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sommerregenjuniluft · 13 days

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@jegulus-microfic june 5th — more — 1108words — cw: reg has some pretty explicit dirty fantasies for a moment or two for @honeybcj and all the other james dad bod enjoyers out there<3

Regulus is sitting in his lifeguard chair, eyes trained on the long pool where people are swimming their laps. Nevermind he isn’t even on shift. Over the last few weeks Regulus has signed himself up for more shifts than ever, much to the surprise of their staff manager. Pandora too. They’ve stocked up on sunscreen and went shopping for new cute swimwear and then devoted their last college summer to spending every minute in the presence of piss covered ground, soggy fries and chlorine smelling air.

All for the sole purpose of making eyes at a beautiful couple and their toddler half the day. Or, not-couple, as Pandora has found out in passing, much to both their delight. The parents of little Harry are divorced, or not together anymore, but they still seem to get along well enough, regularly meeting up to come here and spend their days in the water. Lily, a gorgeous redhead with bright eyes and a sweet smile that occasionally makes Pandora squirm in her place and redden in the cheeks more fiercely than any sunburn.

And then there’s James. Tall, dark haired, in his mid to end twenties, always grinning, tanned, insanely sexy and funny James.

The sun is already low now and Lily and Harry have already gone home. On the days James doesn’t take the toddler home with him, he often stays a little longer to get some swimming in. Or just to take a nap on one of the chairs, molten popsicle dripping down and into the hairs on his stomach. His belly rising and falling in regular intervals, full lips parted, dark mob of hair a downright mess and the legs of his bathing shorts hiked so far up it should be forbidden.

The white fabric of it is drenched when James heaves himself out of the pool and shakes out his sopping hair.

Regulus’ eyes follow greedily as the older man picks up his towel and dries himself off. James rummages for his water bottle and then tips his head back and gulps. His throat is bobbing and he’s so overly enthusiastic with it that something dribbles out at the sides and along his neck. Regulus feels himself stir in his own swim shorts and he absently gnaws on his lower lip.

He has already perfectly well resigned himself to the fact that he will be an admirer from afar because how do you even walk up to a young dad and tell him you’d very much like to find out just how much of a daddy he is without overstepping multiple boundaries.

That is before Regulus gets pulled from his perverse thoughts of getting fucked deep into the mattress and stubble burn on his jaw and licking over a nipple circled by chest hair when suddenly said object of his fantasies is walking up to him, eyes squinting against the sun.

He comes to a stop in front of Regulus’ high stool and wraps his hand around the ladder railing next to Regulus’ leg, his shoulder muscle bunching deliciously.

Regulus’ brain is currently projecting an Error404.

“Hi, sorry for disturbing you,” James says with a warm smile. To Regulus. The hot dad is talking to Regulus. “You can totally say No I was just thinking I should reapply,” he waves the bottle of sunscreen in his big hand, “and I need someone to get my back.”

Regulus just gawks, unable to form a coherent thought. There’s a dark mole right over James’ thick left eyebrow and Regulus wants to kiss it. His nose is a little crooked and his stubble looks so obscene from up close Regulus can’t help but imagine what it would feel like against the inside of his thigh, the crease of his ass.

James’ eyebrows raise and he frowns mildly, “You don’t have to, of course. I can ask someone else, it’s no iss—”

“No,” Regulus blurts, probably too quickly. He licks his lips. “I’ll do it,” he offers, his voice cracking embarrassingly, before clambering down his chair. Heat crawls up into Regulus’ cheeks and down his collarbones and he clears his throat.

A gust of realization flits over James’ face and then he grins, shamelessly. Regulus swallows. “Oh, so you’re the cute College kid Lily told me was ogling me.”

Regulus makes a panicked noise in the back of his throat, sputtering slightly.

“You really are pretty,” James murmurs, ducking closer. “I wear glasses usually, ’m sorta blind without them, really. It’s lovely getting to see you up close finally.”

“Oh,” Regulus nods, dumbly.

“What’s your name, love?”

“Regulus.”

James hums, repeating his name, slowly letting it roll over his tongue and Regulus shivers.

“I’m James by the way.”

Regulus nods again but he knew that already.

“So,” James cocks his head, “I was promised a slathering of sunscreen?”

And Regulus does just that. He lets James squirt the cool, milky white fluid on his hands and then begins rubbing it into tan skin. James is warm and sturdy under his fingers and when Regulus gets to his neck, adorned by a thin, golden chain, James lets his head loll to the side with a groan. Regulus has to work hard not to let his cock react to it.

When James turns around he has his lower lip trapped between his teeth and is watching Regulus with lidded eyes. There’s still some residue on Regulus’ palms and when James sees that, he takes his wrists slowly and brings his hands down over his bicep as well.

Regulus is pretty sure he just sighed a little too loudly but he’s too transfixed to care.

James hums once Regulus is done. “Thank you,” he says, tucking one of Regulus’ curls back. “I’ll let you get back to your shift then,” James mumbles, voice low and playful, “Wouldn’t want to distract you from saving lifes.”

“I’m not on shift,” Regulus replies, stupidly, basically exposing himself. He needs to get a grip.

A happy smile spreads over James’ face, “Well, then why don’t you come join me so I can keep looking at you without my glasses from up close?”

Regulus hesitates for a moment, dumbfounded by the amount of active flirting and compliments.

“I’ll share my fruit and you can tell me all about your courses and that blonde friend of yours that seems to have a thing for Harry’s mum,” James winks.

A small laugh tumbles out of Regulus, “Yeah, she’s ridiculously down bad for Lily.”

“Oh, people who live in glass houses, love…” James smirks, starting for his spot next to the pool.

Regulus blushes a deep pink as he follows behind him.

#jegulus microfic #dad james potter #what if i wrote the smut in a second part.......#and then the pandalily smut in a third......*eyes emoji*#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sunseeker #starchaser #jegulus fic #lune’s tiny fic

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hoshiina · 24 days

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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: two secret admirers except he is actually insanely down bad for you its crazy

warnings: mentions the readers face 'flushing', it's kind of from hoshinas pov it's mostly his thoughts and voices, I cannot tell if hoshinas ooc but he's rather quiet with a whole ton of thoughts so idk if that's not it for you pls beware

Unlike one would expect, he was rather one to just sit back and admire. This is not to say he'd let a random guy just snatch you away, but he often couldn't do much more than just admire. It even surprised himself whenever he caught himself watching from afar again, but it really did make sense. He was one of hard work that no one would see, for as long as he could remember. Attention was not something he was used to, nor was it something he craved intensely. So what you had going on was fine for him, he was the happiest he's been just working with you every day.

However, sometimes at night, he'd wonder what it would be like if the one he loved, loved him back. What if he could make you smile and get you flustered? He wanted to know, but he convinced himself he didn't need to, nor could he.

Yet, one day those humble thoughts did a complete 180. He couldn't help it anymore, you had to be his.

It was no special day, at least not until you came along at least. It wasn't that big of a deal— it really wasn't, but the way your face flushed when his hand accidentally grazed your cheek would never be forgotten.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he had said, immediately. He spun you around and touched the place he grazed, asking if you were okay.

"I'm, I'm perfectly fine, thank you," you said avoiding eye contact. You didn't mean to be rude but you knew your face was bright red and you couldn't dare see his expression.

But you should've. You absolutely should've. His heart clenched at the sight and his eyes widened, he was undeniably in love with you, anyone could tell. He didn’t know if he had any effect on you, or if you were just not used to people touching your cheek, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. He would be damned to let anyone see that look on your face, let alone cause it, so there was no choice but to make you his. He wanted you so badly, but he just didn't know how.

Now all through the day, he found himself thinking about you— he didn't think it could possibly get worse. He noticed everything you did more than ever. He noticed how your horrible sleep schedule was finally a little better, he noticed how you noticed everyone's new achievements and always remembered to compliment them, he noticed how you'd still sneak out in the middle of the night to train when you just couldn't fall asleep. He knew all these things, and yet he didn't know what to do.

A few weeks had passed and he was training late into the night again, but his thoughts were filled with you. It was getting late and he was finally going to call it a night, and that was when he finally noticed you by the door. When your eyes first met, he truly thought he was hallucinating— thought that the fatigue and the constant thought of you had made him go insane. Until you spoke, that was.

“I apologize,” you said in a hurry, your eyes shooting around until they slowly met his again. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

‘Didn’t mean to stare’? ‘Stare’? How long had you been there for? You were waiting for him to say something, but that was not even on his mind at the moment. As smart as he was, there were constantly thoughts flooding his head and all he had were questions. Why were you here? Why did you stay? Why were you still up? Were you having a hard time sleeping? Did he wake you up? Was he making a lot of noise? No, your room should be far enough away from the training room. Then why were you all the way here? Did you want to train too? Was he in the way? Were you—

“I’ll um, leave you to your training,” you said quickly, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “Sorry to bother you.”

You were turning away to leave when he reached out for your wrist. His mind was still blank but naturally the question he wanted answers to the most slipped right out of his mouth.

“Why…” he asked softly, eyes wide with surprise. “Why… were you here?”

You were just as surprised and you also didn’t know how to respond. “I couldn’t sleep, unfortunately,” you said slowly. It wasn’t a lie, you really were struggling to sleep— however you did turn the corner in the hall to see if the lights in the training room were on, and you did hope he was the one still up late. Yet, to your surprise his expression relaxed and he almost looked disappointed as he carefully released the grip on your wrist.

“But you need to get some rest as well,” you said, wanting to say something, anything, to keep you in this moment.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said. He was getting no rest tonight, he knew he was going to be up late just thinking about you or thinking about how he’s mildly heartbroken. He was tired of being stuck in his thoughts though and, maybe from the fatigue, it slipped out of him. “I wish you were here to see me.”

He only realized what he had said after he heard himself say it. Immediately the thoughts were back. Oh but it was quiet… perhaps you hadn’t heard it? Not a chance. What does he say next? Does he play it off? That would be such a scummy move. Oh, why would he do that? He had gotten so far keeping his feelings to no one other than himself, keeping quiet, admiring from afar, why now?

“I was!” you said, immediately. “I was here to see you!”

What did you say?

“I was hoping you were the one still training. I was hoping I’d see you tonight,” you said clearly.

He was about to embrace you when he caught himself right before he threw his arms around you. His hands were placed on your shoulders and his face was so close to yours. “Sorry, I’m literally drenched in sweat,” he said. “That would’ve been disgusting.”

“I don’t mind, I can always shower again,” you said, more eager for the hug than anything else.

“No, you need to sleep, it’s late,” he said, but he had to admit that pulled at his heart.

“Okay, then this will have to suffice,” you said and kissed him quickly.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Not to be dramatic, but this was the moment he had been dreaming of for so long now.

His head was hanging, avoiding any eye contact— he didn’t want you to see his face flushed.

“I am so insanely in love with you.”

#hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #hoshina soushirou #kaiju no.8 x reader #HERE WE GOOOOOO #WE ARE SO BACK #see this hoshina is not the same hoshina in my silly text thing this hoshina does not say dick #and i cannot decide which one i love more #so for now i do both #thats a lie i know i love this one more deep down but the other one is so funny like i can hear it coming from him and itd be funny #ANYWAYS NOT THE POINT !#thank u sm for reading omg this was so fun to write #man i love when men are down bad #esp successful men #and this was about writing a successful man down bad i couldnt have more fun #hope to write for him more HOPE TO ALSO WRITE FOR RENO #really hope he gains popularity with the anime truly such a wonderful character #I HOPE U ENJOYED !!!#ALSO I APOLOGIZE NOT PROOFREAD i will proofread as i go...

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ma1dita · 4 months

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somebody's angel

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) descriptions of gore/injury The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. The aftermath of helping Luke heal from Hesperides. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: lyrics from ‘die alone’ by finneas <3 this was originally titled angel face, devilish smile in the masterpost but much has changed since then! lil reminder Mr. D’s kids have violet eyes and god this has heavy foreshadowing; as usual, scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(posted 2/25/24, edited!)

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[ i wasn't lookin' for you || but you found me, you found me || just as the smoke filled the room in the valley ]

Isn’t it funny that when your dreams finally come true it's never in the way you want?

You’ve decided that if you ever make it out of here alive you’re never stepping another foot in San Francisco. There are so many other places to vacation, ones closer to home and without hundred-headed dragons. Granted, the city is beautiful with its winding roads, bustling crowds and oh, Annabeth would love the architecture—but you weren’t really able to admire much as you ran down the marble stepping stones leading to Luke’s body splayed across the grass.

Holy shit, he better not be dead.

He’s always had a habit of running off without telling you, and well, this was the farthest thing from a vacation. Luke was so sure he’d make his father proud by getting sent off on a solo quest by Hermes—his ultimate test for glory. Everyone revered him and applauded his charisma and confidence in getting these damn golden apples, but staring at them now from afar didn’t convince you of the appeal. Putrid smoke fills your lungs as you cough, the sensation like acid rain grappling your senses as you watch Luke slash his sword toward Ladon one final time before toppling over like a shot bird. You’re crawling to reach him, using your jacket to wipe at your watering eyes and the monster’s shadow envelops both of your hunched forms as you shake him awake. It can’t end like this for him, you won’t let it happen.

This is not a hero’s death, but an idiot’s.

“Luke!” you scream, “if you’re dead, I’ll fucking kill you!”

There’s so much blood covering him that you wonder if he has any left in his body. It pools around his slashed back, making the grass around him dark with his life force. For a moment, you worry you’re too late. Ladon roars above you, piercing your eardrums as you stifle a whimper and bury your face in his chest—but if you stay here with him and accept your fate, the both of you will be dead in minutes. You’ve never been one to give up, and neither has he.

As his vision darkens, he realizes you’re holding onto him for dear life, Luke's sword in your dominant hand and his dead weight against the other. It’s almost as if you need him more than he needs you, and the thought is comforting in comparison to the molten hot pain running through his body. The wafting aroma of the golden apples continues to permeate the air, reflecting his deepest desires. Desperation lured him to the dragon and its protected fruit, and for it, he almost met his death. Luke was so close to glory that he could smell it–he imagined it smelling like burnt cookies and the clothes of an ancient traveler. Salvation was supposed to be crisp and light in his mouth, but now it feels like biting into shards of glass. Through the garden’s miasma, his legs wobble in your embrace as you try to inch away from certain doom.

“Trouble? You’re not supposed to be here,” he croaks, “can’t see me like this…Gotta..”

Luke’s words come out in a wheeze as the bloodied hand he lays on your shoulder sticks to your shirt.

“I’m here, I’m here…”

Fire licks at your heels, your blood almost boiling in your veins as you try to pull him to look at you, but still he’s determined, almost knocking you off balance as his arms reach towards the tree in visions of glimmering gold and glory. Through his one good eye, he can see you lunge at the dragon, swinging the bronze like it’s an extension of yourself, and then you scream, dropping the weapon as the sizzle of singed flesh echoes through the air.

You’re hurt, and it’s because of him.

