#And yet………it beckons me once more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovedaruma · 4 months

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their spot ♥︎

sukuna x princess! reader

ー in which you and sukuna meet when he unintentionally saves you and you continue to meet him everyday in the same spot.

fem! reader, heian era, grumpy x sunshine, reader is innocent and playful, fluff + short smut

"Your Highness! Please don't go too far!" you hear your personal maid shout from the distance as you continue to run, laughing and waving her goodbye.

Any other princess wouldn't be allowed to go into the wilderness on her own, but as for Y/N, her family could not care less if she went missing the next morning.

You have already wandered through so many paths, yet there was still more to explore. You take a new route and stumble on an open area, seeing a hill in the distance and couldn't help but gawk at the beautiful area.

You cheerfully run towards the hill, taking a few breaths once you reached the top. From this height, you could see the beautiful view of the ocean, together with the breathtaking sunset. "Oh my..."

The sun continued to set as you watched from underneath the tree, sitting in a comfortable position. The comforting sounds of nature soon make you drift of to sleep.

A growl from the distance awakes you from your slumber. You jolt awake to see that the moon was already up in the sky. "Gosh, how many hours have passed?"

The sound of your voice summons another growl and you start to get nervous. You turn around and look down at the hill and see a big wolf that was twice your size, bright red eyes trying to scare you. However, you were too distracted at the sight of the furry animal.

"Oh my, It's a wolfy! Come boy, come!" you wave your hand, beckoning the wolf to come closer. It hesitates but slowly starts to approach you. "Here boy... I'm nice, I swear!"

The wolf is now in front of you sniffing your leg, you bring your hand to his neck and started scratching. "Aren't you a cutie~ I'm gonna name you-"

Your words were cut off as you watch the wolf get sliced in half, the blood splattering on your kimono.

"Tch."

A voice was heard from behind the wolf, you see a handsome man with four arms and eyes, marks which seemed like tattoos all over his body.

"Hey~ Why did you kill the wolfy?" you whined.

"Shut up, Human. What are you doing here?"

". . ."

He furrows his brows and growls, "Answer."

"But you said shut up." you smile playfully, clearly teasing him.

"You... Do you know who you're talking to?" He slowly approaches you.

He was trying to intimidate you with this slow steps but was shocked to see you stand up and walk over to him instead.

"Well, No! You haven't introduced yourself yet. I'm Y/N. What's your name?" you reach out your hand as you introduce yourself.

". . ."

You watch as his four eyes stare at you, trying to figure you out. You smile up at him and put your hand down.

"Well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I still would like to know why you killed the cute wolf though..." you pout as you look over at the furry body in pieces.

"You foolish woman. That wolf was going to make you its dinner." he glares at you, "And this area here is mine. I slaughter everything and everyone that trespasses."

He raises one of his hands to kill you in one swoop, but stops as you perk up and grab one of his hands in joy.

"Oh, so you saved me?! Thank you, kind stranger." you give his hand a small squeeze to show your appreciation.

He stares at both of your hands together for a few seconds before he smacks your hand away, "Tch, How dare you touch me."

You pout as you rub your wrist, "Oh, my apologies . It was bad manners of me to grab you without asking. I'll do that next time!"

"Hah, next time?" He chuckled pure evil, "There will be no next time. Don't think you're coming out of here alive, human."

"That can't be, I have to repay you! You saved me, after all... Even though I don't have much influence, I'm still a princess!"

"Princess? Stop lying woman. The only child I know of royalty here is a prince."

"Yeah~ That's my brother!" you smile, unbothered that people weren't aware that there was a princess in the first place. "And I have a name, you know."

A few seconds of silence pass, him just staring at you. He scoffs and turns to walk away. "Leave."

You were about to retort back but realized how far in the night it is so you stand up and call out to him, "Hey~ I'll be back here tomorrow okay?"

You laugh as you see him turn his head to scowl at you.

The next day soon arrives and you're back at the same spot on the beautiful hill. You sit down under a tree and bask in the view.

The silence was interrupted by a familiar voice. "You have a death wish, huh?"

"Hey there! Come, sit!" you giggle and pat the spot next to him.

"Tch, this is where I usually sit, woman." He scoffs as he sits down, not showing he was curious at the human interacting with him.

"So... I heard a few guards talking about a certain king of the curses...." you side-eye him, smiling playfully. "Hehe, what even is your name?"

"Ryomen Sukuna. Remember the name of the one who's gonna kill you." He smirks.

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" you tilt your head.

"I'll have my fun with you for now. You're quite the peculiar human."

"Oh, tell me in advance when you're gonna kill me then, Sukuna!"

"You..." he glares, "Do you not value your life?"

"Meh, not really... No one would miss me anyway." I frown, but a smile quickly replaces it, "So I've decided to just live to the fullest. If I die today, at least I had fun yesterday~"

Sukuna stays silent as he watches you cheerfully talk about death with his brows furrowed. You hum a tune while enjoying the comfortable silence for a few minutes and then turn to look at him.

Your lips part when you continue to stare at him, his features complimenting his handsome face. Sukuna, for some reason, found it hard not to look back at your stare. After a while, he turned his head to look back into your eyes.

You flinch as his eyes look into yours. Your cheeks tint at his intimidating state and you give him a shy smile.

"So... um... what's... your favorite color...?"

Silence fills the air at the random question, and your cheeks tint even more. You let out a small laugh at your own embarrassment.

Sukuna takes a peek at the warm flush of your cheeks and lets out a huff, "Red."

You whip your head to him and flash a bright smile, "That really suits you! Mine is white hehe~"

". . ."

"So... what do you like to ea-"

"Shut up."

You zip your lips shut and sit more comfortably next to him. The silence was so oddly comforting that you drifted off to sleep. Your head slowly leaning to to direction Sukuna was sitting.

His shoulder was too high for your small figure, so your head rested on the side of his arm. Sukuna looked down, careful not to move his arm. "Tch, unbelievable."

Although he looked annoyed, he didn't move his arm for the rest of his time there.

You wake up and your eyes slowly open. The sun in the horizon has just set and the moon is starting to peak into the sky. Your head lifts up from an... arm?

"Wha..." you let out a yawn.

You hear a scoff, "Why did you sleep for so long?"

"S-Sukuna?!"

You put the pieces together and realize that Sukuna let you sleep on his arm until you woke up. The thought of that making your cheeks warm.

"Sukuna... that's so sweet of you!" you show a downturned smile to express how grateful you were.

He scowls at you and in a blink, he disappears.

"He didn't even let me say bye..."

You arrive at the same spot under the tree on the hill. Surprisingly, you see Sukuna already there.

"You're here!~"

He opens two eyes to see your figure running towards him. He sighs and shuts his eyes again, slowly getting used to his human's presence.

You stop right in front of him, admiring his face once more, being less embarrassed now that his eyes were shut. Soon, you give into your temptation.

"Sukuna..."

He opens an eye.

"Can I touch you now? I asked first this time!" you clasp your hands and interwine your fingers to say please.

He scoffs and shuts the eye. You frown letting out a small 'Hmp' of sulk.

"I didn't say no."

You gasp in excitement and reach out your hands to his face. Your fingertips gently touch his face. You didn't notice the subtle flinch Sukuna did.

Your fingers trace the marks on his face. He exhales from his nose, the air hitting your skin making you feel warm inside. You slowly lift your thumbs to caress the area next to his bottom eyes, the rest of your fingers at the back of his ear. You couldn't help but hum a small 'woah~' in admiration.

"Your eyes are beautiful." Flustered at your own words, your cheeks tint in embarrassment.

His eyes open, both of you staring into each other. He glares at you and whips his head to the side, your hands still on his face. "How absurd."

"It's true..." You let out a chuckle and kneel down next to him. This time, you trace the marks on his arms.

What you didn't notice earlier was how Sukuna's cheeks warmed up at your compliment, with the same grumpy face. He shook his head and sighed, focusing on the feeling of your skin on his.

The rest of the day you just held onto his hand tracing lines and giving light massages while bringing up small conversation topics. He gave small answers, but you were overjoyed at your interactions.

Two weeks have gone by since then. As the days continued, Sukuna began to warm up more to you, talking to you in longer sentences and not telling you to shut up anymore. You were currently on your way to meet him again. Meanwhile, Sukuna was starting to realize his feelings for you.

"Princess Y/N, Please! Finish your food before you go!" The maid sighs as she watches you run away. She looks over at the unfinished plate, wondering what in the wilderness is so interesting to her highness.

As she takes a closer look in the plate, she gasps. "Oh my heavens! T-This is... The Princess is allergic to this!"

Without a care in the world, you skip towards Sukuna's spot, excited to meet your king of the curses.

"I'm here!"

Insted of sitting in his usual spot, he was standing near the cliff, looking at the horizon.

"Sukuna! you admiring the view?"

He doesn't reply and you look at his back, confused. The dark clouds in the sky let out a thunder.

"How dare you."

"W-What?"

He turns around and scowls, "How dare you make me feel- Ugh."

"Huh?" you say confused, raindrops start dropping on both of you.

In a flash, he disappears from where he was standing and was now in front of you. His hand swiftly attacks for your neck but he quickly stops and is an inch away from your skin.

You flinch, but don't move. you give him a chuckle.

"Sukuna... I told you in advance to tell me first before you kill me." you laugh.

He growls in frustration and puts his hands down. "Ugh..."

"But... As strange as it may seem, the time I spent with you was the happiest I've ever been. Thank you for showing me kindness, even in your own way. Farewell, Sukuna. I will never forget you!"

You stand on your tip toes and met your lips with his. It was just a gentle peck, but it sent shivers down her spine.

"Idiot."

As you pull away, content, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes. 'I wonder what face he's making right now', the thought making you smile. You grab the same hands that tried to attack you earlier and wrapped them around your neck.

"Huh?" you look up at him confused, only to be more confused as you analyzed his face.

'He looks... troubled? I'm not so sure'

He pulls his hands away from your neck and sighs. He grabs you arms and rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "What kind of sick curse is this..."

". . . Sukuna?"

Although he wasn't exactly hugging you, you wrap your arms around him and hug back. The rain hitting the both of you as you warm up in each other's arms.

". . . I'm confused, are you still killing me or not?"

". . . Pft."

You gawk as you hear Sukuna let out a chuckle. Seeing his lips turn up was a better view than the horizon behind them.

You look up at him and smile, "Hehe, you still haven't answered m-"

The moment was interrupted when you cough out blood. A sudden burning sensation you feel in your chest. You let go of him to hold your chest in pain, your body slouching as you groan.

"D-Damn...I-I shouldn't have-ugh... ate those."

"Y/N?!"

The sound of his name flow out of his voice made your heart flutter but the pain overpowers that.

"Agh-" You drop to the floor, "Don't w-worry, these are just allergies."

He gets on his knees and uses his reverse cursed technique to heal you from your suffering. The pain was too much for you to handle though, and you pass out in his arms.

You jolt awake in your room, looking around confused.

"Sukuna?"

You call out for him but nothing happens. His scent still lingering in the room so you're sure he tucked you back into bed.

You smile as your heart flutters, going back to sleep.

"Y-Your Highness! Are you sure you're okay?" your maid stutters as she hands you your breakfast the next morning.

"Yes yes~ Don't worry about lil' old me!"

You quickly finish your breakfast, wanting to see him as soon as possible. You quickly run and you arrive at the spot in no time and you see him there.

You don't even call out to him, you just run towards his sitting figure, bend over, and wrap your arms around his neck.

He jolts in surprise but immediately calms down as he takes a whiff of your hair.

"Sukuna, you saved me twice already. Thank you for yesterday." you smile, embarrassed to make eye contact with him.

He places a hand on your back to push your body into his. Now, you're straddling his lap and you stay in position.

You fidget your hands, "Ugh~ It's kinda awkward now after I did a whole farewell speech yesterday..." you whine as you recall the events yesterday.

"Yeah, you're farewell kiss too."

You blush and groan into his shoulder, clenching your fists in his robe in embarrassment.

"Hah, is the princess embarrassed? Look at me."

As if it was a spell, you comply immediately and shyly pull away to look at him.

He grabs your chin and pulls your face closer.

"You have to take responsibility for what you did yesterday." He smirks.

"R-Responsibility?!" you squeak.

"Don't think I'll be satisfied with a mere kiss, Princess."

He smashes his lips onto yours. Unlike the sweet and short peck, this was hot and passionate. His upper arms land on your waist and slides the up and down the side of your body.

You feel his tongue enter your mouth and you shift your hips to adjust your position, making you grind on his crotch. The friction making you both groan in pleasure, all of his blood rushing to the length under his robe.

"S-Sukuna." you couldn't help but whine his name in the middle of your tongues dancing. Hearing his name turns him on even more, and his hands go from your hips to sliding inside your kimono to grab hold of your breasts.

You let out a moan at his touch on your bare chest. His bottom arms sliding up your kimono underneath you, his hands traveling up to grope both cheeks of your ass. Wanting to touch him, your hands go down to his chest, sliding inside his robe to touch explore your hands around his bare chest and abs. Your touch making Sukuna groan and start grinding his hips underneath yours, you moan in his lips and grind on him as well.

His hands slide off your kimono, leaving you in your undergarments. The cool air hitting your skin, but you couldn't feel it from the heat of the intimate moment. His bottom hands start to tug on your panties and he whispers into your lips.

"You think you can handle me, Princess?"

You moan in confirmation, sliding off the top part of his robe and continuing to grind on him. He hisses in pleasure and rips off your panties and throw them to the side.

"Ah!" you squeak in embarrassment, pulling away and looking down at yourself, but what caught your eye is the visible bulge twitching underneath the fabric of his robe. You curiously grope it, causing a moan to slip off his mouth, and snatches your hand away.

"Later."

He grabs both of your wrists and pushes you to the clean grass. He looks up and down your naked body and smirks, feeling another twitch from his cock. His eyes landed on your pussy, already soaking wet.

His eyes darkens and he grins, ready to devour you. He brings a hand to your folds and run his fingers along the wetness dripping down your thighs. "How can you be this wet already?" he chuckles and inserts a finger inside, his other hands playing with your breasts.

The sensation making you moan in pleasure, the back of your hand covering your mouth in embarrassment. The moans continue when he starts thrusting the finger in a moderate motion. After a few seconds of adjusting, he shoves another finger in.

The sounds of his fingers fucking your wet pussy fill the air. He feels your walls clench and sees your body start to arch. He sees the way you were making a mess already just with his fingers. Your moans get whinier and he loses it.

He grunts and shoves the robe of his body and your eyes widen. You stare at his two cocks twitching in the air, gulping at its huge size. "S-Sukuna..."

"You want to stop?" you whine and shook your head immediately, "That's what I thought. Now come here, princess."

Not giving you enough time to process, he picks you up and puts him in the stradling position you were earlier in, the tip of his cock goes in and he thrusts inside.

