#[not sure if you wanted a thread out of this or not but here ya go]

[multeasers]

@bearratic // continued from here

Honestly, if Megs really had wanted him gone, Toji’d have been up and outta the room in a heartbeat.

Because he knows a bit more about his own child than popular belief likes to dictate, though, Toji never once moves from his spot beside’im; when his eyes had been closed, Toji’d been looking at him, but he flicks his gaze up and away as Megs speaks again.

‘No. I don’t wanna be alone.’

Totally fine; said and done as easy as anything, really, since he can handle just sitting around. Even though he still feels like he’s intruding on something—he can tell his kid ain’t doing well, that something is on his mind—and he can sense that that something is very particular, even he knows when to stick around. He’s always been one for early independence (maybe a little too early; he has his regrets, another thing that goes against popular belief), but he likes to think he’s gotten better at realizing when he needs to be here, too.

‘Tell me about how you met mom.’

...but he certainly knows how to hit hard enough that it about makes Toji think he maybe should have left (if only to grab some tissues...); still, despite that, he still keeps himself sat. He can’t help the way he softens, though, around the edges at the request; he can never help it, when she gets brought up.

He is curious, too, though, so he asks; “...what makes you ask about her?”

Much like how his entire body language gentled, so did his voice—at least in comparison to how it normally sounds, anyway (again, something he just can’t help, so nobody oughtta go thinkin’ too hard about it). But his interest is piqued enough to ask at all because while it isn’t all that often Megs asks after his mother directly, he’s been doing it much more often here recently. Toji could never mind that, of course—kids’re gonna ask after their parents up until they learn they can’t, after all—but he’s definitely...

(Worried. He’s worried. Megs, are you...?)

...just curious.

“Like I’ve said before, though, we met on the street.” Leaning forward, a little, and onto his knees, Toji looks away again; not up towards the ceiling, this time, but just away. He has to, or he thinks he might get a little too emotional (and not that Megs can’t see that, but, it’s just...he can’t; he won’t let’im).

“She was walking one way, and I was walkin’ another. She’d caught my eye already, but I didn’t approach’er—not really the type’a guy to go doin’ that myself, looking how I do.” And especially with what he was doing, back then.

“She always said that she just had to talk to me, though, so she stopped me herself; after that, we just...”

He chuckles, then, the sound hollow and sad and just this side of warm all at once. He can never help it, talking about his first wife like this—it’s painful, it’s sweet, it’s memory—but this, at least, he never tries to hide. He never has the strength to try.

“Well, we just got to talking. And, yanno, talkin’ turned to dates... Dates turned to moving in together. It was...nice.”

Yeah, right, like that’s all it was. But he’s never been a wordy guy when it matters the most—one of his failings, one of many.

“...I love her, too, even now.” He has no trouble admitting this, though, which is in itself both another failing and a grandiose (Gods, who the hell am I?) thing; a failing because he rarely tells his own children that he does the same for them, but grandiose because he can say it at all for anyone. Somehow, for her, it just comes easier—for both of his wives, it always has, but somehow never their children...

Still. He just hopes Megs knows, somewhere; as long as he does, then it means he didn’t fuck things up entirely with this whole parent thing.

“But, anyway; dunno if that’s what you were lookin’ for entirely, but that’s about the end of it.” Like all the other times he’s said it, but it isn’t a tiring topic; maybe just a little draining, but it’s worth it all the same. “Probably not all that exciting, but she was always a calmer personality, anyhow.”

With that conclusion, though, he finally returns his gaze to Megumi, an eyebrow rising. Whatever is going on, he can’t ignore it forever; shouldn’t, and wouldn’t, this time.

“There something you need off your chest,” he starts, “or was—was that enough?”

(Feelings are awkward, but he tries. Wants to try, when he can. And, today, he’s definitely trying to try.)

[goldenstring6123]

a quickie request LISTEN LISTEN HEAR ME OUT…… sylus fingering reader so so so hard and fast with his long ass fingers and you’re arching up in pleasure and he’s breathing into your mouth, hard against your thigh….. 🌚 (sometimes my own thoughts remind me i have no shame 🙏)

Sylus: Putting you to sleep

Warning: 2.3k word Smut, 18+ only! MDNI, AFAB!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, Fingering, Nipple play, slight begging, quickies (?)

Author's note: hehe, this ain't a full blown sex yet but here ya go!

"How long do you plan on staring, sweetie?" the tall silver-haired man lowered his balled fists to his hips, promptly turning towards your figure, which leaned by the doorpost. You dawned on messy hair, a tight black undershirt, and night shorts. It took him no less than a second to piece that you just woke up.

"Couldn't sleep." You stated.

Sylus shifted his weight to the other leg. "Would you like me to do something about it?" sincerely, he offered, yet his ruby red eyes flickering with roguish intent.

"Is there anything you can do?" You can't help but ask. With Sylus offering to aid your sleepless fatigue a million thoughts raced through your mind. He could knock you out to sleep, or maybe he'll ask you to spar with him. Whatever it was, you were ready to turn him down.

"Of course. What kind of lover would I be?" He took his sweet time undoing his wrist wrap; meanwhile, you took your sweet and ample time to approach the boxing ring. Everything else was by far dim apart from that platform.

It was silent. Any sound echoed in the combat room, reverberating against the metal posts and cement walls. It was 2 am, and not a single soul was in sight. You weren't sure if you were scared that you were both alone or at peace because Sylus was with you.

He took off his black undershirt and threw it aside shortly after; he hopped down with a large thud and stood before you, his broad figure looming ominously.

"Sylus?" you called. He moved his hand and flicked his fingers behind you. The only source of light that made you see is now gone. A few seconds more, as you feel Sylus' hands slither around your exposed waist, a silver moonlight peering through the windows turning red.

You wanted to say something, but you dared not do it.

His touch was warm as it dragged against your skin, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. Soon enough, another hand landed on your body and thighs, gliding like paper. Softly, Sylus' fingers traversed the top of your thighs, sliding lower and lower until he grasped the underside of your thigh.