Steadily losing control over his body, he decides to make one last move as life seeps out of him in steps: first his hearing–he watches you say something he can’t make out; what’s left of his blood spills out of his mouth until he chokes it out in a gurgle.

“Luke, we have to leave! We’re going to die here!”

Luke sways closer to the dragon even as you try your hardest to pull him away from the tree but by the gods, he’s stubborn, wrath emanating from his injured body like an unwelcome friend. If this is his last action on Earth, it will be to protect you. Once he finds it again, he’s convinced his fingertips are soldered onto the hilt of his sword---losing the sensation of his burnt fingertips as he slashes at the one thing between him and his father’s love. Ladon recoils, sharp claws scrambling back to the tree as your hands meld into his wounded form like clay. Luke easily misses the bloodied claw that remains at your feet.

Please, he prays to anyone who will listen, I’m right fucking here! Don’t let me fail, PLEASE. Luke’s brain is still muddled with the magic, but for some reason, his mind has never been clearer. The scent of the air shifts into that of raspberries and soft linen as his body staggers back into the grass. His vision darkens in a vignette, encircling him as he looks away from the golden fruit and into your violet irises, and then, nothing.

[ you asked me, "do you wanna die alone, or watch it all burn down together?” || I said I'd rather try to hold on to you forever ]

Luke wakes up before you, though by the looks of his bandaged body and the pounding in his head, he must have been out for a while. You’re asleep on the floor of the sleeper train facing away from him using your backpack as a pillow and your legs curled underneath you like a purring cat. The purple zippo lighter your dad gave you is nestled against your foot and he uses it to ward off the cabin you’re in, in hopes of continuing whatever illusion you put on to get his mangled body onto public transportation without any questions. The perks of being children of mischief. He flicks the lighter on and off, blood seeping through his bandaged fingers. If this is what he looks like after your stock of ambrosia… he can’t help but be scared to see what’s underneath.

His eyes blink to adjust to the darkness of the carriage, pupils unfocused from an obvious concussion. The water canister falls over with a loud clang, jolting you awake.

“Fuck…” you mumble, turning over to look at him drenched in melancholy and moonlight, “Are you okay? I think I have a bit more ambrosia, let me—”

He grabs your hands tightly, so much that it hurts him.

“You shouldn’t have been there.”

Shaking your head, you sigh. This was never going to be easy, what comes after. He’d been knocked out for two days, screaming in his sleep. He’ll never know what you’ve been through together to get on this train, and you’re not sure of what he remembers.

“But I was. And we’re alive.”

Tossing his hands aside, you rummage through your pack for the little ambrosia you have left, giving him a piece and almost forcing it into his mouth. If he doesn’t want you to be gentle, he can take you tough. There’s no way out of this where you let him hurt himself more, after that.

“You used my sword. I’ve never seen you use a sword before,” he scoffs, swaying in his seat. Luke’s confused above all his other emotions right now, trying to rub at his eyes until you pull his hand away. There’s a bandage that spans across the right side of his face.

That’s why it’s so dark.

“I usually don’t, but we were up against a dragon, dumbass. We’re lucky we’re not dead. I’m grateful that you’re not dead,” you say in a strained voice, holding both of his hands. He wonders why you sound like you’re hurting too, until his good eye falls upon your open rucksack.

“Are the apples in there? We gotta meet my dad,” Luke slurs, and you bite your lip in frustration, “he’s gonna be proud of me. I know it.”

“There’s no apples, Luke. We’re going home.”

He cringes, his back hitting the wall as he looks at you like you’ve told him you've eaten them or something.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he sneers, his voice getting louder now as he says your name. Luke pushes your hands away, kicking his feet up to his chest, and you know the actions have reopened some of his wounds. He’s burning up again, from both the fever and your touch, and you take a deep breath to hold back a sob. Your emotions will only amplify his, you remind yourself.

“Luke, you failed your quest. There was no way you would have succeeded.”

Your words hit him like bullets, and he shakes his head, clawing his way through his bandages like he wants to escape from his own skin. To escape from the fate of being the pride and joy of Hermes. You wrap yourself around him through his pain and yours as he thrashes, though these wounds transcend the physical, and the scars will forever run deep.

“I fucking hate you!” he sobs, “you weren't supposed to be there! You were only going to get hurt.”

Tears mix with blood as you hold him, hands clenched in the shirt on his back at his misplaced anger.

“So fucking stupid!”

His body shakes with rage as he pounds at whatever he can touch, and you take the blows until finally, you yell exasperatedly, “It was a suicide mission, Luke! Get it through your fucking head!”

You push him away to grab his face and make him look at you. He realizes your hand is bandaged when it touches the smooth side of his face. It’s about as wide as a hilt and covers your palm.

“ Your dad sent you there to die. I wasn’t gonna let that happen,” you grit, and he won’t stop crying until he mutters something under his breath.

“I’m so stupid. Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

A fat tear rolls down your cheek mimicking the ripped skin on his newly exposed face. You haven’t had much practice with emotions this strong and only the gods know how desperate you feel right now as you pull out more bandages from the bag and will away his hysteria as best as you can. Until finally, his eyes flutter closed and you help him lay on his side.

You never pray, especially to your dad and especially not fucking Hermes, but you’re already in enough trouble for leaving without telling anyone—so perhaps they’re listening extra carefully. Perhaps D will answer your Iris message too and get you out of this mess. Perhaps Hermes, the god of travelers will at least get you both home safely. It's the least he can do after everything you and Luke have been through. Pulling out a drachma from your coin purse, you realize two things: your fingers are glued together with Luke’s blood, and he hasn’t let go of your other hand.

“The only person I’d get bloody for is you, Castellan,” you sigh, gently leaning against the bed he made and now lies in.

Only your dad answered.

[ this was the place i grew up, now it's ashes to ashes || memories fillin' my cup, it comes in flashes || but when it passes and i see your eyes || i know there's nothin' i'll ever find better ]

You’ve been roommates in the basement of the Big House for about a week and a half now, and cabin fever was making the both of you a bit stir-crazy. At first, he wouldn’t talk to you, simmering in his personal pool of misery, until he ripped his stitches open one night and you had to tend to them since your father was dead asleep. The slashes on his back looked like slots for angel wings. Chiron and Mr. D tended to the both of you since Luke insisted on not having anyone else see what’s become of him. You’re certain everyone thinks you’re dead. Peeking through the window, you wish you could see the blaze left behind in your absence. With Luke on his quest, you were down a counselor in charge of the busiest cabin; with you missing—well you’re surprised everything hasn’t gone up in flames. You ask your dad to bring Annabeth to come see you, and when Luke argues, you clarify that she’s your guest.

He’s still not talking to you, even as Annabeth speaks loudly through the privacy curtain that Chiron set up so you both don’t fight. Your bickering kept your dad up one too many times and he was about to send the both of you into induced comas.

“It’s like the two of you came back and something’s different,” Annie says inquisitively, eyes flickering to the dusty curtain between your beds. She’s made herself comfortable at your feet and stolen your pillow to rest over her lap.

“This doesn’t feel any different. Your brother’s still an asshole, we’re just trauma bonded now,” you say with a lazy grin, and you think you hear him curse you to Tartarus under his breath. You shrug when she rolls her eyes, dark braided hair splaying over her shoulders.

“You came back friends, then,” she hypothesizes, and Annabeth is always right, but you hesitate now, rubbing the thick skin on your palm.

“Are you saying we weren’t? What a surprise…” you mumble, before you nudge her to try again.

“You saved his life,” Annabeth whispers, leaning in closer like that was a secret to keep, and even if Luke can’t hear it, you shake your head.

“Honestly, he saved mine.”

The silence hangs between you two, the both of your eyes falling upon the dragon claw sitting on the side table partially covered by the curtain.

“I’m glad you two are back,” she says softly, reaching for your hand and tracing your scarred palm.

“We’re glad to be back, even if it doesn’t seem like it,” you giggle, pulling her into a hug before you joke, “Can’t believe I left a 10-year-old in charge. Bet the other counselors hated that.”

The curtain rips open, grating against the pole, and with one look from Luke, Annabeth gets up to give you two privacy.

“We? Since when were you two a we?” she mutters, and with the little strength he has, he softly ruffles her head and shoves her to the doorway. After she leaves, he looks at you tentatively, bandaged hands fidgeting with his blanket until you take the hint and make your way over to his bed. Slotting yourself underneath his arm, you settle against him with a sigh and the weight of you against his ribs is comforting despite the ache. Most of your wounds are healed on the surface level now, and soon it’ll be time to get back to your normal routines. That’s the difficult part about all of this, Luke thinks—hoping everyone just brushes his blunder under the rug and wishing that everything stays the same.

But Annabeth is always right, and there are a lot of things that have changed since he left for San Francisco. He can feel it even if his fingerprints won’t ever completely heal, he can see it even through his scarred eye, and he just knows by the way you press a soft kiss to his healing cheek, breathing hot air that gives him goosebumps. This is his reality, a blessing to have after his brush with death even if it wasn’t exactly what he expected. Though it wasn’t your intention, there’s glory in the quirk of your smile as you murmur, “Honestly? Between me and you, I hate this place.”

[ i think i'd rather die alone, together || ‘cause i know that i will love you, and i'm not letting go ]

Luke thought it was bad enough for everyone to coddle him after you both emerged from the darkness of the basement, but to be honest—it’s worse that everyone’s being fake about it. At least with pity, they aren’t trying to hide away what they truly feel. He’s been hiding away in the armory for several days now, trying to tinker away at random things though it’s not his expertise, and the Hephaestus kids are too polite to push him out. Anything to make his weapon swifter and precise—but deep down he knows there’s nothing wrong with the damn sword. It doesn’t feel the same in his hands anymore, badly scarred and out of practice. He actually struggled sparring with Chris, though his brother was kind enough to act like it was a draw.

A groan escapes him as he almost hammers his thumb. Flexing his fingers, he looks at Ladon’s scale in the light of the little fires surrounding him. Its copper gleam was forever forged into a pendant that shouldn’t have taken him that long to fashion. Previously good at everything, Luke was suddenly down to limited talents.

For fuck’s sake.

“Luke? Hey, I've been trying to find you everywhere!”

Your head pops in through the doorway, holding a box of miscellaneous things as you skirt around the armory, trying to not bump into other campers’ work.

“Hey…”

You nod your head and place the box in his lap, the necklace still clenched in his grasp as he stands up to help you carry it wherever you want to go. You’ve been asking him for help with a lot of things lately, and though it’s mostly menial tasks he knows you can be done with in a snap, he often uses you as a chance to escape from prying eyes and hushed whispers. With you, there are no false pretenses or bluffs to save his ego.

It’s just you.

He helps you carry the box across the camp and to the attic of the Big House, the wooden stairs creaking under your heavy footsteps as you pick things out of the box and organize them to be placed around the room. Hundreds of memorabilia and war spoils decorate the walls as you hum a tune under your breath. This time it’s a song from Wicked, you tell him and he gets so lost in your story about two witches being changed for good that he almost misses you placing Ladon’s claw out for display. His hand reaches out for yours and you both stand there in the dust of completed quests and found glory.

“That doesn’t belong here,” he sighs, and you let him run his rough fingers over the obsidian.

“It’s a feat of strength. Whether you recognize it or not, you should be proud of it. Even Heracles couldn’t—”

He interrupts you, “Why? Why did you follow me there?”

You lick your lips and his eyes trace the movement because he’s scared to look up and see the truth. You’d never lie to him. The both of you are too good at lying to even try it with each other.

“Tell me why. Did you think I couldn't do it?”

You tilt his chin up with your dominant hand, and for the first time in a while, your eyes truly meet. You speak slowly as if begging him to understand the words that come from your mouth. He needs to understand that this was not his fault. Fate dealt him with bad cards, and he did his best.

“What I thought was that it was unfair…what your dad was asking of you. You and I both know that it was,” you explain, “ I was worried about you. You might not agree with me but that’s how I felt.”

Luke tries to argue, you can feel it in the way he quirks his brow and your finger covers his lips to hush him.

“Nuh-uh. You can’t take that away from me so shut it. I’m already grounded and shoveling horse shit for the next few months, angelface.”

Still, you’re smiling, and he wonders why.

“What did you just call me?"

“Come on, you know you’re still pretty, right? Everyone at camp thinks the whole rugged hero thing is kind of hot,” you giggle, poking his stomach. He rolls his eyes, shoving you away from him until your hip hits the corner of the table.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Ouch, that hurt, asshole!”

Holding your hip with your hand, you lurch towards him, dominant hand pressing against his torso— and you can feel his laughter rumble from underneath your fingers like static shocks. You’ve missed the sound like you’ve missed breathing easily.

“I thought it was angelf— what’s this?”

Luke finally notices the thick raised skin on your palm in the shape of the hilt of his sword. It’s seared onto you forever.

“You’re thinking too hard again. I’m okay,” you mumble, closing your hand around his, “we’re okay. These scars are just souvenirs. They’re a part of us now, but they don’t define us.”

His hands drop to his pocket with a sigh as he looks to the floor.

“Hey. Bold question, but do you think I’m ugly because of it?”

Luke’s head whips up and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief—that’s the stupidest thing you’ve said all day, and he usually likes to keep count to piss you off.

“Trouble, of course no—”

“Then you better believe me when I say you’re pretty. Not perfect, thankfully, your ego needed to get knocked down a peg but you still have the face of an ang—”

He shoves the necklace he tinkered into your scarred hand and your eyes glitter with admiration.

“Not perfect, but pretty,” he swallows, as the both of you look at the dented copper scale, shining in the sunlight. Your hand reaches out to cup his scarred cheek, smiling in silent thanks because there’s nothing either of you can say sufficient and fitting for the worth you see in each other--- even if the gods beg to differ. Luke turns his head gently, pressing his lips against your rough palm and the warmth it brings simmers down to where your spirit meets your bones.

[ if the sky darkens above you, i'll stay by your side in the afterglow || i wasn't lookin' for you, but you found me ]

“I thought we were out here for sword training,” he mumbles, following you closely through the dirt path. It was after dinner and you dragged him by the hand towards the camp boundaries. You’re both skipping out on the bonfire and sing-a-long, but well… they can all fend for themselves for a few hours.

“Like I'd dare teach an old dog new tricks. Ladon or not you’re still the best of us. No one would dare wield a sword against you, oh mighty Luke Castellan!” you say mockingly.

Being out here alone and so close to curfew is a risk you’re willing to take, and you know your dad’s running out of so-called punishments so literally who cares? So you stole the car too. You both stand in front of it now as you unlock it and toss him the keys. Luke fumbles and almost drops them as he looks at you bemusedly.

“Shouldn’t we be back before sundown?”

He settles into the driver’s seat easily, testing the different functions as you watch his eyes move quickly with wonder. The car rolls forward a few inches before nestling against a grassy patch and it makes you raise an eyebrow.

“You scared? If a hellhound comes to get us, maybe you’ll be brave enough to hit the gas. You drive like my grandpa and he’s long dead.”

