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darby-rowe · 4 months

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18+ | nsfw | mdni peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x fem!district!reader word count 1,341 cw semi public sex (in the meadow), fingering (female receiving), reach around position, praise, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, not proofreadbased on this ask.

When you first laid eyes on District 12’s newest peacekeeper, you were hopelessly head over heels for the boy with the blonde buzzcut. When you got to talking at the hob, he was vague about his past and his story on how he became a peacekeeper; something about… cheating? You weren’t too sure on what he was getting at, but with those pretty blue eyes and tall stature, vagueness didn’t cross your mind as a red flag.

And when you took him back to your home later that night, shirtless with his dog tags hanging over your face, he fucked you so hard and good you walked with a limp for the entirety of the next day.

Henceforth, meeting up with Coriolanus had become a regular thing in your schedules.

You told him to meet you in the meadow around mid-afternoon. The weather was supposed to be somewhat beautiful around that time, a brief respite from the horrendously, oppressive hot weather that had been plaguing District 12 for months. You arose from your place under the tree and smiled with joy at the sight of Coriolanus making his strides towards you, and before you knew it, you had your tongue shoved down his throat like your life depended on it.

One thing about Coriolanus was that he was borderline obsessed with your pretty little cunt and the way you got so, so wet for him without him having to do much of anything. There, on the soft ground of the meadow, he once again had you in his grasp with you sitting between his legs, back pressed against his chest, and his hand wrapped around your body playing with your pussy.

You were unbelievably wet – that was evident in the loud schlick, schlick, schlick noises that emitted from between your legs as Coriolanus pumped his two middle fingers in and out of your hole. You had to admit it was a bit embarrassing how wet you got, but all that mattered was that Coriolanus loved it. Seriously, that boy could play with your dripping juices for hours if you’d let him.

You reached an arm to hook around Coriolanus’s, panting and whimpering against the skin of his cheek as he unapologetically pleased you, relishing in the pretty little noises that escaped your lips.

“Fuck, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more into his touch. Occasionally, he would withdraw his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive nub that always made you cry out with pleasure.

Coriolanus didn’t take his eyes away from his fingers on your pussy. “Such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” he purred, gathering a generous amount of your drooling arousal to watch how it glistened on his fingers in the afternoon sun. “Your pussy is soaked, baby. Look at that,”

You whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. The way he teased you about being easy to arouse never failed to humble you. You watched as he rubbed your slick juices all over your folds in some attempt to humiliate you.

“I can’t help it,” you choke out. “You just make me so wet, Coryo,”

Coriolanus planted a few kisses on your neck as his fingers re-entered your warm cunt, continuing his ministrations that made you feel so fucking good. It was almost pathetic how close you were to already coming, and Coriolanus could feel in the way your walls contracted around his fingers.

“I’m coming,” you moaned, your hips ever so slightly lifting off the ground. “Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming!” And with a string of pleasurable cries, your first orgasm rocked your entire body as your legs trembled and your hips rocked back and forth to ride out your pleasure.

But Coriolanus didn’t stop fingering you, oh no. He kept going despite your protests, despite your sensitivity. He wanted to push you, to see how far he could take you with just his fingers.

“No, no Coryo, s-so sensitive,” you whimpered as his fingers continued their assault on your overstimulated cunt.

Coriolanus just kissed your cheek. “You’re gonna come for me again,” he murmured in your ear. “You’re gonna come all over my fingers, baby. Again, and again, and again, until I’m satisfied, and until you’re nothing but a dumb, bumbling little slut. Got it?”

And so he does. He made you come a second, third, and fourth time until the only noises you managed to make were low, incoherent groans as your pussy endured the ongoing ministrations from Coriolanus’s fingers. Each time you came, it felt as if your brain was turning more and more into mushy peas, completely succumbing to Coriolanus’s power that he held over you.

You could feel his hard erection pressing against your back through the clothing of his pants, and you knew you weren’t going to be let off easily. He still had to get himself off, and how exactly was he going to do that? With his hand? Not when he had a perfectly good pussy sitting right in front of him.

You let out a squeak of surprise as Coriolanus pushed you back onto the ground of the meadow, watching through half-lidded eyes as he quickly undid his pants to free his rock-hard, throbbing cock.

“I need to fuck you,” he panted as he teased your folds with the head of his cock. “Need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,”

Because of how wet you were, Coriolanus slid his cock inside you with zero problems, eliciting a gasp from your throat. You gripped at the grass beneath you as you gritted your teeth through Coriolanus’s punishing thrusts, looking up at him with your pretty, glistening eyes as the overstimulation threatened tears to spill down your cheeks,

“Fuck, oh fuck, s’good, so fucking big,” you cried, your eyes flicking in between Coriolanus’s face and the sight of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. “So fucking deep inside me. Can’t take it. It feels so fucking good,”

Coriolanus watched with a sick satisfaction as tiny drops of tears exited from the outer corner of your eyes. “Don’t start crying on me now, you’ll make me come,” he purred, pressing kisses on your tear-stained cheeks. “Take my cock, darling. Take it. Fuck, this pussy is so good,”

You desperately grabbed at his shirt and dog tags as Coriolanus continued to fuck you senseless into the meadow, his grunts mixing with your cries and whimpers as the birds began to sing around you. You were undeniably fucked and blissed out, and all you wanted was to have Coriolanus’s seed deep inside you.

Coriolanus tried to kiss you, but your lips were unable to coordinate to fully connect the kiss, as you continued to moan and cry at how good Coriolanus was fucking you. You were so close to your fifth orgasm, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, ready to release.

“Come inside me,” you mumbled, your voice cracking and squeaking. “Want to feel your cum,”

“That’s right, baby,” Coriolanus grunted. “Gonna fucking breed this pussy so good. Ah, fuck, gonna fill you up with my load,”

As your cunt contracted around Coriolanus’s throbbing dick with your fifth orgasm, your eyes rolled back into your head at the warm feeling of his spunk shooting deep inside your womb. You swore you could see stars floating in front of your vision, fearing that you might pass out right then and there.

You managed to remain conscious as Coriolanus pressed soft, gentle kisses on your jaw, cheek, and lips, holding your face so lovingly within his hands.

“Wish I could stay longer,” he said, looking into your eyes. “I have to get back. They’re probably wondering where I am,”

You stared up at him, panting and smiling. “It’s okay love,” you responded, gently caressing his cheek. “As long as I get to see you again,”

“Oh you know I’ll see you again, my dove,”

tagging @coryosgirl222 | don't be shy, let's talk. ♡

#im so sorry if this is mid #but i simultaneously think this is so hot LMFAO #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus now smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #darbyrowe.doc #asks open #ask me anything

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cherryflavoured7777 · 6 months

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It Might As Well Be Worth It For Once [h.c]

Summary: After a photo of you kissing your crush, Hazel Callahan, goes viral among students at your university, you try to navigate the backlash you receive on top of your newfound feelings for her.

Pairing: College!Hazel Callahan x College!fem!reader

Contains: reader sort of figuring out her sexuality, homophobia, explicit language, d slur, slut shaming, drinking, partying, violence, no explicit smut just heavy make-outs, scary ex-boyfriends, evil frat bros

word count: 3k

A/N: This is loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Slut!" so listen if you want to set the mood!

Your first kiss with Hazel Callahan happened at a party, initiated by a simple dare. In the middle of a crowded kitchen, surrounded by sticky solo cups and cigarette smoke, you watched Hazel as she spoke. “Dare.” She stated to her brown-haired friend.

“Okay,” PJ starts and her eyes dart around the room,

“I dare you…” PJ’s eyes find you and she points her finger at your frame “to kiss her.”

“Real original, PJ,” Hazel remarks as she makes her way over to you.

At first, you didn't give it much thought, dismissing it as just a harmless dare amidst the alcohol-fueled chaos of the party. But as you followed through and Hazel's lips met yours, something in you shifted, and every sensation suddenly heightened. The taste of tequila on her tongue mixed with the smell of her sharp cologne made your head dizzy.

The kiss, though quick, left a new feeling that you couldn't forget. You were amazed at how in sync your movements were with each other, considering you barely knew Hazel. You’d seen her a couple of times in class, walking around campus in her stylish outfits, and at parties like these. She was friends with your roommate, Isabel, so she did run in the same social circle as you.

When Hazel eventually pulled away from the kiss, the absence of her touch left you wanting more. You leaned forward, instinctively chasing her lips. Embarrassment washed over you, reality kicking in, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of yourself. With the re-realization that it was just a game you were playing, you buried the feelings deep within your stomach, locking them away and deciding they should never be explored.

You found Hazel a few weeks later, outside one of the dorm buildings, returning home from another late night. That night, a couple of drinks deep, you summoned the courage to confess what had been consuming your thoughts. Her soft brown hair, her big blue eyes, her attractive scent, and how soft her lips were on yours.

Something felt different about your infatuation with Hazel, and you were dying to just be close to her again.

"I don’t know what it is about you, Hazel," you say, your back leaning against the side of the bricked building. "I’m never like this with anyone," you whisper, avoiding eye contact.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about our kiss, and I know that's ridiculous because it was just a stupid dare at a party." Hazel sensed your vulnerability in that moment. She took a step toward you and reached for your hand, gently playing with your fingers, which hung between both of you. As you rambled on, she stared and smiled at you, enjoying your attempt to express your feelings.

"Yeah?" She nodded at you, leaning in a bit closer with a cocky grin. "You liked it that much, huh?"

You avoided her gaze again, clearly growing more embarrassed.

"Well, I was never going to tell you this,” she sucked in a breath “But before the game started, I actually told PJ to dare me to kiss you. It was the only way I thought I was ever going to be able to." Her hand moved from your hand to your waist, squeezing gently, and her eyes landed on your lips. Her confession hung heavy in the air between you both.

Feeling a rush of boldness, you couldn't hold back any longer. You grabbed her by her shirt, slowly pulling her closer, and in a moment of sheer impulsiveness, you pressed your lips firmly against hers.

Your kiss deepened, the pressure between your lips gradually intensifying, the sensation giving you goosebumps. Hazel's lips were plush and inviting, just like you remembered. Her lips left yours for a moment before attaching themselves to your jaw, then your neck, sucking gently.

“Shit, Hazel.” You sighed and your back arched against the wall, already breathless.

Her hand on your waist pulled you closer, the touch gentle yet possessive. Your fingers instinctively wound into her hair, the strands soft and silky beneath your touch.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this since that night,” She says between kisses to your neck. “Want you so bad,” she whines.

Her lips found yours again, the kiss hot and passionate, fueled by the emotions that had been building between you. There was an urgency to the way your lips moved together, and you felt a soft sigh escape Hazel's lips. Your bodies pressed against each other, every inch of skin on fire from the contact.

What you didn’t notice was your ex-boyfriend's roommate, Tyler, emerged out of the dorm building's entrance. He recognized you after a minute and stared at the scene in front of him in complete shock, jaw slack. He pulled out his phone, capturing the moment with a camera click. Lost in the intensity of your kiss, neither of you had noticed him. He snickered at his discovery, feeling proud of this piece of information he was now sitting on.

In the days that followed, you and Hazel became inseparable, caught up in the intoxication of a budding romance and newfound feelings. Mundane moments were made ten times better just by her presence. You’d been in relationships before, but not like this.

Taking walks hand in hand, you found the quiet corners of your college town, finding comfort in how easy it was to be around each other.

Movie marathons turned into shared glances and stolen kisses, the screen flickering in the background as you explored this new person. Your connection was so intense, it often escalated into heavy makeout sessions in Hazel's dorm, losing yourselves in the heat of the moment.

You were lying in bed, your head resting on Hazel's chest while her arm encircled you. The soft glow from Hazel's laptop illuminated the room, displaying a scene where two characters were kissing in a pool.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you said.

Hazel's hand gently rubbed your shoulder. “Do what, hm?”

“Make out in a pool. It just seems so… liberating.” You shifted in her arms to gaze up at her.

“How is making out while standing in a body of water any different than doing it on land?” She laughed, looking down at you.

“You'll find out when we do it one day,” you said with a smirk. “It’s gonna blow your mind.”

“I don’t know, I think our kisses are already pretty mind-blowing. But I’ll hold you to it,” she replied, her eyes fixed on your lips.

Just then, your phone rang, and it was a call from Isabel. You answered it, still comfortably lazing on Hazel as she absentmindedly stroked your hair.

“Hey Isabel, what's up?”

“I just wanted to check on you and see how you're doing…”

“I’m fine, I’m just at Hazel’s, I’ll be back soon though.”

“Have you seen the photo? Of you and Hazel?” She blurts out.

You sit up, your heart beating frantically as you press the phone closer to your ear. Hazel looks at you, her expression shifting from contentment to concern, sensing the change in your demeanor.

"What photo, Isabel?" you ask, your voice tight with worry.

"It's on Instagram," Isabel replies, her tone heavy with concern. "Someone posted a picture of you and Hazel, and the comments… they're awful. Homophobic slurs, slut-shaming… I thought you should know."

A lump forms in your throat, and you glance at Hazel, who grips your hand reassuringly, silently offering her support. "I haven't seen it," you admit, your voice shaky. "But thanks for letting me know."

"I reported the comments, but I don't know how long it'll take for them to be taken down," Isabel continues, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm here for you, okay? Don't let those ignorant people get to you." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"Thanks, Isabel," you say, your voice quivering. "I appreciate your support. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

"Of course," Isabel replies, her voice softening. "I’ll see you later tonight.”

With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone to see it for yourself.

There it was - the innocent moment captured in a snapshot, now tainted by the cruelty of strangers. As you scrolled through the comments, your heart pounded in your chest, each hateful word striking like a physical blow.

The pain intensified with every comment, echoing the doubts that had been gnawing at the corners of your mind. Hazel peered over your shoulder, her expression a mix of anger and concern.

"Ignore them," she urged, her voice soft yet determined. "They don't know us”

But the words had already burrowed deep within you, festering like a poison. A sense of overwhelming shame washed over you, overpowering Hazel's words. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in, and in a desperate attempt to escape, you grabbed your jacket and phone, your hands trembling as you stuffed it into your pocket.

"I can't stay here," you muttered, your voice strained, your eyes avoiding Hazel's gaze. "I need to get away from all of this."

Hazel reached out, her fingers brushing against your arm, her eyes pleading. "Please, don't run out like this," she implored, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I can't stay here," you repeated, your voice cracking as you met Hazel's gaze, filled with self-doubt. "We shouldn't see each other anymore." The words hung heavily between you, an unbearable admission of defeat. You turned away, unable to face the look in Hazel's eyes, and made your way to the door.

"Wait," Hazel pleaded, her voice raw with emotion, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

The door creaked shut behind you, sealing off the warmth and safety of the room you had shared with Hazel. Tears blurred your vision as you hurried down the dimly lit corridor, the echoes of your footsteps a haunting reminder of the distance growing between you and her.

It had been a month since you left Hazel in her dorm room. A miserable month to say the least. You felt so guilty for hurting her, but were also dealing with the hurt you felt from your privacy being so rudely invaded. Not to mention the straight-up awful comments you both received. But tonight, you were at a party you had reluctantly agreed to go to. Isabel and her girlfriend Josie convinced you that you needed to get out of your head and let loose.

Flamingo pink and aquamarine neon lights cast an ambiance on the frat house walls. The floor was sticky and the speakers were playing a rap song you didn’t know.

“Dude, we’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love and date hot people,” Isabel said, raising her glass to you. “Like, being this young is art. Cheers to that.” Isabel clinks her shot glass to yours. You tip your head back and shoot the tequila, burning your throat as it goes down. You needed any excuse to take a shot right now.

