#my brain just feels mushy from all the busy

[rinhaler]

DEATH IS NO MORE !

you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k

As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.

You shouldn’t be here.

The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.

Is there a dress code?

That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.

The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.

You just couldn’t resist, this.

Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.

With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.

You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.

$100 for a ticket.

“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.

You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.

There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.

You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.

Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.

“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”

“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.

More like a warning.

“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.

You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.

The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.

There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.

Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.

And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.

A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.

The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.

As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.

But you scream.

Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.

Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.

Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.

There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.

He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.

“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.

“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.

It’s suffocating.

He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.

“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.

If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.

A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.

“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”

He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.

A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.

He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.

As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.

But you can’t.

Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.

“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.

“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.

“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.

“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.

He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.

You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.

He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.

“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”

“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.

“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.

He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.

Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.

“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”

“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”

“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”

“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.

“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”

“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.

But—

“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.

“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”

“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.

He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.

It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.

But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.

“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”

“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”

“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”

“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”

“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”

And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.

You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.

His arms almost cage you in.

Almost.

He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.

But you aren’t trying.

You’re just staring into his eye.

And he likes that.

“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”

“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.

“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.

He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.

You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.

Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.

“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.

Decide?

You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.

“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.

“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.

“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”

“You said you’ll win.”

He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.

“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”

“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”

“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”

“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.

You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.

But he does.

The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.

“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”

And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.

He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.

You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.

“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.

“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”

He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.

“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.

You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.

A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.

It’s art, here.

Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.

It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.

You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.

But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.

Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.

And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.

You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.

He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.

This fight… it was on a whim.

Was it just to impress you?

He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.

And why…

Why are you loving this?

You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.

If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.

Watch him forever.

You’re sick.

This is sick.

“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.

Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”

“D… Don—”

“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.

Oh, he’s been paid.

He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.

It’s his height, you realise.

It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.

“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”

“No.”

“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”

“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.

His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?

“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”

“N-No.”

“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”

You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.

“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.

“That’s none of your—”

“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”

“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.

Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.

Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.

He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.

“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”

“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.

“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”

The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.

A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.

“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”

“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.

He doesn’t respect you, though.

Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.

“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.

“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.

He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.

“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.

“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.

No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.

They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.

And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.

He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.

“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.

And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.

“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”

“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.

He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.

“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”

“Wha—?”

“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”

You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.

“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.

But he doesn’t pull anything out.

Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.

Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.

His money.

And it’s everywhere.

You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.

“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.

And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.

The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.

“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.

He's yours.

“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.

But you don’t care.

You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.

“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”

“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.

“Yes what?” he repeats.

“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”

“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”

“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.

“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”

Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.

But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.

“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”

Fuck, Megumi.

You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.

“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”

“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”

You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.

“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”

“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.

He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.

“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.

He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.

“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.

“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.

“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”

You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”

“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.

You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.

Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.

You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.

“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.

He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.

The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.

“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.

“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.

Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.

You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.

“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.

“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.

“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.

You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.

So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.

“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”

“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.

“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”

“Obviously not, Megumi.”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”

“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”

“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.

“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”

“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.

Just like the fighting.

And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.

“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.

“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”

“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.

You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.

“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.

“… love you too… bitch.”

© 2023 rinhaler

m.list | chapter two

[chiliyue-archived]

Does he fuck or make love ?

Includes; Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Kunikida, Atsushi, Nikolai, Fyodor

Tags; SMUT/NSFW, fem!reader. rough sex, biting, teasing, overstimulation, nicknames(Belladonna; Doll), pure filth

-

Fucks

How can he resist when you're his cute little Belladonna? To DAZAI, your whines are like blissful bells to his ears, each moan causing his cock to twitch just the slightest bit in your mushy walls. Each time you look away from him, his nimble fingers go to the bring your face back towards his, chin grasped firmly with his fingers- and when he isn't busy keeping your attention, the pad of his thumb is making work at your core coaxing more whimprs fall from your mouth. Hickeys and blemishes of purple dots litter around your shoulders and inner thighs, his pace was relentless but you just felt so good. Even as tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, Dazai pays little mind, he may even tease you for it- he came to recognize all your repsonses, he'll quickly become aware if anything was truly causing you discomfort. Afterall, his cock feels so warm and welcoming in your cunt, it was a wonderful opportunity to fuck you up.

" My my~ my sweet Belladonna, barely started and you're sobbing. Worry not, my darling- I'll make you feel good, just keep those pretty eyes on me alright~"

He's a little jerk that loves to see the sheer desperation in your face as you work yourself off his dick. RANPO is quite lazy and a tease at that, he'll make you work for it, laying down, hands behind his head(that or fumbling with your chest) all while your muscles strain to keep bouncing on his hard cock. He quite addicted to the sight befor him; your fucked out expression, lips glistened with drool all by your own doing. He makes you beg for it, telling him what it is you desire. Tongue clicking that you were 'simply giving up now?'But soon enough, his hands plant on your waist and he proceeds to thrust into you without any remorse. His smirk only grows at the mewls you make as his dick hits every right spot. And he adores how you prettily arch your back off the bed, arms reaching out to him for support. Even as you reach your release, his pace doesn't falter, the filthy sounds continuing to echo in the room. His mouth only adds to your torment, spewing out teases that turn your face a crimson red. Any attempts at shielding your burning cheeks is met with a gentle slap against your thigh.

" Don't coward now, Y/N~ not when your were just begging me to take over~ I must say you look adorable like this."

FYODOR loves to see you beg for his cock. He'll over stimulate you with his fingers, tongue, kneading your skin with greedy hands and he'll do this for hours. He pays little mind to your whimpers or how you feebly grabbed onto his shoulder for support. 'Tell what is it is you truly want, my dear.' He would say, lips lazily burshing agaisnt your cheek and fingers curling within your heat. At that point all you could do was babble his name incoherently, chest heaving as shivers ran down your spine at the immense pleasure. Fyodor would tut, you became so dumb with just his fingers alone, tears pricking your irises and thighs clenching together begging for more. Soon enough he'll have your legs wide open, bottoming out with just one thrust. That was in itself was enough to make you see stars, but Fyodor's hips were already setting a brutal pace slapping into you again and again and again. A smirk grew on his face as tears started to prick the corners of your eyes; seeing your fucked out expression becomes a sight that engraves itself in his brain forever, impaled and marked by him and him alone.

" You take me so well, darling. Now don't start crying, you were asking me to fuck you like this just a couple minutes ago. Now be a good little dear and take what I give you."

Makes Love

KUNIKIDA doesn't like saying he fucked you- no, the term is too vulgar and not a proper representation of the feelings he has towards you. Yes, he can rather rough- especially when you're brat- but in many instances, he's very attentive and places your own pleasure before his own. Even now that he has you all spread out against the mattress, his length deep within your most sensitive spots, his always being aware of your comfort. He's aware of his own strength, his cock can easily spear you in half and make tears run down your face, but unless provoked otherwise or requested by you, he keeps himself in check. He has a pace that makes you both feel good, his lips brushing your cheek whilst you mewl beneath him. Sweet nothings and praises drips from his voice at every chance he gets, making sure you know well just how good you make him feel; a low groan would escape him whenever you clench around him, fingers taking you vacant hand or drawing shapes at your cilt. His pace gradually speeds up, adoring the way you lock your legs around his waist. He wants to make he fulfill all your desires, afterall he feels good if you do as well.

"A-ah- you take me so well, my love. Such a good girl, taking me so well. Just a little more, okay? Just like that."

ATSUSHI finds every part of your body to mesmerizing; he always so gentle and careful when kneading at you skin, asking if 'this was okay?' Or 'do you feel good?' He reciprocated your red blush, setting a gentle pace enjoyable to the both of you. Small love bites littered your shoulders, areas in which you can easily cover up, only for his eyes to view alone; he would press chaste kisses to those marks his way of apologizing for being too rough. Soft moans and mumbles of praise would escape him whenever you carded your fingers through his hair. His eyes would pinch shut as gave his length kitten licks, his words of encouragementmeeting no ends. In intimate moments such as these, he finds himself subconsciously grabbing your hand, gently squeezing it as you both approach your high. Atushi gently wipes away your tears as he thrusts into you a bit harder, his thighs trembling with how deep he went. As he approaches his climax, the only coherent words were his expressions of 'I love you.'

" So good, you feel so- good. Ah- y/n, I- Love so much, I can't p-properly express it-! Please cum with me, please-"

Both?! Both !

He tries to be gentle(unless you otherwise wish for him to be rough) and make you feel so good and loved, but the moment you clench around his cock, CHŪYA loses all control. Your legs were wide, bascially folded in half beneath him. His thrust only speeds up, defined arms holding onto your hips- bruises were sure to form with his grip. But the moment tears prick the corners of you eyes, Chūya would pause. As much he was close to his own sweet release the last thing he wishes was for you to be in genuine pain. A chuckle would escape him as you mumble how good he made you feel, your words causing his dick to twitch, only adding to your pleasure with a whine. His hips resumed to rut against you, his lips connecting with many parts of your body; collarbone, chest, wrist. All before finally connecting with your lips, muffling your cries as you reach your climax. He may be rearranging your insides as his tip kisses your cervix and rubs on all the best spots, but that's how he shows he loves you.

" You must be addicted to my dick given the look on your face. If you keep squriming amd making those sounds, I won't be able to hold myself back. But thats maybe what you want, isn't that right Doll?"

It's quite difficult to read NIKOLAI'S expression, especially in heat of the moment when pleasure rocks through your entire body with each precise movement of his hips. Your face is buried within the pillows, your euphony of sounds muffled as his long fingers wrap around the curve of your neck. He applied menial pressure but it was enough to send jolts of pleasure and fear down your shine. How long have you been in this position? You've lost count. Perhaps it was cruel of Nikolai to make you continue like this, panting and grabbing the headboard for support; but the sweet moans and hiccups you echoed back at him- the way your tongue rolled his name when he thrusted into the right spot- it was addicting and he shamelessly succumbed to the pleasure. He would chuckle at the whimpers you make as his thrust grow harder, the sounds of your filthy actions echoing in the room. Purple and red crescent moons formed along the sides of your thighs where his fingertips gripped onto tightly. Along with forming blemishes came the display of bites along back of your neck. He would bite down hard and without worse, his cock twitching at your whines of pleasure and pain. But not matter, he will gladly lick away your tears while his words say the most meanest of things with a dabble of praise in between. But with how clench around his cock, he knows youre adoring it just as much. He could be unpredictable, but he knew how to make you so weak.

