#first full body piece I've done in a while

[pandoras-proxy]

[xo2dee]

🗨️ 40 CHIPS

PAIRING: Dante/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Chair Sex. WORD COUNT: 4,688. SUMMARY: Either his luck really was that bad, or he just liked to let you win all the time.

A/N: i've never played strip poker or poker itself so if you see any inconsistencies mind ur business,,, also had dmc 5 dante in mind writing this

DMC MASTERLIST

On rare occasions, there were nights you got Devil May Cry to yourself, and there were nights you got Dante to yourself. And on some of those rare nights, you got both in one sweet, little wrapped present. On those particular nights, you and Dante liked the up the scales in your relationship and have a little friendly competition of a game between you two to see who would come out on top for the night. Such was a night, and you and he were at it again playing a dangerous game to see who could come out on top of the other and got the ‘prize’ the other was promising.

And in your favor, you held the cards for the winning hand.

Tensions were high, your eyes glazed over in determination as you stared over your choice of weapon for the night against your opponent as he chose his next move very carefully. It was a game of chance and skill all wrapped into one, your hand a winning one as you held the ultimate dealbreaker within your fingers while your opponent continued to slip and fall and take the hits you were so careful to deal out. For once he was off his usual slight above you, his eyes squinting over his own weapon as he watched you carefully before lying down his next hit for you to counter.

And once again, he missed his mark as you dodged and laid down your next attack. His eyes quickly darted over to what you had done, then you watched the defeat cloud his eyes as he groaned and hung his head down when he understood what it meant. Jackpot, indeed.

“C’mon, babe, cut me some slack,” your boyfriend grumbled, falling back into his chair with a sigh as he eyed your winning hand of cards laid across from his.

You only shrugged with a smirk, though you couldn’t but feel like he was holding out on you. Or if his luck really was as bad as he was always complaining it was. “There’s no possible way you’re this bad…”

Dante scoffed, sitting back up straight as he grabbed at the back of his shirt with a wink, “I can still come back from this.”

A laugh escaped you, pulling another pile of chips toward you as he removed his shirt, “Right… all I’ve taken off is two socks.” One of your legs kicked up to show him the missing clothing, the rest of your clothes still on your body as Dante was only left in his pants and two folds away from losing the game of Strip Poker. The entire thing had been your idea of course, an excuse to get Dante as naked as possible while you remained as clothed as you could before you got the winning prize from him. He was too eager to play a round of Strip Poker, a cocky smirk on his face telling that you’d lose and he’d be happy for you to take your clothes off for him… Yeah, he ended up eating those words the first time he had to fold and took his coat off, claiming he’d ‘get back at you’… To which, you were still fully clothed while he only had his pants and boxers left.

The sound of him shuffling cards brought your attention back, giving the each of you a new hand before he squinted at you in suspicion, “Have you been holdin’ out on me?”

“Not really,” you flipped your cards over in your hand and held back your grin, eyeing him from over top of your cards with a suggestive raise to your brow, “maybe your luck isn’t as good as you think…” And then you laid down your hand – a straight royal flush within your hold as you grinned full of teeth and victory watching his eyes bulge as took in the symbols along the corners of your deck.

And another piece of his clothing was coming off.

“Damn,” he rubbed his hand across his jaw, immediately folding his hand as he scooted his chair back enough to begin unbuckling the belt of his pants, “this is my last piece of clothing too…”

You blinked, raising an eyebrow as he began shimmy off his pants, “Don’t you still have –”

The sound of his belt buckle clanging against the floor silenced you, and then sitting up straighter to peek over the edge of the table let you see the beginnings of his happy trail and that was too prominent and his hips were too visible for him to be wearing anything else… Leaving him to be completely stark naked… And he was just sitting there with a new hand continuing to play like you hadn’t just stripped him naked and beat him in a landslide victory of Strip Poker.

Dante scratched his chin, looking up towards the ceiling fan that you turned off before glancing at the window in confusion, “…Do you feel a draft?”

You could only gawk, wondering he’d been walking around the entire day in leather pants without any underwear before you voiced that question while your hardest to not peek up over the table to see the rest of his exposed skin, “Are you not wearing any underwear?”

His index finger came up to rest against his lips, “Shhh, pretend I am – we can keep playing,” Dante started to reach forward to shuffle the deck once more, a grin on his face as you felt your panties grow damp once you realized the victory you had won. “I can still come back.”

“Nu-uh,” you jumped forward, snatching the cards out of his hands and then pulling the rest of the stack of chips towards you in your winnings, “I don’t think so. Don’t be a sore loser, Dante.” You shifted in your seat before pressing your feet fully on the ground, discreetly rocking your hips along the chair’s seat to warm yourself up for what you had planned.

Dante seemed none too aware of your rising arousal nor the slight rocking of back and forth you were doing, holding up both of his hands in a gesture of peace as he relaxed in his seat, “Whatever, I fold, I fold…” his arms crossed over his chest, further enhancing the size of chest as you watched a bead of sweat trail down into chest hair and furthering down onto his abdomen, “So what’s this ‘huge prize’ you want?”

It was like picking up your cards and seeing a straight Royal Flush again, your win on the horizon as soon as he asked the question. But it wasn’t like Dante didn’t have a clue – he wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly was turning the gears in your mind the moment you asked him if he wanted to play Strip Poker. Of course, he could’ve been wrong and you were planning to make him walk around the Devil May Cry in nothing but an apron… though you held no such plans when you had Dante baring all and stuck in a chair across from you. And if you chair broke again… well, you’d just get him a new one.

You gave a small smirk, mischief alight in your eyes as you propped your elbows on the table and folded your hands together, “You.”

Dante shrugged, holding out his arms as he presented himself to you before you quite literally felt the heat begin to emanate off of him, “I’m all yours, babe.”

Sliding your chair back from the table, you mentally patted yourself on the back for wearing a skirt for the day… Just something about the way of Dante being naked and you completely clothed that made your stomach flip as you felt your underwear grow more and more damp. Raising one finger in the air before tapping it your nose, you told him, “I’ll give you one free pass of clothing I’ll take off.”

A lone eyebrow arched up, eyeing your body of what he could see as seemed to actually contemplate the answer before clicking his tongue, “Do I get to choose?”

You thought about it before shaking your head, having your own ideas for how the rest of the night would go as you slid your hands up into your skirt and pulled your panties down before kicking them over to him. He caught them with ease, peering at them in his palm as his eyelashes fluttered and the skin along his chest started coloring into red while you slowly sauntered over to him with clenched thighs and a smile. And in return, you got the pleasure of watching his Adam’s Apple bob with the long and loud swallow he made once he realized you were in one your moods again.

“Are those good enough?” you asked, prying them from his grip and tossing them into the pile of his clothes that lied on the floor.

“That’ll do, Captain…” Dante mumbled after a moment, eyeing you up as you held back the snort at seeing his cock completely hard and already leaking with precum before you’d even touched him. A side-effect you learned from him being half-demon; apparently everything was heightened, down to his bodily reactions (and his damn bounce back time) so much he was practically ready to go within seconds for anything. However, that never deterred him from prepping you for sex and you weren’t sure how many minutes you’d spent sitting on Dante’s fingers or face before you got to actually sit on his dick. And half the time you didn’t even need to get so riled up when you’d get so wet and horny from just being around watching him stretch his arms up and his shirt rode up to expose some of his stomach… Well, maybe you did actually, the dick size was not something to take lightly.

Wasting zero time you straddled him before latching your mouth onto his, eating up his surprised groan with your tongue as one of your hands knotted into the back of his hair and the other began a soft trek down the front of his body to his cock. Overwhelming Dante’s tongue, your fingers passed by the hair dusted along his chest, the firm, knotted row of his abdominal muscles, the prominence of his happy trail, and then you were coiling what you could of your fingers around the sheer girth of his cock. He grunted in your mouth at the squeeze, your fingers twirling of what you could in his locks as you gave slight tugs to each way you were twisting your wrist around his cock.

Feeling your own body begin to burn at the lack of attention, you sped things up a fraction as you decided to scoot into Dante close enough to begin rubbing your clit along his underside of his cock. The friction made your eyes cross beneath your eyelids, your throbbing clit twitching at the attention as you rolled your hips harder to later him up with your own wetness as well lubricate the inside of you for the squeeze you knew was coming. You weren’t in the mood for prolonged foreplay, your skin on fire and your lower abdomen doing its own acrobatic routine the entire time you were teasing him in the game and watching his clothes come off. Dante would understand later that you were in for something quick and hot rather than usual slow and passionate rounds you two were used to doing.

When you lifted your hips up and began to angle his dick to where your opening was, he grunted against your mouth and pulled away a few inches as a string of saliva connected you both before breaking. “No foreplay?” Dante asked with a knotted brow, his hands drawing patterns of what they could in your hips bones as you sighed and ran your thumb across the top of his cock’s slit.

“Dante, you’re literally leaking…” you laughed breathlessly when you watched his lips purse the longer you swiped along the head of his cock. A fast shower and grower he was, you were starting to believe he had been aroused for a while. “How long have you been imagining this?”

He paused, his fingers drumming a rhythm on your hips as he actually sat there and thought about it for a moment. Meanwhile, you were still hovering over his dick ready to take him in. “Since I started losing.”

So… since the start of the game basically. A lighthearted scoff escaped you, slightly petting the back of his head before you kissed the corner of his mouth, “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible –” Dante started to say with a breathy chuckle, only for it to immediately get lost in a choke when you took that initiative and started to sink down onto his cock with a grin on your face at his reactions.

You took him slow into you, but it still did slightly sting no matter how wet and ready you had gotten for him as someone with Dante’s size was bound to keep you on your toes. Inch by inch you slid him into you, biting your cheek and practically holding your breath the entire time as it was a few more moments before the entire brute of him was pushed inside, a gasp falling from your lips as you felt your walls stretch, constrict and throb once you got him where you wanted him. You winced a bit as you sat your ass onto his thighs, hearing him let out a choked noise as felt you the muscles of your pussy contract and flutter around the new welcomed intrusion. You wiggled a bit before sighing in content and how fucking good it felt having his hot arousal inside of you again and how full you felt with him inside of you, Dante sharing the same sentiment as you watched his eyelids flutter and a soft, whining moan drop out of his mouth.

Impossible. “And yours,” he finished his statement from before, and you got the satisfaction of the watching the tendons in his neck bulge forward whenever he dropped his head back with a louder groan through harshly clenched teeth when you suddenly clamped around him. The fingers he had on your hips quickly flexed away from you too, stopping himself from applying any pressure into your skin in case he accidentally squeezed too hard. You moved forward to press a kiss to his Adam’s Apple, relishing in when he suddenly bucked into you for the sensation and you heard an expletive leave him in a choked pant. “Fuck – I’m…  You feel so –”

Overran by the fog clouding your mind you rolled your hips once while biting gently onto his Adam’s Apple, pulling him inches out of you before rolling back down until he bottomed out in you with a soft moan. The tapping of his fingers was back onto your hips, his sign for you to continue since he had gotten adjusted to feeling you around him as you complied to his request. With your clit and cunt throbbing and feeling him pushing against your walls so hot and insistently, you began to move your hips rhythmically against his and enjoying at how he seemed to become literal putty in your hands every time it happened. You could already feel your body beginning to hum in delight from each way his cock slid along inside of your pussy, speeding up a bit as you watched his expression fall apart into pure pleasure in such a short amount of time.

You lifted yourself up off him, lethargically pulling him out of you and the slow slide of his girth making you grip him harder while biting your lip to keep from whining out. Once he was back out and his tip kissed your folds, his thumbs started to rub circles into your body before you buried him back inside of you at the same pace yet that time the stretch was tighter as you clenched up to get a better feel of his heat. The action of you pushing him back up into the hilt of you let a breathless moan fall out of you and a grunt from him, you tossing your head back once more with your eyes fluttering while his lips kissed at the spot underneath your chin.

Dante clenched his teeth and a hand shot up to grip your breast with a hiss pushing through the cracks of his teeth. No doubt he was fighting against himself with the scrunching and releasing of your soaked, hot cunt around his cock combined with your words, the atmosphere brewing once more as you became hot with arousal and wanted to roll your eyes back at how he felt inside of you. He groaned roughly, fingers digging into your breast as he spoke roughly with a hint of a whine, “Hand – Please –” Dante panted, and you understood the words enough to understand what he wanted.

The hand you had placed on his shoulder trailed down teasingly until you were at his pert and pink nipple, pinching it in-between two fingers with various twists as Dante pelvis began to jerk up into you from below. You started to move faster then, bouncing on his cock instead in delicious rolls as he pulled back far enough to watch himself disappear into you with a groan, watching your folds open to accommodate him and stretch as far as it could once he was into the deepest part of your cunt. One of his hands moved from your hip to slightly press down onto your lower abdomen, the act causing you to release a louder whine for him as it began to feel like his cock was nudging up into your skin there and into your guts.

“Mmm, Dante,” you sighed out, taking him out until only his swollen cockhead inside of you before quickly sheathing him back into your warm, soaked, plush cunt with a smooth roll. The continuous action coaxed more of the lewdest and loudest noises from him, God – “You feel so good,” you moaned out, nails digging into his hair while you pulled and tweaked at his nipple before you pulled him back to kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, just like that – fuck.” A raspy grunt escaped his throat at your words, his teeth biting at your lip as your hearing tuned into the sound of your ass smacking against the skin of his thighs and the distinct noise of your cunt slapping with your juices with every dive of his cock. He was borderline looking like he was about lose his goddamn mind, and that was only fueling your desire to ride him faster and harder enough to point you actually did end up breaking the chair again. It was already beginning to squeak and whine from all your movements, and you knew if you got any more aggressive it would collapse underneath you both mid hip roll.

“Not gonna last long, babe,” he admitted, a clumsy buck of his hips up into yours making him hiss as you curled your hands back into his hair to rear his head back far enough for you to mark up his neck once more.

Dante’s words enflamed you, your cunt clenching and throbbing as a hard curl of pleasure panged down into your clit from his little confession. It had seemed he had thrown all composure out for time being in favor of bowing to your will and doing anything he could to feel that level of euphoria again. You made up your mind, the specter burn behind your naval too much to bear while your need to have him completely burst into you furthered your speed and aggression.

You pulled away from mouthing at his jawline from him, fluttering your fingers around his torso and abdomen drawing into the hairs you could feel all around him as you switched to bouncing on him instead. You were delighted in the way he suddenly reared his head back with a curse, neck stretching harshly as you tried your hardest to push him into cumming before you did that time. You wanted – no, needed to watch it; wanted to see him finally fall apart as he came inside of you.

As hard as you were trying to as well, you could feel your own release on the cusp so you had to speed it up before you lost the little one-sided game you were playing with him. You mapped your hands back up his chest, the sounds of your sweaty skin slapping obscenely loud before you used one hand to pull his chin away to look at you and used the other to pinch at his hard nipple again.

The thought of him cumming inside of you was embarrassingly enough to unravel you, the ball of pleasure inside of you brimming to its near once more and your pussy fluttering each time you sank back onto his cock in a hard bounce. You swallowed before opening your mouth, a breathy moan leaving you before you goaded him on again, “Dante, are you gonna cum?”

Your breathy question and the louder and filthier your mouth got earned you the noisy groan you had been wanting, one his hands sneaking down to take two fingers to your swollen clit and begin rubbing away at it in those mouthwatering circles. It caused you to squeeze around his cock once more and in result his hand faltered from its ministrations as it sent pleasurable spikes up in his spine from how sensitive he was getting fucking you. You knew what he was doing though; he was trying to make you cum again before he did.

Ever the gentleman.

Incapable to help himself he began to snap his hips up in time with yours, panting needily as his cock throbbed when your pussy clenched from the sudden support. He groaned while those calloused palms drifted from the respective areas up to squeeze your breasts once and then slide back finding purchase on your ass and gripping into the flesh there. Desperate to fulfill the burning fire at his base, he began to guide you along, pushing you up and down in time with his thrusts to bring you both closer to completion.

