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murdrdocs · 6 months

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venus fly

description. the pollen that sprayed in LUKE CASTELLAN's face earlier this morning has some really weird effects. not that he's complaining.

a continuation of this drabble

includes. sex pollen SUGGESTIVE CONTENT 18+, accidental drugging, loser!luke, best friend!reader, demeter!reader, implied oral (f and m receiving), slightly perv!luke, aftercare almost nonexistent

wc: 4.5k+

a/n: the long awaited sex pollen fic. title from venus fly by grimes. no explicit smut ahead. artwork credit unknown.

Your shirt is fitting you really well.

Your lips are moving, you’re saying something to Luke, he assumes it’s likely at least a little bit important, but he can only focus on how well your shirt is fitting.

Tight enough over your bust—Luke figures you’re wearing a sports bra for capture the flag today since he sees no bra lines, but the bra creates a nice shape for your tits, so he doesn’t need the lines to entertain him.

“Did you get a new shirt?”

You stop whatever you were saying to look down at your chest. You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fix Luke with a look of disappointment.

“Wha–? It’s an older one. All of my others were dirty.” Your bosom is covered, but Luke is still staring. It’s like he cannot peel his eyes away. Though, he hasn’t tried. At least, not until you scold him.

“Will you stop ogling me while I’m trying to talk to you?”

His reply is earnest. “Wait, shit, yeah. ‘m sorry I don't know what's going on…”

You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted. Luke can’t help but fix his eyes there next. You’re wearing chapstick, or maybe lip gloss. Something spread over your lips that creates a nice sheen that makes him want to lick it off like icing on a treat.

“It’s okay …” Your words aren’t that convincing but you drop your arms and start speaking again. This time, Luke takes in at least a dozen words.

Really, he should have known what was wrong with him. The same way he should have known that eventually, his insistent nosiness would come back to bite him in the rear.

You’d always warned him of such, telling him that “it’s charming until it’s not”, when you would boot him out of the greenhouse. (Truthfully, Luke had codependency issues but if he never really admitted it to himself, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to you, either.)

You were spending more time in the greenhouse lately. Which has never been a problem for Luke. But your newest project, something completely unknown to Luke as it was apparently a Demeter kid only project, was taking away his time with you. You could barely spare a half hour to go by the lake. You traded chores with one of your siblings for more time in the greenhouse, leaving Luke to work with someone not nearly as entertaining as you.

The only time he got to really see you was early in the morning and late at night. And if he was losing his time to something else—or, gods forbid, someone else—he wanted to know what it was.

So right when you were leaving the greenhouse early that morning, Luke snuck in after you. He searched around, trying to find evidence of you anywhere, and when he did find it, he found his demise there, too.

Sitting next to your favorite pen was a potted plant. It resembled a venus fly trap, but immensely bigger. There were a cluster of them, some with large flowers growing out of the opened mouths. Luke stupidly had the urge to provoke the plant, driven by the desire to see them in action.

He took your favorite pen, and gently stuck it inside of the mouth.

When a puff of yellow smoke hit him square in the face, he hadn’t thought much of it.

When he stumbled out of the greenhouse with a fog in his head and dizziness, he thought it to be a single side effect.

When he started to feel warmer than usual, he thought it to be an effect of the insistent summer heat.

It’s not until he’s waking up on the ground that he really begins to worry.

His eyes open and he is immediately greeted with the sun attempting to blind him. He squints and raises a hand over his face, shielding both the sun and whoever stands over him.

When they speak, he doesn’t need his eyes to tell who he is joined by.

“Jesus, Castellan, if you didn’t scare the shit outta me just now I would be bragging about beating you.”

Luke groans and rolls onto his side. He’s still wearing his battle armor over his clothes and he suddenly feels uncomfortable, like everything has been made wrong or maybe like he has outgrown them. His camp shirt is too tight against his body, pressing the sweat back into his skin and not allowing for any breathing room. His shorts feel awkward in the crotch, as do his briefs. And his shoes are suffocating his feet.

There is nothing he wants more in this moment than to peel the armor and clothes off of his body and run down to the water. But he doesn’t know if the game has ended yet, nor does he know how long he has been out.

There are many unanswered questions he has, but the first one he starts with is, “Why are you here?”

He hears you scoff and knows you have rolled your eyes.

“We were sparring and you just passed out. I wasn’t just going to leave you here.”

He finally looks at you. His eyesight has readjusted to the light from the star above, so it stings just a bit less when he peers one eye open.

You add on, “I didn’t know if you had spontaneously died or something! And now that I know you’re fine…” You bend down and grab your helmet, situating it back on your head and standing at attention over Luke.

He needs to stand. The last thing he remembers is fighting you and he's never lost a fight to you. In his mind, he hasn’t surrendered, and you haven’t defeated him, so he needs to stand.

He tries to, he really does, but his knees get weak and as soon as he’s up, his head spins and he’s right back down.

You swear just before your knees are hitting the earth and you’re kneeling beside him.

Luke can feel you pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, he can hear you asking him a few questions, he can see your wide eyes staring into his heavy ones, but he can’t respond. He can’t do anything but worry about the bile rising in his throat, or focus on the shining water just behind you.

He doesn’t realize that he has begun moving until the bottom of his pants feel heavy with the weight of water.

When he’s in to his thighs, he collapses and lets the ripples wash over his body.

You don’t follow him until after him for a few moments, and when you do, you stand still at the shoreline. You let Luke soak the heat and sweat off of his skin as best as the circumstances allow, and you only speak to him once he’s standing right in front of you in soaked clothes and wet armor.

“What’d you take?”

At first, he’s not playing dumb. It just takes a moment for your words to plant in his mind. Then he plays dumb.

“Take? I don’t know what you mean.”

You don’t entertain his ditziness and instead begin making your case.

“You’re clearly on something, Luke. You’re sweating even though it’s as cool as it usually is. Your pupils are wide and your eyes go from restless to barely open. You keep fidgeting and every few minutes you twitch. And you’re standing here, talking to me, instead of helping the red team secure another win.”

Luke hadn’t noticed most of his symptoms. It’s not like he can notice anything other than the thoughts in his mind, especially when they give him images of your tits bouncing in his face and audible hallucinations of what you would sound like moaning his name.

He decides then and there that capture the flag doesn’t matter. Not when he has what he wants, the true glory, right in front of him.

He heard you, he processed your words, but the sight of your lips distracts him once more and prevents him from instantly responding. He stares instead, watching your mouth through lazy blinks.

He doesn’t even consider responding until you tut.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll go get Maria L to take care of you then.”

Luke's eyes widen. Maria L is an excellent healer but she also has a pestering crush on Luke, one that encourages her to touch Luke with grazes that border on harassment and lack any professionalism.

“No! Not her.” Luke would feel bad about his reaction to the girls name if he didn’t have such a one track mind.

Your eyebrows raise to tell him to continue. He does so begrudgingly.

He picks at his fingernails and his cuticles until dead skin peels back to reveal blood. But the sting on his thumb doesn’t compare to the dull pain residing in his groin.

He knows that admitting the truth to you would open the possibility of criticism. His current … illness aside, you would never let him live down the day his nosiness actually reaped consequences. He briefly considers accepting defeat, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, and taking control of the growing boner on his own.

He might be generally inexperienced in these situations, but even he knows that his own fist wouldn’t compare to even the slightest bit of attention from you.

He opens his mouth. “I went in the greenhouse.”

Your eyes widen as if Luke had confessed to committing a cardinal sin, and it’s then that Luke begins to really worry about himself.

“Did you …?” You don’t even have to finish your sentence before he nods. “Luke! You fucking-“

Not really in the mood for your chastising, Luke holds one hand up. He is able to silence you for only a second before you’re slapping his hand away. You’re yelling at him, both for trying to rudely shut you up, and for doing the one thing you told him not to do.

He sits and listens, waiting not-so-patiently for you to tire yourself out. He thought that point would come sooner than it does, but he’s sure that at least two minutes have passed and you’re showing no signs of stopping.

He rolls his eyes, he furrows his eyebrows, and he tries to discreetly adjust the boner in his cargos, but according to you, Luke has never been discreet a day in his life. He has never believed in your so-called ability to see right through him until your eyes pointedly drift to his crotch with his hand still attached to it.

Your insistent rambling ends unfinished. You blink, you don’t say anything. And then:

“Oh.”

At this point, he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. You fill the silence for him.

“Oh, Luke. I told you not to go in there because …”

His eyebrows lift. “Because what?”

You take a breath. “The plant, the Venus Fly, the pollen is an aphrodisiac.”

Luke knows what an aphrodisiac is, he isn’t dumb, but he still asks for clarification. And when you explain, he asks you to dumb it down. Even then, he blinks at you. Because you were right. His nosiness caused this.

He’s considering pitying himself whenever you suggest the one proposed solution, the only solution the Demeter and Apollo kids have been workshopping together ever since acquiring the plant from another kid's quest.

And when your solution comes, Luke determines that there is no way he could pity himself whenever he is in the position he’s been dreaming of for literal years.

He might not have envisioned this particular scenario, as his fantasies usually entailed the two of you alone in a bed not at Camp Half-Blood. But something about this makes him enjoy it more. Out in nature, in the open with many possibilities of being caught surrounding you both. His lips on yours, his lips surrounding yours, as he kisses you messily.

There is something perverse about the idea of getting to fuck you out in the open, gods willing. He didn’t think it was something he would be into, but it’s all he can think about when he’s rutting against you.

He breathes you in. “I’ve …” he takes a moment, rubbing his stiff cock against your crotch once more. He groans as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

You hum, your hands fisting the part of the back of Luke’s shirt that isn’t covered by his armor.

“Luke,” you start and your voice is already full of hesitance. Luke isn’t sure he wants to hear what you have to say, but he knows it would be wrong not to. He busies himself with kissing your neck and under your jaw.

“It’s the pollen talking,” you tell him. “You’re not yourself. You’re basica-“ He bites down onto where he can feel your pulse thrumming under your skin. You gasp, loud and broken, before continuing. “You’re basically drugged.”

Somewhere deep down Luke knows that there’s logic in your statement, there usually is logic in your statements, besides during those times where you would say whatever came to your mind in the late hours of the night. But he doesn’t care, logic be damned.

He knows that he’s felt this way—or at least in the range of this way—for a while now. The pollen has just given him the confidence to act on his desires.

While the pollen has given him confidence, it hasn’t given him experience.

He sloppily kisses along your neck and jaw, not necessarily knowing what he’s doing but he knows he’s expected to suck at one point, so he does. He just wants to please.

You don’t react much to his lips on your skin, so he lifts a hand and slides it under your shirt and armor. The chest piece doesn’t allow for much maneuvering and Luke frowns against your skin before he separates completely to pull the armor off himself.

He knows the clasps on the metal as well as he knows clasps on his favorite pair of pants. Yet his hands fumble. Excitement and the effects of the pollen, he reasons. But his face becomes warm from something other than the two, something he would rather not fully acknowledge. Especially not when he’s about to get his dick wet in the warmth of the one person he’s wanted since he was old enough to actually understand sex.

You ask Luke if he wants your help with your usual teasing tone, but Luke doesn’t take kindly to it. As soon as he has the chest piece off, he has your shirt following it, and then his lips are back on yours.

If even possible, this kiss is heavier. Firmer. Meaner.

He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he calls onto the one other time he’d made out with someone. He remembers how he had been instructed to use his tongue and lick into his partner's mouth (a boy from the Ares cabin who stopped coming to camp a year ago). He had been kind to Luke when he didn’t know what he was doing, but now Luke feels like he needs to prove himself. He wants to prove himself. He wants to impress you.

What results is a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s messy, sloppy, and slobbery.

Luke likes it that way.

You pull away first.

Not much has been done, but you look a mess. Your lips are coated in saliva, probably yours and Luke’s, and pride floods his chest. You look flushed, too, and Luke sincerely hopes he’ll be able to amplify the emotion on your face soon thereafter.

“Slow down. Luke.” Your words are soft, gentle, and kind. Just like you. Just like your hands that card through his still-wet hair.

He winces, and not from the way your fingers snag on a cluster of curls. Wrongly assuming the cause of his sound, you apologize and smooth the patch of hair down. Your hands instead slide down Luke’s shoulders and he tries not to frown at the change.

“Sorry,” he admits. He gnaws on his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of yours, and finds himself continuing. “I haven’t really made out with anyone since …”

You nod, lips pulling up in the corners. “Theo?” Luke nods. “I know. We tell each other everything, remember?”

Not everything.

No one else is privy to the dreams Luke has about you. He has never told you, or anyone else, about all of the times he would fist his cock and chant your name in the showers late at night. In fact, when you would ask what took him so long, he would make up a lie about taking advantage of the hot water and solitude. While it was only a white lie, it was a lie nonetheless.

The innocent and naive look on your face as you accepted his lie by omission only made Luke’s cock harder.

You’re staring up at him now with a look different enough, but his reaction is the same. Your eyes hold interest, intrigue, a little bit of mischief, perhaps. You look sure of yourself, like you’ve done this and in this capacity multiple times before. But Luke knows about your experience, nearly the exact same as his save for a few details he wishes to erase.

When you had dished on your sexual history, Luke felt jealousy stirring deep in his stomach. He had been with other people, a guy and a girl, but that was in hopes of getting his mind off of you. Meanwhile, you had been with other people out of personal interest and not self-deluded necessity.

Either way, your experience is almost the same as Luke’s, and knowing so makes it easier for him to take the lead.

He kisses you again but he tries to go slower. Everything in him screams for him to speed up, to take you how he pleased, but he breathes and pushes the thoughts aside.

Taking it slow pays off when you work the armor off of Luke’s torso (without much difficulty at all), and then slide your hands under his orange shirt to rest your palms against his abs. The feeling of your skin against his is striking, even though the touch isn’t much at all. Pathetically, Luke is affected by the meaning more than the physicality.

“What do you feel now?” You ask him after pulling away from his lips.

Luke’s immediate reflex is to say “horny”.

You roll your eyes and absentmindedly scratch your nails against his abs. When he keens, he figures he’s hornier than even he thought.

“I mean other than that. Your skin is warm so I’m assuming you’re still nearing a fever, at least. Are you lightheaded? Nauseous? Anything?”

Luke feels like he’s been slapped in the face. You were asking about his symptoms like a healer. Like an Apollo kid. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were only touching him to gauge his temperature. Were you only doing this—kissing him—to keep his fever warded off? Did you even want this?

Rationally, he knows that you would do anything to help him. You’re his best friend, after all. But he wants you to want this, otherwise it would mean nothing. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even begin to hold a torch to your previous partners. He would be the one you laid with out of moral obligation and not interest.

He hadn’t been feeling nauseous before, but his throat starts to construct as if preparing to trigger his gag reflex.

He hasn’t responded and you’re looking at him inquisitively.

“Nauseous,” he starts. “Hot. Horny. Are you only doing this to keep me from dying?” The question messily tumbles out without him noticing.

You run your tongue over your teeth. “Yes. But there’s also personal benefits involved.”

Usually, Luke could decipher your maze-like answers. But he’s so hot and worked up and lacking an immense amount of patience.

“So you want to fuck me?”

Luke doesn’t continue his work until you respond.

“Yes, Luke. I want to fuck you.”

He has your shirt over your head in less than a minute. The button on your shorts is undone 30 seconds after that. He has completely forgotten about your plea to go slower, but even if he did remember he wouldn’t be able to comply.

He needs to feel you. All of you. Or else he might collapse then and there.

His hands run over your shoulders and torso gratefully, only appearing as the opposite whenever he runs into your bra (a sports bra, as he had assumed). As soon as he has the straps pulled down, he latches his lips onto the newly revealed skin.