" My pretty darling, is the pleasure too much for you, hm~? But I must admit, you feel wonderful, clenching me around like that~ I feel as though I can do this all night. What do you say, care to test the limits~? "

[princessbrunette]

if anyone understands having a tricky relationship with their father, it’s nate archibald. ౨ৎ

somethin small i wrote abt nate bc a few people asked. cw: daddy kink, daddy issues, smut

that distant stare of yours, that pout as you stare out over the city from his apartment window. he knows it all too well. approaches you softly with a slight sympathetic pout of his own, running a hand over your head and bringing your cheek to his chest so he can kiss the top of your head. he couldn’t give you a better father, but he could give you that guidance and love you crave so much. he could do better.

so he gives you everything — you want that dress costing an arm and a leg? it’s already hanging in your side of the closet at his apartment. you too sleepy as you sit at the kitchen table in the morning after a long night with him? he’s forking up a perfect biteful of pancake and bringing it to your lips with a grin, happy to do so. he never gets mad when you snap at him, something deeper clearly triggering such a sudden reaction— only frowning and shaking his head, closing in on you to thumb at your cheek. “whats with the attitude? somethings on your mind. talk to me.” he coo’s empathetically.

it’s not just you that noticed— blair’s smug but somewhat gleeful smile as she totters alongside nate on the street, nudging him with a sharp elbow through her maison margiela coat. “well, you know how thrilled i am for you to finally be tugging along a girl of taste. even if i have to watch you treat her like you snatched her from the cradle yourself.”

he huffs out a laugh, shooting her a confused glance, walking alongside her with his hands in his pockets. “what are you talking about? she’s like one year younger than me. nearly two.”

“age isn’t nothing but a number, nate— i’m talking about the coddling, tell me — does she call you daddy in just the bedroom or do you extend that to all hours of the day?”

“jesus— need i remind you of boundaries blair, what i do with my girlfriend is none of your business… but— no, she doesn’t call me that.”

but it stayed bouncing around his brain like a ping pong ball. started noticing all the little things, how much more you’d cling to him after an argument with your father. selfishly, he almost started wishing you’d fight more— just so he could dote on you like that. the whole ‘daddy’ thing wouldn’t be so weird right? the thought of it had him reaching down to readjust in his tight suit pants, clearing his throat. uncomfortable? yes. but sexy, crazily so.

maybe he could milk it out of you. enforce a little more guidance until you’re putty in his hand. it wouldn’t be hard, he saw the way you’d blink at him all doe eyed when he’d tell you not to stay up too late, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. he’d speak slower, calmer, stand closer, make him the only thing you can see, think about even. he was gentle, loving, held eye contact super well — too well, made your face get hot and wanna look away. made you wanna shrink, go all mushy in your brain. “hey, look at me when i talk to you sweetheart. i don’t bite, you know.” he smiles, and there’s no threat present but god you’d never disobey him. never your nate.

it finally slips out when he’s got your thighs pinned open, strong arms wrapped around them whilst he sucks on your clit. he was always good at that, making you cum. nate knew just how to destress you after a long stressful day, far too stressful for his sweet girl. he laps you up, pressing thick fingers deep inside gummy walls, dribbling over your slit.

“nnnnnn—” you can’t even get his name out, clutching a pink throw pillow.

“i know, baby.” he hums.

“daddy!” you cry, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid as if he was expecting it. if you’d been more with it, you would have seen him bite back a proud chuckle, shoulders relaxing just a little. he keeps at it, stroking the inside of your sensitive thighs.

“thats right. tell daddy how it feels.”

[jadedxhearts]

𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝

Law and you have spent far too much time apart, intimately. When you think you’re going to lose your mind from desperation, he finally gives in, a certain “cure” in mind to treat you.

Originally posted in Oct 8 2023

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills! (this one might be slighter better?)

It was difficult to not notice the various things that had set off certain alarms in your mind. Not to say those alarms were concerning nor bad in nature, no.

It started during a routine check up, about two weeks ago. You were sat in a chair in the operation room aboard the Polar Tang, allowing Law to do whatever he needed to check your general health. He’d taken your temperature, other vitals, the basics. But it was when he’d began feeling around your neck, presumably for your lymph nodes, that a shudder went down your spine. 

For one short moment, his hand had wrapped around your neck as though he was possessively holding onto you, much like he did during… other times. Law had been so busy these days, constantly working hard to make sure his submarine was being run correctly and efficiently. He tended to be this way, always, but as of lately, things seemed more hectic on the ship. You really couldn’t come up with an answer why, though.

However, these long working hours for your lover meant that he generally didn’t have much time to spare. Especially not for things such as sex. Your body longed for him, your fingers proving to not be enough. You’d tried to be cool about it, using body language and longing looks to try and get your message across. But Law either seemed too tired, or downright uninterested. You could tell by his mannerisms, though, especially during the checkup, that he longed for you too.

So when his hand had just barely wrapped around your neck, leaving you gasping for air as if he’d choked you, all feelings went straight down between your legs, your heart pounding as you became too excited too quickly. But your routine checkup wasn’t over, and Law had already moved on from his ‘accident’. 

But then another thing happened not even five minutes later. His gloved hands kept grazing your body, touch lingering for much longer than it should have. Again and again, these things kept happening, turning you on even more; making you more desperate for the doctor’s touch.

You’d tried to initiate that evening, but Law was exhausted, barely making an effort to kick off his boots and change into pajama pants before he’d promptly collapsed into bed. 

And now here you were, two entire weeks later, still having gone unsatisfied. You honestly struggled, having to go about your day as normal, meanwhile your brain remained filled with images of Law doing certain things to you. His tattooed chest glistening as he hovered over you, shoving your body down into the pillows as he filled you up so deliciously, among other images of past times with him. God, you needed him so badly.

You were curled up in bed, hugging a pillow tightly as you tried to fall asleep, trying to not lose your sanity as you pushed away any lewd thoughts about Law. It was so, so difficult, though. The pillow was slipping down between your legs as you clung to it, the plushness of it brushing against where you yearned for Law most. Eventually, it was in a spot where you could rub yourself against it, if you so wished. The thought seemed so dirty, and you couldn’t help but hope Law would walk into the bedroom and catch you as you began to move your hips, biting your lip harshly as you slowly humped the pillow.

But then you were interrupted, practically throwing the pillow away from yourself as the den-den-mushi on your nightstand began to ring. Calming yourself down, you answered it with a click, only to be surprised as Law’s voice came through.

“Y/n? You awake?” He asked, voice sounding… off. You couldn’t quite figure it out, though.

“Yes,” you choked out, feeling your heart hammering in your chest as you breathed heavily. Maybe he’d hear how desperate you were and come back to bed.

“Meet me in the operation room,” he instructed, and you now noticed how seductively he spoke. It made your cunt throb, and you obliged happily, already leaping out of the bed. 

You hadn’t even responded to him. You’d honestly forgotten to through your excitement, rushing out of your bedroom to sprint over to the operation room. After all, there could only be one reason why Law was in there, demanding you to meet him there at this hour.

Opening the doors to the large room, you discovered Law leaning against the table, arms folded in front of his chest as he smirked down at you. The tall man wore his doctor's coat over a tank top and his usual jeans. The other key differences were that his hat was removed, sitting on a counter nearby where he stood. And the other two things being that he had on gloves, as well as the fact that there was a not so hidden bulging in his jeans. He looked painfully hard, even through the constricting fabric.

Hands folded in front of you, you quickly moved to stand in front of him, innocently looking up at your lover. “You wanted me, Law?” You asked, voice ever so slightly pitched up to add a sense of cuteness, with an underlying sultriness to it. 

He chuckled, using one gloved finger to tilt your chin up toward him, face inching closer to yours. “Figured you needed a ‘check up’, hm?”

“B-but, I just had one two weeks ago,” you feigned innocence, pretending to be unaware of his antics. Though it was evident that both of you knew what game was being played here.

“I think you need a different kind, though,” Law hummed, firmly kissing you for just a second, before biting down onto your lips. “I want you undressed and up on the table, understood?”

With a sweet giggle, you nodded and eagerly began stripping yourself of your clothing. Once you were down to your panties, you angled your head to face Law, licking your lips as you slowly slid the thin fabric down your legs. Though, before they could even reach under your ass, you felt his hands on you, lifting you up to sit on the operation table. And while he’d quickly gotten you up on it, Law then went at an agonizingly slow pace, carefully pulling your panties down your legs, eyes never leaving yours for a second as they slipped off your feet, now bunched up in his hands.

He didn’t say a word to you. Law simply examined your panties, more than likely noticing the wet spot in them. He smirked, looking between you and the delicate lace for a second, all before setting them down on the counter behind him. 

Then, Law returned to you, placing both hands on either side of you, leaning dangerously close to your nude body. His gray eyes looked you up and down, noticeably stopping to stare at your full breasts. Then back up to your face, where he seemingly lingered on your lips. 

“By simply observing you, I cannot say whether or not you are… sufficient.”

“Sufficient?” You raised an eyebrow, echoing Law’s words.

“In satisfaction,” he explained, before continuing on with the act. “Tell me, Y/n. Do you have any symptoms?”

You slowly nodded, bashfully looking away. “Um… yes, I have this ache. It’s soo painful, like I’m throbbing and need something.”

“Where is the ache?” Law asked, sounding as bored as ever. Perhaps he was more desperate than he’d assumed, and was growing tired of the act?

With that thought in mind, you widen your legs, revealing your wet pussy to him. Taking his right hand in yours, you bring Law’s fingers to the supposed ache, gently pushing the gloved finger tips into your folds with a whine.

“I see,” he hummed. “And I know of the treatment you need.”

“You do?” You bit your lip, deciding you were also growing far too desperate to keep up the act. You needed him. Now.

“Yeah,” he deadpanned, face moving beside yours as he whispered, “you need my fucking cock in you, that’s what.”

His hushed voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your spine. 

“Please, Law,” you whined, grabbing onto him. “Make me feel good, please doctor!”

Law reacted quickly, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, swiftly pulling out his hard length. He was probably aching just as much as you were. With a low chuckle, he pulled you closer to him, using one hand to rub his cock’s tip against your wet folds, the other hand landing on the side of your face as he brought your lips together, kissing you with such desperate fever. 

“Fuck, Law, please,” you moaned, dragging out your words to show more desperation. “Please fuck me, baby.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, as he fully inserted his length in you, filling you to the brim as his pulsating cock squeezed inside of your velvety walls. 

You both moaned, the lewd noises spilling into each other’s mouths as you swallowed them up. Fuck, he felt so good in you. The stretch was delicious, you thought, as you clamped down on him. There was no way you were lasting long tonight.

Law hissed as you cunt squeezed his cock, trapping him within you. “F-fuck, Y/n,” he choked out, “quit clenching on me like that, I’m gonna cum if you keep it up.”

You whined, trying to relax the muscles within your cunt. And after another moment of sitting like that, Law finally pulled his hips backwards, quickly snapping them forward with force, ripping loud moans from your throat.