“Oh, God,” you gasped, falling back down atop of him and hiding your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your increasing cries and moans. That coil was twisting inside you, uncomfortably tight and fueled by your own teasing the entire day before you could feel it begin to unravel as you continued on.

In response to your comment he tried to pick up the pace, slamming into your pussy from below while he kept you in place. “Shit –" That was all Dante managed to croak out, too busy choking over his own whines and groans while he felt that hotness growing at the base of his cock. The twitch it gave inside of you was hint enough he was ready to come undone and spend himself inside of you.

You could worry about the repercussions afterwards.

It was so hot – so fucking hot – and everything smelled just of him, your frontal lobe losing all other thoughts but just Dante pleasuring you so fucking good and about to make you cum from all his whining. God you were right there; so fucking close, but you wanted him to cum first.

Your squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back whenever your hips instinctively rocked faster and twisted harder onto him as your brain decided to settle on you just reaching that sweet, sweet bliss. The air around you two was blistering, his cock so hard and so hot inside your trembling you nearly couldn’t hold on any longer. Yet, you had to give him what he wanted –what you wanted as well – before surrendering to that euphoria.

You could barely hold onto him any longer, every part of your bodied slicked with sweat and your limbs beginning to fail you as you tried to hold on for a moment longer. You met his eyes once more and almost toppled over at how hard he was watching you move over top of him and possibly remembering every expression you made to his mind for his own want.

It was too much. You needed it.

“Cum inside of me – Now, Dante.”

You got the satisfaction for a brief second to watch his eyes roll back at the last words before your head lulled back from the harsh release of his orgasm. He groaned louder than he had before, hips jerking upwards in you ruthlessly as he spurted out everything he had into your pussy that so greedily took it and contracted around him with each pulse of his cock to bring more out of him. His cum was almost seemingly never-ending as each sudden stab of his hips in you had another stream of it filling up your cunt in thick, warm bursts. The new heat in you had you moaning once more in debauch contentment as you felt it gush up through you and completely coat your insides with his warmth until you felt like you were literally being stuffed full.

Dante jerked a few more times trying to calm himself down until he groaned again whenever you suddenly came all over his sensitive cock. As always, Dante cumming inside of you alone was enough to make you cum.

The prolonged moan that left you was all but a whining variant of his name and the octave enough to raise hairs on the back of necks. The coil in you unraveled fast, the pressure behind your naval falling away from you as if the wind had been knocked out of you and in consequence your bones and muscle tendons tightening up as you rode through it. His hips were slightly thrusting into you all the while your cunt clenched around him to find purchase for ground as the sounds of your gushed pussy and his ministrations grew until you were writing away from his touch as you began to throb in the aftermath of cumming. It was so much, and yet at the same time, not nearly enough of him.

You shook for a bit as you finally finished, hands placed back on his chest as you heard his heavy breathing come through your conscious first after pulling through the boisterous noise of your heartbeat hammering in your ears. You gave a sigh as you lifted off of him to free yourselves both of any possible overstimulation, wincing when he seemed to pop out of you and biting your lip when you felt your cunt already gap open from the loss of him and the telling of his cum beginning to slide out of you in a slow stream.

With your limbs relaxing and your eyes fluttering with the blinks of clarity, you suddenly fell forward onto his body and to your surprise his arms caught you and curled around your back as you laid there for a long moment. In the massive rush of hormones and emotions you two lied there with time losing meaning to you both if only for few moments, breathing rapidly in an embrace with your eyes glazed unaware of the surroundings for a long while until Dante took a rather long inhale and exhale and then laughed under his breath.

“Remind me to manipulate your deck next time we play again.”

The words made you pause, your brain taking a few seconds to catch up with what he said before you pieced the puzzle together on what he said. No fucking wonder you won way too easily. Leave to Dante to shit himself out of luck that way you’d get riled up enough to nearly break his chair while fucking him.

“You can’t be serious…” you groaned with your cheek squished against his chest, your body jostling as he started into a full-blown laugh.

“Oops, did I say that out loud?”

[mercy-burning]

Greedy

PAIRING: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: You give Spencer head for the first time as he guides you through it.

CONTENT: (18+) Blowjob. Praise. Crying. Gagging. Bon Appetit.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: this is totally formatted weird because i did this on a whim in my car at work without my laptop. i also didn’t proofread, sooooo if you see any typos, no you didn’t ❤️

*************

"Do you like having your dick sucked?"

Spencer is silent for approximately seven seconds before you continue, shock rendering his brain utterly useless.

"Sorry. That was a stupid question."

"N—no, it's not at all, I'm just... I didn't expect you to say that out of the blue."

You shuffle your position next to him, coming up to lean on your arm as he looks up at you. You bite your lip and avoid his eyes, his hand coming up to stroke your arm as you consider your words. "Well, I just... I've been thinking about it. I mean, we've been sleeping together for a while now and I've never done it, and I didn't know if it was something you actually cared about or... or what..."

Hearing you ramble and trail off makes him laugh to himself, his hand trailing up to lock your fingers with his. "Do you want to?"

It's your turn to laugh, the breath laced with worry, and regret for even bringing it up. "I'd love to, but... I'm not good at it."

Spencer pauses again, far less than seven seconds this time, the pieces slowly starting to come together. "I doubt that's true, but even if it is, there is not a single thing you could be bad at, in bed or otherwise, that would make me like you any less."

Still, you're relentless in your insecurity over the matter. "No, you don't understand, I'm astronomically bad at it— I can't even brush my teeth without gagging and crying!"

Somehow, despite the laugh that tumbles from him, the brief image of your pretty face flushed and puffy, eyes wet with tears, causes something wicked to stir in him. Still, he aims to comfort you first and push it aside in the meantime—perhaps forever if it would mean your contentment and happiness. To reiterate this point, he leans up and kisses your jaw. "Well, I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to until you're ready. Or at all.”

Your body relaxes a little, though your voice remains unsure and small as you ask him, “Can I try?”

Spencer kisses you again, pulling you on top of him and letting your lips bring him one step closer to Heaven. You kiss him softly, sensually, and his body reacts to it with such visceral need that he wonders how he’s lived so much of his life without you.

“Do anything you want, my love,” he whispers against you when you pull away for air. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You melt at his words, literally, as your body comes down over him. It’s like a tidal wave, trust and love and desire all crashing into him at once. There isn’t a single ounce of him that isn’t set alight at the mere phantom of your touch. So, when you’re on him in full force, a careful methodical mission to please him, he may as well be a living embodiment of the sun, burning and blinding and hot.

He watches you intently, trying not to let his eyes close as you continue your descent down the length of him. Your lips are slow and molten, each and every kiss sending a shockwave of excitement coursing through his body. Every so often, your tongue darts out to taste his skin, and the closer it gets to his waist, the harder it is for him to focus.

God, he thinks with a grin, you haven’t even undressed me and I’m already a fucking mess…

Your hand comes up to trace along the seams of his underwear, occasionally slipping underneath, teasing, as you nip and lick at his lower abdomen. And then, when you finally press your palm to the hard and aching weight of his desire, he can’t help the sound that escapes him—desperate, low, and downright pornographic.

Spencer half-expects you to laugh and tease him for being needy, but his need for you only builds your confidence; You gently squeeze him through that pesky thin cotton layer and swipe your thumb along where the underside of his tip is. Your mouth moves lower, teeth tugging at the waistband of said cotton, and he thinks you might actually be the death of him.

Watching you intently and steadying his breathing, Spencer lifts his hips as you tug the fabric down, at first with your teeth and then, finally, with your hands. The slight whimper that leaves your mouth at the sight of his flushed cock is a sound he never wants to forget, though the sound you make when you finally press your warm, welcoming tongue to his shaft is even better.

You moan and lick, slowly and all the way up to the tip, like you’ve just tasted Heaven. Your tongue explores and swirls, and your lips occasionally close around his balls, never fully taking him into your mouth but making him wet and aching all over.

Your exploration is slow. Deliberate. Sultry. Your eyes flick up to meet his every once in a while, never faltering your movements, but Spencer can tell every time that your body is physically crumbling under the weight of his gaze. The pure unabashed lust swimming about in his entire being is at a level that is new and overwhelming, threatening to sweep him away in a tidal wave and take you with him.

He wants to be greedy, but for now, he will wait.

You seem to sense this, pausing the movements with your mouth to talk while you strike him gently in your hand.

“Can I confess something?”

Even if he had an answer, he couldn’t have given it, his ability to speak rendered utterly useless when your fist squeezes firmly over his tip. His mouth falls open in a silent sigh of pleasure as you continue.

“The thought of choking on your cock is making me really wet…”

You punctuate your confession with a gentle, searing kiss to his belly. Right where his greed is pooling and aching to be set free.

All he can do is groan, throwing his head back and clutching at the sheets below him.

“Would you like that? Fucking my throat and making me take it until I’m crying?”

Spencer’s hips jerk involuntarily, and he barks out, “Yes. Fuck.”

You do laugh this time, but only for a second before bracing yourself. Your mouth parts, taking the tip of him between your lips and getting yourself used to having him inside you this way. Your tongue finds a comfortable way to caress him as you go down slowly, lower and lower, until—

You tense and retreat, barely making it down his cock half-way before you’re choking, a line of drool following your poor, pouting lips.

At first, Spencer thinks maybe you’ve changed your mind, and he’s ready to tell you it’s okay and that you can stop.

And then, you’re going again, your eyes never leaving his as you take him in your mouth once more. Slowly, and this time more relaxed. Your tongue glides around him differently, trying something new, making more room for him, but it’s still not enough to keep you from gagging.

Your eyes gloss over and your throat contracts, but you make yourself stay for two seconds longer before you’re audibly gagging, going back up and blinking away tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, catching your breath. “I’m trying.”

Spencer reaches and caresses your jaw with the back of his knuckles, his dick practically throbbing in your fist.

“I know, pretty girl. And you’re doing such a good job.”

The words are merely meant for comfort and reassurance, not to make you keep going, but they seem to encourage you anyway. Your watery gaze rises to lock with his, and you start to lazily stroke him again.

“Really?”

“Yes. You’re so perfect. I mean it.”

“I can’t even make it halfway down,” you whine in protest, but he’s immediately shaking his head.

“So what. You still feel incredible.”

You look up at him like you don’t believe him, but you’re determined to keep trying anyway, shifting yourself and bringing him to your lips one more time.

His hand is there for comfort at first, cradling your jaw, but then he finds himself guiding you, lifting your head back up once you start to go down too far. He keeps you right on the edge of your limit, feeling your throat tense every once in a while, but not enough to overwhelm you.

Spencer can feel your excitement, your movements getting more rhythmic and your tongue finding a perfect mold to the intruding length of him.

“That’s it,” he coos, trying to keep his breathing even. Both of his hands are on your face now, keeping you steady as you look up at him. “You look so pretty like this.”

His words are fuel, something darkening in your eyes as he expels them, and then you’re taking the reins, gripping his waist and plunging yourself lower onto his cock in one swift motion.

“Fuck!” he yelps in surprise, still holding your head as you hold yourself to the base of him and gag, for one, two, three seconds before lifting.

It’s not long before you’re going down on him again, finding a new, quick and sloppy rhythm that takes him deeper down the back of your throat each time. You choke, you gag, you drool, and you cry.

God, do you cry…

Spencer’s thumbs catch your falling tears, a steady stream that paints your cheeks beautifully and fulfills that deep-brewing greed thrashing around in the pits of his belly.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry,” he rushes out, close to orgasm.

At this, you whimper, which causes you to choke, which causes Spencer to finally let go, and he holds your head and thrusts up into your mouth. Over and over again.

He praises you through it, swiping lovingly at fresh tears and feeling his cum trail down his cock with your saliva, because of course there was no way you’d be able to swallow it all.

“That’s my good girl,” he chokes out, his thrusts softening. “Taking my cock so well… Just like I knew you would.”

Eventually his orgasm fades, and your mouth finally has reprieve. Still, Spencer cradles your face in his hands as he studies the aftermath.

He hadn’t been aware that you were wearing any mascara, but now it’s evident, watery black streaks cascading down the slopes of your cheeks. Your face is red all over, eyes puffy and lips even more so. You smile faintly, exhausted but happy—proud—and he can’t help but think—

“God, you’re beautiful…”

And right then, looking at him look at you, with adoration and wonder in his eyes, the thin fog of lust settled like firework smoke around you, you can’t help but think back—

“Mmm, so are you.”

[shouyuus]

insane thought but vi makes you sit on her lap while you do your makeup bc she just wants to be close at all times. i’m having visions 🧙‍♀️ of her just resting her head on your shoulder and smiling so fondly at you in the mirror, just observing you…… ugh 😞

OKAY but can we talk about it; there's an amazing tiktoker who has a whole series on breaking down the psychology of arcane via the fights, body language, communication, etc and how that all goes towards the storytelling and they do it rly well so i'll just let you guys ruminate on the 44 part arcane series they've doNE BUT. the thing they've said over and over again about how the way vi shows love and affection is FULL HAND CONTACT, like more so than even physical touch (ALTHO IM SURE THATS AN EXTENSION OF IT YALL), it's the hand thing

SO. like college roommate!vi after you guys have made it official, and ur both going to some kind of party, and you've already done vi's make up (and gotten SUPER distracted during it because well, it ended up with you straddling her lap and basically trying very hard not to fuck up her eyeliner bc her hands were ALL OVER your thighs and waist, inching up your shirt and teasing your skin), so now you've gotta do yours, and as much as you love and adore her, you know if you ask her to do your makeup in exchange you'll end up looking like you're going to an avril lavigne concert at age 13 which is NOT always a bad thing but just not the vibe you're going for tonight right.

so imagine sitting at your vanity, her with her chin hooked over your shoulder, and her arms wrapped around your waist, your back against her chest. and she's so warm, she's always been warm, but you always notice it more when you're like this -- the contours of your body fitted so perfectly against each other, like jigsaw pieces clicking into place for the very first time and realizing that this is where they were always meant to be.

"which one -- the darker one? or the lighter one?" you ask, holding up an eyeshadow palette to show her over your shoulder. and you feel her hand twitch on your stomach, but she doesn't shift either of them, just nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck.

"mmm... the lighter one," she says, "goes better with the dress you picked out.

you laugh, nodding, and dabbing a finger into the lighter shimmer shadow, leaning forward slightly to apply it across your eyelids. vi lets out a tiny whine as your back separates from her chest. and a second later, she's leaning forward too, chasing the contact. you cast her an exasperated smile in the mirror as she pouts at you over your shoulder.

"vi -- you're gonna make me mess up!"

"okay, okay, fine," but she's definitely still whining about it, barely letting up her hold as you shift your seat on her lap to give yourself a bit more stability as you go back to doing your makeup.

"what do you think?" you ask, pulling back and relaxing against her once more.

vi only tugs you in tighter, her fingers curled around your middle.

"i think you look beautiful, but... i always think that, so..."

you crinkle your nose, feeling a familiar heat wash into your cheeks.

"you don't think it's too much glitter?"

vi shakes her head, chuckling.

"nope. no such thing."

your lips twitch wider, "correct answer."

"mm... see? i pay attention," she says, nosing along your neck, her breath hot on your skin.

"i -- i've never said you don't!" you say, squeaking slightly as vi smirks into your shoulder.

"i know." a kiss.

"v-vi..."

"hm?" another kiss.

"what're you --"

"what's it -- look like --?" her teeth skimming along the junction of your neck.

"i-it looks like you're trying to make us even later f-for this party than we already are."

vi hums, shrugging as she sinks her teeth into your bare skin.

"well if we're already late --"

"vi! w-we promised we'd go --"

"and we will --" you feel the tips of her fingers teasing into the waistband of your sleep shorts, and you think that at least you haven't changed into your dress yet.

"we're gonna ruin our makeup!"

vi's hands pause, and a second later, she sighs, her face appearing over your shoulder in the reflected image of the mirror. she blows a strand of pink hair from her face.