He scoffs, tapping the gas pedal almost reluctantly before you reach out and fix his rearview mirror. Apollo’s job is almost over for the day, light fading into pinks and purples and though he’s meant to figure out how to get the car onto the road smoothly, Luke can’t help but be transfixed by the image of you framed in the soft light. You are almost one with the sky, sun-kissed and as real as a dream come true. He wonders why people always wish for things they can’t have when everything they need is often right in front of them. Maybe things have changed indeed.

“You can’t say stuff like that.”

He flicks the radio on to something he thinks you like, and he grins when in between your laughter you start vocalizing with the strum of the guitar.

“Why not?” you ask, with a gleam of mischief in your eye. It catches him off guard at how natural you seem when you’re breaking rules. He finds himself wishing you did it more often, then realizes you’ve broken a lot of rules for him lately. Mental reminder to apologize to Mr. D eventually.

“It’s bad luck,” he says stupidly, and it makes you laugh. You’re both bobbing your head to the sound of Radiohead playing softly on the speakers.

“Okay son of Hermes, bestowed with the greatest luck in the world, how’s that going for you?”

You speak before you think, as you often do—and for a split second, you’re afraid you’ve overstepped an unspoken boundary. Luke’s face is frozen as he thinks, but he ends up just rolling his eyes. With a deep breath, you continue.

“Besides, I’m sure with the shit we pull up here, Hades is keeping our spots warm for when we decide we need it. I’ll just pray harder I guess.”

There you go saying we again.

“You never fucking pray,” he laughs, pushing your face back towards the window and you swat at his arms playfully. You think he’d make fun of you forever if you told him about how you cried to both your dads that night in the sleeper train. A tight smile crosses your face as you tease, “That’s why I let you do it for me, kiss ass. Now drive.”

He hesitates, bandaged hands flexing over what to do next before you grab his hand over the console and gently rest it on the gear shift.

“We’ll get there, angelface,” you smile softly. The light from the waning sunset makes your eyes sparkle in the dim light of your dad’s old car. Luke tightens his hand over the lever and shifts the gear to drive, steadily moving forward.

“We’ll get there,” he repeats, nodding his head like he’s trying to convince himself.

Healing isn’t a process that feels like flying down the I-95 with the wind in your hair and no speed limit to abide by. Your hand drops toward the leather console but he grabs it again with the intention of not letting go, because quite frankly, he can’t do this without you. And you’ll ride with him through Farm Road and any other thing that comes your way, even if he hits another pothole or his eyes stray from the road—because you said you’d do it together.

With everything in him, he believes you.

—

Let me look at your face and see a heaven worth having. -Ruth Awad

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#trouble!verse #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan angst #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#🪽#thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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faeries-child · 3 months

Text

Falling too deep

Azriel x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, (bondage, oral, everything else...) minors get out of here.

Summary: You had finally approached the famous shadowsinger, not knowing he had already been dreaming of you for months.

(keep in mind that I have not not yet double checked the text for errors and mistakes)

Love was certainly not the only reason you had seeked out the shadowsinger.

You had heard things about him, admired him.

And right now he was proving all the rumors true. Seeing as your hands were currently tied to his bed. Blindfold on your eyes to preventing you from seeing anything. And to top all that of you were wholly naked before him, laying in his bed, in what presumably was his private house that was located close to the sidra running through Velaris.

You thought that this may have been the best decision you had ever made. For when you had seen the shadowsinger, standing in his black straight pants and that ridiculously tight dark blue button up, all those rings on his scarred hands shimmering in the light of the crowded bar filled with music, dancing and alcohol. You had decided then and there that tonight was the night that you would approach him. For countless times you had seen him there, those dark eyes so deep and hypnotizing. And you wanted nothing more than to be completely at his mercy.

"Where is your mind wandering, darling?"

He was currently hovering over you, so close but not touching. Only his left hand was slightly sliding up and down your sides. causing shivers to run through your.

"The only thing you need to do, is to focus on me."

Next you felt something you knew weren't his hands, but shadows running on your legs, up, up, and up. Until they stilled just above the place that all the aching came from. The place that you were so desperately hoping he would touch.

"You remember the rules darling?"

You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. He took hold of your chin, raising it so you could feel his breath on your mouth. "Remind me then."

“The safe word is tulip”, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Then” he said expectedly. Even though you couldn’t see him you could feel him staring at you.

“My only duty is to enjoy and take everything you give me”. He smiled at that “Good girl, and remember that after this, no one else will be able to satisfy you. You will alway be thinking of me when someone else even tries to touch you. but don’t worry” he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand “I’ll be gentle.”

However you could hear the tone in his voice that carried devilish intentions. You were sure that he was currently smirking at you. And in the moment it seemed a good idea to tease him.

Wanting him so bad that it was clouding your judgment. To rile him up and to take you already, you said: “I don’t want you to be gentle. I want you to do your worst so no other being in this world can erase this.”

You felt more of his shadows on you. They were now touching you everywhere and you couldn’t get enough of the feeling, the need for him to be in you, to feel everything of him.

In Azriel’s mind this was only a dream. Thing he had dreamed of so many times. To have you under him, wholly on his mercy. He had watched you from afar, seen you dancing, smiling and laughing. You had become his personal drug during the last couple of months. You were the reason that Azriel had joined Cassian and Mor every time he could. Something about you made him weak in the knees, made him want to protect you and hide you from the world.

Tonight might have been the last night of his life, for the cauldron had blessed him with you. You had approached him, in your too short deliciously revealing dress. You had danced around him, his hands on your hips and asked him to spend the night with you, to leave that place with you.

He had felt like winnowing you right to his bed. But he had been a gentleman, walked you to his house, offered you a drink, told you what he would give you, what he could do to you. Asked you what you wanted, and then he had finally thrown you to his bed and tied you to it.

“My good girl” he complimented you. You could hear the rustle of his clothes, and then you felt the mattress shift close to you. Azriel had risen from the bed. Feeling sudden panic from being left alone, blindfolded on the bed you called out to him: “Azriel?”

“Patience darling. I’m right here”

You couldn’t see anything, do anything as you felt the bed dip again. Sign of his presence so close to you. Then you felt it, something cold sliding across your skin. He slided it to your breasts, then to your nipples making them harden at the coldness.

After what you assumed was ice, he pressed his mouth to your breasts. You moaned, arching your back off the mattress.

He pressed the ice against you again, overstimulating the area. It felt good, making you more sensitive than you already were. You felt a desperate need for him, so much that it was almost painful now.

“Azriel!” you moaned again.

“Yes, darling?” He asked at the same time as he pressed his palms to your chest, taking hold of them and playing with your nipples. “please” you whined.

“Proper words darling” he demanded. “Please Azriel, I need you please.”

You could hear and feel the laugh that ran through his body. He was no way near ready with you yet. Not this easily. “Oh darling, you will take what I give you. You understand?”

He put his hand under your chin taking a firm grip on it.

“Open” he said and without questions you obeyed. You felt how he moved closer to you, feeling him stopping just inches away from your face.

“Wider.”

You opened your mouth more. Want and need for him was so hot that the heat was pooling between your legs.

Then you heard the rustle and zip of his pants. Without warnings he pressed the tip of his length on your lips, as if testing you. You took him into your mouth, all that he was giving you. You could feel that it wasn’t even half of him. Your tongue licked him and the bead that had formed on the tip.

You heard him catch his breath, murmuring: “Oh good gods, just like that.”

You took more of him in your mouth and he had to grip the headboard as he lowered himself to give you more of him.

You were seeing stars, his length was now hitting the back of your throat, and you wanted more, all of him.

“You will be the death of me darling.”

Couple of tears were falling from your eyes. Breathing was hard but you just couldn’t care, not when he was with you.

“You can take more darling? can’t you?” He started thrusting into your mouth, drawing out and then slamming back into your throat. You laid there on his bed, tied and seeing only darkness. You let him do whatever he wanted to you. Keeping your mouth open as he deepthroated into you.

You heard him moaning and swearing curses into the air. You moved your tongue against him and then he was coming. White hot strips of him spilling into your mouth.

He pulled out but quickly regained himself and hovered over you. “Swallow” he commanded, and you swallowed, feeling his essence falling down your throat. Then you opened your mouth to finally take a breath of air.

“My girl. Now is the time for your reward. What do you want, baby? Want me to eat you out, spank you or kiss you so the marks don’t fade until everyone has surely noticed that you are spoken for. “

Still blindfolded, you searched for your voice, your throat feeling hoarse when you said: “I- I want you.” His hand was now resting on your hip, the other one next to your head, supporting him. “More specific, darling?”

You swallowed again, sensing his stare on you. “I- want you in me, please Azriel”

Azriel was at the breaking point, the way you said his name, the way you looked like right now under him, tears staining the blindfold, saliva and his cum coating the sides of your lips. He couldn’t resist you for a moment longer.

“How do you want me, slow and gazing into your eyes? Or fucking you fast in this position, or do you want me long-” you interrupted him, not being able to wait for a moment longer. “Just take me and make me yours, please”

And so he did. With absolutely no preparation he opened your legs and pressed himself to your entrance. Then he slid the tip in. He couldn’t believe how heavenly you felt, Azriel couldn’t contain himself. He slid more of himself in and you cursed and moaned from the stretch. It hurt, but at the same time you only wanted him to continue.

He pressed into you so that he was now buried almost to the hilt. To Azriel no one had ever felt so good and so right. And when he started moving, your eyes closed trying to comprehend the immense feeling of pleasure and pain mixing.

You had said that he could take you however he wanted, so he started thrusting into you with a relentless pace, not giving you time to adjust to his big size. You wanted to touch him, see him. So you begged him: “Azriel let me see you, I want to touch you, please.”

At this point, he had no power to deny anything of you, so he ripped off the ropes tying your hands to the bed and took you the knot on the blindfold, all while still sliding in and out of you.

The blindfold fell from your eyes and you could see him. It was however a very different sight than the one you were expecting. Ever so calm and collected, the spymaster was now a mess over you. His eyes stared at you, hunger in them something you had never seen before. His mouth open and panting. And behind him, his wings. Those glorious black wings were open in their full glory, creating their own space just for the two of you. You had heard that Illyrians rarely let people to the touching distance of their wings, for they were very sensitive.

Looking straight into his eyes now, your hand reached to touch his wings. Sliding your fingers on it, feeling the smooth skin. He didn’t stop you, instead he moaned to it, fastening his pace even more. And for a moment you could see yourself from his eyes. Laid bare on the bed under him, naked and full of marks that he had left on your chest.

And when he hit the place inside you that had you curling your toes, you came for him. Throwing your head back and sliding your hand to the membrane of his wing. Then he was coming, only slowing and stopping his pace when he came down from his high.

You both laid there, catching your breath, him still inside of you. Both of you realized how deep in shit you were now, for this had been so good that it was like a drug. You searched his eyes, looking into them and seeing his startled face and wide eyes as he looked at you.

Azriel knew he had messed up, he was in the deep with no way of getting out, for now he could feel the golden thread flowing between you.

#acotar #smut #azriel x reader #azriel #court of thorns and roses #rhysand #cassian #azriel smut #books #fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

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cranberryjuice-posts · 4 months

Text

I’ll crawl home to her

Pairings - Abby Anderson x Fem! Teacher! Reader

An - i love this trope of Abby with a teacher like, her coming home after a long day of patrolling and clearing out infected and her just wanting to be in your arms and hear about your day

An pt 2- hozier is slowly taking over my life him and mitski will be my downfall

Palestine aid link

Abby leaned back in the bed of the truck, her cheeks bright red from exhaustion and the heat. The setting sun blaring down on her and her group after a long day of patrolling.

She hated days like these. Having to leave you before you woke up, just to be out all day until the sun set. Manny chuckled “ahí va ella” Abby looked over at him unamused. “What’s that supposed to mean”

“Nothing Nothing Just pointing out something” he continued. The blond sighed annoyed before looking behind her at the fast moving scenery. Secretly she wondered what the world would of been like if it hadn’t ended— would she of met you, would you both of still been happy, maybe you would of met her dad.

Pushing that thought aside Abby lifted her hand waving at the guys on guard to let their group into the base. Once off the truck she avoided multiple people to not get stuck in conversation.

After turning in her guns Abby made a b-line straight for your apartment. The only thing that really mattered to her right now was to be at her home. In your hallway she hesitated before opening your door. Letting out a tired sigh she walked in.

“And that’s what I’ve been saying, I told Julia that it doesn’t matter if back in her day if—“ you stop mid conversation with Mel to see Abby standing in the doorway.

Mel took note of Abby’s exhausted appearance, patting your shoulder “I’ll see you tomorrow ok” she gave you a soft smile before leaving. Once mel was gone you opened your arms waiting for Abby to walk over.

Abby quickly pulled you into a hug taking a deep breath in just to take in your subtle perfume. “Rough day” You asked leaning back some to take a good look at her worn out face. “Yeah, just.. a lot” she sighed.

You nodded leaning up kissing her gently before stepping down, grabbing her hand and walked her over towards your bed. Abby swore up and down your kisses were the sweetest thing ever— so sweet she would get toothaches.

Setting Her on the bed you silently grabbed your first aid kit to help clean some of the cuts on the girls arms and body. Not once asking her about the people she had killed, or even wondering about the wrong she had done, only wanting to help take care of her. “Shit abs your running a fever” you frowned pulling your hands away from her forehead. “I’m gonna make you some tea ok” kissing her cheek you walked towards portable stove you had recently got preparing a fresh pot of tea.

Abby admired your figure from afar, the long grey military sweat pants that didn’t quite fit you as they were Abby’s, your dark bra and how you had your hair pulled up. She had always liked when you wore your hair naturally down but didn’t mind seeing it pulled back either.

You started to hum a lullaby as you turned the stove on. Slowly moving back and forth Abby almost thought you were nothing more than a dream, like you were a figment of her imagination.

Returning back to the blondes side you helped her out of her clothes— giving her a clean set that you had lying around from earlier times she stayed over.

After a few minutes you placed some of the tea in a mug, handing it to abby you started to stitch up a deep cut in her bicep. It amost made Abby cry how you never worried About what her hands and her body had done, never asking about who or what she had killed, only ever concerned about her no one else

Once she was taken care of you took the now empty cup from her and set it aside. Pulling the covers back you laid down in bed, taking your bra off mainly because you knew Abby liked the skin on skin connection. Waiting for the blonde to strip out of her shirt, you laid down allowing her to fall ontop of you.

You started to undo Abby’s braid as she lightly kissed along your collarbone. Raking your fingers through her hair you started to whisper. “I get it sweet girl.. I get it, it’s ok”

Massaging the girls head you started to tell her about your day. Soft and sweetly showing Abby your love “So I had taught my class about world history today, and we had—“

Abby started to doze off quickly falling asleep. Even if she had died on an assignment No grave could hold her body down she’d still crawl home to you.