He pounded into you, creating the nastiest wet noises you’d ever heard your pussy produce, combined with the sound of his skin slapping against yours.. You were glad the operation room walls were thick, as you had a feeling all the combined sounds would wake your resting crewmates otherwise. 

Your fingernails dug into the fabric of Law’s coat, gripping him as your whole body trembled from the sensations. He held you tightly, hovering over you as you laid back on the table now, legs in the air. If somebody were to walk in, there was no doubt about what you and Law were doing. 

Before long, you were screaming his name, cunt slick with your juices as you felt the tight knot within you about to burst. You were a moaning, desperate mess, ready to succumb to everything Law was doing to you. And it seemed he wasn’t far behind, as his thrusts became sloppy and inconsistent, heavy pants falling from his open mouth.

“Law, fuck, fuck, please cum in me,” you half whined, half begged.

“Already planned on it,” he grunted, snapping his hips against yours harshly, “you need your medicine, after all, hm?”

A whimper escaped you, and you felt your body let go as you began to cum around his cock. Law urged you on, praising you for being such a good girl, saying you needed just a little bit more of his cock.

But, mid-way through his taunting, Law gasped, shoving his head down and between your breasts as his body seemingly locked up, his thrusts stopping while he was fully inside you. Cum spilled from him, filling up your spent pussy. You moaned from the sensations of the hot seed stuffing you, a hand flying to hold onto Law, gripping at his messy black hair. 

As you both calmed down, you put a gentler hold on Law’s hair, using both hands to hold his head as you played with the raven locks. He panted against you, hot breaths landing on the skin of your chest. Eventually, he pulled his upper body away, looking down at you before placing a kiss on your wet lips.

“So… am I cured, doctor?”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Cruella De Vil x Reader || Smexcerpt

Plot: You've had an exhausting day, and eating out your mean lady is just what you need 💋🚬

Warnings: Smuttttt. Also Cruella is very mean 😅 XD

Nothing special. I just want more fics of eating out women... especially Her XD

Sighing, you close her office door behind you and drop your bag on the ground by the doorway, before rolling your tight shoulders. "Oh my god, it's been the longest workday... " You're tired, you have a headache and you're just done with the world.

"Go home, then." Cruella tells you like it's obvious, rolling her eyes at the papers she was going through; highlighting and underlining.

Huffing, you plop in the seat across from her desk. "I wanted to see you, though."

"Well, I'm busy." She puts down the papers and slips her sharp nails under another pile, focusing her snake-like eyes on those new figures without pause. "Make yourself useful, somehow."

"Can't work anymore. Head broken. Brain-dead."

She shakes her head, waiving you off. "Get me a drink then, or something. Go get yourself a snack. Oversee the window cleaning on the second floor. Ride the lift until your stupid little head goes fuzzy- I don't care. But don't you hinder me when I'm busy."

Your head's already fuzzy, you think.

...

...

...

It takes you a few minutes before you do it, so credit where credit is due. But it's not long, before you put your fuzzy brain to good use.

The steel doors of Cruella's office are sealed closed, so you simply settle under her desk and get comfortable between her smooth thighs after slipping her her sleek black panties off of her. Above you, you hear her release a sigh; muttering to herself. "Well, better then nothing... "

As soon as you start softly licking her pretty pussy you start to feel relieved from your day. Like her cunt's the cure to your headache and tight muscles, the moment you feel her soft lips under your salacious tongue you feel immediate relief. You think her pussy is magic, and you're addicted.

Every stroke of your tongue against her velvety cunt makes you feel better, more comfortable, and warmer. You don't even mind the hardness of the cold tile ground your bony knees are digging into.

When Cruella inevitably becomes drippy and needy under your attentions, her slick all over you chin and trickling onto your neck, you slip your hands around her thighs and hold her thighs against the sides of your head and really start to go down on that magic pussy. With fluid strokes, you draw your tongue deeply into her and suck her at the same time. When her sharp fingernails scrape against your sore skull you give a pathetic, fully contented moan into her. Then she tugs your hair s l o w l y, for a drawn out few moments, and you just want to melt.

You have to pause sucking her off to breath and pull yourself together, hair in your face, and give her thighs and pussy a few kisses, before returning to your tawdry activity.

After this you start rubbing your tongue continuously against her clit, and when you hear Cruella's pen be set down very firmly onto the desk with a snap, you can't help but smirk; drowsy and pussy-drunk. With one last, long lick across her wet, soft pussy, you finally take your mouth away from her.

When, finally, you drive two of your fingers slowly into her mushy, used hole, now beinb set back on your butt under the desk so that you can watch your fingers dissapear in and slick ooz out, it takes all of 4 good thrusts in-and-out for Cruella cum. To squeeze your hair around her fist, and clench your knuckles inside her so tight your lips part because god that's hot.

... she relaxes again after a few seconds and you slip your fingers free from her, and suck them clean, savouring the last bits of her flavour. Cruella sighs, and puts the flat of her high heeled shoe to your body and half pushes, half kicks you out from under the desk. You fall back on the heels of your hands, and give a giggle.

"Well I hope you feel better," Cruella sighs, frustrated. "You've just wasted my time. Out."

Shaking your head, you pop back up into your seat and flash Cruella a grin; chin covered in grease and hair a mess. "I do feel better, thank you very much. I'll get you that drink, now. What do you want, darling?"

She raises a brow at you, your boldness, before sighing and chucking a cardboard box of tissues at your chest and looking back to her work. "Make yourself presentable first. You'll get me jasmine tea, piping hot, and if you get it wrong you'll get back under the desk. Clear?"

With a wicked smirk, you nod. "... You want biscuits?"

"Of course I want biscuits, you little idiot." 

[jokingmisfit]

Their Little Girl

Hannigram x Reader

Prompt- “Let me kiss it better.”

Warnings- Drugging, Forced Regression, Implied Kidnapping, Mentions of needles, Yandere Behavior, Dumbification, Use of Daddy and Papa, Breakdowns

Hannibal sat to my side holding my arm lightly while holding a needle in the other hand. Will held me gently in his lap. His arms wrapped around my waist and his head rested on my shoulder. They both paid me little mind. Will was busy watching Hannibal fix the medicine, probably worried he’ll “hurt me”. Hannibal is busy making sure he got the right amount, and that he was doing everything perfectly.

Hannibal injected the liquid into my arm and I let out a quiet whine. After a while the area is getting sore. The tears sprung from my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It felt terrible. Everything I am is being stripped from me, all for their sick pleasure.

It wasn’t that the needle actually hurt. No, but the knowledge of what they were doing was enough. They already gave me several doses. They just want me to stay like this. Stay their “little girl”. I don’t even know what’s in those syringes. All I know is that it takes any will to fight and all my defenses from me. Sometimes they give me something that makes me feel weird. Will said he likes that one the most because I actually am like the little girl that they know I am inside.

Will held me tighter and cooed in my ear. “Poor thing. I know it hurts. You know Papa and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I hate both of you assholes.” It came out as a shaky whisper, but the only thing that I found really pisses them off is me acting like an adult and ignoring their rules. The only way I can really stick it to them is when I talk in all the ways they don’t want me to.

Hannibal pauses his movements.Though he looks calm his eyes are angry.  “Perhaps it would be better to give her the other dose now rather than to wait.” He says looking at Will.

I didn’t mean to do this. I didn’t think he would suggest that. I was just trying to gain some control back. This is so unfair. I can’t do this.

I started to thrash in Will's arm. I tried to plead with the men. “Please! I’m sorry I won’t do it again! Please don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I screamed as I cried.

WIll is overtly stronger than I am, and he flips me around, pinning my arms behind my back and keeping me trapped in his lap. The drugs had already started working so my movements weren’t that sporadic anyways. I know it must look pathetic, but I’m just so scared.

I didn’t hear them agree on the drugging, but I found often they can share their thoughts with only a look. That’s how I knew that when Will kept me straddling his lap that it meant that he was keeping me from seeing the new needle Hannibal had gotten out. I knew even as he whispered to me and rubbed circles on my skin that Hannibal was about to give me a new dosage of that horrible drug.

As I continued to wither and writhe, Will whispers to me. “Shhh you’ll be okay.” He kisses my face and tears as I try pulling away. “You have to relax baby, you’re only going to make it feel worse.” He frowns as I whimper out a plea for them to stop. “I know, you can’t wrap your little head around what’s going on, but we’re helping you.”

Hannibal chimed in. “If you can remember, you never were good at caring for yourself, little one. Even now, when you think you know what is right you’re wrong.”

I can feel Hannibal run a hand through my hair brushing it off my shoulder. I can feel the prick in my arm. I can feel the slight pull Will gives me towards his chest. I can feel my breath hitching and my eyes blurring with more tears.

Will pulls me into his chest completely, hiding my face and keeping me there. Hannibal and Will exchange a few words I can’t quite hear because of the way Will held my head. 

It didn’t take long. Whatever drug was in that syringe it kicked in faster than the other “medicine”. My eyes felt funny and my brain turned mushy.

Hannibal was the one who pulled me from Will's arms. He sat me on his lap. He looked stern and caring. Of course he was upset, but that doesn’t mean he loves me any less. 

I keep my eyes down. I stare doe eyed at the floor. I couldn’t meet his gaze. I truly felt like a child. I moved my hand to rest on the area he kept giving the shots to. I couldn’t see either of the men’s faces, but I know they hate when I seem hurt. If only they understood that it was mental not physical. Maybe they do, but don’t want their fun to end. I really don’t know

Hannibal moves my hand and looks at the area, gently massaging it in an attempt to make the not so existent pain go away. Will moved closer. Now sitting closer he rubbed my legs with a frown.

Will seemed genuinely upset at my reaction. Even still, in his mind it was just another reason he needed to step into that role to care for me.

Leaning in and taking the arm gently from Hannibal he whispered. “Let me kiss it better.”

His lips were soft and my skin seemed to tingle. A light giggle from the ticklish feeling.

Both Hannibal and Will perked up at this reaction.

“See this is much better, yes, Mažasis?”

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Shanks x Reader Imagine - Unfortunate Sailing

(This little imagine has been stuck in my brain for a while.)

You're part of the Red Hair Pirates, while you're happy to drink and get drunk with the crew, you only do it sometimes as you like not waking up with hangover or trying to do your liver in. Plus in the mornings you enjoy the quiet before everyone starts to wake up and groaning with a hangover.

If you're feeling annoyed because of the crew you will bring pots out of the kitchen and banging them, watching the crew moan, simply for your pleasure.

One particular morning you got a call on your personal Den Den Mushi, from your childhood friend, explaining a situation that was happening and needed help. After listening to them you figured that the rest of crew of wasn't needed for this, as you knew a few people in your hometown that will that would be more than happy to help.