"Ngh- Ah~ S-Sukuna." He grunts in reply, feeling your pussy clench in his hard cock.

"Fuck, princess."

The pleasure was nothing you ever felt before. You look down and see his other cock twitching against your stomach. You reach your hand to grab his length which causes his head to roll back in pleasure and let out a deep moan.

You pump his cock, while adjusting to the other cock that was already inside you. "Prince- Agh, Shit." Your hand going faster and faster, the sounds of his groans making your walls clench, making him groan even louder.

He grabs your hand to stop you. "I can't hold it anymore. I'm gonna destroy this tight little pussy, yeah?"

He grabs your hips and starts bouncing you up and down, his cock thrusting inside of you without mercy.

"Ah... Suku- Agh~" You were drowning in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you listen to the sounds of your wetness and both of your skins slapping against each other.

He was thrusting into you mercilessly, your mewls just making his climax come closer. He feels your walls clench uncontrollably and he moans your name.

"Y/N. Fuck- I'm going crazy" he huffs, acting like an animal in heat.

He pushes you back into the soft grass into a new position, bringing your knees to your chest, his cock thrusting into you sloppily. A visible bump in your belly when he thrusts inside. Two hands behind your knees. One hand rubbing your clit. One hand pumping his other cock.

"Agh~ T-There... Sukuna-"

He hits a certain spot causing your body to twitch and making your eyes water up from the pleasure.

Sukuna pounds faster into your pussy, his precum smeared along your soaked walls. You were letting him use your body and it felt so good.

You feel something building up inside of you, and you whine. "Ah- wait! Sukuna~ I- I-" you whine in pleasure as your body arches, your juices spilling into his cock.

"That's right, princess. Let it out." he coos into your ear. "My turn."

You gasp for air as he thrusts again into your sensitive pussy, making your mewl echo into the air. Your juices increase the sound of the wetness as he slaps his skin into yours, the mix of your arousals filling the air.

"Fuck- I should fill you up, huh? Breed my precious princess?"

"Agh- P-Please!~ I-"

He moans as he shoots his load into you and fill up your pussy, having both of your juices mixed up. His other cock also shooting cum onto your stomach. Your body twitches at the feeling of his seed inside you, grabbing both of his arms for support. He sighs in pleasure and pulls out, watching as the juices ooze out of your aching pussy.

"You did so good, Princess." is the last thing you hear before you pass out.

You flutter your eyes open to see a room that wasn't yours. Sukuna lying down next to you in bed. You look down on your clothed body to see you were cleaned up and well taken care of after.

"Sukuna..." you mutter, eyes still droopy "I can't move my legs~"

"Heh, you're gonna get used to it."

"Hm?" You tilt your head.

"You're mine now. This is the consequence of your actions, right? You can't escape now." He smirks as he picks you up and puts you on top of him.

You stare at him in shock then laugh, "Now why would I dare leave my king, he'll get lonely without me~"

You plant a sweet kiss on his lips and pull away to see a smile on his face. His smile making you feel warm inside as your cheeks tint. You giggle and snuggle into his arms and you enjoy each other's warm, and will continue to enjoy each other's presence in the future.

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #heian era

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supercutszns · 2 months

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twin beads | luke castellan

wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader

synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)

warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)

i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach

“Ahoy, sailor!”

The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming.

But maybe not as much as you love your best friend.

He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”

You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”

Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.

All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.”

“Make me, you mailman.”

Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you.

He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet.

“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you.

He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm.

“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”

“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”

You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts.

Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since.

Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)

But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep.

Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most.

Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!

Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now.

You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.”

The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!

You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath.

“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”

You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.)

When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!” It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”

Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you.

“And where’s your towel?”

“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.”

Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what’s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”

“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought.

After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.”

“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.”

He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.

The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”

“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?”

“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully.

“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”

Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere.

You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it.

“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”

“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”

Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me!

You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”

Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”

“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks.

“Not the spiders, the twins.”

Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”

He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it.

His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully.

Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”

You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.

You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much.

After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty.

“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun.

Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can.

Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”

“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”

There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”

“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly.

Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it.

You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”

“But doesn’t it make you mad?”

“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.”

“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly.

“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”

His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”

Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right?

“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath.

“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”

His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”

“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”

Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”

“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”

He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”

Oh, well. You’ll take it.

ii. you can't help but become the sun

You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does.

You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time.

When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him.

“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”

He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”

Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”

“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.”

“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back.

Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”

“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.

“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady.

“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”

The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn.

Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”

He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe.

“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?

“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance.

Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.

iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out

The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning.

“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why.

You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin.

Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously.

You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him.

“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him.

He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him.

But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal.

He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.”

You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.

Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right?

You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves.

“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy.

“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game?

“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up.

You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”

Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.”

You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut.

Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself.

The claiming symbol of Poseidon.

“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth.

Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest.

You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”

When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon.

Poseidon.

You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.

Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour.

This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes.

iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you

You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place.

It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again.

You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do.

This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life.

You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you.

You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect.

The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised?

He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”

You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”

“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water.

Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”

When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”

“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes.

“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread.

“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”

His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs.

“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”

You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He’s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out.

The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs.

You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise.

When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”

It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now.

“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why—why now? What did I do?”

Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly.

You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”

Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”

Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”

His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly.

He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”

You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”

“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”

An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.

Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”

Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.

Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon.

“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”

Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”

It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.

He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”

“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?”

You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.

“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile.

“What do you want me to ask you?”

“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”

“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”

He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world.

It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need.

Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit.

“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy.

He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”

“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour.

You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious.

He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it.

Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin.

His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse.

You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”

“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”

“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”

He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”

“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”

That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”

You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real.

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astraystayyh · 1 month

Text

Breathe

hyunjin x photographer!reader. friends to lovers with so so much tension and pining. hyunjin is too pretty (yet again). suggestive in the end and reader is wearing a dress. inspired by Bathtub hyunjin.

thank you hyunjin yet again for being my eternal muse and inspiring this brainrot. wrote this while listening to All mine by plaza so.. please enjoy <333 feedback is highly appreciated 🫶🏻

Is it possible to drown in the depths of your emotions, until breathing becomes a forgotten process, one that eludes each one of your senses?

Yes, you believe, if standing before a vision of ethereal beauty, as you are now, all encapsulated within Hwang Hyunjin’s being.

The camera slightly shakes in your grasp as you linger by the threshold of the bathroom, eyeing Hyunjin’s silhouette submerged in the waters. He’s sitting inside the bathtub, fingers running through his raven locks, awaiting your return.

He doesn’t seem to notice your presence, nor do you wish him to. Instead, you remain silent by the door, allowing yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating aura he exudes.

See, he isn’t doing anything particular, nor is he adorned in anything enticing— a simple white shirt and matching linen pants. And yet, his presence fills the air, compelling oxygen particles to flee from your being, leaving you transfixed, unable to do anything but gaze at him.

“I can feel you staring,” he remarks casually, his eyes still drawn before him as he leans back, tapping the edge of the tub with his ring-clad fingers.

Your heart pulses against your ribs, a dance that the organ knows intimately by now, one that Hyunjin alone can orchestrate. It isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, it is a familiar territory you first breached when Minho introduced you to him.

Hyunjin is a friend, but his hands find your waist more times than deemed platonic, and you like his touch much more than you’d like to admit.

“I'm assessing my subject, you know?” A faint grin dances upon your lips as you approach the bathtub. Hyunjin is doing you a favor— you just booked your first photography gig, and your client only has one condition: to shoot it in a bathtub. You wanted to translate your vision to life beforehand, and Hyunjin volunteered to help you.

“And how do I look?” he inquires, his smile a sugary dream that coaxes forth his left dimple. You place your camera gently on the countertop, bending down to inspect him up close.

His eyelids glisten with the golden glitter you delicately applied earlier. His skin is dewy, glistening underneath the warm lightning, and his lips drip crimson, courtesy of the cherry chapstick you carefully tapped into place.

There is always a myriad of visions that come to your mind when you think of Hyunjin— a blazing fire where each flame surges higher towards the heavens, a burning dance of passion and confidence; or a delicate red rose standing resilient in an empty field, vulnerable yet unwavering in its strength.

And now, you see a siren, beckoning mortals with a voice of beauty, ensnaring them with its hypnotic allure, much like he captivates you in this moment.

“You look nice,” you settle on saying, and he playfully pouts, his thumb grazing against your wrist lightly, akin to the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wing. “That's it? You never compliment me properly.”

“Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” you shrug, grabbing a dozen of roses and scattering them all around his body. You nod, satisfied with the outcome, finally retrieving your camera.

“Let's start with a simple shot, look at the camera, as you would when seducing someone.”

Instead of looking at the lens, Hyunjin's gaze finds yours first. With a deliberate slowness, his eyes trace the contours of your form, sending delicious shivers down your spine. His pupils dilate, his gaze darkens, before he reluctantly tears his eyes away, finally shifting his focus to the camera.

it takes you a few beats longer to find your voice once again.

“Hold still, one… two… three,” you murmur, capturing a few shots, pausing for a few seconds to admire the warmth of the light bouncing off his honeyed skin. “Perfect.”

“Me or the picture?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll yours in response.

“The photographer.”

“You’re right, you're perfect,” he replies simply, and you're momentarily taken aback, your eyes widening slightly. He notices, a small smile playing on his lips as you grab his hand to adjust his pose.

“You aren't allowed to speak anymore,” you declare, guiding his index finger to his lips while his head rests on his other curled fist. He grins, before his expression morphs into a smoldering gaze, one that blankets your skin in hues of red from its sheer intensity.

“Look at me this time,” you instruct, and he nods obediently, directing his gaze towards you. Though your eyes remain fixed on the lens, you can sense the intensity of his gaze piercing through you—suddenly, the white dress you're wearing feels too sheer to contain the flames ignited by his stare.

“Mm,” you hum in approval as you look at the result. A sweet realization washes over you as you notice the subtle shift in his gaze— does he know his eyes unconsciously soften when they land on you?

With each click of the camera, your nerves dissipate, replaced by a growing confidence as each shot turns out exquisitely. They look worthy of gracing billboards worldwide, a privilege of working with a model as beautiful as him, one who portrays emotions as if they were crafted solely for him to feel.

“Good, let's try an overhead shot now,” you instruct, slinging the camera strap around your neck before climbing into the bathtub, legs on either side of his body. You’re hovering over him as he gazes up at you, his fluttering eyelashes echoing the erratic beat of your heart.

Your eyes briefly trace the contours of his now-translucent white shirt, a veil that delicately clings to his form, accentuating the sculpted lines of his physique—the arc of his v-line melding seamlessly into the fabric of his trousers. He possesses the body of a masterful dancer, a muse Michelangelo himself would have revered.

“Take off your shirt,” you suddenly request, and though your words are met with a quirked eyebrow, he obliges effortlessly. With a fluid motion, he peels the garment from his frame, sending it sailing across the bathroom's expanse.

“Good?” he questions but you remain silent because words have suddenly become beyond your grasp. Your client's request for a portrait suddenly feels inadequate and you almost itch to cancel it, because you know it won't exude the same beauty as Hyunjin’s. For each fiber of his being flusters you, makes you hyper aware of your every pulse point and how they all come together to chant Hyunjin’s name.

“Look up at me as you lean back,” you finally say, positioning the camera directly above his head. With each click, your heartbeat speeds up even more at the sight— collarbones and arms bathed in the play of light and shadow, his long, wet hair cascading over broad shoulders, and worse of all, a faint smirk that graces his placid face, as if he's aware of how breathtaking he looks in this moment.

“Should I do this?” he asks, picking up a rose and brushing its dewy petals against his lips. You swallow hard, nodding meekly before swiftly capturing a few more frames.

Emotions twist you into a peculiar being, yearning for your very soul to liquefy, transforming into the water droplets adorning the rose's petals, longing to caress Hyunjin’s lips too.

Hyunjin suddenly straightens his posture, hands coming to rest gently on your calves, fingers dancing along the hems of your dress with a delicate touch.

“How’d I do? Do I look good for you?” he asks and your knees weaken beneath you, his words rendering you a merciless leaf, swayed by the fiery winds he commands, with his words, with his touch, with his eyes, all solely on you.

“For me?” you echo, and he nods, his hand moving languidly up and down your leg, pausing delicately at your knee.

“Mm. You're the only one I want to impress.”

Your response escapes your being breathlessly. “And why is that?”

“Didn't you ask me not to speak?” he grins, running a hand through his hair. Swiftly, you place your camera on the counter before kneeling down, your thighs now brushing against his own.

“Speak,” you command, and in an instant, he seizes your waist, drawing your body close until you're straddling him, legs enveloping his middle.

“Say it again,” he whispers, and you thread your fingers through the strands of his hair, gently tugging at the edges until his head tilts back, exposing the expanse of his neck.

“I said…” you trail off, leaning in until your nose grazes the warmth of his skin.

Being this close to Hyunjin isn't unfamiliar to you; your interactions have always teetered on the brink of almost-kisses, your bodies drawn together like magnets, two halves of an orange yearning to reunite.

Yet, this moment feels different, much more fateful, as if the universe has granted you one final opportunity—to finally ignite in passion or perish into ash.

“Tell me. I want to know,” you urge, your voice a whisper against his skin, laden with unspoken desires.

“Because... I like you a lot. So much that you're the only one I think of all day. And I want you to like me too. I feel like I need it to breathe.”

His response catches you off guard with its vulnerability, the intimacy it drapes on this moment. The water envelops your intertwined bodies as your hands find solace atop his chest, his rapid heartbeat seeping into your palm.

“I always forget how to breathe around you,” you confess, a sheepish smile gracing your lips. The grin that blooms on his face is radiant, casting a glow on the room that cannot be replicated by artificial lighting.

“If you forget how to breathe, I'll give you all my oxygen,” he promises, his thumb tracing gently across your cheekbones. You see the sun in his smile, feel its warmth in his words that burn you. “I think it always belonged to you anyway,” he murmurs, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I think... I wanna give you back what's yours. Would you let me, pretty?” he asks, his voice a tender plea.

And amidst all the planets you know and the countless universes that may exist, you cannot fathom a single one where your answer would be anything but yes.

“Please,” you whisper, and his lips crash against yours in a fervent dance.

Your lips part before swiftly meeting again, and you close your eyes, surrendering to a world where all your senses converge to breathe Hyunjin in—your hands exploring the contours of his chest, your mouth savoring the sweetness of his lips infused with your cherry chapstick, your nose inhaling his scent, a delicate blend of vanilla and tobacco pulling you into a dizzying dance, your ears catching the gentle rhythm of his breaths and the faint thud of his heartbeat, all resonating within you.

And you don't need your eyes to see Hyunjin; he's indelibly etched behind your eyelids from all the time you've spent admiring him before.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he draws back, “I should have kissed you much sooner.”

“Mm?” you grin, intertwining your hands behind his neck, “Was it that good?”