"I’m just going to go get us some more drinks and find Josie, okay?" Isabel gives you a reassuring look, and you nod before she disappears toward the bar. You do your best to make it look like you’re busy without your friend there, opening your phone, turning your brightness down, and scrolling through the calendar and weather app hoping no one can see over your shoulder.

“Well would you look who it is” You hear a familiar, sinister voice come from behind you. Great, it's your ex-boyfriend. Quite literally the last person on planet Earth you want to be standing face to face with right now.

“What could you possibly want right now, Josh.” You say deadpan, genuinely annoyed to be in his presence.

You and Josh had dated for four months. It was your typical college relationship, but there was always something missing, and you couldn't quite figure out what it was. He wanted sex, but you never felt quite ready to do it yet, at least not with him. Four months with no sex for a typical frat guy like Josh was absolute torture for him, so he went looking elsewhere. You ended it when you found him in bed with a brunette from the nursing program.

You can smell his mint gum as he cockily chews it and leans closer to you. “You come here to make out with more dykes, huh? You know, I always thought you were a prude, considering you never gave it up. Turns out your just a horny freak for pussy.”

His words sting. Hot tears brim at the bottom of your lash line. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but you’ve never been good at standing up for yourself in these situations.

“Fucking slut.” He spits, even closer to your face than he was a moment ago. He has you cornered against the wall now, your blood boiling with rage and your head spinning with shame.

In the dim light, you see a hand adorned with silver rings firmly grip onto his shoulder. Before he could react, he was yanked backward by the other figure, a swift and forceful movement that left him disoriented. The punch landed sharply, the impact reverberating through his body.

Hazel.

Her eyes met his for a moment, before she turned toward you, leaving him shocked.

Holy shit.

You stare at Hazel, stunned, your gazes locked. Bright, red blood pours from your ex-boyfriend's nose.

“What the fuck?” His hands fly up to his face. “Is this your little girlfriend?” He laughs humourlessly, pointing to Hazel. “Real fucking cute. Yeah, you’re dead’ He says as he launches toward her, only to be pulled back by another group of arms, Isabel and Josie.

“Guys! Go! We’ll take care of him”

Hazel wastes no time and grabs your hand, her fingers entwining with yours in a reassuring grip. You run alongside her, the thumping music fading as you descend the stairs and navigate the chaotic kitchen of the large frat house. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation fueling your steps.

You don’t know if it's the slight buzz from earlier or the intoxicating lovesickness for the girl in front of you that continues to propel your feet forward, but you decide to just go with it. Hazel leads you through the crowd, weaving in between sweaty bodies and flashing lights.

As you step into the backyard, the cool night air hits your skin, and the scene before you unfolds like something out of a movie. A huge moonlit swimming pool stretches out, its surface rippling with the movements of people swimming in their underwear, their laughter and splashes filling the air. Realization strikes you, and you know exactly what Hazel is about to do.

With an impish grin, she turns to you, "Ready?" she asks, her voice drowned out by the music but clear in your ears. She hovers her mouth to the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, please” she whispers.

You nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline, and without another word, Hazel tugs you toward the edge of the pool.

With a shared glance, you leap into the water together, the cool embrace of the pool enveloping you. As you resurface, you find Hazel's eyes, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the pool. She looks so perfect like this, you almost forgot how stupidly into her you were.

“You look really pretty” She finally says.

“Hazel, I’m so sorry. That was so fucked up leaving you in your room like that.”

“I tried to call you,” she says, her voice tinged with disappointment.

“I know, I was too much of a coward to face you, I always bury everything that makes me uncomfortable and avoid it forever. It's unfair, you need someone who can confront those issues head-on, right away.”

“What if all I need is you?” she murmurs, her words hanging in the air, heavy with vulnerability and hope.

“Hazel…”

Your heart swells at her comment, you wanted nothing more than to hear those words come from her mouth, but your guilt makes you hesitant.

She reaches out for your hand, pulling you closer through the water, her touch reassuring. Her hands gently encircle your waist, you instinctively raise yours to rest around her neck. It feels like magnets snapping back into place,

"I don’t want to hide anymore. I don't want to be the one who runs away from difficult conversations. I want to be the one who faces challenges with you, who stands by your side no matter what." you say.

Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small smile, her grip on your back tightening. "I believe you," she says. Her voice is filled with trust.

"I mean it, Hazel," you continue, your voice steady.

She lifts your legs in both of her hands, effortlessly supporting you as you wrap them around her body beneath the water. The sensation is intimate, a silent declaration of trust and connection. Suspended in the water, your eyes meet hers, and in that moment, there's a shared understanding that goes beyond words.

Your foreheads meet each other, resting gently against one another, and your breathing hitches in anticipation as Hazel speaks. “So, are we still on for that mind blowing pool kiss?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

A mischievous smile curves your lips in response. "Well, if they’re gonna call me a slut," you say, your voice low and sultry, "it might as well be worth it for once. I say we give them a show."

With unspoken agreement, you close the distance between your lips, capturing Hazel's mouth in a heated, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away, and all that exists is the electricity between you, the taste of her lips, and the water around your bodies.

You feel hopeful for the future, for where this could go. For where your heart might lead you. As you both pull away, breathless and smiling, you exchange a knowing glance, understanding that something has shifted between you, and you were exactly where you were meant to be.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

a/n: thanks so much for reading !! this is my second fic ever so again pls forgive me if there are any mistakes. I definitely want to write more for hazel though so I am so open to requests if you ever want to send one <3333

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader #hazel bottoms #bottoms 2023 #ruby cruz #hazel callahan fanfic #sapphic #wlw #hazel callahan imagine #Spotify

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starkidmunson · 20 days

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glitter & crimson

Steve comes home from his first post-injury workout drenched in sweat and throws himself onto the sofa on his back. Robin winces as she watches him go, raising an eyebrow.

“That bad?” She asks, to which Steve groans in response.

“They want me to wear a bubble.” Steve responds, digs his hand around inside the gym bag still attached to his side and lifts out the full face mask.

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea, protect your face at least.” Robin observes, only to be met by a glare from Steve. His facial expressions are making a triumphant return as he regains more control over his face as the wound heals, and he’s taking full advantage of his bitchy looks whenever he can.

“Says the one not blowing hot air back into their own face as they work out.” He grumbles, flopping back and dropping the mask onto his stomach. “Everything hurts. You’d think I’ve been out for months, not just a few weeks.”

“How’s the headache?” Robin predicts, and Steve gives her another look before he sighs.

“It’s not bad, don’t overreact. It’s not the concussion.” He insists, ignores the way her eyebrow rises again and instead pushes himself up again. “I’m going to shower,” Steve announces, making a quick escape from Robin.

It’s not exactly that he’s lying, because he’s not. He doesn’t think anything he’s feeling is concussion-related. The soreness in his muscles is from suddenly being weighed down with his hockey gear again, after weeks without. It’s a similar feeling to the first workout of the pre-season. The headache is a little trickier to convince everyone around, so he’d avoided mentioning it and done his best to hide it at the rink. It’s no surprise Robin can just tell he has one, though.

He lets steam fill the bathroom before he steps under water so hot his skin turns pink. He lets the shower spray target the middle of his back, shifts so it settles between his shoulder blades, and rests his forehead against the cool tiles in front of him.

Eventually, he emerges back into the apartment in sweatpants, his hair air drying. Robin is setting a cup of hot tea down on the coffee table, her own tucked onto an end table beside her on the sofa. Steve smiles softly and mumbles his appreciation as he sits and takes a sip.

As he drains the cup, the headache eases a bit and he feels a bit more human than he had after returning home from his workout.

“You got mail from your parents today,” Robin eventually offers over the New Girl re-run neither of them are particularly paying attention to but have on for familiar background noise. Steve just grunts, uninterested, and instead busies himself checking any messages he may have missed from people he actually cares to give the time of day.

Dustin had demanded a “family dinner,” which Steve agrees to and warns Robin when to expect a full house. Max, traveling with the Blackhawks for a game tomorrow night, had sent him a detailed threat to not push himself too hard while working out. He responds with a video clip the trainer had taken of Steve nailing a series of wrist shots.

Steve tries hard not to be too disappointed that he hadn’t heard from Eddie. They’d texted about their plans for the day, Steve knew Eddie had said he’d be spending the day in his studio working on a few new tracks he was putting together. Still, though, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping he’d have found a text or two from the other in the time he hadn’t been looking at his phone, something that was quickly becoming a standard for the pair.

Biting back his pride, he decides to send the first text, figuring the other will answer whenever they’re wrapping up in the studio.

Steve: Hope you’re having a good studio session.

After a long few moments, Steve can’t help the little sigh he lets out as he buries himself into the throw pillows filling out the sofa beside him. Robin nudges him with a foot, eyebrow raised, and he shrugs back at her, turning his attention to the television. It isn’t long before he zones out, though, thinking and overthinking.

His injury has given him a lot of time to think about a lot of things; primarily what landed him off the ice. He’s only mentioned it to Robin, but he has been considering coming out to his coaching staff and league officials to give background on what seems like an otherwise unprovoked violent streak from Billy Hargrove. Steve learned, in the days he spent in LA after the attack on the ice, Billy had taken to calling him names and slurs with press and on social media. The trash talking had landed him another fine from the league, but it wasn’t slowing him down. It was more than enough to prove the attack was premeditated, if everyone who needed to know the background was read in on their history.

And while Billy was staying on the attack, his teammates were apparently squared up and ready to defend Steve in a way he probably should have expected but hadn’t seen coming. Each of the players who had gotten physically involved in fighting Billy after Steve had taken a stick to the face had made comments with press about how Hargrove plays dirty and mean. Several had also spoken out about Steve’s leadership and sportsmanship on and off the ice, throwing their support behind him through his recovery.

Coming out to the league and his coaches also had the potential to alleviate some of the anxiety he was feeling around his personal life. There had always been concern about coming out, getting kicked off the ice and ending up without the one thing he knew best. Long before he’d joined the league, his father had impressed upon him that he would have to settle and make sacrifices if he wanted to stay with the sport, but Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep his sexuality bottled up and hidden away from the public.

In large part, it was easy to place blame on Eddie. The rockstar blew into his life and changed his perspective on what it was like to be a public figure, out and proud. Steve knew their status didn’t translate equally. Sports fans were different from fans of a band; Steve had joined a team with supporters who would cheer him on so long as he wore their colors and made them proud. Eddie’s fans had sought him out, decided to listen to his music and support him on their own. But for Steve to see Eddie carrying on with his life, not having to hide any part of himself or worry about not posting certain photos from their days in LA on social media (because what if they looked too suspicious and got people talking and asking questions?) was what Steve longed for.

Chicago was a pretty open-minded town; it’s why he and Robin had first moved to the city to begin with. But it still wasn’t a guarantee that everyone would continue to support the team if he did publicly come out. And Steve was working to reconcile that in his mind; to gauge how much he should even care about it. A part of him knew the greater majority wouldn’t give a shit as long as he still scored goals and played a clean, fair and exciting game whenever he hit the ice. But the thought of those few who might push back too hard and how it could impact his teammates - his friends - in the long term is still what ate away at him.

“I can hear how loud you’re thinking over there.” Robin eventually says while he’s deep in thought, and he shoots her a small smile in response. “Look, Steve, you have to do what you think is best for you. Who gives a shit about anyone else.” She says.

He wishes it was that easy. He knows it could be, but he cares too much about the fallout to stop overthinking. They fall back into silence again, until Robin eventually closes her laptop and leans close to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s hair.

“You’re the best at what you do and if people can’t see that around the fact that you like guys, then that’s their loss.” She says, gently, before excusing herself off to bed.

Steve lounges around in the living room for a while longer, before he turns off the tv, grabs a blanket and makes his way out onto the terrace. He wraps the sherpa around his shoulders and drops into one of the loungers out there, looking out toward the skyline. It’s cold, but not as cold as it’s been, and he’s always found comfort in the winter weather, anyway.

His phone buzzes, catching his attention, and he smiles softly at Eddie’s name. When he answers FaceTime, he’s immediately met by chaos. It sounds like three voices are talking over each other, Eddie’s closest to the phone, making a loud ‘shhh’ sound until everyone around him is silenced.

“Did you mean to call me?” Steve asks around a smile, and watches as Eddie’s face lights up as he draws his attention.

“I did!” He insists, though Steve isn’t entirely convinced. “Want to hear what the track I’m mixing right now?”

Steve raised his eyebrow, only half sure he knows what Eddie’s talking about, before he nods. “Let’s hear it.” He agrees.

“Told you,” Eddie hisses at someone just out of the camera’s frame; probably one of the Corroded Coffin boys. Eddie taps a few buttons below the phone, then a soft guitar tune starts playing. It’s not like anything Steve has ever heard from the band before, gentler and softer. Other instruments crash in, in a more typical Corroded Coffin sound, for what Steve assumes will be a chorus once there’s a vocal track, but it slows back to just a guitar for the next verse. Eddie pauses the song and lifts the phone up again. “Thoughts and opinions are encouraged.”

“It’s different.” Steve says, still a little in awe.

“But not in a bad way!” He hears Gareth’s voice from somewhere in Eddie’s studio, and Steve nods in agreement.

“I don’t think it’s in a bad way, either. Just different. It still sounds like you guys in that middle part, when all the instruments join in. But the guitar, that’s… it’s soft and sweet and gentle. It works nicely, not that I know anything about music,” Steve laughs, and Eddie gives him a little smile.

“I appreciate your opinion,” he says, seeming to inspect the screen. “Your face looks a little less colorful. How was practice?”

“Fine, I’m sore now, though.” Steve admits, shifts and cracks his back.

“Gross!” Jeff cries from somewhere around Eddie, and Steve can’t help but laugh again.

“You should get back to working, I’m gonna head to bed soon anyway. We can talk tomorrow?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods.