After telling crew and declining the offer for them helping, knowing that them being there was a little overkill and you didn't want the town run dry of rum, with how much they all drunk and stocked up on, but did promise them that if you needed help you would inform them.

After packing what you needed and weapons, you told the crew to behave till you got back and hopefully you would be back as soon as possible. Shanks asked once more if you were sure of your decision and told him you were. He then said where they would potentially gonna be when you finished with business, you pressed a kiss on his lips and left, as you began your journey home.

You made it to your hometown quicker than you were expecting and immediately started making plans with some of the other people to deal with the problem of the bandits.

Having dealt with pirates of varying crews, the bandits were easy to take care of and very little injuries were attained by all. The whole town held a party after the bandits were defeated and didn't have to worry about them anymore.

Having spent a week catching up with your friends, you knew it was time to leave and head back to your red headed man.

Surprisingly you were able to get on a ship that was heading near where Shanks and the crew should be, so that made your life easier or it would of, had the ship not been attacked in the night half way through the journey.

You were thrown from the bed you were sleeping into a table with such force you were certain that you heard cracks, as you wheezed trying to get your breath back.

Hearing shouting and screaming, you grabbed your weapons and left the room to find who was attacking and help out. More cannonballs were being shot and you were doing the best to dodge people and the splinting wood that was flying around.

Just as you reach the deck, you were thrown again by the sheer force and you crashed into the railing of the ship, with your left collarbone taking the brunt, making you give a small cry of pain.

You did your best to fight but due to the darkness, the pain you were in and being unable to recognize who was attacking, most likely pirates, the battle was over and you were left clinging to broken wood to keep yourself afloat.

At some point you slipped unconscious and when you woke next, you were in a white room with light hitting your face, you were sure you would of died drifting unconscious at sea.

Eventually you found out from the doctor that had been looking after you, that a fishing boat had gone out earlier and had found you and brought you back to their island to be treated.

The doctor explained that you had broken your left collar in two places, and that it should remain in a sling until it was healed, you also had a couple of ribs that were fractured and the others were bruised, so best to avoid to doing much as they heal and then there was a gush to the head that was healing fine.

You had more cuts and bruises all over your body, that were bandage up, but resting and not moving much was the best thing for you.

After a couple of day, you were able to contact Shanks and the crew, letting them know you needed to be picked up, but conveniently left out what had happened, that was a conversation for later.

You had been at the port since the ship was spotted, so when the Red Force had finally arrived in port and docked, you were relieved to finally be going home, sleeping in your own bed and taking a long bath but you were also apprehensive giving your current state.

Taking a deep as breathe as you, being mindful for your ribs, you watched as the gangplank was lowered and waited for the commotion of the crew, when a little voice in the back of your mind made you wonder if you could escape before they saw you but that thought quickly left, as you heard your name being called.

You quickly told them to shut up, it was too early to be dealing with them and their shenanigans plus you weren't in the mood for it. You could hear Beck say it was past midday and you shot him a betrayed look he was meant to be on your side, as the other responsible person on the ship.

You were doing everything in your power to avoid the glaring issue and certain red head, you were happy they were here but you just wanted your bed and deal everything later one.

You were distracted by the crew that you didn't notice the looming shadow over you till your head was moved so you were looking up into the face of your captain and lover.

You could see concern in his eyes, obviously, but also there was a hint of anger and could see he was about to ask, but you stopped him by putting your hand up and shook your head.

His shoulders fall and pressed a kiss into your hair, and only says later to you, to which you just nod your head as his hand rests on the small of your back, as you head back aboard the ship.

Once back in the capital cabin, you looked at the bed and couldn't wait to be in it but you first a had a quick wash and pulled on loose cloth, with slight difficulty and pain but you managed. You then settled on the bed and did the best you could to find the best position to sleep.

At some point when you were napping Shanks had come in and settled behind you, gently pulling you between his legs and laying you against his chest as he rested his chin on top of your head.

When you wake sometime later it takes you a few moments to realise you weren't in the same position as earlier but definitely felt more comfortable than what you had fallen asleep in.

You felt a hand stroking your hair and moved your head to see Shanks, you didn't think it would anyone else but you never know its happened before.

After a few moments and feeling more awake, then shuffled around so your right side was against his chest, allowing you to look up at him easier. There was silence between you two as his hand came up and ran his fingers over the nearly healed gush on your head. It left a little scar but your hair would cover mostly.

His hand then travelled down your face and stroked your cheek with his thumb, then travelled down your neck and across your left collarbone with the lightest of touches and then continued down over your ribs before resting his hand on your waist.

The stillness between the two of you only last a few moment, before Shanks is resting his cheek on top of your head before asking what had happened to you to end up with those injuries.

So you explained to him how everything had happen, there were a couple of moment, while explaining when his fingers digged to your waist, which made you wince as you were still covered bruises and cuts.

You knew that he was down right furious, murderous, at the pirates that had attacked you and a little angry at himself for not being more insistent that the Red Force went with you, and you getting hurt could have been avoid altogether.

To distract Shanks from his musing, you moved your head and pressed kisses into his jawline and a couple of his neck, which got him, as he looked down at you with a cheeky smile.

He then peppered your face with kisses, as he teased that you couldn't be that hurt but he wouldn't fall victim to your alluring smile and addictive kisses till you had recovered.

You just laughed at him and kissed him again, to which he turned his head away each time and said nope, he wasn't falling for it again.

After a few moments of trying, you pouted at him and saying you were gonna tell Beck that he was being mean and attempted to get up but Shanks just tighten his hold to keep you against him, as he gave you a couple of more kisses and rub his face against your, whining that Beck would make him do some sort work.

You shook your head at his antics before a yawn escaped you, so you settled into a comfortable position and closed your eyes. As you drifted off you felt one more kiss pressed into the side your head and a mumbles words of affection.

It had been over a week since your return to the Red Force and had docked at some little island, having a party on the beach.

You were happily sitting in-between Shanks legs, using his thigh as a pillow, watching the fire as Lucky was cooking on it, when an unexpected visitor turned up, making some of the newer crew mates reach for their weapons.

Lifting your head up to see who was causing the commotion, you saw that it was the sword wielding Warlord. Shanks told the men to stand down as he welcomed Mihawk to come and drink with them.

Mihawk eyes locked on you, as you gave the Warlord a smile as you laid your head back down, noticing the bandages and sling that your arm was still you.

While Shanks was carding his fingers through your hair, Mihawk came and crouched in front of you, taking your face gently in his hand, he then called you Darling as he looked over you.

Upon hearing Mihawk call you darling, Shanks pouted at the swordsman and complained why he never got called darling.

Noticing the look that Mihawk was giving Shanks, you giggled to yourself, before his attention turned back to you and inquired as to what happened, as he stroked your cheek. You gave a murmured short explanation of what had happened.

When he let go of your face, you made a little grumble at the loss as you went back to using Shanks thigh, as the red head gave a better explanation of what happened to you to the Warlord.

As both men spoke (more like bickering you though) with each other, you slowly drifted off to the sound of their voices.

(Possibly implied MiShanks x Reader, take it how you wish)

[impishjesters]

Mafia Boss Jax x Reader

warning(s): gun mentioned, stalking mentioned, domestic/soft Jax, marriage mentioned note(s): Honestly couldn't really see much worth tagging, it's all just stuff you'd expect to see mentioned in a mafia/gang headcanon... A/N: So I saw a fanart thingie (and I've had it on the brain anyway) and it made me thirsty for some mafia boss Jax and I just... I might have to write up a one-shot (or series) at some point but this was enough to quench my thirst...temporarily. I can definitely see myself building a universe around this idea though. I'm excited as you can tell because I just kept fuckin' going in writing this out... Also feast upon domestic Jax in the latter half, I got mushy...

Jax is a tricky boss, it’s hard to get a solid read on him, as an enemy or an ally. He’s almost always sporting a grin, making it difficult to gauge unless you can tell those smiles apart. If he’s frowning? Ha.

He’s that fine middle ground of laid-back yet strict. His word is law, get shit done and do it right and he doesn’t particularly care about the rest.

This person needs to be killed, but before that, they need to be tortured for information. How you torture or kill them doesn’t matter, you get that information or else.

Rabbits are his motif design, not originally by choice but it stuck. Purple rabbit head, his signature grin, it’s childish—which is why it’s perfect, only idiots see that childish design and think “Oh this will be easy” and then it’s fuckin not.

Working for him means nobody is an exception to his little pranks and fuckery. Nothin’ too bad—not intentionally anyways. Bunch of wackos with guns, who thought they’d get trigger-happy when startled?

If you work for him, chances are he finds you a fun target for his mischief.

He might seem buddy buddy with you, but remember he’s your boss. Chances are you are acquaintances at best, not friends. At least for now—who knows?

If you’re dating him, well howdy hey aren’t you a pretty little thing on his arm?

Just kidding, regardless of whether you work under him or not you are given standard gun training as protection for yourself and him, but mainly yourself.

He does like it when you are his date for any events, though he’ll never say it. Jax is the type to bring up an event and do the whole shtick of “guess I’ll need to find a date” sorta guy.

Back on the topic of dating him and gun training—on the off chance you are dating and don’t know about his little crew and lifestyle… What the fuck’s wrong with you? Are you that blind? His position isn’t some well-kept secret, well not to anyone who knows anything.

Jax is pretty straightforward about it, except with his track record of joking there’s like a 97% chance you thought he was kidding when he said he’s a mafia boss. Ha, surprise.

Now if the two of you are dating, and you aren’t part of his little world then he does do his best to keep you out of it. This means that there are periods when you won’t see him, whether it’s because he’s busy or for safety reasons.

You aren’t safe from spam texts, calls, and video chats though. Nah, that’s all fair game to him baby.

Oh, you got work in the morning? Tough, he’ll stay on the phone/video with you until you pass out—he might go a step further and stay on the call for hours even if you are unconscious.

He does it for one of three reasons…

One, it gives him fuel to use whatever shit you say or do in your sleep to tease you with later.

Two, your company, albeit silent and unaware that you’re keeping him company, makes him feel less alone. Moments like this are often when he’s not working and at home, alone. Hearing you breathe, babble, and shuffle around on speaker has him feeling less alone in that big home of his.

Three, it gives him some piece of mind that you are okay, he can see and hear you, and no guns or glass are breaking to be heard. You’re safe. Moments like this are usually after stressful events, whether it’s a job gone wrong, someone injured, etc.

Those calls usually last through the night into the morning and you wake up and see the call still on or see him on the screen. He’s never told you about why some calls continue into the morning, or rather why he’s still awake when he should’ve been sleeping. Though it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s not just him being a stalker, but something more serious—if the oddly sweet tone he uses when telling you good morning and asking how you slept is anything to go by.

