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buckyalpine · 8 months

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Bucky knows you’re faking

Bucky knows you’re faking. He has no idea where you met this guy or why you’re still with him, in fact Bucky almost feels sorry for him. Because this guy thinks he’s doing a good job. He thinks he’s making you cry from pleasure, he thinks he’s pulling orgasms from you left right and center but Bucky knows.

Becuase he’s heard you. Fucking smelled you.

In your room, all by yourself.

He hears every moan and whimper, all those noises you can’t hold back. The filthy squelching of your pussy making a mess on the sheets is a sound unmatched. You always smell so good after and he can’t get over how soft and sweet you are, all fucked out with a quiver in your voice, not realizing he knows exactly what you’ve been up to with those pretty fingers between your legs.

He’s seen the way you practically glow afterwards, a shy smile on your face, acting like you weren’t moaning like a bitch in heat minutes ago. Always when it’s well past midnight, coming down for a snack, a thin sheen of sweat still covering your skin. He’s usually in the kitchen, having to pretend his cock isn’t aching after hearing how pretty you sound, how desperate and loud you get when you think no one can hear you.

But he can.

Bucky grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, smirking when he heard your less than enthusiastic sounds and silence a few minutes later. He watched carefully as you made your way into the kitchen with nothing but a flimsy robe covering you, eyes growing wide when you realized you weren’t alone.

“Have a fun night?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, struggling to keep his eyes on your face and not the loose knot, so close to letting your robe fall open, giving him access to that pretty body-

“Oh-yes” you shrugged, suddenly feeling hot all over realizing Bucky had probably heard you, “I-um-I don’t think I’ll see him again”

“Why not” Bucky prodded, his curiosity piqued, self-restraint faltering, he couldn't hold back, not when that poor excuse of a robe was begging to be ripped off. “He can’t make you cum, can he princess”

“What?” You stared at Bucky like a deer caught in headlights, frozen on the spot, mouth gaping while he chuckled.

“I said-” he got up from his place at the kitchen island, biting his lip while backing you against the counter, your eyes growing wide feeling his hard, poorly contained bulge press onto you. "He can't make you cum? Can he?"

“I-" You stammered, gripping onto the edge of the counter, surely you were dreaming, there's no way this was really happening, all the fantasies you've thought of coming to life-

“Oh baby” Bucky cooed at your flustered state, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Don’t get all shy on me now bunny. Was that it? Did he make you cum?”

You shook your head, still nearly frozen like a baby deer, whimpering when Bucky groaned, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Knew you were faking it princess, I've heard you, y'know" Bucky smirked at your gasp, clearly mortified that he'd heard you during your most intimate moments. "Y'sound so pretty when you touch yourself baby"

"Bucky" You whined, not sure what you were begging for, arousal pooling between your legs, spreading your knees slightly to press yourself against his thigh.

"Tell me to stop" his jaw was clenched, gripping onto the single strange of restraint he had, his fingers toying with the knot of your robe.

"D-don't stop" You let out a shuddered breath, shivering when your robe was thrown off before you could blink, Bucky's lips smashing onto yours. His hand gripped the back of your neck, his tongue claiming your mouth as his, teeth nipping and sucking your lip. He lifted you onto the cool marble counter with ease, metal fingers swiping through your folds, gathering your slick before shoving them in his mouth, groaning at the taste.

"You're fuckin' sweet bunny" He didn't give you a chance to respond, prying your thighs apart and dipping down to lick a fat stripe through your soaked cunt before latching onto your clit. You cried out in pleasure, his wide shoulders keeping your legs spared apart.

"B-Bucky!!" Your head was thrown back when he shoved two fingers into you, curling and fucking them into you, moaning when you grabbed onto the roots of his hair, tugging harder the closer you got.

"Already sound so pretty baby" He let out a dark chuckle, kissing your pouty face when he pulled away just before you reached your high, tugging down his sweats to pull his cock out, "Bet you'd sound even better when you're stuffed, hm?"

"Please" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, practically humping yourself on him, desperate to be filled. His cock was curved towards his tummy, the swollen head dripping with precum. There was something about him still being fully dressed while you were stark naked in the middle of the kitchen that aroused you more, knowing damn well anyone could walk by at any given moment.

"You need a fat cock to cum around, don't you bunny? My bunny's such a little slut, she can't cum unless she has a fat cock fucking her brains out?" He taunted, loving the way you were nothing more than a babbling mess already, moaning when you felt his tip catch against your fluttering entrance.

"Please Bucky, need it"

"I know baby, I know, my poor baby needs cock, doesn't she" His eyes locked with yours as he started to breech your tight hole, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch.

"Breathe, s'just me baby, swear you got my cock so hard-shit" He hissed as he pushed himself to the hilt, pulling out at an agonizing slow pace, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"Faster Bucky, please-please need you" You tried to get him to move but he shook his head, feeling you flutter around him.

"First tell me what you call be princess, what do you call me when you're all alone with these sweet fingers"

Had Bucky not been holding onto you, you would have fainted; you had no idea he'd also heard the nights where you desperately moaned and came over and over again thinking of him. Bucky smirked against your skin, slowing down the drag of his cock again, snapping his hips suddenly making you squeal.

“C’mon darling, what was that you called me”

“DADDYY” you wailed, wrapping your thighs around his waist when he stated to pound you with a bruising grip around your waist, the clinks of glasses in the cupboards growing louder the harder he fucked you on the counter. "OH-GOD-D-DADDY"

"That's right, daddy's fuckin' you baby, makes me so hard when you call me that" Bucky groaned, thrusting faster, already on the brink of an orgasm. He could feel his cock swell each time you moaned or whimpered, his hand sneaking down to rub your clit.

"N'look at this precious clit, s'this what you're always playing with baby? Always rubbing this needy little button, thinking on one can hear you?"

"F-fuck Buckyyyy" Your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your cheeks when he rubbed you faster, your first orgasm choking his cock without warning. You couldn't formulate words, letting out silent screams, blinking pleasure consuming you.

"That's it baby, moan for me, cum for me, cum for your daddy baby, know you've never cum for anyone else, go on n'cum for daddy, make daddy proud" Bucky looked feral, grunting with each thrust, desperately holding off his own orgasm, needing to feel you cum around him over and over again.

"OH-DADDY-D-DON'T ST-STOPP"

"Look at you baby, such a good girl for daddy, giving daddy all of her cum" Bucky's eyes were wild, staring at where he cock split you open, his length and trimmed hair covered in your creamy mess. "Daddy wants all of his baby's cream sweets"

"OH FUCCCKK" You wailed, your juices squirting all over his crotch, making it impossible for Bucky to hold off any more as you clung into him.

"So fuckin' proud of you baby, made daddy's cock feel so good, y'know that? Y'make daddy so hard, so horny, you're gonna make daddy cum so hard angel, m'gonna cum so hard for you, Fuck-gonna fill you up bunny-take it-take my cum-fuck-FUCCKK" Bucky roared against your neck as streams of cum started to fill you, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. You were limp in his hold, passed out from pleasure, your combined mess dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

You didn't even realize you were tucked under the warmed blankets, wrapped up in a pair of thick, muscular arms, Bucky's large chest acting as a pillow. You nuzzled into him while he softly petted you hair, blissfully unaware it was just the start of a very long night.

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in-som-niyah · 1 month

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GirlDad!Jason who supports you all throughout your pregnancy; holding your hair when you get sick, rubbing your sore feet and ankles, holding you through cramps/braxton hicks, buying you everything you craved etc.

GirlDad!Jason who cried for hours after she was born. His little girl, just as beautiful as you, all bundled up in soft blankets. He never believed he could love someone so much, it was like his entire body was burning with love and compassion for this little bean in his arms. For once, the world stopped, just for him.

GirlDad!Jason drives the most carefully he ever has in his life when coming back from the hospital. Despite your incessant giggling about how you've never seen him so scared, he drove like a damn senior citizen. He was carrying the most precious cargo, could you blame him?

GirlDad!Jason who changes diapers, feeds, bathes and plays with your daughter. He never leaves her for more than 5 minutes, and is involved to the point of mild annoyance. You would put your daughter down for 5 seconds and return to her gone, and in his arms. It's the most adorable thing though, you wouldn't trade it for the world.

GirlDad!Jason who can't stand to see your daughter upset. It's a trait he developed when she got to the toddler age, always fussing about everything she can't have and Jason giving in. Every time.

GirlDad!Jason who cries on her first day of kindergarten. Would never admit it though, but he hates seeing her grow up. He dreaded the day she learned how to tie her shoes and zip up her coat independently. It makes him feel like she doesn't need him anymore :(

GirlDad!Jason who will, without fail, play princesses, hair salon, tea party and barbies with his daughter. It doesn't matter if the world needs saving or if Bruce is up his ass, his daughter comes second to nothing. Even if it's to kiss a minor booboo she got while running around the house.

GirlDad!Jason who always brings back little trinkets and toys for his daughter. Her bedroom will be cluttered with stuffed animals and shiny things that caught his eye or reminded him of her. She would anticipate his key in the door which meant daddy brought home something for her. No matter how old she gets, he won't stop.

GirlDad!Jason who absolutely fucks up bullies. Be it in kindergarten or in college, Jason will make sure she and her friends are never bothered again. I cannot disclose his methods for legal reasons.

GirlDad!Jason who doesn't freak out about periods. He's so loving and supportive and doesn't ever make her feel ashamed about it. He'll bring her tea, hot chocolate, hot water bottles, painkillers, heating pads and rub her back if she's in a lot of pain. He'll take the day off to stay with her, and never force her to go to school on those days.

GirlDad!Jason who absolutely spoils his daughter shamelessly. Mom said no more sweets? Well dad sure isn't going to place a bag of candy under her pillow the next day. She wants a car for her 16th birthday? His baby gets a pink Porsche with a bow on top. She's obsessed with X artist? All the merch in the world miraculously ends up in her room.

GirlDad!Jason who will tower menacingly over her first partner. It doesn't matter how much you or your daughter like them, Jason's imagining a thousand ways to hide their dismembered body.

GirlDad!Jason who needs to be talked down from killing said partner when he finds his daughter balled up in a crying mess on her bed when they break up. Nobody makes his precious girl sad. He'll definitely egg their house without your knowledge. He buys her everything she could ever ask for to make her feel better, no matter how stupidly expensive.

GirlDad!Jason who's always up to a conversation. No matter how embarrassing or personal, he'll listen and give honest advice. Because he's so open, your daughter almost never hides anything from him.

GirlDad!Jason who bawls after dropping her off at university. Again, would never admit it, but sleeps on the floor of her bedroom for the first month she's away. He can't help but miss his little (adult) girl. He also flips through pictures and videos on his phone of when your daughter was little and sheds a few tears. Honestly it only makes you love him more.

GirlDad!Jason who still doesn't like your daughter's college partner. He's better this time around, but still. Don't put murder past him. Yet.

GirlDad!Jason who cries when your daughter shows him her shiny new engagement ring. He's so excited yet terrified. His baby girl is all grown up now.

GirlDad!Jason who walks your daughter down the isle with the brightest smile on his face. He slowly comes around to liking her fiancé(é) and honestly wishes them well.

GirlDad!Jason who meets your daughter at the hospital, ready to meet his new granddaughter for the first time. He holds her in his arms, just like he did his daughter, and gleams knowing the cycle is repeating itself. He couldn't be more excited.

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a/n: sequel to this post i guess??? i needed something cute with jason and his daughter bc..... well..... we don't talk about my own father :D

night night guys

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason peter todd #red hood #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #dcu #jason todd comfort #robin jason todd #dc robin #dad jason todd #daddy issues lol #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight #in som niyah

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dancingbirdie · 6 months

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I interrupt your daily schedules to present some purely plotless Astarion x gn! Reader smut. Courtesy of me listening to an oldie but goodie "What's My Name" by Rihanna ft. Drake during my morning commute.

Note that this is seriously NSFW so don't read below the break line unless you're a horny little gremlin like this pair or me since yeah I wrote it. :)

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

The Things We Could Do in Twenty Minutes…

Rating: MATURE

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Oral sex (Astarion receiving), hand kink, slight praise kink, slight dom!Astarion/sub!Reader, public sex/exhibitionism

Summary: You and Astarion have been tasked with a scouting mission. You grow a little bored from waiting around and very horny watching Astarion play with his knife.

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The two of you were leaning side by side against the alley wall. Watching. Waiting. Poised to strike whenever your quarry exited the tavern across the street.

But it was late. You had been skulking about for hours. You were bored.

And Astarion, gods damn him, was flush against you, smelling like temptation and sin. Subtle wafts of his signature bergamot, rosemary, and brandy scent teased your nose as his fingers idly spun his blade around in his hands.

Your breath hitched as you watched him. Watched how gracefully those long, slender fingers absently played with the knife while his eyes scanned the street for any signs of activity. He was totally oblivious to your ogling, which was good because you could swear you were starting to salivate just watching him toy with his weapon.

You wondered how those fingers would feel scratching against your scalp. Pulling your hair. Clasping your jaw.

Fuck it, you thought. Throwing caution to the wind, you reached a hand forward to caress his chest. His head whipped around immediately to look at you, brow furrowed. It was an innocent enough gesture, but his eyes caught the look on your face, illuminated dimly in the silvery light of the moon. How your pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust.

He smirked, one delicate fang peeking out from between his lips.

“Can I help you?” he drawled.

“You can actually,” you whispered. Your hand lightly traced down his chest, down his abdomen, before it stopped at the bindings of his trousers.

You looked up at him beneath your lashes, your eyes beseeching.

“My, my,” Astarion chuckled, his voice like silk. “Wanting to play while we’re on the clock? Tsk. What would our comrades think?”

“It’ll make our cover seem more convincing, don’t you think?” you reasoned, licking your lips as you noticed the growing bulge between his legs. “Just two unassuming lovers, swept up in a moment of passion as they passed this dingy alley?”

“Our target should be leaving any moment now, darling. We wouldn’t want to miss our window of opportunity.”

“I give it at least twenty minutes before the tavern closes. And just think, the things we could do in twenty minutes…”

He gave a throaty laugh. “You make a very convincing argument. How could I ever deny you?”

“Is that a yes then?” your voice was husky, struggling to contain the urge to drop to your knees and taste him. You would wait for his consent. Of course you would wait. But you couldn’t deny the heady desires ratcheting up within you.

“Yes,” he cooed, nuzzling your neck and planting a quick kiss against the fang marks he’d left earlier that evening. “Go on then, love.”

“Thank the gods,” you groaned, immediately kneeling before him and undoing the bindings of his breeches.

You captured him in your mouth as soon as his impressive length sprang free, tasting the salt and musk of him as you took him as far back as your throat would allow. Your eyes watered with the pressure of him pressing down your throat. It was the sweetest pain.

You heard the muffled thump of his head as it hit the brick wall. You relished the tortured groan that spilled from his lips as you continued to gorge yourself on him.

Then a moan of your own vibrated against him as his hands moved to grip your hair. His fingers scratching against your scalp nearly had your eyes rolling back into your head. With your hands braced on his thighs, you continued to bob your head, sucking, licking and swallowing around him.

He tasted like the purest drug you could ever inject into your veins. You would never tire of doing this for him. Of hearing and feeling how your mouth and tongue caused him to shiver and quake with pleasure. You could feel your own release building because of it, despite the lack of any stimulation to your groin. It didn’t matter.

You had no desire for anything but Astarion’s pleasure tonight.

“Look at me,” he growled suddenly. You felt his fingers clutch your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his eyes.

You peered up at him as you continued to piston your mouth around his length, whining softly as you beheld the look in his eyes.

“I want you to look at me while I cum in that gorgeous, sinful mouth,” he whispered, his hips beginning to buck into you, meeting your movements in perfect synchrony.

You moaned again at his words, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum as you continued to suck him.

“Are you ready, darling?” he murmured, his other hand reverently stroking your hair. A stark contrast to the absolutely deplorable things you were doing to his cock.

You gave a garbled assent, taking him in with a surge of passion as you anticipated the feeling of his release shooting down your throat.