“Night, Stevie.”

~~~~

He hangs up the FaceTime, steals a pizza roll off Jeff’s plate, and re-opens the notes app on his phone. Scanning over the rambling notes he’d made himself about how he imagined the song would work out, he starts a new paragraph.

And he stares at the blank line before him.

“You’ve composed, like, 4 tracks and you can’t come up with a single lyric for any of them?” Freak asks, takes a pull from a joint burning in an ashtray near the sofa, and blows the smoke out away from the group.

“Very helpful insight,” Eddie grumbles, and Jeff leans forward.

“Do you want us to help? Like, do you have a theme for the songs, or is this just going to be your own little pet project?” He asks.

“Well, I guess it depends. If you want to drop a surprise EP or double album after the one we’re putting out, I’m probably going to need help. But if you’re cool with letting me sit on it, I can probably figure it out on my own.” Eddie offers.

Gareth twirls a drumstick between his fingers. “I think we let Eddie handle the love songs about Steve Harrington, and if he comes up with enough to make into something to drop, we drop them whenever he’s ready, and if not, we throw them onto the next album or whatever when he’s ready to release them.”

Eddie sighs and drops his head back against the rest of his swivel chair. “Can we stop calling them love songs about Steve?”

“Guess you have extra incentive to write lyrics to them, then,” Freak teases, and Eddie groans back, making the other boys laugh.

It isn’t much longer before they all excuse themselves to the rooms they claimed around the house. Eddie spends a few extra hours in the studio, working on as many lyrics as his brain allows and even sorts out bridge for the song he’d played for Steve before he heads off to bed.

He isn’t surprised to wake up the next morning to a text from Steve, who routinely gets up hours before Eddie and is always the first to send a text wishing him a good day ahead.

Eddie: Go easy on yourself on the ice today, you were up too late listening to headbanger music.

It’s a while before he gets a response, which isn’t uncommon. They both have their own lives which responsibilities to get up to. But Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting not-so-patiently for Steve’s next response. Freak flew out this afternoon, heading back to visit family in Ohio, leaving Gareth and Jeff at Eddie’s. They’re playing video games in the living room when Eddie’s phone rings with Steve’s name and ID photo.

“Hey, how was today?” Eddie asks immediately, launching himself off the sofa and away from the boys and the noise from the television.

“Well, that’s part of why I’m calling,” Steve says, sounding a little out of breath and hair damp with sweat, glancing off camera before he flashes a charming smile down at Eddie. “What are you doing Tuesday?”

His brain short-wires for a second, thrown off course by the response. Is this Steve, asking him out on a date? That can’t be it, right? There’s no way, not with the back-and-forth they have going on. There would be more to it than that, and Steve seems like the kind of guy to give more than 4 days notice for a date that requires at least one party to travel several states. So Eddie does his best to quickly calm and compose himself, hoping he hasn’t taken an alarmingly long time to answer, before he responds. “I don’t know, what am I doing Tuesday?”

“I think you’re coming to watch the Blackhawks play the Predators in Nashville. I’m allowed to travel and suit up, but I probably won’t play just yet.” Steve is grinning, and Eddie can’t help but smile back.

“Hell yeah, I’ll be there!” He agrees, already pulling up the link to buy tickets for the game. “If I get shamed for wearing my Harrington jersey to a Preds game, you get to take the blame for me rooting against my home away from home.” Eddie teases, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh.

“Bring it on,” he challenges, finally seems to Eddie like he’s caught up and gotten back the quick wit and sharp humor which had been on a slight delay since the injury. A sign of recovery, Eddie’s sure and it helps to see him returning to normal.

They catch one another up on their days, and Eddie lets Steve listen to a few more of the tracks they’ve been working on over the last few days, but stops before the lyrics start in the only one he and Jeff have crafted words to so far, not ready for Steve to hear it yet.

As they’re talking, Eddie gets a notification he almost swipes away without reading, but Steve’s name catches his attention, so he drags it down and reads over the words.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie realizes the face he must be making is ridiculous.

“Oh, uh. I just got a notification about you?” he mumbles back, and texts the link to Steve.

Now it’s Steve’s turn to look confused as Eddie reads over the headline again.

Hockey Legacy Harringtons to Host Joint Fundraiser

Steve reads the words and seems to immediately understand them in a way Eddie can’t, and he closes his eyes in a heavy sigh. “I promise you, my life is not usually this dramatic.”

Eddie hates how miserable Steve seems all of a sudden; regrets passing the link on but knows he would have found out eventually and gotten upset anyway. “Dude, really, I don’t even know what that means, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. This is my parents, deciding that I’m worthy of being their son again because I’m getting a bunch of positive press after the injury. So my name gets to be included in the gala invitation, which I have been excluded from since juniors, by the way.” It’s still piecemeal, the information Eddie is able to take away from Steve’s explanation, but it’s enough to get the general gist of the issue.

“Ah. So, the dad who convinced you to self-sabotage is now trying to take credit for your sportsmanship?”

“Something like that,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie can see how he’s holding the phone differently, typing out a text. “I think I have to get Robin and we need to figure this out, sorry to jump off like this. But, I’ll see you at the Preds game? We can grab dinner after?”

“It’s a date.”

Eddie physically can’t stop the words before they’re out of his mouth, and immediately waits for a hole in the ground to open up and suck him in and put him out of his misery. But Steve just raises an eyebrow, smiles and shrugs. “Not yet, but. Sure.”

Then, Eddie stares at himself in the reflection of his phone after Steve ends the FaceTime call and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do with Steve Harrington, who keeps finding new ways to catch him off guard.

#glitter & crimson #starkidmunson writes #it's a little longer as an apology for how long it's been #steddie #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #simultaneously the slowest of burns and the most obvious flirting #anti-steve's parents

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spiriteddreams · 1 year

Text

fall / in love

Pairing: Al-Haitham x Reader Warnings: fluff, slight angst with a happy ending Word Count: ~1.3k A/N: writer's block is hitting hard rn so here are some feelings with our fav grumpy grand scribe

“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The last person you want to see stands in front of you. You can feel your desk digging into you from behind as you’re cornered in the quiet walls of your office with nowhere to run. Petty excuses are futile in the presence of Al-Haitham, and his looming shadow makes you feel impossibly small.

You cannot fall in love with him, you’ve told yourself this over and over again. They are bitter words to swallow down, stuck in the back of your throat as you force a practiced smile to hide every confession that threatens to tear through. There are certain things that cannot be said because they will tear down the walls you’ve so carefully constructed, and you know better than anyone how terrible he is at lending a hand when it comes to emotions. Al-Haitham is a man of titles: the Grand Scribe of the Akademiya, the current Acting Grand Master, a saviour to Sumeru (whether he acknowledges it or not), and a good friend. So you cannot fall in love with him because that will threaten everything you have built thus far.

And yet you free-fall, stumbling into these emotions you struggle to push away. You remind yourself to re-read the label that describes your relationship: childhood friends. Keep it that way, you say to yourself. Don’t fall in love, don’t fall for silly words and actions that have no deeper meaning. Falling in love is dangerous, and falling in love with Al-Haitham is possibly the most dangerous of all. You know this and yet you cannot bring yourself to draw the line. He pushes his way into his life without care, his body fitting the indent on your couch from sleepless nights of research and escaping from Kaveh’s hammering in the middle of the night.

Don’t fall in love. Instead, push him away, pull yourself out, place every obstacle you can on this chess-game like friendship that’s cornering you. So how is it that he’s cornered you now, arms crossed over his chest as he stares you down.

“I’ve been busy.” You sigh with a shake of your head. It’s not a lie, you have been rather busy with the sudden influx of paperwork and rebuilding that comes with the rebuilding of the Akademiya. But you’ve still made an effort to steer clear of Al-Haitham when you could. It was changing your daily routes, choosing to take longer walks around the Akademiya to get to your office in the morning, and instead taking up Kaveh’s offers to get lunch at the cafe across the city rather than the one just outside the Akademiya.

Al-Haitham rolls his eyes ,”Do you think I’m that stupid? You’ve been actively avoiding me. This is the first time I’ve seen you in almost two weeks. So why?” You hear the slight waver in his voice as his words end. There’s a flicker of worry in his eyes that lasts for just one second, but it’s that one second that punches through your pride. It’s too late to back out now.

“Because— I don’t understand you! You buy me my favourite pastries and then tell me it’s because you wanted one too but I know you hate how sweet these are! You ask for book recommendations but I know you hate the books I read because you have this odd enjoyment of reading physics books! You seek out my company and claim it’s only because you have nothing better to do! And I don’t understand what you want from me!” He remains quiet at your words and you shake your head slightly. Of course he doesn’t say anything. When you finally put him in check, he doesn’t know what to say. His pawns are gone, chess pieces not set up for your play, so he stays quiet.

“I don’t like feeling whatever this feeling is.” Your hands tremble as you bring them to your chest. The words bubble up from your chest and there’s no stopping them now. Not after you’ve pushed them down for so long and watched from a distance, because this distance is what has kept you going for so long.

“I see you and— and suddenly I have this stupid smile on my face and my heart beats faster and you don’t even know!” You cry out, “You don’t care that time and time again I have to turn away just because I get so worried that you’ll see me and know.!” He stares at you blankly and you hate it. You hate that you can’t read any emotions in those pretty eyes of his. You hate that his mouth hasn’t moved, not a twitch or a smirk, or a smile, or anything. You hate that his hands reach up to grasp yours, the surprisingly soft texture of his gloves stark against your clammy palms.

He opens his mouth and you brace for the worse, only for him to say softly, “Breathe, please.” A shaky breath rattles your lungs as you stare at him, mouth parted in a mix of surprise at the sudden contact and how damn close he is. There’s a mix of something in those pretty eyes of his as he ducks down to look at you from behind his grey swept hair. A smile, a rare, genuine one tugs on his lips and you can only stare. You’ve laid out your emotions bare for him to see, put him in check position and can only wait for him to make his next move.

And what you hate the most about Al-Haitham is his infuriating ability to take his time, even in the most stressful of situations. You’re acutely aware of your breathing, the rise and fall of your chest and his as you stand in silence. Your hands, no doubt sweaty, still shake even in his gentle grasp and you know that he can see the way your eyes dart around nervously, refusing to hold eye contact with him.

“After knowing me for so long, I thought that you might be able to read me just as well.” Forget how nervous you feel at the moment. You want to strangle him for his cryptic words. He’s always been good at this, dangling the truth in front of everyone’s eyes under the disguise of honey coated words and half-truths. Perhaps, at another time, you would indulge in riddled words and bite back with some of your own, but now they only irritate you. And Al-Haitham knows it. Just the thought of it brings a teasing grin to his face, one you recognize immediately.

“Don’t you think it’s rather foolish of you to avoid me like this?” Al-Haitham hums and steps back to give you some space. He doesn’t let go of your hands. “After all this time, you’d think that maybe you might realize that I care for you just as much, if not more, as you do for me.” You let the words sink in, bask in their warmth before scowling at him. Tugging your hands from his grasp you push at him gently, ignoring the feeling of his chest against your fingers as you look away.

“Just say you like me too.” You grumble. Al-Haitham’s fingers come to drag along your skin, teasing yet comforting as he laughs, “What a childish way of putting it.” You roll your eyes but stay in your spot, relishing in the turn of events. Quick as it may have been, and far too unexpected for your liking, you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t something Al-Haitham would do.

He hums, catching your attention once more. “So, are you done avoiding me?”

“Keep up this attitude and I won’t be.” Al-Haitham grins and you can’t help but match his expression. But nothing prepares you for the brief kiss that his planted on your forehead, a promise sealed without words, an act of comfort and honesty. And in the confines of these four walls, you let yourself fall in love again.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #yaepublishinghouse #al haitham #alhaitham #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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vauxxy · 3 months

Text

the moon ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

ECLIPSE- PROLOGUE, PART ONE, PART TWO

luke castellan x reader

ABOUT - luke invites you, the strange dionysus girl, to spar with him. luke makes a revelation, and you invite him to hang out.

A/N - hey y’all! it’s been a while!! so here i am, with an introductory chapter to a three parter luke x reader series called ‘eclipse’.

there’s not a lot happening in this chapter, but it’s important to the next chapter me thinks :P

also i think i’m sooo funny 😭 the title will make even more sense soon ok

WARNINGS - swearing n alcohol mention and that’s it

to say luke castellan didn’t like you would be a big understatement. but it would also be untrue.

the reality of his feelings towards you were much more complicated than simply ‘liking’ or ‘hating’ you.

his feelings towards you were completely incomprehensible. and he hated it.

you were just… so strange. the eldest daughter of dionysus, a talented actress, a rebellious girl with a sharp tongue and an even sharper blade. you were everything all at once; and it perplexed him to no end.

maybe that’s why your rivalry persisted throughout all these years. you made no sense, and luke needed everything to make sense. he needed everything to be predictable and understandable.

and you were neither of those things.

but there was also a comfort in the way that you consistently confused him- a sense of irregularity that provided him with the same comfort he would receive from those who were less strange than you were. maybe a bit more comfort, it fact.

it was truly comforting; the fact that you were always there to annoy and pester him when he was training, or at the campfire, or when you asked him to spar.

it was comforting knowing there was always someone there to challenge him- someone there to make him feel the same feeling over and over again… until the feeling changed.

“y/n, i need to talk to you.”

his voice echoed throughout the training grounds, alarming you enough to whip your head around fast to find the source of such commotion.

you were standing in the middle of the grounds, the remains of the practice dummies you were throwing your axe at scattered around the premises.

luke watched your hair move with the soft summer wind as you turned around to face him, no doubt in his mind that you knew exactly what he wanted.

“yeah? ‘bout what?”

your face was a little red and your arms were a little tired from your undoubtably taxing training session. if luke saw you like this a few months ago, he’d chuckle at how disheveled you looked.

but it was not a few months ago.

to distract himself from your appearance, his eyes trailed down to your hands as you tightly gripped your axe. it always freaked him out seeing you with that gnarly axe- throwing that thing around like it weighed nothing.

“hello? about what?” you asked again breathily, swinging your axe back and forth aimlessly as you tried to get his attention.

it seemed as though he had been distracted by something. something strange and pretty and unusual. and whatever it was, he needed to snap out of it before he went crazy.

“i need a sparring partner,” he stated blankly, leaning his back against the nearest pillar and letting out an exasperated breath.

“you’re the only one in camp who can give me somewhat of a challenge. anyways,” he took a good look at you, tapping his fingers against his forearm.

“i’m bored. wanna fight?”

you shrugged your shoulders, recklessly tossing your axe to the side and unsheathing your sword.

“yeah, okay,” you said dryly.

your hair fell over your face as you looked up at him, groaning in irritation at the minor inconvenience.

“hold my sword for a minute?” you asked blankly as you offered your sword out to luke for him to take.

luke looked down at you, amused by how easily you were able to ask him for a favour- even if it was just a minor one. it seemed like you were growing a lot more reliant on him these days. or maybe more comfortable with him? who knows.

“yeah, okay,” he said reluctantly, taking the sword from your hands.

he watched you in silence as you took a step back, running your hand through your hair.

“you really aren't much of a talker, are you?” he asked, smiling smugly as his eyes followed the flow of your hair.

you pulled a hair tie off of your wrist, quickly tying my your hair into a lazy ponytail.

“oh, i’m a big talker. just not with you,” you said bluntly, your voice playful and smug as you flashed him a mischievous smile.

luke liked it when you smiled. he liked to imagine that all the stars in the sky got together on the night you were born, and decided to use their stardust to construct ever feature on your face. your dainty freckles, the shining bright whites of your eyes- the pure magic of your little smile.

