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nehswritesstuffs · 2 years

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Inherited Will, Destiny of the Age, Graveyard of Ambition and Dreams - Part 1

Also crossposted on FFN and AO3.

Forty-two years ago, the Great Pirate King, Gold Roger, was executed in front of a crowd in Logue Town. The place of his birth was raucous and electric with excitement, rage, fear, and disdain, not only for Roger, but for the government executing him as well. He spoke his final words loud and clear, daring the world to find his treasure with a laugh, kicking off the Great Age of Piracy.

Decades have passed since then. The world has fallen into the hands of monsters. A government once strong lay shattered. Tenuous treaties and fragile alliances have fallen. Despots and tyrants have taken their place, leaving the rest of the world to either pick up the scant pieces that remain, or shut themselves off for their safety.

People pray to the Sun God Nika. Their salvation shall never come; their god is dead.

This is the story about those who are left.

This is the story of the Straw Hat Pirates.

(Notes under the cut.)

Okay! So! Context! This is actually a rehabbed story that I originally began back in high school… which was fifteen years ago. For context, I originally started writing this during the Thriller Bark Saga, before Brook even joined the crew, and last updated it pre-timeskip. Ace died while I was writing the first version of this. It took such a toll on me that I just dropped this thing cold a month later, saying that I’d pick it back up again when I was up to it.

Well, I’m up to it.

Thankfully, the amount of time that has passed is enough to make me able to really take a critical look at the original version and the one that’ll be posted here. If you’ve been around enough to recall my original back on FFN, don’t worry: I’ve been able to excise a lot of what comes off now as just weird and thematically wonky. It aged very poorly. That’s okay though, as it shows how much further I’ve come since then. One can do a lot of learning in fifteen years. The original also felt very empty, in a sense, but I now know that’s also because I was literally working with only, what, a third of the series when I first laid everything out? There’s more depth now, amongst other things, despite the fact I’m keeping some beats/elements while changing others, so it won't be a complete rehash. Language will be a big part of this, as well as characters and factors we’ve learned about in-canon during the interim. This past summer (plus some) has been almost all prepwork for this, so hopefully that will show. I will also take this opportunity to say that the original actually predicted a couple really specific things I’m not proud to have predicted, but hey… sometimes you write teenage edgey garbage, and sometimes your teenage edgey garbage is a window into the future of not only your favorite series, but the state of your generation. Them’s the breaks, I guess.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

One – Romance Twilight

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A pale, calm dawn broke on the horizon, washing the small spit of an island in its soft glow. Its solitary resident crawled out of her makeshift shelter and stretched herself awake—there was no sleeping while the sun was up. She took the straw hat from her neck and placed it upon her head as she made her way down to the beach. There was nothing she could see in the distance, so she shrugged and got to work on getting some breakfast. Before long she had a fire going and freshly-speared fish grilling—she needed to conserve the fruit on the island without knowing when someone else would get there.

When indeed; she had been stranded for a week. Without any of the tools to fix it, she glared at her broken dinghy with a disdain she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to process at the moment. The woman threw another plank from the boat on the small fire—at least it was still good for something.

Eventually, the mouth-watering smell of grilled fish began to reach the woman’s nose. She was excited—her catch was larger than before—and it appeared as though she might actually get to eat her fill for once. One bite when they were done and it tasted as though the cay was actually heaven. She squealed in delight; at least she wasn’t going to starve any time soon, and her water barrel was far from running dry thanks to the gentle rain from the night before.

As she ate, the woman kept watch on the horizon. She was on her last piece of fish when she noticed a dark speck and stared it down. There had been many traitorous dark specks on the horizon before, though eventually, she realized that this one was the real deal. Jumping and hollering, she tried to get the craft’s attention, with it coming ever closer.

Slowly… it was headed her way on the current alone.

No one was shouting back, or visibly trying to reach shore, or visible period.

Something was very, very wrong.

“Shit,” she cursed when she realized she wasn’t being answered. She pulled a length of rope from her ruined dinghy and made a lasso, throwing it once the boat was close enough. It took a couple tries, but she was able to snag the small craft and pull it up to shore. She looked inside and grimaced: three men about her age were laying there, looking sunburnt, half-dead, and definitely worse for wear. They seemed thin and malnourished, with faded, ratty clothes that were in just as bad of shape as their frayed, ventilated sail. One even seemed to have many scars—more than her, which was an accomplishment—and another’s eyeglasses were cracked and chipped. Pulling them ashore, she put her ear to their chests to check for heartbeats—at least they were still alive.

Getting them out of the sun and beneath the trees, the woman took the water she had gathered and poured a little bit into each of her guests’ mouths. When it seemed to go down, she grabbed her spear and went to go catch more fish on the other side of the island. By the time she returned with fish in-hand, one of the men had woken up and was marveling at the fact he was still alive.

“You speak Eastern?” she asked. The sound of her voice spooked him, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He ran a hand through his black hair when he realized she had likely been his rescuer and chuckled weakly.

“Yeah, we do.”

“Then don’t move,” she advised. “You’re still kinda weak.”

“I thought we were goners,” he admitted. Then it dawned on him. “You… uh… live here…?”

“Temporarily, as of late,” she shrugged. She took her cup and filled it with water, handing it to him. “Soon as you three are better again, I’d appreciate it if you could help me get out of here considering how your boat works and all.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” He watched as she tossed a couple more planks on the fire and began gutting the fish. She could tell that he was watching her motions and not her, which meant that the old childhood scars on her limbs and face did not frighten him or make him nauseous. It was actually a rather novel reaction. “You cook?”

“Under better circumstances, yeah. I’m not a cook, but I won’t starve.” She looked at him and let out a chuckle. “I’m Rika.”

“I… uh… I’m Piiman; you can call me Manni. Tamanegi, Ninjin, and I were trying to reach Shells Town. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yeah… don’t.”

“We hear if someone just lays low—”

“Just trust me: don’t.” She poked at the fire and embers crackled into the air. “I just came from there.”

They stayed quiet for a while, the sounds of the ocean and fire contrasting against one another. Piiman sipped the water cautiously while he watched Rika, embarrassed that he was at this stranger’s complete mercy. His head throbbed and he felt cold—he was definitely in no position to argue much.

“Where are you headed, then?” he wondered.

“Logue Town.”

That caught his interest. “Why there?”

“…because, that’s going to be my first step to fixing this mess.”

“This mess…?”

“Yeah—don’t you remember when we were little and things were weird, but not… well… total shit?”

“Well, of course, but…”

“…but what…?”

“How do you propose on doing that? You’re one person.”

Rika grinned widely and stabbed a fish-laden stick by the fire.

“I’m gonna be King of the Pirates.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It took a while for the other two castaways to wake up, but once they did, all three men bounced back from near-starvation and overexposure rather quickly as the day progressed. Ninjin seemed the largest and strongest—a quiet man of few words, as she imagined someone with as many scars to be—while Tamanegi was particularly chatty once he got going, the bespectacled man saying less than his friend in dozens as many words. Piiman appeared to be the glue that held them together, with his mediation assistance being more than necessary for one to be able to talk while the other had to take a breath.

“It’s down-right decent to be able to interact with someone who remembers and liked the world as it was before,” Tamanegi said. They were sitting around the campfire, eating some scavenged fruits before they went to sleep, for in the morning they would be setting sail for the nearest island. Rika already had a course charted and all the trio needed to do was let her steer their ship.

“It’s weird sometimes, talking to someone younger than us, and realizing what we know as wrong they think as just… normal,” she shivered. “I mean, you don’t look that much older than me, and I was nine when the Summit War happened.”

“We were ten,” Piiman supplied. He hugged his knees as he stared at the fire. “It’s hard to believe that it’ll be twenty years next year.”

“You really want to make it like before then?” Ninjin wondered. Rika nodded.

“It wasn’t perfect, I know that, but if we can get close enough, then it’s an improvement on now.”

“Plenty of things can be considered an improvement to the present day,” Tamanegi mentioned. “What makes you think that you can bring order to the world if you become Pirate King? It won’t be restarting the Government or anything like that…”

“No one has held the title since Roger, and that commands respect,” she explained. “I can put my foot down and get the East Blue Bosses in line, open up places like Wano and Dressrosa, connect people from Germa to Briss…”

“I didn’t think places like that were common knowledge anymore,” Tamanegi frowned. “The movement of such information is restricted.”