That said, Jax is not a morning person—even to you. Though if he’s awake before you or has yet to sleep, he’s oddly tender and domestic when it’s just the two of you.

“How’d ya sleep, angel? Dream of me? Nah, don’t answer that, I know ya did.”

“Hey sleepyhead, got ya coffee and breakfast ready. No, I didn’t put anything suspicious in it. I’m wounded doll, ya think I’d put in all that effort to make you breakfast just to ruin it?”

Okay so he’s still a little shit, but he’s got an unspoken soft spot for you.

Speaking of soft spots, if he’s truly down bad for you then that means you are his weakness. He can’t have those—no he’s not gonna kill ya Christ calm down—that means you’re at risk of getting hurt if word gets out.

So if the two of you aren’t at that level yet and are still living apart, he tries hard to keep his distance to keep the attention off you.

But if you are living together? You’re still at risk but he’s got his security measures, and bodyguards galore—even if you don’t live together he always has someone watching you—sure it’s a little creepy but just don’t think about it alright?

I said don’t think about it.

Jax does yet doesn’t understand the line of stalking. To him he’s keeping you safe, to you it’s likely an invasion of your privacy—but if you are anything like me then as long as there’s no malicious intent he can do his own thing. I dunno bout you but I’d rather him have eyes on me than something bad happen to me.

While living together it doesn’t take a genius to tell you that Jax visibly relaxes in your presence, especially when he comes home and gets into bed with you. He’s such a domestic sucker deep down, but you don’t need words to see that.

Overall, I feel like Jax wouldn’t date you if he didn’t have serious feelings for you. His lifestyle isn’t for everyone and he doesn’t open up to just anyone, it could take years before he finally allows himself to even ask you out on a date before considering more. But once the two of you are together he sees the two of you in for the long run, he’ll probably be upfront about it and say if you aren’t in this for the long run and potential marriage then he can’t do it.

Your Jax’s ride or die, please allow him to be yours too.

[mazeinthemiroh]

Hi! i hope your having a good day. i love your work and was wondering if you could maybe do skz headcannons with an idol s/o who’s the main dancer in their group?

stray kids with their main dancer idol! s/o

genre: headcanons; fluff, general, idol! s/o

word count: 0.8k

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

chan is always keen on self-improvement and finds that you help a lot

if he feels he's lacking in the dance department, the likelihood is he'll seek you out

not that he'll ever directly ask for help lmao

but sometimes you can just sense it and take the hint

he appreciates how much of a perfectionist you can be with your art. he's the same, of course

he feels like your brains are more similar than he thought to begin with, and through understanding how you work he recognises how much you focus and try hard to be the best, which is so attractive to him

lee know

is intrigued by your technique

that's how you piqued his interest before you even started dating him

being a professional dancer, he can pick out the superior dancers from each group with ease

you were easy for him to pin-point as the main dancer of your group because of your raw talent

so, he wanted to work and even perform with you

and since then, he has never once looked back

currently, you're his dancer partner, and dare i say the best fan-favourite couple ever. your chemistry when you work together is seriously unmatched

people are always waiting for your next collab

changbin

he literally thinks you're the best dancer in the industry and stands behind that statement

anytime his friends wanna tease him he's like "okay but are you dating the best dancer in the business? that's what i thought"

gets a good rise outta wooyoung tbh and he gets super competitive but we move

he loves bragging about your achievements bruh

he doesn't have time to talk about himself when he's wayyy too busy hyping you up

he's so proud of you like?? he can't help himself as embarrassed as it sounds. you just gotta go with it

he just wuvs you and wants to tell literally everyone he meets about your awesomeness ;-;

hyunjin

similar to lee know, hyunjin would want to work with you

he can't help but be enthralled by your beauty when you're performing

encourages you to do solo performances just so you get the time to showcase what you can do

wants to learn more classical ballroom dances with you because he's a hopeless romantic and is cheesy like that

he's just so in love

will probably write poetry about you and draw a dynamic, abstract painting of you dancing just cos you inspire him so much

idk you get him so mushy it's so cute

probably cries buckets when you do a super emotional contemporary dance, because... you know... its hyunjin

han

i mean it doesn't matter what position you are in as an idol, han jisung is a supportive bf no matter what and is literally your biggest fan

if you're the main rapper? he'll learn all your rap verses off by heart

if you're the lead singer? he'll dramatically sing your own group's songs until you hate it

and you being the main dancer? well, you best believe he's learning all the choreography

especially if you do solo work, my gosh

from the minute your new music video drops he's like "baby, where do you get those hips from??"

he's down bad, basically

felix

mr. heart eyes

he literally... oh my gosh

i can't even-

he literally is obsessed with the way you move like oh my goshhhh i cannot stress this enough

you got him feeling things he's never felt before, ouch

his eyes are always fixed on you during your performances, and yes the cameraman has both caught and exposed him for having his jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes sparkly and wide as he watches you dance

the fans and i other idols get a good chuckle out of his reactions

seungmin

he takes such an interest in how your work is doing

and he loves it when you do the same

he finds you have the same love and passion for dancing as he does with regard to singing

and that common ground is beautiful

it allows the conversation to flow so easily as you bond with your similar interests

the fact that you're both idols helps too, of course

gets so blushy thinking about how stunning you are when you dance. he's like a little boy when he sees you in action

he doesn't know how to react to his soulmate being so effortlessly talented

jeongin

amazed by you

but doesn't easily show it

lowkey wants to learn more from you but is too shy to ask directly, at first

so he'll get you in a dance studio and teach you how to do the iconic 'maknae on top' hips move, just for funsies

and then he'll casually ask you what your fave move is

and from there, he will learn how to improve from you

he admires you so much, sometimes he just has a hard time articulating that to you

so spending time with you and working on dance - something you both love - is how he expresses that

[llondonfog]

Oh no please take care of yourself! Drink lots of water and rest! Hope your fever go away soon!

I have a little something (hopefully can cheer you up during your sickness). It was a short ficlet (which I am devastated to announce I have lost the link to 😭) from Lilia's POV on one of his rare sick days. He feels his brain all mushy and he very much intends to sleep the fever away like he always does, but he wakes up to tiny Silver putting a dripping wet towel on his face in his attempt to mimic what his father did to him when he was sick. Lilia is, of course, touched by the gesture, but he is also concerned that tiny Silver might catch the cold from him, yet he can't persuade tiny Silver to stay far from him. So he tells tiny Silver that Malleus is coming over and assigns tiny Silver the honor task of tidying their house to welcome the prince (Lilia lies, Malleus is busy to show up that day and he never minds the messy state of Lilia's abode anyway). But tiny Silver believes him and welcomes his papa's knightly order and he, along with his animal friends, sets out to make their home spotless!!! Lilia then drifts back to sleep, only wakes up when the fever has subsidized, just to find the tiny bunny plushie on his bed. That was the plushie he made to gift tiny Silver on the day he started sleeping separately from his papa, to "be his guard to protect him from bad dreams".

(Please if anyone has the link to this ficlet please please please share 😭 I need to read it again and again it's one of the cutest things ever)

WAHHHHHHH one of my greatest weaknesses is Silver being the caretaker for Lilia!!! This hardened warrior who has been guarded and alone for so many centuries of his life now being gently cared for by his little human son??? UGH.

(also the thought that Lilia has softened so much as to handmake a little stuffed animal that would serve to comfort his son!! the domestic vision of him clumsily sewing together a bunny plushie, nicking his fingers and the stitches crooked and uneven, only for Silver to exclaim so happily that he loves his new friend when Lilia presents it to him and hugs it close!! oh, it makes the stinging ache in his bandaged fingers all the more worth it, this strange warmth spreading out from his chest.)

Hopefully someone will see this and know what the fic was so that we can link it properly here 😭

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

Madness in a smile. Won't you stay a while?

Mafia AU

Mafia!Avengers x POC Reader “Jinx”

Summary:

Trauma molds us all in different ways.

Warnings:

Angst and Fluff and Smut, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Angst, Blood and Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse. Past Sexual Abuse, Past Relationship(s)Past Violence, Mafia Avengers, Mafia AU, Reader-Insert, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, Just a lot of dirty smut ok.

Notes:

Hello Heathens! This is a music heavy, fun, smutty, but still angsty chapter. I was in my feelings for sure. Happy Reading!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divder by @firefly-graphics

"Haaaaadeees! I'm home." Your beloved Doberman comes trotting over from the living-room. He stops in his tracks when he notices the large men behind you, letting out a low growl. "Oh bubba you're gonna have to learn to play nice. We're taking a little vacay to their compound for the time being. So please get it together. Now be a good boy and grab mama's favorite .45 for me." The doberman gives one last look at the men before turning on his heel and scampering off on his way to your study.

The super soldiers just stare at you with quirked brows over the exchange with your four-legged companion. 

"Don't just stand there clutching your pearls. Get a move on. The quicker we get back, the quicker we can strategize." You clap your hands and head down the hall.

"Did you just ask your dog to fetch you a gun?" Steve inquires. 

"Sure did. Had it specially designed just to put a bullet between Lucien’s eyes."

“Good enough for me.” Bucky shrugs.

They follow you down the hall to your locked weapons room. Tossing them each a duffle bag, you tell them to fill it with what they deem essentials. You leave them to it and head off to your room to grab your go bag and some extra clothes.

You’ve always been ready to leave at a moment’s notice. The joys of being a mafia princess and woman on the run. Of course you sometimes wish your life was simpler. Less dangerous and chaotic. That will never happen though. You came to terms with that a long time ago.

“Need a hand?” You’re whisked from your thoughts by a smooth baritone.

“I’ve got it. Not much to gather when your always ready to flee.”

“That’s kind of dark and a bit tragic.” Bucky notes with a contemplative tone.

"Don’t you know darling. All I am is dark and tragic. Lucien got one thing right. I was born in blood. Something like that leaves a mark on your soul."

“I find that the tarnished souls have the purest hearts. It just takes you a while to get there.” He nonchalantly states.

“Such a sweet talker Mr. Barnes.” You tease. “Now enough of this mushiness. Let me see what goodies you two grabbed. And yes, I will be judging you on your choices.”

You saunter out of the room. Bucky and Hades hot on your tail as you make your way to Steve and gather the rest of your necessities.

“Meet me out front. I’ll follow you on my bike. So Wolfie I’m going to need you to take good care of my boy. Don’t let him get sick in the Captain’s precious Rover.”

“He better not.” Steve growls. Bucky just laughs as he secures a leash to Hades.

Tony gave you the room between Steve and Thor’s. With Bucky and Nat Across the hall. Salt-n-Pepa’s “None Of Your Business” is blasting from the hidden speakers thanks to Jarvis, while you unpack.