‘the fuck is wrong with you? stop being weird.’

you quickly took back the sword, your fingers grazing against his during the little exchange.

“i can tell,” luke commented breathily, raising an eyebrow. his eyes narrowed slightly, before he raised his sword as well.

“you ready? or are you just gonna keep standing there looking pretty?”

“i’m always ready, castellan,” you hummed, taking a few steps towards the middle of the training grounds, and getting into position.

“whatever,” he rolled his shoulders and followed suite. “on three?”

you nodded, and let your body tense up as he started counting down.

“one, two, three-“

Luke lunged forward, stabbing his sword towards your chest. He made good use of the length of his blade, keeping as much distance between you and him as possible.

despite this, you managed to quickly dodge him, your sword clanging against his as you bit down on your lip. you quickly attempted a shot at his waist, your eyes locked on his sword as you shuffled around.

Luke smirked as the two blades clashed together, you going for his legs and him going for your chest. he attempted another stab at your chest, and when you evaded, he kicked out to try and trip you- something he figured would throw you off, or at the very least, off-balance.

you seemed to not fall for such cheap tricks. as he backed away to create some distance between you and him, he smiled. this was exactly what he wanted.

a challenge.

he heard you groan, offering a sly smirk before watching you attempt a sneaky stab at his arm.

your hair bounced with every movement, your technique airy and light- almost unpredictable enough to make him second guess his own strategy.

you speed caught luke off-guard, taken aback by the sudden stab. he definitely wasn’t expecting that.

your fast and swift movements, paired with the excellent control of your blade made him sweat a bit. he had no choice but to back away, before lunging forward with his sword once more.

you quickly dodged his attack, the sound of blades clanging echoing throughout the area as your breaths got heavier and heavier.

you moved forwards, attempting another attack at his chest.

he quickly blocked your sword, moving in with a stab at your neck- but you were too quick. you resisted the attack, hitting his sword with yours. you shuffled around again, attacking his other arm as you took a second to study him and his movements.

you attacked him yet again, moving his blade to block. the same sounds of metal clashing against each other continuing.

your attack at his arm was successful. he’d taken a little step back at the sudden pain.

luke raised his sword for a stab at your side, attempting to catch you right in the gut—this would put you on the defensive for sure… right?

you quickly blocked his attack on my side, left with a little cut on your forearm.

luke was shocked at how easily you were able to defend yourself against him. you had been training and sparring and competing against him for years- obviously you were a talented fighter.

but luke had grown accustomed to winning. now? he felt intimidated.

like knew his arms were his weak spot, but he hadn’t expected you to realize this yourself. your counterattacks came quicker now that you’d discovered the most effective way to get him out of commission.

the two of you were now evenly-matched in the sense that neither of you could land an attack at the other, and this was starting to get exciting.

you started trying to take cheap shots at his arms and legs, pissing luke off further. it was like you cracked the code.

you were winning.

He grunted, breathing heavily. he was struggling to move against each of your quick attacks, trying to match the sheer speed and agility of your balde.

and to his surprise; he was starting to get tired.

as soon as he tried attacking you, you blocked it- hard. this caused the sword to fly out of his hand.

disarming him was much easier after he was tired and distracted.

then, you lunged at him.

you held your blade against luke’s neck as you pushed him to the ground, straddling his hips as you looked down at him.

“do i win?” you asked smugly, restraining his movements.

you had giving luke a run for his money. the best swordsman at camp was now at the mercy of your sword.

while you two were similar in skill across all aspects of fighting, you had rarely ever beaten him in a sword fight.

“yeah, sure, sure you win,” he growled, attempting to shove you off of his lap.

“now get off me.”

he looked up at you, noticing the proud smile plastered across your face. it wasn’t cocky, or smug- it was proud.

and as much as he’d hate to admit it, he was genuinely impressed with you.

you finally lifted your body off his, standing up as you twirled your sword around.

“huh. i didn’t know i was this good with a sword…” you mumbled, looking down at the blade.

luke stared up at you, rolling his eyes as he got up.

“still obnoxious as ever, though,” he mumbled dryly.

luke glanced at your sword for a moment before turning his gaze away. he walked over to his sword, picking it up off the ground and sheathing it as he turned back around to face you.

“you’re not bad. obviously,” he said bluntly, his cheeks red and his face sweaty from the challenging sparring match as he walked back over to you.

“your attacks are unpredictable. quick, agile. you have a good technique.”

you furrowed your brows, a little confused by his kind comments and praises.

“technique? i just kept my eyes on your sword and tried to get you tired enough to disarm you,” you explained, sheathing your sword.

“i’d hardly call that technique. you’re much better than i am,” you added.

that was unexpected. a compliment? or… was that sarcastic? what the fuck is going on?

you were probably just tired; that’s why you were downplaying your achievements. that’s why you were offering him praise despite his shortcomings.

“i’m probably stronger than you, but you’re much faster. agility is just as important as strength,” luke replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

you shrugged your shoulders, smiling smugly as you took out your ponytail.

“well, i gotta make up for my lack of raw muscles somehow,” you retorted breathily, your tone playful and your voice light as you smiled at him.

you were a child of dionysus- you weren’t supposed to be a fighter, you were supposed to be an actress. but it made sense for you to go against the grain like that. you were an unpredictable, hotheaded, arrogant, theatrical girl… who could also somehow take him in a fight.

luke tried not to gawk at how your hair fell over your shoulder as you shook your head.

as much as he hated noticing it, your hair was really pretty.

it was probably one of his favourite things about you.

luke stared into your eyes as you spoke, his gaze unwavering as he admired your sheer confidence- even when downplaying yourself.

and there it was. the same feeling that had been fucking him over everyday for the past 2 months. a feeling that he was starting to get uncomfortably familiar with recently; fondness. admiration. adoration.

you were the moon. constant, yet always changing. bright, yet most comfortable surrounded by the confines of the dark.

you were his moon.

and you were beautiful.

‘ew, stop.’

luke didn’t appreciate the new soft spot he was harbouring for a certain dionysus girl. he hated how his heart was constantly making space for her. and he hated that his brain was just as complicit.

“i mean, you don’t need to ‘make up’ for anything. muscle isn’t really that important in a sword fight,” he said, crossing his arms as he finally pulled his eyes away from yours.

you nodded lightheartedly, idly running your hand through your hair as you turned your head away from his.

gods, he could watch you play with your hair all day if he could. of course, he’d prefer to play with it himself, but watching you do it was almost as good.

“hm. i guess you’re right,” you sighed, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts lazily.

“anyways, sword fighting is way too much effort. i prefer throwing axes at people.”

luke smirked, rolling his eyes playfully and he looked over at you.

“i still can’t believe you’d choose an axe over a sword.” he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, “you’re so… eccentric.”

“what do you expect? mr. d is my dad,” you said playfully, earning a reluctant chuckle from luke.

“i guess i shouldn’t be surprised,” he replied. “but seriously, who chooses an axe as their primary weapon? why not a bow or something?”

you rolled you eyes, shaking your head at the boy in disagreement.

“the arrows are too flimsy. i prefer wielding something with a bit more weight,” you explained. luke shook his head in disbelief, chuckling dryly.

“you’re so weird… who else uses an axe for their weapon of choice?” he asked out of genuine curiosity, a hint of sarcasm laced in his tone.

“and don’t say something like ‘oh, tons of people’ or something.”

“oh, tons of people,” you repeated, mocking him playfully as you took your hands out of your pockets. you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, letting out a smug chuckle.

“shut up,” luke scoffed, his usual smirk plastered on his face.

gods, it felt like his feelings were becoming more evident by the minute. he was going insane.

‘you like her, don’t you?’

the thought popped into his head again.

‘shut it out, or else it’ll get awkward.’

he wasn’t about to ruin the fun you were having.

and besides, he didn’t like you. he couldn’t like you.

you were literally the daughter of the camp director. and you were insufferable. or… well- that’s a lie. you used to be insufferable.

it seemed as though age had provided you two with a new sense of maturity; letting your rivalry calm down and allowing you two to finally get along.

and as much as luke hated to admit it, he kinda liked getting to know you. he liked spending time with you. but he always did- that’s why you two spend so much time fighting, right?

luke was suddenly snapped out of his head by the sound of footsteps hitting the floor of the training grounds. he looked up to see your back as you walked away, his eyebrows furrowing at your silent departure.

“where are you going?” he called out.

you turned around quickly, quirking your head to the side.

“the campfire, obviously?” your said, your hands stuffed in your pockets again.

“aren’t you coming?” you asked, staring him down playfully with a friendly smile.

luke’s eyebrows rose, his body freezing as he thought it over.

‘she’s mocking you.’

‘no she isn’t- you’re the leader of the hermes cabin. you have to come to the campfires, dickhead.’

‘can’t be bothered, nah.’

“i have better things to do, thanks.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in the middle of the training grounds.

you raised your eyebrows, a little smirk emerging on your face.

“you sure? because as soon as the younger campers head back to their cabins, us older demigods are going down to the lake,” you said, crossing your arms to mirror his defensive stance.

“… and i’ve got a bottle of wine and half a bottle of vodka hidden under my bed,” you whispered as you took a step forwards, shooting him a mischievous wink.

vodka? that was enough to pull him in, even if they were supposed to have a little rivalry going. but then again, they were barley rivals anymore.

it’s not like he was big on drinking, but he was big on discarding his responsibilities- even if it was just for a few hours.

he paused for a moment, staring at you as he contemplated whether or not he should come to the campfire.

luke didn’t even care if you guys didn’t like each other that much, he still wanted to spend more time with you. besides, he didn’t see the problem in exploiting the way you guys were being a lot more civil to each other recently in order to get a little tipsy.

“yeah fine,” he mumbled, “i’ll come.”

#ECLIPSE SERIES VAUXXY #luke x reader #luke castellan drabbles #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo disney+#charlie bushnell #percy jackson

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poisonous-honey · 3 months

Text

Soul Crushing Guilt

(This is a re-upload: Originally posted to UniverseUchu on December 2nd, 2022)

You've treated them all like toys. In your defence this was just another video game to you a couple of weeks ago, but they're actually real with thoughts and feelings of their own. You don't know how to feel.

Who’s Here! Venti

Contains: isekai reader, Self Aware Genshin (not the Cult SAGAU), Insecurities (reader), Hurt/Comfort I guess it’s called

Note: I will say this takes place in the middle of a story, but it works on its own and I really liked how this turned out. I do have more written, but it's incomprehensible (even after a whole year it's still incomprehensible lmao)

Sitting on the cliffside of Starsnatch is not where you intended to be at this time, but your soul crushing guilt and insecurities have led you here. You needed to be away from all the positivity from everyone in Mondstadt. Their kindness was only worsening your mood. Staring over the edge, lost deep inside your head, you almost miss the way the wind whirls around you before you hear the one person you wanted to avoid the most right now.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why’d you leave without saying anything? Everyone back at Mond is worried, you know.”

You don’t say anything in response and let Venti walk up and sit next to you. You both stay silent and watch the waves crash onto the beach. Venti occasionally takes glances in your direction, but for the most part his eyes are on the scenery. After a few minutes, he tries asking you again.

“I know you told us that we aren’t overwhelming you, but please, if we actually are-”

“That’s not the reason I left Venti.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence is all that greets him. “Please, we just want you to be comfortable with us. We can’t help if we don’t know.”

Hearing him say that only makes you feel more guilty. They’re all so nice to you, and for what? The pressure and the guilt keeps building and building the more you stay here. Everyone’s been so understanding and kind, but all you’ve done before is use them any which way. You’ve judged them for superficial reasons and have even gotten them killed on numerous occasions. Venti showing up and putting the blame on himself and the others like they’re the reason you left just adds onto your shame as tears start to escape your eyes.

Upon seeing your eyes water, Venti slightly panics. “W-Wait, why are you crying!? I’m sorry for whatever-”

“Venti please stop.”

You turn to look Venti in the eyes, and see the panic and worry etched onto his face. It only makes you feel worse.

“Venti… Why are you here? Why do you keep following me?’ You look away from him, trying to keep from balling on the spot. ‘Why are you so nice to me?”

Hearing this, Venti’s face slowly scrunches in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m going to be nice to you. Where is this coming from?”

“You were conscious the entire time I was playing. I used you all like you were dolls for my amusement. After I got you, didn’t you feel like I was holding you captive or-or like some sort of toy forced to do my bidding? I don’t understand why no one hates me! I feel so guilty of everything I’ve said and done, but everyone’s apologizing to me like they’re in the wrong, and I don’t get it! Especially you! As the God of Freedom, don’t you hate me for taking away your own freedom from you? I just don’t understand… So why…” Unable to continue, you look away as you try to wipe your eyes and wait for Venti to finally tell you he hates you. That he’s going to stop pretending and get up and leave you alone. In your mind you know he would never, that's not who he is, but fear and anxiety is irrational.

Your breath hitches as you feel his hands land on your cheeks and turn your head to look at him. Instead of the disgust or apathy your heart was expecting, Venti’s face is filled with sorrow.

“I can’t believe you would think so low of me.’ He looks downwards and wipes away a few tears with his thumbs before looking back at you with nothing but care. ‘I guess from your point of view that’s a reasonable assumption to make, but you seem to be forgetting one key detail.”

You stare at him as he proceeds to give you the smuggest look you’ve ever seen on him. “I came home extremely early on my banner, didn’t I?”

What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense to you. He’s already treating you extremely differently than you anticipated, and now his question is putting your already malfunctioning brain into overdrive. What did his banner have to do with anything?

“What? Venti I-I don’t understand. What are you trying to…’ Finally, it all starts to click into place as your eyes widen, and his stupid grin gets larger. ‘You… Did you influence the banner wishes???”

Venti laughs joyously as he lets go of your face. His eyes sparkle like he’s recounting the best moment of his life.

“Why yes, I did! I actually got in a lot of trouble for that! It's part of the reason you lost the next 50/50, but I couldn’t miss the chance to join your team. I refused to wait another second.”

“But why? I still don’t under-”

“I have the freedom to make my own choices, do I not? I wanted to join your team, so I did.”

His expression changes from smug to such a soft look. You have a hard time believing it is being directed at you.

“Why, yes, I may be the God of Freedom, but I’m also simply one of the many characters this game has to offer. I’m one of your many characters in particular. And out of such a colourful cast of individuals, I was your favourite. To be the reason someone even downloaded our game in the first place sends me over the moon. For everyone else, you still give their lives a purpose and have earned everyone’s respect. Sure, you might be a bit crass, but even when you were rude or made a mistake, you still treated everyone with more care than necessary. I especially could feel and hear the level of adoration you had for me through the screen. To me, there’s nothing I want more than to travel by your side for as long as you’ll have me.”

Such a heartwarming and earnest speech from Venti has your eyes start to water again. Not all of your insecurities and guilt have been lifted, you don’t think that kind of guilt will be something you can get rid of, but with Venti here…

“You’re allowed to stay for as long as you want.”

He cups your cheeks again while looking straight into your eyes.

“Then till death do we part, my dear player.”

You break down and cry as Venti pulls you in for a hug. With Venti by your side, you know he’ll help you through your guilt with as much care and love as you’ve given him.

#sagau #self aware genshin #Venti x reader #Genshin x reader #x reader #self-indulgence ftw baby #I don’t know if I’m going to post more of this #If I am I’ll make a header to organize just a little bit #I really love what I have #but I’d need to heavily edit it because what I actually have written down is nigh incomprehensible #Pois.Posts #Pois.Writes

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bloatedandalone04 · 11 months

