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criminalamnesia · 7 months

Note

the 141 x reader fic that you did was so yummy!!! pls make them suffer the wrath of reader and make 141 realise how much they need them when they leave,

your work is so amazing btw and your way with words is simply ✨chef’s kiss✨ (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

thank you!! here’s part 3 :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

angry didn’t even begin to describe how you felt as you slammed the door to price’s office behind you.

you were tense, muscles taut and poised to fight. your fists clenched at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms hard enough to hurt. your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding together as you resisted the urge to march back in there and unleash your fury.

no. not like this. not when you weren’t a hundred percent. not when they would still look at you like you were a wounded doe, stumbling around on broken legs.

in the back of your mind, you can hear that psychologist saying ‘this anger will eat you alive if you let it. you need to let it out somehow.’

you inhaled, unclenched your fists, and made up your mind. you pulled the iv from your arm, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

you left the iv pole standing there as you made your way to the gym.

the gym was empty when you arrived, which made sense for this time of day. many would be occupied by drills or in the mess hall. others would be sleeping off long nights. you had the place to yourself, and you were grateful for the absence of watchful eyes and sweetened tongues.

you were tired of those who knew nothing acting like they knew something. of those who apologized or asked if you were okay. word spread like wildfire around base, and the subject of your ‘betrayal’ had been front-page news since the start of the witch hunt.

the gym door clicked shut behind you, and you surveyed the room. you knew your doctor would have a fit once you returned to the infirmary, and that she probably wouldn’t let you out alone again, but you didn’t really care.

you needed to let off some steam, and the best way you knew how was with your fists. either you start swinging at a bag or at a certain someone’s face. the bag won’t be condescending, and that makes your choice easy.

you approach one of the bright red punching bags in the corner. it’s scratched and taped from where someone had busted it open. scars that didn’t go away, that wouldn’t— just like yours.

you huffed. it didn’t do any good to start feeling sorry for yourself. you hadn’t done anything wrong. your team had.

you stretch your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocking to pop your knuckles. you catch sight of your severed finger, still healing. they’d recovered what had been chopped off, but hadn’t been able to save it.

just another permanent reminder, something to make sure you didn’t dare forget. you didn’t think you ever would regardless.

you shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders back. fists raised, you angled yourself towards the bag. feet spread, shoulders squared, thumb tucked under your fingers instead of inside. a stance that was second nature after years of sparring and hand-to-hand drills.

the bag was firm when your fist connected with it. you would have been lying if you said it didn’t hurt. you punched with the other hand— same results. the time you’d spent confined to an infirmary bed had done a number on you. muscles had atrophied, bones had weakened. the leg you’d suffered a bone-deep cut to shook under your weight.

you didn’t care. you kept punching, your breathing picking up as your emotions guided you. sweat dripped into your eyes and rolled down your back. you felt weak, physically and mentally. you hated feeling this way, and so you punched harder.

“slow down,” a voice grumbled from behind you.

you ignored him, continuing to punch the bag. you hadn’t heard the door open, nor heard the sound of him approaching, but you would have been surprised if you did.

simon always had a penchant for sneaking up on people, intentionally or not.

“gonna pass out if y’don’t stop,” he said after a minute. you could feel his eyes on you. you ignored him again.

you didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing there with his arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.

“stop,” he says firmly, and you sense his movement as he surges forward. his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, pulling you back from the punching bag. you heave in a breath before spinning around and punching him in the nose.

simon stumbles back a step, eyes widened slightly. for someone who prided himself on being so observant, he clearly didn’t see that coming. it made you feel the tiniest bit smug that you’d caught him off guard for once.

you dropped your hands to your knees then, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over you. damn the bastard, he had been right. you shouldn’t have even been in here in the first place, let alone exerted yourself as much as you had.

your hands were shaking as you tried to pull yourself together. you opened your eyes to see drops of blood on the gym floor, by your feet. you had split your knuckles open.

there were also drops of blood at simon’s feet. you looked up then, slowly straightening your posture. he’d removed his mask, his face bare as he stared at you. blood dripped from his nose.

“gonna have to hit harder than that if y’want to break it,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“did you follow me in here?”

“no.” he says, and you’re giving a mirthless laugh.

“oh, please. im sure price sent you, yeah? you’ve always been his little lap dog. he says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high,’ isn’t that right, lieutenant?”

your tone is tense, angry. you throw his title in his face, seeing as he’d been so quick to remind you of yours back in price’s office.

simon watches you, and you want to tackle him. he had always been quiet, always stoic. you’d been with him for years, but you still didn’t think you’d broken down all of his walls.

he was so good at masking his thoughts, his feelings. you weren’t. soap had always called you an open book. whenever you were mad or upset, everyone knew it.

no one knew anything about simon unless he wanted them to. it drove you mad then, and it was sure as hell driving you mad now.

“you need to get back to the infirmary,” he tells you. he wipes the back of his hand under his nose, smearing red across his skin. for a moment, you want to chastise him, reach up and wipe the remnants from his face.

you quickly shake that thought from your head. what is it they say— old habits die hard?

these habits would die if you had to strangle each one with your bare hands. anything you harbored for the four men on your team, for the one you’d called yours, was dead and gone.

“fuck off,” you tell him.

“why are you so damn stubborn?” he says then, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him start to crack since everything had happened. emotions are beginning to leak through his stony exterior, whether he means them to or not.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. none of you do,” you say, and you take a step forward then, eyes blazing as you stare up at him. “not after what you did.”

he doesn’t speak for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. his eyes never leave yours.

“it shouldn’t have happened like that.” he tells you. you scoff.

“like that? you mean the four of you torturing me? tying me up and mutilating me like I was just another fucking target?” your voice was rising as you took another step forward, shoving a finger into his chest.

“if I’d treated you like another target,” he said, tone even. “you would’ve been dead.”

“so you showed me mercy, is that it?” you bared your teeth, a hollow laugh escaping your throat. “oh, thank you simon. I really felt that fucking mercy when you cut off my finger, and when you cut through layers of skin to get to bone.”

you inhaled before continuing. “I should be grateful then, right? is that what you want from me? for me to recognize your fucking ‘mercy’ and take you back? take you all back?”

he just stands there. you can see his jaw clench, but he makes no move to speak. you find it funny that he hasn’t even tried to apologize. john, your ever prideful captain, had swallowed his failure and pleaded for your forgiveness.

johnny and kyle would surely have done the same if they’d had the chance to speak to you, even if they only had a minute.

but simon? simon doesn’t. he doesn’t outwardly admit his wrongs. he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t seem sorry, even. you don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but you find yourself not really caring to know.

the fact that he can’t bring himself to admit, in blunt words, that he had astronomically fucked up and that he felt even the slightest bit of remorse, told you everything you needed to know.

cold, stoic ghost. you hadn’t been afraid of him when you’d first joined the squad, and you weren’t afraid of him now.

but back then, you’d wanted to break down those stone walls of his. you’d wanted to be someone he felt safe around, someone who knew him inside and out.

now, you’re packing your time with him into a box in your mind and dumping it into the trash. simon riley means nothing to you now.