The loud bass seems to have summoned a certain Vikings attention. You can feel the air shift as he enters your quarters. You pay him no mind as you continue to dance to the beat. Making yourself comfortable in your temporary home.

The song ends and rolls right into the next. As the reggaeton beat hits your ears your hips follow suit. As if they have a mind of their own. Uncaring of the eyes following every dip and swivel.

“You know, most people would consider waltzing into someone’s space without introducing yourself and staring so intently at them as rude. Now I know you’re a brute, but are all your brains located in your muscles?”

“Ha. Good one. I fully intended to introduce myself properly. But upon entering your domicile I became entrance by your siren like movements. I’d apologize but that would mean I’m sorry for enjoying the show and I am anything but sorry about that.”

You spare a look over your shoulder and note the smirk displayed on his ruggedly handsome face.

“It’s safe to assume you already know who I am. But for brevities sake I’ll go ahead with an introduction. I am Thor Odinson. Your new neighbor and resident muscle.”

You finally turn around. Taking the time to let your eyes roam and take in the golden god like giant before you. He really does paint such a magnificent picture of brute strength.

“Thor. God of Thunder and Fertility. Such a chaotic combination. To sunder life in one instant and to breathe life into existence in the next is quite the gift. I’m sure my true name proceeds me at this point, but you can call me Jinx.”

“Pleasure to formally meet you fair Jinx. And you are correct. Your name does proceed you. But they seem to have left out how your looks are just as deadly as your knives.”

You smile at the compliment as you make your way to close the door. Lightly checking Thor with your shoulder as you pass by. “Silver tongued as well. What a treat.”

He chuckles. “You have no idea little fox.”

You can feel the body heat radiating off him at your back as you close the door. Crowding around you he reaches forward to turn the lock.

You turn to face him. Having to lift your chin to look in his eyes as you only reach chest height. “You sure you want to be locked in here with little ole me?”

His eyes are full of intrigue and lust. Like a predator stalking its prey. “Should I be afraid? I am the brute, as you say, after all.”

“Do your worst Demigod, for I have already felt the flames of Hel lick across my flesh.” You lift your shirt so that he can see your scar.

He reaches out to touch your ruined skin, pausing to look you in the eye and get your consent. You nod your head, and he closes the gap. His battle roughened fingers caress the raised flesh. A reminder of your near death at the hands of someone sworn to love and protect you.

“Is this why you have your very own Garmr?” He asks. Fingers still tracing across your flesh.

“You noticed that did you? Hades is my protector, yes. I would never dream of chaining him up though. The only destruction he seeks is to destroy the one who harmed me. There is no need to fear him.”

“Fear is the farthest thing from my mind. More like respect and gratitude. To earn his favor would be to earn yours as well.”

“The fact that you made it into this room without so much as a growl from him speaks volumes. He growls whenever the Captain is around.” You laugh.

“He is rarely without Barnes though. Does he not growl at the White Wolf?”

“They’re kindred spirits I suspect. Devoted and loyal. He quite enjoys the White Wolf. But don’t tell him that.”

“You have my word little fox. May we seal the deal with a kiss?”

“You’re really jonesing for a taste aren’t ya Odinson? Did the super soldiers blab about our little playtime before our meeting?”

“I may have overheard them speaking about you in the gym. But I was curious and bewildered by you long before that. I must admit I am a little jealous that they got a taste first. Guess its what I get for only being the muscle. Don’t have the finesse required to bring a challenge like you in without violence.”

“Oh I would have loved that.” Your face lights up. “Taking you down would have been amazing.”

His eyes darken as he takes a step closer. His large body pinning you to door as he runs his hand up your chest to rest against your throat. “Sly little fox you don’t need to goad me to get what you want.”

“Maybe I just like hearing you speak. The words flow off your silver tongue so easily.”

“Is that what you want? To verbally spar?”

“This is just foreplay. I’m sure you can show me what else that mouth can do.”

His hand tightens around the base of your throat for a moment before he slides it down to your waistband where it is met with his other. Giving your hips a squeeze he looks to you for permission before going any further. You lick your lips and nod your head.

He removes your leggings and panties together, with care and reverence. Teasing your flesh as he divests you of your garments but leaving your beloved thigh sheath in place. Resting his hands on your waist he begins to raise you up the door.

Thinking that he would stop when you’re high enough to kiss his lips without stretching; he surprises you by lifting higher still. He continues on until your glistening pussy is level with his mouth and he has moved your thighs onto his broad shoulders. Smirking up at your slightly shocked face, he gives you a wink as he presses you firmly against the door for balance. He runs his tongue from your slit to clit. Groaning in appreciation of the taste of you that floods his experienced tastebuds.

Apparently that taste was enough to turn him ravenous. He takes to eating your dripping pussy like a man possessed. Worshipping your cunt like a barrel of Meade he would happily drown in.

It is not long before you are coming on his talented silver tongue. Your muscles feel loose and like putty. Keeping you in place atop his shoulders with his left hand, you watch with rapt attention as he pushes down his sweats with his right. Letting the fabric fall to his ankles. Noticeably he is without underwear.

He returns his hands to your waist and slides you down the door to where you’re perched right over his leaking uncut cock.

“If you don’t want to take this any further, speak now. For if your cunt feels as amazing as you taste. my control will be on a thin leash.” He practically growls.

You smile deviously. “As I said before.” You lean up to where you lips graze his as you speak. “Do your worst.” You run your tongue along the bottom of his lip and then bite down.

That is the go ahead he needs to squeeze your hips and slowly impale you on his god like girth. He watches your eyes roll back and your mouth opens on a silent gasp as you adjust to the stretch.

He gives you only a moment before he pins you to the door with his body. His frame spreading your thighs wider as he wraps your ankles around his waist.

“This cunt is practically magical how it fits me so well. Men could start wars over the silkiness of these walls.” He grinds against you making you moan out once more.

“I intend to leave my mark so that I may be fortunate enough to be inside you once again.”

“For all that talk of control; you seem pretty at ease right now.”

“The calm before the storm little fox. Now take a deep breath for me.”

He pulls out until only his tip remains as you inhale. When you begin to exhale, he slams his hips forward helping kick the air from lungs.

From then on it was as if you were lost in the clouds of a thunderstorm. Your body being slammed over and over against the door as your pussy took a delicious beating. The bass of his groans and growls resonating through your bones like thunder.

You feel the stirrings of your orgasm on the edge of your consciousness. The room beginning to turn to a hazy dreamlike state before you eyes. As Thor’s thumb circles you engorged pearl with a practiced skill; that need to explode continues to build.

With a well placed attack to that sweet spongy spot inside you and a pinch to your clit; you’re a goner. Your orgasm rips through you like lighting striking through the sky. Scattering you into a million pieces before your gathered back together. Still swallowed in the midst of the storm.

You squeeze tightly to Thor’s giant like frame as you ride the storm together. You could swear you saw his eyes change color. As quickly as that thought occurs it is interrupted by the grip of his hands on your hips. With a thunderous roar, that no doubt was heard throughout the entire wing, he buries himself as deep as your bodies will allow. Pressing his forehead against yours as he fills you up. Your tight walls feeling every twitch as you milk him dry.

You've had plenty experiences after you healed and got away from Lucien. All to drown out the trauma and try and replace it with the pleasure you deserve. In all those times and all those experiences no one has every made you feel so treasured and present in your body as Thor has.

You look up at him with awe and a softness in your eyes rarely shown nowadays. “I see why women throw themselves at you. For such a brute you’re as sweet as a cinnamon roll inside. And clearly have a deep love and respect for women.”

“Women are truly the strong ones. They should be treasured whenever possible. Especially you little fox. I could happily become addicted to you. Whenever you need to ride the storm. To feel just how precious you are. Come find me.”

“You’re most certainly too sweet for me.”

“Nonsense.” He kisses your forehead and allow yourself to sink into his warmth. Like the sun after the most devasting of rains.

“Now let me show you all the perks your shower has to offer.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be tricky. My legs feel like Jello still.”

“I never said I was putting you down.”

Later that evening…

You’ve found your way to the dance studio you spotted during your tour of the compound. After the events of the last 24 hours you felt the need to work out all these pesky emotions. What better way to set your head right than putting your body through vigorous movement.

Connecting your phone to Jarvis you hit repeat on the perfect track to help you with your much needed emotional release. You take a breath, centering yourself as you begin to move. Your body synchronizes to the beat like a starving apparition. Forever entranced in the symphony of notes overtaking your muscles.

As the world falls away around you, you’re inundated with a series of flashbacks and snippets of Lucien’s secret abuse. From verbal attacks to acts of violence. The visions of his sexual abuse make your skin crawl, as hot anger fuels you. His poison, sunk deep into your marrow, still lingers.

The sounds of your body ping ponging off walls. Plates of perfectly cooked food being thrown. Books being ripped in half. Let’s not forget the discreet pinching of your sides in public if he felt disrespected.

The nights he would barge in drunk from the strip club. Smelling like another woman’s perfume. Shirt and hair a mess. “Her pussy wasn’t tight enough for me. No one’s pussy compares to yours Sunshine. It’s the best thing about you.” He spreads your legs, rips your panties off and spits on his cock and fingers to lube you up. Then he just thrusts his way inside, splitting you open, uncaring of your pain as you scream out.

Two minutes and it’s over. Leaving you with his mess to clean up as he rolls over. You make for the bathroom on wobbly legs, ridding yourself of his cum and secretly taking a plan B you have stashed away.

Those nights happened far too much. And it wasn’t always in the bedroom. If he wanted you, he’d have you. You were his.

When did the raging fire inside me settle into smoldering ash? Was it when I could tell his mood by the sound of his steps coming down the hall? Or did he slowly beat it out of me with every hand he raised in anger? I never thought I would be in that situation. Swore I would never be that girl. But I was blinded by his façade of the perfect gentleman. The mask he hid behind in our day-to-day life. Like a true sociopath he mirrored emotions with practiced perfection. A practically flawless performance. Hell, he had me fooled and under his spell. So much so, that I thought I deserved every unkind act he did to me. Every bruise, every fatigued muscle. And I begged for any crumb of affection he would bestow on me. His good girl. His perfect little whore. That stupid pretty face that hid such depravity. And I protected him! Only to be stabbed and left for dead. Never again!

Your exposed skin is covered in a sheen of perspiration, as you continue to lose yourself to the music. Uncaring of your scar on display in your sports bra and boy shorts as you sense a presence in the studio with you.

“Are you going to join me or just observe with your keen eyes?”

"Where'd you learn to dance like that?" Nat speaks up, walking into the room.

"I'm told it was my mother's favorite thing to do."

“You know you're really good?”

“At what exactly?”