“She’s not an idiot, Tam,” Piiman groaned. “Most people can learn about those places, even if it’s just stuff from old books, or stories from old neighbors. We all still had school when the Summit War happened.”

“How did you know, if you are aware that is difficult information to come across?” Rika asked. The men glanced amongst one another and shrugged.

“Our island was on an information lockdown for a lot of years—nothing in, nothing out—but I was able to find things out through discarded newspapers and overheard conversations that the bosses had with visitors,” Tamanegi said. “It’s bad when it’s accurate to say that the Grand Line is potentially less of a mess.”

“You’re pretty strong though,” Ninjin noted. “You came from Shells Town. No one comes from Shells Town.”

“I saw an opportunity and took it; I’m just lucky,” she shrugged. “You three are pretty much the same in that regard, aren’t you?”

“In a way,” Piiman admitted. He took a bite of the fruit he was holding and smiled at it. “This stuff is the best we’ve tasted in a long time.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rika nodded. She then grinned. “I know I’m a one-woman-act right now, but would you three like to join my crew?”

“…and become pirates…?!” Tamanegi’s eyes bugged, absolutely mind-boggled. “Pirates were what ruined our lives to begin with!”

“The Captain didn’t,” Ninjin replied simply.

“Yeah—he was all about living free and doing what was right, even if he lied a lot,” Piiman said, voice soft. Tamanegi relaxed and took off his glasses to wipe tears from his eyes.

“When we were little, there was an older boy in the village… we looked up to him,” he explained. “He’s… well… even one of the best pirates in the world can’t handle a bunch of enemies at once.”

“I looked up to someone too,” Rika said. “He ended up kicking the spoiled wolf that was the pet of a high-ranking military man’s son. I didn’t know him for very long, but he did that for me after the wolf attacked me… and…” She gestured to the hat upon her head. “This used to belong to him—it blew my way right before he was executed as an example.”

“Morgan…?” Tamanegi asked. Rika nodded.

“He’s dead now, so I saw the opportunity while there was a power vacuum and bolted.” She saw the men grow tense—they knew the name well enough.

“Morgan is dead?!” Tamanegi marveled. “How?!”

“In front of the whole town, the Axe-Hand turned towards the wrong throat,” she said. “That was months ago… the end of last year, actually, if I’ve kept time right.”

“We’ve been kinda drifting for about that long,” Piiman said. “We’ve been surviving on others’ leftovers on the varying islands and sandbars that we come across.”

“Then let’s stop surviving and live instead,” Rika grinned. “You can be the first three recruits to the Straw Hat Pirates.”

“More like a founding member of the Straw Hat Pirates,” Tamanegi said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t be a crew of one.”

“You can… it just doesn’t work very well.” Rika held out her hand, palm down. “What do you say?”

“Can’t be worse than before,” Ninjin shrugged, placing his hand atop hers. Hesitantly, Piiman put his hand on Ninjin’s, and then all three looked at Tamanegi.

“What…?”

“It won’t work unless you do it too,” Ninjin frowned. “Come on.”

“Fine…” He placed his hand atop of the pile and Rika’s grin grew wide.

“From this day on, we are the Straw Hat Pirates—we are the ones who are going to fix this age into something more livable, for us and all the ones after us! There is nothing that will stop us from being the best force to hit these seas in nearly fifty years!”

“You’re definitely going to need someone to write this stupidity down if anyone’s going to believe you in the future,” Tamanegi deadpanned. Rika just laughed.

“Shishishi—says one of the guys named after vegetables—if we don’t do it, then who will?” Everyone took their hands back and Rika threw another piece of wood on the fire. “Soon as you three are able, we can set out.”

“Tomorrow,” Tamanegi decided wearily. “If we don’t set out, the harder it will be when we do, and then we’ll run out of provisions here… or worse… get caught by someone who’d rather us not be out wandering on our own.”

“It’s decided, then!” Rika said. She stood and placed her hands on her hips triumphantly. “In the morning, we’ll head on over to the nearest island chain and get more provisions so we can make it to Logue Town and the Grand Line!” She pointed off in the distance, signaling where it was they were headed. “I already have the course—we just have to get on the right current!”

“...like how you found yourself here?” Piiman smirked. Rika pouted in response.

“Listen: I got caught in a storm. That’s why my boat’s wrecked and how come it didn’t wreck anywhere near people. It’s not like you three were able to do much better.”

Only Ninjin snickered at that.

“Look out, six seas!” she said smugly. “We might be late to start, but you will be ours!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: Since I'm writing in English and we start in the East Blue, the "default" is going to be "English = Eastern". We're gonna have a punctuation nightmare from here on out in order to differentiate between all the meta-translated dialogue, so I'll keep y'all abreast of what's going on with that front.

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lunarlegend · 2 years

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it took me like 5 in-game days to finally trigger the reverse proposal event because a different random cutscene began every time i left my damn house 🙃🙃

#that's the only really irritating thing about this game is the long unskippable cutscenes #that take up a whole huge chunk of your day and make you forget what the hell you were doing #story of seasons: trio of towns #Ford

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charliemwrites · 6 months

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Woof woof grrrrrr

Content: Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (reader giving)

The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.

You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)

It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?

You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.

“This isn’t your usual scene.”

Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.

“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”

“It’s been a minute, huh?”

You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.

“How’s your arm?”

His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.

“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.

“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.

He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”

“For that at least.”

You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.

“Right… listen, about that, luv…”

“There you are, bonnie!”

You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.

“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”

“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.

He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.

“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.

“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”

You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.

“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”

Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.

“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”

You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.

“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”

He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…

“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.

You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”

He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”

He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.

“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”

You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.

Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.

“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.

You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.

He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.

You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.

“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.

He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”

You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.

“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.

You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.

“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”

You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.

“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”

“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”

You shake your head. “You’re awful.”

“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”

You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.

(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)

A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.

“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”

You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.

“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”

You suck in a breath. Now or never.

Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.

“Prove it,” you breathe.

He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”

His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”

His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.

When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.

You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.

You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.

“C’mere,” he near snarls.

“Soap, that’s not— mph!”

The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.

“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”

He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.

“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.

He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.

“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”

You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.

“H-hey!”

“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”

“N-no!”

“Then show me.”

You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.

“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.

You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.

He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.

You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.

You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.

“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”

You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.

“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”

“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.

“No, seriously, he’s protective—”

He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.

“W-wait, wait, my—”

He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.

“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.

“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.

“Just-just slow down…!”

He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.

“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”

That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—

He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.

“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”

“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”

You shake your head, but he just chuckles.

“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”

“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.

Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”

You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”

“Woof.”

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au

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wlntrsldler · 3 months

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we can't be friends (wait for your love) | luke castellan

synopsis: where luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood, only to see you (his ex) in a new relationship.

based on we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande

luke didn’t plan on making it out alive from the battle of manhattan, but here he was, back in camp half blood, wishing that he succumbed to his wounds instead of fighting to stay alive. the camp was different, cold and foreign to him, even though he’d spent a good chunk of his life on the campgrounds. all his best and worst memories were made at camp half blood, but that life seemed unreachable now. at this point, luke didn’t know if the memories that he recalled were actually his or if they were just tricks kronos was still pulling on him.

the campers knew him as the ‘traitor.’ the kids he used to help with their sword skills cowered in fear whenever he approached them. the apollo kids only tended to his wounds because they had to and even then, they glared at him and wrapped the bandages just tight enough not to cut off blood flow. the satyrs who used to slip him strawberries from their fields, spoke about him in hushed whispers whenever he walked by them. but the thing that hurt the most was seeing you walk around with theo harvey, hand in hand, just like he used to do with you.

he didn’t have the right to be upset. it’s been years since the two of you were last together, years since he held your hand in his, kissed your lips, felt you asleep on his chest. it was before he turned into this monster with hands stained with the blood of the people he considered friends, considered family. he knew you’d move on. he told himself that he wanted you to be happy, to receive the love that you deserved, but selfishly, he knew deep down that he wanted you to have that with him– not the theo harvey, child of athena, favored by the gods.

at first, luke thought he’d be able to make it through the summer. as far as he knew, the older kids didn’t stay at camp half blood throughout the year, but he was thoroughly disappointed when he found out that a lot of the older kids stayed to guard camp just in case something happened. luke blamed himself for his own suffering. getting used as kronos’ host hurt less than seeing your lipgloss on theo’s cheek when they sparred; or noticing that the necklace he made for you when he was 15 was replaced by the one that theo bought you; or hearing your giggles from across the campfire while theo whispered corny jokes in your ear. he did this to himself.

it made him sick to his stomach. he discreetly moved into the poseidon cabin with percy (he grew tired of his siblings falling silent every time he walked into the hermes cabin. he no longer knew how to sleep in silence because it was always loud and rowdy when his siblings were involved, but alas, that changed too). luke was scared of it at first, knowing that he was on thin ice with the gods, but percy, being percy, scoffed.

