except for you, stopped going out. She became lonely and isolated herself from the world. You lived with your mother after everything happened, fearing for her mental wellbeing. You hated seeing her this way and tried to be as helpful as possible.

It took a long time to get her to even get out of bed for work. You tried all sorts of things to get your mother out of bed - making her favorite food, offering to take her out for a walk, etc., but nothing seemed to work.

Finally, one day, you were feeling frustrated and snapped at her. Your harsh words made her realize that she needed to take care of herself for your sake.

From that point forward, she made an effort to get out of bed every day and take care of her basic needs.

Your mother was making a lot of progress in improving herself and decided to take the next step by going out and socializing.

She met Sukuna on one such outing.

It all happened far too fast. Three months and he and your mother married and he moved in soon after. A man in his thirties with tattoos on his body and piercing red eyes. At first glance, you thought he looked like a serial killer, but your mother assured you, it was nothing like that. He instantly became the head of the household and started making changes.

His intimidating presence and dominant personality began to affect the way you saw him. The more time you and Sukuna spent together, the more you started to notice his charismatic personality. He was handsome in a mischievous, mysterious way, and a powerful presence that could not be ignored. Quickly, you began to understand how your mother fell for the man so rapidly.

While you were originally scared of him, you started craving his attention. The thought of being the object of his desire was a tantalizing one. When your mother's job took a sudden turn, she was working longer hours and was often times not available to be around during the weekdays.

The thought of being alone with Sukuna terrified you, but at the same time, the chance to have him all to yourself without your mother around was exciting. You were conflicted about your feelings, knowing that Sukuna was your stepfather. But you couldn’t help but want him.

The danger and taboo nature of your relationship was a draw for you as well, knowing the risks but wanting it anyway. It was just a fantasy. A little crush.

But not to Sukuna.

He married your mother for the sole purpose of getting to you. From the time your she told him about you, Sukuna developed an interest in you. Just looking at the pictures she showed him was enough to make him obsess. You just looked pure. An innocent and beautiful young woman, untouched by the world and its perversions. A blank slate, per say.

One that could be shaped and molded to his own desires.

Sukuna knew that marrying your mom was the only way to get close to you. He never loved her, he was incapable of loving anyone. He only saw her as a means to an end. He knew how to play the nice guy - he knew how to sweet talk women and charm them with flattery. He knew how to use his looks and smooth talking to win over a woman's heart.

He recognized your mother's vulnerability and used it to his advantage. He played the gentle and caring man, someone who was willing to listen and be there for her in her time of need. His flattery worked like a charm on your mother, who was quickly falling for his tricks.He would show just enough to keep her interested and wanting more. He was adept at playing the push and pull game and had no qualm about letting your mother think they were over just to turn around and make her crave his attention again.

This cat and mouse game would continue as Sukuna led your mother in circles, keeping her hooked and open to his influence and manipulation.

Sukuna had finally gained the ultimate position of control in your life, being the step-father of a young and innocent woman. A woman he had his sights set on. And he was going to take full advantage.

He started off slow. Always getting closer to you and making you feel more uncomfortable with each encounter.

Sukuna was a master at walking a fine line between fear and desire in his dominance and was extremely effective at pushing your buttons in the right ways.

He knew that you were a shy girl, which made you all the more tempting for him. You were so bashful, modest, so soft spoken. You couldn't even look him in the eyes, and that was what he wanted. That in itself gave him a bit of the upper hand. He could easily overpower you, force himself on you if he wanted to. But he was just waiting to break down your walls. To somehow get you to submit to him.

He was very good at playing the casual games.

He knew how to play off his touches as if they were accidental. He’d purposely brushed against you a couple times, testing your boundaries and making you feel uncomfortable. Your unease was like catnip to him.

He immediately recognized your change in wardrobe over time. You’d wear more revealing clothing when he was around, more makeup even though you didn’t need it. You’d make an effort to come around him instead of avoiding him. He was unusually patient and enjoyed the slow progression.

And once your mother had a late-night shift, Sukuna made his move. He was confident that with your mother gone, he could have his way without any obstacles.

He didn't want to wait anymore. He wanted to take ownership of you, to make sure no one else could have you but him. You were giving him clear signals.

Sukuna barged into your bedroom, not wasting any time or wanting to waste any more time with the sweet and charming routine. He was determined to claim you, and he was not going to wait any longer or let anything interfere.

He was amused to arrive just as you were getting ready for bed. The timing was perfect. "Going to bed already?"

“Yeah, pretty tired.” You tried to act like you didn't care that he was there, like his presence didn't affect you. But it was obvious. You were half naked, as you usually were when going to bed, unable to hide your frayed nerves. Even more so when he shuts your door, confidently stalking into your space.

"Relax..." he coos, continuing to eye you as you got into bed, noticing each movement you made trying to hide yourself under the covers. But he wasn’t just teasing methodically anymore.

He walked over and pushed back the blankets, revealing you underneath. Sitting down beside you on the bed, his presence imposing as he hovered.

He cupped your jaw and made you look at him, his dark gaze holding firm. “Look at me…Are you afraid?” he gripped your chin tightly, not letting you look away from him. Leaning in closer and running his thumb along your lower lip, feeling your quivering at last.

“A little.”

He grinned. He had you right where he wanted you. leaning down towards you, his lips ghosting yours. “Good, I want you to be.” he made his move, grabbing your face and kissing you roughly, as his lips pressed hard against yours and his teeth nipping playfully at your lip. You felt an uncontrollable urge within you, to just let yourself be taken by him.

Your mind goes blank as his tongue invades your mouth, making you succumb to his will. Sukuna pinned you down on the bed, straddling you with his larger frame. The feeling of being subdued and overpowered by him sent your senses into overdrive. He held your wrists so he could prevent you from moving. His kisses became rougher and more intense. you felt yourself surrendering, giving him complete control. He was unstoppable at this point and you felt your legs wrapping around him as your body gave in to him.

His hands roamed all over your body, grabbing and squeezing, feeling every inch of you. Fingers working the clasp of your bra, discarding it to your floor. Kissing down your neck, making his way toward your exposed breasts.

A hand travels under the lace of your panties testing the waters, fingers dipping into the pool of your cunt. “So wet just from a bit of teasing and kisses?” he muses, rubbing over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “C’mon make some noise for me, doll. I’ve been so patient with you.”

His mouth takes in your stiff nipple, suckling and teasing trying to push your sensitivity. Two slender fingers snaking knuckle deep into your tight little entrance, rubbing over that spongy spot you always struggled to reach. “Kuna..” a soft moan escapes your lips, “We can’t do this.” He laughs a bit. Sukuna couldn’t give two shits about morals. Not a single part of him felt even a hint of guilt about this. He decided he wanted you, so he was going to have you. Continuing to scissor his fingers in and out of you, prepping you for what he had planned. He grins to himself, thoroughly enjoying your whines and whimpers. “You’re so sensitive. I think it’s time we get to the real deal, eh?” He pulls his digits out of you to remove his restraints, giving you no time to process. Strength ripping your panties, not wasting any time to remove them. He had to have you, now.

Needy tip rubbing along your slick folds, enveloping your warmth. The panic in your eyes egging him on. “i’ve never…” you start but he cuts you off, the head of his dick pushing into you. “Trust me, I know.” he groans, your tight walls sucking him in involuntarily. Your lash line fills with tears threatening to spill, his girth stretching your insides painfully slow. Tearing your hymen with ease, a small amount of blood coating his cock as he plunges deeper. You grit your teeth, trying to refrain from crying but failing. Sukuna doesn’t move once he’s fully in, kindly letting you adjust. He didn’t want to break you so soon. Full weight pinning you to the plush mattress as he leans down to lick your salty tears. “Such a pretty little thing, crying for me. Does it hurt?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around him for a sense of comfort. “A little bit…”

Sukuna smirks slyly at your reply, loving how you were completely at his mercy. “Aw, poor girl. You’ll get used to it.” With a final flick of his tongue, he slowly moves. Breath heavy, feeling the pleasures of your strong grip, nails digging into his muscled back. Gradually starting to pump his hips, the pain slowly deteriorates and turns into something overwhelmingly good. The head of his cock kissing your cervix, reaching into the untouched depths of your sweet pussy.

Noticing you relaxed, face contorting more in pleasure than in pain, he picks things up. Both hands pushing your knees up to your chest so he can fill you deeper. Growling and groaning like a rabid beast, hips slamming into you, balls slapping against your ass. Getting lost in you, knowing he’s the first to have you. Wanting to be the only.

Your walls constrict against him every time he finds your sweet spot. He makes sure to continuously do so, loving your mellifluous moans and cries. He looks down at where the two of you connect, your sticky fluids smooching against his freshly shaven mound. He’s never had a girl this wet for him in his life. He’d popped plenty of cherries, but it was never this satisfying. The corruption of his sweet little stepdaughter was more fulfilling than anything he’d ever tried. And when you cream so beautifully on his cock, he swears he’s about to die. Heart pounding so hard in his chest that his ears are ringing, thrusting as fast as he possibly can to chase his high. Both of you are sweaty, panting messes. Overwhelming hot, bodies rubbing together as one.

At the shaking of your legs, he can’t hold it any longer. You were squeezing the life out of his cock. He spurts uncontrollably inside of you, cum filling your small hole. He can’t stop himself, stuffing you with everything he has in him before collapsing on top of you, practically gasping for air. He softens, eventually slipping out of you and leaving you clenching around nothing. “You took me so well, doll.” he grins, teeth biting into your neck, marking you.

“wanna be my good girl from now on?”

mlist

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #smut #fanfiction #fem reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk #anon ask #amature writer

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sugarnspice630 · 29 days

Text

Fancall Fiasco - Hongjoong

"Fan service my ass! Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?"

•pairing: meandom!nonidol!hongjoong x idol!fem!reader

•word count: 4k

•tags: reader has an idol stage name that they go by, established relationship, mdni, smut, dirty filthy pure smut, possesive and MEAN hongjoong, degradation, name calling (whore, slut, cheater, etc), hair pulling, oral (m&f receiving), deep throating, belt restraints, spanking, slight spitting, edging, overstimulation, biting/marking up (f receiving), slight cnc(?)...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: Being an idol, you have to provide fan service to your loyal followers, however your boyfriend thinks you went a little too far with this one male fan and decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

A/N: Phew howdy this is FILTHYYYY! Longest fic I've ever written too I think. After my call with Hongjoong, I couldn't stop thinking about if the roles were reversed and he got all jealous and possessive...Definitely need him to treat me this way. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

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Your group recently had a comeback, and to promote album sales and meet your amazing fans, you were doing 2-3 fancall events every single day. It was exhausting to see some familiar faces and having to talk to the same person multiple times in one day, but as an idol, you have to put up with that kind of stuff and just do your job.

The outfit your stylist put you in was super edgy and went with the concept for your recent album. It was a little revealing, but you didn’t mind too much cause you felt pretty. A black crop top with a metal o-ring right in the middle of your chest, a hooded top with the shoulders exposed that had grommets and rings down the arms, and connected to this ring on the hoodie top were two belt-like chains that went down your sides and hooked together in the back underneath the hood. Many of the fans you talked to today, mostly men, but occasional female fans, complimented you and said how beautiful you looked today. It was always refreshing getting to talk to the fellow female fans, as it felt more like girlhood than the male fans just trying to get in your pants. Although there was this one fan in particular, that was unbelievably handsome. After the staff member removed the paper from the camera, you were met with a gorgeous man, around the same age as you, you assumed.

“A-ah! H-Hi Hana!” He waved to you and seemed slightly nervous.

“Hi there-!” You quickly glanced down at your note, sitting next to the album you were supposed to sign for the fan. “Felix! So nice to meet you!” You said with a smile and waved with your free hand. You stared back at the fan with sparkling eyes, and your head tilted to the side as he waved back to you.

“I’m so excited to talk to you today…ah sorry, I’m so nervous.” He covered his face with his hands but left his eyes visible so he could stare at you.

"Ahh, don’t be nervous; I’m excited to talk to you too. Actually, you’re very handsome.” You said with a smirk and leaned closer to the camera. You watched as the fan lit up with excitement and heard a tiny gasp come from him.

“Oh- t-thank you so much. Y-you’re very pretty too.”

“Oh am I~? That’s so nice to hear. Thank you so much.” You continued to smile and bat your eyes at the fan, enjoying how flustered you were making him.

“Y-yes, I actually had a question for you, if I can ask.”

“Yes of course!” You took this opportunity to look down at the album, pick your favorite picture from this specific version of the album, and place your signature in the corner, along with a couple hearts for some fan service. The fan asked their question while you were signing.

“I was wondering how you came up with your stage name?” Ah yes, the question many fans ask you because they love to hear the clever response that you came up with.

“Ahh actually, so the number 1 in Korean is "hana,” and it has a lot of importance to me. It’s my favorite number, I was the first person to join our group, and I know I’ll always be the number 1 in your heart.” You took your time saying your response to drag out the time, looking around the room to pretend you were thinking about it, and then at the very end flashed a finger heart and a wink to the fan, to which he melted and covered his face with his hands again.

“Wow…you’re so cool Hana and so pretty.”

“Thank you so much!” You covered your smile with your hand to act all shy and cutesy. As the fans say, the company's rent was due, your fan service today has been insanely good. You heard the familiar sound of the timer going off, meaning the call was coming to an end. “Aww I’m so sorry Felix our time is up.” You said with a pout and brought your hands to a praying motion.

“Aww okay. Bye Hana! Thank you so much!” He waved to you and smiled.

“Bye handsome! Thank you!” You winked one last time as you waved, and the staff covered the camera with paper and ended the call. You made sure the call was done before you let out a sigh of relief and dropped your smile. The staff member that was helping you out for the day just smiled and chuckled the slightest bit.

“You were working hard there.” She said as she grabbed the album from you, placed the sticky note with the fan's order on it, and set it off to the side.

“Ahh yeah, he was cute though! Very sweet boy. It’s fans like that that make me love my job.” You took a couple sips out of the water bottle the staff provided for you and relaxed for a few seconds before the next call started.

–

The events were done for the day, and exhausted was an understatement. You bowed to the event staff and thanked them many times before making your way out of the room and following your manager back to the designated room for your group. You quickly glanced at your phone and saw a message from your boyfriend.

Your blood ran cold. He sounded so serious. What could you have possibly done? I guess you were going to find out when you got back to your apartment. You and Hongjoong had plans to meet up after your schedules today anyway.