Distantly, Luke thinks he would have liked to have been able to lay you back. He wants to see you laid out before him while you’re completely at his mercy. Luckily, he has learned to adapt. He has been dealt unfavorable cards in his life, and turned them into something worthy. He plans to do the same here and now.

As he sinks to his knees, he pulls your shorts down with him. You don’t have to be told to step out of them, but as soon as you do, you’re looking down at Luke with your eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure? I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m really sweaty.”

Luke doesn’t pay any mind to your words. As you’re speaking, he already has his fingers forced under the elastic fabric of your panties.

“I’m sure.”

He pulls the fabric down.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He pulls your leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt straight to his face.

He has never gotten this far with someone before, he has never even seen examples of what to do in this position. He could back out. He could set your leg back down and only get his dick wet. But you smell so good, and you’re practically glistening in the sun, and you’re staring down at him expectantly so Luke slowly leans forward, sticks his tongue out, and gets to work.

‎

By the time Luke feels even a bit satiated, the sun has started to descend to its destination below the horizon, creating a soft blue hue over the sky.

You’re panting under him, your back and arms painted with dirt, just a bit smudged on your cheek and a few flecks of it strewn throughout your hair. Your stomach rises and falls with your breaths, drawing Luke’s attention to the fresh cum laying there. There’s some dried cum on your back, and just the smallest smudge at the corner of your lips. Luke doesn’t think much before he licks his thumb and wipes away the white crust from your mouth.

He sits back on his haunches and sighs with his head tilted to the sky. His hands rest on his thighs with an exorbitant amount of self control, as he desperately wishes to wrap his fingers around his semi-erect cock and jerk himself to another orgasm.

He thinks that most of the pollen has left his system by now, and at this point the desire he feels is natural. It’s the same desire he has felt for you for a while now, only amplified by the memory of what the real thing was like with you. It’s addicting. Luke truly cannot get enough, even though he has been out here with you for hours. Somewhere along the way, one of the teams won capture the flag. Luke wasn’t sure which one, but the triumphant yells in the distance alerted him of a victory. Somewhere between his third orgasm and your fourth, the conch for lunch blew off into the distance, but Luke had absolutely no concern for satisfying his physical hunger. He was too focused on the sight in front of him.

When he brings his vision back down, you’re sitting with your legs pulled in your chest and your arms wrapped around your calves.

“We should clean up and go have dinner,” you tell him, your voice weak and hoarse.

Fear strikes Luke still. You’re avoiding his eyes, staring down at the dirt, and speaking in a soft voice.

He shuffles closer to you, reaches out to touch you, and then he reconsiders. You take a deep breath, and Luke rests his hand on your elbow.

“Okay. Are you okay? I know that was a lot.”

You look at him and Luke feels a bit better, because while your eyes are a bit distant, you don’t look upset.

“I’ll be okay. ‘m just tired. But what about you, are you fine?”

There is still that nagging in the back of his head, telling him to take you one more time, but his logical part knows that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knows that you’ve had enough. Which means he, too, has had enough.

“I’m good.” He leans forward and presses a kiss into your hairline. He stands, pulls his boxers onto his lower half, and offers you his hand. “C’mon.”

You let Luke help you redress and hold his hand as he leads you back to camp the back way. You two come out of the forest right by the showers, where Luke tells you to wait while he does his best to sneakily run back to the cabins. He grabs himself a change of clothes, then sneaks into the Demeter cabin where he does the same for you.

He knows that he has just seen all of your intimate parts for hours on end, but holding your panties in his hand makes his ears redden. Blood threatens to rush down to his crotch but he fills his head with the most undesirable images until he reaches you.

Two showers are started, you and Luke stand back to back, and Luke enters his shower.

When the bathroom is covered in steam and you’ve both used the remnants of the hot water, you and Luke redress and reach the dining pavilion just in time for dinner.

He falls into the routine of a caring counselor easily. He answers insistent questions about his previous whereabouts with a passing “I was sick” that earns just enough sympathy and stops the questions all together. A few times he looks across the way to see you already looking at him. Instead of dropping his eyes or teasing you with the slyest middle finger he could muster, he smiles at you just slyly enough to not raise suspicion.

When offerings have been given, and Luke feels full in multiple ways, he finds you at the bonfire and sits with his leg flushed to yours.

He had just begun to think that all of the pollen was out until you rested your hand on his knee and he felt a jump in his stomach.

Goddamn it.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo #loser!luke

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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 8 months

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My take on stalker!Tim:

Robin!Jason gets distracted during a patrol and doesn’t meet up with Batman, who panics is mildly concerned. Jason doesn’t want to reveal the real reason he got distracted (could be something he was working on for Bruce or just him being a cute baby nerd) so he makes something up the spot. A kid! He saw a kid. It was definitely child shaped. And. Uh. Photography! That’s right, he saw a kid taking photos and made sure he got home safe.

Batman: Photography?

Robin!Jason: Yeah, uh, nighttime photography.

Batman: At midnight?

Robin: I mean, it’s not a school night.

Batman: What were they taking pictures of?

Robin, panicking and going to the first thing he can think of ch just so happens to be last Sunday when Dick called Bruce an emotionally repressed furry: Uh, wildlife?

Bruce is skeptical but honestly he’s seen weirder things even tonight so as long as the kid got home safe…

Jason proceeds to use this same excuse a few more times.

Batman: Don’t tell me, it was the kid again.

Robin!Jason: You just missed him.

Batman, who isn’t feeling strong parental feelings at all: Hrn.

Okay so then fast forward a few years. Jason is on his little murder training gap year and Tim has shown up to the manor trying to fix the disaster that is currently Bruce Batman Wayne. Dick, trying to bond with the kid now that it’s apparent he’s not going anywhere, asks what Tim’s interests are.

Tim: Well, I like photography, and…

Dick, putting two and two together and getting forty-seven: Ohmygosh you’re the kid.

Tim: The what now?

Dick: The kid with the wildlife photography.

Tim, thinking about that one competition he entered a year ago: Uh, I guess?

Dick thinks that’s how Tim figured out all their identities. He thinks he has it all figured out. He does not. Bruce now thinks he has it figured out too. He does not. Tim is unaware there was something to be figured out. Jason is off learning the finer points of poisoning or something idk.

So skip forward some more and Jason is back, minus some murder attempts or whatever because this is crack, and Dick is now trying to get his two brothers comfortable with each other. It is not working. Finally, Dick remembers they’ve definitely met before.

Dick: So, do you remember meeting Tim before?

Jason, whose memory resembles Swiss cheese but is fairly certain he never met Tim before now: Uh…

Dick: He’s the kid! The one with the wildlife photography!

Jason, suddenly remembering the excuse he used several times as Robin: The what now?

Tim, knowing full well that Jason was very dead at the time he submitted anything in a wildlife category: The what now?

Jason pulls Tim into a hall closet to interrogate him about this.

Tim: There’s like five rooms right here that no one has stepped in in a month. Why are we in a closet?

Jason: What, exactly, did Dick mean by you were the one with the wildlife photography, because I’m pretty sure that was just an excuse I made up but now I don’t know.

They figure it out. They also agree to just let that belief be. Jason doesn’t want to admit he made that all up. Tim doesn’t want to admit he thought Dick had gone to his art competition thing before they even officially met. Tim also doesn’t want to explain how he actually figured out their identities because this sounds way cooler. So they decide to just roll with it.

Damian shows up and tries to hunt down Tim’s early photos of Batman. Tim and Jason get really into making it look like he just keeps missing it. Barbara knew about all of this the entire time but no one asked her so she didn’t bother to fill them in.

Everyone else that joins the family after that point and hears the story of Jason and Tim supposedly meeting while Jason was Robin has the exact same response: “Oh, ‘cause Batman’s a furry. Right.”

#and that’s how jason and tim bonded through misunderstandings and calling batman a furry #something dick unknowingly started #bruce is so done #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #batman #batfam #batkids #what do you mean dc doesn’t stand for disregard canon

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redeyerhaenyra · 5 months

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Divine Hammer

Summary: You bring up something new to Simon. He's more enthusiastic than you expected.

Warnings: What else but smut, HEAVY UK slang usage (me and si come from the same area of England our slang is v similar) Simon slaps reader once, fem reader, oral(f), fingering in BOTH holes, pussy juice as lube, anal duh, simons fat cock, sprinkling of a size kink, mean Simon, kitchen sex mmm, no beta we die like soap (sorry), lmk if I missed anything!

Notes: Listen the taboo of anal just gets me going alright , also this has been in my drafts since JAN 9TH help

Wc: 2.5k

Simon's stare was unnerving. Well, it was always unnerving, to a degree. But he found ways to utilise it. Deadpan humour, emphasising points of conversation, scaring away would-be hookups from you in the pub. But here, it was unnerving in a whole other way.

It felt… intrusive.

Simon stared at you like he could see through your clothes, your body, into your mind to expose your deepest darkest fantasies. You squirmed under his penetrating gaze, tugging at the hem of your jumper.

After a little while of silence, you shook your head, scoffing at yourself;

“-No, nevermind um.. I'm.. s-sorry that was weird-” “Didn’ say tha’ ”

You gulped, gaze nervously fixed to the floor. Simon was still. Staring. At you. Never before had you felt so exposed, too embarrassed and, if you were honest, a little scared to look at your boyfriend face-on.

“Was just wonderin’ since when my bird was such a slag.”

His baritone words rolled down your spine, sending sparks of a deep, taboo satisfaction through you. You whimpered, and hid your face in your hands.

“Don’ act like a prude love, we both heard what you wanted just now.” “I shouldn't have said anythinnnggg-”

Conceptually, anal had… a certain taboo charm to it. From your perspective at least. Sure, it wasn't technically the “right” hole… it wouldn't feel the same, but the idea had always fascinated you.. intruded your shadowed thoughts at night with your fingers rubbing your clit and edging nervously to an opening further on than your cunt.

So, gently, you'd broached the topic one time you were both in the kitchen together- thinking, in hindsight foolishly, that it'd be something he'd instantly dismiss, or at least… talk about later. In the bedroom. Not in the middle of the kitchen… but now here you stood, in the hole you'd dug for yourself;

“On the contrary, I'm relieved you've finally admitted it to yourself.” His footsteps were heavy against the floorboards as he approached you. Confused, you peeked out of the gaps between your fingers to look at him;

“W-what?” “Don't be fuckin’ coy w'me love.” Simon towered over you, cadging you next to the kitchen side.

“Always suspected there was some depraved shit up here, yeah?” He poked your temple with his index finger, “Turns out my intuitions were correct then?”

“T-thats not-” “Oh yes it is sweet’art.” Simon's eyes grew more intense by the second, even more than before- you struggled to even picture them in your mind for fear of his retribution.

“Ay- fuckin’ look at me when I'm talking to ya.”

He could have been a lot harsher with the small smack he delivered to your cheek, but that knowledge did nothing to dull the pain, and your eyes watered a little at the sensation. He grabbed your cheeks between his fingers, squishing them till you pouted and shaking your head lightly, as if to keep hold of your attention.

As if you could look anywhere else…

Forced to return his ferocious gaze, you crumbled, knees bucking like a fawn under you- Simon grabbed you and roughly hauled you back up, manhandling you to bend over the kitchen counter. You allowed him to, biting your lip in an attempt to muffle your unintentional sounds of appreciation.

It earned you a harsh smack to your rear, and Simon's big paw of a hand tugging your hair. He leaned over you, “ ‘M not ‘avin any of tha’ yeah? You're not gonna be hidin’ how much of a slut you are from me anymore sweet'art.”

The juxtaposition of his words and the way he sweetly kissed your temple after he said them was almost comical. The grip on your hair disappeared, replaced with firm and consistent pulling at your clothes until you shuffled out of them- Simon wasted no time running his warm hands up and down your body, rumbling out various admirations of your physical form.

He slunk down your body, nipping and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your back, and then to each of your cheeks, all the way down to your pussy. Earlier on, when you'd ridden yourself of your panties, Simon had laughed at how wet they were. “Already?” He'd asked, “Y'that turned on already? Whore. Like a bitch in heat f'me, ey?”

He had no further comments to mock you with, not now at least. He was busy approving of the view of your wet cunt in front of him- out of the corner of your eye you spied him nodding to himself as if he were appraising fine art.

You huffed, a little impatient, petulant you wiggled your bum at him- only all you got from him was another spank.

“Be patient.” He said curtly.

You whined, but otherwise did as you were told, meekly resigned to your fate as Simon's personal eye candy.

“Why ya’ into it then?” You made a noise of confusion, Simon huffed.

“This.”

One of hands had moved to idly grope and squish your bottom while he'd been down there, and now his thumb creeped ever so slowly over to press on your rim. You keened- suddenly understanding what he meant.

“Well?” His thumb pressed in deeper, you gasped- “I-i don't know!” “Hmmm…”

You could tell from his tone he didn't quite believe you. He kissed your cheek again.

“I'm sure I'll find out.”

With that said, his thumb remained almost gently rubbing at your hole, his free hand moving to pull his balaclava up over his nose- wasting no time in burying himself in your cunt. He sighed contentedly at the taste, smell, feel of you, lazily lapping at your cunny with his broad tongue. His thumb still rubbing you in slow circles, almost.. in a comforting manner.

There was no one more intimidating than Simon- at least out of all the people you've ever met, and yet here he was, eating your pussy like it was a home cooked, three-course meal. You looked over your shoulder, and bit your lip; The visual of big bad Simon Riley on his knees for you, make you shiver and clench.

Simon seemed to be secretly a telepath however, as the way he suddenly roughly pinched your clit between his index finger and thumb- tugging on it cruelly, came off as a punishment. You whined loudly, panting into the counter, drooling a little. Vaguely, you could hear Simon humming thoughtfully to himself. He released his hold on your poor clit, though quickly replaced it by rubbing small, soothing circles on it instead.

It quite quickly becomes a lot more intense, Simon grunting in approval as he plunges his thick tongue into your cunt. Your breathing is staggered, coming out in short, little huffs- you reach behind you to tug at Simon's head, shoving him closer. Again, he groans in appreciation, eagerly nuzzling between your thighs closer, the rhythm of his tongue and fingers rubbing at your clit increased a hundredfold;

Like lighting, your orgasm crashed through you, the noises that left your pussy- wet, squelching, the drip of your juices against the floor, should surely have had you feeling at least some shame, but no. You were too twitchy, too fucked stupid on Simon's tongue to care.

With much reluctantance, Simon hauled himself off of your puffy pussy. He'd gladly stay nestled between your kegs for the rest of him life, at least from further away, he could admire his work.

At this point, you thought perhaps he'd finally get to the meat of what you'd suggested.. Simon wasn't finished yet though- two of his deliciously thick fingers were swiftly shoved into your sopping pussy.

You cried out at the sudden penetration, shivering and trembling.

“What? ..silly cow.” Simon told you gruffly, somewhat annoyed that you'd dare disturb his probing at your cunt with your exclamation of surprise. You whined at his degradation, but were still coherent enough to recognise the underlying affection in his tone. Huffing, you leaned forward to lay your torso fully on the cold, sideboard. The cool temperature of the marble was sharp and sudden, but soon soft and gentle to your hot body, palliative to your hard, puffed up nipples.

He lazily pumped his fingers inside you for a few moments, before curling his fingers forward, dragging against that spongey spot deep within you, and eased his fingers out of you.

You were left huffing and panting like an animal into the counter- Simon had cupped his two fingers- the ones that was just inside of you- just under your clit.. then abruptly he slid them upwards, slowly, pressing down hard.

You squeaked, struggling not to quiver too hard. Simon's fingers kept creeping up and up and up, gliding firmly over your cunny, finally halting at your rim. The hot, wet sensation of Simon rubbing your own slick into your hole as lube had you trembling.

“How's tha?” You heard Simon mumble from behind you, his accent had gotten a little thicker. It always got thicker when he was “in the zone”.