A few moments more and your anticipation was rewarded in full. You groaned as you heard him grunt. Felt his final, feral thrust into your mouth. Tasted the salty sweetness of his cum on your tongue.

As he came down from his high, you gave him one last, obscene lick before removing your mouth. Slouching against the wall, utterly spent, he watched as you deliberately met his eyes and swallowed his cum with a gulp. He hummed his approval, grinning wickedly.

“You naughty thing,” he crooned. “You’ll be the death of us both.”

You returned his grin with an impish one of your own before wiping your mouth clean on the sleeve of your shirt and rising to stand next to him once more.

You surveyed the street. Scanned the tavern for signs of movement. Nothing was amiss. Your quarry hadn’t escaped.

“See?” you murmured, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Twenty minutes was all I needed.”

***

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generalsmemories · 9 months

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An Immortal's Delight

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: i think jing yuan just needs someone to kiss his worries away to survive another day tbh, he deserves that.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, smooches and kisses in the bathtub (scandalous), he's just a tired baby please let him rest and get some cuddles and a pat on his fluffy head. spoilers for the main story in 1.2

✧ a/n: enough attempts on angst as the main genre i want my man happy again for like 3 posts before i attempt again, and i know ya'll want it too. it's cheesy, but HE NEEDS TO HAVE CHEESY MOMENTS PLEASE HE'S BEEN SUFFERING EVERYWHERE ELSE.

Jing Yuan has been submerging himself in the bath without answering your calls long enough for you to grow concernerd. You contemplate for a bit, there's still scrolls of unfinished work sitting by the dining table that you had brought from the Realm-Keeping Commission along with two plastic bags of Immortal's Delight that you bought on a whim while on your way home staring back at you.

Yanqing's not at home. The paperwork can also wait until he's out of the bath and in bed sleeping, and there's no pressing matters at hand for the both of us currently either- with those reasons in mind, you take another sip from your own immortal's delight to savor the taste while it's still cold before walking up to the bathroom door and opening it slowly.

You're immediatey hit with a wave of steam, barely able to make out Jing Yuan's figure amidst the mist. Your husband having an elbow propped up at the edge of the bathtub while resting his cheek on his closed fist. If he heard you come in he doesn't react, eyes closed while the water from the tap still runs, having long flowed over the edge.

Jing Yuan isn't behaving like his usual self lately - not after fate had toyed him like this to make him use two of his ones dearest friends whom he had had once released years back for the sake of Luofu. You can tell, you can see it in the wry smile he sports every day, you can see it in his eyes that flicker with the tiniest of emotions whenever he reports back to you for you to record and in his voice that wavers a tiny bit when he addresses his two old friends as names that are foreign to him.

He's the same general in everyone else's eyes, but in your eyes he's reverted back to his younger self who took on a role far too burdensome on his shoulders all those years ago. He can hide it beneath every meticulous plan and carefully thought out strategies, but you always see through him. You had back then, and you have now as well.

You strip off of your outer robes which leaves you in an undershirt whilst you slowly walk up to him. Making yourself comfortable by the edge of the bathtub, your fingers find the red ribbon that situates his long ponytail and pull it off.

"Darling," you hum, "If you're going to let yourself turn into a prune in here, at least make sure that the ribbon also comes off no?" your hand rests on his left cheek, a silent sign to make him look at you. And Jing Yuan is always obedient around you, opening his eyes to direct his gaze towards you. His other hand comes up to wrap loosely around your own hand, holding it still while he turns his head around to press his lips against your palm, "I would still be quite a handsome prune though, no?" he jokes with an empty chuckle - you're pretty sure his laughs have sounded empty since the stellaron incident first started.

"Debatable," you whisper, gently pulling your hand away to grip the edge of the bathtub, instead leaning down to press your lips against his cheek, "But you would most definitely be the most handsome prune in my eyes."

"That's a relief," he huffs playfully - although there's no playful tone present in his voice. It's numb and automatic, a trained response fitting of the general Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu. It could've fooled every other person, but not you. He can't fool you after all.

"I thought you had passed out in here, you were taking that long," you emphazise, lips moving from his cheek to kiss across his face, settling on pressing your lips a bit longer on the mole underneath his eyes.

"Mmm, sorry dear," he leans away from his fist, letting you cup his face between your hands while his right arm drops limply over the edge of the bathtub, "It was pretty comfortable in here that I lost track of time."

He never loses track of time.

"Jing Yuan," you call out gently, "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He doesn't answer immediately, instead averting his eyes from your own as he grows quiet. He's probably contemplating an answer, if you were anyone else he could've easily breezed past the question with a mere acknowledgement that he's fine, but it's you. You're always able to figure him out as fast as his own foresight is able to foresee a necessary plan for a better tomorrow.

He still tries, "I'm fine," he ends up saying, "Just tired," he opens his mouth to add on more details, as if to prove to you he's really just tired, but no sound comes out.

"I know," you whisper, bringing your hand further up his face to brush his bangs away to bump your forehead gently against his, "I know you're tired, dear. But what's gotten you more tired than usual?"

Gently, he lifts a hand from the water up to your wrist. And you're already aware it's a silent request, to which you answer with a small smile and a nod. With a light tug, you get dragged down into the bathtub with your legs dangling over the edge. Jing Yuan had immediately buried his face into your neck, letting out a shuddering breath.

There's no people to care for in this small space, there's no general duties to attend to here and no setting aside his personal feelings or using old connections for his people. In this small space, there's only the feeling of your soft skin against his and the warm press of your lips on his head.

Just like back then after he had come back from defeating his master, after he had witnessed the deaths of his closer friends in battle and the punishment given to another. You're always there at the end of the day - waiting for him.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, dear?" you implore once again, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"As much as I'm able to keep it hidden at the heat of the moment," he whispers into your neck, taking another shaky breath to which you pat his naked back for, whispering for him to breathe. "I do admit that I once again had a bit of a youthful hope to bring something back from the past that I knew was not plausible."

You merely press your lips to his temple, aware that he's not finished talking judging by the way he takes another deep breath that ends in a low chuckle - a chuckle that sounded a tiny bit more genuine than his previous one.

"... And I think I can still feel the aftermaths of the fight against Phantylia."

"... Well that's no good," you hum. You've been very much aware that Jing Yuan is still recovering from the last battle against Phantylia. His body still weak and food even harder to consume. The little he does consume end up getting thrown back up because: "It feels like my insides are having a battle of its own still," which makes it harder to get Bailu's prescribed medicine down his throat.

You run your fingers down his back a couple of times before leaning away to pull his head out of your neck - he tries to protest, wanting to stay nestled in your neck so he can live inside the personal bubble you've created away from reality. But you're too insistent, gently coaxing him with small pats to his head until Jing Yuan finds himself staring back into your eyes. "In what way can you feel the aftermath?"

He's staring at your lips, "There's a vile taste in my mouth."

Your lips are immediately slotting over his own after that. It's soft, but sweeter than usual. He can taste a hint of brown sugar on your tongue, and perhaps it's because he's not directly consuming it, but he finds it easier to want more. So he leans in for more, grabbing the back of your neck to push you further into him. More, he needs more.

"You're going to swallow me up whole at this rate," you say with a giggle, parting slightly away from his lips and giving them a brief peck when he leaned slightly further into you, "But how did that taste?" you question.

"It tastes like someone's had an Immortal's Delight before coming in here," he jests, "It's good, I like that," he confirms before settling his forehead back on your shoulder.

"That's good, maybe I should drink more of them then before kissing you silly. I'm sure whatever you're eating now paired with Bailu's medicine won't give your tastebuds the best of flavors."

"That would make eating and drinking them a lot easier for my part," he mumbles from your shoulder, "Would have something to look forward to, being that Lady Bailu bans me from drinking such sugary treats at the moment."

You chuckle at the hint of sadness present in his voice, once again wrapping your arms around his shoulders so his senses are filled with your scent. Only then does his shoulders sink in relief - And you know that Jing Yuan will be fine for another day again.

"I can't guarantee that tomorrow will be any better from today," you mumble, "Neither can I guarantee that you won't be faced with a past that you were forced to move on from too soon for the sake of the Luofu," you let go of him to climb out of the bathtub, ignoring your clothes sticking to your skin as you extend a hand towards the man before you who meekly grabs it - squeezing your hand hard upon contact.

"I can however, guarantee that I'll be there waiting at the end of the day every time," you grab one of the fresh towels by the shelves to throw over his head, ruffling his hair slightly, "And take care of you when you want to just be Jing Yuan, and not the Arbiter General of the Luofu," you declare with a smile, "And kiss the vile taste of medicine in your mouth with the flavors of immortal's delight."

Before you can turn around again to grab a new towel to pat your clothes dry, Jing yuan tugs at your wrists and pulls you towards him. A hand coming up to cup your cheek before he bends slightly down to kiss you hard and hungrily. Kissing you breathless like you're all he has left - from back then and now in the present.

He can still taste the sugary drink on your lips - He wants to keep tasting them, he has quite a sweet tooth after all.

"I like the taste of immortal's Delight," he says, pressing his forehead against yours while he gazes at you softly, "So I hope you bought some for me too."

"I did, you can afford one cheat day," you grin, bringing both hands to cup his cheeks before pinching them, "But knowing you, you would still claim it tastes better on my lips, no?"

i- i'm. can someone tell i really love this man. like i want to wrap him in a blanket and say everything's going to be okay, that he can rest now because he's done his job and way more. that he deserves rest as much as the next person- i can volunteer to do that. please.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader insert

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xxsabitoxx · 3 months

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Steam Room

Megumi x Female Reader

Warnings: Megumi and reader are around 22-24 in this, public sex, submissive megumi, edging megumi, switch megumi, dominant reader, submissive reader, it’s a whirlwind okay. Blowjobs, handjobs, come eating, rough sex, restraining, humiliation, creampies, possibility of getting walked in on, sweat… yeah

A/N: third scheduled post! Again, you may have already seen this on my ao3 cause I posted it a few weeks back. Still, enjoy!

Word count: 3.5k

The room was thick with steam, your bodies sticky from the sweat clinging to them. “Shit…oh fuck please…” choked and embarrassed, Megumi’s face was flushed red from more than just the sauna. Your head was bobbing steadily along the length of his aching cock, violently twitching in the warm cavern of your mouth every time your tongue passed over the head. Despite the heat of the room, your mouth was somehow hotter.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Megumi’s voice was slightly higher in pitch, whiny even, as your tongue slid along the underside of his cock. He was growing desperate at this point, you had led him to the brink of coming three times now, cruelly stopping just before he reached the end. You felt your lips twitching with the urge to smirk, unable to as your head continued to move up and down around him. “S-seriously don’t fucking sto-oh.” You pulled away again, wiping your mouth with a sadistic grin.

Megumi looked pissed, brows creased and lips wobbling as his cock twitched, precum weeping from his tip at yet another failed orgasm. “Stop fucking doing that.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. For a moment you actually felt pity, meeting his watery gaze through the steam of the sauna room. “You’ve been such a naughty boy, Megumi.” He looked down at you with a pout on his face, clearly confused and disgruntled. “You don’t even know what you did?”

“What I did–” Megumi rasped out, plump lips hanging open as he stared at you with furrowed brows. “Oh…” It came back to him then, fond memories of him doing the exact same thing to you no less than two days prior. “T-this is my payback for…” he gasped as your fist tightened around his shaft, tugging hard and slow. “Payback for tying me to our bed and edging me for two fucking hours.” Megumi hissed as you tugged particularly rough, pleasure shooting all the way up his spine as your pretty hand toyed with his already too sensitive cock.

“L-Listen I-I…oh fuck…oh…” His head fell back, skin glistening with sweat as his hips nearly jerked off the bench. You watched, fully enthralled by the sight of his throat bobbing and jaw clenching as he tried not to make a complete fool of himself. “Listen to what, Megumi?” again, just as quickly as you started, you stopped. Megumi’s tip was turning an angry shade of pink, irritated from the contant relief being tugged away from him when he least expected it.

“Fuck please… your mouth…” He was whining again, every ounce of respect he had for himself flying out the window at the sight of your swollen lips just inches from his aching cock. Those same lips curled into a cruel smirk, eyes trialing over the dips and plains of the muscles that made up Megumi. “It would be so awkward if someone walked in on us right now, don’t you think? A guy and a girl in the men’s sauna, completely naked, the guy whimpering pathetically while his girlfriend edges him over and over… really awkward, don’t you think Megumi?”

You reached down to cup his balls, mouth watering at the sight of the precum dripping steadily from his tip. You wanted him in your mouth, down your throat, crying and begging you to let him cum. But you loved to taunt him even more, not a single thing was tying Megumi down to the sauna’s bench… but your words had him glued into his space. “It would be so easy for you to take over, Megumi. Pull me up by my hair and throw me on the bench, fuck me stupid until you’ve got what you wanted and then leave me hanging… yet you sit here for me, obedient.”

He only whimpered, pretty lips wobbling as your other hand rested at the base of his shaft. His whole body was flushing a shade of pink at this point, more so from you than the sauna. “Do you want my mouth, Megumi?” you were going to give it to him either way, an absolute sucker even when you were cruel. “Yes… please I want your mouth so bad.” He needed to feel it, your wet tongue lathering his cock in the way that made his fucking toes curl. You knew just how to make him putty in your hands, how to fuck him stupid with out having to do anything at all.

“Then beg for it, better than that.” You smiled up at him, batting your lashes innocently while he squeezed his eyes shut. You would be the death of him, he was absolutely sure of it. “Please… fuck please let me come… mommy please.” It slipped out so naturally you wouldn’t have thought anything of it until Megumi himself froze. Your lips fell open, eyes locking with his as he seemed to turn the deepest shade of red possible. “Mommy, huh? Didn’t think you were into that kinda thing, Megumi…” Your hand had begun to massage the flesh of his balls again, your free hand coming up to wrap around the base of his shaft as you observed him.

“Does my baby boy want mommy to suck his cock?” You purred, eyes narrowing as you gauge his reaction. He twitched, nearly violently, as his lips quivered. “T-this is so embarrassing.” he whined, nodding his head to answer your question. You clicked your tongue “that’s not how mommy likes her answers, use your words like a big boy, Meg.” You tightened your grasp around his base, causing him to jerk forward from the sudden pressure. Hesitantly with a weak voice “Mommy please suck my cock… I want to cum so bad… Mommy please…”

Shiny tears were pricking his eyes, threatening to slide down his reddened cheeks. That was enough for you, your head moving forward and dropping down to encompass him. Megumi’s head fell back, a loud guttural moan leaving his lips as you swallowed around him. Your tongue slid along the underside of his cock, tracing the veins that ran along it as you bobbed your head. You wouldn’t torture him any further, allowing him to cum when he was ready. Based on the way he was gripping the edge of the sauna’s bench, he would fall apart within seconds.

“Gonna… oh fuck m’gonna… mommy please…” he babbled, nearly incoherent as you focused your attention on his leaking tip. His salty precum coated your tongue, increasing in volume with every pass of your fist over his spit-covered shaft. Finally, his hand found its way to your head, gripping your hair so harshly you couldn’t help but whine around him. “Gonna… oh shit… fuck…” a string of profanities left his lips, your name falling in between each one as he came in your mouth. You worked Megumi through it, greedily swallowing his release until you felt him relax.

You pulled off of him as he began to soften, moving to stand and stretch your aching legs. “Who would have thought that Megumi Fushiguro has a mommy kink.” You grinned down at his tired face, voice slightly hoarse from everything you just did. It took you a second too long to process the tired expression morph into annoyance. Even after blowing his load, even though you had his legs feeling like jelly, Megumi managed to move faster than you could think at that moment. “H-hey!” You squeaked, flinching as your back met the hard wooden bench of the sauna.

“You’re so fucking dead, pulling that shit out of me.” Megumi was seething with embarrassment, unable to handle the fact that he had called you mommy willingly. “Oh come off it, Meg. You loved every second of it.” You could feel him twitching back to life, settling his body weight on top of your own. “Doesn’t fucking matter, it’s still embarrassing” His cheeks were permanently stuck on a shade of rosy pink, his hands finding your wrists and pinning them above your head. “You gotta learn some manners, it’s not nice to put people in that kind of vulnerable position.”