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“Then show me,” you grin, a playful glint in your eyes.

His gaze sparkles with mischief, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk, his hands finding your waist once more. Breathing is not necessary if it gives you Hyunjin in the end.

“Oh, I will.”

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fanfic #(also just realized last time i posted was exactly one month ago for hyunjin’s birthday KADJJD this was fated.)

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vibingandsimping · 8 months

Text

Randomly assorted headcanons (sfw+nsfw) for randomly assorted characters… pt. 2

I have yet to make a pinned post with some sort of navigation/rules guide but I will state in all my posts. Asks and Submissions are always open and if you have trouble with it comment!

Not proofread cause that’s for the weak 🥰

Characters involved: Gale, Halsin, Karlach

Tags/Forewarnings: AFAB + AMAB genitalia mentions, use of magic to enhance sex, size differences, breeding, general worshipping, oral (receiving + giving), temperature play, fingering, penetration.

Gale

Y’all love pathetic men… I support. Anyways… Tell me i’m wrong but he’d love to spoil you. We already know he practically worships the ground you walk on. You entered his life full of strife and paved a way for him to have a more hopeful future. His eyes are practically hearts when he gazes upon you. As such, he’d love to buy you and craft you things when he can. He’d buy you a gorgeous dress/vest/suit and enchant it to your liking. It feels, quite literally, like magic when you wear it. He presses kisses to your ear as he sings about how downright breathtaking you are. You hate the fact that the words make a giggle bubble in your chest.

He holds you at any opportunity he gets. In truth, he cannot fathom that you two are lovers. He’s been with a goddess before but even she did not compare to you. His pinky grazes yours as you two stand near eachother. When someone’s back turns, he presses kisses onto your cheek until you forcibly push him away. Which he always uses his puppy eyes as a retaliation to show his hate. Curse those big brown eyes. If you’d let him, he’d be more intimate without being inherently sexual. His hands glide along your skin as he helps you bathe in a nearby river or lake. Occasionally he whispers about how perfect you are to him, inside and out.

Personally, this man is the male version of a wine aunt. Once he feels that he can unwind in the camp without facing repercussions, he likes to get delightfully tipsy. Enough that his skin warms and his tongue loosens. He laughs along with the companions and makes chatter in the quiet camp. If you happen to grace him with your presence, he sings out your name and beckons you forth. To his surprise, you settle next to him on the bedroll and he wraps an arm around your waist. Squeezing you tight as he presses his nose against the pulse in your neck. He murmurs almost incoherently but you can tell from the tone of his voice it was sweet nothings.

When the camp is silent and everyone is asleep, he enjoys the thrill of seeking you out. He finds you in your bedroll and gently shakes you awake, claiming he desires you and cannot sleep. If you are so kind to spare your sleep and indulge him, he promises he’ll make it worth your time. You two trail off to somewhere more secluded before he grasps you by the waist and presses his lips onto yours. His lips aren’t too rough against yours but pleasantly warm. His fingers dance along your skin, trailing the expanse of your stomach. Suddenly, he’s whispering against your lips. You can’t tell if he’s worked you up properly or if he’s genuinely speaking nonsense. Then, a sudden and intense shiver runs through your body. He smirks at you slightly and you cannot help the excitement in your veins.

You’d nearly forgotten about the strange shiver that encompassed your body until you were on your knees in front of him. His expression held a soft intimacy yet a deep desire. He was anything but pure… just so willing for your attention and love. His cock would throb before you in a silent plead for touch. You wrap your hand around the base before wrapping your lips around the tip. He gasps softly at the sensation whilst your eyes widened. As you touched him, there was a tingle in your own loins. It was shockingly intense and you mentally cursed this man for the effect he had on you. Steeling yourself, you began to work on his shaft. Suckling, licking, stroking… all while breathy gasps and whimpers escaped his chest. The tingle in your body didn’t dissipate- no, it only grew stronger. That’s when you gazed up at him in realization. His gaze was knowing and a little dark. The bastard charmed you… so that all the pleasure he experienced you’d experience and vice-versa. So that you two were properly intermingled for all the pleasure indulged that night.

He takes a certain pleasure in finding the spots on your body that make you shake and moan. Especially those that aren’t explicitly between your thighs. If he finds a spot on your neck, or thighs, or chest that makes you whimper and grasp his hair? He’s showering it with all his attention and love until it’s practically numb. His beard tickles your skin and causes you to occasionally squirm from the sensation. He wants you as turned on and into him as he is you. You can feel his erection against your thigh as he covers your neck in hickeys. His hips occasionally grinding for some sort of friction as he focused on you. If your hand trails down to his bulge, he grabs it swiftly and holds it beside your head. His lips are swollen and wet from his kisses and his pupils are blown wide. “Not yet, please, I’m not done. Not ready for this to be over yet…” He whines and gazes at you with a certain twinkle. Who are you to tell him no? Or, maybe that’s what you want to see?

Halsin

He adores the size difference you two have. He towers over nearly everybody he knows and gotten used to being large. Honestly, it was kind of a nuisance at times. He envied others who could bed anyone without the worry of repercussions. Yet, that is a topic for discussion later down this list. Point said, he loves the feeling you provide in his chest. A protective instinct overwhelms him. No matter how soft, rugged, muscular or chubby you are. He wants to hold you and ensure you’ll be safe. The look in his eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to even reach him bending over for a kiss shows the thrill he finds in it. It’s even better when you two are cuddling and you can rest your body so comfortably ontop of his. He’ll encapsulate his arms around your form and keep you close, enjoying the thrum of your heart as you sleep.

He’d teach you how to carve wood, if you’d like. It was one of his hobbies and for you to show interest in it only reminds him of how fine a specimen you are. He’s careful as he teaches you, watchful eyes constantly glancing and staring over your shoulder as your thumbs turn the wood and the knife makes shavings. His hands wrap around yours and guide you when you struggle or use improper technique. His chest slotted against your back as he hums softly, paying no mind to how flustered you’d get. When you finish your first lesson, you both show off the sculptures you made. He’s thoroughly impressed and praises whatever you decided to carve. Later, you find it on a table in his tent. The sight makes your chest tighten and heart soar. He loves you so utterly deeply.

He craves you so desperately it is almost amusing. Your touch, your voice, your presence. He doesn’t outwardly express it but there’s a certain air around him when you approach. His gaze softens as his chest puffs and he watches you expectantly. Despite all the lovers he’s taken in his years, you’d swear he looks like he’s fallen in love for the first time. He’s nearly whipped by you. No-one has seemed so enraptured by you before. Each word you speak he’s hung unto, he watches all your movements so closely. Halsin makes sure to wrap you tightly in his hugs. Both to show you that he loves all of you and to remind you of the fact he wishes to protect you. He knows his boundaries and doesn’t follow you like a lost puppy… but when you seek him of your own accord he’s utterly thrilled.

This man is a breeder. Don’t argue with me on it. He seeks all the thrills and pleasures of nature. Regardless of if you can or cannot get pregnant, he stuffs you so full that in your haze you are sure you’ll carry his kid. He tries so hard to be gentle with you and to some degree he is. His hands trail your skin softly like you were fine china. Though, he allows himself the pleasure of gripping your curves, dips and muscles. While he holds you so gently, you cannot say the same for where he’s pushing his length into. It’s vigorous- almost mind-numbing. He groans into your ear shamelessly and with the knowledge you find it attractive. If you’d let him, he’d give into his desires and fill you til he was sure he had nothing else left to give. He’d pick you up after and bathe you. Washing you of the forest dirt and sweat accumulated on your skin. All while whispering about how he adores you and you’ve done so well for him.

We all know he’s a munch/dick eater. It’s literally confirmed in his sex scene that he immediately goes down on you… and for that I will write for.

AFAB. He’ll hook a thigh over his shoulder and press his nose against the bump of your cunt. His tongue lavishes your clit in licks and suckles as his gaze remains heady on yours. If you can even look at him, that is. One hand trails on the leg you’re standing on before teasing your parted lips. He gathers your wetness and pushes a singular finger inside. He watches as your body tenses and relaxes from his ministrations. His tongue does not stop it’s assault. Then it’s two fingers, hooking and searching for the spot that he knows will make you abandon previous care. Once he finds it, you’re crying out to the woods. His large fingers practically abuse your walls as he sucks your clit like a madman. You began to whimper and shake in his hold. His strength became apparent when he pushes your hips against the tree to keep you still. To show that you cannot escape his pleasure and act of love. Pride swells in his chest and he keeps going until you’re shuddering in his hold. The coil in your belly snapping as hands fly down to grasp his hair, hips rocking against his face.

AMAB. There’s a smirk that engraves his face when he sees exactly how hard you’d gotten for him. His hands wrap around your thighs as he trails kisses along the skin of your stomach. Then, as soon as you open your mouth to protest, a kiss is placed on the tip. You tense and he begins to show your length some attention. One hand abandons your thigh to favor your sack, gently fondling as his kitten licks and kisses turn into something more intense. Lips wrapping around the head before taking you in one gulp. Your head throws back and your thighs quiver. Either he had tons of experience or you were simply smaller in comparison and he could do it with ease. Either way, the warmth of his throat is nearly overwhelming to your senses. He looks up between your legs when he could, bobbing his head as you began to melt into the pleasure. His nails gently scratched the skin of your thigh while his other continued it’s undivided attention to the sensitive skin of your balls. He continues like this, humming and suctioning around your cock until you either spill down his throat or pull him off of you. Either way, he has a cocky smile on his face as he wipes spit and precum from his lips.

Karlach

She is a very passionate woman. She burns bright, literally and metaphorically, and is a flame that will forever burn by your side. She is especially passionate about her companions and most importantly you. She supports you in nearly every decision you make and if she doesn’t agree, she tries to understand anyways. She’s loud and speaks so highly of you to those she meets. Almost like a mother showing off her kids accomplishments in life. She’d likely be such a good mother if she ever had that opportunity. Until you fix her mechanical heart she supports you with just words and actions. As much as she craves to pull you into her grasp or press her lips on yours, she’s a ticking bomb and is capable of hurting those. When you do fix it? She can barely keep her hands and lips off you. Ten years of forced abstinence nearly drove her MAD. While she doesn’t outright burn you, she’s so, so warm.

She loves jamming out. Dancing, playing an instrument, singing… it gives her an excuse to release her pent up energy. Bard or not, she gives you those puppy eyes and nearly begs you to join her. She’ll dance with you and wrap her arms around your waist or hold your hand as you two dip and twirl. Her laugh is an angelic sound and any reservations you held melted away in her intense heat and passion. She had a way of lighting the room up and bringing out the best in those around her. You admired her for it. She eventually slows the rhythm between you two and smiles against your skin (hunched over or not). She whispers against you, light and full of emotion. “You have no idea how thankful I am to have met you. I feel complete.” The breath you take is shaky as her words fill you with such fullness. This tiefling had wormed her way into your heart like the tadpole your mind. Except, this was a worm you wished to keep. You both would do anything for each other and you both knew it.

She absolutely seethes when anyone does you dirty. The girl is quite literally growling when someone hurts you emotionally or physically. Even a wrong look can have her hackles raising and her all pissed. You sometimes have to sit her down and remind her that you’re fine. She assures you’re safe and you appreciate it. After losing so much in her life, the control of her own body and mind, she cannot imagine losing you. Small threats alarm her and she feels guilty that she cannot contain her emotions. This time you assured her that you weren’t going anywhere because she was passionate and hot-headed. You two had your own issues… and she wants nothing more than to work through them together and be the biggest supporters for each other. She pulls you into a bear hug afterwards, nuzzling against your jaw as her horn tangles in your hair. She plants kisses along the skin til you’re laughing and the air is less tense between you two.

As much as she so UTTERLY wishes to touch you, she’s so touch deprived. You know that she needs the attention after she’s had her heart repaired. You lay her down on the ground and trail kisses from her lips down to her throat and to her chest. She watches you with an excitement. It appears as if she was ready to jump out of her skin from the pure joy of being able to enjoy the sensations of flesh once more. You pay extra attention to her breasts and nipples before continuing further down to her navel. At this point, she’s squirming and whimpering desperately. “Come on, babe. Don’t tease me. I need you- so badly..” Her tone was pathetic if anything. There was no true fight or bite in her words. She liked giving her submission to you for once, letting her mind shut down. You wished nothing more than to give her what she deserved after all this time.

Once you finally reach further south, your hands slot around her hips and hold them down as you plant a few kisses against the inner of her thigh. All the teasing between you two was so worth it when you hear the wanton moan escape her lips as your tongue finally met her most sensitive parts. The heat of her cunt was intense- just like the rest of her. It was nearly overwhelming… almost burning your tongue. Yet, you ached for that warmth. To finally enjoy her moans and provide her with such pleasure. She has claws in your hair, tugging and tickling your scalp. One hand on her chest as you begin a rhythm with your tongue against her clit. Once she was beginning to properly fall apart against your mouth, you released a hand from her hip and trailed betwixt her lower lips. Your fingers sought her warmth and was pleasantly surprised with how she burned even hotter inside. Truly a creature of the hottest hells. Yet, it didn’t quite burn you… certainly was a different sensation compared to the crisp air around you. You know that she’ll return this pleasure tenfold to you. It’s her nature… and you couldn’t wait til you two were properly intertwined later in the night.

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scudslut · 3 months

Text

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #twd drabbles #fem!reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #norman reedus smut #y/n grimes #daryl x grimes reader #twd smut #daryl twd #twd fanfiction

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leafleaf · 3 months

Text

Princess

Summary: Luke never would have thought he'd ever have eyes for the daughter of Hades and Persephone.

Warnings!: Fem! Hades & Persephone reader, because Hades cabin doesn't exist yet, she's a minor god, so she stays in whatever cabin she pleases until the time of Nico Di Angelo. Timing is placed before tlt . She has pyro kenesis basically fire control. I've changed somethings, she's not considered a forbidden child because she's born from two gods, not a god and a human. This isn't canon obvi i made it up to fit the story.

Whenever Luke was called to the big house, he knew he was never in trouble. It was always to show around and be informed of a new arrival. But this time when he got to Chiron and Mr. D they seemed a little bit more..serious about this new camper.

"Ah Luke, come sit with us." Chiron beckoned him to sit with him and Mr. D while they were playing cards. This was already out of the ordinary, usually when there was a new camper, he would get a brief run down of who they were and when they were coming, and he would be sent back on his merry little way. He slowly pulled out the chair and sat. "We have a new camper coming tomorrow."

Okay nothing new, "That's great, I'll be showing them around tomorrow?" He asks knowing the answer is yes.

"Yes, but there are some things you need to know before her arrival." Chiron answers. Great, so the new camper is a girl.

"This girl.." Chiron continues. Luke waited. He was so curious. Was she a forbidden child? Was she a crazy psycho? "She's the daughter of Hades, and Persephone." That answered all of Luke's questions.