#Spotify #lesbian #wlw #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou fluff #abby anderson fluff #the last of us fanfiction

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teacupwrites · 4 months

Text

Angel Dust, Husk, and Alastor with Cannibal! Reader

Angel Dust

After the extermination/battle between hell and heaven, you decided to simply just stay at the hotel, after getting Rosie’s permission

It was nice there anyway, and she didn’t mind your departure so why not?

Everyone there welcomed you with open arms, and you were giddy to have a new home

Angel of course flirted with you the moment you both met, and usually brought in your claws and sharp teeth into said pickup lines

Though after a few threats of eating his fingers, he eased up on it

Angel didn’t fully trust you, sure, he liked you and your presence, but not enough to open up to you

He also wasn’t the most delighted with your diet, and was quite disgusted whenever you chomped down onto some demon legs or ribs

But he tried not to be judgemental, and never made any comments about your food choices

Though his trust changed one day

Angel and Vaggie had an argument, and you were picked to go chase after him

He was being jumped by some random demons, and you watched from afar until one of them brought out a gun

Within a split second, the malicious smiles and laughs were cut off into screams

Angel watched in mixed shock and admiration as you ripped off one of their limbs, and chased them off

Though you weren’t too close to Angel, he was your friend, and you weren’t going to let some assholes hurt him like that

Then, you turned back to Angel with an innocent expression coated in a cherry-red blood

You basically became his bodyguard since then, per Charlie’s request

Angel kept you by his side, other than when he went to work

The two of you had grown close, after he realized you had gone into danger just for him, and he wanted you as far away from Valentino as possible

You were Angel’s best friend, he last thing he was going to let happen was you getting found out by the Moth Overlord

Your his arm candy now, you don’t get a choice

But on a serious note, he cared for you dearly, and kept you close

Angel glowered down at the shark demon who eagerly dug into his pockets, forking out dollar bills with gritted teeth. “Listen here, bitch, I’ll even pay you overtime,” he growled, stuffing the crisp 20s into his gloved hand, whilst the spider rolled his eyes

“I told ya buddy, I ain’t in the mood,” he quipped, propping a hand onto his hip as he quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Now would you fucking leave?”

The shark brought out more money, sneering and spitting onto his boots as he continued to ramble at Angel. Then, he reached into another one of his pockets, bringing out a revolver

But the moment he did so, he froze, and paused, the gun dropping from his shaking hands.

Angel smiled as he heard low snarling from beside him, clawed hands reaching around his waist and gently bringing him closer to the growling cannibal behind him. Your void gaze pinned down the shark demon, who sputtered and quickly snatched his weapon and darted away.

You watched the shark skitter out of sight with a sharp-eyed gaze

Angel exhaled, turning up to you as your furious and vicious expression immediately dropped into a gentle, wide eyed gaze.

Like this lmao-

“Heh, thanks dollface,” he greeted, his frown also turning into a smile.

“Anytime, Angel,”

Husk

When Husk first saw you, he thought you were no good

Alastor had brought you into the hotel to work at the front desk, so Charlie and Vaggie could do other things

You had sold your soul to the charming Radio Demon long ago, and yet Husk had never heard of you before he brought you up to be the receptionist

You were cheery, a bright smile adorning your lips wherever you went, and he despised it

You were too bright and smiley for him at times

Though he was neutral to you, and just gave into your giddiness

And then the extermination came around, and you were all preparing for battle

With the risk of death, you opened up, more truthfully than just sharp-toothed smiles

And then the battle happened

You fought tooth and nail beside your fellow cannibals

Despite the threat of the angelic weapons, you fought well, and killed Angels left and right

But then, an exterminator swooped down, and pinned down Husk, with their spear pointed at his throat

Of course he was horrified, squirming and writhing as he tried to fend off the Angel, but he was vulnerable

Husk was about to accept his death, when you popped up out of goddamn nowhere

Teeth bared, blood stained claws, black eyes blazing

You had seized the angel, grabbing the base of their wings and tearing them from their back, and then sinking your teeth into their neck, killing them off with one final stab to the chest

He was petrified, even after the battle ended

You were cold-faced now, standing by your people with the heart of a lion

But he had a new respect for you

Husk would listen to you whenever you needed it, and you stood up for him as his personal bodyguard

Especially when people would get drunk at his bar and would try to A. sexualize him, B. attack him, or C. demand for more drinks

“Need a drink?” he inquired, continuing to try and clean and wipe blood from his matted and tangled fur.

You shook your head, sitting down at one of the barstools. You both were soaked in red and gold gore, but you were a lot less bothered about it. You were used to it of course, in fact, the golden blood tasted quite sweet on your tongue.

“Hey,” he called quietly, making your black eyes pop open

Husk paused, his gaze shifting as he tried to distract himself, grabbing a well-worn rag and beginning to clean a glass that was already shining

“Are you alright? You’re not injured or anything?”

Considering you were a hellborn cannibal known only for your diet, you were quite surprised to see the grumpy bartender of all people caring for your well-being.

You paused, taking a moment to register his low-octaved words

“I’m good…”

“Thank you, Husk.”

Alastor

Probably one you’d get along with pretty quickly

You were the quiet seamstress of Cannibal Town, sewing, remodeling, and fixing up the old-fashioned clothing that your fellow cannibals adorned

Though there was one customer you always enjoyed to see

Alastor was quite the gentlemen, and a had a soft spot for the hellborn women in Hell

First of all, despite being a murderer himself, he appreciated the purer people, (totally doesn’t get off at seeing them descend into madness)

He came to you every once in a while, and adored your politeness whenever he came to get his coat fixed

During his earlier days, when his hands were much more commonly bloody, he visited you much more often

But when he suddenly disappeared- your shop dimmed and the lively cheer that once graced the insides vanished

When Sir Pentious tore his coat, and he was forced to come to you once more, Alastor wasn’t expecting to come in and have himself seized and violently shaken by you

To say you were pissed was an understatement

You babbled and yelled at the Radio Demon for hours, which took the others by surprise when they came looking for him

Alastor, an Overlord was being sat in a chair as a hellborn cannibal seamstress scolded him like a fretful mother as you fixed up his jacket with quick yet skillful movements

Alastor took it like a champ, and even apologized for keeping you worried for seven years

You forgave him- eventually

Even when not in search of your services, he visited you quite commonly

During earlier morning strolls he’ll buy you some tea or coffee whilst he gossiped about the other Overlords

Sometimes when he visited Rosie he would invite you over

And Rosie was overjoyed of course

The hellborn Overlord was very fair, and even offered you advice when you needed it

While everyone was on good terms with Rosie in cannibal town, you and her were just closer

Alastor also takes you over to the hotel when you so pleased

While the others were disturbed by your diet and the way you ate, they were quite welcoming and were pleased when you offered to help fix their clothes

Not only were you a seamstress, but you also designed clothes

You were ultimately the one who created employee uniforms for other demons after the battle with Adam-

And oh shit- were you enraged at that

You fought alongside your cannibals in the battle, and you witnessed first-hand what happened to Alastor

And you were the one to tend to him

Honestly, you, Niffty, and Rosie were probably the only ones he trusted with stuff like this

Alastor hissed in pain as you carefully worked milk-white bandages around his torso, covering up the bloody wounds along his ribs and chest, bright eyes glaring

“Careful darling, please,” he protested, only for you to narrow your eyes down at him.

“Perhaps if you weren’t so cocky out on the battlefield maybe you’d be more than half-alive,” you quipped, gently completing the wraps and patting his back with a gentle sigh. “I’m lucky you even let me help you.”

The deer demon’s ears pinned to the back of his head, eyes narrowing slightly at your motherly glare

“My dear- I told you I’d be fine,” he protested, quick to stand up and reach for his shirt, though you were quick to pull him back down and plop him into your seat.

“No you wouldn’t have,” you replied, propping your hands on your hips. “Now relax, and let me get Niffty to get you some food.”

…

“Thank you, dear.”

A/N: I apologize, I feel like these were really short, but I hope you enjoy! xox 💋

323 notes · View notes

eddiesghxst · 1 year

Text

summer vacation

me writing a full eddie fic? who would've thunk fr

lmaoo here's a little something I randomly typed up, yes it is older neighbor!eddie and no, this trope will never get old (TO ME! TO. ME.)

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: older neighbor!eddie x college fem!reader

summary: You're back from college for the summer and your parent's new neighbor, Mr. Munson is hot

contains: age-difference (reader is 23, Eddie is like late 30's or sum idk...older), slight forbidden-relationship trope, car sex, making out, tiny mention of oral, fingering, slight praise kink, p in v (unprotected - don't be stupid), creampie, and eddie being a slutty flirt <3

word count: 4.6k

-masterlist-

okay, I think that's everything so...enjoy!

Coming home for summer was, for the most part, decent. You don’t have to worry about buying food and toiletries; you can spend your days doing nothing without feeling like shit about it, and apart from seeing a few familiar faces you aren’t quite fond of, you also get to see childhood friends you’d missed over the semester.

Your parents moved into a bigger house after your mom finally persuaded your dad to buy her the home of her dreams. White picket fence, green grass to match with a wrap-around porch, and a lovely pool in the backyard. It was beautiful, no doubt. And the neighborhood was nice, apart from the obnoxious kids that play rounds of ding dong ditch every now and then, along with your neighbor that blares his heavy metal music all day. You’re forced to listen to mixes of Dio, Megadeath, and Ozzy on a day-to-day basis, but you can’t find it in yourself to be mad, considering the man blaring said music is a sight for sore eyes. You’ve only seen him in passing, in the morning when he’s moving the trash for pick-up day or when he’s just getting home from work.

His name is Mr. Munson; your mother told you one day. “He’s quite friendly, actually. He hasn’t said much since we moved in, but he’s nice for the most part."

And you can admit when someone is attractive, and Mr. Munson is attractive. But he’s your parent's neighbor, so there’s not much you can do in that realm except admire from afar whenever you get the chance.

You end up booking yourself a babysitting gig for a family friend halfway into the summer: two kids, Lily and David, a set of six-year-old twins. For the most part, they’re easy to manage, David is quieter and more reserved than Lily’s extroverted nature, but they balance each other out enough for you to tolerate them.

It’s Friday night, and you have them until the morning because their parents are having a date night. Your parents have been on a cruise the past week, so apart from Lily and David, you’ve got the house to yourself. You let the twins choose what they wanted for dinner, and they picked pizza hut, something about them wanting to try cheese stuffed crust. You allow them to have one can of soda each as long as they promised not to tell their parents, and they swore on Lily’s stuffed animal, Oreo, that they wouldn’t share your secret.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when you settle into the couch to watch a movie. You’re under the impression that the twins are asleep until you hear the soft patter of little feet behind you. You turn around to see a sleepy Lily rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Hey, bud, what’s up?” You question, watching as she rounds the corner to stand before you. “I can’t sleep. The music is too loud.” Lilly complains. You frown, “There’s no music playing, buddy.”

Lily shakes her head and points towards the living room window, and you immediately know what he’s talking about. You can see the garage light from Mr. Munson’s house, indicating that he’s most likely working on something in there. You nod and get up, “Okay. I’ll take care of it; just wait here.”

Lily watches as you put on some shoes before slipping out the front door. You can see her watching through the window as you walk across the lawn toward Mr. Munson’s garage, and you laugh to yourself.

You’re slightly nervous to ask him to turn the music down, but you’re sure Lily isn’t the only annoyed person in the neighborhood, so you take it that you’re doing everyone a favor.

He’s leaned over the open hood of his car, elbow-deep in grease, as he tugs at a few parts. You don’t want to startle him, so you clear your throat, but it’s drowned out by King Diamond singing ‘Curse of the Pharaohs.’ You’re not entirely familiar with the band Mercyful Fate, but you’ve heard Mr. Munson play them quite a few times, enough to be able to name a few of their songs.

His garage is nice, mostly clean apart from cluttered shelves and cabinets. Three electric guitars hang on the wall, equally spaced from each other to form a pristine presentation. Around the instruments, the wall is filled with posters of different metal bands, a few of them you recognize but for the most part, you just think they add a nice touch.

You step further into the garage and lightly tap his bare shoulder. The man glances over at you, and you catch a glimpse of a cigarette hanging from his lip before he returns to his task. “Can I help you?” He mutters over the music.

Your mother’s words toss around in your head; He’s quite friendly, actually... he’s nice for the most part. Some friendly introduction that was.

You clear your throat before you speak, “Yeah, I…I live next door, um, I’m babysitting tonight, and so I was just wondering if you could turn down the music.”

He doesn’t respond, and for a moment, you think he didn’t hear you, but then he’s taking in a breath and standing up straight as he steps away from the car, grabbing the towel in his back pocket to wipe his greased hands as he turns around and eyes you for a moment.

You take in the full sight of him, dressed in ripped jeans and a shitty loose white tank top. His hair is tied back into a bun, messy bangs dusting the tops of his eyelashes as he blinks at you. He takes a drag of his cigarette before he speaks, “How can I help you?”

So, he didn’t hear you. You take in a breath as you rock on the heels of your feet; you speak louder this time, practically yelling over the music, “I’m babysitting right now, and uh, your music is a little loud.” He studies you, slightly narrowing his eyes before he speaks again.

“Don’t like my music, princess?”

Your lips part in surprise before quickly shaking your head, “No! No, I don’t mind, really. I’m not exactly the one with the request.” You gesture towards your house, and he glances over at where you had pointed to catch a glimpse of the little kid watching from the window. Mr. Munson lets out a small laugh, and you smile as he turns back to you, placing a hand against his chest and bowing his head, “My apologies.”

You watch as he turns around and walks over to the shelf where his stereo sits, reaching up for the volume and turning it down to an acceptable level. You take the time to admire the stretch of his arms and the few tattoos on display beneath the garage light.

He’s taking another drag of his cigarette when he turns around and walks over to you. “Better?” It’s a lighthearted tone he uses, straying away from what many would think to be condescending. You nod and breathe, muttering a small thank you before turning on your heel to walk back home. But for some reason, something compels you to turn around. You have to force yourself to ignore that he has still been watching you from where he stands, leaning against the side of his car.

“I really like your car, by the way.” You sound breathless, like you’d been holding the compliment in, and it suddenly burst from your lips. Mr. Munson glances down at the car and smiles. It’s a vintage 1968 Ford Mustang fastback, one you’ve seen many times on those car-themed calendars they sell at the gas station register. It’s black with nicely tinted windows and a top coat so shiny that you believe it’s freshly painted. It fits him perfectly; they complement each other in a seamless way that you admire.

“Why thank you, princess.” He’s walking up to you, and you hold your breath. He stands next to you and turns to join you as you admire the car from afar. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it and crushing it beneath his shoe. “You like vintage cars?” White clouds escape his lips as he talks, and you like how the smoke burns your lungs.

You glance towards him and nod with a smile, “Yeah. I’m a big fan of Mustangs. I wanted one in high school, but my dad said no— too fast for a 16-year-old, I guess.” You softly laugh, and he smiles, gazing over at you. “Remind me one of these days, and I’ll let you take her for a spin.”