–

You got back to your apartment, finally wearing some comfortable clothes. You walked into the front door, took your jacket off, and started to kick your shoes off before shouting out to your boyfriend, who was hiding somewhere.

“Hongjoong! I’m bac-!” Your words were cut off by Hongjoong pressing you against the wall. His one hand grips onto your shoulder to keep you against the hard surface, and the other hand holds his phone and shoves the screen in your face.

“What the fuck is this?” He said lowly and through gritted teeth. You glanced over at the screen, breathing heavily, and saw a familiar-looking face on his screen. The video was from one of the many fan calls you had today. Specifically the really nice looking one. What was his name? Ah right, Felix.

“I don’t understand…”

“Don't play dumb with me Y/N! You’re practically fucking him through the screen!”

“N-no Hongjoong..what? L-let me see.” You reached up, took the phone from his hand, and read the post the fan had made to yourself.

The attached video had no sound, but subtitles were provided. You reviewed the video and smirked to yourself, watching the fan get all nervous and flustered again at your fan service. That’s exactly all it was. Fan service. You scrolled through some of the comments that had been made on that post by other fans.

Waahhh, omg you’re so lucky!!

SHE IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU! IMAGINE BEING CALLED HANDSOME BY HANA? GOD YOU’RE SO LUCKY

Ohhh she wants you fr fr

You smirked again and lightly scoffed at the various reactions from your fans. When you looked back up at Hongjoong to hand him his phone back, his arms were crossed, his breathing was deep and heavy, and he stared at you with aggressive eyes.

“B-baby it’s just fan service.”

“Fan service my ass!” He snatched his phone back from your hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?”

“Hongjoong no, you don’t have to do that. I-I know that-.” Your words were cut off again by Hongjoong pushing you back against the wall again and slamming his lips onto yours. The grip he had on your arms was enough to hurt a little bit, and you squirmed at the uncomfortable feeling. “J-Joong.”

“Shut the fuck up cheater, or I’ll shove something in your mouth to make you shut up.” His behavior was so left-field for you, and you didn’t know how to feel. If you wanted to be truly honest, his possessive nature was making your pussy ache and damp.

“I didn’t d-do anything wrong!”

“Didn’t do anything wrong….listen to yourself!” He yelled slightly and slid his hands down to grab both of your wrists, then slammed them up against the wall. He pressed his body frame against you, so you were completely against the wall. His face is right in your face, leaving no room for personal space. “I fucking own you; you got that? You’re mine, and when I see you flirting and undressing your fans with those seductive eyes of yours..I get a little…pissed off. So now, I have to make sure you haven’t forgotten exactly who you belong to.”

“Hongjoong I-.” Your heart was beating rapidly, and you did not know what else to say or do. He waited for you to try to say another smart remark before he took your hands held above your head, held them in one hand, and pulled you along as he started stomping toward your room. “Stop! What are you doing?”

“Teaching you a fucking lesson.” He threw his arm forward, which resulted in you stumbling forward and dropping down at the edge of the bed. He stepped back and ripped his shirt off over his head and, with one hand, threw it to the side of the room. You were propping yourself up with one arm and leaning back onto the bed as he walked closer to you. He grabbed the bottom of your chin and forced your face to look up at him. Taking a few seconds to look at your face and smile slyly.

“Are you scared of what I am capable of, Y/N?” You shook your head from side to side in response. “Use your fucking words slut.”

“N-no!” You stuttered out.

“You don’t sound so confident~.”

“I’m not scared of you!” You retaliated, but he just smirked at you.

“Guess I'll have to make you scared of me then.” Not a moment passed before he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off the bed, down on your knees, onto the floor in front of him. You winced from the pain as he dragged you down. You tilted your head up to look at him, hoping your expression would fill him with remorse. “Pathetic really. You think looking at me like that will make me forget what you did today? Think again.” As he spoke, his free hand fought with his belt to get it off. He snapped the belt to the side, almost like a whip, and squatted down to be in front of you. You dared not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes piercing into you. You felt his hand release from your hair. He tenderly traced his hands along your arms and brought them together, holding your wrists together again with his hands.

“I don’t want you fucking touching me, so this is how I’ll fix that.” He took the belt and tightened it harshly around your wrists, pulling the belt tought and wrapping it a few times, allowing the end of the belt to stick out as a grip for him to hold onto. He stood back up and pulled your arms up with the belt. Your head rag dolled with your arms being pulled up. At this point, you had given in to him and were ready to accept whatever punishment he was giving you right now.

Your eyes followed his hand, which was not holding your restraint, and your eyes were led to the zipper on his pants. He pulled the zipper down and shimmed his pants down just barely past his hips, enough for him to be able to whip his cock out.

“Open up whore.” He demanded, and you found yourself quickly obeying. He raised the arm holding your restraint a little higher before shoving his cock directly into your mouth. Pushing himself all the way in, not allowing you to prepare yourself at all. Your eyes immediately filled with tears, and you tried your best not to gag. Hongjoong had an average-sized cock, but that doesn't mean it was easy for you to take him. You heard Hongjoong groan above you, and you glanced up at him to see the look on his face. His head was tilted back slightly, and his mouth was agape just the slightest bit.

“God I’m gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna fuck this little throat of yours so good it’ll be hard for you to sing at your precious music show tomorrow.” You whimpered at his dirty talk, but also because your voice is an extremely valued asset to your group, and if you can’t perform at your best, it will definitely not go unnoticed. He shoved himself further inside your mouth, and you couldn’t help but gag so hard that you started to cough. You pulled yourself off and back away from him, and you continued coughing until you felt better. Hongjoong scoffed at you.

“Unbelievable.”

“Joongie please…” Your voice is nearly above a whisper, still trying to come back to you after having his dick deep in your throat. Your eyes are now bloodshot and watery, looking at him hoping he’ll feel some sympathy and realize he's going a little too hard on you.

“You should have thought about the consequences before flirting with that fan baby.” He shrugs and dismisses your cry for help. You braced yourself, thinking he was going to shove himself back inside your throat, but to your surprise, he pulled you up by the belt restraint, so you were standing up. He steadied you by placing his free hand on your shoulder and looking at you deep in the eyes. “You’re lucky I actually give a shit about your career. Be thankful I don’t completely ruin your fragile ass.” He tilted his head while talking to you, smirking at the end of his sentence.

“Y-yes, thank you.”

“Shut up. That wasn’t an invitation.” He unexpectedly let go of the belt, and your arms fell down in front of you, hitting the front of your crotch. You whimpered at the impact and felt the blood rush back into your arms. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pushed you, so you fell back onto the bed. Letting out a grunt when your back made contact with the mattress. Hongjoong stepped closer to the bed and gripped onto your sweatpants.

“I don’t want to hear another sound out of you, got it?” You opened your mouth to agree, but quickly closed it and nodded your head instead. "Finally, you got some sense knocked into you.” He pulled your sweatpants down, and you heard a soft chuckle come out of him. “My my, you’ve made a mess down here already.” You wanted to squirm, but his grip on your legs prevented you from doing so. Your struggle must have said enough because he took two of his fingers and placed them on the wet patch on your underwear. The room was quiet enough that you could hear the squishing sound of your wetness spreading even more, completely soaking your undergarments.

“You like me treating you like this, huh?” He said as he pushed his fingers into you harder. You bit your lip to suppress the whimper that so desperately wanted to come out. His two fingers finding your clit through your underwear and massaging it delicately. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip harder. You arched your back slightly and tilted your head into the bed.

“Look at you getting all needy for me now. Bet you were not thinking about me when talking to that boy toy of yours.” His tone was so condescending. You had really pissed him off, and he was going to make sure you knew and remembered who you belonged to. He removed his fingers from your clothed pussy and pulled them down. Completely removing those and your sweatpants in the process. You felt the cold air of the room blow across your bare area and got cold chills on your body. He harshly gripped your thighs and pulled your legs further apart, completely exposing yourself to him. You felt his warm breath against you as he leaned in closer. He pushes your legs apart a little more, and you whimper at the pain of being overstretched. Hongjoong hears your whimper and slaps the side of your leg with his hand.

“I thought I told you to stay quiet.”

“S-sorry.” You muttered and felt Hongjoong slap your side again, harder than the last time. Next thing you know, he dives his tongue straight into your pussy, licking and sliding his mouth everywhere. His warm tongue collects all of your juices that have recently come out. He swirls your fluids around in his mouth and spits it right back out onto you, licking and lapping it up all over again. His nose is pushing right onto your clit. You so badly want to take your hands and grip the side of his hair, but with your hands tied, you can’t. Your body writhes and squirms underneath him, and with every movement you make, you feel him pushing that side of you back down to keep you secured to the bed. He continues to lick and tongue-fuck you, too enthralled in your pussy to notice all of the soft whimpers and moans you have been letting out. You feel a knot begin to form in your lower stomach, but just as you are about to go over the edge, Hongjoong pulls away from you. You tilt your head down to look at him, breathing heavily and wondering why he stopped. He looks back at you and uses his tongue to lick your excessive fluids that have built up around his lips. Pulling his tongue back in and letting it rest against his teeth as he smirks at you, looking at him with desperation and confusion.

“Oh I’m sorry. Did you really think I was going to let you cum that easily? This is your punishment whore. Nothing good will come out of this, you hear me?”

You pouted and wiggled your arms to try to prop yourself up. You just wanted to cum so badly and get this punishment over with. Hongjoong takes this time to grab your sides and flip you over onto your stomach. Your legs are still dangling off the edge of the bed, and you feel him spread your legs apart a little bit with his hands and nuzzle himself in between. He glides his hand up your right thigh and caresses your ass cheek.

“Such a pretty ass, but it’ll look even better with my handprints all over it. Wouldn’t you agree?” You wiggled your hips to agree with him. He firmly grips your cheek before pulling his hand away and forcing it back down onto your ass. He watches as the skin, fat, and muscle recoil from the slap. You push your head into the bed to muffle any sounds that might come out of your mouth. Hongjoong not being satisfied with his work yet, lifted his hand up again and smacked your ass harshly for the second time. You started to feel the stinging and burning feeling. Your ass was now a pretty shade of pink, but Hongjoong was still not satisfied. He lifted his hand one more time and put all his effort into slapping your ass again. You heard him grunt as he swung his arm down. Putting all of his force into smacking you. You pushed your hips back, unintentionally asking him for more.

“It’s funny you think I’m going to give you what you want. Really? After what you did today?” Hongjoong massaged your stinging and red cheek as he said this, and you softly moaned at the feeling. Finally being able to feel some comfort after a couple minutes of pain. Hongjoong flips you around again and leans down, placing his arms on both sides of you to support himself. He reaches for the belt restraint and takes it off of you.

“This is not an invitation for you to touch me, got it?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whispered as you nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. He smirks for a second and tosses the belt to the side of the room. He places one arm back at your side while the other hand touches his cock to guide himself into you. Instead of slamming himself inside of you like before, he slowly inserts his dick into you. Your walls swallow him, and you can feel every vein on his cock. He removes his hand from his dick as he goes further in and places it beside you on the other side.

“God dammit you’re so tight.” He growls through gritted teeth. Pushing himself all the way, slowly. You squeeze your eyes shut as he fills you nicely. Happy to finally have his cock inside you after him edging you. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, unsure of where to put them since you can’t put them on Hongjoong like you normally would.

“I’m gonna drill myself so far into you that you’ll still feel me inside you days later. So you can never forget me. Huh? Remember? You’re mine Y/N. You’re my toy to fuck and play with. Think about that the next time you want to whore yourself out to your fans. I bet he couldn’t fuck you like I could. No, he couldn’t. Cause if he even remotely got close to you, he’d be gone in seconds. No one touches you except for me. You got that? Mine…you’re fucking mine!” Hongjoong spouts off, getting increasingly louder and harder with his thrusts. He has fully leaned his body down onto you, so you are chest to chest. His dick keeps drilling inside you, and your head is spinning. His dirty and possessive words go straight to your core.

“Hongjoong-”

"Yeah, fucking say my name. Who’s fucking you this good?”

“Hongjoong!”

“That’s right you slut!” He thrusts himself into you harder and faster. You feel your orgasm building up again. You so desperately want to grab onto his arms and hold onto him as you’re cumming. Hongjoong dives his head into your neck and kisses and nips at your skin, surely leaving little marks on your skin.

“S-stop! Tomorrow…schedule!” You plead, trying to tell him not to mark up your skin since you have performances to do the next day.

“No! I’m letting all of your precious fans know you’re already taken, and there is no chance of them being able to get with you.” He mutters seductively against your neck. A few more thrusts and neck kisses, and your release bubbles out of you. You cry out his name, each one louder than the last, as you cum all over his cock. “Fuck! Yeah that’s right. I’m the only one capable of making you cum this hard.” His thrusts are getting sloppy, and you can tell he is close to his release. He is still pounding into you, which is overstimulating you. Muttering “yeah” and “fuck” to himself quietly over and over again, grunting and groaning. Eventually, he fills you up with his load. Tilting his head down and panting as he tries to calm himself down. He pulls himself out of you, and you whimper. Completely fucked out and brainless at this point.

“Just to check…who do you belong to?”

“You Hongjoong…o-only you.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget that ever again; you got it?”

“Yes Hongjoong.”

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @xuchiya @bunnyluvr25

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makeyoumine69 · 6 months

Text

Husband!Patrick Bateman having a breeding kink | NSFW HEADCANON

Pairing: Hubby!Patrick Bateman x Shy!Fem!Reader; CW: SMUT, p in v sex, creampie, oral (f), body worship, dirty talk, praise kink, etc. Links: [MASTERLIST].