"fine... but if it's a boring party --"

you roll your eyes, "we can irish exit as hard as you want."

vi's smirk smears sideways and you immediately bite down on your bottom lip.

"your words, cupcake. not mine."

you grin, leaning forward again to wing out your eyeliner and apply the most waterproof kind of mascara you can as vi watches you with indulgent eyes and a knowing smile.

in the end, you don't end up leaving the party early. but you do manage to desecrate of the bedrooms upstairs. though you only feel kinda bad for it because, well, you can't just throw a party, invite the entire girls rugby team, and not expect some level of debauchery, right?

right.

[ticifics]

I know ur not taking reqs rn but i had no idea u write smut 🤭 just throwing smth out there for u to possibly ponder but… remus smut (?)……

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞

── remus lupin x f!reader

warnings n tags: sexual content, mdni, est. relationship, no use of y/n, p in v, unprotected wc: +1.4k

a/n: heeeeey it took a while, but i finally did it! to be honest, i'm a little nervous because it feels like ages since i wrote about remus and this is the first time i've dared to do a smut with one of the marauders (so yeah, i'm nervous). i hope you like it <33

Remus was the gentle type. There were no sharp edges with you, just reverent hands, sweet nothings poured into your ears and gentle, soft kisses. He took his time with you, hungry eyes devouring the soft curves that adorned your body, wondering what he had done to deserve you.

He never found an answer for that, but he would never tire of thanking the universe for this gift.

Even as he sank into you, Remus had to remind himself to be careful. To never cross that line, to never tear your skin, to never leave his mark too deep.

It was so, so hard to just press his face against your neck, feeling your body tremble and shake beneath him, when all he wanted to do was sink his teeth into the sensitive flesh, claim you. Let the world know you were his.

You see, Remus had never had much. It was only natural that he wanted all of you.

This feeling grew more intense the week before the full moon. These days, Remus became more irritable, more needy, always finding an excuse to put his hands on you. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, and if you were honest, a part of you liked seeing him like this. The way his eyes looked like warm honey when he watched you, the hunger in them, the raw desire. How he seemed willing to bend you over any surface and fuck you until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore.

Not that you showed any resistance. He liked seeing your willingness, feeling your legs wrapped around his waist, hearing your sweet sighs, the way you always seemed ready to take him. Not only that, but how perfect you were, how you fit together like the pieces of a puzzle.

And as much as he loved the sight of your arched back, ass up, and fingers scratching—no matter what the surface was, he preferred to look at your face while he fucked you. Your eyes rolling, your swollen lips parted, the way your body rocked with each thrust.

He liked looking at you. Imprinting in his mind the way your skin was smooth, soft, warm. Infinitely silkier than a flower petal. The way his fingers left red welts on the curve of your hips, holding you where he wanted. And he liked admiring the new colors that stained your neck, running down the elegant column of your throat until they reached your collarbone.

But mostly, he liked—loved—when your eyes met. Nothing affected him as much as the affection, the love, the surrender in your eyes. The way you looked at him as if you would always choose him.

Your fingers cupped his face, feeling the texture of the thin scars that crisscrossed his cheek, pulling him closer until your mouths collided. He sighed against your lips, “t-t-that feels so good, babe. You’re s-s-s-so wet.” ​​His fingers gripped your thigh more firmly, an almost painful grip, making you whimper at the new angle, feeling him hit your precise spot with each thrust.

“R-Remus, that’s… hmmm, that’s too much, I-I—” you couldn’t finish, your body shuddering at the force with which he fucked you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your nails leaving half-moon marks on the skin, trying to somehow vent what you were feeling.

The obscene sound of skin slapping fills the room, mingling with the sound of your mingled moans. His eyes drifted down, feeling his face heat as he watched your weeping pussy swallow his cock, so wet there was barely any friction. It was like you were melting around him. Your lips parted with a silent sound, your head falling back.

“Remus… R-Remus, it’s too much. It’s too much, I-I can’t—”

“Shhhhhhh,” his fingers wrapped around your jaw, bringing your gaze back to his. Weakened, you offered no resistance, biting your lip as he thrust roughly, never stopping. “You can do it. You can take it,” without looking away, his fingers slid between your bodies, his palm pressing against your belly. The pressure made you throb, gripping him tighter between your walls.

“F-fuck,” his eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering at the sensation. The way your pussy felt like it wanted to take him deeper, like it knew that was where he belonged. “T-t-that’s it. See? I t-told you you could do it. You’re so good to me.”

Your eyes drank in the sight of him. The way he looked lost—no, the way he looked like he’d found himself. Like he was finally home. You whimpered, pulling him closer, feeling the familiar weight, the way his chest crushed your breasts. You needed to feel him.

You pulled him into another kiss, a messy kiss, feeling him nip, then suck on your lip. Feeling like you were going to come undone when his thumb traced tight circles on your clit. Your hips bucked in response, thrusting into his involuntarily, uncontrollably.

If they said Remus was in heaven, he couldn’t disagree, not when you repeated his name like a prayer, your voice fragile, small, almost broken. Calling out to him in a pleading tone.

He knew himself that he couldn’t take much more. Every muscle burning with the effort, he lifted your leg a little higher, sinking in to the hilt before pulling back, pulling out almost completely before slamming in again. He pressed his face against your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin, soothing with his tongue the marks he had made moments before.

You sighed, tilting your face, giving him all the space he needed, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you felt his teeth scrape your skin. A little more force, just a little more, and his teeth would sink into your flesh. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting your scent usurp space in his lungs. The sweet aroma that always accompanied you along with the smell of sex that overflowed the room.

“Please. R-Remus, I— ohmygod,” you mewled, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. You were painfully close to crossing that threshold, white spots appearing in your vision.

His lips left a trail of kisses down your jaw, feeling your body tense as he recognized the signs. “I know, love. I-I know,” he sighed, his forehead pressed against yours, sharing the same breath. “I’m too—”

He groaned, his hips losing rhythm as he felt the pressure reach a critical point. One, two, three more thrusts and he was coming undone, painting your walls white. His fingers found yours, squeezing them as he felt your walls crush him, your juices mixing as you fell apart.

Still, he didn't stop, still feeling the spasms of your orgasm, prolonging the sensation until he heard you whimper from the overstimulation. He pulled out slowly, watching cum drip down between your legs. He had to blink to be able to look away.

You were limp between the sheets, trying to catch your breath. As his thoughts were clearly clearing, he mentally cursed himself for his lack of self-control when he saw the marks he had left. Fuck, he should have been more careful.

It took him a while to steady his legs, looking for a towel to clean you, feeling his shoulders tense when you flinched at the touch, still sensitive.

Only then did he approach, wrapping you in his arms, your face resting on his chest—where your heart was still beating wildly. He kissed the top of your head, his fingers rubbing your back tenderly. “Okay?”

You hummed a “yes,” your voice muffled against his chest. Remus sighed as he felt your lips place a kiss over his heart, watching your face lift until your eyes met.

He bit his lip, his fingers cupping your cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Remus, no,” you cut him off, a small smile on your face as you leaned down, kissing his lips softly. “You don’t have to apologize.”

His eyes dropped to your neck, seeing the way his mouth assaulted the skin. Your smile widened at the way his cheeks flushed. “Hey,” you called out, “it’s okay.”

“But—” he trailed off at the rebuke in your eyes. He shook his head, still red-faced. “I promise I’ll be more careful.”

But you knew that within the next month, Remus would be like this again. Hungry, desperate, insatiable—you couldn’t wait.

[dovveri]

strike a pose

synopsis: momo’s the best photographer in korea and she’ll be taking your pictures for the annual haute couture magazine

warnings: swearing, 69, mutual masturbation, filming during sex, taking pictures during sex, reader has a praise kink

w/c: 4.6k

a/n: can be read as a standalone but also follows directly from sana’s part

⌞ ⌝

"momo!"

a pretty girl with bright blonde hair pokes her head out from around the corner, eyes brightening when she sees her assistant with you in tow.

"come in! i've been expecting you! y/n right? sana told me all about you!"

"s-she did?" you gulp nervously, unsure of what exactly sana told the world-class photographer.

momo grins, "enough anyway. c'mon- let's get you changed. we've got quite a few shots i want to try out today. sana really outdid herself with the outfits this time. i can't help but think she was a little more inspired than usual." there's a teasing lilt to her voice, like she knows something you don't.

you can only allow yourself to be ushered along as hands start pulling at your clothes, makeup brushes touch up your face, and hair rollers are placed into your curls.

after your appointment with sana, she had managed to get your contact number, either through your agency or whatever else. it was mainly just for business though, she’d ask for your opinions on certain colours or ideas she had, treating you as if she didn’t fuck you senseless in her workshop upon your first meeting. you just took her lead and pretended it never happened, though every time her name lit up your phone screen you’d feel a little tingle down your spine at the memory.

"alright! let's get going team we have a lot of shots to take today!" you hear momo's stern yet excitable voice over the pop music in the studio. momo's reputation was just as prestigious as sana's, though she was admittedly a lot less intimidating. people said it was because of her general airy obliviousness that made models feel at ease and comfortable when posing for her that made her a pleasure to work with. of course, that never diminished from her actual job at hand, she was the best photographer in korea, always booked out and only shooting for the best magazines and companies across the country. she could be a little awkward but her work spoke volumes, she was simply better at communicating with her tool than with her words.

you're rushed over in your first outfit of the day, an extravagant, floral piece with a set full of colour and vibrancy. once all the stylists are done touching you up and hurriedly move out of the camera frame, momo wanders up last, smiling and adjusting your body to her desired position.

her touch is soft, barely there, it leaves goosebumps on your skin, or maybe it was the fact that the a/c was on high.

"alright?" she checks in on you, eyes twinkling.

you gulp from her proximity, the only thing separating your bodies the camera hanging around her neck. you nod sheepishly, unsure of yourself.

she smiles, "just let me know if you want to take a break or anything yeah? remember you're the most important person in the room here, if we don't have a model, we don't have pictures, so don't be afraid to make any demands at all."

you nod again, not trusting your own voice to speak, but you appreciated momo being so accommodating of you.

with that, she steps back, holds the camera up to her face, and starts taking photos.

⌞ ⌝

momo isn't the type of photographer to yell out compliments or directions while she's working. she stays quiet most of the time, only asks you to keep natural and do whatever feels comfortable. it's not awkward though, you could tell how focused she got when she was working, how much effort she put into her job, what a perfectionist she was.

soon enough, you've run through all but one of the outfits and backdrops, the swimsuit segment.

your hair is being curled into wavy, ocean-swept locks when the stylists pull out the skimpiest bikini you've ever seen. after they're done clipping together the pieces, some of them even have the shame to look away despite having seen you in all your naked glory multiple times during the shoot. you thought it was a piece that was perfectly reflective of its maker. covering almost nothing yet leaving everything to be desired, teasing in the most erotic way imaginable.

the studio has already been cold enough with the air-conditioning on full blast, but now with the new beach backdrop and a mist fan blowing directly on your body and face to give your hair the appearance of being freshly blown through with a sea breeze, you're near shivering.

it doesn't help the chills going down your spine every time momo glances over at you. and momo makes it known when she likes something and when she doesn't. and the way she was stalking towards you like you were her prey, her eyes dragging over your body again and again, licking her lips, until she's almost nose to nose with you, it was pretty safe to assume she liked what she saw.

"alright?" her voice is husky, like she's controlling herself from doing something not so work-friendly.

you can only nod, breath hitching.

"hmm... are you sure? you don't look alright."

"h-how do i look?"

she gives you a devilish glare, "i don't think you want me to answer that y/n."

"why n-not?"

she leans in even more, you almost close your eyes out of habit before you realise she's breathing next to your ear, voice low, only meant for you, "is that how we're playing this? you're gonna act stupid? or... do you have a praise kink y/n? want me to tell you what a pretty girl you are? to tell you about how i think you look absolutely succulent and how badly i want a taste? how i want you riding my face with your perfect tits swinging back and forth while you leak into my mouth, my camera set up recording every movement, every sound, every scream you'll be making because of my tongue? is that what you want to hear?"

your ears were always sensitive, even momo breathing near them has you squirming and the inside of your bikini bottoms soaked. you whimper as she whispers filth into them, feeling light-headed and desperately needing to hold onto her or you'd be at danger of falling over and exposing just what she made you feel to all of her staff.

she smirks, turning on her heel quickly and barking , "out! everyone out! good job today but I'll be finishing up these final shots myself. thank you all for your hard work."

her staff exchange glances a little uncertainly, never having been told to leave early by momo before, so they were unsure if that was what momo really meant.

momo tuts impatiently, "did you not hear me? pack up! let's go!"

her staff are prompted into movement, hastily running around and collecting their personal items before bowing out of the studio. momo glares down anyone that looks to be dawdling for too long, tapping her foot and ensuring her studio was empty before turning back to you.

you gulp, grateful the makeup on your face was covering the bright red blush on your cheeks. you both knew what was going to happen. it was a little absurd this was happening to you a second time when both times it's been 2 of the most influential people in the fashion industry. you're still in disbelief that they wanted you.

momo eyes you again with a smirk, fully appreciating you without the burden of her staff bustling around and calling for her attention in the background.

"alright gorgeous. let's do some standing poses first. whatever makes you feel the most confident."

you nod, taking in her direction and pushing one hip out, raising both arms to mess around with your hair, face morphing into a practiced smile, going for the sexy, energetic woman on the beach.

momo starts snapping away, humming and checking the photos every now and then, there were a few she took from certain angles that were a little... questionable, but you weren't one to question, so you let her do whatever her creative freedom asked her to.

"now can you lean forward? hands on your knees please."

you blush, this was a classic swimsuit stance, it would be fine, there was nothing to be shy about.

you do as she asks, switching your happy-go-lucky smile to one that’s a little more seductive.

momo takes a second to raise the camera to her eye, staring at your chest like she had lagged out. but once she does, she’s back to work, making sure she gets all the best shots.

“now lie down. on your side.”

you gulp, following her instructions. momo moves the fan to be at your face level, so it’s still blowing through your hair. she lingers a little, adjusting your face, hand on your chin. her eyes are stormy, the hint of a smirk permanently etched onto her lips. her hands drift from your chin, down to your shoulder, gliding fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breath hitches audibly when she slips down to your side. she hums approvingly, her smirk growing as she traces your side, your stomach.

then she slides backwards, leans back on her knees and brings the camera back up to her eyes. you’re caught as her shirt lifts, her very visible abs peeking through.

momo clears her throat, “camera’s up here darling.”

you lick your lips, not even needing to fake your next look, reeking of pure sex. all you can think about is momo’s abs, her thighs, the way her knees are spread, her biceps, her well-endowed chest, all that muscle she was packing underneath a teasing smile.

she takes the picture.

then she’s the one leaning forward, going on all fours, crawling towards you slowly.

you hold your breath as she reaches you, nudging your hip lightly so you’re lying horizontally. and then she’s hitching a leg over your side and sitting on top of you.

your hands instinctively go to her hips but she catches them, pushing them above your head, her chest smothering your face in the process.

she leans back too soon, bringing the camera to her face, adjusting herself to sit better on your hips. “there we go. you’re a pretty girl.”

you blush brightly at her comment, looking away shyly. she starts snapping immediately, grinning. you compose yourself and look back towards the camera, biting your lip, drooping your eyes, satisfied when you hear the stutter in momo's work before she starts clicking again.

once she's happy with those shots, she moves off your body, but keeps a hand on your stomach to keep you there, pushing down slightly letting you know who was directing you, who owned you. then she's propping up a beach ball, or an umbrella, you couldn't really tell you were too focused on the way her abs tensed as she lifted and shuffled things around.

she leans you back, then slides her hands down from your stomach to your thighs, pushing gently.

your eyes widen, unable to resist as she spreads your legs, licking her lips as she stares.

“m-momo.”

“hmm?”