“you already tried to dethrone them,” the younger boy joked, trying to lighten luke’s broody demeanor, “i think you staying in a cabin you’re not assigned to is on the bottom of your list of offenses.”

“dude. too soon.”

“my bad.”

the trio tried their best to cheer luke up. they knew that it was probably difficult for him to come back to camp after everything, but it became clear quickly that luke’s mood was not just due to everyone at camp hating him, but rather because one person at camp wanted nothing to do with him.

anyone who saw you and luke interact before everything went down, knew that there was something between you guys that nothing in the world could touch. none of them knew the extent of your bond until it was your voice that snapped luke out of kronos’ control. it took one word. one syllable. luke. the second he heard your voice, it was like a switch was flipped in luke’s brain.

percy made an ill-timed joke after the dust cleared, “if y/n was all it took to bring you back, we would’ve dragged her to see you a long time ago, buddy. would’ve saved us a lot of time.”

“percy.”

on the way back to chb, luke revealed that he made a deal with kronos to keep you out of harm’s way. he only agreed to be kronos’ host if it meant that he would protect you, keep you away from all the bloodshed of the war. the titan agreed but underestimated your stubbornness and prowess. when you showed up to the battle of manhattan, a part of kronos knew that his plan was spoiled.

so luke’s actions, sulking during meals, spending too many hours training, opting to be alone, made sense to them. you hadn’t so much looked in his direction since he arrived at camp half blood; not even a smile, a wave, an acknowledgment of his presence. it was painful to watch luke stare at you from across the room, longing evident on his face, only breaking his gaze when theo finally showed up to take his usual spot next to you. luke still loved you, that part was clear, but at what point was it too much?

annabeth, who’d watched your love story unfold, and was your number one fan, was heartbroken to watch your relationship crumble. she liked theo, her half-sibling was great, but luke was her brother and as much as he messed up, she felt bad for him. you were it for luke. if luke was going to end up with someone, it was you. she always believed that it was written in the stars, crafted by the hands of fate, professed by the goddess of love herself, that in this life you and luke would prevail and when your time came to exist in the afterlife, you’d find each other in elysium. but with how things were looking, annabeth began to question her own belief system.

it happened during one of the many nights luke couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. he threw on one of the hoodies he left behind at camp before sneaking out of the poseidon cabin to smoke a cigarette, a habit he picked up during his days on princess andromeda.

he saw you then, standing by the lake seemingly on patrol. he didn’t know that you’d be assigned to guard tonight. if he did, he probably wouldn’t have come out of the cabin. as much as he stared at you and scratched at his palms wanting to talk to you, he never made an effort to. he knew you well enough to know when you wanted nothing to do with someone and how you were treating him right now made your intentions very clear.

luke was trying his best to be quiet, but he accidentally burned the tip of his thumb with his lighter and let out a hiss. you turned around immediately, sword drawn, in a fighting stance. you narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who was out of the cabins this late at night.

“shit,” luke mumbled, stuffing his cig and lighter in his pocket. he’d been so distracted looking at you, trying to hide himself, that he didn’t notice the fire was so close to his skin. he raised his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t looking for trouble, “i-i’ts uh, it’s just me. sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

you froze in your spot, arm slowly falling to your side. you placed your sword back in its place, walking over to him, “luke?”

it was pathetic how the corners of his lips quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name leaving your lips. he hadn’t heard it since that day and it made a warmth spread across his chest. he wiped the smile off his face as you got close enough to see him, afraid that you’d think he was making a joke out of the situation. he stood there awkwardly as your eyes studied his face and his body, probably assessing if he was a threat.

“hey, y/n,” your name tasted sour in his mouth. he hadn’t called you that in years, always referring to you as baby, or babe, or love, or another cringy pet name that you pretended to hate but the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. using your real name felt too formal, like you were strangers. perhaps you considered him a stranger now. the idea made luke want to disappear. “i just uh, came out to get some fresh air.”

you stayed silent, pursing your lips as you continued to stare at him. luke tried not to think about how much of a mess he looked right now. the sweater was a size too small on him, sleeves falling short on his wrists. his pajama pants were wrinkled and stained with mud where they dragged on the floor on his way to the lake. his curls were a mess on his head. he ran a hand through his hair one too many times while he tossed and turned on his cot. the bags under his eyes weren’t the most flattering and the smaller scars that had been added on his face since the battle were disgusting to look at.

he cleared his throat, “i can go back to the cabin, i-it’s really not a big deal. i’ll just crack a window open or something.”

“where are you staying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “i know you’re not sleeping in the hermes cabin. the stolls told me you haven’t been there in days.”

luke rubbed the back of his neck, “i’ve been staying with percy. ‘m not really welcomed in my cabin right now.”

“i see,” you replied.

“yeah.”

“you need to stop it.”

luke gulped, “stop what?”

“staring at me,” you licked your lips before taking your bottom lip between your teeth. you scruffed the bottom of your shoes on the grass, a tell that you were feeling awkward. he was brought back to the day you confessed your feelings for him.

you were sixteen, he seventeen, right after he returned from his quest. he’d taken you out into the woods to get away from the judgment of the campers about his failed quest. he was lying on his back, pointing out the constellations in the sky, when you got up with your hands on your back. you shyly rocked back and forth on the tips of your toes and the balls of your feet, staring down at him with a red flush on your cheeks.

you started dragging your feet on the floor, ignoring the dirt that kicked up from your actions that stuck on the fabric of your converses. you had mumbled that you liked him and luke couldn’t believe it. he asked you to repeat yourself, louder the second time, partly because he wanted to hear it again, and partly because he thought he was hearing things. when you groaned and walked away, fully believing that he was messing with you, luke jolted from his position and ran after you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, proclaiming his own feelings for you in between fits of giggles and kisses to your cheek.

this scene was the opposite of that. your stare was cold and serious, needing to get this point across. luke thought you looked different. physically, you still looked like his y/n– same hair, same eyes, same lips, but the look on your face was distant. you’d never looked at him like this before, like you didn’t know him at all, like he had no place in the life you created for yourself. luke didn’t know if it hurt more to have you ignore him like you had been doing for weeks, or have you look at him like this.

“i have a boyfriend, luke,” you sighed, “you can’t keep looking at me like that.”

“i-i’m sorry,” he stuttered out, tears burning his eyes. “i just miss you.”

“please don’t do that,” you whispered, turning your head away from him. luke watched you wipe your tears with your forearm and all he wanted to do was engulf you in his arms like he’d done a million times before and hold you until the storm was over. “you don’t get to say things like that to me.”

luke rubbed his jaw, trying to keep his hands occupied, “you know i can never lie to you.”

“i need you to lie to me this time, okay?” you refused to look at him now. “i need you to say that you don’t feel anything for me anymore.”

“i can’t do that, y/n.”

“i spent years loving you and you left, luke. you chose to betray us,” you placed your palms on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. this is why you’d been avoiding him. you knew that the minute he made his way back into your life, you’d fall on your knees, at his mercy. a part of you knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that again, but you also knew that in the off-chance that he would, you wouldn’t survive a second blow. you barely made it out alive after the first one. losing luke for a second time would ruin you. “i like theo. i’m finally learning to live without you and i can’t lose all this progress over some wishful thinking. luke, i can’t do that.”

“it’s not wishful thinking,” luke replied, sniffling.

“stop it!” you sobbed, turning to look at him. your tears were streaming down your face, despair and hurt clouding your eyes, “stop it, please! i’m begging you to let me go. i-i can’t have you in my life. don’t you get it? i’m tethered to you. you’re the other half of my soul. you own a piece of my heart that i can never ever get back, but i-i’m exhausted trying to fight you off.”

luke’s shoulders deflated at the sound of agony in your voice. he took a step back, mouth opening and closing as he tried to will his mind to say something, anything, in response to you. but he couldn’t. where does he even start?

should he tell you that it was the memories with you that kept him sane all those years he was held captive? should he tell you that he visited camp half blood despite knowing that it would cause more harm than good during those years just in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you? should he tell you that when the corners of his vision began to blur, it was the feeling of your hands pressing against his wounds that made him fight to stay alive?

he’d stay alive just to feel your touch, warm and steady hands on his tattered skin as he’d always remembered, for a second longer. he’d use his last bit of strength to place a kiss on your knuckles, injuries be damned because he needed you to know how he felt. he’d use his last breath to tell you that you looked beautiful, bloodied and bruised, under the light of the world burning around you. he’d spend the rest of his life hated by everyone in the world just to have you glance in his direction. he’d spend his time in the afterlife in tartarus if it meant that he had a shot at rebirth, in a life where you loved him again.