“take your mercy and shove it up your ass,” you tell him. you step back and drop your hand, your eyes still locked on his.

“and by the way,” you say as you start towards the door. he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t move an inch. it’s as if he’s rooted to the spot.

“you should’ve just killed me.”

author’s note:

not really sure how I feel about this one tbh. I have plans for a part four, but I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be making this series.

and as for simon— I want to write an extra part about his thoughts/feelings about everything. let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

anyways, let me know your thoughts please :) (I honestly may end up deleting this and rewriting it when I’m not tired lol)

taglist: @preeyansha @igotmajordaddyissues @nanatheoaktree @aesthetic0cherryblossom @oceanicexolorer @soph121212 @liv2post @cupid-eclipse @angels-despair18 @k4marina

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keroppri · 1 year

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i didn't pay any mind with the dates in my fanfic and now nothing in the timeline makes any sense 😭😭😭😭

#how am i supposed to incorporate The Letter properly #eight years and a half ago ...#i already have it set where they get together in like 7-8 months time and thats around spring/summer of the following year #but then their breakup is sometime in late spring ....... so late spring + 8yrs and half ? that ain't mathing #so that line doesn’t exactly work .. but i also DO NOT want to remove it cuz i love it so much #just ignore the messed up timeline pls i have no way of fixing it and math is sooooo hard already 😭😭😭😭😭#ramble

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rae-writes · 8 months

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OnlyFantoms???

om brothers x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : nsfw, gn!reader with skirt wearing (mammon, satan), panties/lingere wearing (satan, asmo), online sharing

synopsis : let's see what the latest trending porn videos are

a/n : for some reason, tumblr desktop is making the symbols bold and way bigger than they're supposed to be, so if you're on desktop just ignore how that looks :/

being asked about it in a livestream

Your legs are spread open for the camera, hooked over your boyfriend’s with no chance of closing them, while his hand is shoved down the front of your bottoms. The other roams your body— sliding up your shirt and wrapping around your throat. Your arms are clearly straining themselves as they hold your body up, all so you could rock your hips against Lucifer’s fingers; though the view is covered by your clothes, the slick sounds are all too clear, giving away how aroused you really were. When your arms finally give out and you fall back against his chest, there’s a shift in the air that you can practically feel as his bicep flexes under the fabric of his shirt, free arm yanking you up higher on his lap so he can finger you harder. Over the sound of your moans and cries for him to ‘please let me cum, been s’good for you, please please please’, you can hear Lucifer’s signature low chuckle and the faint sound of his shaky breathing before he’s giving you permission, outright laughing when you squeal and jerk in his grasp. His hand slips from your bottoms, and though his face isn’t in frame, it’s clear he’s licking your cum off his fingers right before the video cuts off.

Good grades get rewarded | 0:45 seconds | 108.k views | 100.k likes | 97.k comments

Lucifer?!

Hand cam hand cam hand cam

Dude, isn’t Mc a straight A student? THIS IS WHAT THEY GET FOR EVERY A??

I’d good grades too if I had the morning star behind me like this

^I’d get good grades if I could have Mc in my lap like this tf

†

Panting and moaning fill the dim atmosphere, mixing in with the faint sound of slapping skin as large hands push and pull at your hips. The camera is positioned only to catch your lower bodies, but through the dark you can still catch the bobbing of Mammon’s adams apple and the curve of your mouth as you place kisses along his jaw. His grip on your hips makes your skirt ride up higher and higher, showing more and more slivers of skin until your entire ass is on display. There’s a shine- the mix of your cum and his- everytime he pulls you up, only to disappear with a filthy ‘shlick’ as he yanks you back down onto his cock. There’s a natural haze to the lens and the windows are entirely fogged up— sweat is beading and rolling down his exposed chest, showing you’ve been at this much longer before the recording ever started. By now, the second born has started emitting whiny growls as he switches to grinding you and the audio picks up a nearly inaudible choked out version of your name before his arms are circling around you and he’s lifting you up slightly with his last thrust. It’s quiet as you pet his hair while he’s busy massaging your waist- and then you're reaching over to grab the camera with a giggle, angling it to see the mess you’ve both made over your clothes. There’s a hushed ‘Lucifer’s gonna kill us-!’ before the screen goes black.

Greed is the name of the game | 2:45 minutes | 95.k views | 91.k likes | 86.k comments

A Y O???

PLS mammon sounded so hot

I don’t know who I’m jealous of or who I’d rather be rn

I wanna be the car

Come get y’all’s dinner, we’re eating good toDAY

†

The pretty lighting of the fish tank washes over you, highlighting the red scratch lines trailing down Levi’s abdomen to where you’re placing kisses along his hips and pelvis. The sounds are a bit exaggerated- both to make the demon squirm in embarrassment- and because you’ve got the hood of his jacket thrown up to cover your face. Levi’s got his arms pressed close to his chest, hands gripping the controller so hard the plastic creaks every so often; you can hear the shooting from his game and the frantic mashing of buttons. When you finally take his cock in your mouth, seen by your head bobbing at a fast pace, a loud moan rips from his throat and his hips begin thrusting against your ministrations. The room is filled with whines and whimpers, begs to ‘please go faster’, and your amused laughing. There’s a distinct pop when you pull off his cock and replace your mouth with your hand, all so you could lean up and slam your lips against his. Levi throws the controller to the side, hands scrambling to grab the back of your head and the wrist of the hand that’s jerking him off. He’s practically brainless now as he cries and begs for you to make him cum, switching between that and making those lewd, slick, noises whenever your tongue plays with his. When you command him to cum, he shrieks at the intensity, pulling you closer and closer until you're on top of him and his cum is streaking your clothes. There’s a meek ‘I’m sorry’ and the sound of your giggling before your hands go to the waistband of your pants and the video cuts off.

Motivation for true gamers | 1:30 minutes | 87.k views | 85.k likes | 74.k comments

Making these sounds my alarm as we speak

WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN

Suddenly I’ve become a master gamer

Never picked up a controller in my life but I’m otw to buy one rn

Reverse the roles please I beg!!