Sylus yanked you closer, your thigh upwards. A muffled gasp erupted from your lips the moment your chest pressed against his torso. The heat that emanated from his body made yours tingle, yet to the touch, it was wet and slippery from the sweat of his workout.

"You're unusually quiet," He whispered against your ear. His teeth nibbled the lobe of your ears. A shiver traveled down your spine, sensitivity only then being realized. You didn't want to reply. You were on a thin thread between tiredness and lasciviousness; you no longer had the energy to deal with other feelings.

Once in a while, it was all right to let Sylus take the lead.

He grinded his body against yours, rubbing every surface of your body. The thin strap of your undershirt falls down to your shoulder as if taunting your partner to pull it off further. Sylus could feel your breasts against his abdomen. Supple and soft, your nipples slowly work themselves against the cloth.

You heard shifting from around you, and you could hear the clothes and cushions gather near your footing. Sylus buried his nose in the crook of your neck, placing a wet kiss near your collarbone. He pushed you back, and you fell onto the soft mattress and fabric. Sylus knelt in between your parted legs, one hand on your knee and one on the side near your waist.

Your chest heaved up and down, cleavage well exposed as your undershirt became more and more rumpled against your body. Your stomach was exposed, and your shorts were rendered practically useless with how you felt, as if you had nothing on. You couldn't help but blame it on your lover as well, his glowing eyes staring at every crevice of your body as he methodically planned on how to devour you.

Sylus didn't want to waste any more time. He took advantage of your parted lips and crashed it against his own. His tongue asked no permission and entered your mouth, the sluggish muscle probing, prodding against your tongue. He tasted like wine. You were intoxicated. He needed to explore you again. As if it was his first time. Grunts escaped his mouth, reverberating as he savored the taste of you.

Your chest burned. It yearned for air, yet the depraving sensation sent your body on edge, sending pulses to your very core. You let out moans as Sylus parted his lips from yours. His hands were back to where it was: on your body. Teasingly, his long fingers slid under the stretchy cloth of your cloth.

He was taking his sweet time. But you were impatient.

You hurriedly lifted your undershirt over your chest, the chilly yet dry air finally blowing on your breasts. You grabbed your lover's big hand and guided it to your left breast, the thing fitting in his grasp all too well. You could see him smile even in the dark. "Don't tease," you demanded.

His hands began to work, to knead. Sylus basked at the feeling of your lithe tits. He brought his mouth lower and lower through the sloppy and wet kisses, from your collarbone to your cleavage, and in one second, he suckled on your breast.

"haah…" You let out, arching your back at the electrifying cold of his tongue against your perked nipple. His tongue flicked up and down, threading lightly on your sensitive tip before sucking. That was enough to make you elicit another moan.

His spare hand traveled lower and lower, this time slipping underneath the garter of your shorts. He used his EVOL again, and the piece of apparel slipped off in one swift motion, leaving you in your underwear.

Two fingers danced on top of your lingerie, circling your pelvis before languidly trailing lower, just above your clit. "Hng…" you could feel the finger brush past it, pressing your entrance lightly through the cloth. "Why do you…Ah—" He flicked at your clit and nibbled at your nipple. "—Keep on teasing?"

He hummed, offering no form of response. His two fingers finally showed some generosity, fully pushing against your clit while ever so slightly rubbing left and right. Your muscles tensed every time he rubbed; you couldn't help but puff out your chest as well, feeding it onto his mouth more.

The rubbing turned circular, fast, rushed, meant to make you nearly scream from the electrical bolts of pressure that traversed from your pussy, down to your legs, up to your breasts, and to your neck. You were trying your best to keep still, but with Sylus playing with you, it seemed like a farfetched goal. "Ah…Mhn!" He pulled his finger away and tore off the last remaining cloth that covered your lower parts.

You felt his fingers glide up and down the inside of your folds, brushing lightly on your entrance while also hitting your clit. He was doing it lightly to slather your own slick across your cunt and let a thick coat of slimy translucent liquid form a thin sheet over it.

You twitched at every sensation— Sylus had always been good with his hands. Be it with a weapon or with you. His long fingers can make you heed his command; at times like these, you let yourself submit. Then, without warning, Sylus slipped his middle finger in your hole, burying it until his knuckles touched your entrance.

"AH?!" Long. His fingers were fucking long!

In some sort of way, when he pierced inside you, it rubbed your g spot, which made you arch your back once more. The finger inside you curled up, pressing against that overly tender and hot walls of flesh that hugged it tightly. Your lover was generous enough to start with shallow thrusts. Yet, you could still hear the crude, squelching noises. As a few seconds pass, his light, shallow thrusts become more and more aggressive, pulling in and out, stretching the ring of your entrance.

Mewls and moans escaped your throat no matter how hard you tried to swallow it in. It did not help that the sounds you were making echoed around the training room, making you hear how you sounded.

Another finger slipped in, and that's when you felt the stretch. Sylus' finger moved in sync, hooking onto that one sport that made you tremble. He scissored his fingers and opened them wide, stretching you out too. The palm of his hand slaps against your skin, imitating a weak slapping sound, yet with it comes the squelch of your juices, overflowing out of your womanhood and trickling down to the mattress.

You gripped the cloth and cushion, hoping it could anchor you down, and it did its job somehow. Waves of pleasure overcame you as he continued to thrust, occasionally rubbing your clit with his thumb. You twisted and turned, even threatening to close your thighs at the sheer pleasure, but Sylus wouldn't let you.

He kissed you in between actions, muffling out your cries and slipping in his tongue without consideration. You were on the verge of your own sanity, the only sensation left being the quick pooling of pleasure at the bottom of your stomach. You were nowhere near your climax when he pulled out of you quickly.

"No! Sylus!" You cried, pushing yourself up to look at him. Under the red light, you saw him move his hand again, and you were suddenly enveloped by the dark mist of his evil, pulling you up and settling you on Sylus's lap.

You rested your arms on his broad shoulders, placing your weight on your knees, which were spread to his side. Slowly, the discharge in your pussy began to trickle down your thigh as nothing was plugging it up.

"Sylus—fingers." You demanded, biting his ear. He happily obliged with your requests, and soon enough, three fingers were pumping up your hole. His movements were erratic, switching between shallow and deep thrusts while simultaneously applying pressure on the tip of his fingers against your G-spot.