“make it easier for me and put me out of my misery,” you choked out, “you at least owe me that decency.”

luke knew that he was difficult to love. his mom went crazy because she loved him. his dad abandoned him because he was too much. thalia hated him because of who he had become. annabeth still flinched when percy made jokes about kronos because it reminded her of what luke did. luke knew that loving him was a chore, a burden, but he never thought that loving him would cause someone so much suffering. especially not you, who told him once that loving him was effortless, as easy as breathing in oxygen in the air. you once said that loving him was simple. it was second nature to you.

now, he watched you cry out in pain. pain that he caused. and he knew he couldn’t in good conscience deny you of your request. luke stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “okay.”

he looked at you, for the last time, before walking away, stumbling in his steps as he left you alone.

#frances writes #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you

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bombombooty · 5 months

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lazy days with the strawhat pirates :)

the days on the sea aren't always full of action, and that's okay! in that moment, it's nice to take the time for yourself... and with your favorite strawhat!

chrs: Monster Trio, Nami, Robin, Usopp

cw: none, just fluff

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Monkey D. Luffy

and even if it may not be as much of a "lazy day" with the eccentric captain, it most certainly is still an enjoyable one. He who can't completely stay still finds fun in irritating others into hanging out or in his terms, "not being boring"- he says this all with a pout as he waddles around whining to his fellow shipmates

yet if it were truly a lazy day, and the rubber man succumbed to the rays of the afternoon sun, he finds his own enjoyment in stretching his arms all the way around you, gluing himself on and vowing to never let go (he doesn't let you go anywhere without him touching you)

develops a mischievous nature in the sight of the fridge, or what sanji swore to protect from the "hungry beast", but then eventually ends up stealing food after what feels like countless tries

you, always being by his side on these days means sharing food. even if he seems like the person not to, you are a clear exception to him. Whether it be a bite, a chunk, he will give to his favorite person in the world; right after, he drowns you in infinite kisses with that signature grin of his

Roronoa Zoro

the swordsman is always tight-up, never letting his guard down, never letting anyone step all over him and his manly pride. However, that all disappears on a quiet afternoon when you pick up the sound of a certain green-haired man snoring incredibly loud

despite his restful sleep, it won't stop him from grabbing you and holding you tight as if it were a simple habit of his. He snakes his strong arms around you, not letting go until he opens his eyes cluelessly to you in his arms

in mention of that manly pride of his, he trusts you to watch in the distance as he lifts those large dumbbells of his; he finds his confidence raised to the roof when you're there

the poor man, dense as always. the crew always takes the time on moments like this to tease him about the lack of romance he brings to the table. Furious, he simply gives a large frown after protesting that he's a great lover

Vinsmoke Sanji

and if every single day doesn't stop him from spoiling you with his passionate love, these calms day only fuel him more. It's a skill the chef possesses, finding himself to be quite the "professional" in his vernacular

the times he's not in the kitchen, he spends it with you. Looking out into the vast, blue, and majestic sea, he dreams of seeing it all with you- tracing patterns on the back of your hand and a kiss on the forehead, as he rests his head on the crevice of your neck

his romantic tactics comes into the light as he simply asks you to help him in the kitchen. It was just the two of you, sharing a moment together. He, of course, cannot help but flirt with his beautiful lover- in which it then becomes an ever so lovely kitchen date that lasts for hours

sometimes, when the strawhats could still be fast asleep, the blonde-haired man takes the chance to spread a blanket on the grassy floors and have a picnic (along with an occasional addition of the little reindeer, Chopper) with you. With smooth words like silk, it is almost as if he serenades you. It doesn't take long for you to utter a word of love to him, and his face is a flustering red

Nami

• although the ship itself may be at peace, she still finds herself preferring an intimate, private spot to be with you. In the presence of just the two of you and her endless charts and maps, she'll pepper you with kisses and physical attention. She likes to bug you about her wardrobe, and sometimes, if you're lucky, the tangerine-colored hair woman rambles about all the things she'd like to wear, and their prices; you never see the end of it

• she could be busy logging away things, charting maps, and so on. But sometimes of the ship were too quiet, nami wishes for you to stay by her side silently so she feels more at ease. Don't mention it though, or else she'll kick you out

• with the help of sanji, she'll feed you and herself some of those precious tangerines and numerous drinks he sends down for the two of you to enjoy. Silently, she enjoys seeing the pleasant face you make when you take a bit of the tangerine or a sip of the drink, as she wraps you into a tender embrace that only happens once in a blue moon

• if the morning dawns or the sun falls, she'll gladly encourage you to do a skin routine with her, just so you two can talk endlessly about the infinite random topics that string to no where. As long as you're there, she always feels at home

Nico Robin

• before you know it, she'll have you swayed into the thin sheets of spread out blankets with a book open, the only thing lit in the room being a simple few candles, and maybe a few rose petals. Slowly, she grazes her one of two hands against your hair, the other holding you close to her as you may also have a book- or perhaps not

• she simply wishes to listen to you speak, her undivided attention on you and your kissable face. You may not know what she's thinking, but as the waves collapse onto the Sunny, and the sun shines on the two of you, it's not hard to know that she's ready to press her lips gently onto yours at anytime

• she'll do anything you wish, just as long as she's there to watch- her quiet nature didn't mean she hated it, but she just loved when you do it. Everything about you drove her in a unique way of crazy, and the long-haired woman never wished to let go of it

Usopp

• believe it or not, the sniper was more of an active man. He'll be constructing a new device of his, or playing card games- something to keep him busy. Yet while he's busy he rambles to you, word by word as he makes up all these stories. One of them, being about a certain person in his life that was like an angel sent to him from Skypiea

• he likes to show you, and his little crowd (consisting of luffy and chopper) obvious magic tricks easy enough to amuse the lot of you in an instant, a hearty laugh coming from the curly haired man. His unwavering pride only bigger with you there

• he can be a crazy amount of shy in ratio to his cockiness when it comes to showing you some physical love. But in purpose of showing his love to you, when the sun is low and just the two of you stand on the deck, he'll gladly wrap his arms around you, kissing you in this slightly clumsy, but affectionate way in that unique way of his

(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ

#one piece #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #luffy x reader #nami x reader #usopp x reader #one piece x reader #op #luffy x you #sanji x you #zoro x you #nico robin x you #nami x you #usopp x you

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 4 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ My Brother's Best Friend Is The Guy For Me

content: leo valdez x daughter of jupiter! grace! reader warning: language (you startin to see a pattern yet?), mentions of a bra, kissing ig, author's note: another day another fanfic idea that haunted me until I wrote it. I'm really just a victim of my own mind😣😣 Also, deepest apologies i could drop three fics rn but i don't wanna like flood the tags or other people's feeds. but, if you guys want me to, just say the word🫡🫡🫡 I'm a people pleaser to my bones. Oh, and this is very non-canon compliant, i know. I'm re-reading the percy jackson series first bc i like things to be in order, even tho my fav was the lost hero. my copy of the lost hero just sits on my bedside table, staring at me until i finish the other books. IM SORRY-

after arriving in new rome, piper and leo figured it would be best to drag jason around the city and see if they could jumpstart his memory with familiar sights. they got lost a few times and clearly news of jason being back had yet to spread, as every few feet there were shocked looks and questions thrown at the trio. jason answered them, always, but people were quick to move on. almost like he wasn’t even missed. piper and leo could both sense jason coming to this conclusion and were unsure how to rectify the issue. jason sighed as he desperately looked at some statue, hoping against hope that it would mean something to him and just allow him to remember. like percy had the second he’d seen annabeth. jason barely knew percy and he was already growing bitter towards the boy, seeing it unfair that he got all of his memories back while jason was still just working with just flashes of smudged faces and warm feelings.

“anything?” piper whispered and jason just shook his head. he sighed before nodding towards where the ship should still be.