Your head snaps towards him, and you glance up at him with a look of surprise. “I—... Seriously? I don’t know if I trust myself not to crash it.” You nervously laugh. He laughs with you and pats your shoulder, softly squeezing as he responds, “I’ve got faith in you,” You shiver when he leans forward a bit, “Don’t tell your dad; it’ll be our secret.” Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest when he sneaks in a quick wink, squeezing your shoulder once before walking back towards the garage.

“Um… Okay, Goodnight, Mr. Munson.” You internally cringe from your high-pitched voice, and you swear you can hear a smile when he responds, facing you as he gets back to work beneath the hood, “Night, sweetheart.”

You’re halfway down his driveway when he adds, “Oh, and uh… Just call me Eddie…” You turn around to see him sifting through his toolbox, glancing your way, and flashing a small smile. “No need for formalities. I’m not eighty years old.” He waves a dismissive hand, and you nod. “Okay… Eddie.” You tell him your name, and he smiles before returning to his task.

You practically sprint back to your house, slamming the door behind you with a deep exhale as you replay the entire conversation.

You spend the rest of your night thinking about your neighbor, Eddie Munson.

————

Over the next few weeks, you conclude that Eddie Munson was not flirting with you.

There’s no possible way he could’ve been flirting with you. For starters, he’s a grown man; he most likely wants nothing to do with a 23-year-old woman struggling to make her way through college. Secondly, you probably had just mistaken him being nice for whatever flirtatious fantasy you’d made up. And lastly, what puts the final nail in the coffin, is when you catch a glimpse of him walking into his home at two in the morning with a woman, one you’d never seen, but someone of his fancy considering the way she’d dragged him inside to do…god knows what.

So, no. Eddie Munson was not flirting with you, and he does not want you. As much as it crushed your ridiculous Lana Del Rey-inspired fantasies, you accepted that the older man had only seen you as a neighbor— a possible friend at most.

The two of you speak here and there whenever you cross paths when he’s leaving for work, taking the trash out, or when he’s working on his car, and you’re watering your mother’s flower bed—a friendly wave with a soft smile. You force yourself to ignore the little things he says that can be mistaken for advances because, in reality, he’s just being nice, and you have a crush.

It’s a hot Saturday afternoon when you see him again, three weeks after your first late-night conversation. You’re standing on the lawn, one hand holding a water hose to spray the flowers and the other hand busy holding a popsicle. Eddie is busy replacing a part in his car, something about a failed transmission he mentioned to you some days ago.

You’re busy listening to your summer playlist as you devour the sweet treat and water the plants, so focused that you don’t even hear Eddie call your name. Through the blaring volume of your headphones, you can catch the sound of a car horn, pulling you from your task-induced trance. You look over to Eddie’s driveway to see he’s pulled the car out of the garage and is now standing outside, leaning against the open car door.

You remove a single earbud and turn off the water hose. You can’t see Eddie's eyes behind the dark-tinted sunglasses he’s wearing, but you can tell he’s looking at you. “You still up for that drive I promised you?”

You think how quickly your heart begins to race inside your chest is stupid. “Uh— now?”

He shrugs, and you take a silent sharp breath, “I mean, unless if you’re doing something better—” “No!” You feel embarrassed at your evident enthusiasm, “No, I mean… yeah, okay, just…let me get my shoes.”

You don’t stay long enough to see Eddie smile, but you hear him chuckle to himself as you drop the hose and jog into your house. You curse as you rummage through your closet for the shoes you had in mind, hastily slipping them on once you find them and throwing away the rest of your popsicle. On your way out, your mother asks where you're headed, and you spin a quick lie about going to the gas station for a drink.

Eddie is patiently waiting outside his car when you walk up to him, a nervous smile plastered across your face. “Um… So, where are we going?”

He’s casually chewing a piece of gum as he lazily smiles; you can see the reflection of yourself in his glasses, and your heart races in anticipation. “You ever been to the drop-off?”

You shake your head no, and you’re becoming a little concerned with the rate your heart is beating as you watch the smirk on Eddie’s lips spread into a full smile. “Well, you’re in for a treat, princess.”

————

The ‘drop-off’ is a cliff.

A beautiful one, full of wildlife and trees, with a tiny stream at the bottom. You’d question Eddie's motives for bringing you here if you didn't know better. For all you know, Eddie could be a killer that’s coaxed you into his car, driven you out to this cliff, and intends to toss you over the edge to face your inevitable doom.

However, you don’t think that’s his intention, especially not with how he’s licking into your mouth with a lustful hunger, moaning against your lips when you climb over the console to straddle him and grind against the obvious tent in his jeans.

You’re not 100% sure how you ended up here, making out with your much-much older neighbor, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop and think about it because he’s kissing you in a way that makes you want to do unspeakable things.

“For a second there, I thought you wanted to kill me,” Stupid, such a stupid thing to say in the middle of making out, but you say it anyway. To your delight, Eddie breathlessly laughs as he looks up at you, licking his lips whilst his hands slip beneath your skirt to squeeze at your hips.

There’s music softly playing in the back, Mercyful Fate again; Eddie had told you he stumbled across a few of their old CDs while cleaning out his storage and has since been going through one of those phases where he can’t seem to listen to anything else.

You want to kiss Eddie again, but suddenly he’s clearing his throat and giving your thighs a soft pat in indication to move back to your seat. “I should get you home now; it’s late.”

The frown on your face isn’t hard to miss, but Eddie doesn’t see it either way, too preoccupied with avoiding your gaze. “What?” “It’s late.”

You gaze down at him silently for a few seconds before returning to the passenger seat. You don't understand. You don’t understand Eddie Munson. All this time you spent convincing yourself that he wasn’t into you has gone to waste now that he’s just stuck his tongue down your throat, but now he can’t even look you in the eye.

He takes a slow breath, twisting one of the many rings wrapped around his fingers. “Look…I know how this seems, and you probably think I’m an asshole, but… we can’t.” Eddie can feel you glaring at the side of his head, and he braves through it to glance at you. You look confused and upset, much like he’s feeling right now, unbeknownst to you. “Why not?” “Because I—” He looks at you again and pauses before shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

You let it sit for a few moments before you speak up and say his name, waiting until he looks at you to speak, “I wanted to come here… and I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and… I want you to fuck me.”

You’re not exactly sure where the sudden boldness came from, but you feel so fucking good having it off your chest. You want Eddie to fuck you. You’ve been wanting Eddie to fuck you; hell, it’s practically all you’ve been thinking about since you came home for summer and saw him. So many fantasies of Eddie fucking you in various places; your house, his house, on the hood of his car, in your backyard near the pool. You want it all, and you’re bored of using just your hands and imagination.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re really asking for here, sweetheart.” There’s a warning glint in his eyes, an offer to back out and forget this ever happened, but you don’t want that— you want him.

“But I’m not asking. I want you to fuck me, Eddie. And I know you want it too; otherwise, we wouldn’t still be here.”

Eddie looks at you with a gaze good enough to have you clenching your thighs beneath your skirt. He looks away with a breathless laugh, “You don’t give up, do you?”

You try to hide the smile tugging at your lips but fail as you shake your head. “Shit… Okay… Okay, fine, uh�� get in the back.”

You try to be as coy as possible and not show your excitement as you climb into the backseat of Eddie’s car. You watch him sift through his glove box, cursing to himself when he can’t find what he’s looking for. “I’m on the pill,” You suddenly say, growing shy when Eddie looks back at you. “...Just thought I’d let you know.”

Eddie nods and shuts the glovebox, “I guess that solves that problem, then.”

Eddie’s then climbing to the backseat to join you, groaning in protest at the cramped space and his tight back. His lips meet yours in a hasty kiss when you advance, hungry to feel him in any way you can. He curses under his breath as he finally settles in, pulling you closer to sit on his lap. “You sure your parents aren’t gonna be wondering where you went?” He mutters against your lips, moaning when you reach down to palm him over his jeans. You nod, breathless, as you respond with a mischievous smile, “Told them I was going to get a drink.”

You’re back to kissing, rutting against one another like you’re getting paid to do it, and Eddie makes a comment about feeling like he’s back in high school fucking in some empty parking lot, and you laugh. Your laugh falls into a moan when Eddie sneaks a hand beneath your skirt to pet over your clothed center, humming at the obvious evidence of your arousal. You try your best to keep kissing Eddie, but you lose focus when he pushes your panties aside and drags a finger through your wet heat. Your hips twitch against his hold, and you mewl, dropping your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. “Need it, Eddie, please.” You beg, and Eddie hums, rubbing your clit and causing your thighs to twitch, “What, princess? What do you need, hm?” “Need you to fuck me.”

He chuckles, and you whine in annoyance at his teasing when he rubs your clit, “Gotta get you ready for me first, pretty girl. That okay?” He can feel you hastily nodding against his neck, hips squirming for more when he finally gives it to you, slowly sinking a single digit into you. Eddie’s sporting a short scuff these days, too lazy to shave, and the sensation of the coarse hair scratching against you sends shivers down your spine as you nuzzle against his neck, begging for more, more, more.

His other hand smooths up the expanse of your thigh and around your hips to squeeze the fat of your ass, groaning lowly when you whimper and push against his hand. “M-more, Eddie.“

Eddie could come just from hearing your broken voice beg for his fingers, “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, princess.” He sinks in another finger, slowly fucking them in and out of your wet cunt until you’re a whiney mess atop of him, begging for more.

You reach a hand out to hold onto the seat behind him, nails digging into the vintage leather as you rock against his fingers. The wet sound of Eddie’s fingers thrusting into you fills out the space, falling into a filthy harmony with his radio. Eddie will, without a doubt, be thinking about this moment for the coming weeks. He’s sure of it.

Eddie makes you come twice before laying you across his leather seats, once with just his fingers and again with his fingers, pulling down your tiny tank top to suck and lick at your tits, leaving little red and purple blotches across your soft skin.

The space is tight in the back of his car, but neither of you cares enough to mention it. You’re starry-eyed and blissed out as you watch Eddie sit up to unbuckle his jeans and push them to rest below his ass. Your mouth waters at the sight of him; he’s long and thick, not the thickest you’ve had but definitely the longest. As you watch Eddie languidly stroke himself, you want to wrap your lips around him and taste the small amounts of precum he smears across his tip. Eddie glances at you and smirks when he sees your hungry gaze; he knows what you want and wants to give it to you.

He leans over you and smears his sticky thumb across your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you gladly grant him. You wrap your lips around his thumb and suck as if it was his cock, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger and humming at the burst of flavor against your tongue, the taste of Eddie Munson. You love it, and you want more, but Eddie has different plans.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and brings it down to slicken the slide of his cock as he strokes himself a few more times. He runs the tip of his cock from your entrance to your clit, slapping it against you a few times to pull pathetic moans from deep within your chest. He smiles, kissing you as he does it again, “Fuck, you’re so wet, Jesus Christ.” He moans against your lips, and you softly laugh, squirming to feel more of him. The sounds you’re making are obscene, both your moans and the wet sloshing between your legs each time Eddie taps himself against you.

“Eddie, please. Please fuck me, I want it so bad—” He cuts you off with another kiss before he pulls away to adjust your position. He lifts one of your legs to drape over his shoulder as he pins the other leg to the seat. “There we go, keep them open, baby. Just like that,” He hums in approval, and your chest flutters at the notion. The initial push of Eddie’s cock within your walls is what you’d imagine heaven to feel like in the form of a sensation.

He was big, that much you could tell from looking, but actually feeling it is almost otherworldly. You can feel every vein rubbing against your walls with each inch he sinks further into you. By the time he bottoms out, balls pressed against the thick of your ass and pelvis deliciously kissing your clit, you’re at a loss for words.

You can hear Eddie praising you for how well you’re taking him, but through your lust-clouded mind, you don’t comprehend much, too absorbed in the feeling of Eddie slamming into you repeatedly.

Eddie’s hand is pressed into the seat right next to your head, holding him up as he fucks you for all your worth, and you find yourself wrapping a hand around his wrist, nails digging into the tattooed skin. He hisses in pleasure, moaning when you clench around him. “You feel so fucking good, princess. Taking me so well, fuck.”

You let your head fall to the side, lips pressing against Eddie's wrist in a gentle kiss, and it seems to flip something in Eddie’s brain because he gives you a particularly rough thrust, humming when you let out a high-pitched moan. “Oh my god—- shit, you’re so fucking wet. This is all for me, hm?”

You’re pathetically nodding and moaning in response, grinding your hips to meet his hasty thrusts.

With your two previous orgasms, you find yourself teetering on the edge of overstimulation, thighs twitching to close around Eddie’s frame, but he’s quick to deny you the right. “Keep them open, princess. Need to see the way this pretty pussy swallows my dick.”

Eddie’s now sitting back on his knees, head tilted down to avoid hitting the roof of the car, allowing him to gaze down at the sight of your wet cunt taking every inch of him. He’s got tunnel vision as he coasts his hands from your hips to your cunt, slowing down his thrusts to spread your sticky lips apart slowly. You pulse beneath his gaze, and you feel him twitch within you. “Look at this pretty flower,” he hums, leaning down to let a dribble of spit drip onto your awaiting sex. You moan his name, and he smiles, dragging a thumb through the spit to spread it against your clit.

He begins thrusting again, caught between the sight of his cock drilling in and out of your pussy, the bounce of your tits with each thrust, and the way your face twists with pleasure whenever he hits that one spot.

It’s unexpected when you come; you’re practically speechless as Eddie fucks every thought out of your head. He groans at the feeling of you clenched around him, the view of you squirming beneath him and clawing at his seat. If it were anyone else, he would’ve bitched about that, but you look so fucking good.

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna come,” Eddie pants, and you moan in eagerness when he says it, eyes fluttering open to watch as he starts to succumb to the feeling. ”Fuck, where do you want it, princess?” “Inside, please. Want it inside, Ed’s.”

Ed’s, that’s what does it for him. He’s immediately tipping over the edge, pressing his entire length into you and filling you to the fucking brim. You can feel some of it leak out of you, dripping down your ass and onto the seats below you. You watch in awe as his jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut, and head tipping back in ecstasy. You want to take a picture and have this view for the rest of your life.

When Eddie pulls out, you’re sensitive and cry out in protest, but he kisses your jaw gently and tells you how good you did. He can’t help it when he leans back and looks at the sight below him, ringed fingers gently massaging your sore inner thighs, “You look so fucking pretty filled with me, sweetheart… I’m going to be addicted to you.”

You laugh, and he smiles before proceeding to help you get appropriately dressed again. Once you’re both dressed and cleaned to the best of your ability, with the help of a few leftover fast food napkins in Eddie’s glove box, you make your way to the front seats again.

Eddie glances over at you and smiles when you shy away. He reaches for his box of Marlboro's on the dashboard, and you watch as he lights up. He takes a slow breath, letting the smoke properly settle into his lungs before turning to you with a smirk.

“Let’s go get you that drink.”

1K notes · View notes

sanakimohara · 6 months

Text

“Stalker” B.C.