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BABE, COUKD U WRITE HC ABOUT WHAT ETHANS LIKE IN BED? his kinks, and shit. i’m so desperate and i LOVE ur work. i’ve re-read all of them like a million times

Warnings: ethan in bed. that's it.

➳First things first: buddy is obsessed with your body.

➳Like seriously, right from the start he’d be groping you, gripping you and squeezing you anywhere he could.

➳And that was just when you were kissing.

➳It should come as no surprise that he is an ass man.

➳Whenever you’re on top of him or even under him his hands are tightly placed there, always.

➳His favorite position is cowgirl, obviously, as he can grip your ass while also staring at your bare front.

➳It also gives him the perfect opportunity to suck marks onto the tops of your breasts (his favorite place to mark you).

➳Another place he loves sucking is your inner thighs.

➳The sight of the purple marks littered on your skin in various places just drives him wild.

➳This man has the biggest praise kink to ever exist.

➳Whether it’s him giving the praises or receiving them, he loves them.

➳Nothing gets him off like the sound of your pretty and kind voice praising him in the middle of doing something so dirty, like getting lost between your legs and devouring his favorite taste.

➳And when you go down on him?

➳He just can’t help but comment on how pretty you look with drool covering your lips.

➳How pretty your mouth looks when it’s stuffed full of him.

➳“You’re taking me so well, baby, can hardly fit all the way in.”

➳“Fuck, just like that, I love your tight mouth so much.”

➳“You’re so pretty, fuck, I love you.”

➳He can’t help but tell you how much he loves you, how much much he loves how good you are to him, for him.

➳God, does he love you.

➳Overall he’s pretty ‘vanilla’ in bed, but that doesn’t mean it’s boring.

➳Not at all.

➳Whether he’s going down on you or in you, he loves when you tug on his hair.

➳And he loves when you really go for it and leave his head sore with the memory of your hand’s relentless pulling.

➳He’s also a fan of spitting.

➳Of any kind, really.

➳Spitting on your slit before licking it back up.

➳Spitting on his length before wrapping your mouth around it.

➳Spitting directly into your mouth then watching you swallow it.

➳Borderline breeding kink, tbh.

➳He loves the thought of filling you up so good and you taking it so well that it results in you getting knocked up.

➳You’re on the pill, of course, but the thought still turned him on tremendously.

➳One day, he was going to get you pregnant.

➳Now, his stamina is insane.

➳He refuses to get off without making you come at least twice, and even then it only took about three minutes for him to get hard again.

➳He can go for hours, whether it be with just his tongue pleasuring you or his dick, the man just doesn’t let up.

➳And the sounds you make in bed? Oh boy.

➳They drive him insane.

➳He loves how you moan his name, cry out that you’re going to come or whimper when you’re overstimulated.

➳He’s pretty vocal, as well.

➳A plethora of grunts, groans and whines leave him, too.

➳It’s pretty often you find yourself in bed with him.

➳I think it’s pretty clear that the both of you just love coaxing those sounds out of one another.

➳He is also into a fair bit of choking, but only when he is the one doing it.

➳He prefers to be in control.

➳A soft dom, if you will.

➳Ethan’s sex drive is high as fuck in his prime time.

➳Seriously, it’s like an every other day occurrence.

➳School is stressing him out? Guess who he’s taking it out on?

➳He’s really proud of something he did? Guess who he’s celebrating with?

➳Some prick in his class talked about you the wrong way? Guess who he’s marking up just to prove a point?

➳Overall, don’t expect to get much sleep when you have a boyfriend who is as sex driven as Ethan is.

+thank you for the kind words <3

#scream 6 ethan #scream 6 imagines #ethan scream 6 #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 #fluff #smut #ethan landry smut

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shikai-the-storyteller · 3 months

Text

I've been thinking a lot about Leonarda's not-death ever since it happened back in April.

("What death?" you might ask, to which I say: "EXACTLY!")

Back in mid-April, Vegetta and Leonarda were mining together in a one-block wide tunnel. A mob (a Petriman) got between the two of them, and Vegetta told Leonarda to step back while he took care of it. At this point, they'd spent enough time together that he trusted Leo to listen to him.

Instead, she was killed by the same sweeping edge bug that killed her siblings.

Vegetta's reaction here is what's really interesting to me. Unlike most other parents on the Island, there are no shouts or tears – only a very brief "Hmm" and then silence. He very quietly takes stock of the situation, saying "Vegetta, no" and wondering aloud why Leo didn't defend herself. In chat, Foolish says "It was a bug, right? LAG" to which Vegetta slowly responds "Yes, lag. Bug." (Despite this, Foolish still asks "WHAT HAPPENED" in chat, though Vegetta doesn't reply).

Instead, he creates a slightly wider space in the tunnel where Leo's body is. He continues quietly taking stock of the situation, wondering why Leo didn't defend herself (which is what necessitated his intervention). She'd been lagging a lot that day, and he figures that must be the cause, and eventually when Leo re-appears out of thin air in the middle of the cave and collects her stuff, she confirms that the lag got to her and that's why she didn't fight the mob.

Now here's where things get interesting:

Vegetta checks the tab list. Online, it's just him, Leonarda, Roier, and Foolish. He quietly tells Leonarda "The body has already disappeared, and without a body, there is no crime. Nothing is happening. Did you die?" Leo shakes her head, and Vegetta shakes his head too, and in the kind voice he uses sometimes with Leo, he says: "I believe you have not died. Where is the body? It isn't anywhere, no mija. If it was a mistake, it was a mistake."

Leo says: "I saw Diosito (God) pa, and I was scared. God, what am I doing here?" and Vegetta laughs, telling her it's alright. Leo says "No pasa nada (don't worry / nothing happened)" and Vegetta says: "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." To Foolish and Roier, he messages: "Secreto."

And the funniest thing about this is it worked.

Not a single person spoke about it. I saw this entire event go down live and I didn't see a WHISPER of what transpired among fans. I can't even remember if the QSMP official accounts talked about it (they sure didn't mention it in Vegetta's recap of the day). We could discuss this in meta terms of course– Leo was having known lag issues that day, Vegetta's beloved by the admins so of course they're willing to turn a blind eye rather than slap a "?" over Leonarda's life on the Eggstatistics, but meta talk isn't what I'm interested in here.

I'm interested in q!Vegetta, the weird "god-adjacent" aura he's got, and the way the universe bends to his will.

Before he took a break from the server, Rubius seemed to be a caretaker for the Eggs who died (for example, he was present when Maxo, Quackity, and Mariana & Slime said their final goodbyes to Trumpet, Tilin, and JuanaFlippa). Because of his role as an "angel" and some of his dialogue during the early days of the server, it's not a stretch to say he probably came to collect any Egg who lost a life. I can imagine he did the same when he saw Leonarda die – that is, until Vegetta said "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." Realistically, we know Vegetta was saying this to Chat (and possibly the admins as well), but again, we're looking at this from an "in-universe" perspective.

I wonder if Vegetta was aware of Rubius' role, and this was his way of telling Rubius "No. I won't allow that to happen." We know Rubius has a soft-spot for Vegetta (and we also know that Rubius was cast out of heaven several months later) so it makes me wonder if these two instances are connected.

Either way, this isn't the first time the laws of the QSMP universe have bent for Vegetta, and I certainly don't think it'll be the last.

Rubius or no, Leo didn't die that day.

Vegetta made sure of it.

#i talk #QSMP talk #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #I FOUND IT #I wrote this post TWO MONTHS AGO #MAYBE LONGER!!!#I had clips and links prepared but I have no idea where those went #I'm not gonna bother saving this as a draft and risk losing it again #I have nearly 70000 drafts on my main blog but by some miracle this got saved in my art blogs' drafts instead #than the stars #Anyways. Leo was killed by a whale a few days later because Foolish was in the bathroom lmao #''powerful god-adjacent man who bends the laws of the universe'' vs. ''man whose entire life is a series of sitcom episodes''#I still really want to write out that ''QSMP genre'' thought I had ages ago. It's still relevant and always will be relevant #but anyways #I wrote this months ago on very little sleep but DANG. It's a banger.#I miss writing analysis stuff I wish I was in a headspace where I could do this more like I used to #QSMP analysis

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rae-writes · 1 year

Text

Such a Wh*re (I love it)

Mephisto x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : nsfw, name calling [whore], mc is accused of fooling around with the brothers and other four dateables [however it’s neither confirmed nor denied for reader interpretation]

synopsis : Mephisto would rather die than admit jealously over some human so you’ll just have to make him choke on his words instead

“What a whore.”

You slam your D.D.D down a little too hard on the desk, eyes cutting dangerously at the purple haired noble, “I beg your fucking pardon?”

Mephisto doesn’t back down. Typical. “Don’t act like it’s not true, Mc, we all see how you interact with the seven brothers, Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos, and even our Prince. I just don’t see how Lord Diavolo thinks it savory to meddle with someone such as yourself on any other basis except for being an exchange student.”

While a bit dumbfounded that he was talking to you like this, you still find it in yourself to give him an irritable smirk, “Oh? Are you jealous, Mephistopheles?”

“As if. I just thought you should know how you look, flaunting yourself around like that.”

With your hues darkening mischievously, you make your way towards him, “So you admit to watching me?” Using his surprise at your closeness, you take the opportunity to grip his tie.

“I never said— h-hold on, w-what do you t-think you’re d-doing?!”

You huffed out a ‘cute’, grin getting impossibly sharper at his sudden stuttering. Swiftly, you undo the knot and yank the accessory off, using it to tie his hands behind his back.

Trying to choke out a proper sentence, Mephisto gapes at you, eyes widening when you mutter a spell to make the tie inescapable. “Mc! I-I demand you answer me!”

“What’s it look like, pretty boy? ‘M being the whore you seem to so desperately want me to be— and I’m not even going to charge you for the front row seat you’re in.”

His breath quickens as you shove him back into a chair, eyes darting from you to the door that’s only half closed; anyone could walk in here- it was the newspaper club’s office room.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” With a wave of your hand, the door slams shut and locks itself. “No one’s gonna see you all embarrassed and humiliated but me today.”

“N-no one h-humiliates me.”

You lick a stripe up his neck, working on undoing his school shirt buttons after opening his blazer, “Watch me.”

It takes less than a minute- to expose his chest and tug his pants down just enough to free his leaking cock. Mephisto can’t decide whether it’s because you’ve had practice or because in this position, he’s more pliant than he’s ever been. He chooses the former to save face.

“You know, for having such an ugly mouth, you sure are pretty. Pretty eyes, pretty hair, pretty body…” your eyes flit downward with an amused twinkle, “Pretty dick.”

Mephisto swallows the gasp that wants to escape at your words, instead choosing to screw his eyes shut and tilt his head back. Wrong move.

Because now you're attacking it with sucks and bites, leaving no patch of skin untouched by your lips, and he can feel the bruises forming, feel the sharp bloom of pleasure when you bite down harder and it makes him keen.

And you know he’s given up his facade when he doesn’t even acknowledge the sounds he’s making, especially when his hips jerk as you grip the base of his cock.

“C’mon, ‘phisto.” Your free hand grips his jaw and yanks his head down so brilliant green hues are staring back into yours; one eye still holds your own color while the other is a mix of blue, pink, and yellow. “Don’t you think ‘m pretty too?”

Yes his brain supplies, but nothing comes out of his mouth other than a strangled groan. And when you pout at his lack-luster response, he feels the need to get on his knees and praise you until you’re smiling again.

Moving down his tensed up figure, you come to a stop in front of his legs and wrench them apart so you can fit in the middle. “Maybe I need to go ask someone else? Maybe…Lucifer?”

Hearing his rival's name while you’re inches away from his cock makes Mephisto strain against the bindings keeping his arms in place, eyes glaring down at you heatedly.

“No?” You hum in mock thought, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock absentmindedly, “Then tell me I’m pretty.”

“F-fuck, you’re pretty, you’re so fucking pretty, Mc.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” The noble groans, “Especially when you’re looking at me.” He doesn’t even care about his pride on the line here as long as he keeps your—

“Attention, hm? That’s what gets you going, is my attention? Why didn’t you just say so, silly demon.” You wrap your lips around him, taking his cock all the way down so casually he almost thinks he’s dreaming.

“S-shit! Oh, fuck, f-fuck!” Mephisto feels you laugh freely, sending his back arching at the vibrations. He knows his cheeks are ablaze, embarrassingly so, but- “P-please, please don’t stop!”

Laughing again, you come off his cock with a pop, using your hand instead so you could coo at him, “Look at you, Mephisto. Whining, begging, and trembling because of me.”

He tries to shake his head to deny it, but it only adds to his thrashing as he feels himself getting closer and closer to that delicious edge.

“I think…” You dig your tongue harshly into his slit, making him cry out so loud it bounces off the walls, “I think you’re the whore.”

At that, Mephisto just falls apart in your hands, toes curling in his shoes while his body shakes so much he’s almost afraid he’s gonna fall off the chair he’s on.

It’s a gorgeous sight. Purple hair all mussed up, cheeks a pretty dark pink, eyes half lidded, and tongue lolling out just the slightest amount. His chest, framed by the wrinkled uniform, is streaked with white, as are his blazer and pants. It’s such a sight that you can’t help but…

The sound of a shutter going off brings Mephisto back to reality, weakly opening his eyes to see what the noise was. What should be a cold wash of dread is instead a shock of heat forming in the pit of his stomach as he watches you hold up his camera.

You take your time connecting said camera up with your D.D.D, successfully transferring the picture over. It’s only when you place the electronics down does he finally speak.

“So what? You gonna leak that to everyone now that you’ve done your part at humiliating me?” Although he can’t help but find the predicament he’s landed himself in very hot, he still has a sliver of nervousness in his tone.

“Course not.” Walking back over to him, you lick some of the cum off his chest, “Looking like this? You’re all mine.” You savor the taste a bit more theatrically than you should, but the whimper that escapes Mephisto is all too worth it.

“M-Mc—“ he’s cut off by your lips crashing onto his and he doesn’t waste a single second in kissing you back, bullying his tongue into your mouth impatiently.

You moan at him in return, tangling your tongue with his before you pull back, a little breathless from the encounter, “Pretty, pretty, Mephistopheles…” Capturing him in another kiss, you make sure this one is slow and sensual to keep his attention on you.

It works. He doesn’t even realize you’ve undone your spell or that you’ve begun untying his restraints. All he’s focused on is your taste mixed with the faintness of his own and the warmth of your breath when you break away for a quick moment, just to come right back. It was intoxicating and he loved it. Craved it.

Pulling away one last time, you gaze at him thoughtfully, “I wonder if your mark is as pretty as you…maybe you’ll let me find out someday, hm?” And then you’re grabbing your phone, waving at him, and exiting the room, taking a piece of his pride with you.

But Mephisto doesn’t mind, not really. Even when he scrambles around to clean himself off and make himself presentable again to go meet up with his prince because he’ll sear his pact into you, no matter who says otherwise. You asked for it and he’s ever so glad to deliver.

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me smut #om smut #mephisto x reader #mephistopheles x reader #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto #mephisto smut #obey me imagine

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

“Woah, hey, I wanna try.”

Nico startles at the voice, tiny bone falling from his hand and sinking back into the dirt.

“Aw.” Beat-up flip-flops slow to a stop right next to him, and Will plops himself down. He shoots a bright, too-wide smile in his direction, eyes crinkling. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Nico says warily, subtly inching away. Will, either oblivious or uncaring to his intention, just leans in closer, blue eyes watching him intently. “…What are you doing here?”

“Hanging out with you. Duh. How did you do that?” He points to Nico’s hands.

Confused, Nico re-summons to the squirrel femur, dragging up the rest of the skeleton too. It chitters to life, nosing at the sliver of bare knee out from Nico’s ripped jeans, before bounding over to Will. He doesn’t even flinch, laughing as the little thing scampers up his arm and rests in his hair. Nico’s mouth twitches.

“I don’t actually know? I guess I can do it the same way you can heal. It kind of just happens, I can’t really teach you.” He pauses, squinting. “Unless…necromancy is healing, technically. Can you do necromancy?”

Will shakes his head, wincing as one of the squirrel’s ribs gets catches a curl of his hair, tugging it as it moves. “No, the other thing. The spinny thing.” He gestures towards Nico’s hands, wiggling his own in explanation. “With the — bone.”

“Oh! Oh, that.”

Closing his eyes, Nico lays his palm flat on the packed dirt, feeling around under it. He can’t see it, exactly, but he can feel buried things the same way you might feel the air shift when someone comes in an empty room. Things take up space, and there’s a record of that you can feel. Nico’s ability just extends underground, and bones, especially, are like someone entering a room loudly. He’s directed to them almost automatically.