“Wearing a mask. Putting on a brave face. Creating a stony exterior.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“I can see through the cracks though. However tiny they may be. That soft sweet center you try so hard to protect.”

“It’s worth protecting.” You stare her straight in the eye. “It’s the piece of me I never want to lose. It’s all the humanity I have left that wasn't beaten out of me. And one day, when Lucien lays dead at my feet and I can truly breathe again, I’ll be able to allow her softness to bleed back into my system. For the safety of my remaining sanity, I’ll keep that piece of me under lock and key for now.”

“I get it.” She nods. “Would you mind a partner while you work out whatever it is that haunting you? I could use a session myself.”

“By all means. I’d never pass up a free show from the Black Widow.”

Your phone vibrating against the smooth surface of your nightstand has you reaching over. There is only one person who would call you at this hour and expect you to pick up.

“Well hello there Da. Are you calling to check up on me once again or are you calling to assuage your curiosity of whether I still draw breath as we both know Luci is here.” 

"A bit of both. I just received a call from the aforementioned bane of our existence. Which is surprising, as I was under the assumption that he was trying to hide his little venture from me."

“He made an appearance at the Avengers Compound. Tried to make a big deal over my existence like somehow Stark would just turn me over. His mistake. Unfortunately, now he knows for sure that I am still very much alive. I’m not going to tell you to be careful because we both know you wont listen to that. So just keep your eyes open and I’ll take care of business over here.”

“Aye. That’s my girl. Keep me updated and let those Avengers have some fun with him as well. My treat.”

“You have my word. Night Old Man.”

“Night Petal.”

[ghoultrifle]

mushy may day seven !!!!

prompt: telling stupid jokes

characters: mount, aeon, cirrus, others mentioned vaguely

word count: 650

summary: what it says on the tin, really. mainly a poorly executed plot line around some of my favourite terrible jokes sdhfsdjkh

below the cut or on ao3 :))

“Oh Mount that was terrible,” Dewdrop says. “Truly awful, take it somewhere else man, it’s lingering like a bad fart.”

“So you don’t like my jokes now, huh? Seven was supposed to eat nine, not your sense of humour!”

A few of the ghouls are sitting in the common room. Recently back from a tour, they have few responsibilities to keep them busy during the day. Each ghoul has their own way of coping with the whiplash of tour days compared to cosy life back at the Ministry but Mountain has taken up reading a ‘One Hundred and One Jokes to Tickle Your Funny Bone’.

“No, I like them Mount, keep going,” Cirrus smiles. She’s happy the earth ghoul is keeping himself occupied, knowing all too well how easy it can be to spiral in these days before chores start up again.

“Okay okay… hmm what about this,” he says, thumbing through the pages as he bites his lip. “Two windmills are standing on a wind farm. One asks ‘What’s your favourite type of music?’” Mountain pauses for a very unnecessary dramatic effect. “The other says, ‘I’m a big metal fan.’” He slaps his knee and guffaws at the joke, letting out the heartiest of chuckles, rivalling that of a father like Omega. “Get it? Because we’re in a metal band,” he points out, painfully oblivious to the disinterest of his packmates.

Aeon, however, is having a great time. Compared with English, Ghoulish is a very direct language, more akin to those animals use to communicate about food and danger. So being topside and learning English with the pack also means being subjected to Mountain’s jokes and enjoying them. Everyone enjoys the jokes at some point, just most ghouls have heard them all too many times before. That’s the joy of new life- experiencing things for the first time- and Mountain takes pride in being able to give those experiences. The cogs turn in Aeon’s brain as he feels out for the punchline, “Oh, that was a good one!” He exclaims, making a mental note to tell it to Aurora when she gets back.

“I think you’ll like this one, Ae, have you heard the rumour about the butter?”

“No?” He answers cautiously.

“Never mind, I shouldn’t spread it,” Mountain smirks.

Aeon has a toothy grin adorning his face as he points finger guns at Mountain. “Woah, you got me good there Mounty!” He chuckles.

Cirrus looks on in adoration at the bonding between the ghouls before adding her own favourite silly joke into the mix. “Hey, what about this one?” She asks, garnering the boys’ attention. “How did Freud get his hair so soft and shiny?” With the psychoanalyst mentioned, several ears perk up to hear what they think will be the inevitable daddy-related punchline.

“He used classical conditioning!”

A wave of groans filter across the room along with a litany of jovial, light-hearted remarks at her genius joke.

“No, that one takes it, worst. joke. ever.”

“Freud is turning in his grave at that, Cir.”

“That was far worse than Mount’s, get out!”

A look of concern spreads across Rain’s face as the comments roll in, “Guys stop being so mean, it can’t be that serious.” Cirrus disagrees and repeats the joke for the water ghoul who was, at the time of the original telling, absorbed in his book. “Oh no, yeah, that was awful, you gotta leave.”

Cirrus chimes in, “Yeah! Part of telling awful jokes is the hilarious reactions you get. Aether once told me to get on a one-way flight to space and to this day it’s the greatest compliment I’ve ever received,” she says, reminiscing.

The evening descends into each ghoul telling the worst joke they can think of. Sighs, groans, and disappointed looks are rife, making the evening as enjoyable as it is.

[sev-on-kamino]

HIYA SEV!!! big congrats on the milestone!! feeling super proud and having lots of mushy feels for you my love! 🫶

okay now down to the business

clone: kix 🥹 (been on a kix fix recently)

color: pastel-y blue

time of day: evening, right when the sun disappears behind the horizon but it’s still light out, everything is calm and beautiful (my fav time of day)

nsfw or sfw, you decide! wherever your beautiful brain takes you!

much love 💕

hello there, h!!! thank you so much, and all the mushy feels back at ya 🥹🫶 I was mad nervous about this one because a) I want to make something super awesome for you, and b) Kix is my challenge clone 😅 But then I pulled up my Kix playlist, and this song jumped out and said “it’s my time to shine!!!”

so this was written to “Horizon” by Luna Blake

I hope you enjoy it 💙💙

warnings: oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, no pronouns, no physical descriptions, reader is wearing a skirt

As much as you loved your boys, you’d wandered off during shore leave to enjoy some time alone with your thoughts while the sun slowly merged with the horizon, giving you time to catch your breath and pretend things were like they were before when every day ended with the soft glow of the sun’s retreat and not the hum of the Resolute’s hyperdrive.

The sun had completed its daily farewell when Kix found you on the roof of the barracks, wrapping his arms around you from behind, as he greeted you with a soft kiss pressed to your temple, draping the soft blue blanket from your bunk over your shoulders, and you released the breath you’d been holding without realizing it, as you melted against his chest before turning slowly and looking up to see the way the fading light danced in his amber eyes.

He smiled softly at you, asking what was going on in that brilliant head of yours before taking a few guesses, ones that were obviously silly to make you laugh, some that were close, but none that were exact, so you put him out of his misery and told him you were thinking of before, but before didn’t have him, so it wasn’t a time you’d ever choose, which caused several emotions to flash across his face, sadness, hope, love before settling on the unspoken devotion that usually graced his features when he looked at you.

With that settled, the pair of you moved simultaneously, bringing your lips together decisively, a chorus of hums and wordless requests for more swirling in the air around the two of you, as Kix’s hands slid beneath your shirt, pulling your body up against his, and you were as pliant as ever at his touch, which made it clear that you belonged to him just as surely as he belonged to you, and that was his favorite part, belonging to and with you.

Kix allowed one of his hands to slide down your back and over your ass to lift the hem of your skirt, hooking his thumb into the waistband of your panties, he pushed them down, and he began kissing his way down your neck, and over your chest, as he sank to his knees in front of you, encouraging you to step out of your panties before tucking them into his pocket.

His hands smoothed their way up your legs, lifting one of them to rest over his shoulder, leaving you completely exposed to him, which made him lick his lips in anticipation before he turned his head to brush his lips over the delicate skin of your inner thigh, biting down and sucking gently to leave his mark while you moaned above him, running your fingers over his intricate buzz cut, tracing the lines before gently guiding his face to your aching, wet core, and he complied gladly, shifting slightly on his knees as his cock pressed insistently against his codpiece.

Kix ran his tongue through your velvety folds, circling your entrance before pressing two of his fingers inside of you while he licked his way up to your clit, his free hand gripped your thigh tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out, brushing over the devastating place inside of you that made you rock your hips into his face, and he refused to let up even after his name fell from your lips in ecstasy, as your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, and he couldn’t wait to lay you down and listen to your beautiful sounds the rest of the night.

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen @moon-wrecked @starqueensthings

[complete-idiot-inc]

RazLili Week 2024 - "Argue"

Based (loosely) on a fic made by my good friend @sxrrandomfanfics

Valentine's Day was encroaching, and unlike her idealistic concept of a girlfriend, Lili had no idea what to do for Raz. 

She considered mushy stuff like hearts, chocolate, and trinkets, DEFINITELY not flowers, though. But to her, Raz deserved better than any dime-a-dozen store-bought goodies. 

Oh, pardon me, I forgot to establish where we were. 

Lili was seated in a bean bag in Milla’s office, pouring her heart out to the older woman. 

“--and I just feel terrible about it!” Lili said, tears poking the corners of her eyes.

Milla used nothing short of precision-balanced maternal archetyping, child psychology, what she knew of Raz, and all of it cross-referenced by her relationship with Sasha to ensure that no matter what, Lili wouldn’t be upset by her answer and would gain something from it. 

“You want to know what Raz wants, but you want to ensure it's still a surprise?” Milla said quizzically, Lili nodding as she tried to reign herself in. 

“So… ask his Archetype. They don’t seem to share a conscious mind, and from what I know of archetypes, they come from a mixture of the subconscious mind and the collective unconscious, so he's bound to know without the real Raz noticing.” Milla concluded. 

A lightbulb went off in Lili’s brain as she got right up, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” then she ran right off to wherever her heart (and psychic link with Raz) led her. 

Later…

Raz was minding his business, eating noodles in, where else, the noodle bowl, when his girlfriend of less than a year strolled up. 

“Hey, Raz, can I loan Archie for a bit?” Lili faux-innocently asks her boyfriend. 

“Uhhh… sure Lili.” Raz says, surprised by Lili’s straightforward yet out-of-the-blue request. 

And sure enough, Raz summoned his Archetype, “Another day, another dollar.” 

“Thanks!” Lili took the paper boy with her and bolted away. 

Elsewhere

“Ok, Archie, now I got a crucial question for you,” Lili said, her eyes burning holes (metaphorically) into Archetype’s soul. 

The 2d copy sat there and thought as hard as he could, before he finally uttered the best possible response he could apparently muster. 

“I think we should see different people.” 

And just like that, he was gone. 

Now, it didn't take a scientist to see that something in Lili broke when that was uttered. 