{ MDNI }

+++++

Chan as a stalker would be painfully toxic. The constant messages you’d receive from him, vague, but highly personal. He wouldn’t threaten you at all…at first.

It starts off with little random reminders or sending a few innocent pictures of you doing random tasks throughout the day.

“You look so cute when you’re cleaning, baby…”

“You should really eat something today, sweetheart…”

“Don’t stay up too late like last time little one…need you well rested okay?…”

Then he progresses to intricate gestures. It’s not hard to get to you since you’re a trainee under JYPE and coincidentally share the same dorm building as Stray Kids. Chan has easy access to the areas you occupy most often.

Even your dorm, specifically your bedroom.

Of course you don’t know this so when random pieces of your clothing start to disappear and reappear at odd times you just chalk it up to your forgetfulness. In reality Chan slips into your room when no one’s around, admiring how neat or messy you keep it, and committing to memory all the little trinkets/games/decor that you personalized it with. He likes the fact that your room reflects who you are, it brings out your purity in his opinion, and if he could lock you in it he would.

Deep down he liked the idea of locking you in his room much better. Then you’d be even safer under his constant watch. For now he settled with invading your private spaces, slipping your panties into his pocket as he wanders around, picking up the little messes around your room. When he’s all done and satisfied with the amount of possessions he’s taken from you he writes a note to you before leaving and continuing on with his day like nothing happened.

“Keep your room clean, sweetheart.”

You’re shaking with fear and anxiety reading his note but seeing as you don’t have a clue who wrote it you keep the information to yourself. It bothers you all week but weirdly you’re loving the anonymous attention. Blushing at random times of the day just from the thought of who might’ve written that note for you. It’s still terrifying but you admire their devotion…

Chan observes you from an afar after that, continuing to sneak in your room when he has the chance, and leaving less than innocent notes on your desk more often.

“You did well practicing. I was impressed, really,”

“I left you a little gift for working hard, baby. Open it when you’re ready..”

You spot his gift at the foot of your bed, all the random clothes (mostly underwear) he’s taken from you are neatly washed and folded too. It disgusts you to see your intimates causally laid out -and probably used for other purposes- like a present. At the same time your mind is reeling with the image of your ‘admirer’ getting off to the simple scent of you or the thought of you wearing them.

You’ve never felt so beautifully violated in your life and you hate how wet it gets you.

Something has to be wrong with you…

Paranoid. You become extremely paranoid and Chan uses that against you. You’re such a young trainee, being tortured by some skillful stalker, and he’s the first person you open up to about it. How can he not help you cope?

Everytime you come running to him about the last occurrence with your supposed stalker Chan is ready to console you with a warm smile and loving embrace. Sure, he’s extremely turned on by the fear in your wide eyes, and his cock twitches every time you curl into him for a comforting hug. He’s just there to help you through this mess, right?

“Why would anyone want to treat you this way?..”

“I’ll protect you I promise… “

“You can always come to me when you don’t feel safe..”

Every word he says is a backhanded lie and you fall for it every time. You spend less time in your dorm and more time with him. The other trainees and his members notice but don’t say a word since Chan never makes it a big deal. That isn’t to say he doesn’t purposefully act unnerved by the notion of a stalker with in the company.

His habit of texting you escalates into sending obscure photos of you in the shower, alone in the practice rooms, or simply getting changed. He’s gotten comfortable with his obsession now, actively seeking out chances for vulnerability, and that raises your fears and fantasies higher.

“Want to see you do this in person…”

“I can’t help but to watch you , baby… I’m just making sure you’re safe…”

Safe….and unknowingly reliant on him.

A perfect combination of control and fear.

“I know everything about you, little one. You can never hide from me…”

+++++

#bang chan #bang chris #skz #skz smut #stray kids #bang chan smut #skz x reader #chan skz #skz imagines #stray kids x reader

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bomber-grl · 5 months

Text

General Mob dating hcs

Pairing(s): Shigeo Kageyama x Gn!Reader

He’s so cute

And really really awkward, almost painfully so

I mean when he first confesses to you it was done two ways

The first was after being continuously hyped by dimple, reigen, and his brother so he decides to buy a bouquet of flowers and go from there

That or it was all spontaneous and you had accidently confessed to him, it was all overwhelming for him and he almost went to ???

But you quickly comforted him and reassured him of how u really felt (although a downside was having to say the truth of your embarrassing feelings)

You were most likely friends with mob or were similar to Tsubomi

I’ll go with the first route to start

Since the two of you were friends, he probably had never thought of liking you in that way

Until he did

In this scenario you’d have to be an esper along with mob since you’d have to be close enough to work alongside him with reigen

Anyway, because you’re both esters (especially if you’re a powerful one) then he’d feel really connected to you

I mean, you’re one of the few people who could possibly understand how he feels

If you’re one of the popular kids and are constantly getting love letters then he’d look at you from afar

He really admires and likes you so once you guys get together in this scenario he’s more than pumped and obviously ends up telling anyone he can

More into the relationship hcs-

He’s really cute, which is more than obvious

He’s pretty awkward and if you’d wanna ask him anything you’ll have to give him a few seconds before he manages to say anything

He’s pretty slow on hand holding too

If you were to ever hold his hand he’d have to let go instantly before his powers make it a negative memory

He’ll even go to reigen and his brother for help with gifts and advice too

(Yknow, after reigens character development)

A specific scenario would be like for Valentine’s Day or just to gift you something

He decides to go to reigen then his brother, and even tome

He’d ultimately decide to get you a little basket full with your fav snacks and even a little bouquet

When it comes to finally giving it you he gets so flustered 😭

He gives them to you despite his nervousness and when you decide to hug or give him a kiss on the cheek-

He nearly explodes on the spot

Mob exe has stopped working

Please just give him some space afterwards 😭

(He severely needs it)

If you ever gift him anything back like this, or even milk from the vending machine at school-

He’ll definitely fluster and even thank you formally 😭

You’ll have to tell him to stop because people are staring but also because the two of you are literally dating

When you first hug him he’s so stiff

He’s just stiff in your arms and when he returns it, he just snuggles into your neck to try and hide his face from passerby’s

When you start being more open about your relationship and start openly holding hands the body improvement club/ telepathy club really congratulate him

+ tome just getting mad at mob for not letting her know of your relationship sooner

And just the rest are shenanigans of her trying to convince you to join the club

If you guys were to ever have a sleepover it’s most definitely at your house

Ain’t no way it’s gonna be at his

Anyway, you’ll probably watch a movie and when you feel mob lean on you you decide to just lay him down and go to bed which ends in the two of you cuddling

Of course dimple had to be there for “supervision “ he says

But anyway when you decide to hold mob in your arms you feel him moving and starts mumbling incoherently

Then he gets up abruptly and totally freaks out when he realizes how close you two were

He gets teased endlessly by dimple 😭

Now, speaking of ritsu

He’s really supportive of mobs relationship with you, he was just a lil worried about the confession if he’s gonna be real

He was more worried that you wouldn’t like mob back and even worse, how he’d react

So when the two of you start going out he’s really happy for his older brother

And surprisingly, he thinks good of you before you even meet

(Surprisingly because of how emo he is)

If you ever get in a situation where you can’t defend yourself then he’ll definitely be there

He’d go “???” And go absolute ham on whoever hurt you

He gets seriously upset that he became that way infront of you and needs serious reassurance from you

Eventually you’re introduced to ritsu and it’s goes as best as it could

It’s pretty awkward but atleast ritsu thinks ur good enough lmao

Of course he eventually becomes more open

Especially with his emotions

But things between you, things stay pretty much the same

#gn reader #male reader #female reader #fanfic #fluff #fanfic fluff #fluff headcanons #mob psycho 100 #mob pyscho #mob psycho shigeo #mob psycho mob #mob psycho anime #shigeo kageyama #mp100 shigeo #mob shigeo #mob x reader #shigeo kageyama x reader #Shigeo x reader #kageyama x reader

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maliciouslove · 1 year

Text

𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕐𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨

ʚ pairing ɞ stepbrother!denki kaminari x reader

NSFW, dark content, aged up characters (21+)

ʚ word count ɞ 4.7k

ʚ summary ɞ having a step brother isn’t easy, especially if he is as fun and good looking as yours. you always got along just fine, but some very depraved and dark corner of your mind always forced you to look at him different, to imagine things that were taboo—to touch yourself while thinking of him. so when you had to crash at his place for a couple of days while your apartment was being fumigated, things escalated rather fast. i mean, it’s fine if it doesn’t go in, right?

ʚ tags ɞ mention of death (reader’s mother), tw stepcest, tw dubcon, masturbation, tw voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), tw spit, pussyjob, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breeding, recording, blackmail

Most people say that having a parent remarry and having step-siblings is awful. You, however, don't see it that way.

Despite the devastation of losing your mother at a young age, you were grateful to your father for stepping up and taking care of you with everything he had after your mother's passing. You were 4 at the time, and things didn’t quite make sense until you got older—but with time, the more you matured, the more you came to terms with the situation. The older you got, the better you understood how much of a super dad you actually had—on the one hand, he always prioritized you, gave you everything he could and made sure that you didn’t miss out on anything, partially spoiling his little girl. On the other hand, he also chose to be very honest with you and talk to you about difficult topics instead of shying away from them. Therefore, you were able to understand what happened to your mother and were fully supported while working through the grief.

For all this, you were truly grateful to your dad, though, there came a time where you became aware of all the sacrifices that he had made for your sake as well. Turns out, that he avoided dating anyone else for the longest of times, resulting in you having to actually push him into pursuing romance and give him your slightly aggressive blessing.

"Dad, it's just a date." You roll your eyes at him.

"It feels like I'm betraying your mother, our family."

"Dad," you hold his gaze firmly. "Mom is gone. I'm in high school. And you deserve to be happy! Get out there, have some fun!" You push him forcefully out the front door and fix the collar of his shirt. "Don't be home too late, I’ll leave you some lasagna in the fridge. Now go!"

And when he found someone that made him happy, someone that made his worries go away, you were nothing but supportive. She was gorgeous and smart and had witty remarks that made you laugh, so you accepted her into your life. However, she also had a son, the same age as you—a tall and lanky boy named Denki Kaminari.

The first time you met him it was awkward, you were both 18—just about to graduate from high school, you were shy and quiet and he was just all over the place, bouncing with energy. But you found common ground, talking about games and anime, so you became friends rather quickly, progressively spending more and more time together. You’ve always been an honest person so denying that you thought he was handsome was pointless—fluffy blonde hair and amber eyes that turn gold in the sunlight, he had a very intoxicating smile, and most importantly of all—he made you laugh. But he was your dad’s girlfriend’s son, so he was—in all ways possible—off limits to you. Therefore you were content just admiring him from afar.

Sometimes, you stared a bit too much, making up scenarios in your head before bedtime, turning off all the lights before you push your panties aside, ashamed that it's him you’re thinking about.

And here you were, two years later walking your respective parents down the aisle, grinning at each other and testing out how it feels to refer to each other as brother and sister.

"Okay little sis, shall we hit the open bar, get wasted and embarrass our parents?"

"Totally, big brother," you winked at him and his face turned red at a comically fast pace.

"Okay, how about we drop the sis ‘n bro stuff? Feels weird."

"Does it now, big brother?" you bat your eyelashes at him, a seductive smile plastered on your lips. All Denki can manage is a dramatic groan in response, walking away quickly, hearing you cackle as the distance between you two grew larger.

He might be off limits, even more so now that he was your step brother, but you still enjoyed making him flustered. The perk of it was that it was extremely easy to do so—blow some air on his nape, trace a finger along his jawline and he’s ready to turn into a puddle on the floor.

And you did this within limits. Of course.

Your parents were happy that the both of you got along so well, and even happier when you both got accepted into the same college, living in the same city. Although you studied different courses, rarely seeing each other on campus, you did occasionally go to parties together, Denki making sure to get your drunk ass back home safely every time. He was kind and dependent and always had your back.

Even more so when you had discovered that your suspiciously cheap rental apartment was infested with termites, having to be fully fumigated, and you had to ask your step brother if you could crash at his place for a couple of days.

“Of course!” his voice sounded chipper over the phone. “We’re so totally having a Marvel marathon, I am not taking no for an answer, pack your shit and come over, I’ll have nachos ready in 30 minutes.”

The line went silent as he hung up and you found yourself smiling at his enthusiasm. A voice at the back of your head told you he’d be such a fine boyfriend—if he wasn’t your step brother.

Yet, you allowed yourself a few minutes of imagining what kind of dates he would take you on—arcade dates, bringing you to museums so he can narrate over the audio guide with absolute nonsense and making some lame joke about van Gogh and George Weasly and ‘hole-y’. You shake your head as if to purge the thoughts and you get on with packing your essentials for the next couple of days.

You stare at your underwear drawer and contemplate. Would it be weird if you pick the sexiest lingerie you own... just to stay at your step brother's place for a few days? Totally not.

“Self-care.” You say to yourself as you take out several lacy thongs and bralettes that match, carefully placing them in your suitcase. You just like wearing nice underwear, what’s the big deal? It’s only for you to see anyway.

Right?

Happy with the items you’ve packed, double checking if you’ve got your toothbrush and all your chargers— you take a deep breath and vacate your apartment, heading over to Denki’s.

“We should’ve just gotten an apartment together, it would’ve been so much cheaper and nicer.” Denki whined as he helped you carry your suitcase up the stairs, as his building had no elevator.

“So what I’m hearing is you want to see my pretty face every day, correct?” you smirked, noticing the barely visible butt clench he did upon hearing your words, at which you chuckled. “Honestly, you’d get sick of me in about a week so be glad we don’t live together.”

He grumbles something you can't understand under his breath and you allow him to move on from the topic.

The first night in his apartment goes well—you have dinner together and then proceed with a quiet movie night. Snuggled together under a fuzzy blanket, the light of the TV was illuminating Denki’s face, showing off his best features—playful amber eyes, devilish smile and a sharp jawline. You spent more time looking at said face and judging the softness of his blonde locks, rather than looking at whatever movie he put on for you.

The realization that you haven’t gotten laid for a few months now and that your step brother is awfully handsome makes you feel a certain way, insides knotting up and devious thoughts plaguing your mind.

Mindlessly, you place your hand on his thigh under the blanket and you feel his body immediately tense up under your touch. Kaminari tries to play it off cool, like nothing has happened, keeping his gaze fixed on the screen.

So that’s how you wanna play, hm?

Your hand travels up and down his thigh, caressing it, squeezing it every once in a while and slowly but surely going further up with each stroke. At the same time you maintain a blank façade, pretending to be fully focused on the movie.

Once your hand starts getting dangerously close to his now semi-hard cock, Denki lets out a fake cough and gets up under the pretense of getting ice cream and some new drinks. Your eyes follow his frame as he exits the room almost skittishly and the dangerous thoughts make you lick your lips in excitement.

He’d look very cute broken and torn up over experiencing sexual desire towards his little step sister.

A plan begins forming in your head.