Your body twitched, and your eyes watered. To hide your scandalous moans, you kissed Sylus over and over again, him breathing into your mouth as you cried out his name. You could feel his Cock tight against his boxing shorts, yet you didn't want to take it out.

You were more than sure that you couldn't take it. With the state of your body and what your lover was doing to you, you were going to pass out the moment you hit your peak.

Sylus wasn't slowing down. Rougher and rougher, his hands worked with a rigorous desire to help you come. His whole hand was slathered with your juices, his ears filled with your delightful moans, which you failed to hide. His mouth sucked on your breasts, and his nose savored the raw scent of your body. Sylus never gets enough of these, and as much as he would've wanted to pound into it, he was too entranced by the moment.

The tips of your fingers began to heat up, your muscles turning tense as a cold sweat scattered through the back of your neck. Hurriedly, the pleasure pooled in your stomach overwhelmed you, filling you up and churning your core, "Sylus…" You called, almost begging. "I'm close….Mhng!" You throw your head forward, your mouth against his ear, as you no longer hold back your cries of pleasure.

"Ah! Ahnm! Hnng!" You let out.

You felt his thumb rub your clit again, and you bucked your hips forward, his fingers ramming your beloved spot roughly, repeatedly, torturously. You feel yourself well up, the heat in your stomach growing larger and larger the more Sylus rubs your clit. "Sylus…Sylus, Please, Sylus— I'm almost there!" You grabbed onto his hair for dear life, yanking it back before sloppily kissing him.

An electrifying ripple bloomed out from your pussy, making your lower region jolt at his continuous movements. You throw your head back and let out a scream laced with pleasure and desire— You can only see white as your insides throb, clutching onto the fingers that made you feel full.

God, that felt fucking amazing.

As you savored the high of your orgasm, Sylus looked up at you as he pressed his own face against your breast, marveling at the sight of you reaching your peak, reveling the loud and unconcealable thumps of your chest. He kissed your breasts and then your heart, slowly supporting your weight as you come down from your high.

He laid you down on the mattress ever so gently, brushing the sweat-riddled hair that stuck onto your face. Your eyes can't help but flutter shut, still savoring the last remnants of your orgasm. Tiredness washed over your body like the sea crashing onto the shoreline; with it, it brought relaxation and ease.

"Thank you," you whisper as you finally fall asleep.

Using his EVOL for the last time, Sylus gathered the clothes scattered around you and chucked them with his own. His towel from the wooden benches floated, promptly spreading and covering your exposed body. He picked you up, disregarding his own stiff manhood tucked in his pants.

He can deal with that later. For now, he should bring you back to your room and clean you up. The last thing he wants is for you to get sick.

Of course, Sylus didn't do this for free. He never does anything for free. You'd be a fool if you think he did.

Whether you know it or not, he'll make you compensate, and just your luck: he's getting up early tomorrow and more than eager to hear your cries again in the morning.

Author footnotes: With the amount of Sylus smut that I read, I wanted to write him without speaking much, y'know? just focusing on you and not coming up with witty replies to every word you say.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune & me!

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Tongue Tied✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: This just came out of nowhere when I was eating cherries, so here we are 😂 I was going to post this one later, but it was just sitting in my drafts.

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller, finds you in the kitchen eating some cherries. For your birthday, he gives you something that’ll make you a little tongue tied.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: Smut, flirting, teasing, eating cherries, age gap (reader is 24, Joel is 51), oral receiving (fem), fingering, dirty talk, sneaking around, switching POVs

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The air is warm as the summer breeze blows through the open window of the lit up kitchen. After a night of celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday, your parents decided to throw you a surprise barbecue. A few of your friends came, a couple of the neighbors meandered around the backyard, but one certain person was here that set your core on fire. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, his favorite fishing buddy. 

   Joel was hot, like extremely hot. And not to mention he was fifty-one. Twice your age and off limits, but that made it that much more fun to tease him. 

   He’s in his signature blue flannel shirt today, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose strong arms and tanned skin, large veins threading down his forearms, and large meaty hands that could probably split you in two. His dark jeans hug his strong thighs, and his tousled grey speckled hair is slicked back just begging to be played with. 

   You can’t lie that you dream about him at night, can’t pretend you don’t imagine your fingers are his own that slip inside your dripping core and talk you through your orgasm. Attagirl. Say my name. Yeah, jus’ like that, sweetheart. Such a good fuckin’ girl.

   You bet he’s the best kisser, bet his tongue can take you to places that your fingers never could. You imagine his dark smoldering eyes all blown out and wide, his grey threaded beard tickling against your neckline while his tongue slides against your glistening skin. It’s only a dream, a fantasy your mind has conjured up to fill some void. But you’re determined to win him over one way or another. He will be yours.

   And it’s not like he’s completely innocent. You’ve seen him catch your eye once or twice, have caught him checking you out when you wore that pink bikini to the pool a few weeks ago. He can pretend all he wants, but the man fantasizes about you, too. 

   You sigh and pick another cherry from the big bowl sitting on the ceramic kitchen counter, popping it into your mouth as the sweet flavor slides down your throat. You lean against the counter and pull your short yellow dress down, the material barely grazing your tanned thighs. 

   You pop another cherry into your mouth and enjoy the quiet kitchen, taking just a few moments to pull yourself together until you have to go back outside. You’re sure they’re looking for you, but you had to get away from the heat of Joel’s smoldering stare. 

   Another minute goes by until you hear boots scuffing against the tiled floor. When you look up from under your long lashes, you freeze in place and gulp down the cherry that almost gets stuck in your throat. There he is, Joel Miller. Just standing and leaning against the doorway, brown eyes locked on yours. 

   “What’re you doin’ in here? Your dad’s lookin’ for ya out in the back,” Joel says across the kitchen.

   “Couldn’t come get me himself so he sent you instead? What a good friend you are.” You roll your eyes, one eyebrow raising in question while you see him scoff under his breath. 

   “Don’t be a brat. He’s busy makin’ burgers. Jus’ asked if I could come find ya.”