“um- the- the photos?”

she clicks her tongue, “impatient are we? just let me enjoy the view for a little.” her eyes track back up your body, smirking at the hooded look you give her, breaths coming in and out visibly harder, your arousal too obvious to ignore.

after what feels like forever sitting in your own slick, she finally moves backwards, bringing that goddamn camera back to her face, her smirk only growing wider with each passing second, before she starts to click.

she takes a few shots, then feigns disapproval, frowning down at her camera in the most exaggerated pout you have ever seen, so you know it’s just for show.

“y/nnnnn~” it’s cute, too cute. “i don’t like these. will you… spice it up a little?”

you take a breath before responding, steadying yourself, “spice it up?”

“yeah. y’know…”

“…i-i don’t.”

momo’s expression changes immediately, scowling, her cutesy show over in a flash, “don’t be a brat y/n. you know what i’m talking about. you think i can’t see you dripping for me? you think i can’t see the way you’re squirming, how you’re imagining the way i’d feel under you, inside you? don’t make me spell it out for you. be a good girl and do what you want to do.”

she's completely right of course. her words only encourage the thoughts you've been keeping locked away since the moment you saw her. you didn't think it was professional for this to happen a second time, hell the first time you didn't think it was professional.

but you gulp, hesitantly bring your hands down to your stomach, tracing the skin there lightly. you feel your nails dig in just lightly and you gasp, hyperaware of your body and all its sensations. the cool air of the room, that fucking fan that's been blowing wet mist at you for the past 20 minutes, momo. god momo. she was so fucking hot. in that sleazy, greasy, nice-guy way straight girls found film bros hot. except momo had the face and body to match the arrogance she hid under practiced professionalism and niceties.

you whimper as a hand trails up and captures a breast.

momo grins, bringing her camera back up to her eye, more vocal now than she has been the entire photoshoot.

"there we go. now we're getting somewhere."

you feel your breaths go heavier, no longer able to hide yourself as you ache to rub your thighs together.

she notices of course. she notices everything about your body.

"don't you fucking dare. tease yourself. make it worth it. make yourself earn it."

you try and take a breath to steady yourself again, though you don't know why, each breath hasn't been helping at all, only making the matter worse as you become more and more aware of your arousal.

with difficulty, you bring your other hand to your chest, now groping both your tits, moaning fully, completely on display for her while she snaps away.

"there we go- that's good- more like that- mhmm-"

momo mumbles praises and compliments that make your head dizzy and your pussy clench. your fingers find two hard nubs that have been begging for attention since you had gotten in this glorified piece of cloth. you pinch simultaneously and let out a pathetic sound of lust.

momo gets it all on camera. zooms in even.

knowing you had an audience, that this was being recorded, it gave you a sick sort of thrill that made each squeeze of your hands feel that much better, each click of momo's finger, like she was rubbing your clit with each photo.

one hand slips under the bikini top, doesn't reveal it to the camera, but it's obvious where it is, pulling and twisting as you writhe, legs shaking, sweat collecting, desire building.

momo comes closer, sits right between your legs, keeps them open, captures your face mid-moan, anyone could hear the pornographic sounds you were making without needing film, the pictures momo took were enough. she was that good.

the heat of another person near you makes you grow desperate. "m-momo- p-please- i- i- i need-"

"hmm? what do you need darling? tell me. remember i said you're the most important person in the room. without you, we don't have pictures, without you, i don't have a job. so, what do you need?"

"y-you! please-"

"me? what do you want me to do to for you?" she cocks her head, acts confused, you know better.

"w-what you said e-earlier! p-please i'm please- i'm begging-"

"oh you're begging? why are you doing that? i'll give you anything you want darling. there's no need to beg. do you think i'm that mean?" she pouts, has the audacity to look completely innocent even while she has you under her, dripping onto the floors of her studio, hands groping at your chest, back arching trying to get closer to her.

"m-momo!"

"what?!"

you almost cry, sliding your right hand down your stomach, straight into your bikini bottoms, the waterproof material did it's job too well. you couldn't tell from the outside, but the inside, it was drenched. you moan as your fingers meet your folds.

momo doesn't even glance down, keeps staring at you in mock ignorance.

you slide a finger up and down your slit, gritting your teeth as you rub your clit harshly. too harsh, you would come too soon. you ease up, sliding back down to your entrance, hips bucking up, other hand still twisting at a nipple.

snap!

you roll your head back as your hips rock against your hand, letting her slide down and position herself right in front of your cunt, lens pointed directly at it. you can't look at her, too embarrassed as you push your fingers in and out of yourself, just centimeters away from her face, from her instrument.

you've been groping at your chest enough that the material has ridden up, half of your chest exposed to the studio, to the flashing lights at each click of momo's fingers, and fuck you needed more space. so you hastily pull at the strings tying the bottoms together, just one side while your other hand keeps pumping in and out of you. it falls away easily and you feel yourself clench around your own fingers at the gasp momo lets out, snaps growing quicker in succession.

the hand that untied your bottoms goes right back to your neglected tit, rubbing and squeezing while you hump your hand.

you risk a glance down, and you almost cum at the sight.

momo's got one hand on her camera, the other down her pants.

it's a little pathetic, the way she's grinding down on herself, trying to alleviate the tension that's built up in her lower stomach, such a pretty girl reduced to a horny loser at the sight of pussy, but it gets you so hot knowing she was affected by you.

your eyes focus in on the hand trapped between the floor and her cunt, the rapid movements giving you an idea of what was going on inside her pants. you start to match her pace, bringing the hand that was palming at your breast to rub at your clit, pushing it around in little circles as you gasp and moan and clench for her.

momo curses under her breath, cheeks flushed as she stays on her stomach, a shaky hand still clicking away, changing settings, zooming in and out, capturing every moment of your build-up.

it was too much, her focus, the way you're pulsing, the flashes of the camera. you cum.

your vision whites out, throwing your head back, unable to hear the little curses momo lets out as she pulls her other hand out of her pants, frantically grabbing for her camera to be able to capture your full glory in your orgasm, her fingers still covered in her own slick, zipper undone as she scrambles to her feet.

you keep pushing in and out of yourself, slowing down the circling on your clit until a full stop, breathing heavily as your vision returns.

you blink, looking around hazily, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a wet squelch.

you find her eventually, stumbling around with her pants fallen to her knees while she fiddles with different cameras and light settings.

your post-orgasm haze finds her adorable. so different to the woman who said she'd have you screaming on top of her tongue. she was unpredictable, your initial canvas of her was wrong. she was simply... momo. she was unique, the only person who could possibly understand her was herself, and you doubted she understood herself. but that didn't matter, because she's good at what she does and she gets what she wants.

she notices you watching her after a little, blushing and kicking off her pants fully.

"sorry y/n just gimme a second."

you smile, shaking your head, "it's alright."

you watch fondly as she finishes up, but with her legs now exposed you can't help but feel the twinge of arousal in your core as your eyes follow the muscles of her thighs, her calves, her ass when she turns and bends. she acts so oblivious but she must know what she's doing.

you sigh, leaning back and running your hands up your stomach again, appreciating the view. you finally take off the bikini top, freeing your chest and groping freely at them as momo stands back up.

she checks the camera once more, then takes off her top. her bra follows quickly after, and she turns.

her eyes narrow as she stalks towards you, chest swinging proudly as you whimper, pinching your nipples and wishing you could just bite down on hers.

"i see you started without me."

"mhmm~"

"i told you to give me a second didn't i?" she stands above you, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts together sinfully. you notice the wet spot on her underwear, trying to hide a giggle but failing.

she raises an eyebrow, pulling her panties off. that gets you to stop, your mouth watering at her cleanly shaven, dripping cunt.

"something funny?"

"n-no."

"c'mon. i like funny things. tell me."

"nothing's funny."

she kneels down in front of you, on all fours, your eyes go straight to her chest.

"impatient and a fucking liar."

you whimper.

she juts a finger behind her, her eyes never leaving yours, "i'm giving you what you wanted now. what i said. that camera's filming us, so are three others around the room, just so we get every angle. now you're gonna sit on my face and look pretty. understand?"

your eyes widen, wet already from your first orgasm, fresh arousal starting to build up. you nod.

"good girl."

you squirm at the term, watching as she lies down, then pulls on your thighs to get you to kneel on top of her. you're a little embarrassed as you lower yourself, but momo doesn't give a shit. she yanks you down and starts eating like it's her last meal.

your hand comes up to your mouth in an automatic reaction, trying to stifle the sinful moan you let out as she starts lapping at you. you can't control yourself. you never could around her. your body reacts on it's own. riding her face.

momo sucks your clit into her mouth and your knees buckle. you're afraid of suffocating her but she shares none of the same concern. arms pulling you down as you try to pull away, licking and suckling.

you look directly into the camera she has set up in front of you, imagining how messed up your hair was, how utterly ruined you looked.

momo's hands are on your ass, pulling you down still, but she lands a slap, the sound echoing throughout the empty photo studio.

you yelp, gushing into her mouth. she happily drinks it up, spanking you again.

the ripple of your cheeks must be captured on the camera behind you, maybe if momo had the quality settings right, it could even see the slick flowing from your cunt into momo's mouth, onto her tongue.

you can't bear to look into the camera anymore, eyes drifting down to momo's chest.

god you could finally see her. pretty dusk-coloured peaks sitting on top of the breasts you'd only be able to conjure up in your wettest dreams. her abs flex as she huffs with effort, making sure not to let a single drop of you go to waste, working efficiently and thoroughly at your pussy, licking into every wall, every corner. her cunt glistens, you notice her thighs rubbing together and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. you do it anyway but only because momo has her tongue inside you, hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

you test her, placing a little more weight on her face. she moans eagerly around you, pulling you down further.

satisfied she can hold you up, you shift your weight onto one hand, the other tracing down momo's chest, circling a nipple.

momo groans, vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure up your core.

you grasp the flesh, squezzing as her tit spills out between your fingers. momo bucks her hips, almost shakes you off of her, but her grip on your ass is tight, she wouldn't be letting you go until you came all over her tongue.

you're still moaning uncontrollably when you lean down, still groping a tit, pressing your own chest against her abs that feel absolutely heavenly flexing under your nipples, rubbing and moving giving just the barest amount of friction that drove you insane.

you grip her thighs, resting the front of your body on hers so you could part them, licking your lips at the sight that greeted you.

her cunt was pulsating. clenching around nothing, slick dribbling out of her. she talked so much but she was just as turned on as you. you planned on giving her what she was too proud to ask for.

you dive in.

momo moans into your cunt, hips rocking up before you push her back down, lapping at her pussy.

she tastes divine. otherworldly. salty and sweet, uniquely hers, just like everything else about her was uniquely hers. momo's grunting and moaning so prettily, and you're cleaning her up, even while she continues making a mess, you know you're not much better.

you grind down against her while she rocks up into you, chasing your highs. you find her clit, sucking, reveling in the moan she sends through your body, not wanting to be beat, she doubles down, growing almost overly aggressive as she sends another slap down on your cheeks when you're least expecting it.

you can't hear each other, can't scream out the curses, her name, all you can do is grind and moan and suck.

the blinking red dot of the camera gets it all. every brush of nipples against stomach, every flick of tongue, every squeeze of ass.

it doesn't take much longer.

not when she just keeps sucking. you're sure she could draw your pussy by now, that she's memorised it all. you could probably draw hers.

your back arches as you cum, and you make sure she falls apart at the same time, massaging her thighs as she writhes and cums, whining into your pussy, drunk off your taste.

you roll off of her before she can get you going again, lying on your back, your elbows pushing you up as you finally get a look at her.

she's covered in you. huffing, throwing her head back to breathe, cum dribbling down her chin. you can't help but crawl towards her, licking it up, towards her lips.

she lets you kiss her, still catching her breath as she pants into your mouth, the taste of the both of you mixing on your tongues.

you break away, licking your lips and wiping your chin.

momo grins lazily, "i think we got some good content."

you snort, "you think?"

"mhmmm. mina will definitely be happy."

your eyes widen, "you're not showing these tapes to myoui mina?!"

"and to sana. she asked for them."

your mouth falls open, gaping dumbly at her while she laughs, patting your cheek.

"let me know if you ever need any shots done. i'll be happy to help. i'll send you the tapes too once it's edited." she winks, wobbling back up and going to check the footage.

you stare after her, still in disbelief that the three of them really were in kahoots this whole time. and then the self-consciousness hits. they were going to watch those tapes. they were probably going to cum to those tapes.

just what the hell kinda industry did you get yourself into?

[bear-remn]

—shu headcanon's!

hi! I've been thinking a lot lately about the Sakamaki brothers and I came up with some headcanons that maybe you guys can enjoy too, the first one in this series is shu so enjoy! also a little art piece i make during maing this post.

tw: there are some nsfw headcanons!!! if you dont like that content dont read it!

his looks and selfcare

i do think that shuu is very, good looking, shu has that kind of elegant beauty, with his fine face and a straight nose, clearly his eyes are what attract the most attention when you see him for the first time, also shu has a very penetrating and fixed gaze, in addition to the fact that his blue color makes him have a captivating look and sometimes makes people nervous without realizing it, just because of his natural gaze.

even so, shu does not realize how attractive he is, at least not entirely, mostly bc he doesnt take care of his face, like he dont put any cream or special soap on his skin, he is totally the guy that barely wash his face and has a perfect skin.

but i do think that when he wants to, he definetly put sunscreen bc thats what he thinks is makeup for men.

and maybe this is a little... dirty? but i truly belive shu does'nt shower too often, maybe three times a week? or sometimes two, and he does not smell, like too bad, bc he dont sweat for some reason, but does sometimes stink with that smell, when somebody is for too long in a bed... that kind of smell.

and the times he showers he truly takes that shower like if it was his last, ofc is a bubble bath and he puts some candles and music while he just rest in hot water. is shu's private moment with himself. and he loves vanilla and chocolate candles.

and about shaving, he has a happy trail, but cant grow a hole beard, for some reason it just grow under his chin and it bothers him so he shave it right away. and about his body hair it is very thin and not so visible.

talking about skin, something shu needs, is to feel soft things to the touch, like his sheets, he makes his bed all the time and loves the smell of vanila or lavanda the bed has when its recently done, and its the same with his clothes, he needs cotton clothes, if shu feel something that is minimally rough or that makes his skin itchy, he never wears it again or throw it away.

shu does not brush his hair too often, mostly bc its not hard to control and he likes how he looks with messy hair.

i like to think that shu has a wide body, big shoulders and a thick waist, he has a prominent v line, his arms are a little thick too, and his hands are big, but his fingers are more thin and long, as he use to play piano. and he takes care of his nails, doesnt put nail polish but do cuts them and keep them clean.

random stuff

sometimes shu doesnt realize his shirt is inside out, and he realize just when somebody else point it out. but shu dont care.

shu is actually a goosip, so he puts one of his earphones bad just so he can hear what people are talking even if it had nothing to do with him.

and a little secret of him, when shu cant sleep and is alone, he looks at cute/funny (mostly shitpost) videos, memes and photos of animals, shu is totally an animal lover.

on his vacations shu loves to watch a reallity shows, he loves drama of famous people, but ofc shu doesnt talk about this with anyone. and definetly watch them when he eats. not too often tho, it has to be a really good show.

shu has a record collection in his room, next to a wall full of vinyls of his favorite music, he doesn't use them much but enjoys collecting them.

and bc of his childhood he is actually really smart but bc he is miserable and lazy he just dont show it nor in his life or in the academy. and also as a little revenge to his father (who punish him by sending shu to alaska lol).

shu actually dont like human food, he find it boring, but do enjoy eating meat, almost raw, but not too much, bc after that his stomach hurt a little. he does like coffe or hot chocolate sometimes and better when it has milk.

and my favorite little thing about shu, i think shu dont play in consoles, not play station, not xbox, not nintendo, nothing like that. so he only play games in his phone, but not anygame. shu either playes puzzles games or play subway surfers, or both, who knows. and he loves the music of that game, it always stick into his mind when he hears it.