You spend the rest of the evening making Denki’s temperature rise and his ears turn red with embarrassment—a subtle press of your tits against his arm when you cling to it, removing stray hairs from his face with a gentle hand, accidentally tracing his jawline with your finger, keeping his gaze just a tad longer than appropriate.

Meanwhile, Kaminari continues shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a pose that would allow him to hide how turned on he is, purposefully avoiding looking down your cleavage or observing how your shorts were riding up your thighs, revealing more plush skin that he wanted to sink his teeth into.

You don’t push too far though, you still had a couple of more days staying at his place, plenty of time to make your plan come to fruition. The movie comes to an end and you both decide to call it a night—you kiss his cheek and thank him again for allowing you to stay over, wishing him a good night and heading over to the guest bedroom where you were staying. His own room was right next door and you begin wondering how thin the walls really are.

Removing your clothes and kicking your panties aside, you make yourself comfortable on the bed and slide your hands down your torso, imagining how much bigger Denki’s would be, warmer than your own, eager.

Your mind conjures images of your step brother losing himself under you as you hover over his face, tongue lapping at your core like a starved man, staring up at you with those intoxicating cat-like amber eyes. Cupping your breast, a low moan escapes your lips as your other hand glides between your legs, humming with approval of how wet you are because of your step brother.

You touch yourself, rolling your nipples between your thumb and index finger, drawing circles on your clit and letting your mind relish in all the taboo things you want to do with Denki, paying less and less attention to the needy sounds bouncing off of the walls, yet hoping that they reach Denki’s ears.

And they do—in the other room Denki has his ear pressed to the wall, already fumbling with the zipper of his pants, his face so red and hot because he knows how wrong this is. You’re his little sister, not by blood, but you were family, and God, you were still incredibly gorgeous and just his type.

He had put so much effort over the years into not being a creep, not watching your ass as you walk away or blatantly staring at your tits. He had learned to be subtle, to be unnoticeable, to steal glances and satisfy himself by just imagining your lips around his cock—just that, nothing more.

But now, having you in his apartment, being surrounded by the scent of your perfume mixed with the coconut-scented shampoo you use—he was losing his mind. You’d been so much more touchy than usual this evening and your hand on his thigh made him feel dirty, so here he was now, listening in on you, knowing full well what you were doing and how incredibly wrong this was, invading your privacy and taking advantage of it, but he couldn’t help it.

Lip tucked between his teeth to keep quiet, he spits onto his palm and spreads his saliva over his cock, slowly fucking into his fist, trying to match your pace he was trying to guess from the cute whines he could hear. He imagined you spreading your pussy for him, beckoning him to take advantage of you, calling him ‘big brother’ in that seductive voice of yours that could drive him mad. Hearing you panting louder, breath uneven and needy, he allows himself to go faster, now picturing himself pushing his cock into your tight little hole, imagining his cum leaking out of you and just like that, faster than he’s ever experienced, he came in his hand shooting thick ropes of cum onto his knuckles and pillow, his heart threatening to leave his chest cavity.

The post-nut clarity hits him and Denki is plagued with shame and guilt, quickly removing his pillowcase and bedsheets and tossing them to the side, replacing the old one with new clean ones while mentally berating himself, feeling disgusted with his own actions.

He no longer hears you moaning in the other room, the sweet sound dying down and feels relieved, shoving his face into the freshly changed pillow and trying not to scream at himself. It felt like he had committed a crime, a sin of some sort, his own guilty conscience not allowing him to get much sleep, forcing Kaminari to toss and turn for the most part of the night, shaking his head as if trying to push away the thoughts of your breasts in his mouth out of his mind by force.

The next day, he seems to be the same, shoulders sagged with guilt, barely managing to look you in the eye during breakfast. Both of you had classes, so you drive to campus together and Denki, happy to have a distraction from his lewd thoughts about his own step sister.

You on the other hand keep your focus on your plan the entire day, not paying attention to a single lecture, forgetting to even eat lunch—completely consumed by your desire to have your step brother snap.

You had it all figured out—with your classes finishing earlier than Kaminari’s, you could head home before him and use the spare key he gave you to prepare for his return. You knew your brother was very curious, not a doubt in your mind that he would seek you out when he got in and you hoped that what he found would be enough to make Denki lose control.

And to no surprise, everything goes exactly according to your vision. You shower and put on some of that pretty lingerie you had brought with you, leaving the door to your room slightly cracked open, whilst entertaining yourself until the target audience for your little performance had returned home.

You’re lying on the bed—face down, ass up when you hear the front door open, the sound making you quiver with excitement, heart beating even faster as his footsteps approach, the fingers playing with your clit speeding up, your arousal dribbling down your thighs in fat droplets

The house was suspiciously quiet, leading Denki to believe you hadn’t gotten back yet. He’d kicked his shoes off to the side, tossing his bag onto the couch before heading towards his room with the intention to shed off his outside clothes and switch into something more comfortable. That didn’t end up being the case. Noticing that the door to your room was ajar, he takes a quick glance through the crack, freezing in his tracks as his sunshine eyes fixate on your drooling cunt, clenching around nothing, your arousal soaked fingers toying with your puffy folds. In this position you can’t see him, so Kaminari basks in the sight for a few moments to enjoy this, to memorize it and engrave the image of your cute cunt into his mind—trying hard to ignore the raging boner in his pants.

Kaminari gulps, feeling as if there’s a massive lump in his throat, right hand absentmindedly adjusting his now hard cock.

“Denks,” your needy voice shocks him out of his trance. “Please...”

His brain short circuits.

Time feels frozen, the noise of the outside world fading into nothing and the sound of his heartbeat ringing in his head deafeningly loud.

His name just left your mouth.

You said his name. You begged for him.

Once more, Kaminari hears his name, watching you arch your back even more, spreading your legs further and sinking down onto the bed while begging for him incoherently.

Denki sits there, motionless, watching his little step sister cumming hard, making a mess on the bed sheets while chanting his name.

For many years, his sanity and patience were tested—like a string tightly pulled back. In this single moment as he watched his step sister shake in the aftermath of her orgasm, that string finally snapped.

He opens the door, slowly at first and then in two short strides he’s behind you, pulling you up by the hair, pressing your back to his chest and breathing hard down your neck.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that little sis?” Inhaling in your scent, the blonde holds you tight against him, tugging on your hair again to force you to look up at the ceiling—knowing he wouldn’t be able to have any self-restraint if he looked into your eyes.

“Moaning my name as you cum? You want your big brother that badly, hm?” His throbbing shaft presses against your ass, still clad in jeans, but you could feel it through the fabric.

You shut your eyes in embarrassment but don’t attempt to escape his grip, the lack of response to his question makes Denki even more impatient.

“Answer.” he growls in your ear.

“Y-Yes,” your voice comes out uneven. “I w-want my stepbrother, please.”

Your eyes stay tightly shut but your body gives your reaction away—shaking with anticipation and excitement, feeling your juices begin to slide between your folds again.

“Didn’t think you were this sick in the head, but who am I to refuse my precious little sister, huh?” You can't see his face but you can hear the sinister smile, feel how thrilled he is by the way his grip on you tightens. Suddenly, Kaminari’s pushing your head back down onto the mattress, crouching down to take a good look at your glistening wet cunt. Your little pleasure nub looks so cute and swollen he can't help himself by giving it an experimental lick, appreciating the way your body tenses. So he does it again and again—paying good attention to your needy bud, kissing and lightly sucking on it, mapping out how you react to each movement.

You drip like sweet honey onto Denki’s tongue, showering him in lustful mewls and needy grinds against his face, tiny fists balling the sheets when he slips his tongue inside your needy hole. He eats you out like a man starving, holding your hips steadily in place. Your big brother loves the way your thighs tremble and your breath is uneven and he is determined to get you to cum on his tongue, he needs it.

And it doesn’t take long for your slick to overflow from your body, the thought alone that your step brother’s chin was shining with your mess was enough to make you melt into a puddle, the taboo aspect of what you were doing pushing you over the edge too quickly.

With a silent cry, you cum hard, pressing yourself against Kaminari’s face, a trickle of drool sliding down your own chin as your eyes roll back from pleasure so intense, your senses become overloaded for a moment that all you see is white.

Before you come back down from your high and your soul returns to its body, Denki has managed to kick aside his jeans and boxers, knees digging into the edge of the mattress and his leaking cock glides between your sticky folds.

For a split second an uneasy feeling captures your heart in an icy grip.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay if it doesn’t go in, right little sis?” the blonde’s voice is thickly coated with smugness, with a sense of toxicity that should be so incredibly off-putting, yet it makes your insides twist with desire.

Two orgasms in, and your head starts to feel fuzzy, the heat emanating from his length rubbing against your slit making you feel like you have one foot off of the edge of insanity. You circle your ass against his dick, desperate and teary-eyed, pleading and chanting his name like it’s a prayer, enjoying the friction of your step brother’s mushroom cockhead against your sensitive clit.

His hands explore the expanse of your body, following the curves and dips of your hips, squeezing the doughy skin on your hips. Denki was greedily taking in every weak sigh you let out and every shudder you respond with, basking in the knowledge that he’s the one making his little sister drip down on his girth, oozing into the sheets and making a mess of them. You feel the heat rising inside you, knots forming in the pit of your stomach, the madness creeping further across your brain with the sound of Denki’s filthy words in your ear. The sound of his dick slipping back and forth on your wet cunt. Everything is so obscene, even the scent of him is working you up more, the knots twisting tighter.

You crave more.

You shouldn’t.

Denki—he’s your step brother there would be so many consequences, so many drawbacks of your current situation.

But consequences be damned, because the vein on the underside of his shaft feels so good against your sensitive clit, so much so that your brain throws all logic and reason out the window.

Denki is nearly as desperate as you are, and he gripes and grunts loudly—so close to release, just from the wetness of your pretty pussy engulfing him. So when you lift your hips up and angle them against the head of his girth, pushing past your entrance with ease—he nearly loses it.

The softness and warmth of your cunt wrapping around his cock makes him feel like his soul is ascending to high heavens, eyes rolling back in his skull and body shaking in ecstasy with every inch of him that you take until he’s fully sheathed in you, balls laying flat against your swollen pleasure nub.

You don’t give him time to prepare, to react even—slamming your hips back against his as quickly as your body can handle, yearning for that the feeling of the tip of his dick reaching deep inside of you and helping the pressure build even faster.

Cock drunk and cross-eyed, absolutely debauched and unashamed, your body forces out another orgasm, causing your muscles to spasm with a string of curses leaving your pretty lips as your soft walls clamp down on the blonde’s dick.

Denki sees stars, the only thought crossing his mind in that moment being that he will never have pussy this good ever again—so snug against him, pulsing violently around his length, selfishly sucking him in deeper. And with that singular thought, your step brother decides to fuck you stupid, make you feel the exact same way he does—like nothing would ever be good enough again.

Snapping out of the trance your perfect pussy has put him in, he props up a leg on the bed, pulling his length out of your heat and marveling at the way your cunt gleams luxuriously with the crude mix of his precum and your erotic juices, clenching and spasming around nothing. You whimper, but before you can clearly state your protest, Kaminari spits on your raw and abused mound, slamming his entire length into you once more, with only a single motion, setting a meteoric pace—spreading your ass cheeks apart so he can fuck into you harder.

Forgetting all his previous misgivings about fucking his little sister, Denki gives into his carnal desire and takes everything he can from you. A thumb now collecting the arousal from between your legs and using it as lubrication to toy with your pert ass, slowly pushing in the digit into you as you become impossibly tighter around him.

“One more time—I need to feel you cum around my cock one more time, sis,” Angling his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust, Denki practically makes you scream out his name, the blistering heat of his cockhead kissing your cervix repeatedly, leaving your brain absolutely scrambled.

You don’t even think it’s possible for you to cum again, but the telltale signs of your impending orgasm are there. However, it feels different this time, as if there’s some sort of pressure bubbling up inside you—like a volcano ready to erupt. A string of pleas leave your wet lips, not really knowing what you’re begging for but Denki understands—maintaining the same angle and rhythm, he sneaks a hand around your torso to rub gentle circles over your puffy clit, the action pushing you over the edge.

With a loud cry, you tense up around him so hard that he has to pull out, clear liquid gushing from your aching cunt as you squirt onto the bed and taint Kaminari’s golden skin, body shaking violently with tears streaming down your face until you’re overwhelmed by the feeling. The view of your pussy gushing and squirting is so enticing, but Denki is too greedy to allow you time to calm down, grabbing your hips and propping you up, lining his tip with your sopping entrance again and drilling into you at a ravenous pace.

You’re too sensitive, too sore, even—but he holds you firm against his chest, a hand around your throat, slightly restricting your breathing and keeping you from protesting while the blonde chases down his own release.

“ ‘m not fucking pulling out,” he growls into the shell of your ear, a cruel smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Kaminari’s words make you clamp down greedily on him, body instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s worth.

A couple more ruthless thrusts of his cock deep into your abused little pussy and he’s thrown over the edge, balls tightening and thick cum spilling deep into your womb—there’s so much of it, too much, to the point where it’s leaking out of your hole before he’s even pulled out. Your insides are burning hot with his seed and you can’t even be bothered to remind yourself if you’re on birth control or not, too fucked out to be able to conjure up a coherent thought.

Slowly pulling away, the tall blonde stares at your pink puffy pussy, thick cum oozing out in globs and dripping down your thighs—he collects the sticky substance with two fingers and promptly pushes the digits past your soft lips.

“Nasty little step sister, if I had known you were this slutty and desperate, I wouldn’t have spent countless nights fucking my fist—I would’ve fucked this pretty pussy of yours instead.” He taps the two digits that were in your mouth against your clit and your body jolts.

He moves away from the bed, grabbing something from your desk that you can’t see, still trying to collect yourself. Before you even had the chance to ask what it was, your step brother shows you his phone, the screen showing you a replay of what had just happened minutes before—a video of Denki fucking into you with no sound.

“Y-You recorded that?” the panic sobers you up as you quickly rise from the bed and try to take the phone from him.

But Kaminari’s much faster.

“Of course.” The corners of his lips turn upwards but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His body language shifts as he leans down, eyes raking over your naked, soiled body, a cool and foreboding aura seeping into the room, sneaking up on you. “Leverage, step sis.”

The words feel icy, goosebumps rising on your skin—with you barely recognizing the amber eyes looking down at you.

It was twisted, it was wrong, but one way or another—Denki Kaminari will keep you all to himself.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

#unholytext.exe #denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #stepbrother!denki kaminari x reader #stepbrother denki #denki kaminari smut #denki smut #kaminari smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.stepcest #tw.dubcon #tw.voyeurism #tw.spit #tw.blackmail #tw.overstimulation #tw.breeding #tw.recording

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gibson-g1rl · 1 year

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I’m Never Leaving

daryl dixon x fem reader

warnings: just a bit angsty, usual TWD violence and fluff!

summary: you and daryl both realize just how much you love each other after you have a near death experience.

a/n: set in season 11 & let’s just pretend that Daryl knew beforehand about Carols deal with Pamela to pin all the blame on Hornsby.

flashback

“Jesus Daryl, go talk to her.”