   “Well, you found me.” You lean into the counter and pick out another plump cherry. 

   “C’mon then. Get out there.” He nods his head towards the backyard and crosses his large arms over his broad chest. 

   “Can’t you see I’m busy?” You pop the cherry into your mouth and twirl the stem in between your fingers, keeping your eyes locked carefully on his. 

   He huffs out annoyed, pinching the bridge of his nose  while he makes his way across the kitchen, stopping on the opposite side of the counter as he leans against it and keeps his arms tight across his chest. “Yeah, real busy over there. Those cherries must be real good if they’ve got you locked in the kitchen.” His eyes flick to the glass bowl as you plop another one out from the batch. 

   “Sooo good.” You take your tongue and lick up the side of the cherry, pushing it into your mouth as you throw the stem on the edge of the counter. 

   He watches you chew, gulping down saliva as he focuses in on your red glossy lips. He thinks you look so gorgeous in your little yellow sundress, thinks your lips might taste just like those cherries. Savory, sweet, delicious. A thought that’s crossed his mind more than once before.

   He shouldn’t be in here alone with you, shouldn’t even stare while you lick your plush lips and devour the fresh cherries all seductively in front of him. He can picture you down on your knees, your tongue gliding over the tip of his throbbing cock, his fingers fisting the back of your hair while he fucks your pretty little mouth with his thick cock. He wants to hear those melodic moans out of your mouth, needs to get his mouth on your pretty pink pussy, would love to throw you on top of his bed sheets while he fucks you till he fills you with hot ropes of cum. 

   He’s a bad man for thinking of his best friend’s daughter like that, but he can’t help wanting something he can’t technically have. You’re off limits to him and so much younger, but he doesn’t give a shit. 

   He sees the way you’ve been teasing him. Walking around in those short skirts that barely cover your curvy ass and brushing your fingertips against his arms with every chance you get. He’s not a stupid man, he knows what you’re doing. But he won’t dare try to stop you. He likes the tease, loves the thought of you pining over him, and maybe one day he’ll finally teach you a lesson of what happens to naughty girls that just don’t know when to quit.

   “Stop that,” he demands, watching you lick your lips slowly while you swallow a cherry. 

   “Stop what?” you ask innocently. 

   “Stop teasin’ me.” His eyes are narrowed, jaw clenched as his eyes follow your tongue licking across the fresh fruit. 

   “Make me,” you smirk. You swallow the cherry whole and tap your manicured fingernails against the counter top, challenging him to make a move. 

   He clenches his fingers into a tight fist, sliding his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his eyes darkening as his nostrils flare in anger. He’s mad, furious that you’re making him this frazzled. He can’t ignore the hardening cock that stiffens against the denim of his jeans. All because you’re a fucking tease. 

   You pop your hip out and play with the cherry stem in between your fingers, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously at the handsome man that can barely control himself around you. “You know, they say if you can tie a knot with your tongue with a cherry stem that means you’re a good kisser,” you smirk. 

   “Is that right, darlin’?” he asks all intrigued, leaning forward as his dark eyes hone in on you. 

   “Mhm. Read a thing or two about it,” you giggle. 

   “Show me.” His voice comes out deep, gravelly as he leans against the counter and crosses his arms. It doesn’t come out as a response but a demand loud and clear. 

   You smirk his way and nod. You pop the cherry stem in your mouth and get to work. Your tongue twists and turns, working hard to get just the right angle with the stem. Joel watches you eagerly, his eyes blowing wide while his nostrils flare aggressively. You know he’s hard behind his jeans, and you’re dying to see just how massive he is. 

   When you finally feel the tiny knot in the stem, you open your mouth and reach in, grabbing the wet end with your fingertips. You hold it up and sure enough you did it. Right in the middle it’s tied in a tight knot. You knew you could do it. 

   Joel smirks your way, smoldering eyes glazed in a trance as he flicks them up and down your body seductively. Oh, he’s impressed and turned on. Look at the mess you’ve made. 

   “Color me impressed, sweetheart. That’s a neat talent you got there. What else can you do with that tongue?” he asks with a devilish grin curling against his big lips. 

   “Why don’t you come find out?” you taunt him. 

   He’s on you in less than a minute, large hands holding your hips against the counter while his hard cock digs into your thigh. You’re breathless, breathing in the scent of his mahogany cologne and his fresh soap smell while his dark eyes bleed into yours.

   “Careful with that pretty mouth, darlin’. I don’t think you realize what you’re gettin’ yourself into,” he warns, blown eyes making slick build in your lacy panties. 

   “No? I think I do,” you smirk. 

   “Shouldn’t be playin’ games with your dad’s best friend, sweetheart. Could get ya into trouble,” he tsks, clicking his tongue will his thick fingers dig into the material of your skimpy dress. 

   “So get me into trouble, Mr. Miller,” you whisper, enticing him to make a move as your hand drags down to where his hard cock is skimming across your thigh. 

   He’s on you then, his warm mouth pressing firmly against yours as his hands slowly slide your dress up. The kiss is messy, hot, uncontrolled as one of his hands fist the back of your curls. You part your mouth open and invite him in, letting him slot his tongue inside your panting mouth. 

   Your fingers slide through his tousled curls, pulling a low groan from his throat while his tongue licks feverishly inside your mouth. You could drown in his coffee taste, get lost in his lush locks with his teeth nipping at your skin. This was better than you imagined, better than your wildest dreams.

   He slides his calloused thumb against your drenched lace, finding your buzzing clit as he draws meticulous circles over and over. You moan into his mouth, panting his name as his fingers set your core on fire. 

   “Yeah? You like that, little tease?” he chuckles darkly, nipping against your bottom lip as another moan leaves your lips. 

   “Yes, fuck yes,” you say through clenched teeth. 

   “Mmm. Dirty girl wants her daddy’s best friend to finger fuck her, is that right?” he teases, sliding his fingers inside your lace and gliding through your damp folds, his fingers curling up into your dripping hole.

   You part your lips and moan, twisting your fingers tightly through his messy curls. “Fuck, Joel. Please, please. Want you to… ohhh,” you moan, melting into a puddle as his thick fingers hit that spongy spot that you can never reach yourself. 