Megumi’s voice had dropped into something more sultry, leaving you to feel helpless as he slotted his hips against yours. “Gonna have to fuck some sense into you, mommy.” It was full of sarcasm but you couldn’t deny the way it made your cunt clench around nothing. “Do it, fuck some manners into me, Megumi…” You were panting, the heat of the sauna paired with Megumi’s weight on top of you made you realize how sticky your skin felt. Megumi’s cock was hard again, leaking precum and twitching with need to be inside of you.

“So filthy, you’d probably love it if someone walked in on us right now. Wouldn’t you, mommy?” You nodded, lips parted as you panted. “Yes… fuck yes I would… it would be so humiliating… we’d get kicked out for sure…” you whined, hips jutting upwards to grind against him. That realization had Megumi hesitating a little less, the urge to tease you now replaced with the worry of getting caught. Not that it would be the first time you two had been walked in on… but getting caught in the sauna room would mean removal… he couldn’t bear the thought.

Megumi’s brows furrowed, head moving to look down at your sweaty bodies. “Be good and keep quiet, Mommy. We really don’t want to get kicked out before I can fuck some sense into you.” Your lips trembled before pressing tightly together, nodding obediently as Megumi reached down to guide his tip between your folds. He dragged it slowly, still sticky from his cum and your saliva… and now your own arousal. “Relax.” Was all Megumi said before pushing into you, shivering despite the heat because of the way you inhaled so sharply. The grip he had on your wrists with just one hand kept you from jerking too far from him.

You were soaked, but Megumi was far too big to go in with no prep. You couldn’t help the whine that left you, your ankles locking behind the small of his back to keep him in place despite the ache spreading all the way down to your thighs. He was heavy, splitting you open inch by inch as he engulfed himself in your heat. “M-megumi…” Your hips shifted, trying to alleviate some of the pressure but it only caused him to brush that one particular spot. You swore you saw stars for a moment, a loud cry leaving your lips only to be silenced by Megumi’s free hand slapping over your mouth. “What did I say about being quiet, hmm?”

You didn’t respond, not even a muffled attempt behind his palm. Megumi didn’t move his hand away, glaring down at you “You love to think you can put me in my place, don’t you?” Megumi bottomed out as he spoke, the bulbous head of his cock pressing snuggly to your cervix just because he knew how much it made you squirm. “You’re so cute when you’re naive.” He added softly, carefully moving his hand away from your mouth so he could find better grounding. “This is your last warning, make any noise above a whisper and I’m pulling out.” You nodded, jaw clenched as you tried to remain quiet. You knew Megumi never made empty promises.

Megumi’s head fell forward, catching you off guard as he smashed his lips to yours. Your lips parted shakily, allowing his tongue entrance as the hand he had been using to cover your mouth snaked down to hold your thigh. Megumi’s hips drew back until he was half way out of you, pushing forward again with the same haphazard intent. His only goal was to fuck you until your hips were brusied and he’d likely need to help you walk out of this sauna. You moaned into his mouth, fingers twitching for something to grasp but his grip on your wrists was as strong as iron, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. Every pass of his cock through your velvety walls had you seeing stars, each graze of that one particular spot had your hips jerking into him.

Megumi pulled away, eyes lidded as saliva kept your tongues connected. He was panting, face still stuck in that permanent flush as his hips connected with yours over and over. Sweat was making his skin shine, his usually unruly hair was starting to flatten from the humidity in the room. You had to admit, he never looked more beautiful than he did at that very moment. “Y-You’re so pretty… Megumi!” Your head tilted back, a silent cry leaving your lips as your orgasm brewed deep in your gut. Even with your clit neglected, you swore Megumi would make you cum untouched in that sense. “You’re…fuck you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

You nodded, panting heavily but managing to keep yourself quiet for him. “I can feel it… your cunt is clenching so–ha–so fucking tight… so greedy.” Megumi’s jaw was clenching, trying to silence his own noises as if you hadn’t had him on the verge of tears only a few minutes prior. Megumi’s head dipped lower again, lips pressing to your ear as he spoke “Gonna cum without me playing with your clit?” it was nearly a growl, making you whine breathlessly as you uttered out a small “yes.” Megumi huffed out a laugh, rolling his hips into you slowly. He wouldn’t be that cruel to you, especially knowing how hard you came every time he toyed with your cunt.

The deliberate roll of his hips pressed his pubic bone snuggling to your cunt, rubbing along your clit with each draw back and forth. “O-oh shit… Megumi…. Megumi please…” You wailed softly, voice hoarse and full of need as you strained to keep your cries on the quieter side. “Please what? What does mommy need so badly?” He was hitting deep, kissing your cervix before grinding his hips hard. “To cum… I need to cum, Megumi. Please… oh fuck please let me…” You begged, vision blurring as tears welled in your eyes. It felt like pressure, the kind that made your toes curl but kept your orgasm just out of your reach. Your cunt was aching, pulsing around every inch of his cock that was stuffed inside of you.

“Yeah? You wanna cum? Earn it.” You froze, gasping loudly as Megumi halted all movements. The tingling pressure of your impending orgasm was fizzling away into nothing. Still, you had never felt as full as you did right now. “E-earn it?” you questioned, unintentionally pulling against the restraint that was Megumi’s grasp on your wrists. “Earn it, apologize for humiliating me.” He wasn’t letting it go, that realization made your cunt clench tightly, suctioning to him and pulling a wanton moan from his lips. “M-megumi.” You didn’t want to apologize, your pride wouldn’t allow it. But still… if you wanted to cum. “Say it, Mommy. Apologize for edging me… for making me call you mommy…” Your nose scrunched, “I didn’t make you… you said it your–oh!”

Megumi pushed into you more, not going anywhere since there was nowhere to go but it only made the pressure more intense. “I don’t give a fuck. Apologize or you’re getting nothing.” But even then, you knew Megumi wouldn't be able to pull out and leave you hanging. Still, you were getting impatient, and likely dehydrated with all the sweating you were both doing. The physical activity didn’t help of course. “F-fine… fuck I’m sorry Megumi… I didn’t mean to suck you off so good that you had to call me mommy.” Your tone was full of sarcasm, a devious grin pulling at your lips as Megumi’s cold stare turned into one of shock. “Un-fucking-real.”

You yelped loudly as Megumi drew his hips back completely, leaving you empty as he pushed himself up and off of your body. “Megumi–” you squeaked, thinking you had actually offended him until he was yanking you up with him. “Looks like I forgot my reason for doing this in the first place…” You could only let out a noise of confusion as Megumi’s hands were on your wrists again, pulling them behind your back as he spun you around. You yelped as he pushed you forward, thanks to the sauna set up your knees were digging into the bench you had been sitting on while the top half of you was pressed to the platform of the next.

“You’ve got to watch that filthy mouth of yours.” A hard slap rang through the small space, accompanied by your quiet cry and pain blooming on your ass cheek. Megumi didn’t hesitate, thrusting back into you so quickly it nearly hurt. With your arms restrained, you could do nothing to aid yourself in this new position, having to let Megumi have his way. “Apologize.” Megumi barked, hip snapping into you at a brutal pace, you couldn’t even think straight anymore. Your brain felt like it was melting into mush as Megumi brutally fucked into you. “I’m not hearing–fuck– an apology…” you whimpered in response, trying to pull yourself together to say something–anything– that would satisfy Megumi’s wishes.

“C’mon you can’t be that far gone… or maybe I’m really just that good and fucking you stupid.” he spat, aching to slap your ass again as it jiggled with each snap of his hips. “M-megumi!” you blubbered, tears leaking down your face as every snap of his hips hit that one particular spot. You were going to pass out at this rate, a mix of the steam, your activity, and now your tears were going to do you in before you could even finish. “I’m s-sorry, Megumi.” you wailed, fat globs of tears soiling your pretty face as your cunt sputtered around his cock. “I’m so sorry f-for embarrassing–” you hiccuped, sniffling harshly as you tried to continue.

But that was more than enough for Megumi, his hand sneaking around your front and dipping between your thighs to start rubbing circles on your clit. “Shh… that’s it…” he murmured as you dissolved into tears, he leaned forward to place kisses along your sweat spine as he worked on bringing you over the edge. As much as Megumi liked to be cruel to you, the tears always did him in. He was a sucker for you, especially when you cried too prettily for him. “Gonna make you cum, pretty girl.” he sighed, hips working overtime as he tried to stave off his second orgasm “Your apology is accepted, baby. You’re doing so good.” he praised as you hiccuped.

You whispered his name over and over, his fingers working wonders on your clit as your orgasm quickly built again. “Cum for me, pretty girl. Ruin me.” his voice was low, full of need, making you clench as your orgasm grew nearer. You’d cum any second now, making a mess of yourself, Megumi, and the poor sauna bench below you. It only took a few more snaps of his hips and you were coming hard. A strangled cry of his name left your lips, just loud enough to make Megumi work faster in fear of someone coming to check on the two of you. “Shit… fuck…” more profanties left Megumi’s lips as your cunt covered him in your release, creating a ring around the base of his dick and sending him over the edge. Megumi spilled into you, whining your name just as loud.

Megumi let go of your wrists once he could breathe again, pulling out of you slowly and huffing out a laugh when only a little bit of his cum leaked out. “You okay?” he sat down, carefully grabbing your waist and pulling you down to his level. Sleepily you nodded, pressing your head to his sweaty shoulder. “Thirsty… we gotta get out of here.” You motioned to the towels you had come in wearing, feeling rather than hearing Megumi laugh in response. “I don’t think we raised any suspicions… but they’ll certainly be worried about how long we’ve been in here.” You nodded, trying to will yourself into a sitting position so you could get yourself covered and out of the damned sauna. All you wanted now was water, a bath, and your shared bed.

“C’mon, Meg. Mommy is tired.” You smirked at him as you straightened, watching his shoulders sag as he looked at you. “Was that apology fake?” He chided, getting up to grab his towel as well. “Course it wasn’t… you’re just fun to tease… Daddy.” you glanced over your shoulder at him, mischief glittering in your tired eyes. For the first time that night, Megumi kind of understood why the whole “mommy” thing was appealing to you. “You’re too much.” he sighed, returning your smile as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “You know you love it.” You offered in return, securing the towel in place as you turned to face him. “Yeah… I do.”

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 2 months

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Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold.

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much.

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no…

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands.

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough!

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways.

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten.

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters.

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns.

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time.

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal.

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable.

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort.

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav.

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late.

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier.

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?”

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress.

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls.

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day.

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it.

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her.

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed.

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore.

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe.

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever.

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet.

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family.

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him.

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it.

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head.

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

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mondaymelon · 4 months

Text

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 | lyney, neuvillette, wriothelsey x gn!reader

( i am fully aware snowfelt is not a word. shhhh just please. ignore it. let's have another silly year together, yeah? )

⤷ they confess to you! reader has liked them for a while beforehand, fluff to start off the year ~ (psps i kn o w its the 23rd but writer's block whammied me against a wall and held me hostage for that time so. its really not my fault /lh)

[ in the dying light of fireglow, hands intertwined below a blanket, they turn to gaze into your eyes, speaking three words... ]

"Cold, are we? Shall I warm you up?"

Ah, but the playful grin tugging at LYNEY's lips already provides you with a sufficient, kindled warmth nestled deep into your chest. The snow cascading beyond the windows, curtains half-drawn over the glass, revealed the picturesque scenery, the land that had grown familiar to you dusted with white… your thoughts were dispersed with a light shake of your head just as the winter breeze swept over the snow.

The male smiles as you nudge yourself closer to his side, and with a swift snap of his fingers, sparks heat in the fireplace, a blaze whose flames licked the bricks of its ensnarement. Unfair, really, simply unfair, how with such an effortless movement he swept you into your arms, reddened your already flushed, cold-bitten cheeks. “Warm yet?”

“...Too warm,” you manage a complaint, voice barely audible with how tightly you were pressed against him. “You’re suffocating me, Lyney.” At your words, his seemingly unconscious vice-like grip loosened, allowing you a breath.

“Better?”

“Better.”

The world was quiet. Silent, for not even the wind dared utter a noise. No, that couldn’t be true, for if that were the case, then what were you to make of the persistent flutter of your heart? It was the way his gaze drunk you in that allowed you to dream of such a misunderstanding that he might share the sentiment, with the sight of you cuddled tightly in his arms, your slightly messy hair after he had ruffled it and the rosy cheeks that could possibly bring the most minuscule warmth to his face.

“Thank you.” Your voice was quiet, it felt small, too small for your liking. Why were you even thanking him? What had he done for you? A lot. Simply too many to count. With his playful demeanor, certainly someone like you wouldn’t be well suited to him. Perhaps it was just a haphazard coincidence that allowed the two of you to meet, or perhaps just a cruel twist of fate that had decided to toy with your heart before discarding it. Either way, these feelings are safeguarded, nestled along with the warmth in your chest… they were quiet.

“For what?” Lyney’s jest of a smile tugged at his lips. “Why, have you finally realized that I’m quite the respectable person after all this time?”

“No,” you playfully hit his chest. Ever since the first encounter, the male had chased after you with reckless abandon, somehow managing to find you in just about any situation you were in. Watering the flowers that lined the streets, discussing work matters with the civilians, he’d appear out of thin air beside you, almost like magic. With a boyish grin on his face and a word or two whispered into your ear, “So this is where you were~” ...You shook your head, ears only growing redder at fortunate past thoughts. “You still remain a stalker, it’d be foolish to hope for anything more.”

To hope for something more… what a hypocrite, you were. Your own words burned your tongue, the consequence of such a sin.

“Is it wrong to hope?” Lyney’s smile remained, but his tone grew serious. The faint twinkles that shone in his lavender eyes evidently bore his “wrongful” hope. “To wish that perhaps one day, I’ll mean more than just a ‘stalker’ to you?”

Your breath hitched. Say, didn’t these words… sound familiar? Didn’t they resemble lines read from those light novels from Inazuma, covers decorated with roses and sparkles? “Lyney, you-”

“I love you.”

Your words have escaped you. Countless, countless words. Each of them grow wings and flit away.

“Ah, would it be too cliché to call it a love at first sight?” Lyney let loose a sigh, grinning sheepishly with a shake of his head. “But that was exactly what it was. The second I saw you… my, how generic I sound. Would it be too much to stomach if it was from that moment that I knew?” He paused, pursing his lips. They pressed into a tight line. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I won’t be hopeful. I know better than that, and you’ve said it yourself. Let’s just… would I go too far if I wished to remain by your side? Not as a lover, surely, but a companion, or a mere acquaintance-”

“Lyney.”

His name is familiar in your mouth. It rests easy on the tongue.

“As a lover. That. That’s what… I want.”

The curve of his lips says well enough before he even opens them.

“Then, as your lover… may I kiss you?” ₊˚ෆ

“Are you feeling alright?”

His words were soft against the cold air, and NEUVILLETTE’s pale-eyed gaze even softer. Fontaine had had its first taste of snow, and with it came its cold finger tips that thoroughly dusted whatever it touched, the streets and tops of buildings painted a brilliant white.

“Yes, it’s just… Aren’t you cold like this?” The male, upon seeing you give the slightest shiver at the sudden drop in temperature, had immediately rushed over and taken off his coat for you to wear instead, where it was now draped comfortably over your shoulders. Warm, and it carried his scent. “I’d feel bad if you were to feel unwell because of me, so please, take it back?”

“Now, that’s something I simply can’t do,” His lips drew the slightest smile, a rare sight you were delighted to witness - the way his eyes crinkled at their corners and twinkled all the more was a pleasant one to experience indeed. “I’ll be fine, I can assure you. It’d take more than just a winter breeze to incapacitate me.”

You furrowed your brows, puffing out your cold-flushed cheeks before making a cross with your arms. “Nope, no can do! We’re heading back to my place, and I’ll brew some hot tea. No complaints, we’re going!” Before the man could utter another word, presumably a word of protest, you took him by his gloved hand and started running forwards. Full well, you knew Neuvillette was certainly at a better physique than you were, but you really just needed an excuse to hold his hand.