“Oh.. uh..” Seemingly irked by your lack of response, your boyfriend slapped your clit harshly with the back of his hand.

“G-good!! It's good! Good!!” You choked, and whined again when you heard Simon chuckle lowly at you. He tapped his fingers twice on your hole- you nodded shyly at him;

Simon hummed, cautiously easing one of his broad fingers covered in your slick into your ass. The noise of utter debauched pleasure you let escape your throat was nothing compared to Simon's groan-

“Oh fuck that's tight..”

God it was, you felt how hard your greedy hole swallowed up his thick finger. You huffed and puffed- vainly attempting to breath consitently, but your body was too sensitive, muscles pulled too rigid inside you to keep your thoughts on one thing alone.

Simon was your rock, somewhere in the thousands of feelings inside you, was a certainty that he was holding back. Taking it slow, just for you.

You felt the hazey cloud of sex overwhelm you, rendering you more or less unable to speak, only babble incoherently into the counter, your pretty eyes filled with tears as Simon took his sweet, sweet time opening you up.

By comparison to how rough the pads of his digits were, they were remarkably soft with you, even as Simon squeezed one more of his fingers in you. You coughed and hiccups at the fullness of it.

“Tha's it.. good girl.. cmon.. open up luv.. there we go..”

You head him whisper, and you moaned impatiently. You wanted to politely express your readiness for his dick, but all the you were able to whine out was “C-cock-!”

Simon laughed, which was always a nice, comforting rumble. “I know sweet'art, gotta get you a little looser f'me first yeah?”

Even as you keened and begged, Simon would not budge. Occasionally, if he was feeling particularly mean in that moment, he'd flick your poor clit harshly, you'd squeal and twitch. This continued for a while, and by the time he deemed you “ready” you might have passed out, the electric fizzles of pleasure that sizzled between your legs kept you awake.

Simon could tell you were tired, he was gentle with the way he slipped his hand under you tummy to push your bum in the air, and tender with how he cradled your hip. Your clit was kindly soothed with slow, small circles rubbed in by his middle finger.

You sobbed into the side- “cock…” you babbled, sniffing and feeling sorry for yourself. You felt a kiss to the base of your neck;

“Mmmm.. I know baby, I know, m' so mean aren't I?”

Vaguely, you heard yourself murmuring in agreement. The metallic sound of Simon's belt loosening and then his zipper coming down had warm excitement flutter over your body.

You felt the heat of his dick before it even touched you, whimpering when it finally did. Simon rubbed his thick cock up and down the apex of your thighs, right up to hole and then back down to your clit. When you would whine at him, he'd hum right back.

God, he was so much bigger than you. He leant over you and covered your entire body with his bulk. You felt him throb at your rim. A kiss was levied at your neck- “Y’ready?” He asked, voice low, and you babbled back something that sounded like impatience. Simon chuckled and kissed your neck again, bracing one strong arm against the counter next to you.

All of a sudden he was inside you, not all the way but he was inside you and that's all you could think about. You gasped, inadvertently holding your breath and then once more remembering to breathe. Simon had stayed silent throughout this.. you reached backwards for him with one hand;

“Si?” “Y-yeah, yeah m’here, g’ve us a minute love-”

His voice came out ragged and shaky, and from the sounds of it he was doing the same forgetting-to-breath thing you were.

You both needed occasionally little breaks from him sliding his cock inside you this time, either of you would cum too quickly. But soon, all of him was pressed snugly inside you. You drooled on the counter and Simon's head had dropped to rest on your back, taking slow, steady breaths, grounding himself.

The both of you stayed like this for a while. It was almost peaceful. Soft. Till Simon decided he was fine to move and dragged his dick alllllllll the way back out and then in again in one thrust. It left you choked for breath, Simon too, he was more vocal this time than any other time you'd fucked.

Neither of you lasted long, specially not after your boyfriend had clasped his big paw of a hand under your leg, and lifted it up onto the counter next to you, an entirely new and more intimate angle. You were cumming before you even realised Simon had crept his hand down to pinch your clit. He was so mean about it too- that same hand then came up to shove to of his fingers into your mouth, creating a spit-slicked mess. And when he came it was an event:

He threw his head back and moaned more desperately than you'd ever heard from him before. The rhythmic squelch that narrated your encounter kept going even after he'd cum, if anything it was louder now. His and your cum dripping down out of you and puddling on the floor beneath you. Still, meekly, Simon kept thrusting into you, as if the orgasm was too good to end. Though finally it did, Simon's weight all but collapsing ontop of you.

You stayed like that for a while, still connected. Basking in your respective afterglows. Simon kissed your neck again and you croaked out a satisfied noise;

“Fun..” The man behind you laughed, “Yeah fun was it? Just fun eh? Just fun~?” Cruelly he reached under you to tickle your sides- you squealed; “More than f-fun!!” and that seemed to sate him, releasing you.

“Yeah, s’what I thought…..” He drummed his fingers on the counter..

“Bath?” “bath….”

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost cod #codmw2 smut #cod mw2

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vmlnrznotfound · 2 months

Note

Hello! I saw the open requests, could you please make another one of we are mad at The boys?, with Raichi, Reo and Nagi? pretty please!

I loved your writing, please take your time and take care <3

[PART2] MY GIRL IS MAD AT ME, I HOPE I DIE.

characters: raichi, reo, nagi

a/n: hi anonnie, glad you love my writing! take care too!

RAICHI JINGO

you were trying your best to ignore raichi’s loud attempts to get your attention, but it was nearly impossible. he was ranting about how unfair it was that you were still mad at him. his loud voice echoed through the house as he complained, and his frustration was palpable.

“i said i’m sorry!” raichi groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. he was clearly used to getting his way with his brash personality, and your silent treatment was driving him crazy. you rolled your eyes and turned away, continuing to ignore him as you scrolled through your phone.

raichi’s impatience reached its peak, and before you could react, he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you up from your seat. without a word, he lifted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried you toward the bedroom.

“put me down!” you demanded, but he ignored your protests, his grip tight and unyielding. he kicked open the door to the bedroom and unceremoniously dumped you onto the bed. his rough approach left you stunned, and you stared up at him in disbelief.

he leaned over you, his eyes fierce and determined. “i’m not letting you leave this room until you forgive me,” he declared, his voice low and intense. “you can be mad all you want, but i’m not going anywhere until you tell me what i need to do to make this right.”

“you can’t just force me to forgive you,” you shot back, sitting up on the bed and glaring at him. “that’s not how it works.”

he groaned, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “then tell me how it works! i don’t know how to do this stuff, alright? i’m not good with…with feelings and all that crap. but i hate this. i hate seeing you like this, knowing it’s my fault.”

MIKAGE REO

reo was at his wit's end. he'd tried everything—flowers, chocolates, even your favorite pastries from that fancy bakery downtown—but nothing seemed to break through the wall of silence you’d built around yourself. you sat on the couch, your attention fully absorbed in a book, acting as if reo wasn’t even there.

“please, talk to me,” reo pleaded, kneeling beside the couch. his usually confident demeanor was replaced with a look of genuine concern. “i’m sorry, okay? i know i messed up, but can’t you at least say something?”

reo’s patience was running thin, but he knew getting angry would only make things worse. he sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours, but you shifted slightly away, still not acknowledging his presence.

“come on, don’t do this,” reo whispered, leaning in closer, his voice tinged with desperation. “i’m really sorry. you know i’d do anything to make it up to you.”

"..."

“if you won’t talk to me,” he said, his voice low and intense, “then i’ll just have to stay here until you do. i’m not going anywhere until you forgive me.”

he shifted closer this time, his presence impossible to ignore. reo reached out and gently took your hand, holding it firmly even when you tried to pull away.

“i’m not perfect,” he admitted quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “but i love you, and i hate that you’re upset because of me. i’m not going to leave until we fix this, even if it means sitting here in silence until you’re ready to talk.”

NAGI SEISHIRO

“i’m not letting go until you forgive me. stop resisting.” nagi seishiro, usually so relaxed and detached, was now hovering over you, his arms wrapped around you tightly. his head rested on your chest, his breath warm against your skin as he held you close.

you shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but nagi only tightened his embrace. “let me go,” you whispered, but his grip only grew firmer.

“no,” he said, his tone soft but resolute. “be mad. be upset. but you won’t leave until you forgive me. you’re staying right here with me,”

he continued to cuddle you, his muscular build making it impossible for you to escape his hold. nagi’s usual carefree attitude was replaced with a rare vulnerability as he stayed close, hoping that his presence alone would help bridge the gap between you and make things right.

“please,” he added quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “just tell me what i need to do. i’m not letting go until you say it.”

“seishiro” you murmured, frustration lacing your words. you tried again to free yourself, but his arms remained unyielding.

"no longer your sei now?" nagi’s grip tightened further, his face pressing closer to your chest. “i know i messed up,” he admitted, his voice muffled by your clothing. “but i can’t fix it if you’re not here with me. i’m trying to show you that i care. i know saying sorry isn’t enough.”

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #raichi x reader #reo x reader #nagi x reader #raichi jingo #mikage reo #nagi seishiro

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princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

How did midsummer go with pogue!rafe and kook!reader? Did he fight jj because he tried to talk to her? What was her parents reaction? Did she let him put it in her butt?

˖⁺‧₊˚🧁˚₊‧⁺˖

he was a little bashful to be honest. i mean he’s a huge guy — may i reiterate pogue!rafe specifically stands at a whopping 6’5 so there’s no way for him to effectively just blend in to the corner. he attracts eyes anywhere he goes.

he cleans up nice but he’ll roll his eyes if you say anything, turning up in his rented suit to drive you to the country club where midsummer was taking place. he swings the door open for you, and when you hop out you’re instantly on him— fixing his collar and his tie, any excuse to press yourself up on him, hands roaming.

“quit it alright, not even inside yet and you’re touching all on me” he shrugs you off, walking ahead. he’s agitated and a little more touchy than usual but it makes you smile. your rafey was nervous. he sighs as he walks, knowing you’re picking up on his mood. whatever — he’d do it for the promised anal sex.

he loosens up a tiny bit after a drink is placed in his hand. he’s a little surprised, the man in the suit at the door didn’t look at him funny or like he wasn’t supposed to be there. he even called him sir.

you hang off his arm, swanning around chatting and socialising as he stands in disinterest like a stony-faced accessory. you’re grinning ear to ear after a glass and a half of wine because his hand is on your lower back and sometimes, perhaps without even realising he rubs big warm circles on it. you just wanted him all to yourself.

“damn, who let this dude in?” jj’s jokey voice rings out and rafes all tense again, glaring at the fellow pogue dashing about collecting empty glasses on his tray.

“kind of unprofessional to be harassing guests on the job— alright, matter of fact where’s your boss maybe i uh, maybe i should let them know—” rafe is immediately in his face, tongue in cheek, looking down at the blonde like he was ready to throw hands so of course you’re slotting yourself between and urging him away. you couldn’t have that kind of tomfoolery tonight.

the second wave of tension came when your parents had finally stepped away from their social circles for a moment to revel in the shock of you bringing the handyman as your date. perhaps you didn’t really think it through, maybe they’d put two and two together and they’d certainly stop inviting him round to fix things which was annoying, as it was the few times you actually got to see him.

your father asks you to come on a little ‘walk’ with him, in which you reluctantly leave rafe’s side for a moment — just praying he behaves himself and jj stays out of his way. the thought of you returning to scrambling bodies on the floor and smashed plates and glasses had your body tensing.

the two of you stroll through the grounds, admiring all the fairy lights and dancing tipsy country club members paired with small talk before he finally breaches what he really wants to ask — being “why him, sweetheart? why rafe cameron our handyman? there are plenty of nice, respectable young men who come from a more… well, a background that just reflects you, a little more honey. what do you even have in common with this guy?”

“you don’t understand, dad. i like him, he’s different and the guys round here are weird and — and stuck up! you know i don’t like that dad, i told you!” you feel yourself regress, feeling like a scolded child again as you attempt to put your foot down, pushing through with your complaints even when you see your parent shaking his head in disapproval.

“i am just trying to protect you — rafe is a huge guy, to put it gently i don’t want my little girl getting hurt! you know how pogues are they’re… they’re undignified! what if he hurts you, huh? you wouldn’t be able to fight him off!”

“he’s not going to hurt me and i’m not a little girl. i’m an adult, and i can make my own choices.”

you don’t give him a chance to respond, already storming back down the golf hill the two of you stood on and back towards rafe — looking a little out of place yet somewhat slightly relaxed. his brows jump into a frown, blinking in confusion when he see’s your state — the most wound up he’s ever seen you.

“hey— wh— what happened out there?” he emphasises, and when you don’t respond, just grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bar his mouth turns down, shaking his head with a little shrug at being ignored. “not gonna tell me? alright.” he brushes off, irritated by your lack of communication.

he watches you order another glass of wine, before downing it — the pogue grimacing a little as he watches it trickle down the side of your mouth.

“alright— okay, jesus kid.” he gently bats the glass away and wipes your chin with the back of his wrist, still shaking his head. “can you talk to me?”

“i don’t wanna be with a kook boy. they’re all evil and stuck up and i just don’t like them. i’m a grown up and — and i can make my own decisions and my dad doesn’t have that kind of power over me okay only — only you— you can tell me—” you’re rambling, a little drunk and incoherent as rafe squints at you, bent a little to be able to see you better.

“breathe, alright… m’taking you home. this shit’s not good for you.” the cameron boy wraps an arm around your waist, all but manhandling you in a public- appropriate way toward the exit and piling you into the passenger seat of his car.

the car ride home is quiet aside from a few little sniffles from you, and he doesn’t really know what to say — so he doesn’t say anything. he had a funny way of showing he cares, and is more of an acts of service kinda guy anyway.

you’re still all loose and tipsy when he gets you back to your empty home, still marvelled by how fancy and large it is in comparison to his own. one moment he’s holding a glass of water to your mouth saying “drink.”, wiping you up when it spills down you once more — and then next minute he’s sheepdogging you into your bedroom, glancing around. “now get your little pyjamas or whatever. you’re goin’ t’bed to sleep this off. you’ll be fine.” he drawls, looking round to help you.

upon looking back at you, you’ve already managed to zip off your dress — your mood suddenly a lot more lifted as you bite back your drunken giggles.

“but rafey, i haven’t delivered my promise?” you’re all fluttery lashes and pouts as you touch his chest, the man before you sighing like it was the first time he’d breathed all day. “wan’ed you to put it in my ass all night.” you groan, all high pitched and needy — and fuck does he wanna give in. fuck does he deserve it — should pin you down and take what he wants right now, making you squeal and cry into your sheets, begging for some kind of stimulation in your cunt only to be rewarded with his big hot load in your ass before he tails out of that place before your parents return.

but it wasn’t right. since when did he care about doing what was right?

“nah kid, we’ll revisit that soon alright you’re — you are not in the right state… okay— so just… get into bed. come on.” his voice is a little softer in defeat at his own overwhelming affections and he guides you to the bed, shucking off his blazer and throwing it to the side as he pulls the blankets over you.

“can you stay?” you pout, sleepy as soon as your head hits the pillow.

“…no.” he scratches his cheek, the other large hand resting on your back and rocking you gently like a baby, not sure of how this all works.

you didn’t expect him to say yes, but it still disappoints you. however once your eyes are closed, they don’t open again — and soon you’re waking up in the morning to a hangover and no rafe.

˖⁺‧₊˚🧁˚₊‧⁺˖

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #pogue!rafe

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jeicey · 2 months

Note

How about an evie x reader where evie is trying to get with reader just how she was with chad. Except reader isn’t a jerk, just clueless

Her Oblivious Charming

Evie x Charming!Fem!Reader

Summary: Where Evie tries to charm Cinderella's daughter, not knowing you're an oblivious idiot.