The Princess of the Underworld would be coming to Camp Half-Blood, and he needed to escort her around.

"She'll arrive tomorrow early in the morning, be ready kid. O' eight hundred. " Dionysus continued.

"You are dismissed." Chiron says not once looking up from his intense game or cards with Mr. D. Whelp, this was gonna be very interesting for Luke.

Luke woke up the next morning at around 7 am. Perfect amount of time to get ready and to eat something before showing the new camper around. It had occurred to Luke that he didn't know her name. Chiron hadn't told him. By the time he was done getting ready and had a bite to eat, it was about 7:50. Perfect timing.

He made it to the borders of camp to wait for the girl. Nonethe less when the clock struck 8:00am and all of the campers started to ride due to the morning conch. A big pink flame of fire emerged from the ground. It startled Luke, but as the flame started to go away, the silhouette of a girl peaked through. She was facing the other way looking around. And when she turned around..

Oh boy.

Luke fell hard. His palms were starting to sweat, he felt his heart thumping. Of course he had always heard the myths and the stories about the Princess of the underworld. In almost all of them they had all mentioned her beauty. And boy were those words true.

"Are you the boy that's showing me around? Father said that I would have an escort?" She said. Her voice was like the calm after a storm. Luke didn't answer. "Uhm? Sir?" She questioned.

"Oh! Uhm yes! that's me. Uh I'm Luke." He managed to get out while offering his hand to her.

She took it, boy her hands were soft like feathers. "I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you, but can we get going? It's quite hot today." She said

Without thinking Luke says "You'd think you'd be used to the heat, being from the underworld and all." Luke's eyes widen when he realized what he said.

He looked her in the eyes and at first he thought he fucked up. She had a deadpan on her face. But when they stared at each other for a bit she started to crack, and she let out the most beautiful laugh Luke had ever heard.

"Well, let's get going Luke, we wouldn't wanna burn out here," She said with a little giggle sending a small amber his way.

He was in awe. She had fire powers, just like the stories said.

After a while. The pair got close. They were friends...that's if you still count them as your friends even though you're constantly flirting all of the time.

And that was the dynamic between the two. They were always bickering or flirting, or both at the same time. Luke knew from the moment he saw her he was doomed. He had never felt this way about anyone before. Every camper saw it, Luke looked at Y/n like she hung the stars in the sky, and honestly if you told Luke she did, he would believe you.

After a while the two had even received a name, the princess and her guardian. Because wherever Y/n was Luke wasn't too far by lingering around her, always keeping an eye on her.

They never admitted they're feelings for each other however. Not until the incident about a year after Y/n's first summer at camp.

"Oh come on Y/n, why don't you ditch that loser Luke and be with me." Ben from Aphrodite cabin said to her as she sat by herself with her lunch waiting for Luke.

"Excuse me?" She said with offence. Luke for one was NOT a loser, okay maybe he was just a bit but still. That was rude, and Y/n didn't like rude people.

"You heard me doll." He said with a smug smirk. Gross, that nick name did not come out as good as he thought it did.

"Leave me alone please, now you're just being ridiculous." She stated. Y/n was very open with her boundaries and did not like it when they were crossed.

"Oh come on, you know you want to." This guy just couldn't take the hint.

"She said leave dude." Luke stated from behind you. You looked back and smiled mouthing "Thank you."

"Well well, the loser himself. Y/n deserves a real man, after all, she is a princess." He said in a snarky tone.

"Dude seriously just back off." Luke said stepping up chest to chest with him now. Y/n stood now, she didn't like conflict, and she definitely did not want to be the reason why it started.

"Come on Luke, let's just go." She said trying to tug him away. Luke looked at her then back at the smug boy. Luke huffed and turned around.

"Yeah go ahead and go cry to your daddy! Oh wait..." Ben shouted as they walked away. This time Luke wasn't the only one that was fighting now. Y/n knew all about Hermes and how he treated Luke. Now this made her angry.

"What did you say?" Y/n said as she turned around.

"You heard me clear and-" He stopped talking as he took in Y/n's state. Her eyes burned with fire. Her fists ready with flames.

"Can you repeat yourself?" She said coming closer to him.

Ben started to panic. "Help!" He yelled, as if everyone eyes weren't on them the second Y/n turned around. "This girl is crazy!" He cried.

Y/n fake lunged forward toward him which scared him endlessly making him run off to cry to mommy. Of course Y/n wasn't going to actually hurt him. Just scare him a bit so he wouldn't mess with her and Luke.

Now that Ben was away, so was the crowd. Nothing to watch anymore so everyone went about their day. Now it was just her and Luke.

She calmed and so did her fire. She turned to see Luke staring at her with more twinkle in his eyes than usual.

"Yes?" She asked.

"I'm in love with you." Luke said.

"What?"

"I love-" Luke was cut off with a pair of lips colliding with his. It was everything Luke thought it would be. Her lips were soft, just like he imagined. He always thought he would kiss her first though. I guess some things can't be predicted.

"I love you too Luke Castellan." She said after they pulled apart.

The two stared at each other with their rosy cheeks and they're foreheads pushed together.

Luke never would have thought in a million years that he would be with the Princess of the Underworld, there's a first to everything though.

A/n: I've been having writers block recently. I literally don't know what to write, so if you have an requests, they're open on my acct!!

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fic #pjo #percy jackson

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notjustjavierpena · 11 months

Text

Gush

A/N: Just pure filth.

Summary: Joel, your dad’s best friend, teaches you how to come with your clit untouched.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dad’s best friend, daddy kink (yeah it was bound to happen), pet names, innocence kink, age gap, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, only very brief piv sex, unprotected sex

Word count: 1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48494866

Gush

You let out a frustrated groan as you look up at the ceiling, arms crossed over your chest and with the prettiest pout that Joel has ever seen displayed on anyone’s face. He sits on his knees in front of your naked body, cock heavy between his legs but with no intention of using it on you and thus making you even more bitter about the situation.

“It’s not going to happen, daddy,” you say as you avoid Joel’s soft eyes. He rubs a hand over your naked belly, skimming it across the sensitive skin below your belly button. He isn’t going to give up.

“Well, no, not if ya don’t relax,” he says with a smug chuckle. You try to cross your legs to get him to go away, but he catches you by your ankles and places each of your feet flat on the bed again, “Stay, sweetheart. We’ll keep going until we get it right.”

You’ve been at it for what feels like hours now, but Joel hasn’t made you come yet with your clit untouched but oh, you have been on the brink so many times that your cunt is throbbing and a steadily growing pool of arousal is forming on his bedsheets. It’s beginning to feel ridiculous, especially when he bats your hand away when you try to take matters into your own hands.

“Daddy knows exactly how you touch yourself, I don’t needa see it again,” he had told you after your third attempt to sneak a hand down to your clit.

Now, you’ve given up coming anytime soon, but Joel is still determined as ever. He runs his thick fingers through your folds once more to slick up his fingers, then twists his wrist and inserts two fingers into your already stretched pussy.

“You know,” you say after a soft moan, deciding to look down once again to see his digits stretch you open, “I have to be home for dinner in an hour. Dad’s lighting up the barbecue.”

“He told me he was getting it out for the first time this summer,” he small talks back at you, curling his fingers inside of you and finding your eyes with his own, “There, yeah?”

He rubs once and you nod, moaning as he starts up a rhythm of his fingers slowly fucking against your g-spot. You shift a little, relax a bit further into the mattress and let your knees fall out to the sides.

“Don’t think of anything from now on, just of this,” he says quietly, pumping his digits in and out of you.

It starts out completely the same, and it’s enough to make you want to cuss at him. You know better than that though, and let out a whine, “It’s not going to work. Just rub my clit, daddy, please. It hurts now.”

“Shut up, I got something I want to try,” he coaxes your orgasm a little further. It’s the same build-up; something pooling in the pits of your stomach and tugging from inside your womb, but God, you need that little extra thing to tip you over the edge.

Or do you? Something changes then, and you realize that Joel’s other hand is resting just above your pubic bone. He pushes down gently and gradually speeding up his fingers, creating more pressure and friction inside of you.

“What’re…?” You let out a gasp that even surprises yourself, your toes starting to curl and your clit starting to pulse as if begging to be paid attention to, “Touch my clit. Please, oh— f— Joel, daddy. Touch it. Keep going, no, touch it.”

“No,” he says, beckoning your orgasm closer with his fingers. He makes a come-hither motion over and over again, keeping his other hand still on your belly until he can feel his fingers moving inside your cunt, “Wanna see that cute fucking clit pulse just for me, ain’t gonna be able to see it if my fingers are on it, baby girl.”

You panic a little when a new sensation starts coming from inside of you. It’s a form of pressure that you’re familiar with but not during sex, and you start thrashing a little to get him off, “Joel! Joel, I swear, I— I’m gonna pee. If you don’t stop, I’ll… oh my God, Joel, I’m fucking serious. You’re gonna make me— make me…”

You come with a high-pitched moan as all the tension in your body snaps. Every nerve-ending in your clit is on fire with sweet contractions of pleasure, and suddenly your whole heartbeat goes straight to between your thighs as your cunt spasms from clit to slit. It wants something more though, because your legs won’t stop violently shaking, and Joel seems to know exactly what that is.

Without saying a thing, he removes his fingers from you and you fear that you might actually have pissed his bed because, without warning, a wet gush has stained the sheets between him and you.

His fingers enter you once more, and you’re ready to cry as he causes another gush of clear liquid to squirt onto the mattress. It feels so fucking good despite how embarrassing it feels, climax slowly fading as he repeats the move a few more times.

You collapse completely when he finally lets go of you with both his hands. You’re panting softly into the bedroom, and he gets the shirt he had worn earlier off the floor to cover the stained sheets.

“Holy shit, the princess squirts,” Joel laughs as he crawls on top of you, but it’s a laugh filled with wonder and excitement. He looks younger like this, you think.

He hovers above you, reaches down to guide his hard cock inside of your still sensitive cunt. Both of you gasp in unison, but you’ve never heard his voice so cocky, “You, young lady, are the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen when you come like that.”

It’s enough to make any sense of embarrassment go away, and you can’t wait to ask him to do it again.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #my writing #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel tlou #tlou #joel the last of us #dbf!joel

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moonstruckme · 17 days

Note

can you write remus and reader sharing a cigarette together, something about that is just so intimate to me i want to cry

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: smoking

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 808 words

Remus can feel you looking at him in his periphery. He sighs, sending smoke billowing out into the dark alleyway, even as he feels the corner of his mouth tilt up.

“We’re terrible influences on you,” he says.

“You’re terrible influences,” James corrects him, standing upwind and looking at him and Sirius like they’re contagious. “I am nothing but good to her.”

“Come on.” You grin at Remus, and yeah, that mischief in your eyes is definitely a result of spending too much time with their bunch. “I just wanna try.”

Lately, you’ve been campaigning for a cig every time he’s having one. You’d never thought about it before you had friends who smoked, but now you’re curious, and he and Sirius’ regular smoke breaks don’t help matters. If Remus was a better friend, he’d show more restraint.

“Mm, ‘fraid this is my last one,” he says, not lying but definitely not upset about it.

You roll your eyes. “Sirius?”

The glow of Sirius’ cherry lights his eyes with a smug amusement. “Don’t look at me, doll. He’ll be pissy if I give you one.”

Remus has to suppress a grin when you turn back to him, arms crossed over your chest. “Really? I could just go get a pack on my own, you know.”

Remus exhales smoke out one side of his mouth, watching you from the corner of his eye as he does. You look back at him, obstinate if a bit playful.

“Fine,” he says. “We can share this one, if you want to try so badly.”

Your expression falters, and he thinks he might have won, your bashfulness about your crush on him overpowering your want, but then challenge glints in your eye and Remus knows he hasn’t. Competitiveness is another thing you’ve picked up from their group (Remus likes to think that’s more James and Sirius than himself), and now once you’ve caught a whiff of a challenge there’s no deterring you.

“Perfect,” you reply brightly.

Remus tries once more. “You sure?”

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “You’ll be sending yourself down a path of corruption and lung problems.”

“Just this once,” you promise.

“Just this once,” Remus agrees sternly.

You beckon, and he taps the ash off the end of his cigarette, reluctantly passing it to you. You take it between your thumb and forefinger and lift it to your lips.

“Just take a shallow breath,” Remus warns.

You do, the cherry glowing only dimly as you inhale cautiously. Good girl, he thinks to himself. You blow out the smoke just as slowly, features tightening as you try to keep from coughing.

Sirius laughs at the obvious strain, and a small cough escapes you. They all clap, Sirius still chuckling and Remus with a small, begrudging smile on his face.

“That’s actually not so bad,” you say, somewhat croakily.

“Oh? Happy to hear it.” Remus takes the cig back from you, putting it to his own lips again and trying not to think about how yours were just on it. It’s not the first time he’s shared a cigarette, but somehow with you it feels different. He has an inkling as to why.

As he takes it away from his mouth, you reach for it again.

He dodges you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I want another,” you say.

“No.”

“What?” A laugh trips off your tongue, and Remus holds the cigarette aloft as you make another grab for it. “Come on, you said we’d share!”

“I’m not done with my turn yet,” he says, taking a hearty drag.

“You’re going to finish it off before I can have any!”

“Don’t know what you mean.”

You reach for it again, and this time Remus doesn’t put up as much of a fight, letting you pluck the cigarette from his mouth. If the side of your index finger grazes his upper lip, he certainly doesn’t notice.

You’re bolder this time, exhaling some of your air before breathing in. The cherry glows a fiery orange, and Remus feels his brow furrow.

“Slower, love,” he murmurs.

You manage not to cough this time, which Remus can tell impresses Sirius as much as it does him, blowing the smoke off to the side like you’ve seen them do a million times. It’s terribly hot.

You keep breathing out even after there’s no smoke left, then inhale, humming contemplatively.

“Sort of aches in your lungs, doesn’t it?”

“That’s the beginning of the end,” James says solemnly. “You’re done for, now.”

“She is not,” Remus chides, swiping the cig from you. “But that’ll be all.” He tuts as you protest, setting his free hand atop your head under the guise of keeping you at bay. “Don’t want to hear it. You’re too lovely to corrupt. I won’t be a part of it.”

That shuts you up.

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comfortless · 5 months

Note

hades! konig and persephone! reader

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.

notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕

A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.

When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.

It should have been left at that.

She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.

He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.

Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.

Yet, she never does.

König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.

She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.

Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.

All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.

He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.

The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.

“Why does he never speak to us?”

Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.

It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.

The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.

It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.

He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.

The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.

“Look at this one!,” she calls out.

Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”

König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.

“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”

“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”

“But… I want it.”

She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.

The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.

With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.

She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.

Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.

“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.

He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.

If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.

“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.

He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.

“I brought you here.”

She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.

The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.

She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.

His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.

“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.

A mere taste wouldn’t do.

Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.