†

There’s a fairly large spellbook in your hands as you sit on your boyfriend’s lap at one of the library tables; he has his head buried in the crook of your neck, fingers digging at your hips as he subtly rocks you back and forth over his cock. The side profile shows only your skirt bunched up to your upper thighs and lace green panties tugged down to your knees— everything is completely covered, even when Satan gets bold and begins bouncing you up and down. No sounds are made except for a faint creaking of the chair and the spellbook thudding against the table when your back arches. All movements halt when someone’s shadow passes by, but as soon as they’re gone, your arms reach back to wrap around Satan’s neck, fingers burying in his blonde locks and tugging desperately. You can’t help the way you begin fucking Satan without his guidance or the way short whimpers begin falling from your lips. He lets out a low hiss, wrapping a hand around your mouth harshly to keep things quiet, all while he pushes you forward to bend over the table as he stands. He pounds at you roughly, using the fabric of your skirt to keep your skin from slapping together. The frantic pace doesn’t stop until he’s got you shaking from your orgasm and he’s following along with a muffled growl. Only then does he let go of your mouth and kiss at where his fingers dug in a little too roughly, massaging over your hips as he whispers about a ‘another study session well done’ before the video cuts.

Shh— quiet in the library | 5:00 minutes | 91.k views | 87.k likes | 82.k comments

regretting never getting into reading after this

what days do you two go to the library, asking for a friend

my face was pressed up against the screen the entire video

can I be the bookmark

putting in my librarian application asap

†

It was a sight that would be found in the best of porn magazines: your body on display with a pretty- expensive- champagne lingerie set that matched the fifth born’s hair color to a tee, while Asmo himself was completely bare, smiling face all dolled up and in frame. What made it even more delicious was his manicured fingers wrapped around his own cock, sliding along the slick area as he gave breathy moans and laughs, all while resting his head on your thigh to watch you pleasure yourself as well. Each bite and lick he delivered to your skin was slow and drawn out, matching the pace each of you were going— but one sharp tug to Azzy’s locks made his back arch with a sharp cry, eyes flashing pink. It’s a blur as he yanks you on top of him, lace-covered ass now on full display for the camera as it bounces along with his movements. The noises are so beautifully vile as you both grind against one another, moans reflecting back that get louder and louder the harder he pulls you down. A few whiny ‘I’m gonna cum!’ exclamations escape him before he forces his cock in you at the last second and practically screams with how intense it made everything feel. There’s thirty seconds of sweet talk and giggling before he’s lifting you up bridal style and you both wag your fingers at the camera before the video ends.

Dress up, dress down | 8:15 minutes | 123.k views | 117.k likes | 103.k comments

I can die happy now

FOR FREE?!?!

I can’t decide who sounds better or looks better

^the answer is both

thank you for the fIVE COURSE FUCKING M E A L

†

The sound of running water does nothing to hide the sharp sounds of slapping skin or the rumbly growls Beel is letting out. His wings are sparkling under the shower spray, fluttering rapidly as he fucks into you; his muscles flex with each movement, practically showing off to the camera since he has his backside facing it. Your legs, lifted up to his shoulders with your knees to your ears, and your hands gripping tightly at his horns are the only part of you that can be seen. Your voice echoes, though, loud and whiny moans that hitch each time he delivers a harsher thrust. You can see his hands wandering, unable to pick a place to grip or knead underneath his fingertips, just like his head keeps tilting or ducking down to scatter kisses and bites and hickeys over your skin. When his pace finally falters, it’s due to his stuttering hips and an unrestrained moan tears from his throat, followed by ‘c-cumming! G’na cum inside, fuck, fuck—!’ You can see his knees buckle a bit and your hands white-knuckling his horns. He gives a few frantic thrusts before he crushes your body against him and stills, letting the water cascade down your bodies with content sighs. The sound of a door opening echoes, followed by laughter from multiple people, before you’re whispering ‘now how are you gonna sneak me out?’ and the video cuts black.

A filthy cleaning | 6:26 minutes | 89.k views | 78.k likes | 72.k comments

Can we talk about his sheer strength?? The muscles?? The effortless pace??

THAT ASS THO

ain’t never seen a more lucky human

Is that…the Fangol’s locker room showers-

I— please??

†

For a moment, there’s only giggling and the rustling of blankets to be heard as you crawl onto Belphie’s lap— whose face is completely hidden by the plush pillows surrounding him. There’s a faint huff from the demon as you begin grinding on his lap, which quickly devolves into groans the harder you press against his bulge. It’s not long before he’s full on moaning, though not yet awake, and you’re lifting yourself up to take his cock out. His oversized shirt you’re wearing hides you well- only showing enough skin to tell you weren’t wearing underwear- and shields the way you fist his cock before lining it at your entrance. Belphie stirs then, voice coming out hoarse as he calls your name groggily. You drop down, not bothering to go slow, and the seventh born lets out a high pitched whine, hips raising in surprise before he’s flush against the bed again, letting you fuck him till your hearts content. You do exactly that, with your hands pressed to his chest for support, and his own clawing desperately at your thighs. His voice remains in a higher pitch, moaning and whining and whimpering, getting louder and louder until you let out a sharp demand for him to cum, and then he’s cumming with a broken gasp— all Belphie can do is give choked cries when you keep rocking your hips and the video ends after hearing your ‘nu-uh, baby, not done yet. Still want more.’

Wake up call | 7:30 minutes | 84.k views | 80.k likes | 75.k comments

holy fuck I wanna be belphie so bad

why don’t I get woken up this way wtf

This! Is! How! You! Do! It! People!

Can— can we just. Talk about that WHINE THOUGH?!