✔ Patrick Bateman would be the last person to say that parenthood was his thing, but at the same time he couldn't deny that the idea of breeding you was kind of alluring and captivating, even depraved. He always saw you as a shy little girl, and just the thought of claiming you in such an intimate way made his manhood ache. ✔ If you asked him where he preferred to cum, Patrick would always say — inside. Before you two got married, you always took birth control pills since you were not ready to have children, but right after your wedding, Bateman started asking you questions about family, because every time you ran into anyone with kids, he could see your awestruck gaze — which was too eloquent, but once again, you were too timid to tell him about trying for a baby. ✔ Bateman didn't like anything to do with children, you knew that and respected that, until one day he came home from work to find you sitting on the couch with a glass of red wine — your favorite, the sort he would always remember. ✔ With feline grace, Patrick approached your small and attractive frame, which had already become family to him. "What's on your mind, honey?" ✔ You would squeak at his unexpected touch, but then immediately snuggle into his big and warm palm, because you missed him so much. "Oh, I didn't even hear you coming," you would smile, closing your eyes as his thumb gently slid over your lips. "Actually, I was thinking about us..." ✔ "Us?" He repeated, and only now did you notice that he was hiding something behind his back. "I'm intrigued." ✔ Slowly, Bateman walked around the couch and sat down next to you, his expensive perfume immediately enveloping you. ✔ "Uh, nothing serious, really," you tried to joke back, feeling the impending heat cursing through your form as the mere physical contact with his strong body made you feel so weak and small. "I was just thinking that... I'm so happy to be with you..." ✔ You could swear you just noticed his brown eyes gleaming with pure adoration at your words. "It's mutual, darling," Patrick purred, leaning down to kiss you on the lips, cupping your face and tilting it to deepen the kiss. "All day at the office," he gave you both a moment of respite. "I've been thinking about you." ✔ His lips sent you far away from here, his sturdy arms were your keep, when Bateman was around you feared nothing. When he broke the kiss, you felt something soft on your knees, and you couldn't contain your surprise when you looked down and saw a cute, plushy bear. ✔ "Oh my gosh," you grinned and hugged the toy — the sight of your childlike happiness made Bateman's heart flutter. "This is so adorable. Thank you, Patrick." ✔ "You're welcome, (y/n)," he almost whispered in a hoarse voice, his hands still on your waist. "If you like this plushy fellow so much, I can't imagine how our little one would react." ✔ You almost choked on the air, everything you wanted to say stuck in your throat like a lump. ✔ Jesus Christ, did he really mean it? ✔ "Our little one?" You asked him in disbelief. ✔ "Yes, dear," he replied affectionately before taking the toy from your hands as he was about to scoop you up in his arms. "Let's try for a baby so you can give this cuddly toy to our little girl or boy." ✔ "Patrick..." You gasped and wrapped your hands around his strong neck to pull him closer. ✔ And when your mouths clashed again, Patrick registered yours move as a 'yes'. A low guttural sound escaped his broad chest as he felt your legs loop around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom. ✔ Kiss after kiss, touch after touch, you both breathed so hard that the air around you became electric. With a sly grin, he possessively unfastened your silky robe, not wasting a second to nuzzle your collarbone, placing little hickeys here and there, dotting your skin with his marks of love.

✔ "Fuck, you smell so good, sweetheart," he hummed into your ear, removing his shirt along with your robe, leaving you completely naked. "Did you miss me?"

✔ "Yes...mhm," your muffled moan echoed off the walls of the fancy bedroom as his soft fingertips eagerly explored the curves of your body, paying special attention to your hard nipples. "I missed you so much, my love."

✔ "Oh yeah?" His husky voice made you melt like butter on a summer day. "Then show me."

✔ With a shaky breath, you gently took his hand and guided it down between your legs, and when Bateman saw how soaked you were, he couldn't help but chuckle with satisfaction, but the next thing you did drove him completely wild.

✔ A little embarrassed, you brought his long fingers, glistening with your taste, to your lips.

✔ "Such a nasty little girl," he crooned, watching you intently. "So wet for me already."

✔ With that, Patrick grazed your neck, then licked your soft skin and fondled your pretty breasts. Shaking beneath him, you arched your back towards him before lying flat on the bed, opening your legs to present yourself to his lustful gaze and eliciting a loud curse to escape his tensed chest. Bateman hovered over you like a predator catching its prey, pinning you down with his weight as he unzipped his pants, and the next moment he was slowly stroking his hard length, which throbbed painfully in his hand.

✔ "Patrick," you mewled suddenly into his mouth as he attempted to kiss you. "What if...what if it won't work?"

✔ "It will," he reassured you by pecking your cheek. Carefully, he removed the last of his clothes and positioned himself between your splayed legs. "Just don't fucking think about it," Patrick murmured in a comforting tone, while he peppered your inner thigh with little smooches. "It's just you and me," he said, getting closer to your pulsating core with each gentle peck. "Do you trust me?"

✔ Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked down at his ruffled hair, flushed face and beautiful hazel eyes. "Of course...of course I do." You nodded and before you knew it, his lips found their way to your throbbing clit, leaving a sensual kiss just below the hooded area. Then, he parted your tender flesh to take your little tip into his heated mouth. "Awww, Patrick!"

✔ An electric shock pierced through your body with each flicker of his delf tongue along your delicate petals, his skilful digits moving in a sync with his mouth as he slurped at your succulent pussy. “Mmhm, I’d never have enough of this.”

✔ Holding you tightly and not letting you close your legs, Bateman returned to his feast, alternately sucking on your bundle of nerves and flicking his wet tongue around it, peering at your beautiful face from time to time, and — the way you frowned in pleasure was like fuel to the fire.

✔ The things Patrick could do with his tongue, his lips and his mouth were as delightful as a sip of water after a hot day, but now you wanted him to take you in the truest sense of that word, you wanted him to ravage you and you wouldn't accept anything less than that.

✔ "Pat-Patrick, please...I need you...I need you inside of me," you pleaded, your hand stroking his brown, messy waves. "I want you."

✔ "Uh, so soon?" Bateman mused against your oozing folds, without stopping to pump his rock-hard dick.

✔ "Yes," you tugged a little harder at his soft hair. "Fuck me."

✔ Patrick hummed in response, allowing himself to tease you a little longer before he got up on his knees and took the nearby pillow to place it under your ass — he lifted you up so easily, his absolute power left you no choice but to surrender to his possession.

✔ Swiftly, Bateman put both of your legs on his broad shoulders, leaving a short trail of quick kisses on your trembling ankle. "I can't wait to see you blossom with maternity." His raspy voice was the only thing that mattered as he aligned himself with your dripping opening and in one powerful thrust plunged his thick cock all the way in, drawing a loud whimper from your dry lips. "Mhm, fuck...you're so tight." ✔ It took Patrick a moment to pull himself together from the way your greedy pussy was clinging to his throbbing dick. With his eyes closed, he gave you a really deep stroke before he pressed your legs closer to his chest as he leaned on his fist, finding the rhythm that would make you lose yourself. There was no way to resist that blissful sensation of being so full, so stretched, so conquered. ✔ "Yes, just like that," he praised you, hammering his strong hips against yours without taking his gaze off of you. The sight was simply incredible — your half-open mouth, your knitted eyebrows, and all of it belonged to him, your every moan, your every gasp. "Take that dick like a good girl you are," Patrick gritted his teeth from the unbearable pleasure of your soft, velvety walls encasing his dick so fucking perfectly. "Fuck, you make me so proud." ✔ "Aahh, you're so big," you cried, closing your eyes and clawing at his hips. "Mmmm, Patrick...Patrick..." ✔ Your pleading made him growl in response, and instead of spanking you or being pretty rough — which he usually preferred — Bateman moved closer to your face and put both of your legs on each of his shoulders again. "Shh, I'm here, babe," he cupped your chin and angled your head to leave a sensual hickey on your jaw. "Look at me, (y/n)," he uttered, slowing down a bit as he felt your inner channel clenching around him too vividly. "Look at me." ✔ Quivering beneath him, you didn't want to test his patience any longer, so you complied, and your eyes finally met. "I'm...I'm close," you swallowed hard at your words, not even recognizing your own voice at first. "I love you...I love you, Patrick!" ✔ Bateman couldn't stop smirking at your declaration of love, but instead of just using words, he quickly pulled out of you, only to turn you on your side to give you some nice and deep backshots. ✔ "I know, honey," he rumbled, grasping your hip for leverage as he rammed into you mercilessly, each thrust accompanied by a nasty slap of his balls. "Tell me...tell me to cum." ✔ Clawing at your knee, you moaned pathetically as Bateman pressed you hard against the sheets, your small frame rocking violently as he fucked you into oblivion. "Cum for me…!" your voice cracked from the imminent orgasm. "Fill me with your seed...and breed me," you wrinkled the pillow underneath you as a white veil covered your vision. Once you felt Patrick convulsing against your body, his strokes became ragged and sloppy. "Yes...y-yes...please!" ✔ "Ah, f-f-fuck!" Your pleas only encouraged him to bury himself as deep as he could, his climax making him weak in the knees. The thought was so fucking astonishing; to spend his fertile cum in your womb, and soon your belly would swell with the fruit of your love. "Good girl...so good for me." ✔ Breathing heavily, he leaned down on you, pressing his sweaty cheek against yours and kissing your earlobe lovingly. Patrick purred some incoherent praises, wrapping one hand around your neck so you could rest your head on it, while another slid down your trembling body. First, he twirled your taut nipple, but then his palm suddenly changed its curse and sneaked between your thighs to rub your swollen clit. ✔ "Patrick...Patrick....a-aaah," you could repeat his name forever, but your own high washed over you like a tidal wave. "Mhmmm!" ✔ Even though you were shaking pretty badly Bateman easily held you securely under his massive body, enjoying the way you orgasmed and feeling so fucking arrogant that every twitch of your delicious body belonged to him.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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calicoheartz · 3 days

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I love ur writing! Could you write something about Caitlin being obsessed with her girlfriend and talking about her/posting her everywhere?

Bound by Obsession ; Caitlin Clark ┈﹒⁾⁾

summary : caitlin going absolutely feral for her girlfriend and brags about her every chance she gets ! ｡>﹏<)

warnings : mainly pure fluff :)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : aww tysm anon! here are some different scenarios of Caitlin being absolutely obsessed w u! Enjoy ◡̈

during games ;

Caitlin would definitely dedicate every single shot she makes to you. As she believes you’re truly the reason why she has succeeded and has made it this far !

Whether youre attending the game or watching it on tv, she would always do a little heart symbol towards the camera to let you know she’s thinking of you! 🫶🏻

She also always makes an effort to wave to you when hyping up the crowd! Blowing you little kisses and sneaking glances at you 😩

interviews / post conference ;

omg our girl is SO infatuated with you that she will bring you up in every single interview at any chance she gets. If someone ask what’s the key to her success , it’s you. Good luck charm? You! I swear she will bring you up whenever she can

on social media ;

you are her entire feed. End of story. Her profile picture is of the both of you!

She always likes to show you off on her story, whether it’s a nice or silly picture of you, she wants everyone to know you’re hers!

you guys definitely have matching bios as well

will fight anyone that flirts with you in your comments. (She literally lives in your comment section goodbye!)

with your friends ;

is ALWAYS talking about you. and tbh, she’d be sick of it too if she was them. “Did you hear about what happened to y/n?” - “omg look at what y/n sent me 😘”

The team is so sick of her. Literally anytime they tell her to stfu she’ll just roll her eyes and be like “I’d be jealous too if I had such an awesome and amazing girlfriend 😒”

PDA GALOREEEE OMG ARGUE W A WALL!!!

^ always kissing your neck , hand on your thigh , rubbing circles on your back , caressing your cheek..etc! She always has to be touching you!

will probably add more to this later !! I accidentally hit publish and I didn’t want to delete it bc then I’d lose the question 😬 uhmm anywho! tysm for reading <3

#wlw #caitlin clark #headcannons #my hcs #paige bueckers #wcbb #wlw imagine #caitlin clark x reader #22 #kate martin #Iowa #hawkeye

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kamaluhkhan · 1 day

Text

COMPLICATED

LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡

♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne

in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.

which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.

it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.

"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?"

you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response. it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.

after another beat of silence, you take the lead.

“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”

“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.

a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.

“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”

“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.

“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests.

almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same.

with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.

you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:

“it’s not her.”

he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.

for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters.

according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you.

“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — "

annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —

well, percy can’t help but admire you even more.

"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”

“everything else?”

you look at percy like the answer is obvious.

“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.”

that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.

“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.”

“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.”

“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.”

you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed.

“what? you never told me that.”

“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”

“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”

you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.

“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”

again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too.

“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”

“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”

percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.

deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.

he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.

—

ii.

if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.

“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.

“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side.

“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”

“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”

“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges.

“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”

“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”

luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even.

“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”

“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”

in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.

“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”

“i just want to be prepared.”

“prepared for what?”

luke hesitates. “just….the future.”

“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”

“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”

“oh my fucking gods — ”

grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults.

when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him.

and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles.

lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.

that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.

then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst.

like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods.

“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”

luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.

“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”

you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.

and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.

“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”

grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory.

he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.

—

iii.

annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely.

all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.

unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other.

annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.

she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.

but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.

as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name.

luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.

all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.

you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve.

annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.

luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first.

“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”

annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like.

as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand.

maybe that’s a good place to start.

“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?"

"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."

"would you go to school?"

you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.”

“what about luke?”

your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."

"luke needs you."

you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask:

“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”

and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry.

“how did you —”

“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun.

“well, nothing’s confirmed.”

you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”

annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.

"what's holding you back?"

“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares — that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”

“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”

you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.

“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping."

"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks.

you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more.

"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”

"oh," is all annabeth can say.

“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."

annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it.

before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.

luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.

when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again.

"that sucks."

“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important."

"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"

"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers. "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”

“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”

the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs.

“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”

you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight.

"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.

annabeth hums.

"how much of that did you hear?"

luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.

—

iv.

you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.

luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin.

“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot.

“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”

“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.

“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke.

luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you.

“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point.

and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.

none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves.

you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”

luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.”

“they went alone?”

“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”

“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.”

luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies.

“don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.

it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed.

“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”

you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you.

“nothing,” he answers instinctively.

“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter.

“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”

“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”

“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?”

it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky.

“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.

of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.

“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“noth—”

“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”

the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.

so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is.

for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks.

dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander.

the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches.

but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.

working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created.

he did it for you, even if you won't understand.

he'd do anything for you.

so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch.

—

in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.

gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned.

you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm.

“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers.

“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”

“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”

a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for.

“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke.

for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him.

and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense.

you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through.

“you never told me about your dad.”

ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.

you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it.

“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.”

you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.

“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.

“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”

“that’s….that’s different.”

“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”

“which is?”

you debate telling luke the truth.

it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.

“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit.

another pause, this time from the other side of the bed.

“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”

you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.

“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”

“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”

in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling.

“always so dramatic,” you tease.

deep down, you know you’re not much better.

luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.

it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t.

truthfully, it still scares you.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”

you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.

"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."

he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.

"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?

"luke —"

"i have to sort it out on my own.”

"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”

another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything.

eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:

"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up."

"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."

you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.