“You are to be my wife.”

That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.

“I don’t belong here.”

König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.

“You will.”

A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.

“How could that be?”

He doesn’t respond.

More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.

“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.

Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.

“Quite… yes.”

She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.

There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.

He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.

He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.

It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.

The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.

She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.

— — —

With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.

Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.

When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.

Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.

Never has she returned with a gift.

Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.

“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.

Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.

He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.

“Did you?”

She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.

“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.

“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.

Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.

She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.

“I don’t think that I understand.”

“You should.”

He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.

She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?

“To tie you to me,” she says softly.

The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.

Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.

#König x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #König #konig #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #cod fanfic

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cal-flakes · 3 months

Note

can i pls see gun kink thoughts with rafe. real coked out and crazy, choking u with the barrel 😋

is this deranged ? probs? love u the mostest!!

it is deranged. but i also fucking love it. so maybe we are deranged. i adore u — also, i unfortunately get off on edging you mf’s so please don’t hate me when it cuts off.

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “y’think you’re the boss huh? parading yourself around in those little skirts? infront of my friends?” he spat, grip tight on your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. you attempted to shake your head, yet winced as his hold only got firmer.

rafe pushed you backwards as he let go of your cheeks, leaving you to land on the couch. your glassy eyes followed him as he paced the room— eyes frantic, pupils blown; the obvious reasoning for his unreasonable reaction to you and your usual attire.

“the fuck am i gonna do with you?” he muttered, running a hand over his buzzed head. his eyes fell on the bottom drawer of the television cabinet, causing him to stop still while his glare fell back towards you. “c’mere” he ordered, voice low and raspy as his hand beckoned you over lazily.

eager to please him, you found yourself under rafe’s sadistic gaze once more. “rafe i’m—“

“do you trust me?” he interrupted, words harsh and laced with mixed emotion. you weren’t sure what he wanted to hear, especially not when he’s like this. opting for the obvious— you nodded eagerly, peering up at him, yet frowned as he stepped passed. you watched intently as his hand dipped into the drawer, pulling out a familiar piece of heavy metal. “knees, now”

doing as you’re told, you lowered yourself in front of him, as well as your gaze— ashamed of the wetness growing between your thighs. “you’re gonna show me jus’ how much you respect me” he smirked, turning round fully to present his idea.

peering up at him, you felt your core ache for it. it was wrong— so wrong in so many ways, and yet you wanted to completely surrender to him. pulling a plump lip between your teeth, you nodded— readjusting yourself in preparation.

“tha’s it— you want me to teach y’some respect kid?” he chuckled, feeling a complete lack of surprise at your willingness. “yes”

“yes what?” he sneered, toying with the gun. you watched as his slender fingers worked the metal so carelessly— fiddling with the safety. falling into such admiration, you almost didn’t realise the light slap that blushed it’s way across your cheek. “hey— speak when spoken to kid”

“i— yes, yes sir” you whimpered.

“y’shouldn’t trust me, y’know. who knows, might blow your pretty little brains out all over the rug” he hummed, dragging the barrel of the cool metal down your cheek, tauntingly. “open your mouth for me doll”

#ʚ♡ɞ ☁: elle’s dreams #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx

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sixosix · 7 months

Text

requested by anon!! hope u enjoy, warning for profanity, fluff

As soon as Wanderer’s eyes laid upon the ball of fluff in your palms, he had said with a disdainful glare to “discard of that at once.”

But you aren’t having any of it. The little kitten curled up by your chest is looking up at you so adorably that you simply can’t discard it, no matter what your boyfriend might say. In fact, the shade of the cat reminds you of his eyes—but saying that would provoke him further, and you’re already on thin ice, letting the cute stray run around your shared home while he makes a face at each sight of its fur.

You coo as the kitten licks your nose when you hold him up to your face. “Do I name him after you? Can I name him after you? I’m naming him after you.”

His eyes narrow, glaring at the impossibly tiny space between you and the animal. “You are not naming it after me.”

“Kuni,” you negotiate. Not that he has a choice anyway because you already have your mind set on it. “Kuni, baby, are you hungry? Do you want some food?”

Your Kunikuzushi bristles, hackles rising. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”

The cat, as if beckoned by his voice, paws at him. “Meow,” the little kitten says softly. Wanderer, to the cat’s dismay, doesn’t respond; he simply rises from his seat and leaves.

So it’s established that you’ve long accepted that Wanderer is not fond of your new pet.

A crying shame because the cat adores him. You don’t know if there’s anything deep to his hatred for your new stray or if he’s just jealous that your undivided attention is no longer on him, but you took pity and decided to own the responsibility of taking care of it.

Which makes it a surprise to come home one day and see your boyfriend nestled against your bed with the kitten curled up on his chest, meowing as he smiles faintly and rubs its head with a finger.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again?” he murmurs. If you had been in another room, you wouldn't have heard it yourself. “Don’t get too greedy.”

Your breath hitches, too afraid to shatter this moment by bursting into the room. Then again, you should’ve realized that the cat has been sticking too long around him too often without something at play. Perhaps the reason why it’s so fond of your boyfriend is because of secret tender moments like this.

“Your owner will get mad at me if I overfeed you,” he says conspiratorially, rubbing his finger against the cat’s chin while it purrs and nuzzles its face further into his palm for more.

Your heart melts, a tiny noise escaping your lips at the sight of the ever-so-haughty Wanderer on the bed, all but cuddling with your pet.

Wanderer’s eyes snap the crack of the door, perfectly meeting yours as if he knew all along that you were there. “Not a word.”

You gasp, enough to startle Wanderer and make him jump but not enough to wake the sleeping kitten on his hat. Lambad’s Tavern is a little empty, with only an adult or two hanging around to drink their sorrows away or loosen up to their heart's content. And you and your boyfriend are tucked in the far corner, where no one would bother to peep.

“Kunikuzushi!” you cry out, hands hovering around his head in panic. “Kuni, careful, what if Kuni falls?”

Kunikuzushi the human(?)’s face twists in confusion. “You should have never named it that.”

“Kuni,” you hiss as his movements have caused the cat to stir, yet miraculously not wake. “Don’t let him fall, ‘kay? God, I can’t bring myself to even leave my seat.”

He sighs, long and heavy. “I’m not going to drop him. Have more faith in me, will you? I have a better sense of balance than any of you in this Tavern combined.”

“But what if he falls and you accidentally attack him by trying to save him?”

“I’m not gonna wind blade the fucking cat.”

You’re staring at the kitten, who is, unfortunately, looking all too much at home on Wanderer’s hat as if it’s more comfortable than his own bed at home. It’s even worse that Wanderer spoils the cat rotten and lets him sleep wherever he wants. Now, wherever he walks, he has a tiny animal asleep on the top of his head.

Wanderer huffs, squeezing your mouth with a hand to prevent you from arguing. “If you love the cat, you will get us food and avoid waking it up with your yapping, got it?”

“Aw,” you smile, “you don’t wanna wake him up?”

He scowls. “Are you going to let us starve?”

The sight of him and the kitten looks too adorable. You can’t resist from agreeing to whatever Kuni the human is ordering you to do. You rise from your seat, leaving but not forgetting to kiss the cat’s head and Wanderer’s cheek, who flushes brightly and grumbles but doesn’t complain.

#606:GENSHIN #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #wanderer fluff

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ymechi · 7 months

Text

The hidden creator

I had a plot bunny idea

TW: usual cult stuff, hints of yandere

-gn reader (I tried making it gender-neutral if there is a comment that is off please tell me and I will fix it)

EDIT: 14/11/2023 (changed some wording and other stuff nothing major)

Creator Reader Pov:

-You were just a regular person who one day woke up in Teyvat out of all places

-You realized you still had all your game features and figured it was one of the perks of being isekaied like in other isekai stories

-The whole thing is weird and why you were here, you had no idea

-After the novelty wears off you take some time mourning the loss of your previous life and the people you knew

-After that you try to get a semblance of a normal life like getting a job and trying to be independent

-Despite having a game system you do not want to be an adventurer or learn how to fight it's not for you

-You were previously an average civilian and raised as one it would be hard to become a fighter now

-Instead you gravitated towards creating things, you found an apprentice position in a clockwork shop in Fontaine

-It is fun and you get to tinker with gears and clocks, learning how various machines work and how to create your own items

-overall you are content

-Except weird people occasionally come by the shop you work at including the Iudex of Fontaine which had both you and the shopkeeper sweating the first few times

-Yet the man who insisted you call him by his name Neuvilette is really polite and nice to talk to, soon you warmed up to him

-You could not help the feeling as if you knew him from before, as if you forgot something, you were unusually fond of him.

-Your other "clients" if you could call them that were more intimidating, you had no idea what they were doing in this shop and it scared you

-The Fatui Harbringers occasionally stopped by the shop to buy a trinket or two before leaving, it honestly scared you and the thaught of running away to another nation had crossed your mind once or twice yet you liked your job and your boss and you made some good friends here so it was hard to leave

-Overall you were doing okay

-Except it seems the people here almost in a cult-like manner worship a creator that was never in the game lore

-It is said they resided in Celestia and not many people actually got to see them, not that it mattered for a nobody like you

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tsaritsa Pov:

-The Tsaritsa knew their so called creator was fake

-She knew she had to get rid of the fake creator as they and Celestia had caused irreparable damage

-Even if she had to stain her hands

-One day it happened something shifted in the earth, air, water- no the whole of Teyvat

-It happened so softly like a small snowflake landing on the ground

-She was hypnotized as if a siren was beckoning her she found you.

-You were their true creator

-You were wearing apprenticeship clothes tinkering with something in your hands and deeply concentrated

-She wondered if that is how you created the universe with careful and steady hands guiding and shaping it to your will.

-She wanted to take you away from this. . . small shop, yet she knew begrudgingly you were safe here, if anyone were to find out a sliver of your existence. . .

-You were safer hidden among mortals

-It left a bitter taste in her mouth

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neuvilette Pov

-It just happened one day, out of the blue, he could feel it in the shift of the waters

-The way Furina shifted and turned her head unable to sit still confirmed he was not the only one feeling this

-Something happened and he had no idea what exactly happened

-There was this familiar presence this comforting feeling, ancient old instincts waking up

-He followed it without thought until he came upon an in inconspicuous clockwork shop

-He was confused but did not hesitate to step inside

-Then he saw you and everything clicked

-It was you his creator his universe his everything

-You were back

-It seems in this incarnation you were just a human

-That was fine he was oaky with that as long as you were here

-His heart ached seeing you

-He wanted to hug and ask you to never leave again to always stay by his side, for you to comfort him after what had happened and console him

-He should take you way somewhere safer somewhere better not here-

-But weren't you safer hiding among mortals, a part of his mind whispered, no one would suspect you being here even the fake (he cursed them) would not think of finding you here, if he brought you back with him it would create more attention on you

-Attention that would cause you trouble

-He left with defeat on his steps

-It was later he would met the Tsaritsa and a deal was struck

-All for your sake

#genshin impact #sagau #self aware au #self aware genshin #neuvillette #the tsaritsa #fatui harbringers #fatui #cult au #slight yandere #I am too lazy to proofread it right now sorry for any mistakes #this was just some random idea tbh #the creator reader has no idea they are the creator they just wana tinker with clockworks #neuvilette genshin #when will we get more Tsaritsa lore mihoyo plz-#would you guys think that Pantalone would buy out the whole stock whenever it is his turn to visit?

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itsascreambaby96 · 9 months

Note

I saw you were taking asks,

Could you do Billy Loomis smut with impregnation/breeding kink? Maybe some pregnant reader stuff as well?

It's fine if you don't it's just a silly little thought I have. Thx!

Gosh I love a good breeding kink! I hope you love it! Please leave feedback!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut! Mention of pregnancy. Breeding kink. Having a baby. Possessive Billy.

Pairing: Billy Loomis x fem!reader

You are mine

You would have never thought you'd end up like this. Never in a million years did you think your boyfriend of 3 years had a raging breeding kink. Yet when you told him to just fuck you raw when you two couldn't find a condom you could see something change in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" As much as he wanted this, he wanted to make sure that you knew what you were asking for. And you did. You weren't stupid. You knew it was risky. But you were so horny and really needed him. You laid on your back, as naked as Billy in front of you. He had been looking for condoms. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him back to you.

"Please Billy. Need you." Your eyes were pleading, trying to pull at Billy without much success. He in return threw his wallet to the side and stalked over to you. His eyes were as dark as you had ever seen them. As he got on top of you, you eagerly wrapped your legs around his waist. Billy's cock was already leaking precum.

He rubbed the tip over your glistening cunt, always pushing in a little but pulling back again, making you whine.

"Billy please... Please fuck me. Wanna feel you inside of me."

"Yeah? Want my bare cock inside of you? Letting me fuck you raw? That what you want?"

You nodded eagerly and clawed at his shoulders. He gave you a passionate kiss and with one swift movement he was inside of you. Your mouth dropped open, letting out a deep moan. It somehow felt much more intimate having him bare inside of you.

"Fuck you are so warm and soft." Billy's voice was impossbly deep. To be fair that was not the only thing that was deep.

He didn't give you much time to adjust as he started to move. Snapping his hips against yours.

"Never thought sex with you could get any better." His eyes were wild but you could barely keep yours open. He set a ruthless pace. His hair hung in his face and he looked at you with hunger. Only getting more ruthless as he looked between the two of you and saw his bare cock entering you over and over again.

"Fuck babe! Gonna fill you up real nice." The idea of Billy filling you with his hot cum made you clench around him. Billy grinned at that.

"Yeah you want that? Want me to fuck it in nice and deep? Get you pregnant?"

You whined at that, clenching even more around his dick.

"Oh you really want that. Fuck- gonna be all round and full with my baby. Gonna let everyone now that you are mine!" He quickend his pace.

"Billy-" Wanton moans escaping you. Your pussy squelching as Billy snapped into you over and over again. It was music to Billy's ears.

A particular hard thrust made you arch your back. "Fuck Billy!"

"You would look so good all pregnant!" He wasn't letting up. You didn't think he would be so keen on the idea of having a child with you. But the way he talked about it made you all hot inside. You felt like your whole body was aflame. It felt like he was everywhere all at once.

"Never gonna fuck you with a condom ever again. Gonna keep you full with my seed forever." Billy snapped his hips at a percise angle, making you see stars.

"Close! So close Billy!" You could feel yourself reaching your end. Just a little more.

Billy's hand moved between the two of you staring to rub circles on your clit. You let out a pathetic moan as your orgasm crashed through you, making your vision blurry. With a few more thrusts, Billy made good of his promise and came deep inside of you. A warmness spreading inside of you.

After coming down from both your highs he stayed put just a little longer than usual. As he puller out of you he watched intently as some of his cum spilled out of you. He groaned at the sight.

Then he went to spoon you from behind. One arm placed around your boobs his other hand placed on your lower stomach.