Words: 2.3k

WARNINGS:Oblivious!reader, Chad is your brother, Mention of bugs, not proofread and rushed ending.

A/N:Y'ALL THE EVIE REQUESTS MIGHT BE DELAYED 'CAUSE SCHOOL IS COMING UP AND I HAVE TO GET READYY, I'M SO SORRY OMG. ANYWAY, I loved writing this tysm for the request, also ty for prompt writers, they're my saving grace fr.

"Any chance she's in line for a throne?" Evie inquired, her head tilted sideways as she leaned on her knuckles, her gaze fixed dreamily on you. "Anywhere in line?" she continued, her eyes wide with fascination. You, oblivious to the conversation, were grappling with a complex science equation, your pen poised above the paper as you furrowed your brow in concentration.

Doug followed Evie's line of sight with a raised eyebrow. "Y/N, Princess Charming, Cinderella's daughter?" Evie's head snapped up, a brilliant smile lighting her face

"Y/N inherited the charm, but not a lot of there, there, know what I mean...?" Doug trailed off, gesturing vaguely. Their attention returned to you as you winced and rubbed your nose after accidentally tossing your pen in the air and catching it with your face.

"Looks like there-there to me," Evie sighed dreamily, returning her head to her knuckles. "Any chance she's single?" she asked, her voice soft and hopeful as she turned to Doug.

Doug exhaled slowly. "Despite living up to her last name, she's never had a romantic partner," he admitted, continuing to scribble on his paper. "At least, not that I know of," he added as an afterthought.

Perfect. Evie loved a challenge.

She was wrong.

You weren't single because you were guarded,commitment-phobic,

or anything like that.

The truth was far simpler: you were clueless.

No offense, but you were an absolute oblivious idiot.

She let out a frustrated sigh, collapsing onto the side of her bed. The memory of her failed flirtation attempts replayed in her mind like a painful montage.

There was that time in science class, for instance. Partners for a project, where she saw her chance.

[ The science lab was a cacophony of bubbling liquids and crackling test tubes. As you bent over a Bunsen burner, carefully heating a test tube, Evie’s voice cut through the lab’s hum.

"There's something on your face," Evie's gaze was fixed on your face, her lips curved into a subtle smirk as she hovered a hand near your cheek.

Your head snapped up, your face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and panic. "What?" you managed to squeak out.

Her lips curved into a sly smile as she started, "Beautifu-" but before she could finish, your brain had already processed the word "something" as a code red for "bug." Terror seized you, you were terrified of bugs.

"Is it a bug?! GET IT OFF, WAIT!" you shrieked, your hands flailing wildly as you tried to dislodge the imaginary insect.

Your desperate attempts to rid your face of the nonexistent bug sent your elbow crashing into a shelf of glassware. Test tubes, flasks, and beakers rained down, shattering on the unforgiving tile floor. A cloud of white smoke rose from a broken container, setting off the fire alarm.

Evie's smirk vanished, replaced by a mixture of amusement and disbelief. She glanced at Doug, who was silently contemplating the ceiling, his palm pressed dramatically against his face.

That’s how their science project ended in disaster, earning them both a failing grade and a week of detention. It was also Evie’s unfortunate discovery of your knee deep(IN THE PASSENGER SEATT) fear of bugs.]

Undeterred, she tried again.

[After enduring a week of detention and her relentless, albeit unsuccessful, flirtations, Evie finally asked you out—a walk outside that is. You interpreted it as a purely platonic gesture, of course.

Under the night sky, during a post-detention walk, she took a chance, Evie turned to you with a hopeful glint in her eye. "My hands are a bit cold, " she said, her voice soft. "Would you mind holding them?" Her hands rubbed together dramatically.The classic move, she thought, a smirk tugging at her lips.

To her surprise, you took her hand. Her heart pounded in her chest. This was it, the moment she'd been waiting for.

But instead of the anticipated warmth of your hand, she felt the rough texture of fabric. There you pulled out a pair of mittens out of God knows where and slipped it on her hand

Where the hell did that come from?

"Here, you can take my gloves," you said with a completely innocent smile. You carefully fitted the mittens onto her hand, your touch gentle. It took a full five minutes of awkward fumbling before both mittens were securely in place.

She managed a small “thanks” as she tried to hide her flushed face. No! You were supposed to be the flustered one, not her!

And so, they continued walking. Plan failed, spectacularly? Well, at least she’d had her first physical contact with you. She’d take it.]

"At this point you'd have to be pretending not to know," Evie sighs a hint of exasperation coloring her voice as she pushed herself up from the bed, her body still bearing the imprint of the soft mattress. Her hand instinctively reached for the hand mirror lying beside her, and she began to fuss with her hair to fix it, the disarray a reflection of her internal frustration.

"Right?" Evie started, her words hanging in the air as her reflection revealed Mal, sprawled out on the bed in a deep slumber. An exasperated roll of her eyes followed, and she brought a finger to her lips in an attempt to fix the smudged lipstick. Her voice was muffled by the gesture as she muttered, "Very helpful." The sudden, forceful intrusion of their dorm room door startled her.

Didn't they lock the door?

The door swung open, revealing you in an oversized jacket, your face etched with panic. Your left hand gripped a key tightly.

Evie, still preoccupied with her hand mirror, glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Is that a key to...our dorm?" she questioned, her voice laced with confusion.

You nodded frantically, your urgency palpable. "My brother— it doesn't matter. You have to help me!" Your words tumbled out in a rush as you darted towards Evie, your foot catching something on the floor, causing you to stumble.

"You know how to sew, right?" You breathed out sharply, landing on Evie's bed with a bounce.

Evie's eyebrows shot up in question. "Yeah, why— hey!" Her hands instinctively flew to your chest as you began to unzip your hoodie with surprising urgency. She'd love to get there, but not so soon!

"No, my— blouse, I broke it!" Your explanation was breathless and rushed. The hoodie finally fell open, revealing a cream-colored blouse with three missing buttons.

Evie swallowed hard, hergaze flickering away from the slight exposure of your cleavage. "R-right, of course," she coughed, trying to regain her composure.

"My brother, I—this is his blouse," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "I need to get it fixed now before he sees it and tells Mom! He's looking for me right now! And if I—"

Evie's hand gently covered yours, silencing your frantic words. Her touch was surprisingly calming, grounding you amidst the chaos of your thoughts. With a steady exhale, she removed your hands from your face and placed them gently on your lap.

"Alright, calm down," she said, her voice firm yet soothing. "I'm going to get my sewing kit."

Rising from the bed, Evie walked towards a cluttered table overflowing with sketches and fabric scraps. After a brief search, she returned with a small box and sat down on the bed.

"Can you..." Evie began, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze flickered between the damaged blouse and your expectant face. You tilted your head, curiosity evident in your eyes. She knew what she wanted to say, a simple request to make her task easier. But the image of you without the blouse flashed through her mind, and a blush crept up her cheeks. The distraction would be too much. With a frustrated sigh, she abandoned the thought. "Nevermind," she concluded.

Your impatience was growing by the second. "Please hurry," you pleaded, your voice rising slightly. Your hands fidgeted nervously in your lap.

She nodded in agreement and gently lifted the lid of the sewing kit box. With practiced hands, she rummaged through the assortment of supplies until she found a button that perfectly matched the color of the blouse. Carefully selecting a needle of suitable size and a length of matching thread, she gathered her tools. Leaning in closer, she gently grasped the loose placket of your brothers blouse with her thumb, steadying the fabric as she prepared to sew the button securely in place.

Your breath caught in your throat as you became acutely aware of Evie's proximity. Her warm breath fanned across your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. Her concentration was intense, her eyebrows drawn together in a furrow, but her eyes held a captivating allure that you hadn't noticed before. Their rich, brown color was like melted chocolate, flecked with golden specks.

Your gaze darted away, desperate for a distraction. The room, once neutral, had transformed into a suffocating chamber.

Your hands, seeking an anchor, found their way to the bed sheet, gripping it tightly as if it were a lifeline. A wave of relief washed over you as Evie momentarily broke the intense proximity, her head turning to retrieve another button.

Tick

Tock

The ticking of the clock, normally a soothing rhythm, now seemed to mock your escalating discomfort. It was as if the universe was conspiring against you.

Evie's voice, soft and laced with genuine concern, pierced through your turmoil. Her honey-brown eyes, filled with empathy, met yours, and in that moment, you felt exposed and vulnerable. A strangled sob threatened to escape your lips, but you managed to suppress it, replacing it with a shaky exhale. Your grip on the bed sheet tightened, a desperate attempt to ground yourself. A feeble excuse formed on your lips, a claim of oppressive heat, which Evie accepted with a sympathetic murmur.

As she moved to the third button, a knot of anticipation formed in your stomach. Her fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. The delicate tendrils of her dark blue hair grazed your chin, carrying the intoxicating scent of mint that seemed to seep into your senses. Unconsciously, you leaned in, drawn to her comforting aroma as if it were a lifeline in a stormy sea.

"There, all do-" Evie announced triumphantly, her face breaking into a smile as she looked up at you. Unprepared for the sight of you leaning in so closely, her eyes widened in surprise. Every thought in her mind evaporated, replaced by a single, overwhelming impulse, as your eyes locked onto hers - a desire, a pull, a magnetic force drawing her closer. Her heart pounded in her ears as she tilted her head, her gaze dropping to your lips. Their lips were mere inches apart and then—

BAM!

The abrupt crash of the dorm door against the wall jolted them apart, their hearts pounding in their ears.

"You two idiots! They were about to kiss!" Mal's voice, laced with irritation, cut through the silence. Your heads snapped in her direction to find her sitting nonchalantly on her bed, a pillow clutched in her hands.

A wave of embarrassment washed over you both as you realized she'd witnessed the entire ordeal. Your mind raced, trying to decipher how long she'd been awake and if she'd seen the desperate grip you'd had on the bedsheet earlier.

"Mal – oh, why's she here?" Carlos's voice echoed through the room as he stumbled in, Jay trailing behind him. Jay caught the pillow Mal had tossed in his direction and hurled it back at her in playful retaliation.

Mal caught the pillow with a practiced ease, her eyes rolling as she regarded the newcomers.

"They were about to kiss," she repeated, a smirk playing on her lips.

"We weren't!" you stammered, your voice barely a whisper, but your words were cut short by the sharp, insistent sound of your brother's voice calling your name. Your heart pounded in your chest as his voice grew closer, the panic rising within you. "You guys have to hide me!" you pleaded, your voice rising in desperation.

"Come on." Evie's hand found yours, her grip firm and reassuring as she pulled you towards the closet. Together, you squeezed into the cramped space, your bodies pressed close together, as Mal quickly shut the closet door, muffling the sounds of the approaching chaos.

A low, indistinct voice, muffled by an intervening barrier, reached your ears. It was your brother's voice, inquiring about your presence.

"I heard her voice!" Chad exclaimed, his tone filled with alarm. "Did you kidnap my sister?!"

Mal's response was swift and defensive. "Why would we kidnap your sister?"

Their voices began to fade as Evie's fingers gently turned your head, forcing you to face her.

"Be honest, do you know?" Evie inquired softly, her face partially illuminated by the dim glow seeping from outside the closet. Her voice was as gentle as a whisper.

"Know what?"

A playful chuckle escaped her lips as she placed her hands on your shoulders. "That I like you, Dummy."

Your mind raced as you tried to process her confession. "You do? But I like you too! I thought you liked my brother, because I overheard you and Doug talking about a charming sibling, and I- I thought you were straight becau-" Your stammering attempt at explanation was abruptly halted as Evie's lips met yours.

Surprise washed over you, but you instinctively responded to the warmth of her kiss. Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer as your knees threatened to buckle. The taste of cherry lip balm lingered on your tongue, Your heart pounded in your chest, sending a rush of excitement through your body that felt like a cascade of fireworks exploding within your stomach.

"You're an oblivious idiot." She chuckled, pulling away from the kiss with a playful smile. Her eyes sparkled as she took a moment to admire yours, her hands gently cupping your cheeks. She leaned in slowly, savoring the moment before kissing you again.

"I'm your oblivious idiot."

Can you tell the ending is rushed? ;)

#evie grimhilde x fem!reader #evie grimhilde #evie #evie x reader #descendants #disney descendants #evie grimhilde x reader #evie descendants #descendants fanfiction

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kingkatsuki · 5 months

Text

>>> Reply sent at 1:28AM: who knew Dynamight was such a slut?

Read the other replies here.

Here is my part to the Thirst Trap collab for Bakugou’s birthday! Please check out all the other fics at the link above💕

Happy Birthday to the King👑

Warnings: 18+, intoxicated Bakugou, dirty talk, sending dirty videos, sexting, m!masturbation, voyuerism, exhibitionism, creampies.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Shindou Yo x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Bakugou’s thumb paused against the screen when he saw that particular message in a sea of hopeful replies, a lump tight at the back of his throat as he swallowed thickly in a feeble attempt to clear it.

He’d recognise that profile photo anywhere. Grand’s girlfriend.

Bakugou had spent more than one night fisting his cock to the thought of you, although he’d never admit it. Remembering just how pretty you looked at the hero gala last month in a dress that left very little to the imagination, leaving him bricked up for his acceptance speech as he thought about bending you over in the men’s bathroom stalls.

And part of him thought he might even have a chance with you, if he could get you away from Grand just long enough. Remembering the syrupy scent of your perfume invading his senses when you stood up on tip-toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to give him a hug after he’d received his award; leaving a sticky lipgloss stain against the shell of his ear when you whispered against it how proud you were of him. And he was certain he wouldn’t make it out of the building alive. His boxers now glazed with dry pre and his cock throbbing desperately for any kind of sweet relief.

And now you were messaging him?

Bakugou was quick to click onto your profile, navigating directly towards the direct message option to see he’d already received a slew of them, but they didn’t appear to be from you.

YOU[1:57AM]: Aww you didn’t think that message was actually from her, did you?

Shit, Bakugou grunted as his cock still throbbed pitifully between his thighs, of course Shindou was the one texting from your phone and not you. Certain he could hear Shindou’s condescending tone through text.

YOU[1:58AM]: Oh, you did? You sick fuck hahahahaha.

YOU[1:58AM]: She’d never message you without telling me anyway.

Bakugou growled in irritation as he read through each message. Of course, Shindou texts were just as annoying as the man was in real life.

YOU[1:59AM]: But you should’ve seen how excited she got when you sent that tweet.

YOU[2:00AM]: It made her stupid little crush on you even worse.

Wait, what? Bakugou’s heart pounded at the realisation as he saw the next message. A link to a video that had a pitch black screen to start, his heart hammered against his chest as he clicked onto it.

And there you were spread out in all your naked glory. The sordid fantasies Bakugou had while stroking his cock at night would never compare to the sight of you like this— spread out against tousled sheets as you stared up at the camera through thick lashes.

The perfect point of view, Bakugou thought as he imagined himself above you.

“I guess I should be thanking you for this, Dynamight.” Shindou sneered, reaching out to mould one of your round breasts between slender fingers. Pinching at your taut nipple as a groan rumbled deep in Bakugou’s chest, “Getting my girl all riled up in the middle of the night.”

Bakugou wondered if he’d actually fallen asleep, because this had to be a dream. Reaching down to palm his cock through his damp boxers as crimson eyes roamed your naked skin, trying to commit the sight to memory.

“Lucky I was right here to fix it,” He continued, “That what got you excited huh, sweetheart?”

Shindou’s voice rung out from behind the camera as he fucked into your body with slow, deliberate thrusts. Each precise motion had your tits bouncing, a calculated move from his rival, he thought. Watching the way your lips parted in sultry moans every time he drew back, trying to coax him deeper as your cunt gushed around him.