The grip on their thighs and hoarse moans are sending me

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slvttyplum · 4 months

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Yn arguing with the JJK men about her not running from dick, so they record her for “evidence” (Gojo, Geto, Nanami, and Toji pls or you can just pick whoever you think this resonates best with) btw I love your blog🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

suguru hated when you lied about the littlest things, because why? you didn't just lie about anything, though; it was about how you were in bed. he had observant eyes; he knew what got you soaking and what had you squirming and whining, so of course he got defensive when you denied every one of those things with a straight face, and even when he told you that no, you were lying, you would still deny it.

being who he was, he got irritated a little too quickly when it came to this topic, so he did what he had to do, whipping that camera out while he was fucking you.

he was going to do it sneakingly while he had you in that one position that you were squirming and running from him in. placing you on your stomach and pushing your lower back as you had your ass in the air, making sure his phone was within arm reach, and placing both hands on your ass and sliding himself in.

a sharp gasp as he keeps sliding into you, not expecting to feel all of him at once, your hands balling a handful of the sheet as you keep your hands open and your eyes squeezed shut. he wasn't stopping; he wanted to make sure that you were a crying and moaning mess, and he succeeded.

you were so fucked out of your mind that you couldn't stop, pushing yourself into him with a wet face as you felt every inch buried deep inside of you, the tip of his dick pressing on your sweet spot, and your walls clinging around him.

he had to suppress his whimpers due to the intense pleasure he was experiencing. grabbing his phone to record how well you took him, watching through the screen your wetness covering his dick every time you slid off his dick and back on, your pretty crying from the pleasure crashing down on you.

when it started to get too much, you did what he always claimed you did, grabbing forward and trying to tap out, but that wasn't going to happen.

he wanted to make sure you took every fucking inch, even when you didn't think you could. he knew how you responded to him, but once you started to get overstimulated and squirmed from his every touch, he knew that's when you had enough, but he didn't.

suguru didn't just stop here, though; he needed evidence, so he made sure to do this multiple times and in multiple positions, his camera roll filled with all the videos of you going crazy on his dick while whining out his name to give you more.

he almost felt bad at recording his most intimate moments with you, but he just had to remember he was proving a point, until he was purposely fucking you until the early morning, when your eyes were swollen from your crying and he could barely cum anymore.

a point was made, so he decided to finally test out what you were going to say when he asked you, having all the videos in one folder so he could pull them out when needed.

"you run from dick, and it gets exhausting, baby." teasing you while pulling out his phone, knowing it'd get you riled up. he knew you liked the back of his hand because it did.

"shut the fuck up, i don't." crossing your arms and your mouth widening while suguru shows you the multiple videos of you getting your shit beat in, embarrassment covering your face as he turns up the volume.

"come on, baby... there we gooo. you take me so well."

he can safely say that you never tried to lie your way out of those accusations; instead, you groan and ignore him.

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bywons · 3 months

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✢ ⠀ CRAWLING BACK TO YOU — PJS

━━━ ❛ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

( 𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝓓𝖤𝖢𝖮 ) 𝗉𝗃𝗌 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 ` ィ 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾? 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 1334 𝑤𝖼 && CATALOUGE

✦ PLS REBLOG if u enjoyed !! | click me 𝑖𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈

“glad to kn-know i'm still relevant in your world,” jay pushes the door aside, stumbling to the side of your apartment door. back pressed against it with his head held high, he shoots you a smug smirk as he's almost about to slide down. “i knew you miss me, darling.”

he's drunk, it's clear as day. you don't miss out the little silver flask almost falling off from his hand and how he reeks of alcohol, who knows how many drinks he had this night. you don't even remember why you called him in the first place, it's 3 in the morning— both too early and late and scandalous to call a person, especially when it's your ex. especially when it's a drunk park jongseong.

“jay,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “what are you doing here?”

he chuckles, his laugh a mix of genuine amusement and intoxicated sloppiness. “you called, so here i am,” he says, attempting to stand up straighter but failing miserably. “couldn't leave you hanging, could i?"

you groan internally, cursing your impulsive decision. “fuck me,” you mutter. “come in before you wake up the whole building.” you literally drag him into your apartment before shutting the door close. jay collapses on the couch, a faint smirk still directed at you.

did you call him? everything in the past hour has been so obscure that you didn't even notice the dry tears on your cheeks until now, when a cool breeze caresses it, leaving an odd stretchy feeling against your dry skin. maybe it's a few glasses of wine, or a drunk call? maybe you called him to deal with the cockroach in your room which you know you can deal with yourself. or maybe it's the overwhelming loneliness that's been gnawing at you lately. regardless, calling jay at 3 in the morning wasn't your smartest move.

“now, why'd you call me?,” ah of course, now he will want to talk about your break up. he can barely make sentences, words overlapping each other in a somewhat coherent sentence, “3 am is definitely your timing.”

and the best way to ignore a drunk talking park jongseong? offer him water to sober down, because heck you can't understand anything. neither him nor this situation.

grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you hand it to him, watching as he struggles to sit up and open it before finally taking a sip.

“why did you call me?" he asks, voice softer now. the redness of his eyes and the bravado in his voice fading. he looks up at you, only a hands’ distance away from where he's sitting.

“i need you to ah—,” shit. eye contact with park jongseong still has the same effect on you, “help me move some furniture. you know, crazy landlady.” you let out a chortle.

“moving furniture? at 3 am?,” jay narrows his eyes, gaze piercing through you, it's obvious he doesn't believe you, “do i seriously have the word dumb tattooed across my face?”

jay doesn't move an inch from his place, eyes lying still on yours, an unspoken connection that's been missed by you both, a connection so palpable and mellow that it's still a residue in this messed up relationship. you realise how much you miss his eyes— he moves your heart by them and he's still. you wish you could kiss him right now, does he want that too? after all, why wouldn't he want that? no man is willing to stumble to their ex's apartment at 3 in the morning in a drunken state. that too after just one call which could've been an accident? jay definitely wants you back.

“no, no at all jay, i'm really—”

“you were with heeseung last week,” jay doesn't let you finish explaining yourself— before he gives you another mishap to explain. his eyes narrow down even more, he catches his lips between his teeth, “...i didn't like that.”

“you should've closed your eyes and walked out of the bar then, jay,” you snap. it's quite insufferable for park jongseong to be furious over the consequences of his actions. you had to return home late at night, and with no car how could you? you don't trust cabs at that hour, but you do still trust your ex. and when even the last option opts out himself you're left with something out of syllabus— his best friend. you have to go home! “don't start with that.”

“fair, want me to start with fixing ’seung?,” jay's words are colder than the flask he's carrying.

“jay you better not—”

“oh i won't,” jay scoffs, evident jealousy laced in his voice, “i have better things to do.”

it's only a split second, and you don't know when or how you end up under him on the sofa, his hand softly clasping around your wrist and the other encircling your waist. jay entangles his legs with yours, an impossible knot to get out of. there's still a drunken reflection in his eyes as he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, hand caressing your cheeks. his eyes stunt yours, you're suddenly unable to speak as you feel his lips press down yours. they sloppily trace down to your cheeks to your jaws and neck. jay giggles in between, probably at your sudden silence, and the way he feels your hands pull his collar closer to you.

that's the most basic method to try and get back your ex. but you don't find yourself stopping him.

“so, this is the better thing?,” you scoff when you look up at him, jay leaves a final kiss on the crook of your neck before he hovers over you again.

his silver chain dangles from his neck, the coldness of it caressing the bridge of your nose, sending an electric wave down your spine. pairing up with his smug eyes and lazy grin is the deadliest combo ever, it's not good for you at all. should you really get back with him? kiss this better with him?