"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."

luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more.

"do you really mean that?"

his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away.

“of course.”

you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body.

neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.

you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later.

for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more.

it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time.

eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers. instinctively, you start rutting against him.

“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong.

luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin.

“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”

“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”

you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”

“good girl.”

your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go.

you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.

it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians.

secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.

"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.

you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers."

luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there.

"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says:

“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.

luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal.

as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again.

you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.

“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you."

in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”

sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time.

this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep.

you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.

with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you.

"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?"

all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words.

you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.

"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop."

you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.

"y-yes, luke."

"are you mine?"

you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.

you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.

"i'm yours," you promise.

luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.

satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours.

it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.

the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high.

luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.

“did you just —”

the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.

"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."

luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.

"you’re so fucking hot."

your heart flutters.

“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.”

he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating.

“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "

"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself.

maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do.

you want more. you need more.

"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"

"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought.

you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.

"shit. i don't have another one.”

"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.

you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you.

"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"

“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."

luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:

“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?

before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face.

"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."

you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer.

"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings.

luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed.

"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”

luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."

you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours.

made for each other.

you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too.

“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck.

“don’t,” you command.

“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.

“i just want to feel you this once.”

he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet.

luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before.

even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.

this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.

wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —

“are you okay?”

his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.

you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach.

"i didn't hurt you, did i?"

“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”

luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.

“you’ve never said that before.”

“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.

luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.”

your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.

“oh, shit.…”

you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully.

of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.

because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job.

“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”

luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."

"you do?" your heart resumes its beating.

"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”

“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”

“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"

"they like the smell of begging."

luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek.

"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t —”

“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”

you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words.

the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would.

the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast.

luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face.

evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.

outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.

luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place."

you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.

"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes."

the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards.

"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.

you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips.

"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."

luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:

"i love you."

your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.

because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.

you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed.

it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.

no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.

just this.

#the way this became a whole chapter....i've got wayyy too much to say i guess #i really wanted to incorporate the trio into this series a bit more and how others see luke + karma's relationship #also i forget who said it but smut as a character study....yeah <3 #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x nemesis!reader #luke castellan x you #pjo fanfic #pjo #luke castellan fanfic #saf writes

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eyesxxyou · 7 months

Note

Not anon since I actually wanna see this in my notifications if you do this requestlmao:

HOBIE WITH A VIRGIN READER, But:

Plot twist, reader is vulgar, she wears semi-skimpy clothing, always making stupid (yet creative) sex jokes like ‘that’s what she said’ etc, Make-out champ and stuff but in reality she just does whatever and it works for Hobie when it was a wild guess. Like- sexually experienced she definitely isn’t yet always acts confident

Knocking out 2 requests in one

{★} .. hobie brown x black!plus size!reader

rating. m

word count. 2.3k

synopsis. hobie never expected you to be a virgin and he's totally okay with that but you are not.

you and hobie mutually masterbate

🍓・．warnings❕no p in v sex, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex not advised, clothed sex, fingering, praise, cum on pussy, pussy job, Hobie as a dick piercing, mentions of religion and blasphemy, aftercare

If you had told Hobie you of all people were a virgin before the two of you had started dating, he would have thought you were pulling his leg. You? You in your skimpy clothes that deliciously left nothing to the imagination? You and the well-developed curves you loved to show off? You and your teasing innuendos? No way in hell you were a virgin, but alas, here you were after making out with him for the past 10 minutes, stalling really because you— in a crop top so small he could see the beginnings of your full breasts and low-rise jeans that showed off your waist beads partially hidden under the pudge of your stomach— had no idea what the hell to do beyond that.

Not that Hobie believed in the concept of “virginity”. He simply believed that people either have had sex before or they haven’t and either way, one does not make the more pure or better than the other. But still, you never had sex? With the confidence you had in your body— confidence well deserved— he assumed that you had left a long line of broken hearts in your sexy stride.

“Well, is this sometin’ you wanna do? I don’ want you to feel like you gotta do anytin’ wit’ me.” Communication was important in moments like these. If he was going to be your first sexual experience, he wanted to make a good impression, didn’t want to leave you scarred and traumatized.

You signed a little, your confident demeanor melting away just a little while you spoke. “I just don’t think I’m ready to go all the way, ya know? I’m sorry if you wanted mor—”

“Don’t be sorry, luv. Never be sorry ova tha’. We don’t gotta do anytin’,” Hobie assured you with a slight caress to your thick thigh the size of his literal head. There was something almost commercial about the difference in your sizes and body types. No one would expect someone so tall and lanky to be with a person so short and chubby but anyone who dared to comment on it could expect get their head bashed in by Hobie’s guitar.

“NO, no, I want to do something, just not that yet. I’m still a little…unsure about it but you think we can try something else?” You asked, hopeful that he’d be down for something a little more unconventional, but you knew Hobie preferred unconventional to anything else. “Of course, wha’cha thinkin’?” He siddled up next to you, his lips caressing the round of your cheek while his hand grasped the fat of your ass. All of this, so much of your to love and worship. He wanted to leave a mark on every piece of flesh he could get his hands on, lavish over every part no revealed to the world, parts few and far between but all the more sacred because of it.

You gently scratched at the nape of his neck while his hands roamed tenderly across you body, careful not to make you uncomfortable and fully prepared to pull away at any sign that you weren’t feeling it anymore. “Let's masturbate in front of each other.”

“You’ve been tinkin’ ‘bout this fo a while, then?” It came too fast from your lips to be anything you thought of on the spot. You slapped him on the shoulder but did not deny his claim because you have. It would be a lie to say you haven’t been thinking of him sitting in one of his many bean bag chairs with his legs spread apart, his hand stroking the length of his cock while he watched you use your fingers to stretch out your unused pussy. You thought about what he’d look like when he came. What the consistency of his cum looked like, what it tasted like. Did he shudder when he came, did he whine a little, did he moan and groan, you needed to know.

“Please Hobie, I really wanna try it.” You pulled back to give him your infamous puppy eyes, hoping that might be what convinces him. If only you knew he’d do absolutely anything you asked him to because his worship of you bordered on the lines of blasphemy. “Of course, luv.”

WIth one last kiss, the two of you parted completely, Hobie getting up to go sit on a chair across from his bed where he left you. A bit anxious, you began to fumble with the button to your your spared jeans in a some rush to get them off like you were going to miss some deadline.

“Come’ere.” Hobie motioned you over with his fingers and without a second to hesitate, you obeyed, walking over to him with a wrinkle in your jeans at your embarrassing attempt to get them off. He reached up, his eyes locking in with yours while his long, slender fingers skillfully doing what your chubby, stout ones could not. His hands traced the curve of your hip as he placed a soft kiss against the pudge of your belly. “Take’em off slow fa me. Gimme a show, luv.” WIth that, he removed his hands from your body and leaned back in the chair to enjoy the performance he prompted you to put on.

Pretending to be sexy was something you absolutely could do. You stepped back a bit, trailing your hands up and down the length of your torso to caress the curves of your body. Hobie let out something of a sigh as you slipped your thumbs into the waist of your pants and the band of your thong to pull them down simultaneously.

You turned around to face away from him, working your pants down your hips and your legs in a seductive manner before taking them all the way to the floor and flashing just a peek of that little pussy of yours at him as you stepped out of your clothes and kicked them to the side. And by the time you turned back around, Hobie already had his cock out, half-hard in his hand as he stroked his twitching length.

It was pretty, long, veiny, chocolate brown in color with a slightly lighter tip leaking dribbles of precum over his knuckles. He had a piercing through the head of it, a Prince Albert. You wanted to kiss it, have it in your mouth, slave over it, suck it like it was your favorite flavor of lolli. Anything Hobie-flavored was your favorite.

You moved back, maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend as the back of your knees his the edge of the bed and you fell onto it, now making eye contact with the thick monster he had between his legs. The sight of it made your pussy quiver at the thought of it being closer, being inside of you one day, fucking the daylights out of you.

"Go ahead, spread those legs fa me, baby. I wanna see tha' pretty pussy of ya's." Hobie sighed out, his cock now to its full length. If he were to let it go, it would rest well to his belly button. He stoked a little harder, anticipating the sight of your cunt on display for him to enjoy and him alone. There was an odd sort of perverted satisfaction he got knowing that you’d never had a sexual experience with anyone else other than him. No one in the entire world got to see this beautiful sight as your propped your feet up on the bed and spread them to reveal your sacred little hole, glistening and wet with arousal leaking out of it.

You used one hand to place behind you so you could hold yourself up while the other was used to rub your fingers in the mess your pussy made of itself, spreading the slick to your clit where you put most of your focus. Hobie hummed from across the room, a soft, wet fapping sound emanating from him as he fucked his hand a little harder, using his precum as lube to slick his path while he pretended it was in fact your sticky juices coating his cock.

You bit your bottom lip, watching with hooded eyes the way he fucked his own hand like he wanted to fuck you, nice and evenly paced but ultimately desperate for release. In some feeble attempt to imitate what his length might feel like stirring up your guts, you slipped a finger into your inexperienced hole, that being the most you could ever manage to fit. But it left you severely disappointed as you knew one of your tiny fingers could never even imagine imitating the length and girth of that pretty cock of his.

You thumb at your clit to the pace that his hand rubbed his cock, his own thumb stroking his sensitive head each time it got the chance to. “Hobie~” You whined for him as your head fell back and your eyes closed, the pleasure of it all so overwhelming. But Hobie snapped at you between breathless groans. “Keep ya eyes on me, baby. I wanna see ya eyes.” So you opened them and looked at him, his hand fucking himself even harder now, his hips bucking uncontrollably from pleasure.

You could only imagine what the sight for him looked like, a finger in your pussy with your thumb on your clit, fingers wet down to the knuckle, lips wet from your tongue. Open and desperate for him as your back arched and your pussy trembled. “Please–” You begged of him. “I want your cum on my cunt. Please…Hobie.” You didn’t just want it, you needed it. You needed to feel the essence of him coating your pussy you wanted your fingers to play in in, to slip your messy fingers into your mouth and taste him.

“You wan’ me to cum on ya pussy, dirty girl?” Hobie began to sit up, ready to give you just what you asked for. You whimpered, nodding in desperation, watching him make his way over and push you back onto the bed. He pulled your hand away from your core and tapped the tip of his weeping cock against your clit, letting out a few wet smacks at the contact before he grabbed the thickest part of your thighs and forced them up to your chest. “‘m gonna give ya jus’ what’cha wan’.” His voice was dark, feral. His piercing glistened with precum as he stroked his cock between your swollen, wet pussy lips.

Everytime he pulled back, his tip positioned itself right at your entrance, always threatening to push itself inside and give you all you were looking for. But it never did. It just stroked yoru hole a bit before gliding over it, his cock rubbing your pussy and clit until you were crying out his name like it was the only thing you could remember to say.

Each stroke of his cock left you more sensitive than the last, each rub of your clit sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. An orgasm just on the horizon threatened to crash over you and destroy you much like a tsunami. It built itself in the pit of your stomach, your legs trembling and flexing in an attempt to close themselves and cast him out to avoid the unfamiliar feeling but Hobie forced them open without a care. “Open, keep’em open fa me.”

“Hobie, please, I can’t!”

“Yes you can, luv. I’m almost there.” He thrust against your pussy so hard his balls began to slap against your ass. “You wan’ my cum on ya pussy, righ’? You wan’ me to defile you, make ya all dirty fo me?” You nodded vigorously. You wanted that more than anything else in the world right now.

“Then take this dick.” Something about those words sent you over the edge. The tsunami crashed over you and seized your body like a demon. Your back arched off of the bed, muscles spasming and thrashing with an orgasm of an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Hobie!” You cried out his name, pussy spasming as you came. Hobie kept stroking, kept fucking, kept pleasing despite your calls, his breathy moans all you can hear as he nears his own orgasm.

And when it comes, so does he. His hips still and his cock twitches as he releases all over the face of your cunt. He coats your clit, your lips, your hole and paints them in milky white before spreading it about with his cock. “Goood girl.” He cooed at you in praise, slapping his cock in the mess he’s made of you. He claimed you as his, his for life. He owned this pretty pussy. It belonged to him. “Why does this pussy belong to?”

“You, Hobie, you.” You whimpered as he slapped his dick a little more against your pussy, sending jolts of overstimulating pleasure through your body until your toes curled.

“Tha’s righ’, don’ forget i’.” He bent over between your legs and kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth as his hand grabbed a fistful of your breasts. His cock was soft now, but it if kept stroking against your pussy, it would quickly be otherwise so he better stop while he’s ahead. “You did so good, luv. So good to me, so good fa me.” He bit your bottom lip as you hummed breathlessly into his mouth. “Lemme get you cleaned up.”

Hobie stood up and tucked himself away before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. You heard the water running for a little, some shuffling in the bathroom before Hobie came back with the washcloth damp. He parted your legs a little more and used the cloth to watch you, apologizing with a soft kiss to your knee and you jolted and whined when he went over your clit. And once he’s done he tosses the cloth into the dirty clothes and climbs into bed with you to hold you, whispering soft praises into you ear so you don’t feel used or taken advantage of.

“I love you.” He whispered as you were just on the cusp of slumber and took no offense when you snored softly as a response.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie broen x plus size!reader

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swordcreature · 5 months

Note

okay so that last last post you made said Dammon had a scent kink, but what about Rolan and Zevlor?

mmmmmmmm listen okay i enjoyed this too much honestly but i feel like i could literally write an entire fic centered around Dammon the panty stealer okay. idk why it just calls to me. so thank you hehe

Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Scent Kink

very NSFW, adult themes, etc etc. MDNI/18+

Tiefling boys and getting off to Tav's scent

Dammon:

I’ve made my feelings on this known before, but the man is dirty! I honestly feel like the smutty book he has in his room is one of the tamer ones he owns, somehow. And then he literally smells the malfunctioning components of Karlach’s heart, so we know he has a good nose. Put them together and the scent kink just makes sense!

He's not just interested in the pretty scents either– how they smell like flowers right after a wash or how their hair always seems to bring with it the scent of a campfire. No, it’s all of them.

The way they smell after sex: the salty, earthiness of their sweat as it mixes with the floral perfume of their soap.

How they come into the forge with a tangy musk after having ran around all day in their warm armor.

Even the bitter metallic odor that permeates their clothes after trying to wash all the blood out.