NSFW

so, shus dick... is great, maybe too dirty of me to say but u truly belive that shu has a pretty dick, like maybe more thick than normal, with two prominent veins and heavy balls. and its a little biger than average, probably like 19 cm. i had to say it.

also, i belive shu is a switch, ofc loves to be dominant but also enjoys being dominated, with a limit.

shu loves to tease people in any chance he gets, like, when someone (specially a girl) find out that he likes to hear woman moans as music, he tease them to make them nervous like "what? would you prefer me to just hear you? want me to make you moan? hehe". or when a girl is wearing something too revealing too close to him, like he sees someone underwear or a little peak of her chest shu be such an ass "wanting to show me something? how lewd of a woman you are huh" all of that with his sly smirk.

he flirts in a very... one of a kind, like he teases but also like to make physical contact, at firts he just do it in a way to make the other person nervous but with the time he craves the physical contact, he loves feeling his skin touch another skin, what makes him sleep naked.

shu is more perverted than laito canonically, but i think that shu is more romantic about it, like put passion in it, you can feel the conection with him when having sex. specially bc he loves making eye contact and touch everything he can. he craves to melt into your skin and its really intense. he holds you with possessiveness, hard and intense. almost needy, but shu isnt like quick and fast or desesperate. he is more the kind of sloow and deep, nice and steady. kind of guy.

and bc of his intense desire, he loves foreplay, and best of it, he knows how to do it right, i just know he can read people to know what someone like to make them weak. he also loves kissing, tongue. theeth and lips, he have to kiss at every moment, and if you moan into his mouth he just gets worked up. he would definetly make you grind on his leg while kissing. clearly he does the leg thing, he know things.

shu is a big fan of 69, like he loves to get sofocated while you suck him, and he does it right, loves to play with your clit like crazy, but he isnt rough, but if you ask for him to be more rough he get into it, until youre fucking trembling. and he expect you to cum in his face, afterwards he is happy just to be there.

and his favorite position in bed is either cowgirl or spoonign, firts bc he like when you take control, and seconds, he gets to hold you and be close to you and not making too much effort.

in the case of cowgirl, he loves pushing up to go deeper, and all of that while watching you face, damn he loves it. also likes to hold you waist, and watch you support your body with your hands on his legs, that way he can see better your boobs as you move. when he is close he bites his bottom lip so hard just bc he wants to see you how you cum as well, literally make you look into his eyes while doing it. and if he can, shu will sit up just to kiss you and and look into your eyes up close. he loves to intimidate you with his gaze.

"cmon... keep looking at me... dont take your pretty eyes off mine..."

and if you refuse to lok at him, shu would hold you face to make your eyes meet his.

and in the case of spooning, he grabs you close, like if shu wants to get into your skin, would hold onto your tits or your belly with one hand while he other is in your neck, making you look back at him while he trust into you deep and nice. would kiss your shoulder, your neck, your back, any little part of your skin that is close to him, he would kiss it gently, and if shu speed up a little, you would hear his hot breaths in your ear, occacionally biting it.

"fuck... you're mine, you know that?... only mine.. say it..."

"you're my woman... hear it?... say it... i want to hear you..."

the aftercare is another story to tell, basically he would be either too lazy to get up or just by luck he has something to clean up in his drawyer. he is the kind of men, that would prefer to stay dirty for a while just to hold you a little longer, definetly tease you for another round or just kiss you softly as he carees you hair or skin.

this man craves you with passion, and its touch starved.

── more of my content here!

[unknownati]

x. bonnet

a/n: lost my bonnet (rip to my braids) and it inspired me

*a lil sum from my drafts while i force this christmas fic into existence and slooowly chip away at these reqs 😪 and i have since found it if you are wondering

warnings/tags: black!gn!reader, bonnet can be switched out for a durag, silk scarf, etc i js didnt know how to type that lol, ekko's kinda sassy 🤔, bickering but not arguing, fluff...question mark, what is this kind of thing called, rochelle and julius from everybody hates chris kinda relationship, shitty ending idc wrote this at 1am with a t-shirt on my head,

_______________________________________________

a cabinet door slams shut a few rooms over from ekko's workbench, his body jolting at the suddenness of the sound.

"where is this bonnet!?" you shout, clad in your nighttime attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants. this isn't a question new to ekko, you have this problem once every couple of months.

to say you were tired was an understatement. but you'd be damned if you spent hours in that chair getting your hair done just to have it get messed up in one night just because you couldn't protect it. and you've been searching for this thing for 30 whole minutes.

your footsteps stomped around the place, items clattering as you toss them around in wild abandonment in search of this godforsaken bonnet.

"did you check the bathroom?" ekko calls, raising his glass of water to his lips as you pace by his room.

"yes! three times. and even then, i never leave it in there, i always leave it in the same—" a pillow gets thrown off of your bed. nothing. "—exact—" you toss the sheets up. nothing. "—place. i don't get it!"

"then i don't know, baby."

"well, i know i didn't just grow two legs and walk on up out of here!"

ekko scoffs, making a weak attempt at showing empathy. "you have so many bonnets, just wear a different one."

"i can't. that's the only one that doesn't fly off my head while i'm sleeping."

he's amazed at your ability to be so stubborn at the smallest situation. to him, this is nothing but a 'throw something else on your head and call it a day' type of solution.

"can you check your workroom?"

"do you sleep in my workroom?" words full of sarcasm that make your brows somehow furrow even deeper.

"ekko, don't get smart with me."

he sighs, making a half hearted peek around his area. nothing. a shrug. "nothing here."

you keep searching around, looking in the most nonsensical areas for this piece of fabric. under the kitchen sink, IN the kitchen sink, in the shower, in your shoes, ekko's laundry basket, nothing.

you're beginning to just accept defeat, sighing in frustration as you trudge your way back to bed. you pass by ekko's workroom, eyes peeking between the small crack in the door.

pink satin.

atop ekko's head.

"i know you fuckin' lying—"

you swing open the door, snatching it off of his head. white locs fall loose, framing his face. your hand clutches your hip as you wave the bonnet in his face. "ekko, what is this?" you interrogated, an obvious rhetorical question that he didn't have an answer to.

ekko bares his teeth, shoulders pulling into a shrug. he completely forgot that he just...threw it on his head a few hours ago before he started working since he couldn't find a hair tie. "...damn, how'd that get there?"

you close your eyes. two deep breaths. in, out. in out. the second one steadier than the first.

now, usually you were very patient. you understood; things happen. but this? this was your breaking point for the week.

your fingers find the shell of his ear. the sting shoots through the cartilage, skin at his temple pulled taut. he's wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.

"it's like you're trying to test me, huh?

"baby, i'm sorry—" he unintentionally tries giving you his signature puppy-dog eyes. you only tug harder.

"sorry does not cut it. i've been looking for this for 30 minutes, 30! i'm tired as hell, i'm tryna sleep, and here you are playing like shit is sweet!"

...ekko didn't touch that bonnet after that.

[reality-shitting]

I think I cracked my personal puzzle regarding consciousness and shifting.

First things first, no, I did not have a full shift. I'm shifting before the 30th however, because I said so.

So! What happened?

Well. I was just sitting around last night, wondering about some questions I had still regarding our practice. I was asking myself "How come we never see any posts from shifters 'clones' while the consciousness has shifted?"

(Note: I hate the clone term and I know it's inaccurate, but I'm writing this on my lunch so I'm on a time crunch and it's the first way I could think of to describe it. Anyways.)

And then I said, well, what if we do? Who's to say the me here isn't still posting about shifting and how I've never done it, while *I* am actively in my DR? If my consciousness is in my other reality, does that mean the old me is not conscious? No, that me is still conscious, still aware. But then if the old me is still conscious, does that mean I am *not* consciousness? I don't necessarily think so. I think I've come to realize that the radio analogy feels like the closest explanation.

If you haven't heard the radio analogy, it's essentially that your "original" self (again, not accurate but the best wording for a crunch) and your DR self are two different radio stations. You, as a consciousness, need to tune your frequency from the first you to the next. So you turn your dial, move through the static, and now you're on your preferred station.

I'm a very visual thinker, so I think it'd be better if I demonstrated what I'm saying with a picture.

This is our current reality. You are "here". You are witnessing your life as person A. You may notice that there's a little dangle beneath you, connecting you to your body. That is Consciousness. (Pretend person B has it too, I forgot it in this one lol)

This is when you're tuning your frequency. This is you in the process of shifting. You're in-between, here and there. Both a and b are connected. This is where "mini" shifts, memories and other senses from World B download into consciousness A. This is why I believe @/kerryshifts could see reality warping and molding around them.

The channel has changed. You have fully shifted. You are witnessing your life as person B. You are connected to that life, that awareness. Notice how when you shift, the connector on A isn't gone. Person A is still aware, still has consciousness, still has awareness. This is why you don't end up in a comatose/unconscious state when you shift from awareness to awareness. Life goes on as usual, even if you are not witness to it.

So are you the awareness, the consciousness or something else?

I think, and this is me, that either the awareness/consciousness stays within the body, in a sense. One of them is mental and linked to the brain's perception of reality. The other is the spiritual perception of reality, what we may refer to as a ghost or spirit. The spiritual observer is what I think we are. We are the radio waves traveling through the air, connecting from one antenna to the next. I could absolutely be wrong and I'm still working through this part, so absolutely feel free to give your own interpretation in replies/rbs.

So! I've cracked my own understanding of shifting. What do I do with this information?

...I don't know!

I feel as though I've cracked the lament configuration and all it did was spit out confetti and a $5 coupon for little ceasers. I have been given the key to unlocking the universe and now need to find the door. I've been given a cryptic message from a loved one just as they die. I have solved one piece of the puzzle, but I'm missing the other half. I have. No clue how to translate this in my journey. It's both eye opening and exhilarating but also anti climactic. I've climbed a mountain, just to find a brick wall upon my descent. A map that leads to treasure, yet has no directory.

But, progress is made in chunks. And I'm very pleased with holding the key. Now I just need to create the door.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

SWEET TREAT

TWO IS COMPANY, THREE IS A CROWD

pairing: opla!sanji x reader, opla!zoro x reader

word count: 2.8k

warning: 18+, smut, swearing, penetration (p in v), oral (m receiving), food play, slight vouyerism

a/n: i didn't think 'TWO IS COMPANY, THREE IS A CROWD' would receive so much love. it's been overwhelming (in a good way) how well it's been doing. thank you to everyone who liked it and reblogged it!

as a thank you here is part 2 because if zoro had his moment so should sanji. (isn't that gif of him precious?) honestly you don't need to read part 1 to understand this. it's basically porn without plot (although it does have more plot than the first part lol)

i'd like to repeat i've only ever watched netflix's one piece so don't come for me if they are out of character.

i might just write a buggy oneshot next...that clown is coming for me.

Sanji outdid himself once more with dinner. No one in the crew can deny that recruiting Sanji onto the Straw Hat Crew was a great idea. Not even Zoro, who downplays his gratefulness with jabs towards the ‘waiter.’

With a full stomach and the rocking of the Going Merry the crew shuffles to their respective shared rooms to get some rest. Except for you.

You stay behind, gathering the empty plates and returning them to the sink. Sanji shoots you a thankful smile and pecks your lips gingerly as he turns to clean up the mess he made on the kitchen counter.

It’s peaceful as you scrub the dishes and Sanji returns everything to its respective spot. Each time he walks past you his palms find your hips, squeezing your body and rubbing up against you unnecessarily. Sanji just likes feeling your presence. Physical touch and acts of service is how he shows his love.

You don’t mind his touch, you revel on it actually. There’s something about big strong hands on your hips that makes you feel safe and fills your mind with impure thoughts.

You and Sanji talk in soft voices to maintain the unusual peacefulness of the ship. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he helps you dry the clean dishes, his breath tickling you and making you giggle.

“Saved space for dessert?” Sanji whispers, his eyes on the hallway leading to Luffy’s bedroom, afraid the boy will barge through the door.

“You’re telling me I have the pleasure of getting dessert?” You quip with a grin while looking up at him.

Sanji softly laughs, grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. Your arms instinctually go around his neck. “You were the only one who helped me clean.”

“I just like spending time with you,” you whisper getting on your tippy toes to brush your lips against his.

“Even more reason to treat you with something sweet,” he responds, fully capturing your lips in a kiss.

With only the two of you around he takes his time to sink into the kiss. Tilting his head to deepen it and brushing his tongue against your lips. One hand grabs your hip while the other tangles in your hair, pulling you closer.

“I thought you were making me dessert not that I was dessert…although that can be arranged,” you tease him, dropping down back on your feet, leaving one last kiss on his jaw.

Sanji chuckles and shakes his head at your words, “You’re sweet enough to be dessert, but you’re right I did promise you a treat."

Kissing your forehead, Sanji opens up the pantry to get the necessary ingredients. You lean against the counter besides him as he fixes his sleeves up and starts whisking ingredients together. All of his movements are precise and confident.

Your eyes zone in on his strong forearms. The veins and tendons tensing as he whisks away. You can't help but remember all the times he's held you in his arms, his strong grip and the pleasure he gives.

You move to stand behind him as he finishes up, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him. You leave kisses along his spine, resting your head there for a moment. Neither have to speak to appreciate each others presence and the calm environment.

“All done, darling,” Sanji announces. He places his arms over yours to intertwine your fingers and give the palm of your hand a kiss.

You peep from behind him seeing a dish with chocolate mousse and whipped cream. It's your favorite dessert, the same one he recommended back when you first met at Baratie.

As you reach for the dish Sanji grabs you and lifts you to sit on the kitchen counter. You laugh as he stands between your open legs, bringing the dessert up between the two of you.

You part your lips as he raises the spoon up to your lips. Sanji watches you expectantly and a sense of satisfaction fills him as you close your eyes in pleasure.

The mixture of flavors invade your senses causing a moan rises from your throat. Sanji's proud smile falters as your tongue swipes your bottom lip to clean off a bit of chocolatey residue. A wave of lust crashes against him and settles deep inside of him.

“Best one yet, Chef Sanji,” you say none the wiser to the thoughts of the blonde chef.

“Yeah?” He says huskily, “Let me try, darling.”

The taste of the chocolate is alive in your mouth as Sanji presses his lips against yours and sneaks his tongue inside your mouth. There's no better place to taste his creation than from you. You squeal in surprise but lean into the kiss, grinning at his playfulness.

“I have to agree with you,” Sanji responds breathlessly, tucking a stand of your hair behind your ear.

“Smooth,” you giggle, taking the dish and spoon from his hands.

You and Sanji share the tasty dessert. You take charge of the spoon, feeding it to him in intervals. When it's nearly done you take a bit of left over whip cream and spread it on his nose.

Sanji stares at you open mouthed, he wasn't expecting that from you. "You're disrespecting the chef, love," he says moodily, wiping the nose with his finger and looking around for a rag.

"Am I?" You question, grabbing his hand. He looks at you questioningly as you lift it up to your lips to suck the finger covered in whipped cream.

The same sensation from earlier fills him once more as your lips wrap around his finger. You lock your eyes with his as your tongue swirls around it, just like it would if it was his cock. You release it from your mouth with a ‘pop’ with Sanji staring at you lustful eyes. His cock stirs in his trousers, feeling confined all of the sudden.

“You're being a little brat after I've treated you so well, darling?” Sanji breathes out, grabbing your thighs and sliding you to the edge of the counter. Now pressed against him you feel the bulge you've caused.

"I'm sorry?" You 'apologize' with a mischievous grin and a shrug.

"Sure you are," Sanji grumbles, stealing a kiss from you. He doesn't kiss you long as he leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck, the smell of your perfume still present on your skin. His hands sneak under your shirt, touching your warm skin and making you shiver.

You cross your ankles behind him, keeping him close to you as your head dips back. You feel his tongue on your collarbones, sucking a bruise on them.

As best you can you blindly unbutton his shirt, allowing your nails to rake down his chest and stomach. Sanji's abdomen tenses at your touch, which doesn't go unnoticed by you.

Sanji's lips soon return to yours, slipping his tongue past them to play with your tongue. Teasingly you slip a finger in the waistband of his trousers, pulling on it playfully.