Why, exactly? The answer was rather simple.

While you weren’t enamored with him to begin with… after all, how could one be like that towards the respectable iudex of Fontaine, your curiosity got the better of you the moment you realized the stoic man suspiciously resembled one of Fontaine’s many creatures, the otter. The colors, the mannerisms, truly, it all paired up in an uncanny fashion. Somehow, along the line of approaching and getting to know him, you had caught feelings. It was almost funny, how they could sneak up on you like that while your guard was down. Except, now that you had them, what were you supposed to confess? “I started to like you when I realized you were practically an otter, love!”...Ugh, how embarrassing would that be? Imagining his handsome features scrunched with displeasure at your offense is one thing about Neuvillette you wished not to behold.

"...Ahem." Curses, you had been holding his hand for far too long to just laugh it off. You blinked yourself out of your past reminiscence, finding yourself faced with a rather concerned Neuvillette. "Apologies, you weren't responding, so..."

"No matter, are we here already?" You coughed into your first awkwardly, quickly letting go of Neuvillette's hand, however warm his touch may be. Unlocking the door, you swiftly swung it open, letting Neuvillette enter and then shutting it behind you. If you’d known that he’d be coming over - you had unconsciously invited him to your residence - you would’ve cleaned the space up a bit more. Nothing you could do about it now, you supposed. “There’s nothing special, you can make yourself at home while I go fetch some refreshments for us.”

“There’s no need for that.” Neuvillette held up a hand to stop you. “I’m quite alright, and if anything, I’d be delighted if you allowed me to brew your tea for you.”

“What? No, you’re my guest, you shouldn’t possibly-!”

“Ah ah, no complaints. I held mine back, so you should do the same, no?” Great, since when had he started getting clever with his words? “What I need you to do is to go get a blanket and sit at the fireplace. Where do you keep the tea?”

You let out a begrudging sigh. “Fifth cabinet.”

“Thank you.” You did as he asked with less than an enthusiastic self, and managed to light the fireplace before Neuvillette returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray that held two cups and a steaming teapot.

You raised an eyebrow at him as you took your cup, warm to the touch. “My, I didn’t expect you to have any complaints, dear Sir Iudex of Fontaine.”

“...Complaint? Ah,” Neuvillette’s eyes rounded when he realized what conversation you were referring to. “Hm, it’s rather embarrassing to say, however… well, since it was a precious day off, I figured I’d take you somewhere special, to the Opera House or wherever, but instead I’m here interfering in your home… it’s certainly not ideal, is it? My apologies.”

There was a moment of silence, accompanied by the crackle of flames. “Archons, is that what you were thinking with such a downcast expression?” You laughed, seeing his expression brighten. He was perhaps a little too predictable. “I don’t mind, Neuvillette. I was the one who invited you here, so there’s no need for you to feel ashamed that you accepted it. Besides…” you inched closer to him, grinning. “Every moment with you is special enough, it doesn’t take somewhere ‘special’ to make it so, hm?”

The man remained silent. Had you gone too far with your reassurance? His pale cheeks were flushed, had he become so enraged that his face had gone red? Certainly not, for he whispered your words like an echo. “A special moment, you say?” A tilt of your head was enough of a response. “Then…”

“I love you.”

“...Pardon?” The smile on your face slipped, and your ears rung with the gravity of his words. Perhaps you had grown so desperate that the only way to appease that mind of yours was to form auditory hallucinations? You had surely dropped to new, unprecedented lows.

“I love you.”

There’s just something about that gaze of his that makes you want to cry in his arms. Something about it that makes you want to be held by him, to feel the warmth that he holds in the way he simply looks at you, to bask in it like sunlight, to feel loved.

“I love..”

“There’s no need to say it again, Neuvillette.” His face falls, and his beautifully damned eyes grow wide. “I heard it the first time.” You can sense that he’s bracing himself for a response, with the way the smile on his lips draws tight and his stance grows rigid. “To think that you’d be the one confessing to me, why, this was certainly not the vision I had imagined a thousand times over in my head.”

You can see the hope in his eyes. You would never dare crush it, your heart beats for him. “I love you, Neuvillette, so repeat it just one more time, would you?”

And just like that, he melts in your arms.

“Yes, darling. I love you too.” ₊˚ෆ

“My, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

Standing up from his desk, WRIOTHESLEY’s eyes are bright with excitement.

“So surprised, aren’t you?” You lean on his doorway with a fond smile as he embraces you in a quick hug. You smile as he draws back, “Why, am I not allowed to visit the poor duke, cooped up here with nothing but paperwork to satisfy his boredom?”

Your words were true, and they’d struck a note inside him. The Fortress of Meropide was quiet, almost too quiet these days. Sure, there was the persistent, eternal sound of turning gears and bursts of steam, and the never-ending crinkle of paper under his hands, but with most of the prisoners turning in a little earlier due to the cold, the hallways that were usually filled with chatter that he’d proclaim as “distracting” were no more. Monotonous was the crackle of the flames in the fireplace, but the sound of your eager footsteps rounding the hallways was a welcome sound indeed.

“Certainly not, I wouldn’t lie through my teeth and say that your presence is unwelcome.” His lips were curled upwards in a grin, his husky voice bearing the melody of delight.

“I’d imagine.” That sneaky smile on your face is almost alluring in the pale light. “Stuck in this office of yours doing tedious tasks for the foreseeable future is not the ideal form of entertainment for most Fontainions.”

A scoff, a playful one. “Then, have you come to help me with said paperwork?”

The shake of your head was instant, so much so that the man could’ve sworn it came out of instinct. “Most definitely not, Wrio. It’s rather unfortunate to say, however…” You let out a great sigh, one foreboding terrible news. Even your eyes began to tear up at their corners, and your expression became dramatically crestfallen. “I’m afraid this empty head of mine has suddenly become illiterate!”

Wriothesley swallowed a laugh that almost dared surface and instead feigned a dramatic gasp, a hand over his mouth that had widened with shock. “Oh, dearest me! What a predicament… Then, what have you come to visit me for, pray tell? To sit and stare at me?”

You shrugged your shoulders, expression blank. “To be fair, I don’t exactly know either. I wanted to see you, and my feet just brought me here.” It wasn’t a complete truth, but not exactly a lie either. You had wanted to see him - partially to admire his strikingly handsome features, but also just to, well, exist in his presence. As much as he’d deny it, Wriothesley hated the idea of being apart from you, and his unchanging situation as the duke of the Fortress of Meropide didn’t aid that information. That, and the fact that ever since you had seen him simply strolling through the city, the slightest wind ruffling his dark locks and that sharp gaze of his staring ahead of him, you’d been utterly captured. While clichés weren’t exactly your forte, you had to admit that he was a case of “love at first sight”. And while you had fallen for his looks, his disposition wasn’t something to simply brush aside. Funniest thing? He’d been the one to approach you, striking up a conversation while you were merely having a drink at a nearby cafe, asking if you’d seen a certain wig-wearing dog.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you, but have you seen a dog around here? He has a top hat, brightly colored hair, is wearing a suit covered in stickers…”

After joining him on the chase around just about the entirety of Fontaine, the two of you managed to find the missing dog, who was actually a stray being taken care of by a melusine Wriothesley was familiar with, and return it. One thing led to another, and the two of you grew from strangers, acquaintances, and now to friends. Surely, it’d be terrible to wish for something more, wouldn’t it?

“Just tell me you missed me.” Wriothesley’s grin had returned, and he chuckled. “You’re not doing the greatest job of hiding it.”

“So what if I missed you?” You pouted, finally moving past the man and into the office, eyeing the papers on his desk before making yourself comfortable next to the fire. “And who said I was hiding it, dear duke?”

Wriothesley paused for a beat before continuing in his regular fashion. “You’re being rather bold today, aren’t you? Your words… they’re making it easy to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand all you want, does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

“N-”

“Let’s stop speaking in riddles. Make yourself clear, hm? What’re you trying to pull with all these questions?” Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, leaning closer. “What, are you trying to be a flirt?”

“Aaaand if I am?” You smiled at his actions, not exactly sure what was spurring you onwards.

“...Damnit, you… archons, you just won’t listen, will you? No matter, it just makes things easier for me. Hey, flirt, you won’t get all flustered if I say this then, yeah?”

“Say what-”

“I love you.”

That was certainly a way to catch someone off guard. “... the fuck-”

“No need to react that badly, all right?” Wriothesley let out a sigh of defeat, leaning his head against the wall as he sat down next to you. “I didn’t say it for the sake of saying it. It’s true. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but..” He chuckled, a laugh that was void of what a laugh should have. “I’m rather a coward.”

“I-I didn’t mean to answer like that, you just caught me by surprise-” You shook your head, cursing at yourself for sounding so pathetic, with your trembling voice and words that stuttered every syllable. “...And by your definition…” You drew your knees closer to yourself, hugging them to your body. “I’m a coward as well.”

It takes him the count of three to respond, eyes blown wide. “...Wait, you-” The flush on his face was undeniable.

“I like you too, Wrio.”

“Archons, I… give me a moment. I’ve been wanting to hear that for so long, I think my heart has stopped beating.” ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) greetings my beloved melons. hello. ive risen from my grave to presumably and hopefully be alive for the next couple months. my reqs are all still full so i will be tryna get through em but at the same time i will be doing self indulgent fics. so udhaofjsdlf yeahd ahhahahahaa thats pretty much it on daily melon talk im going to answer my plethora of asks tomorrow because i know your dashboard wont be able to handle it if i post this and then answer 15 miillion asks. you are ever so welcome. also i always hate the way i write wriothelsey and this time was no exception this was so painful blegh ajlfksdmc

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling

reblogs are appreciated! line up for a smooch. mwah!!

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thewriterwithnoplan · 3 months

Text

THE TRAITOR'S SOULMATE (2/2)

Summary: Humans once had four legs, four arms, two heads, and two hearts. For humanity's hubris, Zeus struck them in two. You and Luke Castellan are determined to find your way back to each other, but before that can happen, there are things the two of you need to do.

[Part 2 to The Hero's Soulmate]

Soulmate AU: You meet the future version of your soulmate.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Word Count: 7378

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, I use the spelling 'mom' because the series is American but I - and I cannot stress this enough - am not American, she a long one.

A/N: I've loved reading your comments, thank you so much for all the support in part one. I hope you enjoy, because we all deserve a little Luke Castellan every now and then!

Masterlist

Amphitrite had been gifted a premonition and the world was all the worse for it. The dream had come from Apollo or perhaps the Oneiroi or whatever great heart pumped blood and Gods and monsters out into the world.

It did not matter to the Goddess from whom the vision came, for in this dream Amphitrite had watched her husband fall in love and sire a child to a mortal paramour. A precious boy that Poseidon might even one day love, with a taste for the colour blue and a heroism that would grow to rival his namesake. And for the Queen of the Seas, that simply would not do.

It would not be the child’s nor his mortal mother’s fault – she was not Hera after all – and so she would have to punish her husband for the blame would be his. But how was one to punish a King among Gods before his crime even came to be? Why to beat him at his own game, of course.

So, Amphitrite set out to sire her own demigod with the mortal man her husband would hate most. A devout catholic.

Amphitrite stayed with her mortal lover and their half-blood daughter until the girl was all but five. Far longer than the greater Gods were wont to spend with their offspring. But what a precious babe she had bourn and what a traitorous husband she had back home.

But fate and prophecies and soulmates were such funny things. Inciting chaos. Inviting paradox. Introducing dangers untold.

It took Amphitrite all those years – though seemingly short in her immortality – to realise her fatal error. She had been the one to leave Poseidon. She had been the one to sire a child. She had been the one to drive her husband to the surface and his mortal. And so, the blame was hers to shoulder.

Amphitrite decided that she would be a self-fulfilling prophecy no longer. It was time to venture back below the surface.

In a last fit of guilt, she bestowed her first and final act of mercy unto her mortal lover. She told him everything.

When finally, she had gone back to the sea to reconcile with her husband, the catholic man took his turn to bestow his first and final act of mercy unto his young demigod child.

Against all the teachings of his faith. He abandoned his young daughter at Half-Blood Hill. And let the devil-spawn keep her life.

The Spirit of the Hudson River never did learn to like you. You with your greedy hands, snatching debris from its murky waters. You and your strange sea creature friends who would not dare brave such pollution were it not for your presence. Your pile of war spoils tossed aside like children’s toys. Your strange little bubble of air on the sandy floor of the river, where you stowed your treasures and slept bracketed by water. Were it not for the pollution that slopped against the edge of the river as if it were trying to escape you, the Hudson River Spirit might have chased you and your sea friends and your collection of trinkets out of his waters. But as it were, you made a strangely amicable tenant for a demigod. So, as long as you paid your dues the spirit let you keep your little underwater oasis.

For your first years living there, you made your way in New York City by selling lost things dredged from your river home. Bikes and old weaponry and tarnished jewellery and buckets of coins from across the world. You were careful and you coveted your few precious belongings, but with the rivers bounty, you rarely went hungry.

By the time you were fourteen, you found you could venture further into the city without as many questions. You had met an odd assortment of people whilst selling the lost and unloved things of the river; all who knew someone, who knew someone, who needed another set of hands and so you offered yours. You babysat and cleaned, worked in delis and sandwich shops, helped old women with their groceries and young families mend their clothes. A retired teacher gifted you packets of schoolwork and with little else to fill your hours under the river you took to learning. Your numbers came easier than letters and reading always gave you a hard time but the activities she gave you each time you tended to her balcony garden gave you something to do when the sounds of the city kept you up at night.

All the while you followed Percy Jackson from the recesses of the Hudson. Shuffling your little bubble and its blessedly dry treasures up and then back down the river as he was bounced listlessly from school to school. Watching over him as the mythosphere tried desperately to barge into his little mortal life. Feral harpies that tried to snatch him into the air, great snakes that tried to sneak through air vents and all manner of underworld-born sea creatures that sought to pull him below. You had wrestled and dismembered and slayed them all. Adding their feathers and scales and great weapons to your dragons-hoard.

You were sixteen when you finally knocked on Sally Jackson’s door to introduce yourself. You had spent weeks working yourself up to it, planning your outfit and then fussing over each piece. All your clothes had been gifts and were often a size too big or printed with some generic tagline like Spread peace not hate!; or made entirely from yarn that the old woman whose meals you prepped at the start of each week had gifted you after she had taught you how to crochet; or like the dress you wore now, were sown together from thrifted fabric scraps and embellished with pretty shells and baroque pearls. You had planned the time you would arrive down to the minute so that her oppressive husband would be out, but the hour would not be so late as to make an unexpected visit threatening. You had planned to keep Percy safe while you were away from him by entrusting your friends Clarence the Crab and Emily the Squid to supervise him for the evening.

What you had not planned for was the possibility that Sally Jackson would be the most lovely woman you had ever met. You had been struck dumb by it the moment she opened her door and greeted you with a kind smile. Couldn’t your mother have chosen a mortal as gentle as she to be your parent? Alas, the Gods had never done a thing for you.

“Can I help you, lovely?”

You tried not to burst into tears as you asked, “Mrs. Jackson?”

“Are you alright?” She opened the door wider, leant out and scanned the corridor behind you. “Is there something you need?”

“No ma’am. I’m here about your son, Percy. His father sent me.” A good ambiguous statement that would pique her curiosity but let on nothing about the Gods. Allowing you to spin your tale – that you were Percy’s long-lost step-sister, come to reconnect.

“Poseidon?” Alas, the Gods had truly never done a thing for you. “Is something wrong? Is Percy, okay?”

“He’s fine Mrs. Jackson, I’ve been keeping him safe.”

She scanned the hall behind you once more, “You best come in.”

Over a cup of tea, you told Sally Jackson everything.

You liked your home under the river. For lack of a better term, it allowed you to remain liquid. You could follow Percy wherever trouble took him. You could stay up until the city grew quiet for that brief moment before dawn. You could train with the Hudson River Spirit, even if he only entertained you because he enjoyed winning.

You liked your bed made out of stacked wood pallets and a mountain of blankets. You liked your wooden chest of draws stuffed full of trinkets and weapons and the precious few items you owned. You liked this place that you had carved out with your own two hands.