“Thinking about Dynamight’s hard cock.” And Bakugou’s cock was hard, throbbing with neglect as he wrapped a large fist around himself to curl his wrist. Smearing pre, that was now drooling down his engorged head along the length of him as crimson eyes watched the video.

“He shoulda just text you if he wanted a birthday treat, huh?” Shindou continued, panning the camera down to where your bodies were connected so Bakugou could see the creamy rings of slick around the base of his cock each time he drew his hips back, “You’d have been more than happy to get on your knees for him.”

Bakugou whined pitifully at the thought of you like that, looking up at him all pretty and shit as you wrapped your glossy lips around his cock. His hand tightened around himself as he he pumped himself with calculated measure. Following Shindou’s movements as he fucked into your warm, wet cunt as he tried to replicate the sensation. Positive that nothing would ever feel as good as the real thing—

“Say his name, sweetheart,” Shindou continued, bringing the camera up towards your face, “Come on, it’s his fuckin’ birthday.”

“Katsuki,” The lewd squelch of your cunt aired in the background as Bakugou focused in on the desperate lilt to your voice when you repeated it, “Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted as he leaned forward, pursing his lips together to spit onto his cock. Smearing the moisture along his length as he imagined it was you sinking down onto his length instead.

“God, you’re such a nasty slut,” Shindou continued, as though he hadn’t been the biggest instigator, “Moaning another guys name while I’m balls deep. Bet you’re thinking about him fuckin’ this sweet, sweet cunt too?”

“Oh my god, fuck—” You mewled, hands reaching up to paw at your tits as Bakugou watched the way your hands dipped into the soft skin.

“Is that it?” Shindou pressed, “You want Dynamight to fuck this sloppy pussy?”

“Yes!” You cried out, cunt clenching around him.

“Oh, shit.” Shindou rasped, the camera angle faltering as he jolted with pleasure. Almost dropping his phone as he readjusted himself above you, the camera now angled lower to show Shindou’s thick cock disappearing inside your tight cunt. A sheen of your slick glistened around the base of him as he kept his languid pace.

“We should invite him round, then?” Shindou continued, “It is his birthday, after all.”

You gasped at the implication, your body reacting to your boyfriend’s words as he smirked down at you. Giving the side of your thigh a playful swat as you moaned in response.

“Yeah? You like the sound of that?” Shindou cooed, “She clenched around me so fucking hard when I said that.”

Bakugou groaned, squeezing his fist around himself in a pitiful attempt to mimic the action. Trying to replicate the grip of your cunt around him as he pictured the pretty faces you’d make for him.

“‘m close,” You panted, biting down on your bottom lip as Bakugou felt his balls tightening at the sight, dangerously close to his own end.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?” Shindou coaxed, his thumb disappearing between your thighs to press taut circles to your puffy clit, “Show Dynamight how pretty you look when you’re cumming all over my cock, sweetheart.”

And fuck, did you look pretty. Bakugou thinks. Your eyes rolling to show their whites as your lashes flutter, lips curled into the prettiest moan he’s ever heard as you begin to convulse. Nails leaving dark lines against your tits as you mould the supple skin, thighs raising in the air to try and clamp down around Shindou’s hips.

“Fuck,” Bakugou snarled between clenched teeth as he sped up his movements, rough and sloppy as he desperately tried to meet your climax. Wanting to tumble into bliss by your side as the camera moved back towards your slick heat, his hips jerking sloppily as he felt himself come undone. Sending streams of milky cum against his hand, thighs and the new sheets he’d put on for his special day. A whole ass mess.

“Bet you would’ve preferred cumming inside this perfect little pussy,” Shindou spoke, as if he knew Bakugou would be touching himself while watching.

Slowly pulling his spent cock out of your trembling hole before moving the phone between your thick thighs so Bakugou could see the gape. A stretch Bakugou wished he’d inflicted on you as he brought his phone closer to his face to try and see the way your walls still fluttered in the aftershocks of your release, his spent cock throbbing when he noticed you begin to push Shindou’s warm spunk out of your abused hole. Watching it drool down between the curve of your ass before Shindou’s thumb came up to collect it; pushing it back inside you as you let out another sinful moan of delight.

“You think Dynamight would fuck you this good, sweetheart?” Shindou coaxed as the pads of his fingers circled your stretched hole.

“Mmm, I think he would,” You mumbled, gasping when Shindou’s palm came down hard on your slit, catching you by surprise.

“Course you’d think that,” Your boyfriend laughed, shaking his head as he leaned down to press a kiss to your pouty lips.

“Maybe you should come and get your birthday head,” Shindou turned the camera around to show his smirking face as he sat shirtless above you, “So you can show her how tiny your cock really is.”

Bakugou shared up at the ceiling with blown out eyes, wondering if he’d sobered up enough to move as his chest still heaved with the intensity of his climax. Taking a deep breath before he moved to stand, grabbing his keys off the bedside table as he shoved his softening cock back into his jeans.

Fuck it, he’ll get an Uber.

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #Shindou smut #Shindou x reader #yo Shindou smut #yo Shindou x reader

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zorobff · 1 year

Text

i bet on losing dogs. (opla!zoro x reader)

synopsis: zoro is defeated by mihawk and therefore unable to claim the title of the world’s greatest swordsman. you just want him to know that he’s still the greatest to you.

warnings: mentions of blood, some direct dialogue from opla, not much romance i literally just wanted someone to tell zoro he’s enough bc he deserves it <3

a/n: idk if this is any good i just wanted an excuse to write and one piece has been my fixation for like 2 months now so :P

you can’t move.

it seems as if every bone in your body is frozen in place despite your brain telling you to do something — anything. you stand there, eyes helplessly locked onto zoro’s weak and defeated body. your heart is racing and you’re unable to stop your mind from doing the same. after all, there was a certain unease that came with seeing someone like roronoa zoro be conquered. his dream of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman had been crushed within minutes. knowing zoro, that thought would be tougher to overcome than any physical wound.

you want to run to him. to be with him.

luffy beats you to it.

“zoro!” he shouts with such pain that you wonder if he’s somehow hurting more than the swordsman is.

the sight of your captain sprinting across the deck of the baratie manages to push you to action. the two of you rush to zoro’s side, trying and failing to look anywhere but the bright red gash across his torso. it’s even worse up close. with every heave of his chest, more blood oozes out.

the cut is impossibly deep and yet, you can’t help but feel grateful. you’d seen the size of mihawk’s sword. the thing could’ve split zoro in half with the flick of a wrist. just the thought of that sends a new wave of shivers down your spine. you thank every higher power that mihawk was feeling generous enough to spare your friend’s life.

“zoro?” you attempt to say his name calmly. “zoro, please talk to us.”

his eyelashes flutter as he attempts to keep conscious. you see the subtle wincing in his face, the clenching of his jaw. for a second you wish he would have passed out, at least then he wouldn’t have to endure all this agony. even though this was surely the worst hit anyone had landed on him during his extensive career, you could tell that wasn’t the hardest part for him.

his eyes stay glued to the skies, refusing to even acknowledge you or luffy. his irises gloss over and tears well up on his waterline. there could only be one thing on his mind, the one thing you knew he was truly passionate about; his promise. was he afraid he had let down that nameless person he always spoke of? that he had failed as a swordsman?

for some reason, you want to cry with him.

“you did good,” you whisper without a second thought. “just stay awake, okay?”

luffy nods in agreement, hand coming to grip zoro’s shoulder so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“monkey d. luffy,” calls mihawk, shifting everyone’s attention back to him. “what is your goal?”

your captain nearly growls. “i’m going to be the king of the pirates.”

luffy’s response could seem rehearsed. mechanical, even. but the truth is he just meant it that much. his conviction was unmatched in every possible way.

“king of the pirates, eh?” repeats mihawk. there’s a hint of amusement in his tone. however, he wasn’t mocking luffy, as many people tend to do when they hear of his dream. “that is a much more treacherous path than defeating even me.”

luffy whips around to fix mihawk with a stern glare. “i don’t care. it’s what i’m going to do.”

“maybe you will at that,” muses the bearded swordsman. “this world could use a few more wild cards.”

their odd exchange ends there, leaving an unnerving silence. the sound of your choked back sobs getting caught in your throat and waves splashing against the deck is all there is for a moment.

“why the tears, girl?” mihawk inquires.

you can’t bear to look at him, much less respond. not after what he’d done to zoro. your hands that once rested reassuringly on your crewmate’s stomach now ball into fists. how could he behave so nonchalantly when he had injured zoro within an inch of his life?

“seems like you aren’t as plucky as the rest of your crew, hm?” mihawk comments when his question is met with silence.

hot tears of frustration roll down your cheeks. “get lost. you’ve done enough damage, haven’t you?”

“that would be incorrect. i was tasked with retrieving your captain for the marines. as you can see, i have yet to do that.”

“i couldn’t care less about what you came here for,” you tell him between gritted teeth. “how do you have the nerve to stand there and talk down to us after what you did to him?”

mihawk’s head tilts to the side as he observes you. pensively, he murmurs, “you care for him.”

“of course we care for him, he’s our crewmate!” luffy shouts in response, clearly missing the true meaning behind the words.

on the other hand, you opt to stay silent, slightly embarrassed about how quickly mihawk was able to catch on to you. were your feelings really that easy to see through? almost as if confirming your concern, mihawk coughs out a dry chuckle before his face falls stoic once more.

“look after him.” his gaze lingers on you when he says that. “it is too soon for him to die. roronoa zoro, grow strong and come find me. i’ll be waiting.”

with that, mihawk makes his exit. once the coast is clear, usopp and nami finally come scurrying over. the marksman kneels down on zoro’s left while the latter stays standing, almost too afraid to get close.

“he’s losing so much blood,” usopp notes, voice unsteady.

luffy is quick to shut down the true implication behind those words. “he’s going to be okay.”

a strangled groan escapes the green-haired swordsman in question. the four of you freeze. the moment feels eerily similar to when you watched him collapse after mihawk had struck him down. for the second time in a day, zoro has all of you holding your breath in anticipation.

“if i—” he swallows hard, eyes still shiny and looking upward. “—fail to become the world’s greatest swordsman... you’ll be disappointed. right?”

luffy’s gaze softens. “you could never fail me.”

however, your captain’s sincere words don’t seem to be enough. zoro finally rips his gaze away from the clouds, head lolling to the side to face you instead. those wide eyes of his always held so much intensity, so much emotion. now is no different as he meets your stare, seemingly in search of your reassurance as well.

it wasn’t that you were unsure of what to say but how to say it. you didn’t trust yourself to speak your mind and say what you truly thought of zoro. the last thing you needed was your feelings for him slipping out at a time like this. you decide to play it safe and just nod. “you know i feel the same way. we all do.”

“i need… to hear you say it,” he replies, voice cracking.

your heartbeat gets caught in your throat at the utter desperation in zoro’s voice. it sounded as if he truly needed your approval if he was going to survive this. it was unlike him to get hung up on something so trivial such as someone’s opinion of him. he never seemed to care what other people thought, why was he starting now? and with you, of all people?

before you can question it any further, zoro hisses. the pain causes his entire body to tense and his wound spurts fresh crimson. without thinking, your hand comes up to rest reassuringly on his cheek. automatically, your thumb begins rubbing soothing circles on the skin. he’s hot to the touch and slick with sweat but you don’t mind it. the way his body relaxes itself is all you care about. well, that and the way he leans into your touch. for someone who rejected physical contact at every given chance, this was new but very, very welcome.

the emotion of it all causes you to lose any concern you’d previously had over voicing your thoughts about zoro. you can’t help but give him the response he was begging for, regardless of how smitten you sounded.

“zoro, you’re the best i’ve seen. and i don’t just mean with your swords. no defeat could ever take away what you have, you know that right? almost everyday i ask myself what the hell i’m doing on the same crew as someone like you. you don’t understand how much it pains me knowing that you feel the need to prove your worth when clearly you’re the greatest there is. in every way. so, how could i ever be disappointed in you?”

there’s a few moments of silence. this time, you truly don’t hear a thing. not the waves, not the birds in the sky, not even the thumping of your own heartbeat. your brain has blocked out everything that isn’t zoro. the same zoro who’s breaking down into tears right in front of you. it’s an unbelievable sight, watching them stream down his face as he takes in everything you’d just said.

using what little strength he has left, zoro lifts a shaky hand to rest atop yours. you pause your ministrations on his cheek and let him intertwine his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand so tightly that you’re positive it takes everything in him to do so.

“never… again,” he chokes out, tearful eyes meeting yours. “from now, until i beat him.” he uses his left hand to unsheathe his sword. he lifts it to the sky with purpose, as if to solidify this vow. “will i ever give you a reason to be disappointed in me. i, roronoa zoro, will never lose again!”

his grip becomes unsteady, causing his sword to fall from his grasp and clatter on the ground. his arm falls back to his side and he’s able to give you one last look before he’s out cold.

“zoro?” luffy calls, leaning forward. “zoro?!”

you suck in a shaky breath at the feeling of his hand going limp. you’re grateful he’s still breathing at the very least but it’s clear he needs medical attention fast.

“let’s get him inside,” nami commands. it’s the first thing she’s worked up the courage to say.

luffy and usopp waste no time shifting zoro’s arms over their shoulders while you and nami take his legs. despite your joint efforts, the four of you struggle to drag zoro off the baratie; you blame his rigorous training that had made him all muscle. usually you wouldn’t complain but it sure made carrying him aboard the going merry a difficult task. at last, he’s dumped onto the table in your makeshift kitchen.

“get the first aid kit,” nami demands, opening zoro’s shirt to inspect the severity of his wound.

“do we even have one?” usopp replies as he shifts around every cupboard and drawer on the ship.

“zoro… can you hear me?” luffy’s quiet voice gets lost in the commotion your two other crew mates are creating. but you take notice.

“he’s going to be alright,” you tell him. whether you say it for luffy or yourself, you aren’t certain.

“someone needs to go back to baratie,” nami sighs, running a hand through her ginger locks. “maybe one of the customers is a ship’s doctor.”

the devil fruit user blinks a couple times. “right. a doctor. we need a doctor.” he sprints out of the kitchen, presumably in search of one.

once your captain’s gone, nami aids usopp in scouring the kitchen, in search of anything that could potentially help your crew mate until he’s able to receive the proper medical attention.

you decide to stay right by zoro’s side. not once do you leave him.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #opla zoro x reader #one piece x reader #opla x reader #zoro imagine #zoro fluff #zoro angst

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worldlxvlys · 5 months

Note

I have a request, if you’re taking them

can you do a dwb!Matt where reader relapses badly, and he has to help her through her withdrawals

if not that’s totally cool, but I’m a sucker for angsts so I thought I’d ask

help you

dealer! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, drug addiction/ withdrawals, mentions of nausea, cursing

a/n -> please read with caution !!

i love you all and my dms are always open if you need to talk <33

MATT’S POV

“i’m fine, matt” she said for what had to be the millionth time.

she smacked my hand away with her own, while she attempted to pour water into a cup with her free one.

her hands were so shaky, she could barely get any of it in the cup. she let out a frustrated sigh, setting the pitcher down onto the counter.

“here” i spoke as i poured the water for her, handing her the glass.

“you hungry?” i asked as i grabbed a paper towel, cleaning up the spill.

“no” she spoke, moving her arm to her forehead to wipe the sweat that began to accumulate.

“when’s the last time you ate something?” i asked her.

“can we turn down the heat?” she asked, continuing to wipe her sweaty skin.

“the heat isn’t on, here” i spoke as i grabbed a washcloth, soaking it in cool water. i folded the washcloth in half, guiding her to sit down on the couch.

she placed the washcloth on her forehead, laying her head back with a sigh.

“is there anything you actually want to eat?” i asked, moving back towards her refrigerator. i was aware that she didn’t have an appetite, but she hadn’t eaten all day long.