He feels around until he gets pulled towards another buried dead. A mouse, this time, or at least a part of its skeleton. Nico leaves it. The bones are too small for his purposes.

He keeps searching until he finds a raccoon’s ulna — perfect. He drags it up, patient as it worms its way around rocks and through clay and even, notably, a snake’s burrow, and finally breaks through the surface, right up into his waiting palm. He taps it twice on the ground, shaking off the excess dirt, then poises it deftly in between his right middle and pointer figure.

Then, aware of Will’s intense gaze on him, he starts to fiddle with it.

So fast the movement looks fluid, he passes the thin bone along his deft fingers; in, out, in, out. He bends it under his hand back into the looped curve of his pointer finger when it reaches his pinky, starting the cycle all over again. The bone makes tiny swishing sounds as cuts through the air.

“Woah,” Will breathes, eyes wide, pupils wider. “That’s so cool.”

Nico shrugs, embarrassed. “It’s just — twirling. It’s not hard.”

“It’s like the bone is moving itself, though! That’s so sick!”

Nico has never had anyone look so — delighted at him, before, at his magic. Not that this even counts — he did this with sticks, when he was a kid, with pencils. It’s just a fidget, but Will grins at him like Nico’s turning straw into gold.

“I can — show you, if you like.”

Will cheers, scooting somehow closer. Their knees touch, and Nico has to bite down a gasp; somehow, even that touch is hot, even through his jeans he feels like he’s been shocked. His hands, too, under Will’s intensive, determined scrutiny, start to tingle.

“Extend your middle finger up, a little, like you’re trying to cross it over your pointer. No, don’t actually cross it, just — here. Let me.”

He grabs Will’s hands before he can think about it, and he regrets it; the contact makes it suddenly hard to breathe. He forces himself through it, breathing through gritted teeth, and places Will’s fingers the right way.

“Your heart rate’s way off,” Will comments. “You’re also producing an excessive amount of adrenaline and cortisol. You okay?”

Nico bites back a curse. Damn vitakinesis.

“I’m fine,” he grits out.

“If you say so.”

He rushes through the end of his explanation, practically flinging the bone in Will’s direction and throwing himself away, making sure there’s a healthy stretch of space between them when he sits back down.

“You try.”

Will shifts, eyes narrowed on the poised bone. His tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth in focus, just barely, and Nico has to beat back his thoughts with a mental battering ram. The squirrel skeleton, still sitting on Will’s head, rattles as if laughing at him.

I’ll give myself a lobotomy. I will. Do not test me.

“I got it!”

He glances back down at Will’s cry, accidentally meeting his eyes — blue, blue, gods, they’re so blue, is that an Apollo thing? First the sunrise-coloured hair, then sky-eyes? Apollo’s eyes are brown, usually. Blue only when he feels like it. Why are Will’s so identical to the heavens, then? Why do they seem to take up half his face, they’re so constantly wide, constantly watching? Attention everywhere, all the time, like everything is worth looking at, committing to memory. They go near black, when the sun sets, they get so dark. Mirrors of the night sky. That can't be mortal.

Sure enough, the ulna weaves through Will's fingers — clumsy, stuttering, not as fluid as Nico, but the foundations are there — successfully.

"Good job."

The answering smile could light up the Earth in an eclipse. Nico feels sunburnt.

"I gotta go show off to Kayla and Austin!" Ulna tucked in his ear like a pencil, he reaches up a hand, waiting for the squirrel, despite not having an olfactory system, to sniff his palm, deem it safe, and crawl in. "Come on, Sammy. Thanks, Nico! You're the best!"

"Sure," Nico mumbles. He watches him run off, cradling the little squirrel skeleton carefully. "No problem."

A small smile pulls at his face.

#thank you to the person who sent me an entirely unrelated ask that put me on a tangent until i wrote this #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #pre solangelo #pining nico di angelo #fluff #my writing #longpost #will/nico #nico/will #pjo hoo toa

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vilsoo · 4 months

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୨⎯ CHAPTER THREE ⎯୧

incubus!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

꒰ ✟ ꒱ GENRE: horror, demon au, nsfw 18+, porn with plot.

꒰ ✟ ꒱ SUMMARY: Sex demons are not as provocative as you think they are. Not only do they engage in sexual acts with humans, they thrive off their flesh and haunt them in their nightmares. When an incubus disguised as a Reverend turns a hungry eye on one of the parishioners, gruesome events at the cathedral slowly unfold; blasphemy, gore, and terror...

꒰ ✟ ꒱ CHAPTER WARNINGS: blasphemy, WC: 3,955

PREVIOUS • MASTERLIST • NEXT CHAPTER

written in toji's pov, narration style similar to the Netflix show, "You." this takes place in a fictional setting; St. Reze University & Cathedral.

The morning air had become thicker than the oldest tomes of the St. Reze Clergy House.

Located in the middle of campus was the residence of the clergy along with an administrative office for the local parish. I was sent here an hour ago, deadpanning at the mahogany wooden desk and thought about everything from last night— the way we met, the brief conversation I had with Shoko… But also that screeching, unsettling noise from the stair tower which slightly concerned me.

"Fushiguro. You listening?"

Father Getou Suguru. One of the priests I'm also close with from the clergy. But aside his occupation as St. Reze’s holy priest, I'd feel comfortable drinking with him at a bar or going out to play billiards. Usually his hair would be down when he wears his vestment and cassock, but this morning it was tied back.

Suguru— I refuse to call him Father outside of the church— stood at the opposite side of the room, skimming an old book as he sips his morning tea. His office had varnished brown bookshelves and the fresh smell of brewing beverages. The sunlight tinted of a dusty orange through the large clerestory window, contrasting to the solemnity of this environment.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry. Go on."

I was too drained to listen to him this morning. I could’ve declined or not even show up to this brief rendezvous, but I didn’t want to dig myself in a deeper hole than I already am. He is, after all, the one that pays me for the shit I do. Even if I’m barely involved with the church and its people. There is no doubt that he knows about my blatant and aloof behavior the way Sister Shoko knows as well.

"Remember the other Reverend that got engaged just eight months ago? Their wedding is at the cathedral next month. Interested in helping us?"

I frowned. "Wait— who's getting married again?"

The priest deadpanned at me. "Our fellow Reverend Nanami Kento. I thought you knew this already.”

Feeling indifferent, I watch as the dark liquid swirled around my mug as I held it. "Oh. I forgot."

The priest sighed in exasperation. "I'll pay you extra if you come by and help."

I paused before I could take a sip once I registered his words, averting my gaze right at him. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Of course you would," he taunted. "Is money always going to be your motivation?"

My elbow was pressed on the table and my cheeks rested in the crest of my palm, slightly smirking at him as my drink clanks on the wood. "You know me, Suguru."

The man slaps the book closed with one hand, sliding it back into the shelves. "We'll talk more about it later with the others. Please do not forget the meeting at the chapter house next week. You have to be there.”

I notice him grabbing a few of his things including his vestment. "Leaving for sermon already?"

“I need to be early. Also, I’m leaving you in charge of the conferences in here today.”

How great.

The ominous priest finally left. I continued drinking absentmindedly for the past ten minutes and dwelled at the campus view outside. It was an early Sunday morning and the sermon was starting soon. Fridays and Saturdays are the only days I work at the cathedral, while on Sundays I'm off. Yet here I am in the clergy house when I could've been doing something more productive.

But I didn't care at all, really. This job, this religion, or the coherent idea of a god... I didn't give a damn about the shit I’m required to do in this new life as long as Father Getou paid me— just as he said he would.

I still thought about last night. What a tantalizing night, I must admit. Meeting you for the first time in such a meek state, utterly surprising me with your sullied confession... But then I recalled the unsettling noise I’ve heard from the stair tower. Though there were no screams heard or the smell of blood when Shoko and I reached the first floor, it was something so inhuman to ever think of.

Speaking of inhuman, there was still one thing you haven't known about me yet. An infernal and sinister creature, able to sense the wanton lust of humans and their coiling fantasies, residing within my soul. One that sneakily lodges into one’s nightmares to fulfill their desires… But what also resides with my soul is real mortal blood— the outcome of a half-breed incubus.

Knock knock knock.

I stared at the door for a hot minute with a blank expression, slouching in my seat. I'm usually this lifeless early in the morning, but thanks to that coffee, I managed to stand up and approach the door. But just as I was about to grab the doorknob, my hand froze when I heard a demure voice resonate from the other side. Not from a figment of my mind, not from the faded hues in my memories… It was really you— the sound of your adorning voice reverberating in the back of my mind. And it's been hours since the last time I've heard it.

"Father Getou? You in there?"

I threw away all my inhibitions and opened the door for you. And that was the first time I saw you, really saw you— not shrouded by darkness or drops of rain. The glazing sunlight cutting from the door onto your face like a scalpel, your bare skin radiating and your attire expressed more casually than what you wore last night to the church.

A small smirk slowly crept on my lips. "Father Getou's not here. Need something from him?"

"Oh," you breathed out, slowly trailing your bashful gaze to meet with mines. "I wasn't…expecting you…”

I press my shoulder against the white doorframe as my hand grips onto the opposite side like I was blocking you from coming in. "Looks like we just keep bumpin' into each other, huh. What a coincidence."

You were perfectly in my field of view, sunkissed from the golden daylight. My eyes cast over the rest of your figure, your chest heaving faster and the muscles of your shoulders tightening. This was an odd coincidence now that I think about it. There must've been an underlying reason of coming all the way out here for a conference with Father Getou. It was too bad for you that he left several minutes ago, but not too bad for me to have some company…

"Anything I can help you with?" I coaxed. “If you’re trying to meet with Father Getou, might as well just head to the church where he’s at.”

I watch as you pressed your lips together in uncertainty, your gaze falling to a random corner of the office then back to me. "You know what? It doesn't really matter who in the clergy I talk to. May I come in?"

Feeling slightly convinced, I push myself off the doorframe and make way for you. In cold calculation, I watch the way you hold your breath once you enter, the way your shoulders tensed like the beating of your heart grew erratically. My first time seeing you this nervous and so shy around me.

"So. What brings you here?"

You were standing near Father Getou's desk as I shut the door, glancing at the bookshelves and the plain ceiling absentmindedly. "I wanted to discuss about something that Father Getou might be familiar about," you respond with a sharp exhale. "But… I guess I was too late. I should’ve made an appointment.”

I make my way around the desk where Getou stood earlier as you sat down coyly. You had a dreary expression as you stared into nothing, as if you were ashamed of whatever you were going to say.

"You can tell him after the Sunday Mass," I assured, leaning against the wall with my hands shoved in my pockets.

"I— I don’t know,” you faltered. “Maybe… I think it's better if I don't tell him…”

"Damn. Must've been that bad, huh," I smirked. "Could've saved this for the confession booth, ya' know."

Just like how you confessed to me last night.

"No, no— it's fine," you faltered, your gaze flickering back to my face. "I’m fine talking about this to anyone from the clergy. You’re a Reverend, right? Maybe we should talk more while we have the chance. Get to know each other.”

Get to know each other, huh.

It was something about your face glinting from the gentle sunlight that nearly captivated me. Maybe early Sunday mornings weren't so bad, after all. But after ruminating over your words and this igniting spark of interest I have with a human, especially a woman like you— a man like me would never go this far to give my considerations…

An incubus is meant to prey on women like you. Obsess over them, violate them, make them feel things no other human could do. But I’m not like these sick and twisted incubi. Not even a full incubus. There would be these ongoing battles of cunning, dark, and sinister thoughts and actions within my conscience. I'd feel tempted to ruin and corrupt people for my own satisfaction. But then I also have my humanity— the respect, boundaries, morals, and all of the shit I also abide by.

You left me with no choice. The cause of my sleeplessness and these constant distractions sitting right before me. Definitely harmless just to know more about a woman like you, right?

"Alright then,” I obliged. “You’re a student at St. Reze, right?"

"I am. Third year, graduating with a bachelor’s next year."

I squinted slightly. "How come I've never seen you before?"

"I was gonna ask you that, too," you chuckled. "But maybe because it was my first time attending on a Saturday."

I nodded slowly, recalling your words from your confessional. "I work on Fridays and Saturdays only. Makes sense."

"Something was just really bothering me. I felt like attending that day, so..."

I ambled closer, standing at the opposite end of the table from you. Half-lidded eyes staring meekly into mines, setting fire in my ribs and wading into my rufous flesh, strumming every fiber in my body like I was trapped in your aura. Ominous and tense anticipation between us, right in this office, right at this moment.

I've never felt something like this before. And you probably haven't, either. This hidden desire for you and your hidden desire for me has never tasted this fine, like a restless hunger teasing my tongue…

"I don’t think I've ever gotten your name. I'm Y/N."

I repeated your name in my mind, a name I for sure wasn’t going to forget. "Toji,” I then replied. “Reverend Toji Fushiguro."

"Reverend Toji,” you mused, as if you were ruminating upon my name as well. “Nice to officially meet you.”

I really tried fighting the urge to bring up your confession. But according to the clergy-penitent privilege that Suguru informed me about, they are to remain strictly confidential. Any member of the clergy that overhears a confession are bound by this “seal.” But with everything I’ve witnessed and collected from last night at church, I wanted to ask the most ludicrous questions. I wanted to know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. Why you came all the way here to the clergy office, what exactly is bothering you to the point you open up to me. Like cracking open your skull and spooling your brain, finding out all your sinister and dark secrets…

My jaw tightened as apart of me begged to know, staring at the bay window overlooking the courtyard and other facilities of the campus. But I decided to not intervene— who am I to care about a mere human, anyways?

"So. You said something was bothering you?” I piqued, refilling my cup of coffee with the machine. “Is that why you came all the way here?”

If I hadn't been paying attention to every move and every reaction you made in this office, I wouldn't have noticed the way your chest heaved slowly and steadily, like you were forcing yourself to calm down. I watched the way your body reacted. A trail of goosebumps. Slight shivers. Robbed of speech. And the way your eyes subtly began to pool with dismay, powerful as a surging storm taking over you…

“Well, this might sound a little bit, uh… carnal, Reverend Toji,” you muttered sheepishly. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, or— you know, see me as a parishioner in a different way…”

"You don't need to worry about that," I assured with a small smirk. "I'm not like Father Getou who's so professional with everything here— especially with that seminary shit. So don’t think I’m gonna lecture you with scripture.”

You chuckled lightly. “Spoken like a true layman. That’s harsh.”

"Yeah, but it's the truth." The warm liquid rushed down my throat as I drank, absorbed with this sudden rush of energy. "I don't really care about this church nor your god. I'm just working here for money— so you can tell me anything."

You gazed down solely at your lap, absorbed in your own thoughts as if this was too difficult to open up about. Your eyes were unreadable from this distance, but every time you locked my gaze for a few moments, they become so irresistible as they take me in.

"Look, I don't know if I'm ready to say it.”

"Enlighten me." I set another drink of coffee for you on the desk, the loud thud of the mug causing your body to snap. “Whatever you say, I’m not gonna hold against you. You came all the way out here this time in the morning, so don’t let this be a waste of time for the both of us.”

A human like you testing my patience was a risky game to play. But for some reason, I was a bit amused by your timid submission… Your chin tilting upwards as you looked at me in silence as I leaned against the bookshelves. Your skin continued to gleam right in my view, eyes taking me in like you were drinking the very sight of me.

After a fleeting moment of hesitance, you grab the cup and sipped carefully, watching your shoulders tense down from the warmth rushing through your veins. I stared for another long moment, both hands on the table and leaning slightly forward. It was quite entertaining, really, how things lead us to this point.

"Friday night I had a dream," you muttered softly, "I couldn't stop thinking about it, which is why I came to the church on Saturday night, seeking for guidance. But this dream was, well… a strange experience for me.”

The moment you spoke of having a dream I immediately knew. Even after finding out you came to church on a day you don't regularly attend was enough to convince me. Carnal. Nightmares. It all made sense. In the vulnerable depths of an innocent human’s mind, a disturbing creature would be quietly lurking, waiting until all is calm when the darkness shrouds over the daylight skies. This darkness incarnate springs to life as a vicious, fang-bearing, gnarly, feral incubus. Born to linger on the fragile edges of your mental state and drawing you in with its sapphire eyes…