But you also liked your home in the Jackson household. Where there was always music playing. Where it was always warm and dry. Where there would always be some blue-ified food in the oven or blue candy in the mason jars by the sink.

It became your job in the summers to babysit Percy, to keep him away from Gabe and from danger while entertaining his endless need for motion. You took him to art galleries (which he hated) and aquariums (which he loved), to craft fairs (which he tolerated because he liked the things you made) and swimming pools (which he only liked when he won your swimming races).

“What even is a soulmate?” Percy had asked you one day at the park.

“The person with the other half of your soul,” You scrunched your nose up, “Or well, that's what people say.”

“You’re saying I’ve been walking around with half a soul?”

“I didn’t say I believed them,” You rattled your water bottle in front of his face until he took it. “Stay hydrated.”

He frowned at you, “You don’t believe in soulmates?”

“Of course I do, but it's a little more complicated than that, kid.” You took the water bottle back and played with the cap for a moment while you thought. “Think of it like this. You can have two different puzzles that are cut the same way, right? So all the pieces from one will fit with all the pieces from the other. But that doesn’t mean they belong together, the picture doesn’t come out quite right because even though the pieces fit, they don’t necessarily belong to the same puzzle. Maybe that’s what it was like for your mom, like she couldn’t find the pieces that made up her picture and so she went with the ones that fit at the time.”

“You don’t think my mom and dad were soulmates?”

“I never met your father.”

“But he’s your dad too.”

“He’s my mom’s husband. Maybe my mom and dad are soulmates.” Percy didn’t seem to like that answer. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe your mom and my mom each have pieces that fit into your dad's puzzle but neither match his picture, or both. Maybe his picture is a year with your mom and a lifetime with mine and having you. Maybe he needs to collect all those little pieces at the right time when they’re the right shape or he’ll end up with a completely different picture at the end.”

“I kind of understand.” But he gave you a look that said he probably didn’t. “What picture are you making?”

You hid your smile behind the lip of your water bottle, “My soulmates about yay-high, pretty as a magazine cover with dimples and all. I’m collecting my puzzle pieces with you and your mom and this city so that I’ll have half of his picture.”

“If you know who he is, why don’t you just go find him now?”

“Still looking for some pieces, I guess.” You kicked a rock with the toe of your boot. “Souls are fragile. If you go rushing in and trying to jam the pieces in when they’re not shaped right just yet you could damage them.”

“What happens if you do that?”

“It’s probably harder to find each other in the next life. You’ll chip pieces away and your souls won’t fit right.” You shoved your hands into the pockets of your cardigan and pulled out a sandwich, you gave Percy the bigger half.

“Who taught you all this?”

“My mom used to tell me and well, I've thought about it a lot.” You tugged Percy by the back of his shirt so he didn't go stomping through a puddle, he glared. “But anyway, some people think it’s just fate. That you find your soulmate no matter what and it’s a perfect fit either way.”

“It would be easier that way.”

“Sometimes that’s just not how the story goes, kid.”

Percy thought that was the most important thing anyone had ever taught him, but he figured some of the other stuff you taught him came in handy too. You taught him the tricks you learned to work around your dyslexia. You taught him to skip stones and to not throw rocks at seagulls. You taught him to flip off the Empire State Building but only when his mom wasn’t around. You taught him to knit and do a cartwheel and make a good cup of tea to take his mother in the morning. You taught him to chew with his mouth shut and to sword fight with wrapping paper rolls. You taught him to braid hair and throw a punch and say all the swears in Ancient Greek.

And then one day, a Satyr came for Percy Jackson, and there was nothing left for you to teach.

You wrote Sally a brief letter of warning, picked your way through seven years’ worth of belongings and collapsed your life into a backpack. You said goodbye to Clarence and Emily with a brief promise to visit, pushed a final wave of pollution from the waters and thanked the Hudson River Spirit for his hospitality. He gifted you sixteen perfect round pearls and insisted that he never wanted to see you again. You spent the bus ride to Long Island threading them into a necklace made of fishing wire, tying off each pearl with your teeth.

It was a tentative tradition between demigod soulmates to exchange gifts upon their first meeting. So few and far between were the possessions of a half-blood that even the smallest bauble would likely mean the world. The practice had died out some over the centuries as the Gods received fewer offerings from mortals and turned to their children for sacrifices. Gift-giving to your soulmate as a demigod became all but synonymous with spitting at the feet of the divine and loudly proclaiming you would make offerings to your soulmate instead. A pearl necklace would be an excellent final addition to the collection of small gifts you had assembled over the years. Let the Gods weep at your feet and beg for scraps if they needed them so much, you would ignore them just as they had ignored you.

You arrived at Camp far sooner than you might have liked, a few hours past mid-day when hopefully the rest of your ilk would be occupied with meaneal chores and activities. You considered waiting at the crest of the hill for someone to notice you only to find a pine tree planted firmly at its peak where you might have stood. Instead, you make the alarmingly easy trek down to the Big House.

“Chiron!” He had always been your favourite of the two men, currently sat on the porch drinking juice and playing cards.

“Yes, my girl?” He barely spared you a glance as he shuffled his cards between his weathered hands. He stilled for a moment and then tossed his head back in the way a horse might toss its mane. “My dear!”

You raised a hand, halfway between a salute and a wave, “Nice to know I haven’t been totally forgotten.”

“Au contraire.” Mr. D stuck his nose up at you. “Which one are you again?”

“The little one that went missing some seven years ago,” Chiron stood as you climbed the stairs onto the porch. “How are you, my dear? Where have you been?”

“Shouldn’t you be at Yancy Academy?”

Mr. D’s eyes turned sharp in the way that had once made your friends whisper that some days, he was more maniac than man , “And how do you know about that little girl?”

“Percy Jackson is at Yancy,” You smiled at him, all teeth, “How did you think he survived long enough for your baby satyr to find him?”

“You have been protecting young demi-gods?” Chiron asked wearily.

“Percy Jackson is a full-time job, I’m afraid,” You tugged at the strap of your backpack, praying you could keep control of the conversation. You had a lot of time under the river to think and this was one of many things you had spent countless hours mulling over. Weighing and considering what story you would tell them – to tell the truth of both your parentage and put Percy in harm's way or to lie and balance your life on its sharp edge. “I found him in Manhattan, he was like a magnet for mythological activity. By the time I’d had enough of rebelling and wanted to come back to camp, I was protecting him from attacks every other week. He wouldn’t have lasted a month. I came back as soon as I could.”

No matter how many times you played it out in your head, the lies won every time.

“Kids.” Mr. D threw back the last of his juice.

“Perhaps you should settle back into the Hermes Cabin, dear.” Chiron smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes pinched, “You’ve given myself and Mr. D much to talk about. We’ll settle the issue of your paperwork tomorrow.”

“Of course.” You rustled through your bag, digging up a palm sized statuette that you set onto the table. “Before I forget, I brought you a gift Mr. D.”

“A toy,” He snatched it up. “Oh joy.”

“It’s you, as the mortals’ see you. It’s from the gift shop at the Met.”

“How kind of you, my dear.” Chiron softened, and you watched as even Mr. D’s temper seemed to ease, his hands gentle around the gift as he admired it.

An unseeing piece of plastic for the God who served as no more than a silent observer over the affairs of the camp. Let him choke on his ego, you thought as you left the pair to their discussion.

Cabin 11 was blessedly empty when you entered, but your old bunk was not. A pile of clothes was thrown haphazardly across the bedspread. You snatched a sleeping bag and a lumpy pillow from the storage closet and threw them down with your bag. If you could not have the bunk that had been yours at twelve, you would claim the corner that had been yours at five. As you shook out the sleeping bag and pulled out your belongings, you tried not to think of your bed of blankets under the river or Sally Jackson’s couch.

Instead you turned your mind to the Big House and the conversation that was no doubt happening within.

You had constructed a perfect image, if you did say so yourself. Grown in ways Mr. D could not have predicted but Chiron would insist he had foreseen. Still a rebellious young woman in the mortal sense, with your scuffed leather boots and ripped jeans. But the parts that had screamed ‘insubordination’ to the Gods were neatly tucked away. Your twin knives strapped to your forearms under the billowing sleeves of your crocheted top, your vicious tongue caged behind a sweet grin, your once sharp stare softened at the edges.

Once you had fashioned yourself so that the Gods could not paint you as a hero, now you fashioned yourself so that they might forget you were an enemy.

Let Chiron think you were a misunderstood wayward girl scout come home from her self-imposed quest. Let Mr. D think you were a stupid girl who had seen the world beyond the Gods’ protection and finally accepted that you needed them. Let them all think wrong. You had left to protect your brother and returned for one reason only.

“You’re here.”

You turned, and there he was, “Luke Castellan.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, limbs jerking slightly as if he wasn’t sure whether to move toward you or stay put. He was almost certain you could hear the way his pulse was racing, his heartbeat clanging wildly in his chest as he searched desperately for a suave reply, but everything else seemed lack lustre when you said his name like that.

Your face twisted into something like anger and for a moment he thought he’d messed it all up before your lips curled and you practically spat, “I do like your scar.”

And then he was laughing at you, wild and bewildered and not the least bit contained. Before long you were laughing too, neither of you quite sure what was funny, just so wholly relieved as your chests were flooded with wonder and warmth.

It felt like fireworks and popping candy. Just as he had promised all those years ago. You resisted the urge to throw up on his Converse.

You might have been crying and he might been too but you weren’t exactly sure because one moment you were both laughing at nothing and the next he was on the floor with you. He held you like he had never held a single thing in his life, like he was lost at sea and you were the only solid thing for miles. He tucked your head under his chin and sucked in great forced breaths that you could feel beneath your cheek. Because he was warm and there and real. And that meant the last seven years, the better part of your life, hadn’t been for nothing.

You and Luke make your way to dinner side by side. You had spent the afternoon rambling about your lives, about your meetings with your future selves, about your home under the river, about his responsibilities as a camp counsellor and yours as your brother’s keeper. He told you about Annabeth and Thalia and the rest of his siblings, you told him about your parents and Sally Jackson and your sea friends. You gave him his necklace which he lets you fix in place at the base of his throat – you do not spend a moment too long running your hand up the back of his neck and through his curls.

He had been almost bashful when he gifted you a watch that matched his, inlaid with twin fragments of mother of pearl taken from the same shell – kind of like your soul had been, he had said. You swear you’ve never owned anything as precious. You let him strap it to your wrist as he tells you about spending a summer diving for it in the lake. And then softly, tentatively, he tells you about his quest.

Luke could have cried from the way you were looking at him alone, so very gently, like you could cradle him with your gaze alone. At a loss for words, you simply whispered, “I am so proud of you.”

His grip is iron-clad and you tell your next story with your face pressed into the side of his neck, pretending you can’t feel him shaking softly.

When you make your way to dinner you’re both glowing with the soft exhaustion of emotion. You all but lean against one another as you collect your goblets and fill your plates.

The other campers steer clear of you, content to leave Luke to chauffeuring the new kid around. You count yourself lucky, it was only a matter of time until one of the older campers recognised you.

You were almost to the end of the Hermes table – that perfect spot at the end where you might just have a chance of holding a private conversation after dinner – when Chiron interrupted you.

“Mr. Castellan, I see you’ve acquainted yourself with our newly returned camper.”

“That’s my job, sir.” You tried not to stare at the crooked smile he flashed the centaur.

“Perhaps you ought to show her how to make an offering,” Chiron says pointedly, “She’s been away for a long time, and it’s your responsibility to treat her as you would any other incoming Camper.”

Luke turned to you, his boyish grin still charming but the mirth leaking out of his eyes, “Of course. Do you remember how it’s done?”

“I do. Just not a lot of food to be spared in the mortal world.”

You squinted, the corners of your mouth pulled up in what Chiron would likely mistake for sheepishness. But Luke could see it in your eyes. How your anger had made you pointy in all the places someone your age ought to be soft. He wondered how all the jagged edges of you would feel against all the jagged edges of him. He thought maybe if the two of you were careful, you could make something smooth as sea glass and twice as pretty, together.

You dump a clump of mashed potatoes into the fire with an unconcerned flick of your fork. Luke lops part of his own meal on top of yours, you glare enviously at the reasonable portion he had left on his plate. You hoped the food would burn at the bottom of the braiser.

“Sorry, sir.” You mocked Luke. He stuck his tongue at you once Chiron had turned his back.

You hurried to snag the seat at the end of his table, sliding into place across from each other. You flounder for a moment, wondering whether to draw your legs as far under your seat as they will go or bask in the gentle brush of his knee against his leg. You settle for the latter and try not to evaporate under his gaze, as he stares at you even as you start eating.

Luke realised he’d spent too long staring when you all but groaned, “Don’t tell me I have to sacrifice my dinner to you too.”

He flashed you a grin, then tried to say as nonchalantly as possible,“Is that why you left? So you could enjoy a proper meal every once and a while?”

You stared at him for a long while, “You, future you, told me to leave, to find my brother.”

“Why would I do that? If you had stayed at Camp–”

“That’s almost exactly what I said to you.” You pushed your food around as you stared at a point just beyond his head, he thought for a moment that he could see the neurons firing behind your eyes, like a hundred tiny zaps of lightning, “But I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. And I think you were right to send me away.”

“I don’t think I’ll be hearing that very often.” He dodged the pea you fling at him with a grin.

“I think maybe if I don’t leave, I won’t become this me or do the things I’ve done and maybe that’s important for us or our future or some past you rewrote by telling me to leave.”

“Seems overly complicated.”

“I think it’s supposed to be complicated,” You couldn’t help but admire the quiet skill with which he wielded his cutlery, “If it were easy, we would find each other in every universe.”

He paused, knife aloft, “You don’t want to find each other in every universe?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” You speared a leaf of spinach onto your fork to hide your scowl behind as you said, “The Gods have made it this way to keep us separated.”

“We’re together now.”

“Which means they lost.”

Luke watched you for a drawn out heartbeat, then leaned over to transfer the perfect squares of meat he’d been cutting onto your plate.

You took a long moment to chew before you said, “So, your plan to send me after Percy worked.”

“I thought it was your plan.”

“I forgot to ask you whose plan it was.”

“I say it’s your plan.” He took a long pull from his goblet that left his lips tinted red.

“It doesn’t matter what you think.” You passed him a napkin before he could ask, “It’s what you will think.”

“Sure, Precious.” He smothers a laugh into the napkin at the way you scrunch your nose at him, “You know, because you're so protective of your food. Like Gollum with the ring.”

“That’s the stupidest explanation for a pet name I’ve ever heard.” But you’re damn near head down on the table as you laughed. “I definitely got the smarter half of our soul.”

“Then it was definitely your plan.”

You’ve still got a hand pressed to your face to conceal your smile when you say, “What about when I meet you? Any words of wisdom?”

“Try not to fall for me. I can tell you’re pretty charmed but it’s really not appropriate. I’m seventeen, and you’re what? Twenty-four?”

You launched your bread roll at him. You’re twice as incensed when he catches it whilst looking directly at you, “Asshole.”

“Smartass. See, two can play that game.”

Luke can’t help but think you’re just as pretty sneering as you are smiling, like no expression no matter how ugly could detract from your beauty. Maybe you’re like him, he scarcely dared to hope. Maybe you’re something better, another part of him whispered. The way you talk about the Gods and turn your nose up at them, and play their game only when it suits you.

You weren’t vengeful in the way he was. You weren’t the spitting vicious thing the Camp had liked to pretend you were when you weren’t around to prove otherwise. You were worse and better and everything he needed. You were a storm on the horizon, a snake coiled tight. You were better than just angry. You were disillusioned. Not a product of juvenile resentment but true wrath born of awareness. Not the wild foaming-at-the-mouth kind that he had imagined when he had first heard your name. But the dark carefully contained kind he had seen in the face you would grow into.

This, Luke thought, you were the start of everything.

It’s some weeks later when you stick your hands through the grating of the bunk above Luke as leverage to lean over him and croon, “Up and at ‘em, Pretty Boy.”

He pushed his face out of his pillow, curls sticking up at odd angles as he looked at you half-asleep, “What?”