It never fails to stir something in him deep down, like a primal instinct to lay them bare and take them like a wild animal.

His favorite scent though? Their arousal.

Maybe it’s because he’s a tiefling with a superior sense of smell, but the way they smell when they get heated, wetness pulling in their smallclothes. It raises the hairs on his neck with pure want.

Dammon isn’t proud of it, but when Tav isn’t around he’ll steal a pair of their underthings that haven’t made it to the wash yet (only if they’re in a relationship of some sort, okay he’s not an animal) so that he can really enjoy himself. The smell alone makes him so hard he can feel the wet spot forming in his own pants.

He’ll touch himself right then and there with nothing but Tav’s scent in his nose and his hand around his cock. And it’s the hardest orgasm he’s ever been able to give himself.

But Tav always ends up wondering where their underwear went? They know they had more when they moved in with Dammon!

Rolan:

Rolan will never, ever admit he enjoys a good filthy sniff or two. Even to himself. Nope, he’s not some ‘degenerate’, thank you.

And to be fair he isn’t as down bad as Dammon. I think out of the three, he’s the least likely to have a true scent kink.

He can be a little pretentious at times, and definitely doesn’t like what he considers to be bad odors. Things like potent, musky sweat just aren’t his cup of tea to be honest.

He’ll enjoy the smell of Tav’s clothes because it reminds him of home for some reason, and he always ends up feeling at ease when the minty smell of their breath washes over him.

But he’s a total sucker for the smell of sex.

The way the room smells head and organic after they’ve just fucked over his desk.

Or the smell of their sheets as their cum and arousal and sweat all mix together.

Makes him ready for another round almost immediately.

When he’s alone and touching himself, he’ll sometimes stop to smell the sheets just to try and catch a whiff of the last time they had sex. I’m talking on all fours, nose pressed into the bed, hand around himself desperately.

Nothing ever makes him throb as hard as when he goes down on Tav, their slick on his hands and chin and lips. When he’s absolutely positive that Tav is too far gone to notice, he’ll sit and take in the sweet musk of their wetness, it makes his mouth water like the bouquet of a fine wine.

Tav jokes that Rolan gets a renewed vigor for oral after they cum the first time, but they never know why that is.

Zevlor:

Alright Zevlor fuckers this may be controversial. But. Zevlor is BIG into sweat. I just know it. He has to have some dirty secrets up his sleeves somewhere!

Like, you know the way someone smells after a long day in the sun outside? Kind of like dirt and warmth and just a tinge of bitterness?

That shit drives him mad. Feral.

I don’t even think he realizes it for a while. He just thinks he’s particularly pent up on those days and that’s why he’s taking Tav into the bedroom at his first chance, or furiously tugging himself off after they get home.

But one day they’re both in bed, sweating and breathless and sore. Zevlor leans in to kiss them and instinctively takes a whiff of them. And it’s almost a bad smell but not quite, it’s uniquely Tav. It makes him groan out loud.

It’s very clear to him after that.

He’s like Dammon: a clothes thief. But his go to is shirts, especially after an intense day of training or after an incredibly hot day.

He will never, ever let Tav see this though. It’s too ungentlemanly and he would actually rather combust into flames than let them in on this little quirk of his.

That still doesn’t stop him from using their shirt to get himself off on days when they’re out of the city or when he’s sure he won’t be interrupted.

#bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #rolan #dammon #zevlor #dammon x tav #rolan x tav #zevlor x tav #baldur's gate 3 #requests/suggestions #lemonandhoneytea #my writing

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 11 months

Note

Can you do "Angry mommy morticica x r"?

when r flirt with marilyn and morticia had enough and decide to take r home and give her a painful punishment like 30 and they end up having comfort sex?

Hello there @batlove4ever 🙃 Thanks for the Morticia request!! I took some inspiration from @puppyboibutch , so check out their blog 💞🫰🏻 I also included a song for this Fic 😚🫶🏻 FYI this is pure. filthy. smut.

Pretty Pouty Puppy ~Morticia Addams xFem Reader xfeat. Marilyn Thornhill

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#30. “Fuck off” “What, on you?”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!!, smut, possible infidelity/cheating, possessiveness, possessiveness kink, kissing, overstimulation, smutty smut, mommy kink, punishment kink, angry mommy, pet names, bondage, vibrator use, orgasm denial, masturbation, overstimulation, strap-fucking, doggystyle, praise kink, implied degrading kink, bondage kink…?, etc.

Enjoy (;

You were straddling Marilyn’s lap on her chair, your lips intertwined with hers. You were both in her classroom, after school hours. Marilyn bucked her hips up into yours, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips into the red heads. You pulled back slightly and giggled.

“You really think this will work?” You panted.

You were met with a mischievous gaze from the red head.

“Babe, you said you wanted to make Morticia jealous right?” She reminded you of your past whinings and complaints of how nothing you did seemed to rile up the raven haired goddess.

You bit your lip and nodded with a cheeky grin.

“Trust me, this will get her panties in a twist…” Marilyn chuckled, “I already texted her; all we have to do is wait for—”

Your lips smashed back into Marilyn’s before she could finish her sentence. You were one hundred percent on board with this, because Marilyn was right. You wanted to make Morticia jealous, you had tried literally everything and you were desperate.

With a swift swing, Marilyn’s door suddenly opened. Everything went so silent, you swore you could have heard a pin drop… You froze in the red heads lap. Your breath hitched. You could feel the tension in the room. You could hear her breathing right alongside yours and Marilyn’s.

“Up. Right now.” Morticia gritted out.

You scurried out of Marilyn’s lap and stood by her desk, biting your lips and blushing. Morticia stalked her way over to you.

“I have tried to be patient.” She jeered, “I watched you mess around with her, watched you flirt with her, and now I find my puppy straddling her lap…”

You gulped.

Maybe you had taken this too far…? You completely underestimated how much your antics had actually gotten to the woman…

“I… I’m… sorry…” you chocked out, blushing furiously and looking to the ground.

Morticia chuckled wickedly.

“We’re going home. Not a single word.” She seethed.

You nodded immediately.

Marilyn sent you caring look as you quickly followed Morticia out. The whole ride to your house was silent. You clenched your thighs in anticipation.

“I want you on the bed, stripped, and kneeling waiting for Mommy.” Morticia practically growled, as you pulled into the driveway.

“Yes mommy…” you whimpered.

With that, you scurried your ass up to your shared bedroom, stripping as fast as humanly possible, and kneeling on the bed in wait for Morticia. Your heart was racing and your breathing was erratic as Morticia entered the room, wearing nothing but her black garter lingerie set. You gulped. Morticia walked up you, craning over your pathetically needy excuse for a body, and grabbing your chin.

“Mommy’s angry…” Morticia growled, “And you’re gonna pay, pet…”

“Yes mommy…” you whimpered.

~~~

“Oh puppy…” Morticia wickedly purred, “you look delicious all tied up like this… and that vibrator must feel so good on that needy pussy of yours!”

You mewled and pulled against your silk ties, restraining you to all four bedposts.

“Making such pathetic sounds, such a slutty pet…” she lustfully growled.

You incoherently cried out in pleasurable pain. She’d been at this for hours… But you couldn’t get enough, your hips desperately rutting against the the toy. But she wouldn’t let you cum.

“Little bitch in heat who needs to fuck so badly, hmmmm pet…?” Morticia tauntingly growled, “Too bad Mommy’s puppy has been such a bad girl…”

You squirmed in your restrained hold, the slight pain in your wrists and ankles, pushing you to the edge even further.

“That’s why Mommy has you tied there with that pretty little vibrator…” The raven haired goddess lustfully husked.

“Please mommy please…!” You whimpered and whined, desperate for some proper friction.

“Your little whimpers and whines will make the perfect background noise while Mommy makes herself feel good…” Morticia wickedly purred.

“Oh mommy no please…!!” You mewled, “mommy I’m sorry… I’ll be good mommy please!!”

Suddenly the vibrator went up a intensity, causing you to practically keel over in pleasure. But you couldn’t come. It was becoming painfully difficult.

And then you had to watch Morticia spread out on the big lounge chair across from the bed. She stripped her knickers and spread her legs so that you could see her glistening pussy perfectly. You groaned at the sight. She then began skillfully fucking herself while drinking in the sight of your pathetic being.

“Keep being good like this and I’ll personally breed you after I finish…” Morticia lustfully purred.

“Yes mommy I’ll be so good…!! Won’t cum promise please!!” You cried out.

“Fuck Mon Amour—! That’s a good pet…!” Morticia groaned as she fucked herself to her climax, toppling over the edge with a sinful cry.

~~~

You were still tied up and the vibrator was still relentlessly working your dripping hole.

“Are you going to be good now, puppy…?” Morticia purred.

“Yes wanna cum please let me cum mommy!!” You pled.

“Oh no no…” Morticia wickedly tutted, “You don’t get to cum yet…”

You were so frustrated and you made the grave mistake of speaking out…

“Fuck off…!” You cried out.

Morticia cocked an eyebrow at your sudden disobedience.

“What, on you?” She spat back.

“Wait no no— mommy I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’ll be good…!!” You cried, pulling against your restraints even more.

~~~

When Morticia finally relented on edging you on for hours, you were in for a whole other level of her anger…

She had you on all fours in the middle of the bed with your hands bound in front of you. She was pounding into you relentlessly with her favorite, girthy strap. Her hand was deliciously wrapped in your hair, as she pulled your head back towards her with each thrust.

“Fuck GOD Mommy—!!!” You cried out.

Mascara was running down your face and your clit was so sensitive you thought you would explode if you didn’t cum.

“That’s it’s, puppy…” Morticia angrily growled, “Take Mommy’s dick like a good little pet…”

~~~

By the end of the night (more like into the early morning), Morticia had milked the upteenth orgasm from you, finally allowing you to collapse from exhaustion and overstimulation.

Morticia was quick to throw the strap to the side and open her arms for you to snuggle her form. You happily complied, nuzzing into her form.

“I’m sorry Mommy…” you whispered.

“It’s alright, baby…” she husked in your ear, “but the next time you want Mommy’s attention, all you have to do is ask…”

You nuzzled your face into the crook of her neck and nodded, causing the raven haired goddess to chuckle.