“What?”

“You’re starin’ at her like a teenage boy who just saw his first pair of boobies; just go talk to her, she likes you too ya know?” Carol chimed as she looked towards her best friend.

“You don’t know tha.” Daryl said as he looked at you, catching you smiling as you spoke to Judith.

God you were beautiful to him. He loved everything about you, your smile, your hair, your kind heart.

Truth was, Daryl had no clue how to communicate his feelings towards you, so instead he just kept them to himself and admired you from afar.

“Hey you two.” You suddenly spoke out, causing Daryl to snap back to reality. Carol pulled you into a tight hug, whispering something into your ear which caused you to laugh. You pulled away from her and wrapped your arms around Daryl, causing his cheeks to grow warm.

You were about to speak up but were quickly pulled away from Carol and Daryl by Gracie and Judith.

“I’ll come find ya later okay?” You shouted as you were pulled further and further away.

“Yeah!” Daryl replied, turning to Carol as soon as you were out of earshot.

“What did ya whisper to her?”

“I dunno.” Carol said smiling as she saw her best friend’s face turn red, quickly rushing away before he could question her further.

end of flashback

“Leah I swear to God if there is so much as a scratch on her, I’ll kill ya.” Daryl grunted into the walkie-talkie, rage filling his body as he heard Leah laugh.

“Too late for that.” She said before turning it off.

Leah had been watching you lot for a bit before she decided to attack, she figured since you and Maggie were so close she’d use you to lure Maggie out.

So there you were, tied to a chair in some rusty old cabin, Leah twisting her knife further into your leg, causing you to scream out.

“Where is Maggie hiding?!”

“Even if I knew where, which I don’t, I wouldn’t tell you shit.” You spat as you looked up at her.

“Wrong answer.” She said before pulling the knife out and pushing it back in. You screamed out in pain as she did this, your leg throbbing as well as your head from where she hit you earlier.

“I’ll ask you one more time, where the hell is Maggie hiding?”

“FUCK YOU!” You screamed. You could see the anger flooding into her eyes, now you pissed her off.

Her fist connected with your jaw, causing your head to fall back. You stayed still for a while because unbeknownst to Leah, you had been working the knot on the rope she used to tie your hands, and it was almost loose.

Just before she could punch you again, your hands were free and you were lunging towards her. You fist jammed into her jaw causing her to stumble. You grabbed ahold of her head and slammed her against the wall. She fell against the wall, giving you time to gain your strength back. Before you knew it she had managed to get up and lunge a shard of glass into your abdomen.

Your body fell back at the force, her body on top of yours once again. Her hands made their way around your neck, crushing your windpipe.

“Since you’re not helping me, you’re of no use to me.” She whispered out as her hands wrapped tighter around your throat.

You could feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness, your vision going hazy.

You felt the little air leaving your lungs, your body wanted so badly to give up but you knew you couldn’t let Leah find Maggie or worse, find Hershel.

So you used the little strength you had left and ripped the knife out from your thigh and jammed it into her neck. Her eyes widened as blood seeped from the wound, her hands let up from around your throat as she moved them to her neck, causing you to take a deep breath in. You kicked her body to the side and jammed the knife into her throat again,

and again

and again.

You could hear her choking on her own blood as her limp body lie to the side. You quickly moved towards her and pressed the knife into her skull.

Your body fell back, your energy drained and your mind fuzzy as you passed out.

Daryl held his gun up as he neared the cabin, his heart racing as he stepped inside. His eyes fell on Leah’s lifeless body, eyeing the knife in her skull. He then moved his gaze until it landed on your limp body.

Panic rushed through his body as he crouched beside you, tears pooling in his eyes as he shook your body, trying to get you to wake up.

“C’mon you gotta wake up f’ me, please!” He yelled out, his arms wrapping around your frame as he lifted you up.

Maggie, Aaron and Gabriel’s eyes fell on your body as Daryl carried you out, Maggie’s face going pale as her hand went up to her mouth to quiet her cries.

“We needa get her to the Commonwealth now!” He yelled out as he moved past them.

He had already lost so much he couldn’t lose you too.

Daryl clung to your fragile figure as he carried you inside the Commonwealth, rushing towards the hospital.

Tomi moved towards you and Daryl, trying to asses your wounds as he placed you down on a hospital bed.

Daryl placed a kiss onto your forehead before Tomi and some nurses took you, immediately rushing you into an operating room.

Daryl sat back, his head in his hands as he ran through every memory he had with you, tears cascading down his face as he thought about losing you.

He was quickly pulled from his thoughts by Carol and a few others approaching.

“She’s going to be okay Daryl.” Carol whispered as she wrapped her arms around him, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.

It felt like forever before Tomi came back, nodding to Daryl to allow him to go see you. He rushed towards your room and a breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were okay.

He brought a chair next to your bed and sat down, taking your hand in his and squeezing it.

“I love you so much.” He whispered out, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a kiss to the back of your palm.

The blind lights of the hospital room hurt your eyes as you woke up, your throat and mouth dry as you tried to swallow.

Your eyes adjusted to the light as you scanned the room, your gaze falling on a certain someone asleep in a chair next to your bed.

You smiled as you looked at Daryl, his perfect long hair covering his face as he slept. You were oh so in love with him and almost dying made you realize that even more.

You adjusted yourself in the bed, sitting up as you reached for the plastic cup on the bedside table. You winced in pain as you twisted your body, reaching out for the cup. Your fingers grazed the cup ever so slightly and you almost had it but it slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor.

“Shit.” You whispered out as you sat back against the pillows, a defeated sigh leaving your lips.

The sound of the cup falling caused Daryl to open his eyes, rubbing them as he adjusted to the lights.

You noticed him move in the chair and groaned to yourself as you woke him up from hismuch needed sleep.

“Sorry for waking you up.” You spoke out causing Daryl’s eyes to widen. He rushed up to stand close to you looking down at you and smiling.

“You’re awake.” He said out, reaching out for your hand.

Your fingers intertwined with his, smiling up as he placed a kiss against your forehead.

“I thought I- I thought I lost y-”

You quickly shushed him as you brought his face down to yours and placed your lips against his. Daryl was taken aback by your action but nonetheless kissed you back. His mouth moved against yours before you pulled away out of breath.

“You didn’t lose me okay? I’m not leaving you any time soon old man.” You said, causing Daryl to let out a laugh.

He leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips, whispering a faint “I love you” against your lips. You kissed him back, your lips moulding against his lips almost as if they were made to fit his, before whispering, “I love you too.”

my first daryl fic go easy on me 😣

let me know if anyone wants to be added to a tag-list for daryl fics specifically or to a tag-list for the TWD men in general :)

please like and reblog if you enjoyed as it helps a lot 🩷

#daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fluff #twd daryl #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #maggie rhee #aaron twd #twd gabriel #carol peletier #norman reedus fluff #norman reedus #daryl dixon angst

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purityonice · 7 months

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🩷💎 Floyd x Reader 💎🩷

Disclaimer: I wrote this at 3am sorry if its bad. ALSO PART 2 LATER

Your eyes met while on the first show of the tour, you were in the crowd eyes filled with admiration as he sang. His world stopped seeming as it was just you two in this huge concert hall. A spotlight on you as he began putting %110 into his preformance.

He felt his heart flutter everytime you fanned over him. Especially when it was just his solo preformances. [Which also unconsciously contributed to the downfall of their perfect family harmony.]

After everything went down hill due to John dory’s ignorance. He tried to grab onto the vine to prevent himself from falling off the stage missing it by a hair and falling into the crowd. Landing on top of you winding both of you in the process.

Feeling the soft body underneath him gasp for air as he scrambled off of the poor fan. His heart skipping a beat when he realised WHO he has landed on. His face heating up as he felt himself getting the preshow jitters.

Wiping his sweaty palms off as he extended a helping hand out towards you as you gaped in shock.

Like was this really happening right now?! your idol was really infront of you let alone OFFERING YOU TO TOUCH HIM!? GASP!!

Your mouth ran dry as you took his hand into yours pulling youself up as he apologised profusely as jealous fans watched from afar. Security came and took him away before you could even tell him that it was no big deal. He looked back at you as he was taken away lipping once more i’m sorry before being lead backstage.

You felt empty as everyone was asked to leave early dragging your feet behind you. As you were waiting outside for your ride you you were stopped by security as they told you to follow them. Not wanting to get in trouble you decided to go with them without any complications.

As you walked you notived that you were being taken backstage. Feeling excitement bubble inside of you at the thought of seeing Floyd and the rest of the BroZone gang ONE ON ONE. Skipping inside of the entrance as they stayed outside.

Seeing the familiar pink haired troll pacing nervously until he saw you. His eyes lighting up as he walked towards you asking if you were okay.

You reassured him that you were alright he sighed in relief.

“I- I’m sorry my brothers aren’t here… they’re just letting off some steam right now.” He sighed out looking up at you his face flushing as a dopey smile was plastered on your face.

“It’s alright! I’m just so happy I get to see you again Floyd!” You beamed as he softly smiled as he watched you fan over him. “So you were the one who asked me to come back stage?” You asked tilting your head as he nodded.

“Yeah I just feel really bad about the concert ending early AND you know…winding you.” He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck. “I can make it up to you?” He muttered looking into your eyes as you blushed.

“I-I no Floyd it’s okay everythings fine! I don’t mind it’s more of an honor!” You blerted out waving your hands in front of you. But Floyd moved closer.

“N-no I insist! its the least I could do It’s my treat.” Floyd spoke grabbing your hands and pulling you closer.

“ohmygodisthisreallyhappeningohmygod” You thought out loud causing Floyd to laugh. A blush spreading across your face unable to conjoin words so you just nodded. Floyd felt a smile grow on his face as he zoomed to his dresser grabbing a peice of paper and writing something down and zooming right back grabbing your hand gently and placing it into the palm of your hand.

“This is my number text me when you get home okay? I’ll plan something for us to do.” He looked into your eyes feeling himself heat up at the situation.

“YESOKAYTHANKYOUFLOYDOHMYGODILLDEFBETEXTINGYOULATER” You practically screamed out holding his number close to your chest looking at the time and feeling upset.

“You gotta go now huh?” You nodded disappointed exchanging goodbyes before walking out the door, before turning around and rushing over and giving him a hug before you left. Rushing out of the door and yelling a good bye as sqeals and giggles could be heard fading away into the distance.

Floyd shook his head as he let out a low chuckle and grabbing his phone after hearing a notification.

“Hey Floyd I know you said when I get home BUT I couldn’t wait so HI!!!”

Smiling to himself before responding quickly tapping away at his screen as he heard his brothers come back still arguing about what happened during the preformance.

#floyd trolls #floyd x reader #i love floyd #trolls band together #trolls #floyd #trolls 3 #IM SORRY IF ITS BAD IT WAS 3 AM AND I COULDNT SLEEP UNLESS I POSTED SOMETHING

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enluv · 7 months

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(almost) six missed chances.

pairing: park jongseong x mentioned fem!reader

wc: 796

synopsis: in which jay can count all the missed chances he’s had with you on one hand, until he can’t.

genre: volleyball player!jay, pure fluff, light teasing (menace heeseung), and a lovesick jay!!

one evening he watches as you sit two tables infront of from him, chatting excitedly with your friend about your weekend plans. jay thinks he’d like to go out with you for the weekend too, only if you’d let him, but the professor starts class before he can think to ask.

“maybe if you asked instead of staring at her all class, she’d agree to go out with you.” his friend playfully chastises as he watches jay’s eyes never leave your form.

“shut up.” he mumbles back, quickly averting his gaze away onto his book.

two small waves are sent his way, and he feels like he’s seeing things. did he really see that right? had you seriously waved at him? him? as he himself? jay park? you knew he existed? his smile beams.

“dude why didn’t you wave back? that was so awkward! I had to do it for you! are you seriously that in love that you can’t even fathom waving back to her?” heeseung scoffs, pulling at his friends arm to guide him through the sea of students getting out of class.

it’s in that moment jay realizes, he didn’t wave back.

three times he’s seen you here now, it could be a coincidence but heeseung swears you’ve never come in before. he taunts that you’ve only started coming since jay started, and his heart races at the thought.

“you’re like a lovesick puppy, an idiot really!” heeseung scolds watching his friend shamelessly admire you from afar.

“she looks really pretty today, brown is pretty on her.” he mumbles mostly to himself, moving around useless items on the counter.

“you’re sick!” heeseung yells as he swats jay away to finish taking orders.

four boys sit at a table complaining about their classes, volleyball season is among them and their schedules are tight, fitting in time with one another outside of practice is hard, lunches are sacred. a jab to his side brings him out of his endless thoughts.

“are you tired or something? you haven’t said a word to us since we sat down,” asks one of his friends.

“maybe that spike to the head really got him, do you need to see the team medic or something?” dotes another.

“he isn’t hurt idiots, he’s just in love. he does this in class too, stares at the wall imagining it’s his girlfriend,” heeseung points out, rolling his eyes at jay’s behavior, he’d witnessed it so many times before.

“she’s not my girlfriend!”

“but you want her to be!”

“please ask her out soon, I’m tired of you drooling over her in class, seriously dude all you can see is the back of her head, what’s so pretty about that?”

“everything about her is pretty…” he trails off, once again daydreaming.

five whistles blow to signal the stop of practice, jay huffs in annoyance. right before the whistle he was sure he would land his serve. the same one he’d been working to perfect since the season started.

“i have an announcement boys, you’ve whined to me so much about getting ya’ a team manager so I finally did it! don’t say I never do anything for you all cause I did this so don’t ask for nothin’ else!” the boys look between one another, some in confusion, others in excitement.

he’s sure his eyes are playing tricks on him, cheeks flushed bright red from practice and now as he watches you walk in, this has to be a some kind of sweet sick mirage.

“this is your new team manager brats, be nice to her or I’ll keep you on the sidelines, I mean it! if she quits because yer messin’ with her I’ll spike a ball to yer head,” his playful threat falls flat on the ears of the team, they all stare in awe at their newest team manager.

“looks like you might have some competitionnnnn,” heeseung sings as he walks past jay, shaking his head at his friend who is still staring in disbelief.

“fuck no.”

six boys, one coach, and a number of others watch him as he strides across the gym, the confidence oozing from his stature quickly diminishing as he stops right in front of you.

“i think you’re really pretty, and smart, and so fucking funny, it’s been killing me ever since I first saw you, you’re all I think about, day and night! and I know you don’t know me but you could get to know me, if you go out with me on a date!” he’s stumbling the words out, no amount of practice sessions in his bathroom mirror had prepared him for this moment, it’s all too surreal.

“oh finally,” his eyes widen in confusion at your words, “i thought you’d never ask.”

coco’s love note: firstly, thank you @malarign for reading it over for me hehe I love you bae!! 🤍 and secondly, this is my first post in a while and on top of that I’m currently stuck with a cold so please show it some love if you enjoy it 🥺 feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3

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