“the best thing,” jay whispers, “don't know why heeseung even tries,” he rolls his eyes, “you're mine, he should use his eyes.”

“am i really yours?,” you sigh, your hold on his black shirt's collars loosening as your eyes become glossy at the thought of something disturbing, “i saw you…with someone else too.” it felt weird somewhere to feel betrayed when you see some random girl clinging to your ex, even though you know jay probably brushed her off later but you didn't wait to see the scene.

“oh no no, love,” you expected jay to panic and chant ‘it was a mistake’, but you're glad he didn't live up to this expectation. he's confident about what he says, as he moves lower and closer to your face, tracing the bridge of your nose to your jaws, “i'm too busy being yours, there's no someone else.”

“aren't you being a little cheesy?,” a tiny smile hangs on your lips, threatening to turn into a laugh, as you play with his collars.

“can't even tell the truth now?,” it's his turn to grin, he takes your hand in his and places a soft kiss.

you can't help but let out a soft giggle at his words. it's only been a month since you two broke off, but jay still finds his way back to you, like you do too. at this moment jay's world is silent. this is the moment he's been waiting for. sober, with you, kissing you all over with a hope of a new starting. you are his vibrance, he can't afford to lose it.

“i could do anything for you. sorry i failed to make this clear earlier,” his smug expression is back on again.

“anything to come back to me?”

“anything i would die for you, fight for you,” jay confirms, and just like that his lips are back on yours again, “do you want me crawling back to you?”

a/n — uuuhh can u guess this was kinda a hurried writing TT i'm not really satisfied with this but I hope u enjoyed it ^^ pleek lmk ^^

📌 :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! nets. @.k-labels @enchive tags ⭒ @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belovedsthings @moond1or @oddracha @shinrjj @nishislcve @luvlyhee @laylasbunbunny @junislqve @jlheon @hyeinism @jakesangel @okwonyo ⭒

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sl4sh3rsub · 1 year

Text

rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)

rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum

a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting

if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection

he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft

so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf

mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace

he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<

if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie

if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste

he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back

michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you

he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support

you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you

he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length

mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him

he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily

he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them

mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly

michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard

when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls

oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night

in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it

mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you

his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation

he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(

michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started

mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3

initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction

his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability

will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over

for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately

he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily

if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out

michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3

he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust

he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy

while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)

michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length

when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???

michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)

he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down

mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time

he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold

he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen

when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him

his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds

he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you

he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin

mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death

the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(

on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock

myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips

if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<

michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure

michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out

he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while

if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils

he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks

if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions

he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3

occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace

his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<

his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs

michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets

he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace

after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours

if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well

whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could

he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)

if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you

the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin

cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work

if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over

of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole

whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him

he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)

his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants

michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back

he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress

once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat

his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets

leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy

his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs

he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)

teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth

once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears

sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you

his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him

due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery

loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside

sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access

the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you

he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin

he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one

when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction

he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'

mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)

as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman

_ _ _ _ _

sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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killakalx · 5 months

Text

17+ content, blank blogs dnf

threesome (bruce x reader x selina), sex toys, overstim, begging, very brief double penetration. first time writing for both of them so pls give me grace

they’re no good together. no, too good together. too good at breaking you, reverting you to a wet and squirming mess at his mercy while she holds you in faux comfort.

“bruce,” you cry to him, legs trembling and cunt twitching around the silicon he’s stuffed inside you over and over, too many times to even count. a little vibrator buzzes at your clit again and you sob, thighs snapping together as salty tears bubble under your lashes. “bruce- I can’t, ‘m done, please…”

his eyelids hang low and large hands grip the underside of your thighs, giving what you can only assume is a glare of impatience. “you’re not done,” he corrects, a light slap landing on your swollen clit that has you flinching open. god, he’s insane- you’re leaking around the thing, lips quivering and clawing at sheets, begging for mercy, yet he’s got the nerve to tell you you’re not done.

he’s mean, you realize, and only one arm is needed to leave you vulnerable while the other force’s the thick toy deeper into your cunt. his tongue rolls along his lips, almost in concentration as he stares you down; no indications of his own arousal are clear, but his enthusiasm for abusing your sore and puffy pussy speak volumes.

“I know you can give me another one,” bruce states in a matter-of-fact tone, brows furrowed further when you still attempt pushing him away. “and I know you want to.” the hint of irritation in his voice alludes to dangerous outcomes- hold out on him any longer and he’ll make sure this doesn’t get better for you. he reads you inside and out without missing even one line. bruce knows what makes you tick- what makes you cry, beg, even demand more. he’s almost insulted that you’d even try to withstand his ministrations, and the vibe against your sensitive nerves kicks up a notch.

“be nice, brucie,” selina chimes in with a little tut, pretty and nimble hands tracing your collarbone and jawline. the delicate scratch of her nails send shivers up your spine and you whine at the faux sympathy. “we’re just prepping her, remember? save the brooding act for later.” shit, just prepping?

“oh my god,” you gasp, not even a second before that coil of overwhelming tension breaks, clinging desperately to selina’s arm as your body convulses. you hold onto her as if she’s your final thread, the only thing stopping you from passing out, and the sentiment has her smirking. “fuck, selina, make him… please- just make him…” the man torturing your cunt exchanges a sly look to his counterpart, a low groan from the depths of the throat prompting you to look down.

“aw, make him what? make him keep going?”

she’s evil.

they’re both evil.

“just greedy,” selina coos, only now choosing to ignore your more elaborate pleas of clarification. your mouth hangs open with drool near the corners, and you’ve seemingly resorted to the gods above to grant you mercy- then her thumb drags down your lip and rests on your tongue. it quiets you down as she shushes you, gaze landing back on hers. “greedy, isn’t she…”

“since you want me to be so nice,” bruce hums as the head of his cock prods at your pussy, not even bothering to move either of the toys; fuck, you feel like you’ll die from how much he stretches you out. “i’ll give her what she wants so bad.” ❧

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ellecdc · 7 days

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hii!! i rlly like your writing and was wondering if you could do a request ? remus (or wolfstar ) x reader where its like posthogwarts and she went to a diff wizarding school and the wizard thing was hush hush cuz she was a muggle, but then one day she like accidentally uses magic and they were like “ omg wait what” and like yeah. anyways pls feel free to ignore this its a very odd request LMAO. thank you so so much for taking the time to read this !!! (im sorry if this sounds weird i dk how to talk to ppl) ok bye 🫶

this was a very cute prompt! thank you so much for your request and your patience in my writing it!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who they believe to be a muggle [1.8k words]

CW: fear of werewolf prejudice, fear of muggle born prejudice, I also included a line in French and you can find the translation at the bottom of the work

Sirius knew that they were, perhaps, being a little bit selfish by keeping such a big secret from you.