   “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles. 

   His mouth finds neck, sucking against your collarbone as his free hand squeezes one of your perky breasts. He elicits another moan from you, the wet noises of his fingers fucking into you floating around the room, the obscene sounds making him groan against the shell of your ear. 

   Before you know what happens he releases his fingers from your core and grabs your hips firmly, hoisting you up on the edge of the counter while he pulls the ruined lace down your legs and drops them to the tiled floor. You let out a squeak, watching the way he spreads your legs and pulls you to the edge, hungry eyes eating you alive. 

   “Gonna need you to be quiet, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” he asks through gritted teeth, like he’s holding himself back from dragging you to his mouth. 

   “Mhm,” you hum, out of breath while more slick pools in between your thighs. “Joel, please,” you beg. 

   “Ain’t gotta beg, baby girl. Gonna take good care of this pretty pussy,” he purrs. 

   He wastes no time as he licks a thick stripe up your folds, lathering you in the wetness of his warm tongue. You throw your head back and grip the edge of the counter while he settles your legs over his shoulders. 

   He places his meaty hands around the backs of your thighs and starts to make out with your pussy. His tongue divides your folds, licking up inside your drenched hole and makes his way up to your puffy clit. He draws meticulous circles over your aching bundle of nerves, eliciting low moans that fall off the tip of your tongue. 

   You tangle your hands through his smooth locks, hear him grunt while he pulls your buzzing mound into his warm mouth. “Oh my God, Joel,” you whine. 

   “Yeah? Like the sound of you moaning my name, sweetheart. Say it again,” he demands as he plunges two thick fingers into your gushing core, watching slick slide down his hand while he’s knuckles deep in you. 

   You moan it again and again and again, watching his blown out eyes stare up at you menacingly, mouth feasting on your drool coated pussy. He finger fucks you swiftly, curling his fingers to hit that spongy spot over and over again, his deft tongue gliding against your throbbing clit until you’re right on the edge. 

   Your walls clench against his fingers, mouth chanting his name dreamily while he gets you right where you need to be. 

   “Come for me, sweetheart. Drench these fingers with that sweet, sticky cum. Be a good girl now,” he purrs, licking against your warm core. 

   He pulls your bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks hard, rutting his thick fingers against the sweetest spongy spots that takes you to the finish line. You throw your head back and moan his name, feeling the white hot heat slide down the back of your spine. 

   “Attagirl. Look at you spill, goddamn” he growls, licking your spilling slick between your thighs and working his fingers in and out of your core, making sure to get every single drop of cum from your center. 

   He talks you through it, licking you clean as he works you through your intense orgasm, massaging your thighs until your breathing is back to normal. He slides your panties back up your thighs, covering your ruined pussy while he pulls your skirt back over your thighs.

   He stands up between your legs and circles your hips with his meaty hands, whispering sweet incantations in the shell of your ear. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Hope you liked your present.” 

   He gives you a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste your own release on the tip of your tongue along with the delicious taste of him. 

   You wrap your arms around his neck loosely, not yet wanting him to leave the room without you tucked into his side. “Joel,” you murmur through a warm daze.

   “Hmm?” He knits his eyebrows into a tight line and looks at you with clouded brown eyes.

   “Can we do that again?” you ask with big sappy eyes full of hope.

   He huffs out, groaning through his teeth as his wide eyes stay locked on yours. “You want to do that again?” he asks, licking his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. 

   “Mhm,” you nod, smiling over at him. “Next time I want you to fuck me, and I want to suck your cock.”

   He chokes on his own saliva and chuckles out, shaking his head as he tightens his grip on your hips. “Jesus Christ. You’re gonna be a handful, ain’t ya?”

   “You know I am.” You giggle and push your fingers through his messy curls, adjusting it so it doesn’t look like he just went down on you. 

   He shakes his head and sighs, helping you off the spotless counter top. His fingertips hover over your back, hands pressing against your sweating skin while his lips hang dangerously close to your mouth. “You messy girl. What am I gonna do with ya, huh?” he smiles, tracing his thumb over your lower lip.

   “Guess you just have to keep me,” you shrug, smiling blissfully at the man of your dreams.

   “Maybe I will, sweetheart. Maybe I will.”

   He curls a strand of hair behind your ear and trails his lips against your cheek, mouth closing in on yours. Your breath hitches and body comes alive just waiting for his lips to be back on yours. Suddenly, the back door is swinging up and heavy footsteps are coming through the kitchen entryway.

   You and Joel jump apart, your heart in your throat and adrenaline coursing through your blood. “There you two are. Was wondering where you were,” your dad shouts, his loud voice killing the heat of the moment. 

   “Sorry, bud. Your daughter here was just showin’ me how good these cherries were,” Joel says calmly. He grabs a cherry from the bowl and pops it in his mouth, winking your way before he exits the kitchen with your dad. 

   You stand there breathlessly, not believing what just happened. Joel just kissed you, finger fucked you, and ate you out in the middle of the kitchen where anyone could’ve walked in and saw. You were walking on thin ice, but you’d happily do it all over again.

   You readjust your dress and smooth down your messy locks, making sure your lipstick isn’t all smudged down your chin. Once you make sure you look like you hadn’t just been fucked, you make your way outside into the backyard. 

   Your friends crowd around the inground pool while your folks and neighbors sit around on some lounge chairs, sipping on lemonade and eating hamburgers off plastic plates. You find an empty chair next to your friend, Nikki, and act as if you were completely normal. Nothing was normal about today, though. Not after what just happened in the kitchen with Joel Miller. The hottest neighbor that had walked into your dad’s life three years ago. Guess he always had a thing for you secretly, you just didn’t know it till this year.

   Your eyes flick across the lawn and you find Joel staring at you, nursing a beer down with his lips around the flute of the bottle. His honey brown eyes find yours, and you gasp when you see a smudge of red lipstick smeared across the collar of his blue flannel. You giggle at the sight of it, snickering to yourself as you join in on a conversation about your weekend plans. 

   Guess you left your mark on him after all. 

[devildomditzy]

You’re late for your date.