“Such a good girl…” she murmured as you drifted off.

~~~

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favoniuscodex · 2 years

Text

pulling them by their collar [ diluc, itto, & childe ]

prompt: how they react when you pull them close by their collar/necklace/tie/etc. !!! characters: diluc, itto, childe (separate) w/ a gn!reader warnings: adult innuendos (diluc & childe)! canon-typical violence (diluc). reader wears glasses (itto). please be 16+ to read (just for my own comfort bc there's a few saucy topics) word count: ~2.0k a/n: this is a collab w/ the lovely rulaine! (@rulaineyu) !!! she wrote the same prompt but for zhongli, thoma, kaeya, & ayato! read them here!!

DILUC:

It's not like you meant to be rendezvousing with a man every night and gallivanting through the streets until dawn. It kind of just... happened. When you're a vigilante in a city that is in dire need of assistance, it's practically inevitable to team up with the other masked strangers on the street. You had paired up with the one woman who was definitely one of the Church of Favonius Sisters, even if she looked repulsed at your suggestion that she was such a figure. But now, you're paired with the most infamous of vigilantes yet: Mondstadt's very own Darknight Hero.

You've always wanted to be the best, but much to your behest, the Darknight Hero is fantastic at helping you clear out hilichurl camps on the edge of Mondstadt. You aren't quite sure why he's helping you when he could easily just complete these tasks on his own, but his presence means less work on your plate. Less tasks on the outside of the city means more helping the people inside the walls, which is always a good thing.

"You did well," The Darknight Hero says, causing you to jump out of your thoughts. "Your weapon is helpful for dealing with the archers."

You're spooked at him speaking for once. Usually, the two of you work in silence, communicating only through brief hand signals. Yet, you're even more spooked at the fact that he seemed to sense your self-doubt. It means you aren't concealing yourself as well as you'd like. You straighten your posture.

"Thank you," You say, looking at the mask that covers his eyes and the hood that covers his hair. The apples of his cheeks are still revealed and you swear they seem so familiar.

"Is there a way I can assist you that would red-" Your partner begins, but you quickly tune him out as you hear a twig snap in the distance. You look past him and he thinks nothing of your sudden loss of attention. In one hand, your polearm weighs heavy, but you reach the other hand out and grab the first thing you can think of: the choker that peeks out from underneath his cloak. Your fingers clasp around the red jewel in the center and you tug him far too harshly, sending him stumbling into you.

"Wha-" He begins before you hastily shove his larger figure off of you and step around him, charging towards the direction of the snapped branch and flinging your polearm like a javelin. The final hilichurl cries as your polearm makes contact, knocking it out of the tree it was hiding in. You let out a sigh of relief before turning back to him, grimacing apologetically in his direction.

Now on the ground, the Darknight Hero stares up at you with a flushed face and pure admiration in his expression. His chest heaves heavily as he recovers from you tugging on his collar, before a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

"I am not necessarily against playing rough with you," The Darknight Hero says, causing you to scoff. "But a warning next time would be appreciated."

Ignoring the way your heart flutters at his flirty remark, you shoot him a warning glare before pointing to the flaming hilichurl arrow that is extinguishing itself in the spot where he was previously standing. With the disguise of his mask, your fellow vigilante seems to find himself to be too comfortable with you. Unfortunately for him, you've realized just who he is.

"C'mon, Diluc," You say condescendingly, watching as his eyes blow wide. "I can tug on your collar more later if you'd like, but we gotta clear out the rest of these hilichurls."

"Wai-" He begins, but you huff and turn away and go to retrieve your polearm, leaving him chasing after you.

ITTO:

“Babe!”

You look up from your newly purchased light novel at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. He charges towards you with cupped hands and you spot the horns of an onikabuto peeking over his fingers. A victorious grin spreads across his lips as he stops in front of you.

“Guess who just won their latest bug fight?” Itto laughs proudly. “This guy! I’d point to myself but I can’t drop my special champion.”

You smile sweetly up at him, pushing up the bridge of your glasses to better focus on him instead of the pages below. At this angle, Itto blocks out most of your reading sunlight with his towering figure, but you had no intention of continuing the book in your hands. No matter how enthralling the plot was, you would much rather give your undivided attention to the man in front of you, especially when he always does the same for you. Thus, you slide the picture of Itto that you use as a bookmark between the pages and set the novel to the side, causing Itto to gasp with interest.

“That’s the book you were gonna get later, right? I thought it wasn’t released yet!” Itto says excitedly. He fumbles with the bug in his hands as it crawls over the edge of his fingers and onto his knuckles. You laugh gently and gesture to the basket next to you.

“I went for my usual books of the week, but Miss Yae was there and gave me an advanced copy,” you say sheepishly. The victorious onikabuto continues to crawl circles around Itto’s hands and you giggle before lifting up the opening to your book basket. “Put him in here.”

“You sure?” Itto asks before grinning even wider as you nod in response. Gently, he lets the onikabuto crawl out of his hands and into the safety of your basket. “He can read the books and get even smarter!”

“He’s already pretty strong if he won a bug fight…” you say, closing the vented lid to the basket. “What if he gets too strong?”

“Well, he won’t be stronger than me,” Itto says confidently. “I’ll protect you!”

At your boyfriend’s haughty tone, you giggle again. The sound causes a faint blush to rise to his cheeks, but his confident posture fails to change.

"How'd the fight go? Y'know, besides the whole winning part?" You ask and your boyfriend practically jumps in place with excitement at your question.

"There was this new guy at the fighting grounds," Itto says, as if the onikabuto fighting grounds aren't just wherever the closest patch of dirt is. "I think his brother brought him or something. He said he had an onikabuto he wanted to fight with and I immediately challenged him, because who better to be your first challenger than the toughest oni out there? Either way, no matter how big his beetle was, he didn't stand a chance against the Beetle Gladiator's beetles! Arataki beetles can't b-"

As your boyfriend rambles about his victory, you can't help but space off. You want to pay attention, but the cute furrow of his brow as he recounts every detail has you focusing more on his appearance than his words. Deciding to save him the breath, you clear his throat.

"Not to interrupt your well-deserved victory speech," you say slyly. "But there's something on your face?"

"Oh, there is? It's probably some of the dango I had earlier," Itto hastily wipes his hand across his mouth and you stifle a mischievous giggle.

"No, that's not it, lean down a little bit so I can get a better look!" You say and Itto obliges.

"Just let me kn-" Itto begins, but you cut him off by hooking a finger through the loop on his choker, just above his Vision. You tug him close, unable to hold back a victory laugh of your own as a vibrant red flush takes over his cheeks. Speechless, Itto stares at you with wonder. You swoop in before he can recollect his thoughts and place a kiss on his nose.

"Got it!" You say proudly and Itto continues to stare at you blankly. The gears in his head struggle to catch up with your brazen actions and he lets out a soft whine.

"You can't leave me with just that, lovebug," he grumbles. You giggle at his flustered state and, at the sound of your laughter, Itto leans forward and steals a kiss from your lips, determined to get yet another victory. You lean into his kiss, letting him hold you close until you run out of air.

"C'mon," you say breathlessly as you pull away from him. "Let's go get some victory snacks!"

CHILDE:

"So? How do I look?"

Your boyfriend is egotistical. Sure, he's earned most of his ego, especially as the youngest Harbinger, but that doesn't mean you like to encourage narcissistic behavior. It is important to retain a level head, especially in a position of power like his. You like to think you're pretty good at keeping him balanced, but as he exits the bathroom to present himself to you, you feed directly into his narcissism, staring at him with wide eyes.

Childe splays his arms out wide, showing off his perfectly tailored black tie suit to you. He often avoids such formal clothing, but the Fatui have shed their typical formal coats to opt for a more modern style of dress for the evening. Typically, you're more than happy to not be by his side at boring political parties, but you're mentally punching the air with jealousy at the knowledge that everyone else gets to see him in this outfit all evening. The suit clings to his waist and shoulders perfectly, sculpting out his figure with flattering precision.

You press your lips together, swallowing heavily.

"You look... nice," you say politely. Childe bursts out into laughter at your formal response.

"Well, it seems as though I know what to wear when I want you to fling yourself at me so we can-" He begins, but you cut him off by clearing your throat. You can't think of anything like that right now or you won't let him leave the door without tearing at least one piece of his clothing off. You smile politely and Childe looks utterly enthralled by your barely contained desire.

"Where is your tie?" you ask sweetly, as if you aren't swooning and falling in love with him all over again at the sight of him in a suit for the first time.

"Oh! Let me go get it. Gotta complete the look for my most adoring fan, huh?"

He slips back into the bathroom before you can chastise him for his teasing. As quick as he departs, your boyfriend returns. You stare at the cloth knot that now sits on his neck and move from your position on the bed. You walk over to him and Childe grins haughtily at you.

"You look good," you say as you stand in front of him. "But your tie is crooked."

"Is it?"

"Yup," you say, wrapping your hand around his tie, fingers curling atop his collarbone. "Let me fix it."

You tug him forward and Childe stumbles, but quickly regains himself as his lips crash into yours. The kiss is messy, and Childe laughs into your lips as his hands instinctively steady themselves on your waist. Before you can pull away and let him return to getting ready, Childe deepens the kiss, hungrily moving his lips against your own. When the two of you part, Childe's cheeks are flushed with exertion and your own lips are slightly swollen.

"I could be late," he offers, and this time, its your turn to laugh at his want for you. His hands loosely rest on your waist and you move your hands to his chest, splaying them out on the black fabric of his tuxedo.

"Oh? Really?" You feign interest. Childe looks hopeful, but you watch as his dreams shatter as you push yourself back from his chest with a giggle. "I don't think you're allowed to be. You're a Harbinger and all."

"You don't have to remind me," Childe whines as you lazily make your way back to the bed. "At least help me fix my tie, babe."

You giggle. "I know I messed it up, but if I help you fix it, you really aren't leaving the house."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #diluc x reader #childe x reader #childe fluff #diluc fluff #itto x reader #itto fluff #axia.writing #writing.itto #writing.childe #writing.diluc

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wntrs0ldier · 11 months

Text

An Offer · part 09

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 5,1k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.),

series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

It had only been a few hours since the whole disaster.

Before, you had thought that you would return to your family home purely to collect your things; now you were lying in your bed again, in a room buried in the darkness of the night, staring mindlessly at the white dress hanging over the back of a chair. You associated it not with being abandoned, but with the nightmare that was your wedding. Maybe Bucky was doing you a favor? He'd bought you some time before you had to go through all that again, to eventually tie the knot anyway?

You didn't blame him for doing it. He had made it clear to you right from the start that such a relationship was out of the question; in fact, he had told you so at every turn – that he wasn't husband material, that he wasn't trying to be charming, that he was a stubborn asshole, a piece of shit…

But the truth was – despite everything – you didn't see him that way. To you, he was just a scared, confused human trying to do this for you. He had failed, the situation had overwhelmed him, and all you could think about was how much you wanted to see him. Where was he now? What was he up to?

What did Timothy say to him?

Although Michael participated in this conversation, he did not want to reveal its details to you. He decided that it was a man's conversation, and it was better for you to stay in the dark about it. Apart from a businesslike, practical alliance, you no longer had anything in common with the Barnes. But if it had been up to you, you would have crushed that alliance and shoved it down Timothy's throat. However, destroying a long-standing friendship was not in your intentions, but one thing remained clear – Timothy Barnes wasn’t your friend. Now you weren't even sure he had ever been your father's friend. You understood that he cared about securing his Family, but he shouldn't have kept that from you.

You rolled onto your back, your eyes stuck on the ceiling.

At that point, you didn't really care what was going to happen next. You didn't care about your future or the fate of your Family; you figured you had every right to, since submitting to the expectations of others wasn't producing the desired results. You needed a moment without worrying about everything and everyone. You would have liked to focus entirely on yourself, but your thoughts revolved around him. It was far too soon to forget, but why couldn't you hate him? You were naive and weak. But you could allow yourself to be. At least until the morning.

Suddenly, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. You heard something, or you only thought you did, still, you froze motionless, listening to the sounds of your surroundings.

There it was again – a quiet knock, knock coming from somewhere downstairs.

Your heart beat almost painfully; you left the bed, hesitant and a little stiff, and although you immediately wanted to be at the door, you got out of the bedroom carefully, then went down the stairs to the floor below. Without thinking much, you turned the key in the lock and pulled the handle. And your first instinct was to be terribly disappointed when you found Sam Wilson behind the door.

“We don't have much time,” he began, before you had a chance to say anything. “I parked across the street. A black car,” he emphasized, as if you should remember this particular piece of information. “I will wait ten minutes. If you don't show up, the case will be closed. If you're going to show up, you'd better pack some things.” Without waiting for your answer, he turned and walked away.

You were more than surprised – completely thrown off guard. You had loads of questions, but no time to dwell on them. Sam had only given you ten minutes and you weren't going to waste a second. You couldn't even imagine what it could all mean, but you felt with all your being that you had to make the most of this opportunity. All the heaviness, the soreness, all the lethargy you had been stuck in for hours - it was all gone, replaced by a sudden adrenaline and a need for action.

When you rushed back into your bedroom, you immediately found the bag you had packed with Connie's help much earlier – you weren't sure where you were going to go after the wedding, so you wanted to be prepared, and even though the wedding didn't work out, the bag turned out to be a lifesaver. At least you were confident you'd make it to Sam's car in time.

You grabbed your phone, which you'd turned off anyway beforehand so you wouldn't have to talk to anyone, your charger from the bedside table, and pulled Bucky's sweatshirt from the wardrobe. Everything else you might need fit into the bag. Before just leaving the house, you slipped comfortable sneakers on your feet, meanwhile you turned on your phone and texted Suzie to lock up the house. In the process, you read a message from an unknown number; Sam had tried to contact you earlier.

You stepped out into the cool, refreshing night air. You threw your hood over your head, adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder, and, having taken a look around, walked to the other side of the street. You expected to find a typical SUV somewhere on your path, but after a dozen or so steps you reached an area where the only car was a black sedan. So Sam wanted to give the impression of being a civilian. You ran up to the car, and it started up ready to go before you touched the handle.

You shut the door behind you and looked around the interior of the vehicle, but the only person inside was Sam.

“What’s going on?” you asked. “Where are we going?”

“We're going to fix something.”

The car stopped in front of an isolated, abandoned hangar.

You were on pins and needles the whole way, and reaching – as it turned out – the destination didn't bring you peace of mind. Not having the slightest idea what you could expect, you were even more nervous.

You took your bag from the back seat and followed Sam to the entrance. He opened the heavy metal door with a creak indicating a lack of proper care for the building, and let you inside. For a hangar, the interior of this particular one was surprisingly dimly lit; the enormous space was unpleasantly cold.

You heard quiet, echoing footsteps, so you immediately turned to look in that direction. Seeing him, you unconsciously held your breath, and all the emotions bothering you that day, which had not yet found their way out, gathered in your eyes in the form of tears. As the first, salty, burning tear ran down your heated cheek, you dropped your bag so that you could freely cover your face with your hands; to hide from him in this moment of weakness.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Bucky said softly. You didn't even notice when he crossed the distance separating you and got right beside you. He scooped you into his arms, drew you close to his firm, warm body and closed yours in a strong yet gentle embrace; one of his hands remained in place, wrapped around your back, the other moved higher, to the back of your head – he stroked your hair tenderly, and you still felt like hiding, but this time not from him but from the whole world, in his arms; you wanted to melt into his body, into his broad chest.

“You f-fucking-,” you choked out between sobs, tightening your fingers on the material of his t-shirt.

“I know, Y/N. I acted like a dick,” he agreed without hesitation. “Cry it out, just like that,” he praised, keeping on stroking your hair. “Can you take a deep breath? Come on,” he instructed gently. Your chest was beginning to ache because of the spasms of crying clenching your muscles, so you obediently breathed air into your lungs. “Yeah, just like that.”