"Let me make it up to you," you pant, referring to him calling you a brat. Undoing the belt and popping open his trousers you slip your hand under his underwear.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman," Sanji groans when you take hold of his cock and pull it out of its confines. You smile widely at him as you begin stroking his length.

Sanji's attention is redirected to your chest as he brushes off the straps of your top down your shoulders and pulls it down, exposing your chest to him. He feels you shudder when the cold sea air hits your skin.

An idea forms in his head when he notices the left over whipped cream. Reaching out to it he grabs a dollop of it and spreads it over your hard nipples. He's combining two things he adores, you and food.

"Sanji, what?" You gasp, looking down at the mess he created.

"You said you could be dessert," he reminds you, briefly kissing you.

His mouth encases one of your nipples to clean you off the sweet cream. Sanji's tongue swirls and flicks against it, making your back arch in pleasure.

You momentarily stop pumping his cock in your hand, getting lost in his touch but Sanji reminds you as he thrusts into your palm. You continue to rub him up and down, tracing your thumb over his sensitive head to spread the bead that has formed there.

Meanwhile, Sanji switches to your other nipple, licking and sucking it. He needs to give props to himself as the whipped cream is delicious, especially topping your skin.

Sanji pays equal attention to each one of your breasts as he pinches and pulls on the one not in his mouth. Above him he hears your dulcet voice calling his name. Your touch is addicting as he sporadically jerks his hips to meet your pace.

Your chest and neck continue to be covered in whipped cream and yet you don't feel the stickiness as Sanji indulges on the sweet treat. Even as he comes back up to kiss your pouty lips you taste the sugar on them, leading you to crave some yourself.

"I want some whipped cream too, you know," you tell him with a pout.

"There's some left over," Sanji answers you albeit a bit confused. Seems like he forgets he's not the only one that can play around with food.

You gently push him back and drop down from the counter. Grabbing the small bowl with the left over whipped cream you kneel on the floor. Sanji is taken aback but nontheless lets you guide him to stand right in front of you.

His cock bounces as he settles in front of you. You grab it and give the tip a little kiss. Sanji grabs the counter behind him to brace himself. Dipping your finger into the bowl you spread the whipped cream along his length, letting some accumulate on his head.

Sticking out your tongue you lick Sanji from base to tip, gathering the sugary substance. You lick and lick until there is none left. Sanji watches you like a hawk, knuckles white from how hard he's grabbing the edge of the countertop. A grunt or two leave his lips, urging you on.

Sanji hisses your name when you push yourself to take his whole length in your mouth. You look up at him, cheeks hollowed and wide eyes, feigning innocence. "You saucy minx," he chides you.

Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail Sanji takes charge of your pace and the depth you take him. You hold onto his muscular thighs, letting him do as he pleases. Your tongue does wonders as it swirls around his cockhead with each opportunity that presents itself.

The combination of your warm mouth and the visual of you half dressed and flushed takes him to the precipice but before he's able to climax he forces you off his cock. He's not about to cum without having your walls wrapped around him. Helping you up he brushes your watery eyes with his thumbs and kisses your wet red lips that match your nose.

Positioning you to face away from him, he leans you over the counter. You glance behind you as feel him pressing up against you. Sanji pulls down your shorts and panties, ignoring the wet patch on them. His fingers dipping between your legs confirms what he already knows. You've been anticipating his touch ever since you decided to stay behind to help him clean up.

"Would you look at that?" Sanji smirks, spreading his fingers to watch your slick webbing between them.

"Sanji, please. I need you," you whimper, wiggling your hips.

"Now you decide to be polite, darling?" Sanji asks, swiping his cock against your drippy slit. It catches against your entrance, teasing you.

"Mhm, please," you shakily beg.

"Remember to be quiet or else the others will come wandering around," Sanji warns you, slowly pushing into you.

You bite your lips to keep quiet as it slips in smoothly. You swear you can feel the long vein that trails down his cock and the curve of it that hits you just right.

You hold onto the wooden counter for dear life as Sanji begins thrusting into you. One hand grips your hip, pulling you back towards him and the other runs down your back, occasionally spanking your ass to get a rise out of you.

"Such a good girl," he groans. At his words your pussy clamps around him, seems like you have a praise kink. "You like when I call you that, huh?" Sanji asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Yes, Sanji" you moan out, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of your boyfriend.

Sanji straightens back up and continues to thrust into you. Steady and deep. He focuses on the mess between your legs as a white ring forms at his base whenever he pushes back into you.

Shamelessly he grabs your ass, spreading it to see how your pussy chokes him out and how your walls drag each time he pulls out.

The height difference between the two of you is inconvenient. You're on your tippy toes as he grabs your hips to pull you impossibly closer.

You and Sanji are lost in the moment, concentrating on each other. So much so neither notices how Zoro walks into the kitchen. Quiet as a mouse, he walks around the counter until he's across from you.

You're a sight for sore eyes as your tits bounce with each of Sanjis strong thrusts. He'd come for an after dinner snack before heading to bed. He figured you'd be here with the waiter since he wasn't back in their shared cabin.

Sanji doesn't say anything, more than used to Zoro's presence by now. Zoro grabs the bowl of left over mousse and dips a finger in to taste it, liking it he grabs a spoon and leans back to watch.

"Is the waiter making you feel good?" He asks as he takes a spoonful of dessert. Sanji almost growls at the name but the feel of you choking his cock quiets him down.

You gasp at the sound of his voice. You had your eyes closed and as you open them you see Zoro, staring intently at you. You nod before speaking, "Fucking me nice and deep."

"You've gotten better at keeping quiet, baby," Zoro praises you, leaving the now empty bowl behind. He leans over the counter on his elbows, he's eye to eye with you now. "If I didn't know any better, I would have no idea of what's going on here."

"You really think now's a good time to have a conversation, mate?" Sanji glares at him. Zoro's presence causes him to snap his hips harder against yours. Your body jostles harder against the counter.

"Why not? Her mouth is free," Zoro shrugs, returning his gaze to his pretty girlfriend who is trying her hardest to keep quiet with the change of pace. "But I can leave if that's what you want."

"No!" You exclaim, extending your hand out to him to take. Zoro smirks at the blonde, grabbing your hand and cleaning the bead of sweat forming on your forehead.

"Whatever," Sanji mutters under his breath.

Your quietness doesn't last seeing as soon as Sanji touches your clit you yelp and tighten your hold on Zoro's hand.

"There she is," Zoro smirks at the noise you make. The harder Sanji thrusts and the more he touches your clit the louder your noises get.

"Sanji. Zoro." You whine, scrunching your eyes closed focusing on that knot settling deep in you.

"Spoke too soon. Want to help her out, Zoro?" Sanji grunts. He's not going to last much longer now. He feels the pressure coming to it's limit.

Zoro comes closer to you and kisses you. It's nearly not enough to keep you quiet though as your moans leak in between each kiss. Your fingers come up behind Zoro's neck, deepening the kiss as you feel your toes curling in anticipation.

Soon Sanji's thrusts become erratic and once he feels your walls clenching around him as you cum, it's over for him. He stills inside of you, shooting his load. Sanji helps you ride out your orgasm, circling your clit gently till you push him back.

There's a moment where you're slumped on the counter, forehead pressed against Zoro's. Sanji is inside of you not moving, his fingers caressing up and down your back. Your pussy spasms around his softening cock every so often.

Only when you attempt to straighten up does he pull out and helps you pull up your panties and shorts, seeing you like the mess that comes afterwards.

Sanji tucks himself back into his trousers and buttons up his wrinkled shirt, tucking it in as if nothing happened. Wrapping his arm around your waist Sanji kisses your temple and whispers another praise in your ear.

The two men exchange looks and smile as you lean tiredly against the blonde. The arrangement you three have is unorthodox but it is convenient. You make good use of your time giving them both the attention and affection they need.

[alexthebordercollie]

I'm Here

“I've got you buddy.” Ford reassured. Huffing softly as he shifted Fiddleford's weight onto one arm. “You're gonna be fine.” Fidds was in no condition to walk. Ford had carried him all the way back to the cabin. 

Fiddleford yelped and whimpered fearfully when he felt Ford's other hand leave his body. Tightening his death grip around Ford's neck. “It's alright. I'm not going to drop you.” Ford reassured. He hoisted Fidds up a bit over his shoulder and did his best to unlock the door as quickly as he could. Pushing it open with his boot once he heard the click of the knob. He brought his hand to Fidd's back. Keys still hooked in his fingers as he rubbed little circles into Fidd's shirt.

“I've got you.” He breathed.

Fiddleford hugged Ford like his life depended on it. Shivering violently in his arms. His clothes torn, battered, bruised, filled with quills Ford desperately needed to remove. All of that paled in concern compared to the horrified thousand-yard stare Ford had been greeted with once the dust had settled. Fidds eyes were closed now. That seemed like an improvement. Maybe. At least Ford hoped it was.

He shuffled inside with the temporal displacement hyperdrive they needed slung over his other shoulder. The blasted thing better work. Its sudden alarm nearly got them killed. Not to mention all the supplies they lost. Left behind in the woods while Ford wrestled his friend back from that cursed beast. Oh well, what's done was done. They both made it home in one piece they got what they needed out of their expedition. A sloppy victory but a victory nonetheless. 

Ford carried Fidds upstairs to his room where he had the supplies he needed to a magic cure that should hopefully work for the gremloblin venom. At least he hope so. He knew less about this creature than he’d like and didn’t yet know the full effects of its toxins.

He gingerly draped Fiddlford across the couch Ford called his bed. “Fidds, I need you to let go.” He pleaded gently as Fiddleford clawed at his shoulders. Refusing to let go of his coat.

“No, no, no, no, no-” Fiddleford kept mumbling incoherently. He opened his eyes again. Looking up at Ford with a manic pain and desperation that felt like a dagger to the heart. His eyes still glowing faintly.

“Fiddleford, please.” Ford reiterated gently. Placing a hand over one of Fidds. “I need to go get the first aid kit.” And set the drive down, and close the door.

Fiddleford was still shaking. His chest heaved as he started back at Ford. His intense gaze seemed to scan Ford's eyes for something before he finally relented. Loosening his grip on Ford's coat enough for him to escape.

Ford wasn't sure what Fiddleford was looking for but he was glad he could provide it. Whatever it was. “I'll be right back.” He promised.

He slipped the hyperdrive off his shoulder and let it thunk heavily onto the floor. Flexing his aching shoulder once the weight was off him. He’d had to swipe a bit of rope from the barn they had crashed into so he could strap the piece of machinery to himself for the walk back. All in all, he wasn’t carrying much more weight than the travel supplies they had left with but the load hit differently after the day he’d had.

“Stay right there. I’ll only be gone a second.” Ford stressed before rushing out.

Fiddleford didn’t look keen on moving anytime soon. Curling up and facing away from him. Burring his face in the back of the futon and muttering incoherently to himself. That was probably not a good sign. None of this was good.

Ford rushed downstairs to slam the door shut and lock it before hurrying to the bathroom for first aid supplies. He kept splints and plaster on hand thankfully for breaks. Fiddelford’s arm was in bad shape. It had broken in the fall and the injury had only grown more obvious on the walk home as the bruises set in. Not that it stopped Fiddelford from gripping Ford like a drowning man at sea. The strain probably hadn’t done wonderful things for his injuries.

Ford grabbed what he needed and hurried back upstairs to his room. “Alright, let’s get you fixed up.” He tried to reassure his friend. Ford placed the first aid supplies on the end table by the couch and set to work.

The room was less a bedroom and more a study. Ford didn’t care much. He didn’t mind what he slept on and when he realized he’d invited Fiddleford over and forgotten to secure a proper bed for him he simply gave his old bedroom to Fidds. He barely used it anyway and his study worked just as well. Moreover, his study was filled with all manner of artifacts and samples Ford had collected. Hopefully, something in here could treat any lingering effects of the venom. 

Ford started first with removing the quills. Gently rolling Fiddleford back onto his back as he started pulling the quills out one by one. They had little hooked barbs on the end like a porcupine. Removing them made Fidds wince every time.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Ford kept reiterating everything Fiddleford flinched from his touch. 

Fidds skin was swollen and discolored from the quills. Every one oozed a mix of blood and puss on removal that Ford drained and cleaned with alcohol wipes. He’s scrubbed his hands thoroughly in the sink but still wore gloves just to be safe. The pinky kept threatening to rip on him from having two digits squeezed into it but there wasn’t much that could be done for it. He needed disposable gloves for this. He’d have to work on making his own latex gloves in the future.

Ford breathed a sigh of relief once the final quill was removed. Fidds was still shaking but seemed a little calmer. Still covered welts from the quills. Not to mention the mass of swollen blue and purple that had spread up his right arm from the break. It wasn’t the worst break Ford had ever seen, but still a nasty one. Stanley took the prize for that one. The memory of his brother’s tiba peeking out from the mass of mangled meat that was once his leg would haunt him forever. Pa made sure to take the cost of that hospital visit out of his hide. Ford learned a lot patching up his brother after that. He didn’t need hospitals. He could handle things himself. 

Ford got up to go search through his supplies. Rifling through drawers and cabinets for every healing tonic he knew of. He didn’t have anything that could mend a broken bone sadly but he did have some purifying water from a magical glave he’d found not long after his arrival in Gravity Falls. Unfortunately, the space disintegrated after he left and allegedly would only appear to a chosen few once in a lifetime. He was told this water could cure any poison though Ford had never tested it. He had a limited supply and couldn’t risk wasting it. 

He heard Fiddleford whimper softly behind him and turned back to look at his friend’s pale horrified expression. He had no idea what the grembloblin venom would do to him and the welts were turning a very concerning and sickly green color. If there was ever a time to use his magic cure it was now.

“Here, here, I’m back.” Ford reassured as he returned to the couch. He knelt back down on the floor again and snapped his fingers near Fiddleford’s face to try and get his attention. Trying to get his friend to look at him and show some sign of lucid thought.

Fiddleford choked like he was trying not to cry but didn’t turn his eyes. Only screwed them shut and gripped his chest. He was sweating despite feeling cold to the touch.

“It’s ok. This should help.” Ford assured him anyway. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll get you some painkillers once we’re done.” He promised.

Seeing the extent of the wounds Ford decided the best way to apply the cure was to soak strips of gauze in it and wrap Fiddlefords arms in them. Taking great care to pace out the healing water evenly and trying not to use more than he needed. Even still it took up the whole bottle. Thankfully the green pallor seemed to subside a bit as Ford worked. The swelling reduced. That was good. At least something was going right. Fiddleford’s clammy shivering seemed to improve as well. Thank god.

“Almost done.” Ford still got no clear responses from Fiddleford but he liked to think it helped at least a little. Letting his friend know how much there was left to go. 

He took great care when setting and casting Fidds broken arm. Trying his best not to cause any more pain than necessary. That said Fiddleford still seemed oddly numb to the pain. It was the only reason Ford didn’t give him the medication upfront. Fidds reactions were muted enough as is and he needed to know if he was hurting him. Pain was a useful tool for measuring the damage and identifying any less obvious wounds. Ford felt ashamed he was a little relieved to see Fidds hiss in pain as his bones were set. He didn’t like seeing him hurt but at least it was a natural reaction.  

“There, there we go, we’re done.” Ford held up his empty hands to show Fidds once the cast was set. Fidds still didn’t look at him or give any indication he processed what Ford was saying. Ford desperately wanted some kind of acknowledgment from his best friend. Even if it was just to yell at him for putting Fiddlford in danger in the first place. Literally, anything would be better than this.

Still, he steadied himself and peeled off his rubber gloves. He found his hands smeared with blood. He hadn’t even noticed his own wounds until now. Ford had cut up his hands shoving through thick brambles in pursuit of the gremloblin. More than his hands. His clothes were torn and bloodstained in places. All minor injuries though. He probably has some bruises from the crash but he wasn’t too concerned with them. He was overheated and sweating through his shirt though. He chucked his coat on the side table and peeled off his sweater vest and button down. Fanning himself briefly with his undershirt to try and cool off.