Like, Late late.

And of course, if the situation were switched, you wouldn’t have minded.

In fact, you would have expected it.

But you are you and Mammon is Mammon.

So of course, his leniency for being ignored is next to zero.

He leans against the front door inside the common room of the House of Lamentation. And he looks at his watch.

4:00

4:00

You’re an hour late.

And of course, Mammon tried to play it cool at first, swiping through his D.D.D with an unimpressed look on his face. He’s cool. Nonchalant. His brothers can’t know he’s internally freaking out;

Because he’s totally not.

Of course not. No way. Not over you of all people.

But he can’t hide the jitters so graciously given to him by his nervous system.

“Are you being stood up?”, Satan calls from a nearby armchair in the room, not bothering to look up from what he’s reading.

“I ain’t being stood up! They’ll be here, they’re just…busy. Yeah, that’s it. They’re busy.”

Asmo lays upside down on the couch, scrolling on his own D.D.D.

“Of course they stood him up, they’d much rather go on a date with mwah”, he gloats from his position.

“Oi! Shut up will ya?!”, Mammon screams back, now standing rigidly, hands balled up at his side in anger, leaning into the conversation, ready to make it an argument.

As he takes another breath to get a word out, Satan cuts him off.

“Where were you going anyway?”

“Yeah, where?”, Asmo brightly echos back.

Mammon sighs, body relaxing as he slouches back into his leaning position.

“We were supposed to go to Devil Coast ‘bout an hour ago. But of course MC ain’t got a bone of urgency in their body.”

He grunts, frustratingly looking down at his D.D.D. Twenty-five messages. No replies. What was up with ya?

Asmo cackles wildly, “Maybe they forgot about you, hm?”

Mammon’s face begins to heat up with anger.

“Listen here you little-”

Satan once again cuts him off. “We all know there’s no way they’d forget about Mammon. He’s much too loud”, he says, turning his page.

“Would y’all shuddup? Jeez”, Mammon’s tone becomes lethal in a way his brothers know they should stop pushing, so they do, shooting each other concerned glances.

“Have they texted you back at all?”, questions Satan.

Mammon sighs, “No, not yet.”

He looks down at his phone, scrolling through your message thread.

2:50 PM

Mammon: Yo! Ready to go?

Mammon: I’m by the front door, I’ll be waitin’ for ya.

Mammon: Remember to bring your coat ya dummy, cause I ain’t letting’ you borrow mine this time!

Mammon: Okay

Mammon: Maybe I would let ya borrow it if you really needed it and were shivering and stuff and needed The Great Mammon’s help to warm ya up.

Mammon: But you gotta say please 😜

2:57 PM

Mammon: Alright, where are ya?

Mammon: Thought we agreed on 3:00

Mammon: Do ya need more time gettin’ ready?

Mammon: Tryin’ to look good for your first, huh?

Mammon: I’ll wait a little longer for ya.

3:10 PM

Mammon: Hurry it up, will ya?

Mammon: I understand wantin’ to look nice, but it’s ten after! Ten!

Mammon: Ya know, you’re the only human that keeps me waitin’ like this!

3:30 PM

Mammon: Okay, yer bein’ kinda ridiculous right now.

Mammon: I mean come on, ya gotta date with Mammon. THE Mammon. Ya know how lucky you are?

Mammon: Alotta people would kill to be in your position.

3:35 PM

Mammon: But of course I wouldn’t go with them. I wouldn’t go on a date with anyone but you, okay?

Mammon: That’s why you need to get yer ass down here!

3:40 PM

Mammon: You’ve got some nerve makin’ THE Mammon wait around for ya!

3:45 PM

Mammon: Whatever, isn’t like I wanted to go out with ya anyway.

Mammon: I was doin’ this for you, ya know.

Mammon: Why would I wanna be see around with some lousy human?

Mammon: What am I, yer babysitter?

3:55 PM

Mammon: Look, I didn’t mean that, alright?

Mammon: Please come down.

“Are you sure they’re not asleep?”, Satan ponders curiously.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’ve been talkin’ about this for weeks”, Mammon says defeatedly, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“Are you sure they’re okay?”, Asmo asks, voice laced with concern.

“Okay?!”, Mammon shoots his attention to the avatar of lust. “Wah- what- why wouldn’t they be okay?”

Asmo looks around sheepishly, bringing his nails up to his lips to bite them, something he never does unless he’s either A) super stressed or B) covering something up.

Mammon steps towards his brother, anger beginning to boil, knowing what his mannerisms mean. “Whadda you know that I don’t?! C’mon, spill it!”

The urgency in his voice compels Asmo to speak, knowing how sensitive his brother is when it comes to you.

“Well… I promised them I wouldn’t tell you…”

“Tell me what?!”

His brother remains quiet for a moment.

“Asmo…”, Mammon threatens dangerously.

“Ugh, okay I’ll tell you”, Asmo sighs, mumbling quickly under his breath, “MC, please forgive me!”

Mammon stares at his brother impatiently as he starts,

“Well, MC came to me the other day after class. I knew something was wrong because there were tears in their beautiful eyes”, Asmo lays his hand across his forehead as if he were faint.

“Skip the dramatics and keep talkin’!”

“Okay, sheesh. So MC came to me and told me they haven’t been feeling very good lately.”

“What, are they sick or somthin’?”

“No no, nothing like that. More like, their brain feels sick? They said they don’t really know why, but they’ve been feeling bad about themselves lately - which I told them was totally ridiculous! AND I offered them a full makeover WITH facial and they denied it, but that always makes ME feel better.”

Asmo pouts before continuing, “Plus, with all the extra work Lucifer and Lord Diavolo have been giving them with the student council, they said they feel like they’re under so much pressure, they’re gonna crack soon.”

“Why ain’t they tellin’ me any of this!?”

“Because,” Asmo says annoyed, “they don’t want to upset you!”

“What? That’s ridiculous!”, exclaims Mammon.

Asmo matches his volume, “I know right?! That’s what I told them! But they said you were so excited about your date that they didn’t wanna ruin it- hey, where are you going!?”, Asmo yells as Mammon walks out of the room.