“Remember? Training?”

“No,” He scrubbed sleep from his eyes, “What did you call me?”

“Sickly.”

“I don’t think that was it.” He propped his head up on a fist as he smiled at you sleepily.

It was so disgustingly cute that you had to turn your back when you said, “Just meet me there.”

Luke’s freshly showered and holding an apple core when he deigns to join you in the forest. He tossed the apple at you and you caught it without thinking. You fake gag at him as you throw it further into the forest.

You wiped your hands against his shoulder as you say, “I’m not sure if an apple core counts but that was dangerously close to an Ancient Greek proposal, Castellan.”

“I got hungry.” He shrugged. You squared off across the clearing, stretching as you warmed yourselves up for the ensuing sparring match.

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Is this you rejecting me?” He landed an open hand on his chest and staggered backward. “You wound me, Precious!”

“Was that you proposing? Because I’m,” You wiped your hand again for good measure, scrunching your nose up, “Disgusted.”

“You would be honoured if I had just proposed to you.”

“You should be nicer to me.”

“And go easy on you just because you’re my soulmate? Unlikely.”

“Because, asshole, I’m the one who got you out of chores this morning, or have you forgotten already. You seemed rather grateful for your little sleep-in.”

He unsheathed his sword and twirled it round in his hand, “You’re a bad influence.”

“Like you weren’t ready to worship the ground I walk on when I told Chiron you needed to get my training up to speed.”

“Do you want me to tell you, you’re brilliant?” He pointed his sword toward you with that grin that made you want to hold him down just so you could admire it longer. “You’re brilliant.”

“You’re stalling.” You pull your knives out, one from your boot, the other from your belt. You miss your old clothes with their pretty sleeves and their personality, your camp shirt seems a poor trade in comparison.

“Stalling? Me?” Luke scoffed. “Never!”

“Don’t you have a counsellor meeting at half-past?”

“I do, so please don’t feel bad when you lose. I only have half an hour to wrap this up. You understand.”

“Who’s fault is that Mr. Just-five-more-minutes?”

He gasped in mock offence and lunged forward, his sword swinging at you in a great arch. You leapt back, out of his range, then ducked low and rushed toward him. Luke was quick, in a viciously smooth move he swept his sword at you again. You brought your knives together, bracing as the impact ricocheted up your arms. Admittedly, you were at a great disadvantage given that you were reluctant to throw a knife at Luke’s head – even though he’d demonstrated an impressive ability to swipe your wayward throws out of the air – and that he had an additional several feet of reach on you.

Luke feigned to the right, you lashed out at his left side and narrowly avoided his sword as it came down at you. He whistled slowly as both of you backed up to circle each other for a moment.

“You’ve got moves, I’ll give you that.”

And so the dance went on. Luke struck, you parried or slipped out of his blade's path with a flourish. You struck, Luke swung his sword and slipped around your blows. Finally, you found the chink in his precious armour. He fell back to his right foot when he deflected a blow. You jerked forward. You jabbed the knife clutched in your left hand toward him as you moved in with the right. Just as you hooked a foot around the back of his leg, Luke’s sword made contact with your left shoulder slicing through sleeve and skin. Luke fell backward with a sharp hiss, his sword flying to the side.

In the end you had laid him out flat in twenty minutes. Luke Castellan had spent the last seven years fighting to win. You had spent them fighting to survive. You supposed it didn’t hurt that the greatest swordsman to enter Camp Half-Blood in nearly three centuries was reluctant to let anything sharp or pointed anywhere near you. You secretly thought he might have been going easy on you for being his soulmate after all. You collapsed on the forest floor beside him, your chest heaving to draw in oxygen.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” Luke huffed.

“Orange isn’t really my colour.”

He turned to you with a wink, “Oh but it is.”

You wave your hand through the air.

“I’ve gotten very good at putting broken things back together over the years.” He tried not to look at the line of stitching that ran from the ankle of your jeans to the rips at your knee. You tried not to look at his cheek. Instead you reached out and trailed your hands across his necklace where the pearls sat snuggly at the base of his throat.

“You’re wonderful.” He brushed his knuckles down your shoulder and they came away red. “Even covered in blood you’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You groaned, “Sweetness, you can’t just say–”

“You call me Sweetness when you visit me.” He whispered it like it was his greatest secret. You traced up his throat to his cheek and pressed your thumb into his dimpled cheek. “You’re still being wonderful. I can’t think when you’re–”

“Wonderful?”

“Okay, Smartass.” He sighed up at the sky, then pulled the both of you to your feet, “Enough lounging, we need to get that cut checked.”

You let him dust the dirt from you and resheath your knives, one in your boot, the other in your belt. Silently revelling in the gentle way he tugs you this way and that. You were well on your way to the infirmary, shoulders bumping and fingers just barely brushing, before he spoke again.

“Where does it come from? The nickname.”

“Sweetness?”

He looked away from you and squinted off into the distance, as if you were suddenly too bright to look at, “Yeah.”

“My mom used to tell me this story about meeting her soulmate. She probably meant Poseidon, but at the time I thought it was about my dad,” The back of Luke’s hand bumped into yours again, his fingers catching yours, his gaze resolutely ahead but you were definitely holding hands. “She said it felt like swallowing lightning and gorging yourself on popping candy. Like sweetness.”

“You like popping candy?”

“It’s my favourite.” You gave him a queer look as if to say, it’s not yours, you utter heathen?

Luke laughed at you all the way to the Apollo Cabin as he listed all the reasons it was the sub-par candy option. Nonetheless, when you emerge from the infirmary, he unloads a fistful of little packets he’d pinched from the candy bowl when the Apollo kids’ hadn’t been looking.

“Who has sub-par candy options now, Sweetness?” You teased, your mouth crackling merrily.

“Keep calling me that and you can have all the terrible candy you want.”

“Try some,” You shoved a packet toward him, because if he kept saying silly things like that and looking at you the way he was you were liable to do or say something equally as stupid. “You’ve got half my soul, maybe it’s our favourite.”

“I don’t think they had popping candy when we had one soul,” He flicks the packet held between your fingers. “And aren’t you the one who says we’re puzzle pieces not halves?”

“You have been listening to me!”

“Hard not to.”

“Asshole.” You flashed your teeth at him.

“Smartass.” He said, but the bite wasn’t there. He was watching you again, in that way he did sometimes before he said something stupid that made you want to throw yourself in the lake or run back to Manhattan or do something equally as stupid, like kiss him. “You–”

You twisted your hand in the front of his shirt and jerked him toward you, the little sachet crinkling in your fist. For a heartbeat, you were both silent, an inch away and staring as if you could will the other to be the one to press forward. But then he closed his eyes and Luke Castellan was kissing you. Like lightning and popping candy. With all the elegance of two lovestruck teenage fools and all the heat of two people who knew they had all the time in the world but still couldn’t bear to waste a second of it. His hand held you by the chin and then splayed lightly across your cheek and tucked hair softly behind your ear. You were only just reaching for the mess of curls at the back of his head when someone wolf whistles.

“My favourite.” Luke grinned, licked his lips and then turned. Hands stuffed in his pockets and a big stupid grin stretched across his face, as he shouted at you, “Stay out of trouble.”

You flip off the Aphrodite kid who’d whistled at you, and hurried back to the Apollo Cabin. You and Luke Castellan were going to need a lot more popping candy.

You’re in the lake, encased in an air bubble, sprawled out side by side with your backs against the sand, when Luke tells you what he’s done. That mere weeks before your arrival he had done the unthinkable. He had robbed the King of the Gods blind and betrayed half the Pantheon in doing so. You weren't sure whether to laugh or cry.

You had simply laid there, silently, for what had felt like aeons to Luke but maybe that had only been because he had to keep reminding himself not to hold his breath. He wasn’t drowning. You weren’t going to turn him in. He hadn’t just blown his whole plan and his life with his soulmate in one fell swoop. He just had to keep breathing and wait for you to say something. He thinks that maybe your mother had passed on some divine knack for diplomacy as Queen of the Sea with the way you seem to turn the issue of his betrayal over and over in your head.

After a while, you reach your arm toward the bubble and the sky. For a brief, terrifying moment, Luke thinks you’re going to pull the lake down on him. When you don’t Luke spends another infinite second wondering whether he would just let you do it.

He tosses the thought aside and focuses on the coin weaving between your knuckles. Like magic, it appears and disappears around the bends of your fingers but it wasn't real magic, just you fidgeting. He pressed his lips together and tried not to think about you at the bottom of the Hudson River, flipping your coin and turning over the issue of your soulmate and your brother and the camp you’d left behind. What is it you had said? You’d had plenty of time to think about those things.

Maybe that's what you need now – time. He’s about to offer it to you, offer to swim his way back to shore so you can think, even if he'd probably drown on the way. He’d give you all the time in the world if he had it.

But then you finally speak, the golden drachma rolling between your fingers, “If you hurt my brother, soulmate or not, I will kill you.”

“I am your soulmate.” He insisted as the implication made his skin itch.

“You are.” Your smile was so gentle it almost felt sad. “So you understand that my love for him comes before my hatred of the Gods. If you have put him in danger wit–”

“We get married.” He blurted. “We have a future. I woke you, when you visited me. That must mean I win.”

“It means, if that’s the path we’re even on, if those people are even the versions of us that we become… maybe you don’t hurt Percy.”

“I won’t.” He swore and you weren’t sure how to ignore the half of your soul that lies so sweetly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Maybe.” You swallowed like you’d been chewing glass your whole life, and someone had finally offered you something substantial to sink your teeth into. “Maybe if we leave now, there’s a world in which I don’t have to pick between my blood and my soul.”

Luke was quiet for a long moment, “We could recruit him. You said it yourself, he’ll be more powerful than any of us.”

“He’s twelve.”

“He’s the son of Poseidon.”

“He’s twelve.”

“You were twelve when you left to protect him.”

“And look how that turned out,” Your grin was brittle, but he swore you were still the loveliest creature he’d ever laid eyes on. “I’m sat here planning to betray everything I was raised to follow.”

“You’re going to follow me?”

Your eyes traced the shape of his jaw, his nose, his scar. You looked pained, “I fear I would follow you into much worse, Luke Castellan.”

“I’m trying to lead you to something better.” He reached for your hand, took the drachma from your fingers, and pressed a slow, soft kiss to your palm. He smiled and there were dimples in his cheeks and tears in his eyes as he whispered, “We can try for better.”

“Leave Percy.” You pressed your fingers to his cheek, “Let him come to camp, let him join us when he’s ready.”

“You’re sure he’ll join us?”

“He will, I know it. We just need to let him see the Gods’ apathy for himself.” And you sighed. Luke wondered how many lifetimes your souls had seen, how many times you had searched for each other, how many times you had been torn apart. You sound ancient when you say, “You and I have seen more than enough.”

He turned his head and whispered in the scarce distance between you, “What do you propose?”

“We leave. As soon as anyone catches on, we take anyone who agrees with us and flee.” You brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his knuckles firmly, “We can plot your revenge and plan my new world on the way.”

Luke feels ancient when he promises, “Okay, on the way then.”

But he swears, as you lean forward and kiss him, that no matter how many times you do it this lifetime or in all the lifetimes until this story – of you and Luke Castellan – became ancient, it would still never stop feeling like the first time.

Like lightning and popping candy.

Tag List:

@emelia07 @star611 @7s3ven @kissingyourgrl @myxticmoon @shermanno @moonsficrec @soleilgrec

#luke castellan x reader #soulmate au #luke castellan #pjo luke #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo show #percy jackson show #pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfiction

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konigsblog · 5 months

Text

virgin!soap and virgin!reader

virgin!soap never lost his virginity due to his high standards and expectations. he most definitely believed everything he saw in porn, almost becoming addicted to it because he was so pent up and sexually frustrated with nothing to use other than his hand as an outlet.

you, on the other hand, never lost it due to many reasons. you'd never found the person, the one to claim you. of course, at nighttime when you got horny, you'd be left with pornhub on your phone and your fingers stuffing your cunt, pumping them into you in rhythm with the thrusts. you watched each thrust, wishing you could feel it in that moment, wish you c—

your door opened, your eyes meeting a frantic johnny. you'd both been close friends, or atleast close enough for you both to specify being a virgin. he palmed his huge, hard boner over his boxer briefs, walking over to you while panting heavily with desperation in his voice. he'd pushed for you before, his only desire to be buried inside your warm, wet walls.

“pl-please, love-god, a’ need it...” johnny's dick twitched, watching as you curled your fingers inside your pussy and bit your bottom lip. your slit was soaked in slick, sweet cum running down your thighs in droplets. the head of his hard dick seeped pearly beads of precum onto your clit, spitting on his hand and stroking himself ‘til he had a white ring of his sticky cum forming around his shaft, growing even more needy at the sight of your glistening pussy. he dragged his finger up your pussy to your clit, collecting your juices on his fingers. he spread your legs, placing himself between your soft, supple thighs, gripping into the flesh on your ass and stuffing his wet fingers into your mouth while his other hand angled the tip of his dick into your cunny.

he slowly eased inside, muffling your loud moans with his thick, calloused fingers, moving them in harmony with his hips. “tha’s right, bonnie--hah...-clean those fingers’ f’me...” he pushed further inside, breath hitched in his throat at the tightness throbbing around his heavy cock. johnny's breath quickly became laboured, watching you drool and slobber around his fingers as he fucked deeper into you, finally pushing inside with one hard thrust. your eyes glistened when you felt him push up and press against your womb, his tip leaking cum as he slid back and forth, rocking into you with his eyebrows furrowed with pleasure.

you arched your back, jaw slack as he slid his fingers from your mouth, dragging his wet fingers down to your nipples, toying and teasing with them. it was as if they hardened and perked up at the sight of him, like they needed a little roughening up — a little pulling. he twisted and pulled at your nipples, distracting you from the way he was thrusting and rutting into you, his shaft sloppy with your juices coating him.

“christ, doll--ye’re so fuckin’ tight!” he cried out and threw his head back, broad hips working and moving in and out of you. your eyes watered with pleasure, feeling as he pressed his chest against your own, skin rubbing against eachother as he slammed into your puffy pussy, ruining you. the sounds of moaning and skin slapping filled the room, your sex drooling around him. his rough skim turned sweaty, glistening and musky, the scent of his cologne drowned out by slight sweat filling your nostrils. you could still smell the smoke off him, taste it on his lips...

soap's hand nestled in your hair, tugging slightly to get you to look him in the eyes as he took you for the first time.

your head thrown back and neck covered in bruise and hickeys, panting and gasping at each rough thrust! ‘til johnny was panting needily, unable to control himself anymore as he pushed into your hole repetitively, leaving you gaping and raw. he rubbed your clit with two fingers, feeling your thighs shake like a leaf and your walls pulse and clutch around him. your body jerked as you rode your orgasm, squirting against his abdomen and covering him in a thin layer of your fluids. a wet mess forming on the bed as he thrusted harder. the prominent veins on his shaft grinding and dragging against your walls, his trimmed pubes just tickling you, and strings and ropes of his hot cum filling your hole.

he pulled out slowly, a low and deep growl leaving emitting from his chest as he held his throbbing, sore cock, smearing his thick, weeping tip against your clit while your body shook and trembled. hair sticking to your forehead and johnny passing out beside you, his half-hard dick pressed between your ass as he knocked himself out.

#female reader #female insert #cod #call of duty #cod mw #mwii #mw2 #soap mactavish #cod soap #soap call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader #cod x reader #virginity loss #orla speaks #modern warfare

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Impure

18+

This is so dark and fucked up and I should be doused in holy water because of this but imagine Step dad Bucky lusting after you and how fucking innocent you are. That pretty little silver ring on your finger is practically begging for him to ruin you.

“You’re a good girl” He states, struggling to keep his voice neutral, the hint of a growl lingering in his tone as he takes your hand, nodding to the purity ring sitting on your finger.

You nod, keeping your eyes away from his, trying to ignore the way your stomach churns, your body feeling warm feeling his rough calloused hand. Something about the way he looks at you makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees, his steel blue eyes looking into your soul.