"Can't wait to see these swell." He queezed your boobs for emphasis.

"You really want that? A baby I mean."

"Course I do. Makes it all the harder for you to leave me." Billy's possessiveness was something you had noticed very early on in your relationship with him. It was hard to deal with sometimes, but you made it work.

"As if I would leave you." You turned your head and gave him a soft kiss.

"Yeah you better not, because you are mine." He pulled you closer as he said that, his grip tight around you. You nodded.

"All yours Billy."

This wasn't the last time you talked about the topic. And Billy never fucked you with a condom again, just like he promised. So it is no wonder that you ended up pregnant a few months later.

Ever since you told Billy that you were, in fact, pregnant he was seemingly horny 24/7. He couldn't keep his hands to himself. His possessiveness doubled as well. Someone just looked at you the wrong way and he was in the persons face.

It wasn't always easy especially when your hormones were all over the place. Billy knew how to put you in your place, as he likes to put it. Though you did fight from time to time, and you were the one apologising most of the time, you actually liked being pregnant with his baby.

Once you hit the 6 months mark you grew incredibly horny, much to Billy's delight. He has been eagerly waiting for this moment, as he might or might have not read a few books on pregnancies and babies. Of course every pregnancy was different, so Billy was delighted to know you were just as horny as he was now.

The sex was amazing as always. Billy's new obsession were your boobs. He had loved them before, obviously, but now that they became larger he couldn't help himself. Most times when you were sleeping you woke up with his hand on your boobs, his other holding your pregnant belly, as if to hold the baby.

During sex he loved to slap them, squeez them and litter them with hickeys. You told him time and time again to be more careful as they were far more sensitive now, but the guy just didn't listen. Like he ever did before.

He also started to call you "Mama", which both made you want him but also made your heart swell.

"You want a sandwich too, Mama?"

"Let me carry this for you Mama."

"Hey there sexy Mama."

You even heard him call you a Milf once, when he was talking to Stu.

And he never failed to make you feel so sexy, even on your worst days. Your favourite has been when he sat behind you, with you in front of a mirror, completely naked and legs spread wide. His hands were running over your curves, telling you how beautiful you are. How much he loves you and his baby inside of you. How amazing he thinks you are for growing a whole human being inside of you. And of course telling you how "bomb as fuck" your boobs were.

Once you were even further along, the sex didn't stop but you noticed Billy becoming a little softer with you during the act. He would always kiss your belly beforehand. Before he ravished you with his eager mouth, claiming that "Fuck you somehow taste even sweeter now." Or with his cock. He also loved trying new position that made you more comfortable, as you hated being on your back the bigger your belly got.

Once it was time for her to be born, Billy was freaking out on the inside but kept calm for you. He even insisted on being in the delivery room with you. It surprised you.

After the excruciating pain you went through, which was definitely worth it, you held your baby in your arms. A beautiful little girl, which Stu had said, looked like a wrinkly little piglet, as he came to visit. Billy had almost ripped his head off. Now after having fed her for the first time, with Billy watching you two like a hawk, she slept peacefully in your arms. You couldn't stop looking at her. She was the cutest thing you have ever seen. Billy had squeezed himself into the hospital bed with you, looking at his daughter.

"So when are we making the next one?" Billy couldn't even blink before you jabbed him with your elbow, hard. He let out a grunt but laughed anyway. He knows that as soon the doctor has cleared you for being able to have sex he would have you on your back in seconds. Especially knowing what cute babies you two make.

#billy loomis x you #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #billy loomis #billy loomis imagine #scream #scream 1996 #ghostface #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #bea's writing

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pin-k-ink · 23 days

Text

transparent // dazai osamu

tw ⇢ sexual tension, teasing, groping, mention of a casual relationship, grinding, semi public sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex, blowjob, face-fucking

wc ⇢ 8.1k

The ambient bustle of the Armed Detective Agency's bullpen faded into white noise the second Dazai sauntered through the door that morning. As usual, every molecule of oxygen in the room seemed to realign around his presence - an inescapable gravitational pull you'd learned to resist through sheer stubborn will.

"Well, well..." That dangerous rasp curled upwards to greet your ears like a physical caress. "If it isn't my favorite co-worker looking bright-eyed and dangerously gorgeous as ever."

You refused to rise to the blatant bait, keeping your attention firmly affixed on the paperwork before you. Out of your periphery, you tracked Dazai's leonine prowl as he drew nearer, moving with that unnervingly predatory grace.

"No 'good morning' for me today?" he purred once near enough for you to smell the sandalwood tang of his soap. "And after I took such care with my appearance in hopes of stealing a smile."

That got you to cut him a sidelong glance - the tousled artistry of his chestnut locks, the elegant sprawl of his limbs as Dazai braced himself against the edge of your desk. One dark brow winged upwards leadingly, beckoning for you to drink in each carved angle and sinuous line.

You simply hummed a vague, noncommittal noise before refocusing elsewhere. This game between you two was too well-trodden to merit much reaction anymore. Dazai practically vibrated with sensual presence hoping to rattle you, to compel even the barest response. But you'd learned to ignore those silken ploys through sheer repetition and stubbornness.

"Oh, so we're going to be difficult today, are we?" The insinuation curled rich and buttery against the sensitive whorls of your ears. "You know how I adore a spirited challenge, gorgeous."

The subtle lean of Dazai's torso brought the smoky, masculine blend of his cologne into your atmosphere in dizzying concentration. You couldn't quite smother the infinitesimal stall of your lungs as that potent scent catalyzed unwanted responsiveness low in your belly.

Dazai didn't miss the reactive flutter of your lashes either. A low rumble vibrated up from the broad column of his throat as he straightened again, relieving the intimate invasion temporarily.

"We're early yet, I suppose," he mused, tone dripping arch self-assurance once more. "But not to worry. I plan on coaxing plenty of delightful sounds from those pretty lips before the day's through, my dear."

Allowing your eyes to slit open revealed Dazai leaning in once more, close enough for you to feel the whisper-soft phantoms of breath ghosting across your cheek like sin made solid. Close enough to drown in those heavy-lidded russet pools glittering with blatant promise and challenge.

"I do so look forward to seeing what other...responsive tells I can tease out of you next." The words all but vibrated against your own parted lips, laced with a blistering edge of confidence. "This game's only just begun..."

With that deliberately provocative murmur, Dazai swept away towards his own workspace with that distractingly predatory grace. Leaving you struggling to recover your equilibrium as heated tendrils of awareness sparked low in your abdomen despite your best efforts.

As much as you tried to bury yourself in menial busywork over the ensuing hours, you couldn't quite shake off the thrall of Dazai's electrifying presence. Of the effortless male potency that seemed to radiate from his very pores and cloud the air into near-solidity whenever you were in proximity.

He always seemed to find reasons to invade your orbit, crowding into your space under the flimsiest of pretenses. Dazai would stretch languidly, allowing that leanly muscled torso and the shadowed vee of his collar to present itself for shameless perusal.

Or he'd sprawl against the edge of your desk, one lean thigh brushing yours in seeming accident as those heavy-lidded eyes bored into you with simmering heat. Forcing you to confront the sensual geometry of his features up close and at dangerously point-blank range.

The air between you and Dazai seemed to grow heavier and more charged with each passing interaction. An undeniable, nearly tangible tension that thickened the atmosphere into an insulating haze of pure distillation.

Like the time you'd been bent over one of the file cabinets, digging through the lower drawers for an elusive case report. The whisper-soft pad of Dazai's measured footfalls was your only warning before the solid wall of his chest pressed flush against the curved line of your spine.

You jolted upright, ready to berate him for the inappropriate proximity. But Dazai simply hummed a low, distinctly satisfied rumble as you found yourself effectively pinned between the unforgiving metal and his firm masculine heat.

"There now, no need to panic," that treacherously rich timbre rasped against the nape of your neck. "I'm simply...appreciating the view up close for a change."

You could practically feel the smoldering weight of Dazai's hooded regard skating down the length of your trapped form in unhurried debauch. The subtle flex of his abdomen with each humid exhale pressed your lower backs even more snugly together.

Despite willing every nerve to remain impassive, your traitor body responded to the overwhelming physicality of being encased in Dazai's orbit like this. You swallowed hard, acutely aware of the thunderous trip-hammer of your pulse visible at the hollow of your throat.

Dazai's answering hum vibrated straight through to your very marrow, this one edged with dark sin and a hint of smoke. Then he shifted fractionally, allowing the insistent ridge of his cock to grind against the swell of your ass in blatant taunt.

"It's a perspective I really must take advantage of more often," he practically purred against your nape. "Don't you agree, beautiful?"

You opened your mouth, determined to unleash a scathing rebuke for his flagrant impropriety. But Dazai simply chuckled again - rich and indolent - before that scorching brand of his torso finally disengaged. Leaving you to sag weakly against the drawer front, ears ringing with fractures of your own wildly skittering pulse and Dazai's husky endearments.

Another time, you'd been rifling through the copy machine's depleted supply tray in search of a new ream of paper to reload. So absorbed in your simple task that you didn't register the weighted silence signaling Dazai's intrusion until he moved to loom at your back once more.

"Need a hand there, gorgeous?" The words dripped molten sin directly into your ear. "Seems awfully inconvenient having to crouch down like that in that tight little skirt of yours..."

Cheeks going instantly incendiary, you snapped ramrod straight only to find Dazai's smoldering regard searing directly down the generous vee of your blouse from over one shoulder. A deliciously wicked slant curved those lush lips as he drank in every flustered micro-expression flickering across your features.

"Although..." he mused, rich and resonant. "I can't say I mind the view from this angle."

Dazai leaned in slightly on the emphasis, allowing the solid wall of his torso to brush against the curve of your backside. Just a fleeting whisper of contact, but it seared like a brand all the same - sparking riotous consciousness of every place your bodies didn't quite touch.

You struggled to rally a retort, to summon some semblance of the withering composure you desperately clung to amid these escalating provocations. But Dazai simply slanted you with another heated sweep of that darkly weighted stare, effectively robbing you of both breath and cutting words.

"Then again, we'd hate for you to...overexert yourself in such discomfort, now wouldn't we?" The words dripped like poisoned ambrosia from between those sensuous lips you'd been trying not to fixate upon.

Before you could formulate a response, Dazai's hands settled in decisive arcs around your waist - pulling you snugly back against the rigid wall of his chest. Not ungently, but with enough deliberate physicality to send a tremulous frisson ricocheting through your nerves like skipped stones across a glassy mere.

"Allow me..." he rumbled, voice dropping to an even more dangerously resonant timbre that catalyzed your pulse into a thunderous gallop.

Dazai's answering chuckle against your nape made it clear he could sense every reactive shiver rippling through you. Yet he made no move to extract himself or relieve the overwhelming potency of being encased in the scorching orbit of his body like this. The silence grew thicker and more electrically charged by the second...

The tension almost became a living, breathing force unto itself - thickening the atmosphere around you and Dazai into a heavy, charged miasma. Every interaction seemed to crackle with unspoken provocation and heated undercurrents begging to finally breach the surface.

Like the time you were working late reviewing security footage from a stakeout, so absorbed in studying the grainy images that you didn't notice Dazai's approach until he materialized directly behind you. The solid bulk of his chest pressed flush against your back as those long arms bracketed the desk on either side, effectively trapping you in the scorching vise of his body.

"There you are, gorgeous," the silken timbre vibrated against your nape, raising delicious little contrails along your sensitized nerves. "Getting some overtime in, I see..."

You opened your mouth to issue a reprimand, but all that emerged was a strangled little noise as Dazai allowed more of his weight to settle against you from behind. The hard ridges and hollows of his frame etched themselves into the soft give of your body with delirious, molten precision.

"Now, now...no need for such an...enthusiastic welcome," he crooned, each consonant seeming to score tingling paths across your thundering pulse.

Dazai shifted infinitesimally, rolling his hips in a slow, suggestive grind that had you stifling a tremulous whimper against your will. You could feel the smile curving against the sensitive span of your nape as he luxuriated in your body's involuntary reactions.

"Although I must admit, I do love how...responsive you are to me, beautiful." The words emerged thickened by sin as one large palm skimmed up your ribcage and splayed with obvious possession between your breasts. "Makes a man wonder what other delicious little noises he could coax out with some...dedicated effort."

Despite your best attempts at impassivity, you couldn't quite restrain the full-bodied shudder that rippled through you at the lascivious implication. Dazai's hips rolled again - a pointed, insistent grind punctuating his velvety murmur as he leaned until you could practically taste the sandalwood tang of his skin.

"What do you say, gorgeous? Why don't we find out together..."

Another time, you'd leaned over to plug in your laptop charger that had come loose from the outlet, dress riding up to expose an indecent swath of thigh and backside. So focused on your search that you didn't register the telltale quiet until Dazai's heated rumble caressed your senses from somewhere directly behind.

"Well...hello there." The gruff rasp contained undisguised sin as you whipped around to find him looming at your back - chest only scant inches from brushing your own. "Now isn't this just a delicious view to stumble across?"

You couldn't even summon an ounce of outrage, too immediately arrested by the unapologetic heat blazing in Dazai's midnight regard. The way it seemed to physically scorch across your exposed skin, raising delirious inflamed prickles.

Dazai allowed his stare to streak down the length of you in one unhurried, carnal sweep. When his russet gaze finally battled back up to lock with yours at eye-level, you felt like every molecule had been methodically undressed for perusal despite remaining clothed.

"You know..." He rasped at last, pitching his timbre around the words like a physical caress. "For someone who so adamantly claims they're not trying to tempt certain...responses...you certainly have an interesting way of presenting yourself, beautiful."

On the emphasis of that last word, Dazai allowed his upper body to roll forwards in one languid swell - forcing your spines into heated alignment as he crowded you snugly back against the desk. You couldn't stifle the sharp inhalation as sinuous muscle and blistering male heat surrounded you in a searing brand.

The low, humming growl Dazai released seemed to reverberate straight through to your very marrow. You shuddered despite yourself as his broad palms mapped the flare of your hips in a scorching, proprietary glide that stopped just short of indecent territory before retreating slowly.

"Well then, I certainly can't fault your...presentation," he husked, the words ghosting across your thundering pulse point. "Although you're making it dreadfully difficult for a gentleman to retain his composure around such blatant temptation..."

The thick, luxurious weight of the tension binding you and Dazai together grew heavier and more insistent with each passing encounter. until it felt like a living, breathing force of nature unto itself. An elemental power that threatened to finally shatter whatever fragile truces still existed between you.

Like when you reached above your head to reshelve some files, causing your blouse to ride up and expose a tantalizing strip of toned abdomen. You didn't hear Dazai's silent approach over the whisper-shush of papers until the solid wall of his torso pressed flush against your lower back.

His palms settled with scorching possession around your waist, fingers splaying to maximize contact as Dazai effectively pinned you between the searing brand of his body and the shelving. A rumbling purr of approval reverberated straight through you as he allowed his hips to grind in one molten, indolent roll.