Statute of Secrecy be damned, they were well beyond the point in your relationship where they could have (and likely should have) told you that he and Remus were wizards (oh, and, while we’re at it, Remus turns into a beast once a month so there’s that, too).

And while their friends all suspected it was Remus who was hesitant to tell you the truth on account of his lycanthropy, it had actually been Sirius who kept procrastinating the long overdue conversation.

But Sirius had to admit that he was very scared to tempt fate, because meeting you had been a complete fluke and he wasn’t willing to muck it up by scaring you off. How many times in one life did someone get the chance to meet a perfect angel?

Sirius had already met Remus which felt like nothing short of destiny, and then they met you, and that felt prophetic. And who was Sirius to mess with the prophecy?

“You cannot chicken out tonight.” Remus muttered as Sirius rapped on your door, earning him an indignant scoff from his boyfriend.

“I’ve never once chickened out in my entire life, thank you very much. That’s why I was sorted into Gryffindor.”

Remus merely snorted. “Sure, that’s why this is our seventh attempt at breaking the news, yeah?”

Sirius refused to look at Remus before banging (slightly louder) on your door once more before you finally opened up.

Gods you were so bloody beautiful; smiling like you couldn’t physically be any happier that your two boys were here, eyes excited and bright and so full of love and fuck sakes he couldn’t do it.

“Hey dove.” Remus greeted for the both of them, seeing as Sirius’ brain was short circuiting on account of your beauty and loveliness, pressing a kiss to your hairline and all but shoving Sirius past the threshold of your door. “It smells amazing, what are you making?”

Your smile seemed to grow impossibly brighter at the praise. “A vegetable bake! It’s sort of Mediterranean, and I’m making pasta to go with it.” You explained excitedly, and Sirius honestly felt like he was going to start overflowing with the amount of fondness he had for you.

“You going to say hello to our girl, Siri? Or are you just going to keep staring at her?” Remus taunted as he walked further into your flat to place the flowers he was carrying for you in a vase - the routine of bringing you bouquets every time they visited so practised that he knew where to find your vases.

“Of course, gorgeous. Sorry for being rude.” He murmured as he pulled you into his chest and breathed you in. “You’ve got to stop answering the door looking so bloody beautiful; I completely forget myself.”

You giggled into his chest and then leaned on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips that he - the selfish bastard - didn’t find nearly enough before he pulled you into a second deeper, lingering kiss.

“It’s good to see you, Sirius.”

Sirius sighed happily - because really, it was even better to see you - as he shuffled the two of you towards the kitchen Remus was now fussing in.

“Beautiful!” You cheered as Remus positioned the bouquet in the middle of your kitchen island; and Sirius could see the mischief in Remus’ eyes even if you couldn’t.

“Just like you, dove.”

And, quite possibly one of their favourite sights, they watched you turn bashful as you opted to fuss with the arrangement instead of looking at either of them.

“Listen, sweetheart, we were wondering if perhaps before we eat, we could chat with you about something?” Remus decided to rip the bandaid, and Sirius wanted to hex him for the way your body tensed and you looked at him with what appeared to be mild horror.

“Oh- uhm, okay, yeah, sure that’s… that’s fine.” You stuttered as you moved to the kitchen table to take a seat, both boys following obediently.

Sirius watched as Remus moved last week's bouquet - which Sirius had secretly cast a stasis charm over so that they would last longer - out of the centre of the table and closer to Sirius so that they could both have a better view of you.

“Is…everything okay?” You asked cautiously as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt. Sirius wanted to throw up.

“Of course, dovey.” Remus assured you, though it was Sirius’ thigh he gave a comforting squeeze under the table. “We just know that we’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and we’ve grown to care about you quite a lot- you know that, right?”

Sirius watched as the divot between your brows only deepened as you nodded hesitantly. “So much, gorgeous; we care about you so much.” He insisted when it didn’t look like you truly believed them.

“But we just, well, we haven’t been completely honest with you, is all. And now that we’re at this point in our relationship, we…we feel like we owe it to you to be honest.” Remus continued, clearly beginning to feel just as out of his depth as Sirius was.

Your face fell completely blank, though Sirius could tell you were still tugging nervously at your shirt sleeve.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t bad, we- I rather think I’m in love with you, and-”

But as Sirius went to reach his hand over to rub at your arm in a way he hoped to be comforting, he ended up knocking over the vase stationed in front of him.

It didn’t break, thank Merlin, but it did topple over before Sirius could catch it and the water poured over the table.

Remus went to stand quickly to avoid being soaked, but no sooner had he pushed his chair away from the table was the vase floating towards you and the water completely vanished.

Not looking at the boys in front of you, you righted the vase and repositioned the florals to your liking before looking up at Remus who was now standing and staring at you owlishly, and Sirius who was gaping at you from his seat.

“Did you just-” Sirius started, voice no more than a whisper, but was quickly cut off by the sound of a timer in the kitchen.

You waved your hand in that direction mindlessly before sinking back despondently in your chair and staring down at your lap, the timer silent.

“Y/N.” Remus rasped. “Did- was that…are you a witch?”

You appeared to flinch as if you’d just realised what you’d done before you looked up; all colour seemingly draining from your face.

“What? I-” You started with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about? There’s no such thing as witches…”

But Sirius knew what he saw, the first could have been an accident - a trick of the mind - but the second act of magic was all the confirmation he needed.

Silently, Remus summoned the vase of flowers towards him before charming them to dance to imaginary music, plucking one from its stem and turning it gold before reaching across the table to put it behind your ear as you gaped at him.

“You’re…a wizard?” You whispered in disbelief.

At that, Sirius stood and spun, turning into Padfoot and panting excitedly at your feet as his tail whacked against the table leg with every wag.

A wet laugh escaped you before either boy realised you were wiping your eyes.

“Oh my gods?”

“Awe, dovey.” Remus cooed as he moved over to Sirius’ chair so he could take your hands in his. “Don’t cry.”

“Is this what you guys were going to tell me?” You asked cautiously, hopefully.

Padfoot melted back into Sirius, but he stayed kneeling at your feet as he rubbed soothing stripes up and down your calf. “Yes, baby; this was it.” He assured you. “I’m sorry we scared you.”