You knew what you had to do next, and Bucky knew what you needed. Clarity of mind and calm slowly returned to you, but there was still that most important part.

You lifted your head and looked at Bucky’s face, therefore meeting his gaze. He was watching you in such a soft, vulnerable way that made you feel like crying all over again. He moved his hand from the back of your head to the side of your face and tenderly wiped your wet cheek; you could feel his skin on your skin, and the bandage he must have used to wrap the cut in his palm.

That reminded you of the situation from a few hours ago; of the lack of knowledge regarding your appearance here. Despite everything, you didn't have the slightest desire to break out of his arms. Why would you deprive yourself of this comfort and sense of safety? You deserved it, especially after the events of the last twenty-four hours; maybe even the last few months.

“You left me,” you finally spoke, your voice weak because of all the crying.

“Only for a moment.”

“For a moment?” Your forehead puckered. “You destroyed the agreement,” you said, pulling away from him against your will. A flash of mild anger didn't let you stand as close as before. “We are no longer married, I am alone again and still need a husband,” you pointed, determined to make Bucky realize the situation he had put you in.

He sighed heavily. “I know what I did. But I didn't do it without a reason,” he claimed, making you even more confused. He clenched his jaw briefly, not taking his eyes off you. “I owe my uncle a debt. After my father's death, I should’ve been the head of the Family, but I couldn't handle it, I wasn't in the right place. Timothy stepped in, helped me out,” he admitted reluctantly. “Now he wants complete obedience from me; he expects me to do absolutely everything for him, and basically, he is right, because otherwise it would be a betrayal. But I couldn't let him use this against you. You don't owe him anything.”

Now you understood his position – you understood it, and in that moment you hated the feeling, your forbearance. But you said nothing; just folded your arms, waiting for further explanation.

“We can still get married,” Bucky continued. “But outside his rules and conditions.”

Your eyes went round, that familiar wave of warmth ran through your body. “What… What do you mean?”

“All we have to do is actually get married. Legally, without any deals, tricks or fucking loopholes.” He took a small step towards you, and probably didn't predict that you wouldn't move away this time. “We'll just create a proper prenup, and when you want to divorce, you'll get back everything that was yours before the marriage.”

You raised your eyebrows. Up to now you had been convinced that he had run away because he didn't want to get married, and it turned out that he wanted to get married again. You didn't even know which question you should ask first. “Buck…” you said tentatively, as if that would bring him back to his senses. “An actual marriage is something different, something more... real.”

“People get married for various reasons,” he asserted, not giving up. Your sceptical approach was no obstacle. “For money, insurance, visas…” Bucky listed casually. And he was himself again – a calculating, clear-thinking strategist. He impressed the hell out of you with that. “As my wife, you will still become part of my Family, and this’ll give you protection. Except it will all happen more naturally, not like my uncle wanted. We will have more freedom.”

There was still too much chaos in your head for you to be able to pick out any rational thought. “Wait…” You raised your hand, closing your eyes for a moment. “Why didn't you tell me any of this earlier? Why did you leave me like that? I was scared to death.”

“My plan was just coming clear then, at the wedding,” he confessed, his lips pressed together in an unenthusiastic smile. “I didn't want to tell you about it till I was sure. Till I could find some safe place for us.”

His words effectively made you soft. “And did you find one..?”

You could see that for a split second he hesitated; as if he wasn't sure how you would react to further news. “Vegas..?”

“Of course Vegas.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Look, it'll be quick and relatively painless.”

“I haven't agreed yet.”

“Then why didn't you take off the ring?”

Your eyes wandered to your hand. Bucky was a little too observant for your taste; his grandmother's ring stayed on your finger. Unlike the wedding band. Maybe you kept it subconsciously, since the ring had such sentimental value?

“You already ran away once, so why do you still want this? You could’ve never come back, wouldn't it be easier?” Having looked back at his face, you could tell he wasn’t offended by your question.

“You still need me. This marriage,” Bucky answered, and didn't do it with audacity or meanness; he was simply stating a fact. “And Timothy fucked me over, so I want to do the same to him, just for the hell of it.” He shrugged indifferently. For a while, he stared at you in silence. “And… I didn't see through his intrigue, because I was distracted… By you.” His jaw clenched. You swallowed hard, your palms became wet, and a warmth flared up again in the pit of your stomach. Bucky turned his gaze away, sticking it into the ground. “So, I need this marriage too, I guess.”

You took an uneven breath and scratched the back of your neck. Bucky was distracted by thoughts of your safety, or...? “What other choice do I have?” you asked; partly out of curiosity, partly for the appearance that this marriage was not your last resort at all.

Bucky immediately brought his eyes back to you, his face taking on the harsh expression with which he usually handled business. “If you don't agree to do this, I will personally find you a suitable partner. I won't be more picky than necessary. And then I will disappear from your life for good,” he said bluntly.

You nodded slowly, absorbing that side of the story. You gave yourself some time to imagine it somehow – you with someone else; someone who wasn't Bucky. Then you remembered the weeks of longing when you were dating John Walker, and already knew that you didn't stand much chance of surviving without Bucky beside you.

Still, you decided to approach it with calm. “Okay.”

To your surprise, Bucky's face lit up with a slightly excited, satisfied smile. “Yeah?”

You nodded again, also unable to stop a grin creeping onto your lips.

“Whose house is this?” you asked as the headlights fell on the stately building.

“My godmother’s,” Bucky answered, turning off the engine. “I know there is no lack of hotels in Vegas,” he added straight away. “But I need a good night's sleep, and I trust my aunt enough to get some shut-eye.”

You shrugged. “I don't mind. After all, we'll all become one big, loving family, right?”

Apart from the clear, audible irony in your voice, Bucky smirked with delight. You wondered when the thought of marriage – of you being together – had stopped burning him. You supposed he was just exhausted; you both were. After a total of forty hours of car trip, interrupted only by bathroom stops. You took turns at the wheel so that the other could rest, but Bucky's stubbornness resulted in him driving most of the time.

You got out of the car. Bucky opened the trunk so you could get your bags out, then you headed to the front door. Despite the evening, it was hot outside; not as torturous as during the day, but it was doing its job.

The aunt that Bucky mentioned greeted you right at the door. She put her arm around Bucky's shoulders, their cheeks brushed together. In your case, she respected your possible need for personal space; she looked at you carefully but not suspiciously. “Is this the girl?”

Bucky also glanced at you, as if he had to make sure his aunt was talking about you; as if he had to make sure you were still there. “Yeah. Y/N,” he confirmed.

“Marion.” She held out her hand to you, which you shook. “Jamie told me a little about the situation you kids are in,” she began, and you were prepared to hear some scolding words, disapproval. “That prick, my brother, didn't inform me – not to mention the invitation – about my godson's wedding?” She snorted with annoyance and almost contempt. “You’re doing the right thing, and have my full support, and the place to stay, for as long as you want.”

Although you and Bucky preferred to freshen up and rest after your trip, Marion persuaded you to have dinner with her. Her justifications for why you should do so were really reasonable – firstly, her chef had served the meal minutes before you arrived; secondly, Marion was going to leave the house right after dinner, and as befits an exemplary hostess, she wanted to spend some time with her guests. And with that, you had the opportunity to get to know Bucky's aunt a little better.

She ran a casino and owned an elegant nightclub, she was independent not only financially – she had no husband and no children; she lived as she wished and with whom she wished, and she must have been really organized, since the businesses she operated did not fail, on the contrary, they were doing very well, as you could tell from the luxurious furnishings of her house, expensive designer clothes and sophisticated dishes, prepared by her costly chef.

You were jealous of this life; maybe not its pace, but this independence – Marion Barnes didn't have to marry anyone to stay alive. You learned that the Barnes simply didn't do that – they didn't give away their children; they didn't arrange marriages; they didn't take part in weddings for the sake of business. Considering Timothy, this wasn't a very strong rule.

Pulled abruptly out of your sleep by something that seemed so terrifyingly real, your gaze wandered unconsciously over your surroundings; a new room, a strange room. Only after a while did you remember where you were and why. You were given two separate bedrooms; Bucky didn't care where he was going to sleep, and you felt a little more comfortable alone. But at that moment you didn’t feel comfortable at all.

Memories of what you had just experienced swirled vividly in your mind – you were standing in Timothy's cave, wearing a white dress and veil, and you were about to be married by Elvis himself. The thing was, Bucky, your groom, was sitting in the front row right next to his uncle; they looked at you with amusement, whispered something to each other and burst out laughing. Bucky never stood at the altar; he whispered back and forth to Timothy and they both laughed. They laughed at you – at how stupid and naive you were.

You got out of bed and walked noiselessly to the bathroom. Having turned on the cold water, you washed your face. It helped; you felt less panicked. But were you still so sure of your decision?

Because of the dry air, your throat was craving water; anything to drink, so instead of returning to your bedroom, you went to the kitchen. Despite the fact that the whole house was air-conditioned, the downstairs was much more pleasantly cool than the floor above. Maybe you felt this way because of the cooled tiles your bare feet touched.

Having found a glass in one of the cabinets, you filled it with tap water; it had a slightly strange aftertaste, but you wouldn't call it bad. Besides, your dry throat would settle for anything.

“Can’t sleep?”

You almost dropped the glass. Though you knew his voice, you were still startled to see Bucky when you turned around. He was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen entrance, and you – regardless of the temperature around – felt hot again. The muscles of his crossed arms strained and accentuated, but you had seen those before. Unlike his torso. You knew he had a broad chest, but shirtless it evoked a completely different sensation in you; you also expected a well-sculpted stomach, but expecting and seeing with your own eyes were two different things, and your own body didn't let you confuse the two experiences. And his thighs? Oh, his thighs…

Apart from his face – as beautiful when it expressed tenderness as when it expressed indifference, his spirit – so unpredictable but caring for you for no apparent reason, there was also his body – perfect, godlike, seeming to have cost a ton of work.

With restless eyes you scanned what was in front of you, your throat getting dry again. You were stunned, as if you had never seen a man in just his underwear before. You had. But you were convinced that you didn't miss any physical contact after that situation in the nightclub; after you almost let some man get into your pants. And you didn't miss it. You didn't miss just some man; you desired Bucky – you'd been drawn to him since that evening when he and Timothy turned up at your house.

You suddenly remembered that he could see you too; see the way you were looking at him. Tentatively, you lifted your gaze to his face – puffy because of the recently interrupted sleep, rested – and met his stare. For a brief moment you wondered why he let you do that; why he didn't stop you.

You brought the glass back to your lips and drank the rest of the water.

“I had a bad dream. And you..?”

“And I have my future wife in the back of my mind, and something told me to check if she was safe,” Bucky said with conviction, pulling away from the doorframe. He casually walked closer and rested his lower back against the edge of the kitchen counter. “Tell me.”

“About my dream?” you asked, to which he nodded. “There is nothing to talk about. It was... weird.” You shrugged. “I think... I think I'm subconsciously afraid of this wedding.” You nibbled your bottom lip and looked away. “You left me the first time, so who knows what will happen next time.”

Bucky gasped. “I didn't leave you. And I never was going to. I just changed the plan,” he asserted. “I know I should have told you earlier.” Seeing your lips parting, he interrupted you before you had the chance to speak. “I made a mistake, I know that now. And I will keep making them. I'm just learning, Y/N.”

“And all of this has no right to hurt me, and I can't get angry, because from the very start, you didn't want any of it. I get it,” you answered calmly.

“I didn't say that,” Bucky protested, standing right in front of you. “I said you're not in my debt, and that hasn't changed. I-” he paused for a moment, his mouth set in a hard line. “The truth is, I would not let you marry anyone else. I couldn't stand it. I would go fucking mad,” he added. Firmly, yet cautiously, he grabbed your hand and brought it to his face. Without taking his eyes away from yours, he placed a barely noticeable kiss on your palm; on the still unhealed cut. “I told you,” he whispered. “I stepped into your life, and now I can’t get out. Don’t want to. Okay?”

You replied with a delicate nod.

“No, baby,” Bucky continued in the same low tone, and a cloud of butterflies rose up in your stomach. “I need to hear it from you. To be sure you understand.”

Your bodies were only millimeters apart; you could feel the heat radiating from him, the warmth of his breath on your cheeks.

“I understand.”

“You understand what?” he asked softly, persistently searching for something in your eyes – Fear? Decisiveness? Resentment? Permission?

“That you’re jealous-”

“Very jealous.” His voice was more like a heavy breath.

“And that you would be angry if I married someone else-” you added. Bucky sucked hungrily on his bottom lip, his stare seemed half-conscious, he shook his head slowly. “You would go mad,” you corrected yourself.

“Mm-hm,” he murmured, and keeping his instincts in check, covered the rest of the distance separating you, then pressed his lips to yours. You instinctively lowered your eyelids, and as his soft mouth laid on yours, you were hit by a wave of unknown sensations.

You welcomed him without thinking, throwing your arms around his neck.

When you did; when you allowed his mouth to devour, to abuse yours, his inner leash tightened and then snapped, enabling him to let it all go. He thrust his body against yours with surprising force and need – it was so rapid that the bottom of your spine collided painfully with the edge of the countertops.

You moaned – not from the feeling of sudden discomfort in your lower back, but from the overload of impulses coming from everywhere; his lips turning the mouths of you both into a wet, sweet mess, his stubble so rough on your chin and cheeks, his massive body pushing against yours, caging it and cutting off a way out that you hadn't even considered.

Bucky's hands desperately slipped down the sides of your body, over the silky material of your nightgown, and stopped under your tights; he squeezed your ass, making you gasp. He lifted you up, and you involuntarily wrapped your legs around his hips; he sat you on the countertop and pressed himself between your thighs. His tongue slid between your lips, and again, you eagerly welcomed it. Warm, soft, wet, it explored the inside of your mouth, the texture and taste of your own tongue; and this time it was Bucky who let out a whimper – desperate, yearning for a feeling he'd never experienced before; this horrible hunger you were driving him into. There was no doubt that Bucky wanted you as much as you wanted him.

You felt something hard on the inside of your thigh. You barely pulled away from his mouth to see it – the material of his briefs stretching over his stiff cock, stopping it from jumping out. You felt lightheaded when staring at it, but also somewhat delighted – it was all for you, because of you.

You dared to reach out your hand for what was soon to be yours; your fingertips touched - still through the material of his underwear – his bulging length, and Bucky let out a rasping sound. He immediately grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going any further.

With lips parted and swollen from kisses, eyes full of desire yet innocence, you looked at his face. He wasn't angry or displeased; he was burning with an aching need, and you both knew that sinking his cock inside you would put out that fire, ease that pain – for you both.

“I can’t,” Bucky said, panting. “I want to do it right, the way you deserve. And now I don't trust myself.”

You didn't share his opinion – you were ready to take him now, anytime. But you respected his boundaries. “Okay,” you whispered; your voice weaker than you expected. Bucky smiled, then placed a tender kiss on your forehead. Not being able to resist, you glanced restlessly at his crotch again.

“Don't worry, baby, I won't touch myself. I'll wait for you, promise,” he said with slight amusement somewhere into your hair, leaving another kiss there. He moved away a little. “Come on. I'll walk you to your room,” he instructed and put his hands on your hips so that you could safely slide off the countertop.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine,” you claimed, but in reality, you were glad to have him right next to you – your legs were like jelly.

“Yeah, I know, but-” He exhaled heavily, glancing down. “I need to, uh- walk it off.”

Drunk with all the touch, the heat, the wetness and the rest of the experiences of a moment ago, you let out a soft giggle.

True to his word, Bucky escorted you to your bedroom. Seeing his exposed body, remembering how much strength he possessed, you were amazed at how someone so big, so strong moved so silently. With that, you realized how little you knew about him; how little you had managed to observe so far in a man who was to play such an important role in your life.

Feeling his hand on your hip, you looked at him immediately. “You okay?” he asked.

You were tired, distracted, still insatiable. Nevertheless, you nodded in response, and after a brief consideration – which was more like staring into a black hole – you climbed on your toes, and, resting your hands on his shoulders, crashed your lips into his. Bucky instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you against his body as tightly as possible. He grunted into your mouth.