****

You know its wrong but you can’t stop yourself, the throbbing between your legs aching. You’d always managed to ignore the feeling before but tonight you can’t. You sigh in relief letting your fingers rub the ache away, your body feeling hot at the new feelings tingling through your body, gasping when you brush over your clit. You speed up your ministrations, whimpering as you feel a deep pressure building in your core, shame and lust clouding your mind because you’re thinking about him.

Little do you know you’re driving insane because he can hear every moan and whine dripping from your lips as he passes your door, his cock leaking at the thought of an innocent thing like you pleasing herself. He thinking about your pretty little hand, that damn ring on your finger, it taunts him.

“What are you doing princess” Bucky cracked your door open, cocking an eyebrow, his eyes trailing to where your hands are in your panties, wetness dampening your sheets. You squeaked, pulling your dress down, trying to cover yourself, but its too late, he’s already locked the door, stalking over to your bed like a predator that's caught his prey.

“I-

“Shh, let daddy take care of you princess” He whispered, sitting on the edge of your bed, moving his hand up to stroke the soft skin of your inner thigh. You whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your eyes growing wide when he takes your soaked fingers, sucking your arousal off. He moaned, greedily lapping his tongue on your finger tips, holding your hand in place after he pulls away with a pop. “Let daddy help with that little achy feeling”

You can’t even get words out, letting him spread your legs and pull your panties off, your tummy fluttering hearing him undo the zip of his jeans. He pulls them off enough to get his cock out, too deep in wanting to ruin your virgin cunt to care about preparing you. He rubs the tip of his cock on you, smirking at the way you moan, pleasured sighs slipping past your lips.

“We-we can’t” You manage to stutter out, but your legs are still wrapped around him, your desperate pussy screaming.

“It’ll be our little secret” He whispers, toying with the ring as he pushes his cock into you, groaning at the way you cry out, the stretch burning and pulsing.

“Let me in baby, let daddy help you” He grunted, forcing his cock in all the way into you, thrusting immediately, getting off on the way you cling onto him, begging for him to slow down.

“You can take it you little slut, you’re not a good girl” He taunts, leaking into you, smirking against your skin when you whine in protest.

“Look at you, taking your step dads cock like a whore. Spreading your legs like a slut, craving cock, you’re dripping making a mess” He gripped onto your hand, growling at the way the silver ring glinted under your bedroom light, “Such a cute little virgin, have you thought about cock before princess? You ever thought about how it’d feel, having a man tear your pussy apart, letting him shove his dick into all your tight little holes?”

“N-No!” You shook your head desperately, you’d always pushed those thoughts away, refusing to give into sin, saving yourself for the right man.

“Then tell me baby, who were you thinking of when you were playing with your princess parts” His eyes bore into you, challenging you as he sped up, pounding you into the mattress.

You whined, biting your lip, not wanting to say anything, trying to hide your face from him, how could you tell him you were thinking about-

“Thinking about your step dads cock huh, is this how you wanted me to take care of you baby? This is what you needed, your slutty little pussy needed her daddy to make her cum?” His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re running around with this pretty little ring around as if you don’t think about my dick inside you? As if you’re not wetting your bed, rubbing yourself, trying to make yourself feel good but you can’t. You need my cock baby, you’re just a filthy cockhungry whore”

“M’not a whore” you whimper, a soft little pout on your lips making Bucky even more feral than before. He bit your bottom lip, tugging in between his teeth as he continued to slam in you, groaning at the way your eyes rolled back.

“Shhh, take it baby, my dirty little girl, not so innocent, are you?”

“I am” you sob out, clenching around his cock, your juices squirting out of you as you climbed higher and higher. Bucky could feel his balls throb, ready to bust in you, his cock throbbing at the vice grip you had on his length.

“C’mon baby, you know you want to, you know it’s wrong huh? You know it’s bad, good girls don’t to that, good girls don’t think dirty thoughts” He taunted you further, a wicked grin curling on his lips at the way you fluttered at his words. “Good girls don’t spread their legs like this or play with their little pearls, you know that right baby? Good girls wait till marriage, but not you huh princess?”

Your moans grew louder, throwing your head back as you felt the pressure build again, pleasure and tightness making your cunt throb around his cock. You bit down onto his shoulder making Bucky growl in pleasure, unable to hold off any longer. He started to jack hammer into you, warmth crawling from the base of his cock to the tip of his cock.

“Cum, cum all over your step dad’s cock, get my dick wet you slut, give me your sweet cream baby- FUCK” Bucky roared against your skin, flooding your cunt with his cum, fucking it back into your sore pussy. He hissed as he pulled out, tucking his cock back into his pants, trying to ignore the way he wanted to take you apart again immediately after.

You panted, fiddling with the ring on your finger, gasping when he grabbed your hand before you tried to slip it off. He pushed it back down, kissing your hand before coming down to brush his lips by your ear.

“It’s our little secret, remember?”

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writingforatwistedworld · 4 months

Note

Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.

I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .

If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33

Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-

Well, better late than never.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic

(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons

Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)

Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)

So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes

Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah

You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both

Emphasis on the “was”

You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things

If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led

Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace

Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion

But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)

At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever

So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle

And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well

Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community

Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home

Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley

The war came and went away

If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs

And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease

Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal

But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?

If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?

If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #platonic #twst x reader #baul zigvolt #twst baul #Platonic Baul #tw: yandere #tw: religion #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: family problems #tw: unhealthy mindset

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szasfuckingwife · 11 months

Text

CANDY

TOJI FUSHIGURO x FEM!READER + MEGUMI

WARNINGS: FLUFF, megumi is a kid, megumi initially doesn’t like y/n, cute ending

A/n: i love kid megumi he’s SO CUTE omds

“Gumi!” You jumped as you saw the small dark haired boy on the way back to Toji’s bedroom.

You and Toji had been dating for a mere seven months and things were going great. I mean, not every relationship makes it this far- especially when one of you has a child.

When you met Megumi, you were surprised on how quiet he was. Most five year olds run up and down the walls all while screaming the house down but Megumi appreciated silence. Where the other kids were playing outside in the sun, drenching themselves with water, Megumi liked to draw that very scene but just from inside.

Toji always thought it was a little strange but never questioned it. He thought that this was what he gets for giving his mother hell when he was a child. The first thing Toji told you about his son was, ‘Well…he’s different from most kids.’

You knew that Megumi’s mother had passed and those shoes were unimaginably huge shoes to fill. So, you took your time with him. You rarely stayed the night, you only took him out on the weekends, you tried to elongate your conversations the more you spoke. Not only did you want a relationship with the child, but you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea that you were his mother’s replacement.

But the kid seemingly wasn’t a fan.

So, when you bump into him in the dimly lit hallway, you’re scared shitless.

“Gumi, what are you doing up?!”, you nervously chuckle. The child looks blankly at you, as if he thinks you’re the dumbest person to ever walk. “It’s far too late, you should be asleep.”

“Why are you here so late?” He asks, his voice was monotone. You chuckle again nervously, wishing Toji could wake up right now and try to explain things to his son.

You tightened your lips, “Ah…well…you see-”

However, your voice left you when Megumi walked away. You stood there in shock. Was it something you said? Was he mad that you were there when normally you’d be gone?

Deciding it’s best not to leave a child on his won at night, you follow him. It’s hard to see anything due it being night and nothing is lit up. But you figure that Megumi must have night vision or something due to the speed in which he walked.

You heard the back door open and every single fear came to mind. Immediately, you run to the door, panic laced in your every movement. Your brows furrow in the dark, trying to spot him.

“Megumi!” You yell.

But just then, you hear a tiny ‘shh!’ come from beneath you.

When you look down, you’re met with a sight that warms your heart.

Megumi strokes the head of one of the two dogs on his lap. You see the plate of hot dogs resting beside him with a glass of milk. The dogs looked comfortable in Megumi’s arms, you could’ve swore you saw the dark one nuzzle into his touch.

“You’re being too loud!” Megumi whispered.

You found the courage to sit next to Megumi, even though this was the first time you and him have ever been together without Toji. “So…what do you have there?”

“Dogs.” He answers.

He’s witty, like his father.

You chuckle slightly, “Who’s their owner?”

Megumi shakes his head and sighs. “They don’t have an owner. Or a mama.”

In regret of your question, you look away. “Their mama must’ve been a good mama. They’re good boys. They listen, they’re calm. Well…sometimes. They bark at me if I don’t give them my toys to chew on.”

Your heart aches for the boy. Having to grow up without a mother must’ve been tough, not only for Toji but for him too. Toji has confided in you how tough not having Megumi’s mother around can be.

There are some things you just need your mom for.

“But I love them. They’re kind.” He says. “They always come when dad’s asleep. We always play fetch and hide and seek together. But today, I think they’re just tired.”

You find yourself smiling at Megumi. He’s extremely mature for his age. “I think my dad knows about them. He always says the ‘sh’ word when they poo in the garden.”

Megumi’s comment humours you, since you have heard the very same ‘sh’ word leave Toji’s mouth when he finds presents left by the dogs.

“Are you my new mama?” He asked you, finally looking directly at you. His question was scary. There was no right answer to give.

Do you say yes and let Megumi think that you want both him and his father to forget the existence of his mother? Or do you say no and let Megumi think that you don’t want to have him as a son?

“Megumi…I’m whatever you want me to be.” You reply. “Whether it’s a stranger, a friend, dads girlfriend, or someone that helps you look after the dogs at midnight.”

He looks at you attentively, “But all I know is that you are an amazing kid. And I’d be a lucky woman to have you as a son. I’m sure your dad agrees.”

“I know dad likes you a lot.” You nod. “And auntie Maki likes you.” You nod again, chuckling.

“I think my mama would like you.”

Tears sting your eyes as you look at him lovingly. For such a young boy, he’s so open and beautiful with his feelings. “I think I’d like her too.”

You see him nod and stand up, struggling to hold both dogs.

“Where ya going?”

“They’re stinky. I’m going to give them a bath.”

You are again left behind as Megumi walks away with unrealistic speed. A chuckle leaves your lips as you get up and chase after him, shouting out, “Wait for me..”

Toji’s in the car, driving you home with his son in the backseat. Again, Toji yelled out an expletive when he saw the poo left behind by the dogs. You remember Megumi smiling at you as Toji began to clean it up.

Toji finally pulls up as he reaches your apartment. He gets out first and you’re reminded that Toji would never let you open your own door if he’s around.

You get out of the car as Toji opens the door. You stare up at the raven haired man, noticing all the details him and his son share.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek in the meanwhile. You nod at him before kissing his scarred lips.

You wave to Megumi through the window, surprised when he actually waves back. “You see that? He’s starting to like me!”

Toji smiled at your amusement, giving you one more parting kiss. There was a sense of pride with seeing both his girlfriend and son starting that bond. If he’s ever done any wrong, Megumi and you are those little things that he got right.

As Toji got back in the car, Megumi sighed deeply before clearing his throat.

“Got somethin’ to say, lil man?” Toji looks at him through the rear mirror.

The boy nods, “I like Y/N.”

Mentally, Toji is screaming, jumping for joy as fireworks explode. But, in front of his son, he saves face, giving a small hum as a response.

“I like her too.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi fluff

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heartelysia · 4 months

Text

rich flex

"can you hit a lil' rich flex for me" ; in which you're nothing more than roommates

cw ; ooc leon, jealousy, panty stealing, panty sniffing, college au, re2 leon, use of sex toys, masturbation, creepy behaviour from leon

note ; this is also reposted from my ao3! college roommates au :3 [m.list] (i lovd leon n his little butt chin sm in re2 😭😭 its so cutw wtf) AND YES! THAT IS MANGA LEON KENNEDY!! ILLVE HM!!

she was the moon and he was the sun, polar opposites. she was closed off and reserved whilst the blonde wasn't much of an extrovert per say but compared to her, he shined much brighter.

people loved him and everything he had to offer but on her end, people would still ask, 'who is that?'. that was one of the many results of only choosing to attend night lectures or acting like a complete ghost during the semester.

she knocks on leon's door - if the crappy wood with a knob could be considered one - holding a half-full laundry basket in her other hand. a few moments pass, shuffling and the rolling of one of those wheelie chairs are heard through the thin walls. the door creeks open as a little bit of sunlight spill from the window in his room.

"oh hey y/n, whats up?", his soft, boyish voice rings throughout the hallway, his cheeks flushed a bright pink colour as his breath is bated with each second. you gesture to the laundry basket in your hand, holding onto your quiet demeanour. leon's eyes follows your movements before suddenly lighting up. "oh yes! it is my turn this week, thank you y/n!", he softly beams, fully opening the door as he grabs the basket from you and places it beside his stack of clothes.

you give the boy a simple hum before turning on your heel, heading back into your little man woman-cave. leons gaze lingers on you, watching the way you dragged yourself back into your cramped room. sometimes he wished he could hear your sweet voice more but we can't have everything we want right?

leon glances back into his room, glazing his eyes over each neat cabinet and organized stack of books before they land on the new addition of laundry. he hoped he didn't seem too off when speaking to you, after all, he still gets nervous around you despite being roommates. the blonde quickly brushes the thoughts out of his head as he grabs his pile of dirty clothes and dumps it onto your laundry, filling the basket to the brim before picking the heavy luggage up and waddling out of his room.

the sound of his footsteps reverberate against the crappy wooden planks as he awkwardly stumbles to the tiny laundry room. leon hooks his fingers under the lid, lifting it up as a scent of detergent pods hit his face. he quickly grabs the full laundry basket before tipping its contents into the washer before placing the empty basket back onto the floor.

he opens up one of the cabinets on top and grabs the detergent pods, popping one into its place. as leon is about to close the top and start the machine, something catches his eye, a frilly white pair of underwear. the blondes cheeks light up in embarrassment yet the familiar coil in his stomach grows as he feels his cock stir at the thought of your panties wrapped around his thick length.

leon swallows the lump in his throat, gulping as his eyes stay glued onto your undergarment. it was a morality debate in his head, he could either steal your panties or he would not. he gulps one last time before reaching his hand in and snatching the used underwear up, he scrunches the soft material up and shoves it into his pocket.

a small wave of guilt crashes into him but he brushes it off, closing the lid before turning on the washer, the water spilling from its sides as it dampens the fabrics. he places his hand into his pocket, clutching your panties in his hand as his breathing becomes ragged and his mind swirls with lewd fantasies of you.

a whine rumbles in his throat as the sound of your voice note plays in his headphones. with his cheeks flushed, ragged breathing and a fleshlight pumping up and down his length, his soft groans and moans fill the air. leon's leaky tip beads with precum as he replays the same voicemail you left him, stroking his fat cock up and down with the fake pussy.

leon suddenly pauses, he quickly reaches over under his pillow and grabs newly stolen pair of panties. his cock twitches once more, the knot in his stomach threatening to come undone from the thought of sniffing his beloved roommates used panties. he shoves the underwear into his nose, grunting gutturally at the scent of her, stroking his cock just a bit faster now. "f-fuck... you smell so good...", he moans, rutting his hips into the fleshlight as he takes a big whiff of her.

sure, the blonde feels somewhat bad... but he couldnt find his morality in him as of now, not when her delicious panties were pressed up against his nose. with each pump, his angry, swollen tip leaks more and more precum, the fleshlight picking the precum up and using it as lube, only adding to the fiery sensation leon is experiencing.

the knot in his stomach only gets tighter, ready to snap in half as the sound of your cold voice echoes in his ears. "oh fuck- fuck baby... sweetheart...", he grunts, bucking his hips uncontrollably into the fake pussy, wishing it was your sweet cunt he was pounding into. leon wondered to himself, would your pussy be wetter? would you moan uncontrollably as he jackhammers his cock into you? or would you be restraining your moans and making him fuck you till it finally spills out? it didn't exactly matter to the boy as his cock was speaking for him.

with one last final pump, his thick warm cum spills from his fat tip, followed by a series of depraved moans as he desperately grinds into the fake pussy, circling his hips as shots of thick cum come spurting out of his cock.

as he slowly calms down, gently pulling the fleshlight away from him, his ears perk up. a noise that didn't sound like it was from the voice message or one he made. maybe he was insane, maybe it was just him riding down from his high but he swore he heard a soft moan from the other side of the wall, the walls were thin... it could be him imagining things, after all, he still had his headphones on.

he really didn't like it, but what was he meant to do? she wasn't interested in him - at least to his knowledge. the blonde stares at the curly haired male following her from a distance as a look of hesitance was on the mans face.