"Well, well..." The words dripped molten sin against the nape of your neck, raising delicious frissons. "What an absolutely tantalizing surprise to stumble across..."

You couldn't quite restrain the tremulous whimper that slipped free at the insistent outline of his dick nestling against the cleft of your backside. Dazai answered with a darker, smoke-edged growl of blatant male satisfaction deep in his chest - the sound catalyzing a betraying spire of heat in your core.

"So responsive," he rasped in carnal delight. "I'd wondered just how far I'd have to push before coaxing those pretty little sounds out of you again, beautiful."

One calloused palm stroked up the vulnerable inward curve of your waist in a lingering caress. Then Dazai splayed those sinful fingertips across your abdomen, the brand of his touch raising molten wildfires in its wake as it slowly wandered higher.

"Although now that I've heard them..." His teeth grazed the thundering thrum of your pulse in a searing graze. "I seem to find myself utterly incapable of resisting the urge to hear them again. And again..."

He punctuated the delirious promise by flexing his hips with pointed emphasis, forcing your lower back to arch in order to maintain that scorching point of contact. You heard yourself keen softly in a plaintive, needy rasp that only seemed to stoke the banked wildfire in Dazai's smoldering stare to searing new heights.

"There it is..." The timbre emerged nearly unraveled into gravel now as he sealed you flush once more. "Sweeter than any symphony, wouldn't you agree, gorgeous?"

Another time, one of Dazai's hands settled low on your hip as he leaned around you to reach for a file you were reviewing. Instead of extracting himself afterwards, he allowed the solid brand of his torso to remain locked against you from behind as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Even with you facing the wall, you felt the scorching weight of his hooded stare caressing the exposed nape of your neck. Each measured exhalation feathered across those sensitized nerves in delirious, searing contrails guaranteed to raise prickles across your skin.

"You're awfully tense, beautiful," Dazai rasped at last with that rich, dripping insinuation. "And after the long day you've endured, so focused...so disciplined..."

His free hand settled at the dip of your lower spine, callused fingertips trailing up in a lingering glide that catalyzed your pulse into a molten gallop. You couldn't quite suppress the tremulous shiver despite willing every molecule to remain composed and unaffected by the branding possession of his touch.

"Don't fret," he murmured, chin dipping to graze the fragile whorl of your ear as his palm continued meandering ever higher. "I'll be sure to take...such exquisite care in relieving that tension for you."

One broad splay spanned the expanse between your shoulder blades, allowing the solid brand of his forearm to pin you flush as Dazai's hips rolled in a suggestive grind. You couldn't quite muffle the choked whimper that slipped free despite your best restraint, scalp tingling beneath the rasp of his answering chuckle vibrating against your nape.

"There now...isn't that better already?"

After weeks of the escalating tension and suggestive encounters between you and Dazai, he finally decided to change tactics. One afternoon, after another heated brush of intimate proximity had left you both simmering, Dazai caught your arm gently as you tried to make your escape.

"Enough games between us, don't you think?" His tone was low but serious, none of the usual honeyed taunts coloring the words. "We both know this delicious dance can't go on indefinitely before one of us combusts entirely."

You opened your mouth, not sure if you intended to feign ignorance or finally give voice to the crackling awareness stretching between you. But Dazai merely shook his head, holding up a hand to forestall you.

"Don't bother denying the heat, beautiful. We're both too far down this road to keep playing coy." His gaze bored into yours with surprising intensity. "Which is why I have a proposal for you - a way for us both to finally scratch this undeniable itch that's been driving us slowly mad."

Interest and trepidation warred within you as you regarded Dazai steadily. He seemed to read the conflict because one side of his mouth kicked up in a slanted smile, but not the usual teasing curl. This one was weighted with quiet promise.

"Hear me out," was all he said, letting the susurrant words hang pregnant between you. "I'm prepared to make you an offer, gorgeous...one that will allow us both to have what we've been craving with no more teasing or games involved. If you're amenable, that is."

For once, you found yourself speechless under the solemn intensity of Dazai's regard. He was clearly offering a way to finally resolve the explosive tensions building between you, laid bare with none of the usual dazzling deflections. The decision rested entirely with you now.

After a pregnant pause where you searched his expression, you gave a measured nod. "I'm listening..."

Dazai's gaze remained steady and unflinching as you indicated your willingness to hear him out. For a protracted beat, the weighted silence stretched taut between you - alive with the same sparking undercurrents that had been slowly reaching a simmer over the past several weeks.

"What I'm about to propose may sound a bit...unconventional," he began at last, rich timbre stripped of any extraneous inflection. "But I think we're both finally ready to acknowledge that there's something undeniably potent between us. A craving that's only going to keep escalating until it finally explodes in spectacular fashion."

You felt your breath hitch despite willing your lungs to remain steady. Dazai's manner was severe now - bereft of any lurid suggestions or honeyed come-ons. This side of him felt almost dangerous in its solemn intensity, drawing you in like a cobra's mesmeric dance.

"The way I see it," he continued after a charged pause, "we have two choices before us. We can keep playing these delirious games, circling one another until the inevitable conflagration consumes us both in riotous ruin..."

Dazai allowed his smoldering stare to streak down the feminine lines of your body in one ponderous sweep before returning to lock with yours. The sheer corporeal weight of his appraisal raised exquisite tendrils of heat despite yourself.

"Or we could...indulge ourselves a bit. Satisfy this relentless craving in a controlled manner before it spirals entirely out of hand."

The meaning behind his quietly purred suggestion catalyzed a wildfire of its own inside your veins. You couldn't quite mask the reactive shiver that rippled through you, though Dazai didn't seem to fault you for it. He simply tipped his head a fraction, maintaining that weighted connection between your locked stares as he allowed the implication to sink in.

"Just a temporary arrangement between colleagues, you understand," he clarified after a protracted beat. "No strings, no pesky romantic entanglements to complicate matters further. Just two consenting adults sating this rapacious hunger that's becoming so painfully... insistent."

Each husked word felt like searing little brands scoring across your nerves - stoking the already molten kiln banked low in your abdomen. Despite the clinical way Dazai couched his proposition, the subtle langue of his body seemed to bleed with darker promise as he shifted fractionally closer into your space.

"Think about it, beautiful," he rumbled, pitching the entreaty to detonate against the sensitive whorls of your ears. "All of this delicious tension finally allowed to unspool in unbridled release. No more restraints, no more teasing folly - just the sweet rapture of indulgence you crave as badly as I..."

The deliberate roll of Dazai's formidable torso brought his intoxicating musk crashing over you in dizzying waves. You swayed automatically towards the epicenter of that sensual gravitational pull despite your better instincts. Close enough to feel the branded caress of each measured exhale fanning across your thundering pulse.

Close enough to be utterly transfixed by the smoldering mural unraveled in smoked whiskey and molten onyx as Dazai searched your expression for rejection - or acquiescence.

"So tell me," he rasped at last, voice descending into a ruinous timbre that resonated straight through to the hollows of your marrow. "Do we finally break this sweet torture between us, gorgeous? Or keep stoking the embers until we incinerate ourselves entirely?"

The razor-edged promise hung in the electrified space twinned heartbeats seemed to suspend entirely. Dazai simply held you transfixed with that pointed, infinite stare - allowing his words to fully permeate your awareness and render you weightless in their wake.

For once, you realized with dawning inevitability...you didn't actually have an objection to voice.

You held Dazai's piercing gaze, feeling the weight of his proposition settle over you like a heavy mantle. The suggestion of a casual, no-strings arrangement between you hung thick in the air, heavy with unspoken caveats.

Deep down, you knew there was no way to keep things impersonal or detached if you went down that path with Dazai. The sheer smoldering intensity between you, the steadily simmering hunger you saw reflected in his russet stare...it carried an inexorable gravity that would consume you both entirely if unleashed.

For a suspended breath, Dazai simply watched you digest the implications in silence, mahogany eyes glittering like polished obsidian. Then you saw a muscle feather almost imperceptibly along the stark line of his jaw as you failed to immediately agree.

"Or perhaps..." His rumbling timbre emerged roughened by sin and smoke. "A more... permanent arrangement might be in order between us after all, hmm?"

Your indrawn breath felt approximately as loud as a sonic boom in the weighted quiet. Dazai didn't so much as blink, maintaining his leonine scrutiny as you tried to process that molten undercurrent suddenly shifting between you.

The very air itself seemed to thicken and constrict around you both, alive with the sparking frissures of unraveling tension. Whatever this was rapidly metastasizing into felt too profound, too utterly cataclysmic to be sated through mere indulgence any longer.

As if intuiting the trajectory of your thoughts, Dazai's full lips curved into a slanting, almost feral approximation of a smile that sent delirious tendrils of heat barreling outwards.

"Yes... I can see it in your eyes now, beautiful." He veritably purred the words into the electrically charged space twinned heartbeats seemed to suspend into breath-held entropy. "This is quickly evolving into something more insistent. More..."

Blazing overhead lights turned his irises into molten eclipses as Dazai allowed his hooded stare to openly devour you once more. Mapping every micro-shiver and telling flutter as his body seemed to radiate waves of tactile seduction without closing the scant distance between you.

"Insatiable," he concluded at last, the tone pitched to detonate with exquisite precision against every nerve in wanton detonation. "Something that won't be so easily slaked through fleeting capitulation between us, hmm?"

The weighted assessment hung in the electrified tension like the string of a bow drawn taut to near snapping. You couldn't even formulate a reply, too transfixed by the banked inferno steadily spiraling into unchecked wildfire behind Dazai's uncompromising mien.

Then his jaw flexed almost imperceptibly before he allowed an exhale to shudder free in humid duress. "Very well then..."

Before you could even process the words, Dazai surged forwards into the scant inches separating your bodies with leonine grace. The sudden, shockingly intimate collision of his larger frame with yours obliterated whatever feeble scraps of space still remained, searing a brand of delirious heat down every straining nerve ending.

His fingertips seared like molten possession bracketing the soft knolls of your hips as he pressed the irrefutable ridge of his arousal against the cradle of your lowermost curves in a slow, purposeful grind. A starburst of whited-out rapture detonated behind your ribcage at the unapologetic insistence of the motion.

"If total... profane consumption is what you require," Dazai husked against the overheated thrum of your pulse, "then that's precisely what you'll receive from me, beautiful. No half-measures, no restraints..."

The deliberate sweep of his nose nudged yours fractionally to one side, catalyzing twin gasps that mingled with heady potency in the scant space separating your dually parted lips. Searing molten onyx held you hypnotized and weightless, transfixed beneath the intensity of Dazai's smolder as he sealed the vow in that final, scorching murmur.

"I'll simply have to raze you down to your very atoms...and rebuild you entirely anew as mine."

The finality underlying Dazai's vow catalyzed your surrender like a stone finally yielding to gravity's inexorable pull. You couldn't resist the delirious whirlwind of sensation as he closed the last few inches - mouth crashing against yours in a searing, possessive brand.

Dazai kissed you like a man hungered, all simmering restraint finally shattered into dust beneath the onslaught. His tongue swept between your lips in blatant possession, igniting every receptor into feverish communion as you arched helplessly into the scorching demands of his larger frame.

One broad palm anchored your nape, angling your parted mouth to deepen the onslaught as Dazai's other arm banded around your waist. Lashing you flush against the exquisitely hewn planes of his torso in a searing, rapturous grind that stole any last lingering objection you might have harbored.

His growl of dark triumph rumbled straight through your bones as you melted completely beneath that sensual siege - thoughts unraveling into rapturous ash as you finally surrendered to the devouring provocation of Dazai's kiss. Allowing yourself to be plundered with ravenous, openmouthed sweeps that curled your very toes and liquified your bones.

When he finally wrenched his mouth from yours in clear defiance of needing oxygen, you swayed numbly in the aftershocks. Ambient reality felt scorched away by the elemental entropy now rapidly consuming you both in its path. The only remaining anchor was Dazai's half-lidded stare - a molten supernova holding yours effortlessly transfixed as your chests heaved in unison.

"There now..." His graveled growl whispered across your swollen lips, arms still banded in inescapable possession. "Doesn't giving in feel so much better than fighting me at last?"

You could only manage a tremulous, soundless nod - still too thoroughly undone to rally any response beyond instinctively arching for more searing contact. Dazai made a pleased rumble deep in his chest, holding you pinned against the rigid contours of his body by sheer corporeal dominance.

Then his mouth crashed down again in another possessive onslaught, tongue stroking between your lips in blatant avowal of control. He walked you backwards with a series of inescapable grinding steps until your back met the solid resistance of a nearby wall. Caging you there in the vise of his larger frame as his mouth plundered deeper.

You clutched at any available anchor, fingers snarling through the crisp strands at his nape in a desperate bid to ground yourself amid the delirious whirlwind. But there could be no bracing against Dazai's onslaught, only utter surrender to the maelstrom.

He growled visceral approval at your mindless responsiveness, hips angling to bracket yours in scorching emphasis as one broad palm mapped down your body.

A strangled moan spilled from your lips at the molten drag of his hand across your waist, down the flare of your hips, around to splay against the exposed vee of your inner thigh.

"Look at me," he husked, waiting until your hazy eyes dragged up to his. Then Dazai rolled his hips in a slow, sinuous grind - making sure you could feel the rigid line of his arousal through the confines of his slacks.

"See how utterly wrecked you've left me, gorgeous?" The words vibrated against the fragile whorls of your ear, raising delicious goosebumps. "That's how I've felt since the moment you first walked in here. And now, finally..."

His voice trailed off, allowing the scorching implication to speak for itself as Dazai flexed his hips in another pointed, searing roll. Your eyes practically rolled back in your skull as the pressure ignited a wildfire of need, a molten cascade of sensation that pooled low in your abdomen with alarming speed.

"But I'm not the only one, hmm?"

Those dexterous fingers inched higher along your inner thigh, skating up the tingling span to hover just shy of where you desperately ached for him. You shuddered, unable to contain the tremulous little gasp that spilled free as your hips automatically canted towards the delicious torment.

"You're equally ruined, aren't you, beautiful?" Dazai's words seared directly into the tender shell of your ear, setting each delicate nerve alight. "I can see it in those gorgeous eyes. The way you melt into me like a kitten seeking affection, aching for my touch..."

You moaned deliriously as he allowed his fingers to skate the sensitive hollow just above your hip, dipping beneath the hem of your blouse. Each stroke raised exquisite frissons along your spine as you strained for more.

"Don't fret, sweet girl..." Dazai murmured, voice dipping even lower as his fingers continued mapping higher. "I'll make sure we both get exactly what we crave. What we've needed since that first meeting in my office..."

When his fingers finally delved between your thighs, parting the fabric to tease along the wet cleft within, your head fell back in utter surrender. Eyes slipping closed at the overwhelming surge of pleasure that rocketed through you, searing every receptor into ecstatic communion.