The muscles of my jaw tightened as I clenched my teeth together in cold silence. I've learned and witnessed the vile ways of how dreams go with demons like me, and how the aftermath will always remain dreadful for humans to recount. Terrorized by such unfathomable sexual nightmares and disturbing hypnotic states of scintillating salacious lust, night after night…

“… I was in a dark place. I see some kind of shrine with wide teeth, horns on the roof and many skulls laying around. Then I look up and see this creature— he had four arms and four eyes…”

Your gaze suddenly falls back to me again, this time not directly settled on my face, but I can feel the way you trace my features— sharpened, tensed, deliberately making out every outline of me. I couldn't help but fall speechless, embracing this erratic tension going on from between.

“The things he did to me in that dream, Reverend Toji… It was literally sin. Promiscuous to ever think of, really. I'm really ashamed to say this here, but— for some reason it felt... good. If it's so wrong to think of or do, then why did it feel good?"

I notice the way your voice was honeyed with titillation as you explained, hinting with passion. It amused me— how you found a nightmare so pleasant to you. I suddenly thought of our communion from the night before, how you kneeled before me with a heated look in your eyes— salacious and delirious— indulging in submission just like your nightmare.

I wanted to know what demon snuck in your nightmare. Four eyes? Four arms? A diabolic creature I've never even heard of before. I had to suppress a lot of my thoughts back, trying my best to remain nonchalant.

"A nightmare, huh. It’s not uncommon for students here to confess about this," I prompted. “There’s a whole case study on how it’s affecting them, but you… You said it felt good?”

"I— I did," you mumbled, voice almost shaky. "And I don't know what to do— I feel that my lustful craving has ruined my relationship with God.”

After divulging to me with another abashed confession, I was rather fascinated than concerned. How you took pleasure in a fucking night terror was something I’ve never expected to come from those pretty, saccharine lips of yours. It almost enraged me— how could a human like you entice me like this? I’m supposed to do my job. I’m supposed to follow Suguru’s commands. I’m not supposed to form a relationship with any of the students here. But this was a rippling covet that makes my blood rush with urgency, an urgency to dwell in the sinister parts of me. And I can sense how desperate you feel— that covet you find so sinful, so disgraceful to your god— when in reality it isn't.

"Your desire for lust should never make you feel guilty, Y/N," I coaxed. "After all, didn't your god create us as sexual creatures? It was never deemed a sin; only taught to be one for young women like you."

This time I was speaking my mind. How I really viewed the church that condemns malicious creatures like me. All the years of false and inaccurate teachings, mistranslations, and every concept that never appeals to me. I could go on about it all day, but I suppressed my thoughts back once again.

"I've prayed and prayed that day, Reverend. But yet, I can’t stop dwelling on it. It was a very filthy dream, I admit. But it felt so… intense.”

A nightmare, I mentally corrected. Any dream with an incubus involving sexual and immoral acts are considered nightmares.

I take the opportunity to let my gaze glide over your skin. "I understand how you feel," I feigned, nearly lying to myself that I had to take another sip of my drink. "That covet you find so sinful, so disgraceful to your god— when in reality it isn't. Whoever propagated that purity culture bullshit are the disgraceful ones instead."

Your body fell stiff as the realization hit like a brick to your face, contemplating over my words. "Hm. I think I can see now why you're not so fond of the church,” you bantered, taking another sip of the coffee. “You’re more brutal than Father Geto. He’s there to console and sympathize with his parishioners, but you— You’re very, uh… passive aggressive.”

I scoffed. “That’s harsh.”

“Well, it’s kinda true,” you chuckled. “I mean, we can’t always have our reverends and ministers here console us by just spiritual enlightenment and scripture. It was nice hearing your advice coming from a different perspective. So I thank you, Reverend Toji.”

I agreed. But at the same time, I didn’t care. “Just call me Toji. But just not in front of other people and Father Geto, you know.”

"Speaking of Father Geto…" My heart jolted faster once you shot up from your seat and walked over in front of me, my skin growing hotter as your body drew closer to mines. So close as if you were invading me, but I allowed it— the gap between us growing thin, feeling our body heat fuel and ignite. I was tempted to trace your flesh, uncover the goosebumps lingering on your skin, and take you on right here on this fucking desk…

What the Hell am I thinking? Why am I being invaded with these kind of thoughts?

"… Please don't tell him about our conference and that I met with you," you continued with a low mutter. "It'll be our little secret."

I slanted my head. Our little secret?

Something crept in the grip of my numb hand, hearing the rough folds of paper crumpling. I peer down and notice your fingers gently grazing mines, feeling your warmth and tenderness as you slipped some cash.

"Are you serious?" I whisper. "You know I can't take this."

"No, Toji. It's fine," you beamed. "After lecturing me like that— I really think you are a good man. Doesn't matter who you are or how you view the church."

I clenched the cash in my grip, not realizing how clammy my palms grew. I was already at a loss of words from this strange, erratic feeling in me right now. Slipping money in my hand as you invaded my personal space, breathing in your darling aroma, your irises dancing with the room's fast-changing glow. You then look at my lips. I look at yours. There's a pause.

You slightly inched forward, my entire body falling frozen as you pressed your lips against my cheek. Immediately I was immersed with this sudden softness and sweetness, like laying on a bed made of clouds, plush and impulsive. Warming my bones, melting my center. My heart beat rising, but also trying to soothe.

"’Till next time, Toji," you murmured, your fleeting breath hitting my ear until you turned away and left.

What did you just do to me?

I wouldn’t say your kiss of gratitude on my face was a violation. But though I had no idea where it stemmed from, it felt… pleasant. Perhaps I was somewhat successful playing the role of a Reverend who’s not really in touch with humanity, but tries to just for the sake of understanding people. I just don’t know how to feel from a tender moment that came from nowhere. I was too astonished to register it through my brain— the intimate touch of a human.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. I've studied every line and every form of your figure, the shape of you and the aching in your glinting eyes. How you starve me with those fucking eyes. How I wanted to see all of you right here, right in this office, right on Father Suguru’s desk— gliding across your body with a wicked purpose. There was no way to fight your embrace. I would’ve allowed Suguru to fucking exorsice me for wanting to feed off your forbidden sexual desire. And I was too selfish to let that lame demon in your nightmare feed off it. Not even any man you encounter here could fulfill you the way I plan to.

Only me.

TAGS: @suget @haezen @heavenlyevil @vampnyx @killzenin @diorsbrando @endurablerose @slut-manifesto @screampied

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO/POISEUNS © 2024. originally published April 10, 2021. do not steal, plagiarize, or translate without permission. do not repost or share any of my works where minors have access. art by evok99 on twitter.

#ཐི♰ཋྀ ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐃’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄. ๋࣭ 𖤐 #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #toji smut #reverend toji fushiguro #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fushiguro toji

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exilepurify · 1 year

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I recently re-watched some of the MP100 anime and it's really got me thinking about how horrifying it must have been for Reigen all those times where he could only sit there and wait to hear if Mob was alright. As the audience, we follow Mob around the story, so he's not often absent to the viewers like he is to those who love him.

I've been thinking about season 1—Mob not showing up to work for the first time ever, not answering his phone, and his GPS pinging at a random spot in the middle of the forest outside the city. How must that taxi ride have felt for Reigen, just staring at the red dot on his phone screen, having no idea what he'd find? Sure, he's a powerful psychic, but he's also 14. He's just a boy.

Or during Mogami arc, when Reigen had to sit there next to Mob's body, empty and cold on the tile floor and completely devoid of life or a soul, with no idea when or if he'd return. After Dimple, who knows very well how possession works, had warned him again and again that Mob was dead and never coming home. The fact that when Mob first wakes up back in his body, Reigen was already bent over him, sweating, eyes wide, telling him, “I actually thought you might’ve died.” That was around 45 minutes or an hour for Reigen.

It took 4-5 hours for Reigen, Ritsu, Teru, and Dimple to just lay eyes on Shigeo after the explosion at the end of season 2. 4-5 hours of searching through the rubble after they all watched a massive explosion consume him first-hand. He was buried completely within the broccoli and they only found him once they got a shovel and started digging. How must it have felt, searching for that long and still not knowing if they were going to find him alive? Or those few moments after finding his face buried in the ground, calling out for him again and again without any response or signs of life? Reigen played it off as a joke—“I thought you were a goner back there Mob. Pretty scary!”—but you can hear the fear in their voices when they’re calling for Mob to wake up, and it’s not really a joke.

Or even before that, when Reigen was sprinting his way up hundreds of stairs, gun heavy in his hands, after Dimple told him that Toichiro was intent on mercilessly killing Mob. Walking in and finding him crumpled and broken, held up by his hair. One very quiet, very weak “Ma…ster…” and then he’s unmoving on the ground. Desperately, “Hey…! You still alive, Mob?”

“I’m a pathetic excuse for a master.” Always left waiting until it’s too late. Until Confession Arc, when he finally runs into the fray to bring Mob home himself, just in time.

#today and yesterday have been sad reigen days #thinking about ritsu’s agony here too is also awful #or the kageyama parents #esp in s3 during mob’s arc #neither of her kids are home or answering the phone #i personally know what it feels like to sit and wait #for hours #not knowing if someone you love is okay #wouldn’t wish that on anyone #reigen needs a therapist lol #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #shigeo kageyama #reigen arataka #ritsu kageyama #long post

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sevenseassevenhundredletters · 1 month

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Imagine nanami working out in the gym to get that muscular body. And as he retired from being a sorceror his body begin to return to his natural form.

Married reader x Nanami Kento

These are reader’s thought and feelings about the Changes that They observed watching Nanami’s body change as the years goes by while they are married and living with him.

Au where he didn’t die and retired peacefully 😢.

———————————————————————

When he’s at his prime he’s at his buffest

When he retires his muscle mass gradually decreases and his slim figure slowly regains itself like in his teenage years.

you watch him still work out time to time in the gym even though he doesn’t have to bc he knows you are obsessed with his muscles and would be slightly sad to watch them go.

You assured him there’s no need for him to workout if he doesn’t feel like it. It’s his body and he doesn’t need force himself to do it just for you.You like him regardless. Lean or buff, it’s still nanami.

Living tgt with Nanami has made you realised how much effort he put into his work.He was way slimmer and small framed compared to how he was when he’s still a sorceror. Almost completely different from when you first met him.You never really did know how slim he actually is. ( almost a little jealous as how slim he is without trying.)

As 2 to 3 years passed by, other than a few fine lines appearing on his forehead and a pair of much sunken cheekbones he pretty much still have the same physique in his late twenties.he barely showed any signs of a beer belly, talk about blessed with DNA. Maybe it’s bc of his hard training during his sorceror days, it kept him fit and more resistant to ageing than of that an average person.( do sorcerers age slower and better than most ppl?🤔

Girls of teen and middle age would steal glances at him down the streets just to catch a glimpse of his handsome angular face as he chats with you while you both window shopped. He’s that one charismatic Middle Aged mature man that woman of all ages would fawn over ( and he doesn’t realise how overwhelmingly hot he is.) . You find it funny ( and a little ego booting ) when woman would fangirl over him whenever he passes by only to be disappointed when they saw his long arm hooked around yours.

As time went on further. his muscle mass completely disappeared . Revealing an androgynous look to his features. his legs look like a runway model’s leg .His calves are eccentuated each time he crosses his legs. That one hot summer night when he decides to wear a pair of boxes ( which he never does.)you finally get how men feel when looking at girls legs. It felt like looking at a pair of virgin legs.And you have to stop yourself from running your hands down his soft thighs bc it’s a weeknight and you both have work the next day. ( pity. Bc he never wore those boxes again 😤 he can’t help his shy conservative nature.)

You feel so lucky to wake up to this man everyday in your life. Seeing his body change over the years and studying his figure as he does every little mundane thing is a very interesting hobby you picked up over the years and you plan to keep doing it ( forever most likely) Ageing is an inevitable thing but It doesn’t change how much you view him and his body.even if He doesn’t look the same as he did , even if the years have worn off his beauty, you’d still love him because its him.

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Note I am so tired of writing bc I lost most of the details I wrote as somehow tumblr decided to restart itself when I re opened the app.F*ck you tumblr app. I might rewrite this again bc I’m not satisfied with it and there so many details I couldn’t rmb ( hopefully I eventually do.)

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #七海建人 #nanamin

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imasoftieforbarb · 6 months

Note

Any headcanons for Floyd x Rock Troll!Male and/or GN reader, specifically the reader meeting Floyd's brothers?

Rock male reader meeting Floyd’s brothers

He’s so nervous

I’m gonna imagine that he’s come out to his brothers by this point

But this is gonna be the first time they’re gonna meet his boyfriend

He ends up deciding to organise a family picnic

When his brothers ask why- he tells them he wants to introduce them to someone

Chaos ensues

He’s nervous, you’re scared!

What if they don’t like you? What if his brothers are scared of rock trolls after the past events

Despite being nervous, Floyd reassures you that his brothers are gonna love you

Encourages you to dress up, not dress down

Both of you walk over to where the picnic is being held- a tiny bit late

Floyd was laughing as you told him about how at your bands latest concert, after your last song- your guitarist tried to break his guitar but it ended up bouncing back into his face

You were just in the middle of re-enacting it when everyone came into view

“It literally bounced off the floor into his face it was hilarious!”

“Did it hurt?”

“Well I mean he looked like- oh, uh hi!”

Que nervous Floyd again

You grab his hand and walk over to everyone and take a seat with him

“Hey I’m M/n! It’s cool to meet you finally!”

THE CHAOS ENSUES ONCE MORE

The bros love you-

They watch how you interact with Floyd and simultaneously realise that you are both WHIPPED for each other

Jd definitely starts to tell alllll the embarrassing stories

(You ask for a wallet sized pic of him in his denim suit)

After the picnic you walk back to pop village together

Floyd insists you stay the night because Volcano Rock City is quite a journey back

The minute you leave the room after agreeing he gets teased about that

#x male reader #brozone #brozone x reader #trolls band together #trolls Floyd #trolls Floyd x male reader

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tanniefm · 1 year

Text

christmas & chill | jjk (m)

sequel to all to you

summary - it’s the most happiest time of the year with your needy boy.

pairing - jungkook x reader (f)

genre - established relationship, pwp, fluff

word count - 3.7k

song inspo - the entirety of ariana grande’s ep christmas & chill ofc!

warnings - reader and koo are hopelessly in love sigh, lots of cum, unprotected sex (pls don’t be dumb like them i beg), koo kinda switches lowkey sorry, overstimulation, hint of dacryphilia, koo’s a lil crybaby, extremely needy koo, praise, riding, backshots yayyyy, oral (f receiving), squirting, cum eating, pet names (ur his angel <3), reader is chubby coded (is that a thing? i’m making it a thing), reader suffers from FPS (fat pussy syndrome) whilst jungkook suffers from FDBS (fat dick and balls syndrome) 😞

a/n - a lil gift from me to u ♡ thank u all for all the love. i wanted to post something for christmas as a 2 year anniversary to my first ever fic i posted on here. hope u enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. see u next year!!

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The semester is over, finals are a thing of the past, and your lovely new boyfriend is coming over in 15 minutes. Merry fucking Christmas to you!