Under a day, and several alternative pop-punk listened to later…

Raz was feeling something that he could only call “guilt”, but it was much weirder than that, it was like a phantom of someone else’s sorrow… so naturally he went to check on Lili. 

Currently the only thing between him and her was her dormroom door, but something deep in Raz’d mind warned him away of entering it, but he ignoered it and…

“RAZPUTIN DARTAGNAN AQUATO, YOU MOTHER FU–” 

[shellxrls]

to answer ur questions (2)

2. okay so this one really depends on his mood!!

if he’s had a stressful day, or has just been doing a lot of his ‘business’ then he needs to burn off some of that energy!! these are the times when he’s rough, no foreplay, just straight to the mating press. he absolutely does not use protection at these times (I’m on the pill also I scripted a male contraceptive pill that he’s on cause I’m smart like that) bc he literally does not have time to think to. also this man has a crazy breeding kink like he jst wants to fill me up with Cameron babies and who am I to complain!!

but literally at these times he does not hold back, spanking, choking, really fucking rough shit and he’s into it. also does not stop and ANYTHING but a safe word or action.

these are the times where he uses those degrading nicknames every single time he hits that mushy spot, or if he hears a whimper or a noise he absolutely degrades, that’s just his mindset, he needs something to take his anger out with!! by the end of it when he’s relaxed a bit I’ll normally take a bit more lead, yes he’s still in control but I’ll suck him off, or ride him or something that he doesn’t need too much work for. also atp my brain will be the effective consistency of baby food and I’m just obsessed with him in that mindset. jst need to help daddy out ugh I miss himmm.

he gets a bit gentler at that point but he still uses those degrading nicknames, maybe wraps a hand round my neck. or if I’m giving him a blowjob he pushes me righttt down.

top tier aftercare after these instances!! he’s acc very good and knows quite a bit about how the female body works, and he’s not one to let it be neglected.

if he’s a bit more relaxed, maybe after a day of just playing golf at the country club or something along those sort of lines he’s less rough. he’s generally more into praise. he also lovessss giving backshots esp cause he got me this cutie lil buttplug that he just loves to see!!

more foreplay when he’s like this, like previously stated maybe he’ll eat me out, or I’ll suck him off. also off topic but he loves having his balls sucked on <3

he goes a bit slower, and in general is a bit nicer about it, like I said praise is a big thing for him. he likes to apply things from his own life to our sex life. so like he knows that he himself likes to be validated to he makes sure I feel validated in bed.

sometimes there’s still a hand around the throat but most of the time he sticks to giving hickeys, normally on the tits cause this boy is a titty sucker he can’t even deny it.

if he’s giving backshots he likes to push on the lower back or put a hand on the lower tummy to feel it bulge when he thrusts in. amazing dirty talk too!!

he can also be a total exhibitionist, he’s not one to shy away from making me hump on him or his thigh in broad daylight at the country club or a party. if he’s dealing with Barry and I’m whining too much he’ll just stuff a hand down my skirt to shut me up!! he’s also so casual about it, absolutely will not stop a conversation, literally complaining avidly about something ward said while simultaneously making me grind on him like there’s no tomorrow. making nooo effort to shush my noises.

he’s the softest when he’s tired, sometimes I wake him up in the middle of the night cause I just need him!!! and he’ll be all groggy and tried but me nods and agrees. bringing me to jst hump on him or ride his cock real slow and intimate, talking me through it real nice cause he knows if I woke up in the dead of night like that I probably need taking care of well. lots of kisses and praise and shushes bc everyone’s still asleep. it’s so rare to catch him being so soft I swear and I love it when I do <33

- Rafe shifter

— context (for anyone who doesn’t understand)

firstly, thank you for writing this all out again omg ?? i rlly appreciate that you’re so willing to answer and in so much depth too <3 !!

MATING PRESS FOR THE WIN ! i knew it, and also male contraceptives that is so smart bcuz as u said mans has balls made for breeding apparently.

i’m surprised ab the aftercare tbh, i always thought he’d be kinda a one and done guy but to be fair i do understand that if you’re dating it wld be hard for him to just leave you in such a vulnerable position esp after such an intense fuck.

THE BACKSHOTS THING ARGH. knew it was big enough for him to feel inside of u and i knew he’d like feeling ur stomach bulge too.

sorry the casual dominance is actually killinggg me. that’s hot as fuck omg ?? sticking his hand down ur skirt ??? IN PUBLIC !! i need him so bad.

awwwe i love that he’s capable of being soft at times too omg, groggy sleepy sex is lowkey my favourite and it’s sooo <33 to know he can do it !!

[spikesbunny]

♥︎ DRINK ♥︎

+ warnings: intoxicated sex, both reader and spike are drunk, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, couch sex, semi-public? sex (you're fucking when everyones asleep in the common room so u tell me), slightly ooc spike, spike believes in fuck buddies, porn with an unnecessary amount of plot, does mention canon events slightly (such as julia, brief implication of vicious)

+ ft: spike spiegel x fem reader

+ wc: 1.1k

+ desc: you and spike regulary drank alone together once the crew was asleep. for some reason, tonight seems to be different, and the border between friendship or more is crossed.

+ notes: i fucking yapped way too much, this ones been sitting in the drafts a while lol

reposting from @/roronoaism, all content is mine!!

nsfw under cut, minors dni!!!

it was normal for two friends to enjoy drinking with your friend. it was normal to get tipsy enough that reality and your head blurred together in a sweet symphony. it was not normal to be staring at said drinking buddy and wondering how she looked in various positions.

you lay draped on the couch in the common room of the bebop, alternating between throwing back vodka shots with spike and sipping on the wine that sat neatly on the table.

your body was framed deliciously by the light, and spike couldnt tell whether it was his dick or the alcohol speaking for him. probably both.

the conversation had went down many paths since everyone else scampered off to bed, leaving the two of you to gossip and yap to your hearts content, the liquor causing words to flow unguarded.

"spike" you begin, turning to him. "have you considered finding a lover? a new girlfriend, or a guy, if that entertains you?"

commitment, yes. spikes (other, more 'alive') nemesis. julia had been his everything, but everyone (even poor ed) learned how tragic that love story had been - truly. yet somehow here you were, captivating his attention in only the way she could.

he had sworn off commitment since, it had only scarred him. "no" he finally replies. "i prefer something more 'in the moment'."

"ah, so fuck buddies?" you ask, sipping your wine.

damn you. the lipstick you wore left stains on the glass, sending blood straight down.

"sure, if you wanna put it like that." he sighed, taking a sip of his wine. "what about you, hm?"

"i prefer commitment, the feeling of having someone to call your own. so what if theres challenges, working them out together and learning together isnt too bad."

he nodded, getting up and sitting next to you. you take it as an invitation to drape you legs across his thighs, his brain short circuiting again.

"not surprised, you seem like a mushy romance typa gal"

"what, does the grandeur spike spiegel not like romantic gestures?" you coo teasingly, a faint blush creeping up his face.

"not really, my lifes too busy for that..." spike trails off, eyeing your body.

you roll your eyes, smirking. "i live the same life as you lot, doofus. i find the time. youre just scared."

yeah, thats it. not that he would ever admit it, especially not to you. it pissed him off how well you got him, yet oddly aroused him at the same time.

his hand mindlessly trails to your thigh, rubbing the skin exposed by your skirt.

silence fills the room, his hand burning your body. you werent complaining, it felt nice. oddly soothing.

"you know, i never considered fuck buddies. men are so... needy, and selfish at times." you finally chirp, his hand trailing higher.

"yea? maybe you just dont hang around the right crowd, not to discredit ya or anything" spike replies, his handing slipping onto your inner thigh, his pads fidgeting with the hem of your underwear.

where did he get this sudden surge of confidence, he had no clue.

you raised an eyebrow at him, before nodding, the words unspoken between you two.

his hand slipped under the garment, thumb ghosting your clit.

"i dont know what it is about ya, but for some reason, it makes me wanna dump any sort of reasoning i have."

you giggle, a manicured nail holding your head up. "that might be the alcohol, darlin."

your breath hitches as he teases a finger in and out of your entrance, never fully sinking it in.

"yea, and not you?"

"mm, maybe me. i do have my ways"

he nods, finally inserting a finger, slowly delving it in and out in a fluid motion.

"spike..." you manage, your mind rambling with an assortment of thoughts, dreams on the cusp of finally being born.

he takes the cue, inserting another, his thumb tracing circles on your clit still.

"maybe i want more than fuck buddies... i dont know, my mind still is racking the possibilities" he admits, planting kisses on your neck, inhaling the mixture of you and booze, an intoxicating aroma he never wants to forget.

his kisses trail to your chest, his lips covering any inch of skin he could access.

"you feel and smell so good, god your like a goddess, you know?"

"you give me too much credit, spike, were both tipsy, your probably hallucinating how good i am." you giggle again, his pace picking up, causing a moan to escape your lips.

"doubt it" he mumbles, capturing your lips in a kiss, need mixed with the left over taste of vodka and wine mixing in your mouth.

heat surges through your stomach, your climax approaching rather quickly. spike helps you ride it out, his fingers slowing down before finally, unfortunately, withdrawing.

he brings them to his mouth, licking them.

"fuck me, this is better than the booze." he groans, his hands grabbing at your sides, rubbing melodically.

"you think were done yet? havent even fucked me properly. after all, you wanted a fuck buddy, right?"

he stares at you. him?? fuck buddy? from the romanticism chick??

"but- you said-"

"you said it yourself, cowboy. somethin about you makes me wanna forget my rules and throw them to the wind."

he nodded, his hands flying to his sleep pants, discarding them as quickly as possibly.

"why do you gotta do this to me?" he whines, his lips attacking your neck, sucking at the skin and leaving hickies before gently kissing the area.

it felt like forever, before he finally sunk himself in. you groaned into his mess of hair, planting kisses to the top of his head as he began to rock his hips.

the bebop was quiet, the lights dim. the only hints of life were the snores softly pouring from jets room, and the unmistakable sound of sex and spike and yours drunken (and dully concealed) moans.

the headache from your intake of alcohol was dulled by the man in your arms, your hips colliding with his in a sloppily melody, both chasing after an orgasm and wondering what more could come from this?

what would your relationship be like now? friends has been crossed the moment he fingered you, and now he was balls deep in you, marking your neck as his. would you follow his wishes and ditch your dreams and be fuck buddies, or would he throw his pride to the side and be your lover, your boyfriend, your partner in crime?

the knot in your stomach snaps, sending you over the edge again alongside the brunette. he lays in your arms, your breathing almost in sync with his, lazy kisses pressed into your jaw.

silence falls again, as the two of you begin to doze off, leaving clean up and the discussions for the morning.

©2024 spikesbunny - please do not repost or translate my works on other media sites ♡