“Ok, aspirin.” Ford was talking to himself at this point. He knew Fidds wasn’t listening. At least talking helped him keep his thoughts clear. Ford got up to head back down to the bathroom for aspirin and a glass of water. Fiddleford might have been a bit numb now but he would be wanting those painkillers later once the shock wore off.

Ford was about to leave when he felt a tug on his pant leg. “NO! PLEASE!” 

Ford’s blood ran cold. He looked back at Fidds in stunned shock.

Fidds eyes were welling up with tears. Gripping Ford’s clothes with his good hand. “Please don’t go.” He begged. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” There was so much pain and desperation in his voice. Ford had never heard his friend sound so broken.

His heart ached. He pointed timidly towards the door. “Asprin.” He repeatedly meekly. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Please don’t leave me again.” Fiddleford choked. His voice cracking from the strain of some overwhelming fear. Something primal and beyond what Ford had ever seen.

“I-I won’t.” Ford promised. He returned to the couch and knelt down beside it. He took Fidds hands in his and tried to comfort him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised. He wasn’t much for comfort. He was never very good at it. Baring Stanley most people didn’t seem to take kindly to anything he had to say when tears were involved. Crying people scared him. Emotions were messy and complicated and he didn’t know what to do with them. Studying psychology could only get him so far.

Fidds was crying now. Some kind of dam had burst and he was properly crying. Gasping wheezing sobs. Dripping with saline and mucus. Redfaced as loud unflattering sounds escaped him.

Ford didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix this. Poison he could cure, broken bones he could set. He didn’t know how to mend a broken soul.

“It’s ok.” Ford said it though he wasn’t confident he believed it. He hoped if he said it enough he could convince the both of them it was true. Whatever this emotional outburst was it was a side effect of the gremloblin. It would pass. Fidds just needed time to rest, to recover. He’d be alright. Ford had to keep telling himself that.

Ford lifted Fidd upright on the couch and crawled into the seat beside him. Supporting his friend by his shoulders as the wailing man struggled to hold himself upright.

“I’ve got you.” Ford reassured him. “I’m here.”

Ford stretched out on the narrow futon and pulled Fidds over top of him. Letting him rest on his chest and soak his shirt in his tears. He wrapped his arms around his friend protectively. Holding him close and resting his chin atop Fidds head. “I’m here.” He repeated. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Ford took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Focusing on his heartbeat and slowing it to a crawl. He held Fidds head, gently pressing his ear to his chest. Hoping the slow thump of his heart and the even rise and fall of his breathing would help soothe Fiddleford. It was a simple animalistic strategy but it was the only thing Ford could think to do. Slowly Fiddleford’s sobs began to wane. The shaking calmed. His tense body grew limp as he was lulled to sleep. 

Ford could feel the fatigue sinking into his bones as Fiddleford relaxed. He felt his own stress unwind. Felt the ache of his bruises and the sting of thorns. The rope burn on his shoulder. The cramping muscle pains of an overtaxed body. With Fiddleford sleeping on top of him it didn’t take long for Ford to follow suit.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Open Your Heart-Ryoshu X Reader

This is, up to this point, what I would consider my best work. I've been sitting on it for a while due to its content involving Ryoshu cutting the reader open, but I feel like this needs to see the light of day for the Ryoshu lovers in the Limbus fandom.

I do hope you enjoy!

Also, a special thanks to @tragedy-of-commons without Gwen's pushing I probably would've never written this and kept it in my head till the end of my days.

Blood as paint, flesh as clay, muscle and sinew as binding and bone to hold it all together.

This is how Ryoshu views the bodies of the things that live.

Her body, your body, the body of every single stranger on the street, she viewed them all the same.

However, there were two, small distinctions between them and you.

The first distinction, is that the art she could make out of you, would be hers and only hers.

The second distinction is that she would make sure you lived.

This second distinction could be considered a sort of limit on her art, though if anyone said that they would find that their life would only last for as long as it took for Ryoshu’s blade to cleave them in half.

To her, it wasn’t a limit, it was a challenge.

Sure, she could easily make you into an art piece like all of her others.

However, what would be the point of treating you like all the others if you weren’t?

No, even Ryoshu had to admit that you were special, that you were a muse to her.

And so, as she sat on your midsection while the anesthesia worked its magic, desperately waiting for when she could finally start the process of slowly splitting your skin with a scalpel, she had to remind herself to be gentle, to remind herself to be patient.

She could’ve easily done this without the anesthesia, but the prospect of you going into shock was too much of a risk in her eyes.

It was when this thought crossed her mind, that she noticed that your eyes were looking directly into hers.

They were hazy, unfocused, and yet, she knew that she held your full attention.

Ryoshu smirked around her cigarette as she leaned down, placing her hands beside your head.

You knew just how to flatter her.

“P.R.E.T.T.Y.” Ryoshu declared, her eyes practically glowing as her hair fell like a curtain around her face, only lit by the light of her burning cigarette.

“Pleasurable Rapture, Eyes Tell Tales Y’know.” your mind filled in automatically right before Ryoshu shifted her weight onto one arm and placed her other hand over your eyes before closing them.

A few seconds later, Ryoshu knew that you were in the land of dreams.

Ryoshu let out a puff of smoke as an involuntary shudder took over her body.

She could feel your blood under your skin, she could tell exactly where she could cut to end your life in only a few seconds.

It would be so incredibly easy, barely even an inconvenience.

Instead, she picked up the razor sharp scalpel with a firm hand before gently placing it to the top of your sternum.

Then, the dark haired woman let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

Slowly, carefully, lovingly, she dragged the blade down your chest, through skin, flesh, and muscle and to the bottom of your ribcage, a river of red following in its path.

Idly, she wondered if your blood was closer in hue to crimson, rust, or cadmium as a smile crawled across her face.

Either way, this hue seemed exceptionally beautiful to her as she placed the scalpel back into the tray.

Next, she grasped the clamps to spread open your skin and reveal unto her the last barrier for her to pass in order for her to reach her prize.

Your ribcage.

Gently, the artist placed her hand upon the bone, able to feel the thrum of your heartbeat through it.

The whisper at the back of her mind telling her to rip the rest of you open with her bare hands, as if you were a present on christmas day, was growing louder and louder, becoming a scream that reverberated within her skull.

Instead, Ryoshu reached to the side and grasped the electric bonesaw.

Usually, she would prefer to use a manual one if she even needed to, after all, the vast majority of her canvases fell to pieces with only a few quick strokes and slashes of her brush.

However, just because it was you, she decided she would be a little more gentle.

She flicked the switch, and within a few short seconds, the blade began to spin as an electric whirring filled Ryoshu’s ears.

Then, the electric whirring was replaced by the sound of a machine’s blade cutting through bone.

It was not… wholly unpleasant to Ryoshu’s ears, though she did much prefer the tactile feel of a manual.

She always was old fashioned when it came to her brushes, and she much preferred natural paints.

It was simply one of many personality quirks she had and by far it was the most normal of them.

“…And yet, you fell for me like a fool.” Ryoshu whispered as she gently removed the top of your ribcage, dropping her beloved SANGRIA for just this moment, something she had done precious few times before this moment.

With care that was uncharacteristic of the black haired artist, she placed the opening to the cage that had been guarding what she had sought upon a metal tray to the side.

Ryoshu’s hands shook as she burned the image before her into her mind.

A living subject, someone who had willingly become a work of her art was below her.

She could see your lungs expand and contract, she could see the striations on each rib she cut, she could point out the bone marrow, she could easily reach out and touch the countless veins that ran throughout your body and connected to her prize, and finally, she could well and truly grasp the object of her desires, your heart, in her hands if she so wished.

And so, that is exactly what she did, wrapping her hands with a delicate touch only reserved for the things most important to her.

She could feel your heart pulse and beat in her palms, sending blood to every part of your body as her own heart forced a small amount of blood to her own face, dusting her face with red red.

She knew better than almost anyone how easy it would be to crush the thing responsible for giving you life in the palm of her hands, to simply apply a little bit too much pressure and turn the fist sized organ to pulp.

And so, she let out a puff of smoke, and squeezed your heart gently as a smirk crossed her face and an idea crawled to the forefront of her mind.

She removed her hands, placing them on either side of you as she leaned down until she was just above the organ before shifting her weight once more, allowing her to use her free hand to hold her hair back.

Then, she leaned down…

And planted a kiss directly onto your heart.

Ryoshu smiled like mad, feeling your blood on her lips as she pulled herself up and looked at your fully revealed form one last time before she put you back together again.

She took her time, ensuring that she left everything as it was.

Well, almost everything.

All Artists need to leave their signatures somewhere after all.

And so, in addition to the scar you would carry even with the assistance of the second best medicine Ryoshu’s money could buy that would have you back to 100% in only a month or so, Ryoushu put her name on you, or more specifically, in you.

Right in the center of your sternum and close to your heart, was her name, carved into your bone.

[raayllum]

Right in front of our faces

So I've been thinking about self-eating a lot. Not only because it's weirdly on brand with everything in Claudia's arc (drinking her own blood, treating her own body basically as dark magic parts just for other people's metaphorical consumption, at least in her head, rather than for her own desires) but also because... Why, y'know? Why have this be a thing, why reserve it for the third arc, an arc wherein with the Archdragons gone Aaravos' main goal will be to dismantle the Cosmic Council?

In some ways, I think I was so focused on Aaravos' side of things—the easiest way to get revenge on the Stars (since they don't care about the destruction of their creation, not really, according to him) would be to kill them but he, for whatever reason, cannot do that—that I was missing the obvious other side of things.

Aaravos asks in 7x08, "Are you watching?" but wouldn't it be really bad for him if they were? What is stopping the Cosmic Council from transporting Aaravos to the same place they took Leola and permanently killing him, since permanently killing a Startouch elf is something we know the Cosmic Council, uniquely, can do? He couldn't stop them before when he was more powerful than he is now as a 'Fallen' Star.

Aaravos' plan hinges on eventually getting the Stars' attention, and they are presumably still at their full power, just no longer involved with Xadia. He is seemingly never concerned, even when making the choice to live and plot against them, that the Stars would just kill him the way they did with Leola.

Or maybe, perhaps, he already has a reason that they can't.

As he collapses in tears at Leola's trial, Aaravos' chest star is complete and right side up. After, presumably, 100 years of weeping, his star is inverted and the centre piece is missing when the Merciful One comes to see him.

The reason I brought up self-eating is because we see it's used as a form of chasing immortality, even beyond what Kim'Dael does. I've long speculated that Aaravos purposefully carved out his chest piece, whether to place it in something or to help create dark magic. He may not have done anything with it, even if it was on purpose, but I wonder... if he ate it, in order to ensure that the Cosmic Council couldn't kill him.

This is especially noteworthy since from what we see of Leola's trial, her destructive glow begins in her chest star and then spreads to her fingers, and the destruction of Aaravos' mortal form is radically different.

This doesn't really make sense. Leola was destroyed while in her mortal form, given that moments before she'd been living and interacting with things on earth, just like her father. Aaravos' destruction stems from the bite mark at first, but then begins elsewhere that's entirely separate (the foot) and never broaches the hands. Leola becomes entirely light, while Aaravos' body seems to be shattered, and does bear a striking resemblance to how dark!Callum crumbles in the 2x08 dark magic nightmares.

Furthermore, when Leola is killed and her star energy is sent down (for lack of a better description), we do see a symbol of a star being inverted, despite that not being a part of her character design.

We also know that Aaravos' body being destroyed differently in 7x09 isn't due to dark magic use, at least not in terms of his body. As of season seven, he hadn't done any dark magic in his new body, which is a soft reset. However, we also know that dark magic affects your soul/spirit (6x06) which would, presumably, be the same no matter the body in this case. Therefore, the reason Aaravos' body might've crumbled (beyond differences in execution style) might be because of the dark magic he's used that created a permanent hole in his spirit/self, and one that Leola, of course did not have.

I also think some of this in my head is connecting to the ideas of sacrifice. Other characters, especially parents, can sacrifice themselves in TDP canon in hopes of a better future for their children / the next generation (the three queens, the archdragons, Harrow, etc). Aaravos divorcing himself from the ability to sacrifice himself, especially after thousands of years with no daughter to speak of (until Claudia, but on her in a second), purposefully robs himself from the ability to make a meaningful contribution to the cycle. Death, permanent death, provides meaning and consequence, both things he's seemingly devoid of.

Sacrificing his ability to die (his heart) and at least, in theory, reunite with his daughter / no longer exist without her to ensure he can 'avenge' her is a hell of a thing, after all. And on a certain level, that seems like his endgame goal regardless. Even if all the above speculation is untrue and wily, unless he can execute himself, in destroying/killing (?) all the other Startouch elves, he will be alone and eternal... forever, with no way out, carrying only the pain of his child's death and withering satisfaction at punishing her murderers, unless he decided to eventually change.

Like I said: a hell of a thing.

[eustasskidagenda]

Hi! I love your writing! Can I ask some headcanons with Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Law et Luffy going to the beach with their S/O, please?? Tysm!

Hello sweet anon! Thank you for requesting, it was fun to write. Hope it will match your expectations ☆

☆ Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy & Law going to the beach with their s/o

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, Kid is cursing but I guess no one is surprised, Kid is a savage, really vague mention of sex for Sanji, slight cursing for Zoro + mention of alcohol,

WC : 2,3k

Kid

Heavy stomps, mumbling curses, regular sighs and grunts full of irritation. Yep. It was your idea to go to the beach. Kid would never go to the beach by himself because he hates all the screaming children and the sand between his toes. And, the sun could ruin his make-up. So he would act all grumpy, wondering what he has done to end up in such a situation. 

"Goddamn, y/n, come back, you didn't put your sunscreen" Of course Kid thinks about his skin all the damn time, he's such a beauty-influencer when it comes to make-up and skin care. If you neglect to apply sunscreen to your body, he will bark at you, grab you by the wrist, and do all the work himself. And then, you'll have to help him, especially when it comes to applying sunscreen to his back. He won't let you know he loves when you run your hands down his back and along his always tensed shoulders. 

"I've seen this place before you, fuck off!" While planting violently your parasol on the ground, barking to the poor innocent guy who tried to set his stuff at the place Kid noticed in first. "It's my beach."

He's so possessive with everything, help.

Actually, Kid likes one thing about the beach: he can brag about his big man boobies. No shirt, just his glorious bare, toned chest. Every time someone looks at him with jealousy or admiration, he feels so proud; his ego is never satisfied with this. He's perfectly aware of how shaped his torso is, and he's really proud of it. 

Every time someone looks at your body, he feels really pleased with himself. Even if they try, they won't be able to have you. But on the flip side, he's also upset when he realizes that everyone can see your beautiful shapes. His arm would be wrapped around your waist. All. The. Time. 

Kid being Kid, he would smash all the sandcastle made by the children. Prepare yourself to get in trouble with all the mad parents around there, while their children are crying because "the big scary man told me I'm a piece of shit who don't even know how to build a sandcastle" You better watch Kid tightly before he stuffs their mouths with some sand to make them shut up.

"Come on Kid, it's just a child." 

If you try beach sports, he will make everything a competition. Avoid playing volley beach with him, because if you team up and lose, he will smash the ball into the winner's face. "Now who's the loser?" 

If someone tries to sell him an ice cream, he would scowls madly. Does he look like someone licking some fucking ice balls full of sugar? Ugh. It's so ridiculous. 

He doesn't wear armbands because he thinks he's too good for them. "I don't care if I can't swim, I won't use those damn armbands." 

Honestly, Kid hates how weak he is in the water, so he would stay away from trouble. The ocean makes his voice weak, even his strength is leaving him. And, even if his eyeliner is waterproof, he doesn't want to risk ruining his make up. "I fucking hate water" 

Would end up using his DF to find some metal around and build something with it while you're swimming. It looks like he doesn't care, but secretly, he watches to make sure you're safe. And if you're drowning, then, he'll run to save you so yes, congrats, now you're drowning together. 