“Where’d ya think! I’m gonna go talk to MC!”, Mammon yells back.

So that’s why you weren’t there? You’ve been hurting? For awhile it seems, and you didn’t tell him?

He’s gotta admit, he’s a little hurt. But he knows this isn’t about him right now.

It’s about you.

Mammon didn’t know he would be nervous to see you until he was standing in front of your door. What if says the wrong thing and makes it worse? What if he can’t help you at all? What if he made you feel this way?

Okay. He realizes with that last one that he’s spiraling. Time to fix this.

He lifts a shaky hand to your door, knocking three times rhythmically - the one you know is his knock. And only his.

He cringes when he hears your weak voice choke out a small “come in”.

The room is dark; All the lights are out and it’d be pitch black save for the window next to your bed, illuminating your form, a shivering lump hiding under your blanket.

He lets out a sigh as he walks further in. He should have known about this. He should have been able to pick up on this. Boyfriend of the year, huh?

You sniffle as you pop your head out from under your hiding place.

“H-hey Mams”, you hiccup, giving away the tears that still stream down your face. “I-I’m sorry I ruined our date. I should have texted you, I-I just…”

Mammon walks till he’s leaning right over you, hands on his hips. “Uh-uh, I don’t care about that right now. What I do care about is you, mainly why didn’t ya tell me you were feelin’ like this before our date?”

The tone is his voice gives way to his own hurt, and you can’t help but start to cry again at the sound of it, knowing it’s your fault.

“Shh, shhh,” he quickly sits down on the bed next to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. “I ain’t mad at ya or anything, I just wanna know why.”

He knows why; Asmo told him. But, he wants to hear it from you.

You pull your arm out from under the blanket (and Mammon’s hold) to wipe your face. “I’m fine really, it’s just”, you sniffle, but Mammon cuts you off.

“Ya clearly not, c’mon MC”, he says, oceanic eyes meeting yours and - it’s hard not to crack under that gaze. “Tell me what’s the matter, please.”

Mammon stares at you in silence, signaling that it’s your turn to talk, and he would quietly listen. As long as you trust him, he’d always listen to whatever it is you have to say, no matter what.

You sit up a little straighter, pulling your arm out from under the comforter to wipe your tears. Composing yourself, you look into his eyes. His face softens at the sight.

Clearing your throat you start, “I don’t know. I’ve just been so overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed with what? All that work Lucifer and Lord Diavolo keep pushin’ on you? Tell ‘em to shove it!”

You shoot him a dangerous look. “We both know I can’t do that.”

“Sure ya can, I do it all the time!”, Mammon proudly declares, making you smile brightly and chuckle.

“And you always end up hanging from the rafters”, you laugh.

“I never said I got away with it”, he replies, smiling just as brightly back.

Your giggle peters out as you begin to speak again. “I’ve got so much more work to do and so little time to do it”, you frown. “And I’ve been pushing myself really hard! And- I dunno. I guess it’s taking a toll on me.”

“Yeah, Asmo said you were havin’ it pretty rough.”

At the mention of Asmo’s name, you shoot upwards in shock.

“He told you?!”

“Course he did. Did ya forget which ones of us you can trust with secrets?”.

You grumble in anger. “That little - UGH! I’m gonna kill him.”

“Let’s put murder on the back burner,” Mammon says, pushing your shoulder to lay you back down in your slouching position. “How’s ‘bout ya tell me what’s really bothering’ ya and I’ll help ya threaten the primadonna later, yeah?”.

You give him the side eye, but collapse under his gaze. Curse those eyes! You swear he can put you under some kind of truth spell with those things.

“Fine. I guess… it’s just… I…”

“Any day now, Treasure.”

You make an exasperated noise and glare at him. “You know it’s not fair to use that word on me when I’m upset.”

“When you’re upset at me. And yer not upset at me right now, right? Please say right”, he finishes his sentence with a sense of urgency, now worried that he could be the cause.

He’s wracking his brain for anything he could have said or done recently that made you upset. Are you mad at him cause he teased you the other day when you did your makeup differently. He told ya he only did it cause he liked it. Are you mad because he cheated off of you in potions class? Well, he’s your first, dammit! You should be helping him anyways. That’s what a loyal subject does.

“No, no it’s not you. I just haven’t been feeling very good about myself lately.”

“What! That’s ridiculous!”, he shouts and - he’s trying to be helpful in his own way, but his raising voice makes you wince. He notices, quickly shifting his tone. “I mean, what’s there not to like, doll.”

You smile to yourself at the nickname. He’s trying his hardest to be sweet. You should try your hardest to let him in on your thoughts a bit too.

“I don’t like the way I look. I’m not pretty, I’m not cool, I don’t even know what you see in me.”

“Don’t be dumb, MC!”

“Mammon, look at you! You’re you. You’re one of the seven demon lords of hell, you’re a whole model, and you’re one of the coolest guys I’ve ever met - Devildom, Human Realm, or celestial! You know you’re hot, so I’m worried…”, you trail off quietly.

“Worried bout what, MC?”, he asks at your hesitance, worry evident in his eyes. He places his hand on top of yours on the bed without breaking eye contact.

“…I’m worried that one day you’ll realize you’re too good for me and leave.”

“Leave? Whaddaya talkin’ about? How would I leave? I live here too ya know”, he says, poking your nose.

“You know what I mean, Mammon”, you say swiping his hand away from your face. “You’ll leave me.”

Mammon rolls his eyes, waving a hand towards your direction dismissively. “Oh yeah, I’ll leave you alright. That’s exactly why I was waitin’ for ya at the door for an hour to take ya on a date. Cause I wanna leave ya soooo bad. Do ya see how ridiculous you sound?”.

You sigh, eyes looking towards the bedsheets as you play with his hand that has found its way back to yours. You don’t look up as you speak. “See, I didn’t even come down for our date. Or text you. I just moped around up here. Im a terrible partner. And I’m sure you’re gonna realize it soon.”

Mammon makes a ‘tch’ noise with his tongue, before grabbing you by the chin and making you look into his eyes, making you gasp in surprise.