Although there was still that devouring fire smoldering between you, that kiss was different from the previous one – slow, lazy, as if you were giving each other time to get to know your lips, even though they were still pulsating from the last caresses.

Bucky's mouth parted; he let out a loud, heavy breath. You sucked on his lower lip, then bit it - a little harder than you both expected; Bucky hissed, and you tasted blood. You pulled away, but he didn't look angry or even shocked. He touched his lips with his thumb, and when he saw the blood, he smirked. “Don’t make me break my promise, baby.”

“Sorry-” you said quietly, but he shook his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky answered, leaned towards you again and pecked on your lips gently. “If you have a bad dream again, you come to me, alright?”

“Alright.”

He opened the door for you and waited until you got inside and made your way back to the bed. He gave you another smile before disappearing from your sight.

You let out a heavy breath, closed your eyes and flopped back on the mattress. You were aware that you wouldn't fall asleep, but it wasn't the nightmares that were to blame.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz

#mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x y/n #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x y/n #mafia!bucky x reader #mob bucky #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfic #mob bucky x y/n #mob bucky x reader

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kissitbttr · 9 days

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i just had this shower thought but i just know that muñeca will be everyone’s fav wag when frat!mig makes it into the nfl😩 like i imagine her being an ABSOLUTE icon (it girl energyyy) having edits of her LIKE UGHHH ! what would be migs thoughts about this??

miguel bagged the baddest bitch of all time, everyone knows this!!!

she’s definitely the it girl without even trying!! if anything, she tries to step away from the spotlight as much as possible! one of the things that made her famous aside being nfl!miguel’s girl is that her fits goes HAAARDDD. she could dress up or dress down. classy or casual. glamorous or laid back. anything!

i would like to think that one of her moments that went viral was when she attended his first game. when the other WAGs were dressing up for the occasion, she was there in his old college jersey and her jeans. hoops dangling in her ears with one leg up in the chair, just sipping on her cocktail in a plastic cup. she didn’t realize the camera was on her because she was far too fixated on the game.

it was a simple moment but that didn’t stop the whole world to be in love with miguel o’hara’s girlfriend! not only is she drop dead gorgeous but funny too!

“your boyfriend, miguel o’hara did amazing out there! he scored a touchdown! how do you feel about that?”

“man tbh, I didn’t really see it. just came here for the food and drinks. but good for him though”

the whole interview was funny af. some audience loves her sense of humor while others don’t. but she doesn’t gives a shit. she knows its all jokesy jokes. she’s proud of miguel’s achievements. she knew all of the hard work he’s put in to be here. and she did cheer really loud when he TDed,

her popularity only seem to be increasing when another baddest bitch in the game, Rihanna reached out to her personally and they become friends! muñeca was fangirling obviously, but she’s not going to let badgalriri knows otherwise she’d be embarrassed. especially not the really hot dream she had with Riri back in college,

miguel notices the amount of attention his girl is getting and he feels this sort of pride in him knowing that she really stole everyone’s hearts by absolutely doing nothing major. just like she did to his back in junior year. he knows his girlfriend is a heartstopper. everyone’s crush. obviously. he doesn’t forget the time where he had to compete with other guys lining up to be her man on campus.

muñeca is not just a pretty face but her heart is pure. I think that’s one of the reasons why people are loving her. you’ll hear from other people talking from miguel’s team, the fans, reporters, close friends, employees etc that she’s nothing but a sweetheart. not one bad thing to say about her🥺🥺

and the tiktok edits?? MAAANN, her edits are beating his by mileeesss!! he gets jealous here and there though. not because his edits are decreasing but mainly because everyone is falling for his girl and giving her so much attention that he just wants her all to himself,

he’s proud of her. not because of the trophy wife thing people are making it out to be but she’s just as successful as him! she has her own ballet studio, have her own classes to teach, friends with rihanna, bella hadid, getting offers from vogue, calvin klein, and shared partnerships with a few of famous designers. the late karl lagerfeld, alexander mcqueen, swarovski, donatella versace to name a few,

to everyone, she is indeed an icon. timeless being. but miguel had already seen that one coming before all of this happened🤍

#frat!miguel

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yanderedbdimagines · 1 year

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Oh I saw the ask about the lock locker with the reader inside can you do it with the other killers The Doctor The Legion The Ghostface The Trickster of your choice ^^ like they got a chance to kidnap there darling but the entity lock the locker the darling is in to spite/punish them

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I like writing about this request a bit too much to only chose one of them, so I chose them all. >:D For the Legion I chose Julie Kostenko.

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WARNING: Mentions of torture! Blood, gore, cussing, etc. Very descriptive.

The Doctor

‘Damn it,’ is all you could think in complete and utter frustration as you found yourself locked within the locker on the main floor of the Huntress’s cabin. Just as you swore that the Doctor’s ran past you, you tried to get out and sneak out the way he just came through from, but the doors just wouldn’t give in.

What makes the matter worse is that you’re the only one left. Your heart pounds in your chest as you fully realize that you are completely at the mercy of one of the most sadistic killers in the realm.

As if sensing your fear, the Doctor's fluorescent eyes peer down through the slats in the locker's door. You can feel his gaze burning into you, and a shiver runs down your spine. You try to stay quiet, but the static in the air only grows stronger, indicating that he knows that you’re in there. As result, your skin’s being prickled by the crackling air that found its way inside of your little space. It’s highly uncomfortable as a continuous tingling sensation, which borderlines to a humming pain, is affecting nearly every patch of your skin.

Suddenly, the Doctor's twisted laughter fills the air, and you realize that he has been toying with you all along. Your stomach churns with fear and anger at the realization that you have played right into his hands.

You fall back against the wall with a defeated sob before sliding downward, your heart haven jumped up into a frenzy and with your lungs already gasping aloud since of a sudden shortage of air due to an ever larger amount of fear jolting through your veins- aware that he could open the doors at any second.

You’re getting sick and you feel like you’re about to puke all over yourself. You can already imagine various scenarios in which he’s already torturing you to death. Very slowly flaying off your skin and precisely trimming through the flesh underneath in order to pick apart your nerves, nails pulled off before traded in by electrodes, skin around your head skinned wide open for better access to your skull before that’s broken wide open… You’ve involuntarily seen short snippets of the videos in the Lery’s memorial institute during few of the trials you’ve ran so far, haven showed you what he’s capable of.

One other method springs out to you the most; how he’s about to fry your brains out in the most painful way possible. His way of how he prefers to kill nearly each and every survivor. Quick, but very, very painful. The survivors who died this way can only remember that it hurt like hell, but they can’t fully remember how hellish it was after they were resurrected by the Entity shortly after. Obviously, you don’t want to find this out yourself, but it seems like this is about to be your first time.

You proceed to close your eyes and cradle your own body as pure panic consumes you from the inside out… But…

“Oh?~” The killer hums.

You dare to open your eyes again, only to see him turn away from you.

You listen closely to the fading footsteps before slowly standing up as the prickle of the skin disappears along with it. Peering out through the roster, the Doctor is nowhere in sight.

You swallow. He must be trying to give you this false sense of security. For all you know, he may be staring at the locker right now and waiting for the moment where you may end up succeeding to leave the locker.

Decided, you stay put. And just as you started to question if you should make a mad dash for it after all after a few minutes has passed by, something dark twisted and swerved around your body.

From just outside of the room, the Doctor witnessed how the Entity took you, and he could already imagine where to.

He sighs deeply before chuckling to himself.

Herman had hoped for this to be the moment to bring you back to his territory and have you all to himself, but the moment he pulled at the handle of the locker, he already knew that he wasn’t even allowed to. This was confirmed just a few minutes after as he closely watched and waited of what would happen; also yearning for the moment if you did get out just so that he could catch you off guard and kidnap you by force.

Still…

Maybe he’s not allowed to have you right now, but the Doctor will do everything in his power to be allowed to have you in the near future.

The Ghostface

You find yourself huddled in the cramped confines of the red locker, your heart pounding in your chest as you hear Ghostface’s raspy breathing just inches away. You had been separated from one of your teammates during the chase, and had to duck into the nearest hiding spot which you could find after you swore you’d lost him. But now, you’re trapped, with no way out and no one to help you- made evident by an intrusive thought that barged through your mind of how you somehow know that they've left through the gates.

The other survivor just went up and abandoned you.

Ghostface's voice suddenly crackles through the locker's vents, startling you out of your thoughts. "Hey there, little bird," he says in his signature distorted voice. "What are you doing hiding in there? Come out and talk to me."

You stay silent, hoping he'll give up and fuck off. “Shit. Now that’s just rude. Staying quiet like that.” But Ghostface is persistent, and he keeps talking; "You know you can't stay in there forever," he says. "Why not come out? I promise I won't ruffle your feathers too badly."

You can feel the panic rising in your chest as his words sink in. You know that if you stay in the locker too long, the Entity might jump in. But the thought of facing Ghostface, with his razor-sharp knife and twisted mind, is almost too much to bear as well.

As the minutes tick by, Ghostface grows increasingly agitated, his breathing becoming more erratic and his words more desperate. "Fuck! Come on, come on, come on," he mutters under his breath. "Why won't you come out? The clock's ticking, sweetheart."

You grip your head. And for a fleeting second, you start to think it actually may be better to face his blade than to feel a spider's leg puncture through your stomach. The killer senses this, and he tries to speak again- perhaps one last attempt to get you to come out.

A low groan suddenly rattles through the air and interrupts him, a sound similar to that of a sinking ship. Only one source is capable of making such a noise.

A thick black mist begins to seep into the locker, swirling around you in thick tendrils. He suddenly screams in anger, haven seen the occurrence the second he looked down. “NO! Don’t you fucking do this to me!” A loud bang follows- indicating that the killer’s rammed his body against the doors as a desperate attempt to get inside.

You suddenly find yourself back at the campfire not long after, surrounded by the other survivors. Jake is there, looking concerned, as he asks you what happened.

You try to explain what happened in the locker, but your words come out jumbled and incoherent. All you can remember is the feeling of being trapped, the sound of Ghostface's voice, and the overwhelming sense of relief when the mist swept you away.

As the other survivors comfort you, you can't help but wonder what would have happened if you had stayed in the locker a moment longer. Would Ghostface have managed to coax you out, or would the Entity have intervened regardless?

One thing is for certain: the horrors of the Fog are not to be underestimated. Including the unpredictable kind as the Ghostface’s just showed to you.

The Legion(Julie Kostenko)

“I’m not here to kill you.” You hear from the other side of the wooden surface.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself, trying to push away the fear that threatens to consume you. You glance at Julie through the narrow slits in the locker door, trying to read her body language. She seems sincere, but you can't be sure for as long as she’s donning that signature mask of hers. “Listen; I know you’re very scared right now, but I mean it when I say that I don’t want to hurt you.”

She's saying that now because she can't get inside. Still...

You considering Julie's words carefully. It's true that she hasn't harmed you, but that doesn't necessarily mean you can trust her. The Legion is known for their cruelty and unpredictable behavior, after all.

“Please, know that I'm not like the others. I don't enjoy hurting people anymore. I just...I just want to be understood, you know? I mean, have I ever hurt you as of late?"

She’s right. To date, she’s basically the only killer who hasn’t, and there has to be a good reason why the Entity has locked you in here because of that.

But at the same time, this could also be a ruse. After all, it’s a stone-cold fact that she’s a killer, and you simply do not know what it is that she’s trying to pull here. For all you know, she’s been playing around with you all along and simply wants to kill you once you’d set a foot outside- mocking you in one of the most twisted of ways just so that she could tell it in full detail to the other Legion members later on.

"Why should I believe you?" you ask, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

Julie sighs, leaning against the locker from the other side. "I get it. You don't trust me. And I don't blame you. But you have to understand, we're not like the others. We're not just mindless killers. We have a code."

"A code?" you repeat, incredulous.

Julie nods. "Yeah. A code. We stick together. We don't hurt each other. And we don't kill for fun. Only when we have to. Only when the Entity forces us to."

You consider her words, weighing them against everything you've seen in the Fog. The Legion has always seemed different from the other killers. More... human, in a way. But that doesn't mean you're ready to let your guard down just yet. Not for as long as you remember how they killed any other survivor during a trial, especially the way Julie did.

"I appreciate that you're trying to reassure me," you say finally, your voice shaky, but obviously tainted by semi-sarcasm. "But I don't trust you. And I don’t think I’ll ever will."

There's a long moment of silence, and you can hear Julie pacing outside the locker as if she’s morphed into a starving animal. You hold your breath, waiting for what's next.

But suddenly, something cold swiftly crept up your legs, and you hear a surprised gasp, the sound of a knife falling to the ground before distinct clattering of someone repeatedly pulling against the doors infiltrates your sense of sound.

You feel the familiar sensation of being transported away by the Entity's power as everything shortly goes black.

You blink, disoriented, as you find yourself standing at the campfire.

Julie is obviously nowhere in sight, and you can't help but wonder what might have happened if you had trusted her and stepped out of the locker. But for now, all you can do is try to stay alive and hope that you'll eventually make it out of this seemingly never-ending nightmare.

The Trickster

Yun-Jin Lee had told you and the other survivors everything she knew about the Trickster when she was the newest one to arrive in the Fog. A tradition held so that each and every survivor could make plans and mental preparations in case they’d face him for the very first time- making sure the chance would be as low as possible that they’d ever get caught off guard by one of the newest killers.

Yun-Jin had described each of the Trickster's inhumane killings, displaying his unique style of general torture method.

You had listened intently, taking in every word and committing each detail to memory. You didn't want to be caught off guard by the Trickster, not like the way some of the other survivors already had been.

In exchange, all of you filled her in about the other killers roaming the Fog.

Her words replay over and over again as you found yourself shivering underneath the yellow gaze of the killer in question, separated only by the locked doors of the infamous red locker, and all that preparation seemed to be for nothing.

Your breath catches in your throat as he starts to talk to you with a very thick Korean accent coating each and every word; “The things I’d do to have your undivided attention on me like this more often. The things I’d do now to have this moment last forever. The things I’d do for you. The things I’d do to you.” He chuckles dryly. “Sadly, the Entity has already decided that I’m only allowed to have so very little of you.”

He presses his forehead against the roster, his eyes never wavering from yours. It almost reminds you of a kid trying to be as close to their favorite zoo animal for as far as the fence would allow them. A creepy and downright murderous kid…

"Say my name," he demands suddenly, his tone firm and unwavering. “Say it. I know you’re aware of what my name is.”

You freeze, unsure of how to respond. A braggart laugh flees him- clearly crazy and psychotic in content. "Silence? Shame, but I'll find a way to get you to say my name once I've dragged you back to my place. Now that I think of it, when do you plan to get out of there?” He tilts his head as his almond-shaped eyes narrow in feigned amusement. “Soon, I hope?"

You try to push the fear down, but it's overwhelming. You are trapped, with no way out. You pray that the other survivors will come to your rescue, but deep down you know that it is unlikely. The Entity apparently has its own rules, and it wasn't always on your side.

You are quickly proven wrong as a sudden cold encircled your body, shadows soon overtaking most of your vision.

You feel something flutter on top of you the moment the darkness enveloped you in its cold embrace completely. At the campfire, you realized that it was a signed photograph of him that he has slid inside at the last possible second.

You couldn't help but shiver at the memory of the Trickster's twisted charm as you instantly chuck it into the fire. Yun-Jin Lee had warned you about him, but nothing could have prepared you for the sickening thrill that he brought to the Fog.

#dbd x reader #dbd #the trickster #the doctor #dead by daylight #reader #yandere #insert #the legion #the ghostface #scream #julie kostenko #ji woon hak #herman carter #danny johnson #jed olsen

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