“We should be getting back,” he murmured, already walking away from the pair. leo and piper shared a glance, frowns deep set on their faces.

then, the clatter of metal on brick was heard, causing all three of them to jolt their heads towards the source of the noise. there stood a girl, probably their age, swords and spears scattered around her feet as she just stared at them. her hair was the color of golden straw, maybe a shade or two darker than jason’s. leo could tell tears were pooling in her eyes, her…shockingly blue eyes. leo’s eyes widened as he connected the dots before glancing at jason, who stilled and his eyes glazed over like he was lost in thought. she was dressed in the typical roman demigod attire, a purple shirt just peeking out from under a toga of sorts. she, admittedly, looked a little worse for wear; her hair was tangled and desperately pulled back into a ponytail, her eyes had bags under them, and she had clearly spent many recent nights awake.

“jason?” she asked in a broken sob, her chest heaving and the tears beginning to leak out of her eyes. jason’s eyes stayed on her before he jolted forwards, like he’d been struck by lightning. something snapped inside him, sending the boy rushing towards the girl, years and years of memories flashing before his eyes as he pulled her into a strong and loving embrace. memories of growing up together, training together, laughing and crying together. memories of his twin sister; no, memories of his baby sister. yes, yes, he was older. he remembers now. he knew he was still missing large chunks of his life, but getting his sister back was the only thing that mattered in the moment.

“y/n,” he gasped out as the girl cried against his chest, her hands desperately grasping at his shoulders. jason cried too, curling around her like she was the only thing that mattered, that protective older brother feeling coming back and filling his chest once more, slowly chipping away at the hole that juno left there.

“i- i looked for you. i didn’t give up, even after reyna put me on camp arrest. i knew you wouldn’t just leave, i knew it. they gave up too quickly, they just gave up,” the girl cried against his chest, pulling back to look at her brother, who had been gone for far too long. jason nodded at her, giving her shoulders a squeeze and offering her a comforting smile.

“it’s okay, y/n, i’m here now. and i remember you, which is more than enough for me,” he told her and her matching smile slowly slipped off her face.

“…you forgot me?” she whispered out, new tears brimming in her eyes. jason opened his mouth to reply but only sounds came out, his panic to comfort his little sister becoming overwhelming.

“it’s a long story. i’m piper and you must be jason’s sister?” piper cut in, saving the poor roman boy as she stepped forwards, her hand held out. some of her hair was standing up on its own, the moment the siblings collided sending a minor shockwave through the area causing both leo and piper’s hair to fly upwards from the static. y/n pulled her eyes from her brother, turning to the beautiful girl before her, bashfully acknowledging the flyaway hair. she let go of jason, promptly straightening her back out and shaking piper’s hand with both of hers.

“yes, yes. sorry, where are my manners?! i’m y/n grace, jason’s twin sister. lovely to meet you, piper,” she stated, a composed and diplomatic look taking over her face, which still had tear-stains but it didn’t make her appear any less regal.

piper smiled sweetly at the girl, the roman-ness of her basically radiating off like static electricity. though…she had a feeling the girl before her had a rebellious streak, based on the nike blazers on her feet instead of the standard sandals. y/n then turned her attention to leo, who quickly pulled himself out of his daydreams and took her hand into his, promptly flipping it over and pressing his lips to the back of her hand with a dazzling smile. the girl flared with a blush, looking away and slowly pulling her hand back, resting it flat against her stomach.

“leo valdez, at your service, princesa,” he mused as jason shot a glare at leo, who just smiled cheekily and pretended not to see it. he couldn’t help himself; it really wasn’t in his nature to ignore pretty girls, even if they were his best friend’s sister.

“come on, y/n, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” stated jason, nodding his head towards the streets of new rome. y/n’s eyes seemed to brighten at the prospects of getting updates on her brother and she quickly scooped up the swords and spears, leaning them against a bench before scampering off after her brother.

“i’ll meet you two at the boat later,” jason called, smiling widely at the pair, who waved him off. they shared a look, their smiles matching jason’s in size. they were just happy he was happy, assumably finally gaining back some memories.

piper shoved leo before turning around and heading in the opposite direction of the grace siblings and towards the argo ii. leo followed for a moment before looking over his shoulder, being met by the sight of the youngest grace doing the same. their eyes locked for a moment, the girl offering him the softest and sweetest smile he’d ever seen. leo beamed back at her, hoping she couldn’t see the steam rolling off him from so far away. they held each other's gaze for as long as they could before the daughter of jupiter disappeared behind the block. leo stopped, feeling the pounding of his chest and hearing the roar of his heartbeat in his ears before piper tugged him down the block with a glare.

“you cannot,” she hissed at him and leo gave her an innocent look as they started to walk towards the boat.

“i don’t know what you're talking about,” he lied, easily, averting his eyes from hers and pretending to take in the views new rome had to offer.

“i know when you lie, repair boy. you can’t date jason’s sister that he just got his memories back of. that’s, like, totally against bro code,” she huffed at him and leo rolled his eyes.

“you don’t even know bro code.” “i know enough. she’s off limits, valdez.”

and leo just smirked, wanting her more now that she was forbidden fruit. and based on how she looked at him, he had a feeling this thing wasn’t one sided.

over the next few days, while they were conversing over what to do and how to proceed as a group, leo went out of his way to immerse himself in the grace family. originally, he will admit, leo simply got close with y/n because he thought she was super hot, apparently forbidden, and totally out of his league. but, as he grew closer with the daughter of jupiter, he grew more attached. instead of focusing on her shiny hair, he found himself looking forward to her dumb jokes and they way she threw her head back when she laughed, desperately trying to cover her mouth with her hands. he quickly forgot - not entirely, of course, with a girl that attractive it’s kinda hard to miss - her dazzling figure, instead finding comfort in the soft looks she gave him when they spent too long planning the quest and boredom was starting to set in. his yearning for her was rapidly turning into something more solid, something more love-adjacent. he was certain that the princess of the gods was going to be the death of him…that being that jason didn’t get to him first.

it was one late evening when it happened, the breaking point between the two. most everyone had turned in for the night after a long day of arguing and training, the teens just wanted to sleep. save for y/n, who was sitting on the railing of the ship, her legs dangling over the edge and swinging through the sky. her eyes were trained on the setting sun, vibrant oranges and yellows shooting out from behind some mountain, turning to deep blues and lavenders as time continued to pass. jason told the girl good night, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before walking away. her eyes followed him for a moment before turning back to the sunset.

“careful, wouldn’t want you to fall,” leo joked as he walked up, resting his forearms against the railing next to her and keeping his eyes on the sun too. y/n laughed lightly, glancing at the curly-haired boy next to her.

“yes, you're soooo right, i'd have no way to save myself at all,” the girl mused, swishing her hand purposefully and causing a breeze to rush through leo’s hair, just teasing the beginning of her powers. he laughed lightly, looking over at her. she held his eyes for a moment before flirting them back to the sun.

“it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she questioned. “yeah. gorgeous,” leo murmured back but his eyes weren’t on the sun at all but rather locked on her, enjoying the way she looked drenched in golden light.

y/n turned at his distracted tone and caught that his eyes were locked on her. she blushed and had the urge to look away but refused to do so, even pulling the courage from somewhere to move closer to the boy. leo shifted slightly, pushing himself closer and higher up so she wouldn’t have to bend so much to meet his gaze. his eyes flirted down to her lips before returning to her eyes, tilting his head the slightest bit in question at her. y/n swallowed nervously but she still reached her hand out, allowing her fingers to dance along the junction between his shoulder and neck.

“i wasn’t talking about the sunset,” admitted leo, his eyes staying trained on her as she leaned closer, mere centimeters between their lips. “i know,” she whispered and he felt the puffs of breath against his lips.

they weren’t sure who jolted forwards first, all they knew was that their lips were finally meeting. leo’s hand slid up her legs to her waist, his fingers desperate to feel her, to hold her close. her hand moved from his neck to his cheek, pulling his lips impossibly closer. leo was sure he felt sparks, but he just wasn’t sure how much of them were imagination or the daughter of lightning. leo pulled back first but her lips chased after his without much control. he chuckled at her, causing the girl to flush once again. she was easily embarrassed, leo found out. he also discovered that he loved the red hue on her face more than most things.

“jason’s gonna kill me,” she gulped, her brows furrowing and a panic flashing across her eyes as she looked at leo. leo reached up, cupping her face in his hands and he watched the fear slowly melt off her features.

“oh, to hades with jason. i like you…like, really like you. he can just get over it…saying that you like me, too,” replied leo, glancing down as he finished his sentence.