"y/n?", the mans voice rung loudly, catching a few glances from passer-bys. the girl stops in her tracks, one hand resting on the strap of her shoulder bag, she turns on her heel to face the man. "carlos, what is it?", she softly asks, her voice hardly above a whisper but still rather blunt. the latin american grinned, handing y/n a few pieces of paper stapled together.

"its the draft i did really quickly, since I still dont have your number, i wrote mine on it so text me your thoughts about it.", carlos said, flashing the girl a charming smile. y/n simply hums as she takes the drafts from him, placing it in her bag as she holds the blank expression and mutters a small thank you. despite her lack of physical reaction, carlos seemed to light up a little more as he brings her into an awkward hug of gratitude.

when she pulls away, carlos seemed to look a bit more shyer than before as his cheeks were softly dusted with a gentle pink hue that doesn't go unnoticed by leon.

with his attention away from the lecture, the blonde clenches his jaw in frustration. she was merely a roommate, why did he care so much anyway. leon softly huffs to himself before turning away from y/n and carlos' small interaction and tries to focus back onto the lecture... keyword, tries.

as y/n returns from her lectures, the shared housing space is oddly quiet. leon would typically be cooking something up or playing music in the background. subconsciously, the girl had gotten so used to her roommates habits and routines, it felt weird and wrong without leon's presence made known to her.

despite the fact that they were polar opposites, she found comfort knowing leon was home but the fact that not a single squeak is heard unless it was from made her stomach twist.

"leon?"

her soft voice bounces off of the flimsy walls of the room, the sound of her voice actually audible unlike the multiple times she simply hummed in replacement of speaking. no reply, y/n softly sighs to herself as she drags her feet towards her cramped room, kicking her shoes off.

the girl enters her tiny room, throwing her heavy shoulder bag onto her chair as she slumps down against her bed, eyes closing from exhaustion. small grumbles and groans escape her throat as she rubs her eyes, expressing her distaste for the lengthy project.

she was too lost in her own train of thought that she suddenly jumped at the noise of someone knocking at her room door. when did leon get home?

"y/n, i got us takeout tonight, i hope you don't mind.", leons bashful voice leaks past the door, y/ns ears catching onto the sound of plastic rustling in his hand as she cracks open her door. peering at the handsome man through the obvious crack emits a soft chuckle from the blonde as he just lifts the plastic bags up, flashing y/n a glimpse of the food.

a waft of the scent of delicious chinese takeout has her fully opening her door, following leon close behind like a puppy into the kitchen. leon laughs at the way she gives into food so easily, a big grin tugging at his lips as he places the bag onto the counter. "you dislike my cooking this much?", he queries, taking out the containers one by one whilst staring at his roommate snatching the bamboo utensils from the bottom.

y/n shakes her head at his response, keeping her lips sealed. the blonde softly laughs before opening the food up, the smell of stomach-filling chinese cuisines filled their nose. "smells nice... good selection leon...", she softly mumbles, trying to hide the fact that her mouth was watering. red covers leons cheek as he sheepishly laughs it off, feeling the knot in his stomach once more at her praise, "really? uhm-... well time to dig in!".

y/n softly hums in response as she begins picking up sides into her bowl, "... thanks leon, you're really sweet.", she mutters lowly, slowly popping the food into her mouth. his eyes stay glued on each movement on hers. the way her voice rung in his ears was heavenly, the way her chest heaved faster than usual, the way her hair fell to frame her adorable face, the way her lips wrap around the utensil was so arousing...

fuck, he was hard again.

#resident evil #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut #re2 smut #re2r smut #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy x reader

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velvetmud · 1 year

Note

joel figures out how to make you squirt. he exploits this discovery brutally

hhhhhhhh im in the fucking twilight zone from this

warning(s): explicit 18+, daddy kink, dirty talk, light domsub undertones-ish

joel always said he preferred getting his hands dirty, putting them to work. that same logic bled nicely into his sex life.

he never gave you any half measures when he took you in, shoved you face first in his bed. looked right down his nose at you, holding you in your place and began explaining. now the rules were, either you wet his bed with your cum or you won’t get to cum the next night at all.

first night he’d discovered your particularly messy hidden talent, three of those vicious fingers were curled up in you. pounding and prodding every spongey sweet spot he could find. he was grinning like a sadist down at your scrunched up helpless face.

“you look so fucking perfect riding on the edge, baby. just keep holding it. don’t wanna spoil the ending so soon.” his other hand crept down to spread your opening further apart to feast his eyes. listens to the wet squelch when he perks his fingers in a certain way. he tisks at your begs and pleads to give in and finish you off, even after he’s spent a good hour toying with you.

“how’s it feel to fuck on daddy’s fingers like this? bet it feels so good, shit, you’re taking them all up the way up to the knuckle. bet’chu like that, mmm that’s so perfect, lemme hear it.”

your nails latch onto his shoulder, squeezing with irreparable need. the throaty whimpers cry out of you one by one. mixing his names, joel or daddy or fuck keep going keep going please. he eggs you on to scream for him some more, stroking his ego with your unhinged volume when he starts to pick up speed. scissors his runny digits back and forth, feeling your noisy walls closing up on him.

he ducks his head back down to smack his lips with yours. lovingly digs his nose into your cheek while he curls all three of his fingers at once. his happy trail ground down onto you in harsh circles, giving you the perfect friction, fuelling the growing mess of his fingers between your legs. breathless, you pull away from his mouth with quick motion to get a hold of yourself as the pressure became more and more unbearable.

he knows you’re mere seconds away from imploding, the micro movements and noises he’s memorized and replayed over and over in his head happening right under him. he playfully nipped at the side of your ear, sucking the spot with his tongue before whispering:

“you wanna cum on these fingers for me, angel? give me something to taste?”

he can’t help the pitiful laugh at your blatant desperation. “yes yes please, please will you let me—“

joel gears up to hear your pretty sounds when you cry for him again, his half lidded eyes swimming with want when you clench around his fingers once, twice.

you squirmed and twitched as if he fed you back to god himself with an exorcism.

he snaps his head down to stare in awe when he feels your cum drenching his fingers. a warm splash gushed from your legs as he rips his fingers out, admiring the work he’s done on your weeping pussy.

“atta girl, baby. made a nice big puddle, all for me. so fucking sexy.” he dips his face down and inspects the mess, nuzzling in it shamelessly. any energy you’d normally have to overthink or feel embarrassed got fucked out of you a long time ago.

your fingers drifted down to grip a selfish handful of joel’s hair, feeling him start his journey kissing up towards your belly button.

“sorry, tonight I know I gotta wash the sheets—“

“’sorry?’” he snorts, eyes widening with an almost humorous disbelief. crawling up to lay at the head of the bed, he tangles your legs together and brushed a strand of hair stuck to your face. “you did perfect for me, angel. next time I’ll fucking drink it outta you, if you’ll let me.”

from then on, he’ll insist it’s only a coincidence that he goes out of his way to refill your glass of water a lot more frequently. claims it’s because he wants to make sure his baby girl is full and hydrated, healthy. safe. not as if he was plotting for something he’ll be doing to you later.

after all, he loved putting use to his hands, and wasn’t ever afraid of getting them dirty.

still working on my inbox everybodyyyy I think about the ideas in my inbox everyday I promise I’ll get to finishing up more. thank you for reading and for patience and for telling me any thots

masterlist + buy me a ko-fi

#joel miller smut #joel miller/reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller/you #joel miller x reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller x f!reader #anon #ask

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yunholuvrr · 9 months

Text

closed doors pt.1

summary: poor yunho just can't resist himself, not when you sound like that.

pairing: yeosang x fem!reader, yunho x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: this is just pure smut, yunho is a perv, voyeurism, cheating, unprotected sex, switch!yunho, idk what else to say i blacked out and wrote this in one sitting

part 2

Neither of you heard him walk in. As far as Yeosang was concerned, Yunho would be at work for 3 more hours, and for those 3 hours you were all his. He had some pent up tension that he'd rather take out on you when no one else could hear you scream his name.

Yunho couldn't hear you two either, at least not at first. He set his bags down as usual and made his way to the kitchen for a drink. Only in the silence of scanning the half empty fridge did he start to hear you. Your whining and moaning and unmistakable "Sangie please!" echoing through the apartment. Fuck.

He tries to pick up a soda and tune it out. He could go straight to his room and put on his headset and sink into a round of Valorant. He could forget all about how you were getting fucked senseless just a room over. Right?

"You can take it, right? You're doing so good for me baby," Yeosang grunts, loud enough for Yunho to hear as he shuffles to his room. You can only sigh some string of explicatives and Yunho wonders what he could've possibly been doing to you now. Did he switch positions? Is he using toys on you? Is he just so big that you go stupid? Is he bigger than Yunho? Could you take Yunho, too? Fuck.

He doesn't know how it happens, if you asked him he'd swear up and down that he'd never do such a thing, but within seconds he has his ear pressed to Yeosang's door. The sound of skin hitting skin is much clearer now, and his pace is brutal. Yunho palms the growing bulge in his pants, closing his eyes to try and imagine you more clearly. He probably has you folded in half, ankles on his shoulders and hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he ruins you.

"Sangie please .... I'm so close please," you mumble over and over, orgasm so close you can practically touch it. Yunho's eyes roll back behind his lids, one hand making its way under his pants. He tries to match his strokes to Yeosang's, but the way he's pounding into is nearly inhuman, only turning Yunho on more.

"Do you want to come, love?" A faint click and light buzz gets tossed into the mix. So he does have toys. You cry out even louder and Yunho can't help the small moan that leaves his lips. He instantly clasps his free hand over his mouth, shocked at himself. He barely moans when he's hooking up with someone, but you... you just sound so good getting fucked by his roommate. You sound like you were made to be filled up.

Yunho almost, almost, reaches his own orgasm, lost in his thoughts of you whining under him, pinned down by his hands as he fucks into you endlessly. But the persistent slapping stops, and when he refocuses he hears shuffling right behind the door.

"Let me get you a damp towel, stay there," Yeosang hums before sliding out to the hallway. A lone coke bottle is laying next to his door frame, you must've left it out there before he pulled you inside. He pads into the bathroom and starts running warm water, and that's when Yunho finally lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He had never moved so fast, hand scratching against his zipper as it flew from below his waistband, body silently and expertly slinking into his own room before freezing in place. His muscles relax at the sound of running water and he quietly sinks into his bed.

His dick is still painfully hard, and the adrenaline of almost being caught is only making him hornier. Shouldn't he feel ashamed? But the shame turns him on, too. No matter how much he tries to talk himself out of it, he can't help it. He runs his slender fingers along his member, desperately trying to build up to the pace his ears got accustomed to earlier. Your voice echoes through his head.

He doesn't know how long you've been standing there. Hell, he doesn't even know how long he's been touching himself, slowly coming closer and closer to the edge at the thought of you. You noticed Yunho's bags as you hugged your boyfriend goodbye. He had just gone to get some food, but you welcomed the short break to compose yourself. But when did Yunho get home? Did he know you were there? Might as well say hi, you thought.

Nothing prepared you for the sight in front of you now. He made the mistake of leaving his door a crack open, just enough for you to see him splayed out on his bed. Head tilted back into his pillows, right hand making quick work of his dick, which had to be the biggest you've seen in your life. His face is tinted a cute shade of pink, heart shaped lips parted in pleasure. He genuinely looks gorgeous so close to coming. Your body moved before your mind did.

"Yunho?" Lightly pushing the door open wider, you finally got his attention. He froze, his doe eyes staring at you for a second before shutting in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I was, um," he starts, but you cut him off.

"When did you get home?" He opens his eyes again, staring at you in confusion now. "Early enough to hear us, I suppose?"

You swear his fingers twitch around his dick, "I really didn't mean to intrude on you two..."

"Ah, so that's why you're jerking off by yourself instead?" You take a step closer, fully in his room now. You've been in here a few times, usually to play a game or two with both of them. The air was undeniably different than then though, dripping with unspoken need.

Yunho's beyond confused, but he makes no effort to move as he watches you slowly step closer. You would've left if you didn't want him, right? You wouldn't be so shamelessly staring at his dick if you didn't want him. Right?

"Were you thinking about me this whole time?" You gingerly sit on the edge of his mattress. Everything about this was so wrong, especially when Yeosang could come back at any second. But your brain was clouded by the sight of Yunho touching himself, eager to do the same.

"What are you doing?" His voice wavers, eyes following you. God, he looked so precious like this, scared and exposed but turned on all at the same time.

"You," he shudders at your instant response and you lean over him. There's a moment of hesitation, an acknowledgement from you both of how wrong this is. But neither of you could control yourselves.

He crosses the line first, reaching up and pulling you on top of him into a kiss. It wasn't romantic or thoughtful in the slightest, just spit and tongue and lust moving together. His other hand clinged to your hip, urging you to straddle him. You obliged, biting his lip before leaning back. You couldn't help but roll your hips on top of him, and his grip on you tightened.

"Fuck y/n," he groans, silently begging you to do it again. His cheeks are flushed bright red with shame now, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. He's so fucking pretty under you, you can't help but tease.

"How long have you wanted me like this?" You grind again. The thin sleep shorts you threw on are the only thing separating his aching dick from your heat, and wetness is already starting to seep through. He doesn't respond, only panting and bucking up into you frantically.

"Why'd you stop," he whines, breathless, as you still completely.

"You didn't answer me. How long have you wanted to fuck me, love?" You burn holes into his sweet doe eyes that look back at you, searching for some friction again. "Was today the first time you thought of it?"

"No," he whispers, even more ashamed.

"Then when?" You rest your weight back fully on top of him, only giving enough relief to make him answer.

"Since you started dating him, fuck," he bucks up again and you let him. You wonder how many time's he's listened to you get fucked senseless in the next room over. He's vocal now, groaning at the feeling of precum and your slick covering his dick. When he makes eye contact with you, his shameful sweet appearance has been replaced by something almost animalistic. You give in, knowing Yeosang could be back at any minute, and you need him just as much.

"You're much bigger than him, you know," you coo, sliding your soaked shorts to the side and lining yourself up, "but you don't know how to pleasure me like he does. Not yet, anyway."

"Please," he sighs at the sight, "you can do whatever you want to me. Please just do it already."

You only mumble a small "needy" as you lower yourself onto him, taking him fully. It's quick and it burns and you feel the slightest sense of guilt at being filled up by someone who isn't your boyfriend, but it's all worth it for the choked moans that escape Yunho's mouth. If you thought he was pretty earlier, he's fucking beautiful now. Eyes closed, brows furrowed in pleasure, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead in sweat, lips swollen and parted as he takes in shaky breaths. God, he's perfect.

It doesn't take long for you to start moving in tandem, rolling and bouncing like your life depends on it. One of his hands traces up your side to rest on your boob, squeezing harshly every so often. Before you know it, he plants his feet firmly behind you and pulls you down, setting his own pace. He wraps both arms around your torso and pounds into you relentlessly, nothing but the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

"Is this how he fucks you, hm?" He growls into your ear and you choke out a cry because yes, this is exactly how Yeosang was fucking you not even an hour before. And it felt so good, so so good, but this feels so much better. Yunho fills you up in no way you've ever felt before, and his frame is so big you couldn't escape if you tried.

He pulls your hair down, forcing you into the crook of his neck. All you can feel is him moving beneath you, grunting into your ear as he finally gets what he so badly wanted. And then he stills.

"Why'd you stop baby?" You look up, ears ringing from the sudden silence. But when you meet his gaze, he's staring at the door. Your stomach drops.

"It's not what it..." Yunho chokes out, frozen in place.

"I knew you liked him babe," Yeosang calmly walks into the room, cap covering his eyes, takeout bag still in hand, "but you could've just asked me. I would've said yes."

#yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #yunho oneshot #this is sooo bad #but oh well

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