Luckily, Killer is not too far.

Killer deserves a break.

Sanji 

Oh, damn... going on a beach date with Sanji is not a good idea. All the women in swimsuits would overwhelm him. Sanji, as he is, wouldn't be able to handle all the women around him, even though you are the prettiest of all the people around.

But the moment you take off your clothes and replace them with your swimsuit, his eyes would be on you all the time because you're the most mesmerizing person in the whole universe. 

He's so proud to introduce you as his s/o to absolutely everyone, yes, even that one person sleeping peacefully under their parasol. "Have you seen how beautiful y/n is?" 

Of course, he would help you apply sunscreen to your skin. Enjoy the massage because his hands are so heavenly smooth and divine. He would clearly take advantage of the situation to place some soft kisses along your collarbone, shoulders, neck, jugular, and down your spines. 

It's clear that Sanji brought his own food to the beach. You can enjoy fresh drinks, ice cream, waffles, cakes, fresh salads, and juicy fruits just for you. He wouldn't let you buy some ice cream from the trader because it's probably disgusting, full of sugar and chemicals. Your body is a temple and cannot be contaminated by non-premium quality food. 

He's probably causing the parents to be angry because he's smoking. But Sanji is nice, so if it was asked politely, he wouldn't mind stubouting his cigarette. 

While you're tanning under the parasol, Sanji is probably laying next to you, with a book explaining all the fish he could buy in the town. 

If you decide to go swimming, of course, he's going with you. As the kind person he's, he wants to make sure you're safe, and if you uncomfortable with your body, he wouldn't mind using his own body as a shield, so no one but he can look at you. 

He's a pure romantic, so prepare yourself for some lovely hugs in the water, with him holding you tight and his hands roaming all over your wet skin. Sweet kisses on your neck. He's not against taking things further, but he's romantic and all the screaming children are ruining the mood. But during the night... yes, he's definitely not against swimming at midnight. 

And if he finds some ugly, green, gummy seaweeds, then, he'll take them back to the Sunny. "Marimo, don't let your children alone at the beach."

Zoro

"Oi, y/n, where are you?"

Well, have you already seen Finding Nemo? Remember about Marlin always asking "HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON?" Now, you're Marlin and Zoro is your Nemo. 

Do not leave him alone for more than two seconds. Do not leave him buying ice cream for the two of you. Otherwise, the date is ruined. The only thing you will do is ask everyone 'Have you seen a big man with big boobs and green hair?' 

Maybe he'll find the one piece before the end of the day.

"I wasn't lost, your indications weren't clear." 

Zoro's obliviousness means you need to pay close attention to him. Stay close to him and everything will be okay. He's in good shape, so people are probably looking at him with admiration, jealousy, or whatever thoughts come to mind. But he doesn't give a damn, and is probably thinking people are looking at you because you're mesmerizing in your swimsuit. 

He doesn't care about the people wearing swimsuits around him. It's not an event for him. "I won't nose bleed like this shitty twirled-brow." 

He thinks the beach is a good opportunity to train himself. While you're relaxing under the parasol, he's training in the sun. Burpees, push-ups, and even some yoga are used to work his breathing and stability. 

Once he's done, he's all sweaty and wants to swim a bit. If you don't follow him, he'll be swimming until he finds a new island. 

If you're too lazy to swim, he'd be okay with carrying you. If a jellyfish tries to bite your thigh, then, the poor creature is doomed and would end up as a dinner for the crew when you'll get back to the Sunny.

He prefers alcohol over ice cream, of course. It's the best thing to enjoy after swimming and training. While he's drinking, he likes when you rest your head against his chest. On the other hand, he's a bit flustered because Zoro cares about his privacy. But you're too cute, he can't push you away. 

Arms wrapped around your waist while you sleep together. Perfect date for Zoro: training and restlessness. No one would dare trying to steal your stuff because Zoro is used to standing guard on the Sunny, so he would react really quickly. 

At the end of the day, he got the biggest sunburn ever because he forgot to apply sunscreen. Poor Zoro.

Luffy

It's like going to the beach with your overly excited dog. 

He's yelling excitedly, jumping everywhere, laughing loudly, and oh, good luck, he's already running away. You tried to catch his wrist, but it just stretches his arm beyond its limits. Good luck in finding him. 

Well, honestly, if you want to find Luffy, just try to figure out where the food is. He's probably eating some waffles and ice cream, or more precisely, emptying all the stands of their food. 

"Oh Y/N, you're here?" He speaks with his mouth full, obviously. 

Luffy is selfish with food, but he would let you have the last waffle because he loves to see you smile. 

As Zoro, he doesn't give a damn about people in swimsuits. 

If a child has a better rubber ring than him, he's sad. "Y/N, we need to buy a better one! What about this one?" While displaying an extravagant beetle rubber.

He's so happy, with it. Prepare yourself to pull him out the water because while he's watching to find some fish or play with some seaweeds, he would end up falling overboard like the overexcited child he's. 

But drowning wouldn't destroy his joy. Be ready for the sandcastle episode after the rubber ring one. He wants to build the best one. But have you seen his nonexistent artistic skills? His creations wouldn't look great, that's all we can tell. Please, help him building a pretty sandcastle, he's so sad. Poor baby.

"Don't get a sunburn, y/n." While lending you his straw hat. 

"Y/N, have you seen those crabs? Y/N, have you seen how funny this seaweed is? Y/N, have you seen this stone? Oh, Y/N, this cloud looks like Zoro, don't you think?" 

He wants to catch all the crabs and winkles he can find. And would probably end up organizing a crab fight. If his favorite one loses, then the poor baby will be sad again. He's so fluffy when he pouts.

He is eager to try and do everything with you. So you better follow him, because going to the beach with Luffy means you'll never be able to rest peacefully under the parasol. He's too energized to sleep peacefully. 

And if you're sleeping, he would bury you under the sand, so when you wake up, your body is totally covered up, the only thing you can do is moving your toes and head while Luffy laughs loudly and proudly. His laugh is so endearing, you can't be angry with him.

"Gum-Gum… ice-cream stolen" 

Prepare to run away from the guy who is mad at him.

Overall? Not relaxing at all, but funny as hell.

Law

If Luffy is like an overexcited dog, Law is like a cat forced to bathe. Have you already tried bathing a cat? Do you end up with scratches? It's nothing compared to Law.

"Bepo, don't sharpen your claws on the deck!" "What? But it's not me. It's Law, Y/N decided to bring him to the beach. They had to drag him to the ground. 

Yes, Law probably hates the beach. It's a noisy place with noisy people, the food smells bad, the children are annoying, and the sand is irritating. And please, the sea is like the toilet for the fish and all those disgusting people. He's so pissed off to be here. 

"Why me, Y/N-ya?"

"Aren't you happy? The sun is beautiful today! You need to take some breaks from your work." 

His sole response would be an annoyed scowl. 

Ain't no way for him to wear a swimsuit. He's conserving all his clothing, even the hat. And he's standing under the parasol with his arms crossed. All the people around are probably avoiding him, and that's for the best because a 'room, shambles' could happen really fast if they dare to make a comment about his non-appropriate clothes. 

Law would remind you to apply sunscreen on a regular basis.  And he wouldn't mind applying it himself. He loves the feeling of your skin against his palms, it feels like heaven. 

He would remind you to drink water frequently. And to wet your neck before swimming. Certainly, he's watching closely the entire time. He may be mad, but he cares about you. Prepare yourself to have a shadow following you everywhere. If you're too far from him, he'll use his DF to bring you back to him.

"Please, help me, my child needs a doctor!" He's annoyed as hell. Even at the beach, work is still pursuing him. Of course, if someone asked for a doctor, he would help. He's frustrated because he can't take care of someone and keep an eye on you at the same time.

If you give him onigiri, he will look like a child: pouting while eating silently. 

"Y/n-ya, don't touch this, it's a toxic seaweed.", "y/n-ya, come here, you have to stay hydrated."

He would lend you his own hat if you forgot yours, while he's standing under the parasol. "Do not lose my hat." 

No swimming for him. He'll stay away from the cursed water. Just like Kid, ain't no way for him to wear armbands. And if you Try to throw some water on his face, he would look like a wet cat: shocked and angry. Beware, he yowls.

Overall? You had fun. And even if Law acts annoyed all the time, secretly, he would love to have a break day with you.  On his desk, he would keep the beautiful shell you found on the beach and give it to him.

[arminthada]

if you're hoping for joe 2.0 to get his 'revenge' in the second half of the series...

warning: mild novel spoilers (but also not really because i'm just discussing things that have been shown in the trailer)

i really think you should either drop the series or give up the hopes of a satisfying makjang revenge storyline in my stand-in instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. because that simply isn't the story that my stand-in is trying to tell.

so what is my stand-in about really?

well, for me i think its a romance tragicomedy drama about an idiotic scum male lead losing the person he loves most because of his own arrogance and refusal to listen to his heart and the series of unfortunate events that happened consequently for our protagonist who was living a peaceful and quiet life as a stunt actor before the scum male lead entered his life.

joe 2.0 and his approach to life

i've mentioned it twice now that one of my favorite traits of joe/zhou xiang is that kindness in his strength where even if he can be choose to be mean or cruel, he simply doesn't because he has such a soft heart and he's weak to see others in pain (joe is my fellow enfp people pleaser okay) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ which is why even in his 2.0 life, you won't get to see joe turning 180 degree and going around to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him like it's some makjang kdrama.

and while that seems like it could be fun, i think the reason why i loved professional body double (my stand-in novel) so much in the first place is because that very distinction between joe and other rebirth/second chance at life protagonists that you often see in revenge kdramas/cdramas/thai lakorns.

logically, if my stand-in was a 24-episode one31 lakorn/thai soap opera, joe would be full of hatred and burning rage after his rebirth and started his intricated revenge plot while still falling in love with ming whom he should hate the most.

and yet he isn't (or at least it seems to me so far).

if you read the lyrics 'Die For You' - the opening ost of my stand-in, i think you can have a good guess of what the second half of the story will be like.

Even running away to death can't help. If my heart had chosen to stop at you I'll have to surrender with the confusion I feel. To come back to the same old place. Even if I have to die, disappear and then be reborn But the love is still buried deep inside, even if it's been shattered into pieces Even if my life ends, I can't stop my heart from calling out to you Because this whole body, life, spirit It is yours only, for all eternity.

and even from the trailer of my stand-in, you can tell that joe 2.0 has a lot of internal conflicting feelings about whether he could trust ming again after the betrayal he faced in his 1.0 life. and i feel like essentially the journey of ming proving to joe 2.0 that he really does love joe is very much the central plot in the second half part of the story.

so i'd like to take this part to note how well the series has done to adapt the novel so far. i think a good adapted change they've made is this early realization of feelings for ming in the joe 1.0 timeline. i do think the novel made him realized his feelings a little bit later but my stand-in did well to show within ep.3 what happiness could have looked like for joe 1.0 and ming and i think it rationalizes a bit more more for why joe 2.0 would still have feelings for ming 'buried deep inside' even when he's been badly hurt the first time around. and reading the story i've always found it interesting that they took this route to focus on the re-entangled complex relationship between mingjoe rather than going for a joe-centric revenge makjang plot (i swear if this was your typical thai lakorn, joe would seduce ming while planning to take down his whole family or something).

of course, that's not to dismiss that there's a lot of character growth for joe in the second half of the story, especially in his building of self-confidence, self-worth, the ability to put himself first and the fight for his own happiness above all. but like i've mentioned above, his growth journey is not at the expense of a drastic personality change in regards to the kind hearted joe we saw in his 1.0 life. instead, we get kind hearted joe 2.0 who quickly adapts to his new life and attempts to start anew while conflicted feelings resurface for him as he is pulled back into the relationships he once had.

all in all, my stand-in is still at the heart of it, a love story. perhaps, a dark romance as my friend @dragonsandphoenix would call it, but a romance nonetheless. i think that is what also makes professional body double such a compelling read too, because the progression in the feelings and complex emotions of these characters are so tightly written that it's convincing enough for me (maybe not for others though) to believe that yan ming xiu has/will always love zhou xiang (to the point ymx would probably eliminate anyone else who dared to steal zx from him). obsessive love? yes. do they both need therapy? probably. yet i still believe in their happy ending? of course.

final note/disclaimer: then again, this is just my PERSONAL opinions based on the novel and up til 3 episodes of my stand-in (which seems to be very faithful to the novel so far), who knows maybe they can anger novel fans and adapt it completely differently later on (something i sure hope they don't but we'll seeeee) ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

[romana-after-dark]

Imagine Raider!Cult!Joel...

Dub con, public sex, ritualistic sex, bukake, Tommy watches <3 gay shit ahead if you want more

We love raider Joel don't we??

So many wonderful version of him!!!

I've written a few, playing with different dynamics and I've seen sooooo many cool ideas. Such a creative and fun fandom

but imagine Joel as a raider doing pretty well for himself. He finds people respect him. He's capable, smart, calm... and handsome.

Maybe Tommy is his right hand man. Definetly the most personalable while Joel remains mysterious. He gathers a small following, mostly of men but some families. Maybe they settle somewhere, but they never stop raiding.

Thing is theres just sooooooooo many helpless people out there!!! Orphans he finds families to take care of them, and they contribute to the group in their own ways. Young men he trains so they can be raiders. Most are able to learn, to push aside that guilt in exchange for a warm bed... some simply aren't cut out for the job, and Joel tell the others they descided to leave. No goodbyes and all that.

Women depend. Many have special skills, especially older women. Medical is important, farming, clothes making etc. Hell, a handful became raiders too. Some who are younger and seem useful, Joel will play a little matchmaker. Keeping the world alive and repopulating... well he didn't exactly need a love match.

Sometimes, though, Joel would come across a young lady who was just... useless. Little to no skills, nothing of use...

That was you. He was certain he'd kill you or leave you for dead after taking everything you had... but he was merciful

Joel offered you a choice. You coul come with him, join the small group of women in his home. You would be used as stress relief for him and sometimes the other men if he felt they deserved it or needed a moral boost. He assured you they wouln't partake in violence, you wouldn't end up like so many others with raiders... just be good, and you'll remain fed and warm

First he's gotta make sure you're up to standard.

But Joel doesn't just take you to the house, he had Tommy gather up the men

Joel makes sure to make it slow. Piece of clothing by piece, inspecting your body. He treats you like a lamb, deciding to buy you or not. Makes sure you're tender and clean and sensative. Makes sure the meat is right where it needs to be. He must've liked what he saw.

You're naked and bare to all the men with hungry eyes, but Joel keeps your focus and he manipulates your body to where he wants it to be.

Joel doesn't shy away from keeping his cock in full view. He doesn't care that the men see it. He wants them to see. The physical manifestation of his power.

He fucks you there, while everyone watches, stroking their cocks. Porn videos had been gone nearly 20 years, this is what they had.

Joel fucked you with no shame, chosing positions that put both you and him on full display. When he put you on your back, Joel made no attempt to cove you up. Instead, he let the men see as every thrust of of his hips made your breasts bounce.

He took your legs, grabbing you by the ankles and spreading your feet wide in the air. He wanted to make sure everyone could see how he stretched you open.

Joel invites them closer. Tommy, the boldest, reaches out to wipe a tear from your eyes. But you aren't sad, you're intoxicated, overwhelmed with thankfullness to be chosen as you cum on his cock

Joel makes sure to let everyone know you came.

After he comes inside you little hole with a growl, Joel disengages from you, stepping off the twin bed

the men swarm in around you

They all cum on your body (but not your face), when one man finishes another takes his place, coating your skin in the cream

You must've taken 30 loads when it was all done

Joel pinches your cheeks. "You belong to me now"

You couldn't be happier

This got much longer than I anitipated so uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh more to come lol. I was initially thinking Joel with a harem but then things went cray

Reblog, comment, send asks if you wanna hear about the actual harem part

if you like culty joel please check out Devotion by @noxturnalpascal !!!!

And of course, shout out to @toxicanonymity for raider Joel, which is what got me into writing dark in the first place