"Yes," he rumbled darkly against the vulnerable slope of your neck, mouth trailing a series of scalding little bites in his wake. "I'm going to make sure we both unravel and find exquisite ruin together, sweet girl. But first..."

Those long, elegant fingers finally found their target, sliding against the slick center of your desire. You cried out, spine arching as Dazai's thumb stroked a deliberate path across your throbbing clit.

"I think it's only fair to return the favor, don't you?"

Then he sank two fingers into your welcoming core, the stretch forcing a sharp keening sound from your throat. Dazai released a rough purr of approval at your reaction, laving the stinging bites with the soothing flat of his tongue as he slowly pumped the digits.

"That's it, beautiful," he crooned against your thundering pulse. "Give me everything. Let me hear how utterly wrecked you are already."

Each thrust stoked the embers blazing into wildfire inside you, turning your muscles into liquid flame as the molten rhythm built. Dazai's mouth crashed against yours in another searing kiss as the fingers curling deep inside you stroked incessantly.

You surrendered completely beneath his relentless siege, the only thing holding you upright being his solid frame bracketed against yours. Each thrust stoked the molten flames higher, driving your senses into a delirium until the world narrowed down to the incendiary rhythm between you and Dazai.

A keening wail erupted from your lungs as the pleasure coalesced, cresting and exploding behind your ribcage in a devastating implosion. Dazai's answering groan felt like the sweetest reward as he drank in every tremulous sound and reaction.

As the tremors slowly receded, you became dimly aware of his lips grazing the crown of your head as he carefully withdrew his fingers. Your thighs trembled in the wake of that intense climax, but Dazai merely gathered you against his larger frame.

"That's it, gorgeous," he rasped against the shell of your ear, the timbre thick with lust. "You've been so good, letting me take you apart completely. So good for me, my sweet girl."

The praise made you whimper softly, a shiver rippling through your limbs as the last lingering sparks of rapture finally dissipated. When you managed to crack your eyes open again, Dazai's expression arrested you instantly.

His pupils were blown wide, nearly overtaking the irises entirely. Those full lips were reddened and slightly swollen, the lower still gleaming wet from his ravaging kisses. Dazai's chest was heaving as if he'd run a marathon, but his hold remained steady as he continued murmuring quiet praise into the crown of your head.

"There you are, sweet girl," he rumbled, a crooked little grin twitching across his features. "Still with me?"

Your head managed a feeble little nod, earning an amused chuckle. Then Dazai tipped your chin up until his searing gaze bore into yours with palpable intent.

"Good, because we're far from finished," he warned, the graveled timbre resonating through your bones. "I've wanted you for too damn long to be satisfied with a single taste, sweet girl. Once is going to be nowhere near enough."

You shivered at the unabashed promise, though couldn't quite muster a rebuttal. Not when the molten embers inside you were already roaring back to life beneath the searing heat of Dazai's stare.

"Now, where shall we begin?"

He pondered aloud, tilting his head to one side as he surveyed the options. His free hand wandered lower, tracing idle patterns along the slope of your spine as Dazai considered his options. You could practically hear the gears in his head whirring.

Then his gaze sharpened, honing in on something before a wicked grin split his features. You opened your mouth to inquire, but the words dissolved into a sharp gasp as Dazai seized a handful of your ass and squeezed hard.

"I've had plenty of time to fantasize about this pretty little rear, you know," he murmured against the sensitive whorl of your ear, eliciting shivers. "So many nights wondering just how good you'd look bent over my desk, ass presented and waiting for me..."

Another squeeze, harder this time as he pulled you tighter against the ridge of his erection. Dazai rolled his hips languidly, eliciting a whimper at the delicious friction.

"And the best part?" His voice dropped to a smoke-edged rasp, the timbre reverberating straight through you. "Now I finally get to find out."

Dazai didn't give you time to formulate a reply before he turned, steering you through the maze of desks with a firm hand on the small of your back. He paused once you reached the large executive desk, turning to survey the scene with obvious approval.

"Right here, sweet girl," he purred, fingers drifting down to unzip your skirt and allow it to puddle at your feet. "This will do nicely, don't you think?"

You managed a tremulous little nod, unable to resist leaning into his touch as Dazai guided you towards the edge of the desk. Your hands settled atop the cool surface for balance, and he gave a soft hum of approval at the sight.

"Such a good girl, aren't you?" He praised, calloused fingertips stroking the sensitive flesh along the backs of your thighs. "So eager to please. And you've been doing such a splendid job so far, my sweet."

A tremulous little mewl slipped free at the gentle strokes. You shifted restlessly, arching for more.

Dazai released a rumbling purr, the sound thick with satisfaction as his palm curved around the flair of your backside. The other hand reached for the waistband of his slacks, easing the zipper down as his thumb stroked along the line of your thong.

"I can't wait to get my cock inside you," he rasped, the filthy words causing a shiver. "To feel this perfect little cunt wrapped around me. So tight, so wet...and all for me, gorgeous."

His palm cupped one cheek, kneading gently as Dazai rocked his hips forwards. The ridge of his erection dragged across your slit, parting the fabric with its insistent press. Your mouth fell open in a soft whine at the delicious friction.

"I bet I can even make you scream," he husked against the nape of your neck, rolling his hips again. "Make you fall apart all over my cock as I fuck you right here, bent over this desk."

His palm cracked against the supple flesh, the sound reverberating through the air and causing a sharp cry. A second stinging smack followed, then another. Dazai's mouth roved against your shoulder blades as his hand kept punishing the swell of your backside.

"Just the thought of that has me rock-hard already," he growled, punctuating the vow by grinding his hips forwards once more. "Imagining you all desperate and dripping wet for me, aching for release."

The words alone were almost enough to tip you over the edge. Then the hand palming your backside slipped between your thighs, teasing the fabric covering your soaked slit. You gasped, canting your hips instinctively for more.

"Mm, just like that," Dazai murmured against the nape of your neck. "My sweet girl wants to be fucked, doesn't she? She's so eager, so responsive..."

One finger hooked beneath the fabric, tugging it aside. You could feel the blunt press of his erection nudging between your thighs, so close to finally entering you. The anticipation ratcheted even higher, a delicious tension.

"I've waited far too long to finally claim you, gorgeous," Dazai husked, voice thick with lust. "And I fully intend to take my time with you, sweet girl. But right now..."

One broad palm splayed across the expanse of your lower back, pressing your torso flush against the polished desktop. Your legs were spread wide, and you were held pinned in place by Dazai's weight bearing down behind you.

"Right now," he repeated, the words resonating with finality as his hand wrapped around your waist, fingers curling into the wet fabric of your panties. "I'm going to fuck you the way we both desperately need. Hard and fast, until I've completely ruined you for any other man. Is that understood?"

You managed a frantic little nod, eyes clenched tightly closed as you waited. Every nerve felt alight with anticipation, breath held in suspension.

Then, without any warning, Dazai snapped his hips forwards in a punishing thrust. You cried out sharply, unable to muffle the keening sound at the sudden penetration. His cock drove impossibly deep, filling you so completely you could almost taste him at the back of your throat.

"There now..." He rumbled dark approval, hand stroking up your spine in a soothing gesture. "So beautifully tight around me. You take me so well, gorgeous."

His hips began to move, rocking into you in slow, torturous motions that stoked the inferno burning higher. Each stroke was exquisitely thorough, each thrust bottoming out and sending a delicious jolt up your spine.

Your hands scrambled for purchase against the smooth desktop, seeking an anchor amidst the relentless sensual onslaught. You could feel every inch of Dazai's cock pistoning inside you, could hear the filthy little grunts of pleasure each time his hips snapped forwards.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" His voice emerged in a rough growl, the timbre nearly unraveled with the force of his need. "Being so thoroughly filled, so taken apart by my cock?"

A strangled moan ripped free from your throat at the delicious pressure, and Dazai chuckled roughly in response. One hand curled around your neck, pulling your spine flush against his chest as he increased the pace.

"That's it, sweet girl. Let me hear you. Show me how well you're being fucked, how much you enjoy taking me."

Your hips rocked back to meet his, mindless in the pursuit of ecstasy. Each thrust was more powerful than the last, a relentless cadence that stole your breath and left you helplessly panting. The delicious friction stoked the inferno blazing into wildfire, obliterating all thought in its path.

"That's it, my sweet girl," Dazai husked, voice thick with desire. "Give yourself to me completely. I'll take care of you, sweet girl. I'll always take care of you, sweet girl."

Those words alone nearly tipped you over the edge, a tremulous keen ripping free from your throat as you surrendered. You arched for more, desperate for him to finish what he'd started.

Then his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you captive as Dazai pounded into you. The angle was deeper now, his cock hitting places inside you that caused stars to explode behind your eyelids. Each thrust was more powerful than the last, driving you closer and closer to the razor's edge.

"So close, sweet girl," he husked, voice nearly unrecognizable. "Come for me. Let go, my beautiful girl."

The command detonated like a sonic boom inside you, shattering the tenuous restraint and setting the world ablaze. You screamed his name, back arching as the climax crashed over you.

Dazai snarled a filthy oath as he felt the convulsions ripple through your body, his grip tightening. He kept thrusting, dragging out your orgasm until it was nearly too much to bear.

Your legs trembled, muscles liquefying as the ecstasy crested. But Dazai didn't stop. His hand remained wrapped around your throat, holding you flush against his torso as his hips snapped forwards.

"Yes," he growled, the words vibrating straight through you. "Give it to me, sweet girl. Let me feel that sweet cunt milking me dry, let me fill you up and hear you scream..."

Each word felt like a brand scorching directly into the core of you, the heat so intense it nearly seared. You could barely breathe, barely think, barely do anything beyond shudder and moan beneath the onslaught.

The climax tore through you in an inferno, obliterating any remaining scrap of rational thought in its wake. All you could do was ride the waves, drowning beneath the deluge of pleasure.

Dazai's hips snapped forward once more, hissing a guttural curse as his own release crested. You could feel the liquid warmth filling you, flooding your core and coating the inside of your thighs as his thrusts slowed.

Then, finally, his rhythm stuttered to a halt. The arm holding you steady against him loosened, allowing you to collapse against the desktop. Your muscles felt utterly spent, trembling in the aftershocks as you struggled to catch your breath.

Dazai's hand remained on the curve of your hip, anchoring you securely as he slowly withdrew. A breathless little moan slipped free at the loss, though he immediately shushed you with a kiss pressed against the nape of your neck.

"There now," he murmured, tone thick with satisfaction. "Wasn't that infinitely better than keeping our distance, my sweet girl?"

You couldn't even formulate a reply - still reeling from the intensity of that orgasm. But Dazai didn't seem to need an answer, content to hold you pinned against the edge of the desk for a moment longer.

"But now I need you to do something for me," he rumbled after a beat, the words thickening with sin and smoke. "Be a good girl and stand up for me."

You managed a weak, confused little sound as you complied. Dazai's arm was instantly around your waist, steadying you as your trembling limbs struggled to obey. Once your knees stopped shaking, he pulled you closer.

"Good girl," he praised, the words a velvety rumble against your temple. "Now stay right here for me."

Before you could question, his hands dropped to his waistband. You watched in mute fascination as Dazai tugged his slacks down, revealing his half-hard erection. It glistened with the evidence of your shared release, a bead of his spend slipping down the side.

He didn't break eye contact, holding you trapped in the molten depths of his stare. One hand curled around his shaft, giving a languid stroke as Dazai swiped a thumb across the head.

You swallowed thickly, eyes unable to look away as he used the pearled dew to slick his hand.

"Now then," he husked, expression dark with promise. "Open that pretty mouth for me, my sweet."

Your lips parted of their own accord, the motion instinctive. Dazai's smirk widened at the immediate compliance, his free hand tipping your chin upwards to hold you pinned beneath the smoldering heat of his stare.

"I need you to clean me off, sweet girl," he explained, the graveled timbre of his voice sending goosebumps rippling across your skin. "Every. Last. Drop. Understood?"

Another tremulous sound spilled free as you nodded, eagerly getting down on your knees. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with erotic intent as you awaited his next command.

"Good girl," Dazai praised, the words dripping like honey. "Now open that pretty mouth and show me just how good you are at listening to instructions."

Your jaw fell open, tongue darting out to lap against the swollen crown. His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you forward until you were able to suck the entire length of him into the velvet cradle.

"Just like that," Dazai crooned, the words emerging half-unraveled as his hips bucked forwards. "So fucking perfect. You look so beautiful like this, gorgeous."

His words were punctuated by shallow, rolling thrusts. His shaft grew impossibly hard against your tongue, thick and pulsing. You could feel him swelling, filling your mouth with his musky scent.

Dazai's eyes were blown wide, the pupils completely overtaking the irises. They burned with molten desire, the sight almost enough to tip you over the edge again.

"Now I need you to take me deep," he growled, voice roughened with lust. "Let me feel the back of that pretty throat, my sweet girl."

You could only nod, unable to do anything beyond comply. His fingers tightened in your hair, tugging gently as he angled your head where he needed. Dazai's cock filled your mouth, stretching the walls of your throat as he rocked forwards.

"Such a good girl," he crooned, the words emerging ragged and breathless. "That's it, take all of me. Such a good girl, sucking my cock like a proper little whore. Now open that pretty mouth and let me see those gorgeous eyes."

You moaned, the sound muffled by the length of his shaft. Dazai's fingers tightened in your hair, a warning.

"Good girl," he growled, the words almost feral with the force of his need. "I'm going to fill your sweet little mouth with my cum, sweet girl. Then you're going to swallow every drop. Understood?"

Another frantic nod, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. He groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest as his thrusts grew sharper. His shaft filled your mouth, pushing deeper and deeper until you could barely breathe.

"Take it," he ordered, voice rough and commanding. "Take every drop of my cum, sweet girl."

Then, without warning, Dazai's entire body went rigid. His jaw clenched, eyes closing as his head tipped back.

His hips slammed forwards, bottoming out and hitting the back of your throat. You gagged slightly at the sudden intrusion, but he held you pinned. His entire body seemed to shake, muscles corded with strain.

Then his cock throbbed, pulsing against your tongue as his seed flooded your mouth. You moaned, the sound muffled by the shaft filling you.

His eyes flew open, pinning you beneath the molten weight of his stare. You held perfectly still, allowing him to spill into your mouth until his thrusts began to slow.

"Fuck, gorgeous," he panted, hips still rolling as the last spurts trickled down your throat. "That's a good girl, taking it all for me. What a sweet little thing you are, swallowing down my cum like that."

His thumb traced the outline of your lips, the calloused pad dragging along the sensitive flesh. You shivered at the feather-light caress, unable to look away from his half-lidded stare.

"You've earned a reward," Dazai husked, his voice a velvety purr. "And I fully intend to spoil my sweet girl tonight. Shall we begin with dinner? My treat."

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