“hey, it’s not every boy that’s got me sparking, you know,” cut in y/n, causing leo to notice the sparks that flew off from her hands and hair every now and then, “i like you, too, leo. i thought that was obvious.”

“just checking,” leo stated with a dopey smile, which y/n managed to match with her own.

“no, but really, we’ve got to talk to jason,” she told leo firmly, who went to shrug her off again.

“talk to jason about what?” the man of the hour questioned as he walked back out onto the deck. y/n instantly paled, sputtering out vowels and constants but unable to form any words. leo subtly moved away from y/n, trying to remember what distance is acceptable for friends that totally didn’t just kiss and confess that they might love each other.

“What- what are you doing out here, jase?? i thought- you said you were going to bed,” the girl managed to spit out, finally. jason glanced between the two before reaching forwards and grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair, presenting it to the pair.

“piper accidentally left this up here…what’s going on? What did you have to tell me?” jason pushed, crossing his arms and glaring at the both of them. y/n shared a glance with leo, who’s eyes told her not to say anything before she turned back to her brother.

“jason, i- i really like leo. and i know you’ve got this whole protective streak thing but he-” “it’s cool,” jason cut in, shrugging his shoulders. y/n halted to a stop, frowning before cutting her eyes back up to her brother. leo nearly fell on his face with how quickly he turned to look at the son of jupiter.

“What?” they questioned in sync. “like, we’re good. leo, you’re my best friend. honestly, you’re probably the best guy to date my sister. though, if you even so much as think about hurting her, i'll deep fry you, got it?” jason added, turning and giving leo a cutting glare. leo’s back straightened out and he faked a salute at his friend.

“i have no plans of doing that, sir,” leo joked, using a largely fake sargent-like voice. y/n cracked a smile, hiding it behind her hand with a shake of her head. she then turned her attention to jason, who glanced between the two with a warm look.

“great! i’m actually off to bed now. sleep well, the both of you,” stated jason, waving a hand over his shoulder as he walked away. y/n turned back to leo, waiting a few seconds before promptly shooting forwards and pressing her lips against his. leo smiled into the kiss, knowing jason had nothing to worry about; he didn’t have plans on letting her go any time soon. as they pulled apart, y/n’s eyes trailed upwards and they widened near the top of his head.

“um, leo?” “yeah?” he questioned in a nearly dreamy voice. “your hair is on fire.” “oh, gods, not again,” he groaned, reaching and rapidly patting at the tiny flames with a roll of his eyes. y/n chuckled into her hand once more, watching all this with an amusing glint in her eyes.

“oh, yeah? you find this funny, princesa?” he bit out, jokingly glaring at her. she rolled her eyes at him as he leaned forwards and pressed his lips to hers.

then he did something unexpected, allowing his fingers to toy with the hem of her shirt. there was a moment of pause, just enough for her to push him away. When nothing happened, he slid his hand under, allowing his fingers to dance over her skin, slowly but surely climbing upwards and upwards the tip of his middle finger just barely brushing the bottom of her lace bra-

“that’s it! both of you, separate! i was cool and now i'm very much not cool,” jason shouted, causing the two to jump apart as jason stormed up to them, grabbing a hold of y/n and steering her towards the stairs to go below deck. he spun around, pointing at leo as they went.

“and keep your nasty paws off my sister!” “jason!” y/n cut in with an exasperated groan.

“don’t talk to your brother-in-law that way!” leo called back with a smirk before a gust of wind knocked him on his ass. he shouted greek and spanish curses at jason, who couldn’t understand them but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was saying. With a final battle of middle fingers, jason once more began to pull y/n below deck.

leo stood back up, rolling his eyes at the older twins' antics as y/n shot a look over her shoulder, just like the first day they met. her eyes glimmered at leo and she smiled a megavolt smile that only she could master, causing leo to return with a smile of his own. and as he watched her disappear from view, he couldn’t help but smirk, knowing that he’d do anything in his power to keep the daughter of jupiter by his side. he’d do anything for that smile, for that laugh, for that girl. even kissing ass to her brother for a few weeks.

author's note cont. : i feel like this was such a cute concept but my sleep depraved brain could not produce at the level i wanted smh 😭😭😭 but i also needed it to be done. but, c'est la vie! i think it's cute and sweet, but also rushed and held together with blood sweat and tears. anyways, good vibes and juju to everyone all over the world. kisses from covey😘😘😘

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackson #pjo #jason grace #pjo fandom #leo valdez #heroes of olympus

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sunkendreams · 6 months

Note

Ok hear me out bc this has been in my mind for a minute. Lester secretly toying and touching reader in the truck while someone is standing outside the truck, be it Bo, some potential victim I just feel like he is the type

heatstroke.

( lester sinclair x fem!reader. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lester sinclair x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.3K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), public sex, risky location, vaginal fingering, fingering (f!feceiving), fingerfucking, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, very mild coercion, lester is a bit of a pervert, bo sinclair cameo, obsessive/slightly creepy behavior from lester

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: listen ,,, you were onto something incredible when you requested this, this was so hot to write you don’t understand !!! lester is criminally underrated aaaaand this was so much hornier than I thought it’d be !! hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

TAGLIST: @freyjasfenrir ; @darklylucid ; @chaotichellscape ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth ; @nastymensimp

Summertime in Louisiana was akin to setting fire in a desert — humidity on top of an acrid, stifling heat. You didn’t have a clue as to why your friends dragged you all the way out here under the false pretense of a camping trip. In all actuality, they wanted to visit this town that wasn’t listed on any map — Ambrose.

The journey itself was treacherous, going through thick, endless woodlands, marshlands, and bogs before coming towards the town. It was just around the bend, a large chunk of the road missing, now consumed by swampwater, jagged rocks, and erosion. Your friend was confident that he could maneuver his truck through it — boy, was he wrong.

“It won’t make it,” Josie chimed, standing beside you as the both of you watched a pair of young men attempt to push the truck through the wash. The truck unceremoniously came to a grinding, screeching halt, tires partially buried within the mud. “Idiots.”

You kept quiet, idly smoothing your palms across the little, floral sundress you wore. You certainly weren’t dressed for camping — you had no interest. Going to Ambrose was supposed to be a ‘day out on the town’, with your desire being to look at small shops and simply enjoy the atmosphere.

“Maybe we should call somebody,” You piped up, nervously wringing your hands together. “There has to be a tow truck around, you think?” Anxiousness blossomed within the pit of your stomach, giving you a feeling of uncertainty. You wished that they would’ve just listened and tried to drive around it.

“Cut the shit, we don’t need a tow truck.” Josie’s boyfriend, Tate, growled in protest. Admittedly, you had no idea why you were out here in the staggering heat with these three. Tate and Josie had been your friends since high school, but Cody, the third boy, was simply here out of devotion to Josie. You were confident that there was something else going on.

Josie shot you an apologetic glance, but you had enough of watching them push at a truck that wasn’t moving anywhere whatsoever. With a begrudging sigh, you started down the dirt path in the direction of Ambrose, carefully stepping across rocks to avoid caking your boots in a layer of viscous mud.

“Where are you going?” Josie called out, and you simply waved your hand at her, dismissive of her concerns. You were sick and tired of being around the trio, anyway. A walk and a bit of fresh air would do you a world of good.

“Going to town to find somebody.” You replied, and continued walking, crossbody purse slung over your frame as you made the short trek into town. It seemed exceptionally lively — plenty of stores, the chattering ambiance of a quaint neighborhood, and vintage, neon signs that pointed you toward your destination.

You were delighted to discover the gas station and mechanic shop, which already seemed to be inhabited by someone. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat by the gas pumps, back of the bed shoddily cleaned-out, save for a few remnants of roadkill and animal bones. There was an ‘L. S.’ carved into the worn metal above the back wheel, which you curiously traced your fingers over.

The hot sun blistered down upon you, making it stifling due to the now-faded asphalt you stood upon. You quickly ducked underneath the shaded cover of the gas station, almost colliding into someone when you rounded the front of the truck.

“Oh!” You gasped, chest tight with a momentary lapse of fear. “I’m so sorry!” The energy you carried was akin to that of a nervous nelly, clearly unnerved by her surroundings. You felt horrible for running into some innocent bystander — the owner of the truck, you figured.

You were met with the skeptical, hazel-eyed gaze of a man who reminded you of a possum. Rugged, scraggly, and clearly meant for the woodlands. He straightened his hat out, head cocking to one side when he peered down at you — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sugar! Guess I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’, neither.”