“So, that boarding school you went to in France?” Remus asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Beauxbatons.” You confirmed with a nod of your head. “And your boarding school in Scotland?”

“Hogwarts.” The two boys chorused, and you all let out a chuckle.

“It’s almost embarrassing that didn’t give it away right there.” You laughed breathlessly.

“Since we’re, uh, being honest about stuff…” Remus continued, trailing off awkwardly as he shared a grimace with Sirius. “I’m also, well, I’m also a werewolf.”

“Oh.” You breathed quietly.

Sirius held his breath as he watched you consider this before you nodded your head decisively.

“I’m muggleborn.”

Sirius and Remus shared a quick look before Remus let out a disbelieving chuckle. “Is that- …what?”

“Baby, are you trading that information like we might think that’s a negative?” Sirius teased you lightly.

“I suppose it depends on who you ask…” You whispered, and both boys softened.

“Not us, dove.” Remus offered. “Good.” You smiled at him. “Then me too.”

“Is that really how you feel about it? About me?” Remus asked quietly.

“No, it’s not how I feel about you.” You denied. “J'ai l'impression de tomber très amoureux de toi.” You admitted shyly, and Sirius couldn’t be held responsible for the mortifying cooing sound that resonated from the back of his throat.

He grabbed your face roughly and started peppering you with kisses: “how”, a kiss, “did we”, a kiss, “manage to find”, another kiss, “the most brilliant and beautiful witch”, kiss kiss kiss, “in the whole world?”

You were giggling and trying - not very hard, mind you - to pull away from Sirius’ ministrations when you stilled and let out a gasp.

“What?” Both boys paused.

“Supper!” You nearly shrieked as you went flying into the kitchen, muttering to yourself in French as you turned off the stove top and fussed with various pots and dishes.

“I am so unbelievably in love with her.” Remus murmured, eyes glued to your form as you danced through the kitchen.

Sirius scoffed as he leaned against his boyfriend with his arms crossed, feigning nonchalance. “I can’t believe you were so scared to tell her.”

Sirius didn’t need to look at Remus to know he was glaring at him; he could feel it.

But he also felt his heart grow three sizes when you turned to look at both of them with a beaming smile and a steaming dish in front of you, completely unphased that one of your boyfriends was a werewolf even though as a witch you knew exactly what that meant. And not only were you unphased, but you were still falling in love with them regardless.

Sirius had admittedly been very scared to tempt fate, because meeting you had been a complete fluke and he didn’t want to muck it up by scaring you off. Because really, how many times in one life did someone get the chance to meet a perfect angel?

If meeting Remus had been destiny, meeting you was prophetic; and who was Sirius to mess with the prophecy?

(translation: I feel like I’m very much falling in love with you).

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iceunhie · 7 months

Text

indirect kiss moments !

summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....

featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham

notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)

WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working

wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.

why, you ask? it's all because of you.

he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.

all because of a damn indirect kiss.

his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.

it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—

….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.

if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.

[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.

you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]

KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)

kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.

it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.

…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.

small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.

perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?

oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.

[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.

the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]

#mhie's spirals #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin drabbles #wanderer x you #kazuha x you #genshin impact imagines #𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 ★ GENSHIN . . .

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triptuckers · 9 months

Text

the comfort of home - percy jackson

Request: yes! "Hii, I just finished watching both episodes of PJO and I wept as I beheld Sally's maternal love unfold on the screen, knowing it before hand from the books. Thus, I was pondering if you might entertain a request—a tale where a daughter of Hades (angsty) forges a close bond with Percy, and Sally, in her gracious warmth bless her soul, adopts her into their lives because, after all, they're nearly kin, entwined by the delicate threads of almost-cousinhood." Pairing: percy jackson x hades!reader Summary: after a typical day for a demigod, you just need a safe space to go Warnings: mentions of fighting, injuries, blood, throwing up, swearing, angst Word count: 2k A/N: first of all anon are you a writer?????? bro those words..... pls write more !! thanks for your request, enjoy!

you're walking down the streets of new york city, feeling utterly miserable. you're soaked through because of the rain and you're hurt.

everyone knows that demigods don't exactly live a quiet life. especially kids from zeus, poseidon or hades. still, most of the times you're fighting for your life you're on a quest.

not simply on your way home.

but today was different. somehow you brought not one but all three of the furies down on you. you don't even know how, you weren't doing anything.

it was a tough fight, but you stood strong. you couldn't prevent the dozen little cuts that littered your body. you're bruised over and on top of that it started to rain, messing with your sight.

right now you're on your way to your foster home. but it's a slow journey. you're not sure you want to go there. and you're not sure how much the mist hides for them.

sometimes if you got home all bruised you told them you got in a fight. sometimes they didn't spare you a second glance.

you stop in the middle of the street. at this point you've been walking for so long you don't even notice the rain anymore.

you turn around, heading another way. there's one other place you could go. you're lost in thought, and most of the people don't pay you any attention. perks of living in new york, you guess. new yorkers just don't care.

when you get to the familiar building, you feel a sense of calm coming over you. somehow you always found yourself back here. as you walk up to the entrance, someone leaves just as you arrive, so you can slip in the door before it closes.

you walk the stairs slowly because of your injuries. every step hurts and takes tremendous effort.

when you finally get to the right floor and walk to the door, you just stand in front of it. you're fully aware you're dripping rainwater on the floor, but suddenly you can't bring yourself to knock.

why are you even here? you don't want to be a burden.

they've told you that you can always come over, no matter what. but it's late at night, it's raining outside, you're soaked.

you're standing there, debating wether or not to go in, when you hear a voice on the other side of the door.

the person is softly singing along to a song that's playing.

tears well up in your eyes as you recognise the song. you were the one to recommend it.

you raise your hand and knock on the door.

'coming!' says the voice.

moments later the door opens to reveal a woman.

her eyes briefly widen at the sight of you, scanning your body for injuries. then her eyes soften.

'oh, what happened to you, sweetheart?' says sally.

her gentle voice is what pushes you over the edge, breaking down in tears in front of her.

sally pulls you over the doorstep and closes the door. she pulls you into a hug, not caring that you're soaked.

you wrap your arms around her and cry. you let all of the anxiety rush out of you as sally rubs circles on your back and whispers soft words in your ear. you ignore your aching body and allow yourself to just be here in the moment.

after a while, sally pulls back and holds you at an arms length.

'I'm so sorry for dropping in like this, miss jackson.' you say softly.