“no, matt. i just don’t want to feel like this, i wanna go back to normal” she replied. “how long is this gonna last ? i don’t think i can take much more of this”

“hey, it’s ok. i’m gonna help you through this” i spoke as i made my way back to her, a granola bar in hand.

“no, you don’t get it. i feel like i’m dying, matt. my entire body aches, the thought of food makes me nauseous, i’m covered in sweat, and i’ve never felt weaker in my life. you wanna help? let me take something, anything. please, i need it matt” she looked at me with her eyes slightly widened, clutching onto my shirt.

i’d never seen her look so helpless.

“you know i can’t do that, baby” i spoke, grabbing her hand. “i’m gonna run you a bath, ok? how hot do you want the water?” i asked her.

“a bath isn’t gonna do shit, matt. you know what i need. let me take something or leave me alone”

“i’m trying to help you-” i started, quickly being cut off, “help me? you did this to me. this is your fault. tell me, what do you think happens when you sell drugs to people? do you know how many people you’ve made just like me? you’re no saint, matt. you’re actively helping people ruin their lives”

she didn’t mean it. of course, she didn’t . she’d say anything to get her fix. but that didn’t make her words hurt any less.

she wasn’t telling me anything i hadn’t told myself before. and i hated that i let her end up like this. she was right, this was my fault.

i should’ve done a better job at protecting her, at keeping her safe. i couldn’t do anything about failing in the past, but i damn sure could prevent it from happening in the future.

“you’re right, this is my fault. but letting you erase your progress now would only end up hurting you more in the long run. the only way i can help you is by being here for you. so you can yell at me, be mad at me, be annoyed with me, i don’t care. i’m not going anywhere, okay?”

instead of saying anything she just blinked up at me, nodding her head gently.

“now, how hot do you want your bath water?”

dwb! matt masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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astonmartingf · 6 months

Text

FALLING FOR YOU ; MV1

max verstappen x reader

. . . in his own little way, max finds the solutions to his problems not without a little help from his friends and ends up giving you the confession of a lifetime

amgf yeah... there's this, just fluff. i won't be as active this week because of exams and research but this is prime time of my impulsive ideas so either i can milk this opportunity to write every single day, or avoid this app for the remainder of the week. enjoy 👍

Max strives for stability.

He enjoys the same routine that consists of jogging at eight am, early morning workout by nine am, brunch, a few rounds of sim racing, stopping by for a few phone calls and online meetings. If he isn’t expected to fly anywhere else he’d have his usual afternoon snack, play with his cats, more sim racing from six to eight pm, dinner with his team, reviewing data and notes, an hour for his own leisure— mostly sim racing, before heading to bed at one am.

Whatever happens in between is usually one of Lando’s plans in an attempt to spice things up in his life. Whether it’s going to the movies, buying ice cream at the convenience store down the street, or playing padel. Max is very much thankful for his friends.

Max also strives for the best.

He takes pride in his skills in racing and acknowledges his talent, and flaws. Honing them like a sharp knife through whetstones, he polishes himself and cuts through the defenses of the grid. He is a World Champion for a reason, and with a great car and team behind him, he knows they’ll get far. Max is very much thankful for the trust his team set upon him.

Max hates uncertainty.

Well- hate is too strong of a word and dislike would be too weak for his opinions.

Max despises uncertainty.

Especially when there’s you- the current root of all his “problems”. Despite his tendency to be blunt and straightforward statements, uncertainty always left a distasteful feeling in his mouth.

Realizing that his wavering feelings for you have now shattered the routine he built to perfection. Long gone are sleeping on time and hello to staying up with you crowding his thoughts. Head full of the lingering scent of your perfume and the same voice playing in his head.

Max hated it. He despised how you orbit around his mind, bouncing through the walls of the gray matter inside his skull. He often catches himself smiling at the thought of you- before a bitter scowl fills his face and an incredulous and slightly constipated look pasted on his face.

But that was the least of his worries, such feelings could be fixed (a term he used to convince himself these are temporary). It’s not that Max doesn’t believe in relationships or think it’s nothing but a distraction, deep inside he’s aware that he craves affection. It’s the vague emotions clouding his heart making him think twice.

Then again, Max is thankful for his friends.

“What did you say?” Lando squinted his eyes in the hopes to hear his words clearly. With a blank look- almost as if he put on a mask void of emotions Max spoke once more.

“Do I like YN?”

The rest tilted their head to the side, in confusion. “D-did you perhaps ask us. . . if- if you like someone?” George, asked once more to make sure of his words, sighing in disbelief.

“It’s not just someone, it’s YN.” Max pushed the question once more and glanced at everyone on the table.

The silence was deafening. Max’ statement was too loud and too quiet at the same time, no one spoke and they left each other contemplating on the next words he will say.

“I need help. How do I know I like YN?” Collective gasps were heard throughout and one by one they slowly left the group of friends on the table leaving Max with Lando and George.

“How about we sleep over your question and. . .think— think about it you know?” Lando, the first to talk regarding the revelation that their stoic friend has now developed feelings for someone.

“Sleep? I hardly get any sleep these nights. I want to confirm my feelings now so I can finally sleep peacefully.”

That’s when the pair noticed the bags under his eyes, mostly due to the lack of sleep like he said. Lando took a glance at George and started to talk telepathically at each other.

George sighs before pushing Max from his seat, “You see Max these feelings can’t be confirmed in a night, these requ-”

“It’s been weeks, George, I can’t lose sleep over such a trivial matter.” Max retorted with a firm stance using his lack of sleep as a front to confirm his feelings.

“Okay, first of all feelings are not a trivial matter. They are valid, and whatever is going on in your head about YN shouldn’t be taken lightly. Not because we’re curious but because we care about your emotional well being.” Lando spoke in a serious voice which only added on to Max’ confusion.

Feelings are not a big deal, at least not for him.

“And we're curious as to why you like YN.” George chimed as he followed the pair outside the room.

“Yes we’re curious but now how about I give you some romance books that you can study and read. Only you can confirm your feelings Max, let’s stop by my room and I’ll give you books you can read and next week- next week we’ll talk about this matter again.”

Lando now sounds like a mom scolding his child for misbehaving, dragging the latter to his room and sending him off with a tower of romance books.

Max is smart, he can understand such concepts by himself.

Feeling accomplished, Lando glanced at George smirking at him before walking away with Max to his apartment.

Max on the other hand went inside his room and began to bury himself in the books he brought along. “If I’m not sleeping at least I get my feelings in line.”

One chapter. And another turns to five and in the blink of an eye a week has passed. Max returned to his routine but instead of sleeping at one he pushed it to an even later hour to make time for reading which helped him sleep.

The first nights were hard, after finishing a chapter of the book he finds himself falling asleep and now you appear to become more vivid in his mind. Invading his dreams as romantic scenarios play on repeat while Max mindlessly sleeps which results in him waking up flustered and warm.

Passing by you on the paddock became frequent; it's as if the universe has its way to bring you together. Now everywhere Max looked there was you, in the corner of his sight you occupied a chunk of his thoughts and as much as he hated to admit he found himself anticipating your presence.

By the end of the week you managed to invade his thoughts and heart which only strengthened his theory and confirmed his feelings for you. With no time to waste, Max went to look for you. The second practice was over, he’s telling you what you’re doing to him.

With new found information from the team about your whereabouts, Max made his way to the hospitality locating where you’re assigned he opens the door abruptly to see you preparing food. You stand straight feeling the intimidating aura around him, you watch him exhale a sigh of relief before talking a large step in your direction. On instinct you back away giving him space, every step Max takes is a step backward from you.

Unknowingly your feet hit the corner of the marble countertop and like a cliché scene Max remembers from the books he’s been reading you stumble backwards.

Max is a racer for a reason, and with swift reflexes he managed to catch your fall and brought you up to your feet. “You should watch where you’re going. I don’t want you falling just like how I fell for you.”

Silence. Complete, utter silence from the both of you paired with the low buzz of the booming air conditioner right near you. You blink your eyes incredulously, “What?”

“I mean. . . I do want you to fall for me, it would be sad to find out that my feelings are one-sided. But I mean my words YN.”

You adjust your posture and back away. “What are the words Max? About me falling to the ground or you. . . you f- falling for me?” Your voice thins out at the end unsure of what you just heard.

“Both. I don’t want you to fall, it’s dangerous just like how you did to me. You enamored me with those charms, I just want to know how you did it.” Max spoke with the most bored and plain looking face he could muster up. His palms were sweating inside his pockets in extreme nervousness.

“Is this- is this your confession perhaps?” You try to piece things together, like the subtle clues Lando and George have been leaving out of nowhere.

“Yes. This is my confession.” Max blurts out as sweat drips from the side of his forehead. And just as he was losing hope from this failed confession your bubbly laugh bursts the silence in the air.

“You know, you need to work on your confession more. That was unlike any other, but I understand what you mean. Do you want me to fall for you, Maxie?”

Max stares at you and you don't miss the soft gaze he set upon you. You note the light blush spread around the apples of his cheeks as his eyes light up the moment you called his name. The once awkward silent air was now filled with a warm feeling that spread all over your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin.

“I do. I fell for you, I like you, and I want to mean something to you.”

His way with words caught you off guard, Max Verstappen, who would’ve thought. You smile at him, this time it’s you walking towards his direction.

Max stiffened at the proximity between the two of you, his feet stuck to the floor preventing him from backing away. Your face gets closer to his and all the thoughts clouding his mind have been wiped away.

You face him and whisper something in his ear before walking away towards the kitchen at the back, legs shaking and breaths heavy.

Taking a moment to himself Max meditates in an attempt to calm his bouncing heart, legs shaking as if they ran a hundred miles, and his mind whirring into different ideas and possibilities.

Max never falls- literally and figuratively.

Yet you managed to be the root of all his problems. The person who made him fall, there was no doubt that Max fell and will still be falling for you.

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

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maxislvt · 1 year

Text

Succubus Season

pairing(s): succubus! wanda maximoff x reader, brief natasha romanoff x reader

summary: Just when your life starts to come together, life throws another curve ball at you. Except this time it isn't a bully or a shitty English teacher. This curve ball is seven feet tall with horns and a lot of pent-up sexual energy.

warnings: jealousy, possessive thoughts/behavior, AMAB!Reader, dom!Wanda, sub!Reader, anal sex, anal fingering, prostate milking, overstimulation, cum eating, size kink (she's 7 feet tall)

a/n: Idk this is a tad self indulgent but it's Fine because it's sexy

Event Masterlist

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Adulthood came with many struggles. You made it through high school, your poor budgeting habits, and you're currently pushing your way through medical school. It wasn't easy, but your determination and pride got you through it. Now you were one step further into adulthood by owning a house. No more roommates or weird landlords. Just your own space with no one else in it.

However, you hit an unexpected bump in the road.

Moving in seemed harder than doing all the paperwork. At first, you blamed it on how far you were moving. Some of your friends were kind enough to drive anywhere from 2 to 15 hours to help you move. It was possible they were tired and didn't consider how strenuous moving was. Then things got a little bit odd. You couldn't leave a room unattended for more than half an hour without someone getting some sort of freak injury. Luckily it was nothing worse than little cuts or bruises.

Oddly, fixing up the garage proved to be the hardest part. Bucky got sent to the hospital over a spider bite. Steve's asthma suddenly kicked up — though part of that was his fault considering everyone told him it'd be a bad idea to clean a dusty room without an inhaler. A lot of them had been overcome with mysterious illnesses and your team was getting smaller and smaller.

Eventually, it was down to just you and Tony.

All that was left to do was fix your janky garage door and the god-awful cabinets. It should've been a simple job. Replacing a few doors and fixing up some gears. Unfortunately, it turned out to be nearly impossible.

"God, this stupid fucking drill." You grumbled while trying to loosen the screws holding the cabinet door together. Tool malfunctions were another thing hindering your progress. One toolbox to fix the whole house wasn't entirely effective, but the finicky handles and rather disagreeable drill bits weren't making it any better. "Son of a bitch, these cabinet doors are hideous anyways!" After another failed attempt at removing the screw, you slam the tool on the countertop with a frustrated grunt. You slammed it a bit too hard against the counter because the sound shook the whole garage.

The old gears in your garage door creaked and shook before suddenly turning to drop the door.

"Tony, look out!" You shouted before running over to catch the door. The metal door slammed down hard on your shoulder blades. "Ah, shit!" You hissed out. It took all your strength to push the door back up. "Fuck, are you okay?" You asked Tony while rubbing your bruising shoulder blades.

Tony stared up at the garage door before getting up. He anxiously cleared his throat. "Well, if that doesn't open my eyes to my old age, I don't know what will." His shaky hands smooth out his shirt before grabbing his tools. "Yeah kid, I think I'm gonna call it a day after that." An unusually shaky sigh fell from his lips as he hugged you.

You looked up at the garage door. It needed to be fixed, but nothing physical was worth the life of a friend. "Um..yeah you do that. I'll just fix it my-"

"Don't do that," Tony interrupted, knowing your history with home repair.

A grimace overtook your features, but you knew Tony was right. "Okay, I won't fix it myself. I'll try and find some company to do it." You patted Tony on the back. He wasn’t the most tan friend you had, but you'd never seen him so pale before. "We should get you a drink before letting you head home."

With that, you were down to just yourself.

Your shoulders were in too much pain for you to keep working so you called it a day. Eight o'clock was a bit early for you, but you were much too shaky to do anything else. After a quick shower and some pain cream on your shoulder blades, you called it a day. Pain and warm water turned out to be the perfect combination for sleep.

"Release me…"

You shot up and immediately looked around the room. No one else was in your room. You weren't sure if it was real, but there were goosebumps on your skin and the hairs on your neck wouldn't lay down. As scary as it was, you decided you must've left the TV on up front and ignored it.

The next morning you're a bit jarred but ready to spend the weekend cleaning.

You looked around the garage to see what you had left to do. The garage door was off-limits and you were beyond frustrated with the cabinets in there. Just when you thought it'd be a simple work day, you noticed a hatch on the roof. Odd, you don't remember there being an attic on the room list when you bought the house.

You shrugged and jumped up to bring down the step ladder. The creaking underneath your feet meant it was time for the wood to be replaced, but you decided to prioritize exploration. Which turned out not to be the best idea.

"What the fuck!?" The words slipped out before you could even think. You looked around the attic. Chalk lines drawn out to make a magical symbol that you weren't even going to pretend you understood. There were more symbols carved into the wall. In the middle of it all, there was a small table. You weren't crazy enough to step towards it but you could see a jar filled with some mysterious liquid surrounded by other magical trinkets you didn't want to touch. "...Well, I guess that's what I get for buying a three-bedroom house for less than 100,000," You whispered as you climbed down the ladder.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Now that you were terrified of your garage, you decided to focus on the less haunted part of your house.

It was a pain in the ass to move furniture and boxes by yourself, but better than a bunch of mysterious dead friends. After about a month or so, you were finally satisfied with the state of your house. The once barren walls were now filled with photographs and pairings. Long gone was the feeling of emptiness. It was your space now.

"Let me out, detka, please."

Oh, and the space of whatever freaky demon that was occupying that jar in your attic. Ignoring it was becoming harder. What started as the occasional whisper in your sleep turned into uncomfortably realistic wet dreams and a lot of ruined underwear. Now you could feel it hovering over you.

Tonight was the worst of it. Sensual kisses along the column of your neck pulled you in and out of sleep. Its hands were abnormally adventurous too. A less sleep-deprived version of yourself would've questioned the kisses on your neck, but your lack of sleep had left you a tiny bit delusional. One particular rough kiss finally woke you up properly.