His voice bore that native Southern dialect, but he didn’t sound hostile whatsoever. When you finally got a good look at him, he seemed scrappy — maybe he lived in Ambrose. A large buck knife was holstered to his hip, neck adorned in a series of chokers and necklaces, decorated in some sort of animal bone.

“Say, what’cha doin’ ‘round here, anyway?” He inquired, leaning against the door of his truck. “Y’look a little lost.” His tone remained friendly, high-spirited, even. He was somewhat grimy, covered in a layer of dewy perspiration, wiping his hands off on a damp cloth.

“My friends and I were coming up here to visit the town, but our truck got stuck in that patch of marsh just around the bend,” You sighed, somewhat agitated with the whole scenario. If they would’ve listened to you, the truck would be just fine and not tire-deep in the mud. “I was just looking for some help.”

There was a sparkling in his eyes, a peculiar glittering that intrigued you to no end. A chuckle escaped him, finding humor in the situation. “They should’a jus’ drove ‘round.” He mused, and you had to laugh, even if it was a bitter sound. You kept your hands tucked together, idly fiddling with the strap of your purse.

Your expression was somewhat amused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. “That’s what I said,” You sighed, happy to be away from the oppressive glare of the midday sun. “Either way, we’re stuck. Do you know if there’s a tow truck around here, or someone who could help?” You asked.

He grinned — a toothy, wolfish grin. Lester wasn’t blessed with Bo’s natural handsomeness, but he certainly had the personality to offset it all. He liked that you smiled and laughed along with him, didn’t treat him like backwoods trash, either. “M’brother’s got a tow truck! Bet he’d help ya out! Why don’t I give ‘im a call?”

Finally — your savior.

Relief rippled through you as you nodded several times over, rifling through your purse to unveil a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” You insisted. “For the call and for your help. I can’t thank you enough.” You nodded, but the man simply pushed your hand away.

Being around you was a reward in itself — and once his brothers took care of your friends, you would be his prize in all of this. He couldn’t have been any happier with how all of this was progressing. Lester opened up the driver’s side door, grabbing a rather shoddy-looking flip-phone. He was still trying to figure these things out.

One call to Bo later, and his older brother was coming out with the tow-truck and all of that oozing charm, like a shepherd leading the flock to the slaughter. Lester insisted that he keep you out of it — you were sweet, he could tell.

He liked that.

“He’s on his way,” Lester chimed, swiveling around to face you again. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “M’Lester, by th’way! It’s real nice to meet you, sugar. Say, if you’re bakin’ in the sun, could sit in m’truck with me while the rest do the heavy liftin’.” The offer was absolutely tempting to you.

You reached out, introducing yourself with a charming grin and another burst of bubbly laughter. “It’s nice to meet you, Lester. Thank you so much for all of your help, again. You’re an angel.” He was very kind and upbeat — Jesus, you even found him to be cute. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

Lester grinned again, completely and utterly enamored with you as he waved a hand towards the truck. “I’m real sure, promise! Don’t want that pretty little face of yours t’melt right off. You can sit with me while Bo works his magic.” He insisted, opening up the door as a sign of invitation.

A pleasant wave of heat flooded throughout your body — and while you thought it was from the weather, it was from Lester’s subtle flirtation. You couldn’t help but giggle, nose wrinkling in amusement as you climbed up into his truck. Lester stood behind you, shamelessly admiring the way your dress fit you, from lovely curves to the faintest glimpse of your thighs.

As you crawled into the cabin, you noticed the morbid array of bone and rope dangling from the top mirror. The inside smelled of stale blood, damp dirt, and the faint scent of cigarettes. You folded one leg over the other, swiping away a thin layer of sweat that built up along the back of your neck.

A tow truck came soaring down the road, rickety and beat-up. The driver wore a mechanic’s uniform and a ball cap — you assumed it was Bo, the man Lester was referring to. “M’gonna drive us back down to the bend. No reason for you t’walk.” He mused, hopping in beside you as he started the engine.

The truck roared to life, and Lester maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station, whipping it back around to approach the swampy wash where your caravan had gotten stuck at.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” You asked, head canting to one side. You leaned up against the door, palm tucked underneath your chin. Whenever you weren’t looking, you were completely oblivious to Lester’s constant ogling of your body.

He kept one hand perched atop the patchwork, leather-covered steering wheel, the other resting along the edge of the window. “Mostly,” Lester piped up, letting out a low whistle. “Ambrose ain’t on the map. Hard for anybody to come out this way without lookin’ real close.” He replied, truck slugging along at a crawl.

“It’s pretty out here,” You hummed, tracing a finger along the dashboard, collecting a layer of dust in the process. “I wouldn’t want to leave. You’ve got everything you need here in town. It’s peaceful.” When you adjusted your position, your dress hitched just a little higher.

“Yer welcome t’stay, if y’like it so much.” Lester mused, which got you to laugh. As tempting as it sounded, nestled away within the Louisiana wilderness, you knew that your friends would go against it. “They even got a beauty pageant, Miss Ambrose.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head to one side, letting out another giggle as you peered outside towards the forests. “A beauty pageant? I’ve never done one of those before. I’m sure I’d have plenty of competition.” You sighed, idly fiddling with the hem of your sundress. The jean jacket you were wearing over it only made you nearly collapse from heatstroke.

Lester grinned, a playful chuckle escaping him. “Naw, I think you’d win th’whole thing.” He was really laying on the compliments and old-fashioned charm, driving the truck down the path and around the bend. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen ‘round here!” Singing your praises was one way to get you flustered.

This was the last thing you ever expected, being hit on by a rugged stranger you’d just met. Nevertheless, the attention you were receiving was amazing, something you weren’t used to. “You’re really sweet.” You accepted the compliment without retort, idly preening your fingers over the top of your head.

By the time you’d gotten back to the wash, Lester’s brother was sitting in the cab of the tow-truck, attempting to haul the other vehicle out of the mud. You waved at your friend from the window as he put it into park, letting it idle. Josie and Tate happened to use it as something to lean on, but Lester didn’t say anything to protest.

“Ain’t you jus’ gorgeous?” Lester crooned, pinching the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. Your skin felt abnormally hot, like a fever as you shifted in your seat, visibly sheepish to the man’s seemingly harmless flirting. “Real nice dress, too.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, ducking your head as his knuckles innocently brushed over the top of your thigh. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, causing you to shiver as you averted your gaze. “Maybe I should get out and see if everything’s okay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Lester cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering with something indiscernible. The rough, calloused pads of his fingertips traced over your thigh. “Y’sure, sugar? I was thinkin’ you could stay here with me,” He mused, lips spitting into a toothy smirk. “Could make it worth yer while.” His voice was sickly-sweet, like honey.

Something hung heavy in the air — suffocating heat coupled with the flurry of tension crackling within the cab of Lester’s truck. Admittedly, you were more aroused than you should’ve been, given how forward and crass this was, but there was certainly a thrill in it.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stealing another glance outside the window. Your friends were just outside of the truck — if you made too much noise or squirmed, they would notice. “What if somebody sees?” You whimpered, feeling a rush of oozing warmth coalesce between your thighs.

“Looks you’ll have t’be real quiet,” Lester hummed, hand prodding at your dress again. “Why don’t you go on an’ lift that up for me, gorgeous?” You shouldn’t have been this riled up and turned on for a complete stranger, but he was tempting — maybe it was his kind demeanor coupled with lust. You weren’t sure.

A fluttering sensation erupted throughout the pit of your stomach, prompting you to shift your thighs together as you began to shyly tug your dress up. Lester had subtly shifted closer, shorter than an arm’s length distance as you let some of the fabric pool around your hips.

There was some sick thrill you got with this, buried deep down — in hindsight, you shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but Lester seemed more than willing. You glanced toward the window, breath hitching when Josie glanced back at you with a puzzled expression.

To quell her concern, you swiftly gave her a thumbs-up, perspiration creeping along your spine as you subtly shifted a little closer to your new friend. His soft snickering filled the cab, calloused palm gingerly kneading into your thigh.