Due to finals being obnoxiously cutthroat this year, you’ve barely been able to spend any time with Jungkook. He offered to help you study multiple times, but you felt it would be more responsible to study on your own without any…distractions. You learned from last time that studying with him ends with materials being forgotten and clothes being strewn about. So for two weeks, you put a sex ban on the both of you so that way when you were able to reconnect, it’d be 10x better. Jungkook reluctantly agreed but had a huge pout on his face that you oh so lovingly kissed away. Ever since you two made it official, it’s like all you ever think about is being grossly lovey-dovey with him. In your defense, he makes it a little hard not to. He’s the sweetest boy in the world, of course you wanna shower him with kisses and endless praise and let him pump as much cum into you as his heart desires! The look on his face does you in every single time, just thinking about it is making you squeeze your plush thighs together.

You shake your head to re-focus on the task of getting ready. Your roommate has the same plans as you do with her own significant other so she notified you she’d be gone for the weekend with a sly smile. Fortunately for her, this means she won’t have to hear the headboard banging rhythmically into the wall at 3 am anymore - well, at least for the weekend. You’ve decided to pamper yourself a little before he arrives. Showered, shaved, moisturized, spritz some sweet-smelling perfume, and even put on a little bit of makeup just to make yourself feel extra cute. You put on some fuzzy pink shorts that make your legs and ass look good, and a tank top with Hello Kitty positioned right in the middle of your boobs. You look and feel so fucking good right now. ‘Jungkook’s gonna bust in his pants again,’ you sigh blissfully to yourself. However, tonight you want him to fill you up completely. It’s what you deserve after such a stressful month of non-stop studying and crying over due dates. You give yourself a little smile in the mirror before you walk to the living room to turn on the tv for background noise. Watching movies is the last thing on your mind at the moment.

Your head springs up when you hear melodic taps on the door. Anytime Jungkook knocks, it has to be to the tune of whatever song he was listening to earlier, it’s a habit you’ve always found to be endearing. You skip to the door happily, excited to see your favorite boy.

“Hey angel, I got us- mph,” you interrupt his sentence with a deep kiss. Fuck, you missed him so much. Although you’d never admit it to his face, as he tends to get a bit cocky (which never lasts once you’re on top of him), this sex ban has been torture for you. You made the foolish decision of adding that neither of you was allowed to touch yourselves while you cracked down on studying. So to say you were pent-up was a gross understatement. You parted from him for air and saw how dazed he looked. Pink cheeks and shaky breaths. Just like always.

You smirk and look down at the bags he has in his hands. “You got food? Aww, you’re too sweet, come in! It’s freezing,” you say innocently. You grab the bags of takeout from him and usher him inside. He’d like to blame his rosy face on the cold wind, but you and him both know you just caught him off guard. And turned him on a little. These past couple of weeks have been what Jungkook would imagine hell is like. And then to add the extra challenge of not masturbating? November is over! What happened to Destroy Dick December?? Nevertheless, he’s ecstatic to see you again. He has so much to give you. He knows you can take it, he just wonders if he can. Other than his incessant horniness though, he’s just as excited to curl up with you under your warm weighted sheets and hold and kiss and love you endlessly. He walks inside to see you’ve transformed the living room into a cozy holiday getaway. Fairy lights decorated the tables and doorway, soft music flowed throughout the room, chilled wine set out on the table, and you, looking as gorgeous as ever. God, he’s so in love with you. He wants every holiday season to be spent with you by his side. He plops himself down on the couch and stares at your pretty figure retreating to the kitchen to collect plates and utensils. He notices that you’re wearing the short fuzzy shorts that he likes. The ones where he can clearly see the soft thighs he always imagines rutting himself between. Maybe if he’s good tonight you’ll let him. His dick slowly hardens at the prospect.

You come back with eating materials in hand and sit next to him closely on the couch. “What’s all this for?” he asks distractedly. He notices you’ve also put on the perfume he can’t get enough of. It’s subtle enough to not mess with his sensitive nose but sweet enough to keep him wanting more. He wants all of you. Right now. “I thought I’d make the atmosphere nice and warm for us since it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to be alone together,” you say smiling brightly. You dig into your food ignoring your very erect boyfriend. “You aren’t hungry baby?” you ask with a slight pout. He shakes his head slowly and scans your body up and down, seeing that you’ve foregone a bra. Your nipples poke through the little tank top you’ve thrown on and he desperately wants to lean down and put them in his mouth.

You snicker at how obvious he’s being. You knew he’d get like this as soon as he saw you. You’re surprised he didn’t crumble and fall to his knees the moment you kissed him. There had been many nights throughout these past few weeks where he’d text you alluding to wanting to see you, touch you, taste you, anything. All of which you would shut down and sternly tell him to not touch himself. “The only one that’s making you cum this month is me, do you understand?” you had firmly told him one night. He whimpered and whinily agreed. He’s such a good boy, your good boy.

Now with you right in front of him, looking the way that you do, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. You laugh and swallow the last bite of your food and turn to him. “Ok ok, I get it,” you say as you lean in to kiss him. He immediately wants to deepen it but you push him back before he has the chance. “Don’t you want to make a little toast first?” you don’t think he could get any poutier. “If I drink this wine can we have sex after?” you giddily nod and pour your glasses. “To us,” you clink your glasses together and watch as he hastily downs his whole cup. This is definitely gonna be a long night.

Without even considering letting you finish, he dives in for another long kiss. You smile into it and place your glass on the table to focus your full attention on him. Tongues dancing for dominance that he beautifully succumbs to. You climb on top of him slowly and straddle his firm thighs. You’ll never get over how such a strong man will willingly submit to your every whim. He’s so perfect.

He runs his hands up and down your sides and feels how soft you are. He knows you’ve been insecure about your body in the past, but he’s always loved it. Even before you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d savor any ounce of physical contact with you if it meant he got to feel your tiny squishy self against his lean muscular form. Your thighs squeeze around his hips and you push your heat against his straining bulge. He moans wantonly. This is what he’s been craving. Your warmth on top of him. The only thing that could make this better is you letting him inside of you to feel it completely. He bucks his hips into yours to hint at what he wants. But you know, you’ve known since before he walked into your place. If he had things his way, he would’ve picked you up and taken you on the front door. But he enjoys the teasing and the waiting. He enjoys the thrill of not knowing what’ll happen next. He enjoys anything you’ll allow him.

Your kisses descend upon his jaw and neck as his cold hands fiddle with the hem of your tank top. He gives you a pleading look, silently asking if he can take it off, which causes you to nod as an affirmative. He quickly takes it off and leans back to do the same to his own shirt. Seeing his bare chest will forever be a treat for you. You're sure he could say the same if his ogling of your boobs is anything to go by. “You’re so pretty,” he sighs. His pupils dilate as he softly squeezes them in his hands. “Wanna suck on them,” he mumbles. You giggle and tell him to go ahead which he does swiftly. There’s something lethargic about watching him suck and play with your nipples. Even when not in a sexual context, he likes to have you in his mouth absentmindedly. You’re starting to think it’s become a comfort thing for him. He looks so at peace. His cold fingers contrast his warm tongue and it only adds to your pleasure. You rock against him harder which causes him to part from your nipples to whine.

“Please- please can I be inside of you? I need it, I’m so full angel please,” he rushes out. “You wanna fill me up baby?” you respond gently, cupping his face with your hands. His doe eyes framed by your fresh set of acrylics is such a pretty sight to see. He nods and whispers another please. He looks so good when he begs. You wish you could take a mental screenshot of this moment.

You get up to discard your shorts and lacy pink panties while he impatiently just tugs his pants and boxers down to his knees. You’ve decided he’s had enough teasing for the night and quickly guide his throbbing length inside your embarrassingly wet pussy. He lets out a sob as you bottom out on him completely. You give yourself a brief second to adjust and let him recuperate from everything that happened in the last 60 seconds or so. You give him a small peck and ask if he’s ready, to which he replies with a soft yes and squeezes your hips for emphasis. With that, you slowly lift your hips and plop back down with a quickness. He’s so fucking big; not only is he long, but he’s slightly thick too. He’s always leaving your poor pussy sore but he fills you so fucking well you can’t find it in you to care. You set a fast pace as you’re overcome with your own need to feel good. You can’t wait for him to cum inside you. The moment you told him you were on birth control and that you were ok with him finishing inside he almost lost his mind. You’ve come accustomed and even excited to feel his love filling you in the most physical way.

His hands grip your hips firmly as he throws his head back and takes the pleasure he’s receiving. You’re squeezing around him tightly and bouncing up and down on him so swiftly, he feels like he’s basking in the glows of heaven. “Ahh ____ you’re gonna milk it out of me fuck,” he moans loudly. His voice tends to heighten in pitch whenever he’s close and his eyes start to water as if he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. This however, only encourages you to get him there quickly. You wanna see tears streak down his face as he releases two weeks’ worth of cum inside of you. You bet he has so much. It might even overflow. With this thought, you move even faster, telling him to keep his eyes on you. “Don’t close your eyes baby, I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum inside me ok?” you tell him. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, but the tears in his eyes cloud his vision. He blinks profusely in an attempt to clear them. He wants you to be the only thing he sees. He’s gonna cum any second now. It feels too good, you’re overwhelming his senses and he can’t hold it anymore. “____! I- fuck I’m cumming I’m cumming I”m sorry I can’t hold it,” his revere breaks as you feel spurts of warm cum release deep in your heat. You gasp and furrow your brows as you halt your movement. Pleasure racks through both of your bodies as you both cum together. You rock your hips back and forth to ride it out but it only causes him to whine loudly in overstimulation. He wants to go again. He still has more to give you.

“Keep going please I still have more,” he says breathily. Unfortunately for him, you are far too tired to keep riding him. Your legs are sore and you’ve frankly overexerted yourself. ‘Maybe I should take up on his offers on going to the gym,’ you think offhandedly. You place your head next to his ear and pant, “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Do whatever you want.” It’s almost as if a flip switches in his brain as he’s given permission to fuck you in any way he pleases. At this, he grips his hips and lifts you up slightly to pound his cock into you. His balls slap against your soft pussy as he sets a quick pace. You feel like a little doll with the way he fucks into you. You can’t help but notice that even when he’s fucking you like this, manhandling you into any position he wants, he’s still whining and looking at you with complete and utter adoration. He pulls you in to give you a sloppy kiss as he cums for the second time that night. He moans into your mouth as you feel the tears that seem to continuously fall from his eyes on your cheeks. He pulls away to give you both a chance to breathe.

His forehead rests against yours as he gasps for breath. You feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Kookie..are you still-” you stop yourself as he buries his head into your chest and cries. “M’ sorry I just- I missed you so much. I’ve been wanting this so bad angel. I just wanna fuck you over and over again. I’ve been saving it all for you. Just like you told me to,” he sobs into you. Your poor baby, he’s been suffering more than you thought he has. You wonder how he would’ve coped had you not have added the dumb “no touching yourself” to your little challenge. Probably by stroking himself to the thought of you every night. You clench at the thought. He lifts his head with widened eyes. You didn’t cum! And he did! How selfish could he be? He gently lifts you off of him and lays you back on the couch. He gives you a big, loving kiss and makes his way downwards. “Wait! Not on the couch, this shit is hard to clean,” you hurriedly say. He smiles bashfully and picks you up to carry you to your room.

It’s like you weigh nothing to him, a sentiment that makes you blush and giggle into his neck. He smiles and pecks your head before he flops you down on your soft sheets (that’ll definitely need to be washed thoroughly once he’s done with you). He gets down on his knees and looks up at you. You are nothing but a goddess in his eyes. The love of his life. He’ll do anything for you. You stare back at him and card your nails through his hair, gazing at him tenderly. This is exactly how it should be. Him on his knees staring up at you in awe, and you, pushing his head straight to your cum-filled pussy. You’d laugh if he didn’t instantly wrap his lips around your swollen clit.

He runs his tongue up and down your cunt, cleaning it the best he can whilst simultaneously trying to get you to climax on his tongue. He fucks his tongue into you as he brings his chilly fingers to your clit. You yelp and moan loudly. “Fuck yes, just like that baby. That’s so good,” you praise. His bright eyes look up at you as he rubs your slick bud in circular motions, his tongue never stopping its pace inside. He parts from between your thighs briefly to whisper to you “Please cum for me angel. Wanna make you feel good,” and goes back to eating you with intent. That does it for you, you see a burst of white behind your eyelids as you cum messily on his face. This has got to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, as you can’t stop shaking and trembling. He kisses your shaky thighs and caresses them softly to bring you back down.

He kisses his way back up to your face to check if you’re ok. “You alright?” he asks delicately. He pecks all over your face as he sees you slowly but surely come back to him. When your eyes flutter open, you’re shocked to see that his face is drenched. “Did I…,” he smiles brightly and nods. “I made you squirt angel,” he says with a grin. He’s lucky he’s cute, otherwise you’d be extremely annoyed with his cockiness. He looks so proud of himself though, so you’ll let it slide this one time. While you’d love to just pass out and deal with the mess later, you can’t help but notice the incessant hardness poking your stomach. “One more?” you question. He pouts once more and nods with pleading eyes. “Just one more, I promise,” he says. You relent and turn over on your stomach, maybe if he goes easy on you, you can even rest a little while he reaches his peak. But this is Jungkook, of course that’s not going to happen.

He grips your hips and hikes your ass up to get you into just the position he wants. He’s kind enough to put a pillow underneath you so as to not strain your back as much. The tip of his cock has been leaking ever since he got on his knees to eat your pretty pussy that he loves, and the throbbing was starting to become painful. He runs his dick through your folds to slicken himself up and whimpers when the tip catches onto your slit. With a soft kiss to your back, he thrust himself inside. Since he’s eaten you and stretched you so thoroughly, there’s no need for you to adjust, so he starts jackhammering into your cunt right away. He still feels so full, he loves the sound of his fat balls pounding away your plush little pussy. When he feels this good, he can’t seem to keep quiet.

“Mmmm this is so good, so fucking good. I’m so sorry baby, I can’t stop. I wanna fill you over and over. Look so pretty with my cum stuffed inside of you,” and here come the waterworks. He’s so sensitive, fucking you like this almost hurts. But he can’t stop, not until he’s completely empty. His thrusts are nothing short of quick and concise. He loves when you let him use you like this. Nothing but sounds of your wetness, his balls pattering against your bud, and the sounds of your combined moans run throughout the small apartment. You’re definitely gonna get another noise complaint.

“Baby, you can slow down it’s ok, don’t overwork yourself,” you plead. His tears almost make you want to stop him altogether and give him a chance to calm down. Jungkook, on the other hand, has no intentions on stopping. “No! I can’t, I need to keep going! Please don’t make me stop I wanna cum again please please please,” he sobs. He’s so close, he can feel it swirling in his stomach. He just needs a little more and then he can finally milk all the cum he’s been saving for you out of him. You, incidentally, are close to cumming too. In fact, you’re learning that this feeling you’re experiencing is that you’re about to squirt again. “Koo- oh my god, I- baby I’m gonna-” you stumble. “Me too, me too, fuck. Let go angel, make a mess on me again,” he rushes out as his thrusts increase. He spits on his fingers and runs them along your hard little bud. You try to muffle your scream into your pillows as you release all over his chest and your sheets. Seeing and feeling you squirt all over him causes him to reach his climax as well. He pumps every last bit of cum that he has inside your battered pussy as he thanks you profusely. Just as you expected, it overflows and drips back down your thighs. Jungkook collapses as softly as he can on top of you as you both breathe heavily. His cock finally softens and he reluctantly pulls it out as gently as he can.

As he heavily plops himself down next to you, he sees that you’ve knocked out, already snoring lightly. He chuckles and pulls you into his chest. “Thank you angel. I love you, so so much,” he whispers. This is exactly what he wanted for Christmas. You safe in his arms and full of his cum.

#sub!jungkook #sub!jungkook x dom!reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #switch!jungkook

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