The pain made you jolt up. "Fuck, you're having fun with this." You whisper despite the fact you're not sure it was listening. Your sleep shorts are stained with precum and you're painfully erect. A heavy sigh fell from your lips. "God, I hope you don't turn out to be some evil murder demon." The walk to your garage felt incredibly long. Each step added to the knot in your stomach. It was a miracle you didn't vomit by the time you stood underneath the hatch.

Your body moved as if it weren't your own. Awkward and clunky, but desperate to reach a goal you weren't too keen on. Once the ladder dropped back down your fate was sealed. You climbed up into the attic and stumbled towards the table.

For a moment just looked at the jar. Then you started laughing. "God, I am losing my mind. What is this stuff anyways, some disgusting old jam?" You scuffed with unwarranted confidence as you opened the jar.

It was not jam. Nor was it jelly or some other kind of preserve.

It was a seven-foot-tall demon. She had tinted red skin and two sets of horns sticking out of her head. You could see serrated teeth and an uncomfortably long tongue behind plum lips. You couldn't see them since they were above your head and you weren't going to risk looking away from it, but you could tell that it had claws.

The only thing keeping you from screaming your head off was not wanting to deal with a noise complaint in the morning.

"So um, can you put in on rent or are you just gonna bum out in my attic?"

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Wanda lived on Earth for thousands of years and never had she met a human more determined than you were. At first, she blamed your disinterest on her demonic form, but not even her human form could take your eyes off whatever project had taken up your time. Your focus was admirable, but Wanda was starting to get hungry.

So she decided to be more upfront about her needs.

Today, the only thing between her and a proper meal was a book. One you'd been reading for nearly an hour, but it was easier to take your attention away from that than it was from work.

Wanda laid down on your stomach and looked up at you with the softest, most desperate eyes she could muster. "I know this might come off as too much, but I'm really hungry...I just need a little something to get me through the day." Her eyes carefully watched your facial expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down.

"Oh, you must be starving."

Wanda was expecting a more sympathetic tone, but you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You quickly marked your page in the book and laid it down on the coffee table. "Wait right here, I'll make you something good." Part of you felt like one of those evil landlords on Reddit. You were making her pay rent but she didn't feel comfortable eating. "I have some snacks in the cabinets if you're really hungry. Help yourself to whatever."

Her fingers twitch. It's not what she wanted, but she found herself tempted. "It's fine, I can wait," She whispered. Succubi shouldn't get nervous. Wanda's hands reached out and held your waist. The benefit of being a succubus is that Wanda knows you won't deny her. Her fingers slipped underneath your shirt just to feel the softness of your skin. "What are you cooking?"

The question confused Wanda. She'd never cared about a human beyond a desire to feed off of them, but you were different. She was desperate to know more about you. Wanda wanted you in a way that she'd never wanted a human before. Thoughts of jealousy began stirring in her heart. As her fingertips explored the softness of your skin.

It didn't take long for that desire to evolve into something more deviant. Wanda found herself hating the physical space between you and her. She found herself disappointed she couldn't be inside you. As adorable as human fragility was, she couldn't stand the fact she couldn't be closer. Wanda needed to be under your skin and next to your still-beating heart. A hoodie could only make up for that half the time.

It wouldn't be much longer before she'd have to feed from you. Only you.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It was embarrassing to admit as a succubus, but Wanda had officially gone multiple months without feeding from anyone. To rub salt in the wound, the one person she wanted to feed from seemingly had no issue sleeping around.

You were always talking up some girl and brought a new one home every other week. That was bad enough on its own, but you were always kind enough to make them breakfast or wash their clothes before sending them off. And once they were gone, you were right back by Wanda's side like nothing happened. Like you didn't just manage to play with the feelings of a succubus and send her into a jealous spiral.

Your latest adventure seemed to get under her skin like no one else before. This mysterious redhead had done quite a number on you. Dark red and purple bruises littered your neck and shoulders and you could barely stand upright. If you hadn't bashfully shooed her away, Wanda wouldn't have had a problem helping. Of course, your little fling was there to save the day.

"I didn't think you'd be able to walk after all that," The woman said with an amused tone. She sauntered up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Her chin rested on top of your head. "You sure you don't want me to finish those up for you? I'm a little worried you're gonna collapse on me."

You squirmed in Natasha's grasp as her fingers traced along the top of your waistband. "Y-yeah, it's fine Natasha. Just go watch TV or something…" The blush on your face is almost hot enough to cook the eggs. You don't even remember the last time someone made you this bashful. It was new. "I appreciate your offer though," You mumbled, unsure how to carry on the conversation.

"You're still shy even after last night?" Natasha asked teasingly. Her fingertips slipped into your boxers but didn't move much further past the waistband. She pushed her hips against your ass just enough for you to feel the pressure. "I think I like being right here, just like this." She whispered into your ear. Her eyes looked off to the side with a knowing smirk.

The whole scene made Wanda sick with jealousy. Her stomach churned every time you laughed at one of Natasha's jokes. Succubus couldn't throw up, but she. would've already. You were hers even if you didn't know it yet.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You felt like you were going mad.

It was getting harder to suppress your attraction to Wanda. You wish you could blame it on her interest in human clothes or all the cuddling, but neither of those was the problem. It was all your perverted tendencies. Every time Wanda crossed your mind it was always something sexual. These thoughts weren't brief either. Once you started one of your sick little fantasies, it was hard to stop. You were washing 20 pairs of underwear a week with how much precum you were leaving.

Your growing relationship with the demon only made things more complicated. Wanda seemed to become more physically affectionate by the day. Her human form was cute but it was her natural form that seemed to be giving you the most trouble. The shock of meeting a demon for the first time had worn off and you began to notice the small details. If your dick would appreciate them as well.

The only thing it seemed to care about was how big Wanda was. Especially when she was using you as her body pillow. The softness of her breast pressed against your chest and it was driving you mad. You were so focused on not getting a boner that you completely drowned out the noise from the movie.

As fun as watching you squirm and wiggle, Wanda had waited long enough.

She sat up on your lap, straddling your hips with her thighs. Wanda's hand slipped underneath your shirt to keep you pinned to the couch. Her claws lightly scratched at the sensitive skin. "It's cute you think I can't tell how turned on you are right now." A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips as you sucked your breath. "Don't think I haven't heard all those nasty little thoughts in your heads."

Your eyes followed Wanda's fingers nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me!" She toyed with the hem of your shorts. You were at a loss for words. It wasn't like you could deny your feelings with your dick hard as a rock. “I know we’re like roommates, but we don’t have to do anything!” Embarrassment wasn't good enough to describe how you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Wanda ripped off your shorts in one swift motion. “Oh detka, I want to be something more than just roommates.” Her long tongue licked the precum oozing from your neglected tip. It left a savory taste in her mouth that she couldn't help but enjoy. “God you don’t know how hard it was to live knowing you were wasting this stuff on girls who couldn’t make you feel half as good as I do.” Her free hand massaged your balls as she took your length inside her mouth. They weren’t as full as she would’ve liked them to be, but Wanda knew she would have access to them whenever she wanted them. Self-control was quickly flying out the window. Her hunger was starting to take over and she no longer had it in her to go slow for your sake. Wanda needed your cum and she needed a lot of it. “Do you know the best part of having sex with a succubus?”

The pleasure alone had your head spinning. “W-what?” It wasn’t a response to her question, but rather a moment of shock at Wanda’s confession. You weren’t well versed in the land of demons, but you didn’t think Wanda was anything like that. Was she gonna eat you? Maybe you should’ve asked more questions rather than worrying about her paying rent.

Her hand wrapped around your dick and began stroking slowly. She leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I know exactly how to fuck you senseless.” Wanda hooked your legs over her shoulders. This time, Wanda's tongue went straight for your asshole. She watched your eyes roll to the back of your head with a satisfied smirk. No one's ever fucked you this way. It's almost impossible for her tongue fuck you the way she'd like but your whining makes up for it.

You're a mess. It felt like your insides were melting, but you were too overstimulated to even consider pushing back. You were usually the one on top and doing all the teasing. Now it was near impossible for you to speak without moaning and stumbling over your own words. "F-fuck, I'm close. Please don't stop, I'm gonna cum!" Your hands grabbed Wanda by her horns and pulled her closer to your ass.

Wanda hummed against you. You looked so cute when you were desperate to cum. She pushed your shirt up to your chest and signaled for you to hold it up. Of course, you do it without question. That mindless obedience would get you far. Wanda's tongue pressed down against your prostate. Milking you was a bit much for your first time doing anal, but Wanda wasn't going to hold back.

You couldn't even speak. It was just a string of desperate moans in place of words. The knot in your stomach bubbled up and snapped suddenly. Cum shot out of you in sticky, hot ropes. Your orgasm was almost never ending. Every time you thought it was over, she'd keep pushing you.

Wanda kept milking you until you'd gone soft. Her tongue slipped out of your hole. She wasted no time licking up the cum dripping down your chest and stomach. A deep, guttural moan escaped her lips at the taste of your cum. Her eyes glowed a deep red for a brief second. Wanda looked into your eyes and smirked. "I never want to see you with anyone else. Got it?"

You looked into her eyes and suddenly felt so tired. It was like a trance. There were a lot of questions going through your mind but you were too weak to ask any of them. "Got it." Was the only thing you could manage to say.

Wanda affectionately scratched your head. You were like a pet to her. "Let's get you cleaned up," She kissed your cheek before lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom.

You were grateful for her immense strength and gentleness. There was no way you'd be able to walk all the way to your room after that. You only vaguely heard Wanda's request that you not fall asleep while she prepared a bath for you. As tired as you were, there was something subconsciously urging you to stay awake as she requested. You rolled over slowly when Wanda returned from the bathroom. "Are you like…in my head forever now?" You asked sleepily.

Your question caught Wanda off guard. She didn't answer your question at first. Instead, she rolled you onto your stomach. It was only then that she had the answer to your question. "It appears so." She said calmly. Her fingers traced the tattoo now permanently etched into your skin. "Don't worry, I'll be kind to you..if you behave."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #Pluto's Halloween Bash 2023

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jobean12-blog · 8 months

Text

Helping Hands

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 704

Summary: Joel's working on fixing something that you'll love but as soon as you come to see what it is he gets distracted...in the best way.

Author's Note: This is just 700 words of pure indulgence because these small moments are everything for me and if I had Joel I wouldn't want his hands anywhere but on me all the time and I love when two people just can't get enough of each other and just the smallest touch is everything. Anyway hehe thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Soft and sweet fluffy fluff

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

“What are you working on?”

Joel’s head whips up at the sound of your voice and he blinks, clearly pulled from concentration.

“What’s that darlin’?” he asks, his attention now completely focused on you.

His gaze wanders slowly down your body and he leans back in the chair, smoothing his large hands over his spread thighs.

With a gentle smile you walk to the table and lean your hip against the edge.

“I was wondering what you were up to.”

“Oh,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I found this old record player and I was going to try to get it to work again but it’s a mess.”

Your face brightens at the thought of hearing music.

“I know,” he says with understanding. “I’ll do my best.”

You lean in and kiss his scruffy cheek and with your lips still pressed to his skin he turns his head and finds your mouth, whispering softly, “wanna help?”

“Me?” you ask as you pull away slightly. “Are you sure? I have no idea how to use tools or anything.”

Laugh lines appear around his eyes and then he pats his big, thick thigh.

“Get over here.”

You drag your teeth over your bottom lip and move around him to climb onto his thigh. You can feel the rough material of his jeans on your skin and every flex of his muscle.

With a shaky inhale you scoot back and get comfortable.

He wraps his left arm around your waist and secures you against his chest.

“Ok hold this,” he instructs before pointing to the needle on the record player.

He then grabs the screw driver and begins unscrewing something with his right hand. When it pops off he sets it down and studies the machine.

“Hmm…” he muses. “We might need parts…good thing I have this old thing.”

He leans forward to grab the old radio on the table. The warmth and weight of his body is so welcoming that you let out a contented sigh and snuggle closer.

“Where did you get that?” you ask, turning your head to find him only a breath away, his dark brown eyes trained on your mouth.

The arm wrapped around your belly flexes and his large hand splays along your skin.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” you murmur. “I want this thing fixed.”

“Thought that’s what we were doin’ angel,” he smirks.

“If you keep this up it’ll never get fixed.”

“Keep what up?” he asks with feigned innocence even as his hand slowly slides along the curve of your body.

You melt against him as warmth spreads across your skin.

“Joel,” you breathe out.

“It’ll get fixed darlin’…but it’s hard to concentrate now.”

“Well that’s your fault,” you whisper. “You asked for help.”

His calloused fingertips ghost over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then find your neck, trailing along the delicate skin until he’s pressing them under your chin and tilting your face closer.

“Joel,” you hum with one last weak attempted warning as your eyelids flutter closed.

“Hm?” he grunts as he brushes his lips to yours.

“Thought you wanted help.”

He pulls back and traces his thumb over your lips.

“This is helping.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck and wraps around it before he tugs you down to his mouth.

Your own hand smooths up and over his chest and your fingers curl into his hair, giving it a sharp tug.

“Angel,” he growls.

He stands in one swift motion and takes you with him, gently letting you slide down his body until your feet hit the ground, his mouth still on yours.

With sure steps he walks you backward toward the wall and pins you there with his large frame.

You let out a moan of his name and reach your fingers under his shirt to feel his skin.

He rests his hands on either side of your face, sweeping his thumbs softly over your closed eyes.

“I promise,” he starts on a murmur before kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ll get it fixed.”

His lips are just a breath away, his nose lightly brushing yours…” just need you first darlin.’ Please.”

@lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us

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dovesdreaming · 5 days

Text

At his worst

Summary: Reader stays by Logan during his worst and is unable to be pushed away by him

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: negative self talk

The night was cold, unusually quiet for the dingy apartment Wolverine had holed himself up in. After all these years, Logan was used to the silence, comfortable with it even. But something was different tonight. His mind, normally sharp, was dulled by memories that felt like jagged knives cutting through his thoughts. Jean. Rogue. Charles. All the people he had failed. All the people he had lost. The city buzzed below, lights flickering against the darkness, but Logan didn’t care. He slumped against the couch, cradling a half-empty bottle of whiskey, his usual attempt to drown out the pain. But even alcohol couldn’t numb the guilt that weighed on him. He was a weapon designed to hurt, to destroy, and now it seemed like everyone close to him suffered the same fate. A quiet knock broke through the silence, so soft it might’ve gone unnoticed by anyone else, but not him. Logan’s senses were always on high alert. He sighed, part of him wanting to ignore it. He didn’t want company tonight, didn’t deserve it.

Another knock, a little louder this time. Persistent. “Logan?" A familiar voice called softly from the other side. Your voice. His chest tightened. You were the only person in his life now who didn’t seem to fear him. The only person who could look past the claws, the rage, the blood. Why? He could never figure it out. He didn’t deserve you. Heaving himself up, Logan tossed the whiskey bottle aside and trudged to the door. He didn’t bother with a shirt, his muscles tense beneath the scars that marked his body, a roadmap of violence. Opening the door, he looked down at you. You stood there, bundled in a jacket, worry etched on your face. “Hey” you said gently, eyes scanning his face like you could read everything going on inside. “Shouldn’t be here” Logan growled, his voice rough, hoarse. “Ain’t a good time”. You didn’t move. Instead, you tilted your head, eyes soft but unwavering. “When is a good time with you, Logan?”. That made him pause, and for a moment, he almost smirked. Almost. But he was too tired for that tonight. Instead, he stepped back, silently allowing you in.

You didn’t hesitate, walking past him and into the small apartment, your eyes trailing over the chaos. Half-eaten meals, broken furniture, and the unmistakable stench of whiskey lingering in the air. You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “You’ve been drinking”. Logan let out a low grunt, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. “What else is new?”. “You know, you don’t have to push me away every time things get bad” you said, your voice soft but firm. “You’re not alone, Logan”. A sharp laugh escaped him. “Ain’t that simple. People around me... they don’t stay for long. They get hurt. Or worse”.