“Nice n’soft,” Lester mumbled, Southern drawl dropping to a hushed octave. “Y’feel like velvet.” His compliment made you shiver with anticipation, legs parting as you shyly began to ruck the skirt of your dress up. He leaned in, giving your hair a sniff — you smelled sweet, like a fresh bouquet of honeyed flowers.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, angling yourself a little more in his direction, enough to remain inconspicuous. Lester traced his hand along your thigh, drinking in the feeling of your velveteen complexion underneath his fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you sluggishly placed your hand atop his, guiding it toward the heat coalescing between your legs. Lester appeared surprised, cracking another bemused grin as you let his fingers settle along the waistband of your panties. You were desperate, wriggling atop the sticky leather beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the seat, chest tight with a familiar fluttering once his fingers finally crossed the threshold, slipping beneath the thin, cotton material. He nudged your legs further apart, deliberately stroking at your cunt, toying with you just a little bit. “D’aw,” He crooned. “That all fer me?”

Part of you wanted to simply melt into a pile of nothingness, lips parted as a sweet moan escaped you. His touches were tantalizing, feather-light and leaving you aching for more. “Y—Yeah,” You sighed, keeping your voice low as Lester pushed past your folds, two digits beginning to glide against your cunt. “Keep going.” You mewled.

Lester rarely, if ever, did anything like this.

Admittedly, once he saw you, that beautiful beam of sunshine, he had to have you — he wanted to keep you for himself, too. Your willingness to let him touch you made you all the more tempting, something to be coveted, worshiped. Lester would do it all for you if you’d let him.

Quietly, he obeyed your breathy command, ministrations becoming more vigorous. His fingers were erratic and choppy, sloppily sliding across your cunt with a fervor. You didn’t care, lulled into submission by the myriad of sensations, pleasure rippling throughout your stomach.

Your gaze occasionally flickered toward the outside of the truck, but your worry of getting caught was steadily subsiding. Lester’s calloused digits glided along your slit, moving up until they found that clutch of sensitive nerves buried between your thighs. His thumb sluggishly circled your clit, causing your hips to jolt forward.

“S’at feel nice?” His drawl had dropped into a husked purr, voice wrought with desperation. Lester liked having this level of control over you, but he enjoyed seeing your reactions even more. Embarrassment washed through you, knowing how insane this scenario seemed.

A sweet whimper tore past your lips, and you nodded your head, attempting to keep the gesture subtle. You wanted more, shifting your thighs together to relieve some tension until Lester prodded you with his knee. He began to rub at your clit, prompting you to press the back of your hand over your mouth.

Lester snickered, swatting your hand away. “Don’t keep those sounds from me, sugar. You’re jus’ so pretty like this.” He murmured, causing you to bite at your lower lip. Your thighs shook, cunt throbbing and oozing with liquid heat as he continued to touch you.

There was a thump against the front of the truck, nearly making you leap out of your own flesh, hastily covering your lap with your jean jacket. It was just Cody, huffing and puffing as Lester’s brother continued to try and pull the truck out of the mud.

“W—We should probably stop,” You whimpered, voice low and hushed, attempting to grab at his wrist, but Lester stopped you. “Lester, please.” The terror of being caught outweighed pleasure, but he shushed you, tugging you just a little closer, until you were nearly leg-to-leg in the cab.

“Jus’ keep quiet, sweetheart. They ain’t gonna catch us, swear.” He reassured you, coercing you into a more docile state — admittedly, he really wanted to make you cum on his fingers. Lester was hellbent to receive that from you, whether you protested or not.

As much as your mind screamed at you to stop, you wanted to keep going. You nodded, still keeping the jacket tucked within your lap, but Lester nudged it aside, wanting to watch everything. Your dress was all disheveled and ruffled around your hips, panties halfway down your thighs.

You began to squirm, hips jolting and spasming into the sensation of his hand, nails digging into the old, cracked leather of the truck’s frayed cushions. Your mind stopped worrying so much, submitting to basic desire and instinct, letting pleasure hold the reins as he flicked his thumb around your clit.

Honey-sweet arousal pooled between your legs, coating Lester’s digits in a fine sheen. You almost pleaded for him to come back when he withdrew his hand, watching with complete and utter shock as he licked his fingers, saturated in saliva. The noises he made were crass and somewhat lewd. “Taste jus’as good as y’look.” He murmured.

A molten wave of heat dropped right into the pit of your stomach, prompting you to whimper as his fingers hotly returned to your core. He was vigorous this time, using those spittle-slathered digits to invade your cunt, pushing two fingers inside of you as he began to piston them in and out. His rhythm was intense, and you nearly clamped your thighs together.

Your limbs felt heavy, weighed-down by the waves of ecstasy that consume you, as if dragging you down to the bottom of an ocean. You can barely distinguish what’s happening outside of the truck — you don’t care anymore, either.

This stranger fingerfucking you in his cab is all you can concentrate on.

Another soft, throaty moan escaped you, tearing past your parted lips as you rolled your hips sporadically, in-tandem with the motion of his fingers. They pushed inward, nearly knuckle-deep inside of your cunt before dragging out halfway, only to ram right back in. You sighed, pleasure scrawled all over your face.

Lester kept a watchful eye out, knowing that Bo would take his sweet time, damage your friend’s truck in the process. He was happy to have snatched you up when he did, gaze flickering toward you. Your body was contorted with delight, a glistening sheen of perspiration shimmering along your collarbone.

Tension crackled through the air, and you were none the wiser to Lester’s little plot to keep you. His thumb toyed and circled your clit, pouring fuel on the fire as your hips bucked forward again. “M’close,” You whimpered through the dizzying carnality, knuckles tense and tight as you clawed at the seat. “Oh, Lester! S—Shit, please don’t stop!” You squeaked.

He was enthralled, as if trained to obey your every wish. He didn’t slow down, keeping the same pace, fingers scissoring in and out of your weeping cunt. The thick scent of arousal hung heavy in the cab, intermingled with that of fresh earth and a coppery twang from the blood of roadkill, baking away in the back of the truck.

The thin straps of your pretty dress began to sag upon your shoulders, giving way to the faintest glimpse of your breast. If it weren’t for the oblivious audience outside of the truck, Lester would’ve been sucking on your chest. Instead, he settled for a brief peek of your heaving tits, and nothing more.

When the truck rattled, you barely paid it any mind — just your friends sagging against it. Lester snickered, opting to add a third finger, if it were a possibility. “Can y’handle another, sugar? Yer almost there.” He whispered, and when your friend began to step back towards the passenger door for shade, your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Again, Lester silenced your worry with the softest coos and gentle shushes, thumb working away at your clit as he attempted to wriggle a third digit inside of you. You were all wound up, chasing after your orgasm as you turned your face away, skin feverishly hot, as if you’d been scorched by the Louisiana sunshine.

As soon as Lester’s fingers rocked into your cunt for the umpteenth time, curling just slightly, you were gone — wasting away in a white-hot explosion. The tension within your stomach unfurled as you coated his digits in your slick nectar, huffing and puffing as you attempted to compose yourself.

“Lester, Lester,” The breathy, hushed way in which you whimpered his name made him want to devour you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his fingers as he withdrew them, watching the tension unfurl from your body. You looked embarrassed and downright flustered, having made a mess of his seat. “M’sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lester cajoled, grinning a toothy, bemused smile as he began to lick his fingers clean. “Don’t gotta apologize none for that. Jus’ do it again sometime.” He teased, watching as you hastily covered your lap with your jean jacket when your friend thumped a hand against the window.

“Hey, we’re going up to this guy’s house. He said he has a tire that we can borrow, one on the truck is flat. Are you coming?” Josie asked, ogling Lester with skepticism and a high degree of disgust, too.

You gasped, heart pounding erratically in your chest. As you opened your mouth to answer, Lester interjected on your behalf.

“Yer friend here is goin’ through a bad wave of heatstroke. I’m gonna drive ‘er back t’my place an’ get her some water. It’s a cabin ‘long the path, you can’t miss it.” Lester confirmed, but Josie looked at you for an answer instead.

You nodded several times over, mustering up a smile after having experienced one of the best highs of your life. Pretending that you hadn’t let him touch you just moments ago made you feel strange. “I’ll be alright, Josie. You guys can meet me at his place once the truck is all fixed up.”

Josie nodded and reluctantly moved away from the window, joining Tate and Cody as the three of them followed Bo towards the tow truck. You were impervious and oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time you would ever see your friends alive.

Fortunately for Lester, he had other intentions.

He started the truck again, peering toward you with a twinkle in his eye — it wasn’t the same high-spirited, innocuous man you’d encountered at the gas station. This gleam was different — obsessive, possessive, and absolutely enamored with you.

“Why don’t we see what we can do about this heatstroke of yours, sugar?”

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