'y/n, you know you're always welcome here. and I've told you to call me sally.' she says kindly.

you nod. 'is percy home?'

'he's out to the movies with grover. do you want me to ask him to come home?'

'no, he's out having fun. it's alright. could I just..'

'why don't you take a shower first, hm? I bet you're freezing.'

you sigh softly. that does sound good.

'yeah, alright.'

'you go take a shower, then I'll make tea and see if I can do something about that.'

she pointedly looks at the cut above your brow. you totally forgot that was there.

'I don't have any clothes.' you say softly.

'that's alright, just borrow some from percy. he won't mind.' says sally.

'thank you.'

you walk towards percy's room to get some clothes when sally calls your name, making you turn around again.

'you're not a burden, you know that right. we love having you over.' says sally.

you swallow back the new tears that threaten to fall. sometimes you forget she knows you so well.

'thanks.' you say, entering percy's room to get some clothes.

you pick a shirt, sweater and sweatpants form percy's closet before going into the bathroom.

you peel your soaked clothes from your body, hissing when you pull the fabric from your wounds.

turning on the water, you get in the shower, letting the water calm you down. you wash off all of the dried blood, dirt and sweat.

after drying off you put on percy's clothes, his scent surrounding you and comforting you.

you head back to the living room to find sally putting two steaming mugs on the table.

'we still got your favorite.' she says, sliding your mug towards you.

'thanks.'

'drink up, and tell me about today if you want. I'll see if we have some medical stuff left in the kitchen.'

you sigh, thinking back to today.

'I didn't even do anything.' you say. 'I was just walking down the road and I got this feeling I was being watched. I thought it wasn't a big deal but hey, demigod instinct, so I took a turn and went into an alley. sure enough, someone followed me.'

'someone or something?' says sally, returning with the first aid kit.

'someone at first. then the mist cleared and it was one of the furies.' you say. 'at that point I was just so done. I wasn't even on a quest so what the hell was she doing there?'

'how did you get away? you've fought a fury before, percy told me.' says sally, scooting her chair closer to you so she can clean the cut on your forehead.

'I have. it's okay if it's one. but then the other two showed up.' you sigh. 'at that point I was really annoyed. I think it was just annoyance that drove me at that point. they were clearly there because they were bored. they thought "hey smells like demigod, oh look it's the hades kid, let's mess with her."

'well, you're here now. you made it out.' says sally, finishing with the cut on your forehead.

'yeah. thanks again.' you say, sipping your tea.

'you don't have to keep thanking me.' says sally. 'you know you're always welcome here, you're practically family. I know you don't like your foster home. now, do you have any other wounds?'

you chuckle. 'only about two dozen little cuts and even more bruises. I've had worse, it's okay.' you say.

'it's never okay.' says sally. 'you and percy are way too young for this.'

you shrug. 'and yet we have to deal with it.' you say, rolling up your sleeves so sally can clean and bandage the cuts on your arms.

the next hour is spent by sally cleaning your wounds and bandaging you up as she tells you stories. you liked hearing her stories. ever since you first met her, it was one of your favorite things about her. she could tell stories in a way that felt like you were actually there, experiencing them.

just as she secures the last bandage in place, you briefly close your eyes, exhaustion getting to you.

'you can get some sleep, I'll tell percy when he gets home.' says sally.

'it's okay, I want to see him before I go to bed.' you say.

'alright, want to watch a movie of something?'

'movie sounds great.'

sally picks a movie while you sit down on the couch. it doesn't take long for you to doze off, even though you fight to stay awake. the fight with the furies was intense, so sally lets you sleep while she waits for percy to home home.

about halfway through the movie, the door to the apartment opens and percy enters.

'hey mom.' he says, taking off his shoes and jacket and dumping his bag near the door.

as he walks into the room, he notices a familiar sword leaning against the back of the couch. he frowns, he didn't know you were coming.

'is y/n here?' he says, walking over to his mom.

she nods, pointing to the couch.

percy looks over the back of the couch to find you fast asleep, wearing his clothes and your body littered in bandages and bruises.

'what happened?' says percy, walking around the couch.

'the three furies.' says sally. 'she didn't feel like going to her foster home.'

percy kneels before the couch, studying your face. he reaches out and traces one of the bruises on your cheek.

you stir awake from the movement, your eyes meeting percy's.

'hi.' you say softly.

'hey. you alright?' he says.

you nod. 'how was the movie?'

percy chuckles. 'it was good. you would have loved it. heard you got in a fight?'

'yeah. those damned furies.' you say. 'luckily your mom patched me up though.'

'you know my bed is more comfortable than the couch, right?' says percy.

you slowly sit up. 'I know. I wanted to stay awake til you got home.'

'and you did a great job at that.' says percy with a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

you hit him on the shoulder. 'you would have fallen asleep as well!'

sally watches the exchange with a smile on her face. moments like these make her especially happy you met percy.

'come on.' says percy, standing up and holding out his hand for you to take.

you take it and allow percy to gently pull you to your feet.

'thanks again sally.' you say as percy beings leading you to his bedroom to sleep in an actual bed.

'no need to thank me y/n. it's always good to have you around, even if it's like this.'

you and percy both say goodnight to her before entering percy's room.

'so, did you sugarcoat the story for my mom?' he says as you sit down on this bed.

'not really, I just didn't tell her all of the details.' you say.

percy raises an eyebrow at you. 'details like?'

'like how one of them punched me in the gut and I nearly threw up because of it.' you say.

'ew.' says percy, face scrunching up in disgust.

'you would have thrown up as well.' you say.

'but you managed to fend off all three furies on your own?' he says.

you nod, laying down. 'I think I bruised a rib, though. the rest is all small cuts and bruises. no broken bones this time. they looked like they were really fucking annoyed they could be bested by just one kid.' you say.

percy smiles, walking over to kiss your cheek, careful not to touch the wounds on your face. 'that's my girl.' he says.

'you got anything to do tomorrow?' you say, stifling a yawn.

'nope. we can spend the day here.' he says, walking over to the bed an laying down next to you.

'good.' you say. 'I just need to wash my clothes and clean my sword, and I should probably-' 'y/n.'

you look at percy.

'let's just relax tomorrow, okay? come on, you need sleep.'

you nod, moving closer to him.

as you're laying next to percy, feeling sleep get to you once more, you can't help but to feel a deep sense of gratitude.

sally didn't question why you showed up at her doorstep, but pulled you in her arms and sat with you to bandage your wounds and listen to your story.

percy listened to you as well and provided you familiar comfort you needed, telling you to relax.

you just know if something ever goes wrong, you're always welcome at the jackson household.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

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