You took a step closer, closing the space between you. “I’m not them. I’m not going anywhere”. Logan’s jaw tightened, the weight of your words pressing on him. He wanted to believe you, but he knew better. He’d seen it too many times, the look in people’s eyes when they realized just how dangerous he was. How broken. “You don’t know what you’re talking about” he said, the edge in his voice returning. “I’ve done things... terrible things. You don’t wanna see me at my worst”. But you didn’t flinch. You never did. Reaching out, you touched his arm, and for a second, Logan almost pulled away, afraid of your kindness, of the warmth in your touch. But he didn’t. “I’ve seen enough, Logan. I’ve seen you fight, seen the pain you carry. And guess what? I’m still here” you said, your voice unwavering. “Because I care. Because I know that, no matter how much you try to push people away, you deserve to be loved. You deserve to be understood”.

He shook his head, fists clenching at his sides. “I ain’t someone you can fix. I’m not someone who’s ever gonna be... whole”. You stepped even closer, eyes locking with his. “I’m not trying to fix you. I’m here to stay. I’ll take the good, the bad, and everything in between. Even when you’re at your worst”. Logan’s throat tightened, emotions bubbling up that he hadn’t let surface in years. He hated how vulnerable he felt right now, how exposed. But at the same time, there was a small part of him that wanted to believe you. That wanted to trust that you wouldn’t leave like the others.

“Why?” The word slipped out, raw and filled with the pain he had been holding back for so long. “Why would you stay?”. You smiled softly, your hand sliding down to take his, your fingers warm against his cold skin. “Because I see you, Logan. The real you. Not the weapon. Not the Wolverine. Just... you”. For the first time in what felt like forever, Logan didn’t know what to say, he had no comeback. His heart pounded in his chest, his walls crumbling down around him as he looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but honesty. No fear. No judgment. Just... acceptance. A shaky breath escaped him, and before he could stop himself, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. You didn’t resist, wrapping your arms around him, your head resting against his chest as you stood there in the middle of the mess, in the middle of his chaos.

For the first time in a long time, Logan felt something other than anger, other than pain. It was small, fragile even, but it was there. A flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be alone. Maybe, with you by his side, he didn’t have to be afraid of his worst anymore. And for the first time in a long time, Logan allowed himself to believe that.

Thank you for reading!

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vmlnrznotfound · 1 month

Note

OMG!! REQUESTS OPEN? hehe

Can I request the Chigiri + Kunigami version of "MY GIRL IS MAD AT ME, I HOPE I DIE." Series please? 🧎🏻‍♀️

I LOVE IT SO MUCH I'M GIGGLING EVERYTIME I READ IT FRFR xD

Also, have a good day 😌✨

[PART4] MY GIRL IS MAD AT ME, I HOPE I DIE.

characters: chigiri, kunigami, oliver, shidou, kurona, yukimiya

a/n: hi lovelies! here's your requests done<333

CHIGIRI HYOMA

hyoma stood by the door, his eyes focused on you as you sat on the couch, pointedly ignoring him. the silent treatment was in full effect, and it was eating at him.

he quietly walked over, sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “i know you’re mad,” he began softly, his voice gentle, “and i probably deserve this.”

you didn’t look at him, your attention fixed on the magazine in your hands. chigiri sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to reach you.

“i hate it when we’re like this,” he admitted, the usual confidence in his tone replaced by sincerity. “i know i messed up, but i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

you shifted slightly, but your eyes remained glued to the page. chigiri leaned in a little closer, careful not to crowd you. “i just want to fix this, to make things right again. i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to talk to me.”

still no response, but the tension in your posture seemed to ease ever so slightly. chigiri took a deep breath, willing to wait for however long you needed, because he cared too much to leave things as they were.

he stayed by your side, a silent promise that he wouldn’t give up on you.

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

you stood by the kitchen sink, your back to kunigami. the silence between you two was heavy, and you were determined to keep it that way. after all, he had been late—again—leaving you waiting in the rain. you weren’t ready to forgive him just yet.

kunigami stood in the doorway, his eyes on you. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, but you didn’t turn around.

he sighed, then walked up behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. you shrugged it off, still refusing to speak.

kunigami took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. he knew he’d messed up, but seeing you so distant hurt more than he expected.

he placed his hand on your shoulder again, this time with a bit more persistence. “please, just talk to me.”

you turned slowly to face him, your expression a mix of frustration and sadness. kunigami's eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice even softer. “i know i’ve been unreliable. i’m sorry for letting you down, and i don’t have an excuse. but i want to make it right. i’ll do whatever it takes to show you i can change.”

you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it made your resolve waver. so you silently opened your arms, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

OLIVER AIKU

you were mad—furious with your boyfriend. oliver aiku had pushed your buttons one too many times, and now you were giving him the silent treatment.

sitting on the edge of the bed, your eyes were glued to your phone, deliberately avoiding any acknowledgment of him. the room was thick with tension, and every second seemed to stretch longer than the last. oliver’s footsteps were hesitant as he approached, his presence nearly tangible in the quiet air.

he knelt down beside you, his posture a mixture of apology and desperation. his expression was earnest, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness. “come on, please,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet laced with the weight of his remorse. “i’m really sorry.”

you shifted your gaze, still not meeting his eyes. the silence between you was almost deafening. undeterred, oliver’s hands moved slowly, starting to massage your legs with a delicate touch.

his voice was a constant murmur of apologies, an attempt to bridge the gap you had so carefully maintained. “i know i messed up, but please, just give me a chance to make it right.”

his hands inched higher, their warmth gradually becoming more insistent. your patience waned, and finally, you placed your foot on his shoulder, gently pushing him away. “watch your hands,” you said, your tone sharp and frosty.

oliver’s face fell, a mixture of regret and determination reflecting in his eyes. he remained on the floor, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering resolve. “i’ll wait until you’re ready to talk,” he said softly, “but i’m not going anywhere.”

SHIDOU RYUSEI

shidou leaned against the doorframe, watching you flip through a magazine, pretending not to notice him. he walked over, plopped down beside you, and started chatting about a game-winning goal, but you stayed silent, focused on your magazine.

leaning closer, he rested his chin on your shoulder. “you’re really cute when you’re mad,” he murmured.

you shifted, trying to get comfortable.

“i could keep talking about how much i adore you,” he said, “but i’ll just stay here until you give in.”

minutes passed, and you closed the magazine with a snap. you moved to the other end of the couch and turned on the tv. shidou watched you, smiling.

“silent treatment, huh?” he said. “i’m sorry, okay? i messed up, and i’ll keep messing up because i’m human, but i can’t stand it when you’re mad at me like this.”

you glanced at him briefly, and he saw it as a small victory. he slid closer, closing the gap between you. “i know you’re stubborn, and you’ve got every right to be. but i’m not going anywhere. i’ll wait until you’re ready to talk to me again.”

you stayed silent, but there was a softness in your posture. shidou stayed close, content to wait. the tv droned on in the background as you both settled into a quiet peace.

KURONA RANZE

you’ve been ignoring kurona for the better part of the day, and he knows it. usually, you’d laugh at him or at least respond when he calls your name, but today? it’s different. he can feel it. so, naturally, kurona decides to pull out all the stops to get you to break your silence.

it starts with the little things. he brings you your favorite snack, placing it on the table next to you with a sheepish grin. but you don’t even glance his way. next, he tries to make fun of himself to get you to laugh—juggling random items he finds around the room, almost dropping one just to see if you’ll react. nothing. you stay focused on your book, or at least pretend to be.

kurona huffs, finally getting serious. he slips out of the room, mumbling something about needing fresh air.

when he comes back, he’s carrying something behind his back, his expression one of pure determination. he takes a deep breath and walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch, still glued to your phone.

he pulls out a giant shark plushie from behind his back. it’s soft and kind of goofy-looking. "shark shark," he says, grabbing your attention. "want to say sorry on my behalf,"

you try your best to ignore him, but kurona’s earnestness is too endearing.

“talk, talk,” he continues, wiggling the plushie closer to you.

you remain silent, but your resolve is starting to crack.

“he says he’s really sorry,” kurona persists, his tone now softer. “he didn’t mean to upset you, and he promises he’ll never do it again.”

YUKIMIYA KENYU

the kitchen smells like something went horribly wrong. yukimiya stands in the middle of the mess, looking at the charred remains of what was supposed to be your favorite dish. the counters are splattered with sauce, and the pan on the stove is emitting a thin wisp of smoke. he runs a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with guilt as he surveys the disaster.

he wanted to make it up to you, to do something special that would show how much he cared. but instead, he’s only made things worse.

you walk into the kitchen, your expression unreadable as you take in the scene. yukimiya freezes, eyes widening as you approach the counter. he watches as you grab a tissue, silently wiping at a particularly stubborn stain, your face void of emotion. the silent treatment you’ve been giving him continues, and it cuts deeper than any angry words ever could.

“hey,” yukimiya starts, his voice tentative, filled with regret. “i’m…i’m so sorry.”

you don’t acknowledge him. you just keep wiping the counter, your movements slow and deliberate, as if focusing on the task is the only thing keeping you from saying something you might regret.

“i’m sorry for messing up the kitchen,” he adds, trying to make you look at him, desperate for any sign that you’re willing to talk to him. “and...i’m sorry for everything else, too. i didn’t mean for things to go this way.”

but you remain silent. yukimiya’s heart sinks as he watches you finish wiping the counter. you set the crumpled tissue down and, without a word, turn to leave the kitchen. his chest tightens as he watches you go, feeling like he’s losing you all over again.

as you disappear into the hallway, heading towards your bedroom, yukimiya lets out a long sigh. he leans against the counter, staring at the mess he’s made, both in the kitchen and between the two of you. he’s about to start cleaning up when his phone buzzes with a notification.

pulling it out of his pocket, he sees a text from you. his breath catches in his throat as he reads it:

'dinner. your treat.'

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holylulusworld · 1 month

Text

Compensation (2)

Summary: No one messes with Walter Marshall.

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warning: angst, mentions of being attacked/attempted sexual assault, I mention the word rape, scared reader, injured reader, fluff

Compensation (1)

You’re rocking back and forth, trying to breathe right. The tears stopped falling hours ago. You ran out of them, you believe. But the dread and fear didn’t go away.

Walter Marshall. The most dangerous man you have ever heard of brought you to his home because the man he killed for you did more than invade your home. He trashed your whole apartment. There’s barely anything left of your belongings. Not even your clothes.

Nothing of your life is left. You can’t believe this man did all this only because you didn’t want him to rape you.

“How do you feel?” You swallow thickly when Walter steps inside the room. You don’t know what will happen now. All you know is that you can’t go home and that your boss killed a man for you not hours ago. “Did you sleep?”

He looks at the untouched food and sighs. You cringe, because he seems to be angry at you for not eating the food he offered to you. Walter points at the food, sighing deeply.

“You need to eat.” When he steps closer, you cower on the couch, looking anywhere but at your boss. “The doctor said you need to take the meds after you ate.”

You’d like to laugh about his motherly behavior. How can a man who killed another person act all sweet only hours later? “I wasn’t very hungry, sorry.”

“You say sorry a lot,” he points out. One brow cocked he looks at you. “Relax and stop holding your breath. Why are you so tense? You’re safe here with me. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

You whimper when Walter sits next to you. He tugs at the old sweater he offered to you, features softening.

“That man is dead,” you finally choke out. “You killed him because of me. I-I didn’t want you to. Why would you do such a thing?”

With teary eyes, you look at Walter. He sighs again, a little deeper this time. “Princes, no one hurts a woman on my watch. There are rules in this town. Rules I and all of my men follow. If you want to live in my town, you follow these rules too.”

“He was a guest,” you sniffle and wipe your wet eyes.

“Stop finding excuses for that piece of shit,” he murmurs and cups your chin with his large hands. You feel so small next to Walter it makes your heart beat out of your chest. “It doesn’t matter if he was only a guest in this town. A man should never do such a thing. It’s our honor to protect, not hurt a woman.”

You’d like to giggle at his serious expression. It’s the first time you heard a man say things like that. Your ex-boyfriend would love to disagree.

There is something in his eyes for a second. Disbelief? Disappointment? You don’t know. Maybe Walter is just used to people believing his every word.

“You don’t believe me,” he concludes. “I know it’s hard to believe that someone cares about you. Not after what that man did to you, and your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?” You question. “What do you know about my ex-boyfriend? I never mentioned him. What is going on?” You’re working yourself up and start to pant.

Walter brings you into his lap and wraps you in his arms. It feels odd, having your boss take care of you, but you cannot fight his embrace while struggling to breathe.

“Princess, relax. I won’t hurt you. Breathe for me. In and out,” he murmurs in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me. I know you can do it.”

“What—do you…” you choke the words out. “My ex—”

“I need to protect my business. I run a thorough background check for every new employee, Y/N. This has nothing to do with you. I saw the police report and the restraining order.”

You suck in a breath. “I should go home. Maybe I can fix my apartment or save a few things. There must be something left.”

“My men brought everything they could save to my place,” Walter softly speaks to you while running his hand up and down your back. “Your landlord didn’t want to listen when I told him it wasn’t your fault the man trashed your apartment. I have a nice guestroom for you. It has everything you’ll need.”

Walter doesn’t offer you to stay. He simply tells you that this will be your life now. Life under his control. You owe him after he killed a man for you. Still, you don’t know why he would do such a thing for a random maid.

For now, you can only give in to his demands.

“We should have dinner now. What do you like?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You got comfortable in his arms and even rested your head against his shoulder. Sleepily you blink your eyes open to lift your head and look at Walter.

After helping you sit on the sofa next to him, he gets his phone out. Walter barks orders into the phone, ordering food for the two of you. It doesn’t take long before you have a full plate stand in front of you. When Walter tells you to eat dinner, you’ll do it this time.

He watches you eat tiny bites, eyes never leaving your face.

He hums and takes are large bite of his steak. “Tastes good, huh?” He flashes you a smile, making you choke on your food. You never saw him smile before. This is not the stoic boss you know.

Rachel is fuming. She was forced to grab all the things left at your apartment instead of taking her usual spot next to Walter.

“Why are you wasting time on a maid?” She snaps at Walter. Rachel is one of the few people who are not afraid of Walter. She knows her worth. “Walter, you can’t get distracted while we are about to seal the deal of the century.”

Walter cocks a brow. He dips his head to look at Rachel. “What I do is none of your concern. She’s under my protection, live with it.”

“Why?” Rachel presses on. “You never cared much about your employees as long as they didn’t step out of line. What makes her different?”

“I don’t have to explain my reasons,” he growls at Rachel. She flinches for the first time since she started working for Walter. “If you don’t like my decisions, there is the door.” He points at the door. “I have more than enough bootlickers in my organization waiting for their chance to take over your position.”

She inhales sharply but doesn’t lose her composure. Rachel knows she cannot cross a line without getting replaced. In Rachel's case, getting replaced means being killed because she knows too much about Walter’s organization. “Just tell me why she’s so important.”

“I owe her father. It’s called compensation,” he finally caves in and sighs. “He saved me years back when I was still trying to figure this business out. She’s his legacy, all that’s left of his family. I gave her the job to keep an eye on her. He’d kill me knowing she got hurt on my watch.”

Rachel blanches. Walter almost looks scared. He never looked frightened. Not a single time.

For a long moment, they look at each other, silently agreeing not to tell another soul about what he just revealed.

“We will keep her safe,” he finally says. “She can never know. He didn’t want her to know about his business.” Walter narrows his eyes. “Do you understand?”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #mafia au #mobster!walter marshall #walter marshall x you #Compensation (2)

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