“And ya think I’m such a great boyfriend, huh? I’m just the best? The guy who spends his free time at the casino runnin’ up scams? The guy who used ta blame his screw ups on ya to get outta trouble? Yeah MC, I’m a real peach. Cream of the crop if ya ask me”, he lectures, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What are you trying to say”, you question, grabbing his wrist to take his hand off your chin, to which he carefully obliges.

“I’m sayin’ that I’m not so great myself. But you still love me, right?

“Yeah, and?”

“Exactly. I’ve got flaws, we’ve all got flaws, even father had flaws, clearly”, he mumbles the last part under his breath.

“I wouldn’t stop lovin’ ya over any dumb thing like looks or status. In fact, I can’t think of a single reason why I’d stop lovin’ ya, ya dumb human. Sorry ‘boutcha luck, but yer stuck with The Great Mammon forever”, he jokes, ruffling your hair.

“What about when I die? I’m human, you’ll outlive me by a long shot. Don’t you want to be with someone, I don’t know, with the same…life span as you?”

“Nah, I’ll still love your dumbass skeleton when you’re a stupid ghost.”

“How romantic.”

“Listen. My point is I’m yours and you’re mine. That ain’t changin’, alright? And I’m not mad ‘bout our date, we’ll reschedule it. Just next time, ya could let me know before I stand by the front door for over an hour like a jackass. My brothers got enough to make fun of me over already.”

He pulls a little smile out of you with that last one.

“And about all that student council junk Lucifer and Lord Diavolo keep thrown’ on ya, I’ll talk to them. Maybe they’ll let you divide it up between all of us, alright?”.

You sniffle, wiping your face once more and shaking your head in an affirmative nod. “Sounds good. Thank you, Mams. I’m sorry.”

“C’mon now, quit yer apologizin’. It’s fine. You apologize for somethin’ like that again, I’m tellin’ Beel you ate his pudding from Madam Screams.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I’ll dare alright, ‘n then some”, he jokes, tackling you to the bed. “Why don’t we watch a movie or somethin’. You gotta make up the lost date time you owe me.”

You laugh at his antics, agreeing. “Okay, okay. I’m on it.”

As you sit in front of your shared DVD collection to pick tonight’s selection, you throw your voice over your shoulder.

“Hey Mams?”

“Yeah?”, he asks from his spot on your bed, scrolling on his D.D.D.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, Treasure.”

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x fem!reader.

the day after another full moon, blitzø comes into the office bragging about his sexual prowess. when you make one too many snide comments about it, he decides to show you just how good stolas gets it every month.

based on an anonymous request and far longer than I originally planned.

4k.

featuring: pure smut, bondage, oral sex (m&f receiving), breathplay, dom!blitzø, overstimulation, degradation, daddy kink, sex in the i.m.p. office, creampies, very minor bloodplay.

“Well,” Blitzø makes a show of stretching his arms out in front of him as he comes strolling into the office, interlacing his fingers and cracking his knuckles. “If the way his Royal Bird-ness was still shakin’ and droolin’ when I left is any indication, we’re good for at least another – where the fuck are you guys?!”

You roll your eyes from where you’re holed up in the conference room, suddenly wishing you had decided to work from home today. The last thing you were in the mood for was listening to your boss brag ad nauseum about his sex life; you’d had the latest of a long string of bad dates last night, and while they’d actually managed to impress you enough to earn the chance to come home with you, they’d proved quickly disappointing.

“In here!” you call out despite your reluctance, your feet kicked up on the table in front of you, and you fold your arms across your chest.

“The fuck is everyone else?” The imp demands as he enters.

“On a Sunday? D’you really think M&M are gonna come in on their day off just to hear you brag about how you fucked the prince again?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t ya?” he shoots back.

You wave a hand at the stack of papers piled up beside your shoes. “I pulled the short straw on paperwork this month. You’d remember that if you weren’t so busy thinking with your dick all the time.”

He narrows his eyes at you for a moment before shrugging and rounding the table to take his own seat at the head of it. You smack away the spade of his tail as it comes up to caress your cheek mockingly as he passes, and he snickers.

“Guess you’ll have to do, then. You wanna hear the panty-droppin’ play-by-play, or you want me to just tell you the gushiest top ten?”

You sigh heavily. “I’ve got work to do, Blitzø.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, tail waving back and forth behind him. A downright evil grin plays across his features and he sing-songs, “Ooh, someone’s jealous.”

“Oh, sure,” you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just sit here all day, pining and completely wet with jealousy because you’re off fucking the owl instead of me. It’s a miracle I wasn’t just getting myself off right here thinking about it.”

Blitzø cocks an eyebrow, his gaze sliding down over your body. It lingers at where your thighs are pressed together, your knees against the edge of the table. He smirks up at you from under his brows when his eyes return to your face. “Hey, tits, don’t let me stop you. You wanna rub one out thinking about Stolas squirmin’ on my thick co—”

“For the love of Satan, please shut up.” you say dryly, and Blitzø cackles. “Besides, if you were half as good as you think you are, you wouldn’t constantly feel the need to tell us about it.”

The imp scoffs, sneering. “Bitch, I’m twice as good as I think I am.” He jabs a finger at you, tossing his sunglasses onto the table in front of him. “You might know that if you ever unwadded your panties from your ass long enough to have some fun.”

“Because ‘fun’ automatically translates to getting naked with you.”

He shrugs a shoulder, that infuriating, knowing smirk still in place. “Don’t have to be naked. Got plenty of things I could do to you without takin’ off a thread, and you’d still be gaggin’ for more. Besides, you’re so hard up and overdue for a good bone sesh that I bet I could get you beggin’ for it just as much as Birdy-boy does in half the time.”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to deadpan despite the way his words have sent heat rushing through your body to warm your belly and your cheeks. Instead, you lower your feet to the floor, pointedly dragging your paperwork across the table towards you. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, boss.”

“Hey!” he jabs his finger at you again, standing up so he can plant a hand on the table and lead towards you. “I don’t come in here and question your skill in the sack!”

“You just told me I was hard up!”

“Yeah, but that ain’t because of your…” he stops, eyes widening. A broad grin widens over his features as realization hits him and you hold back a grimace. “You had a date last night!”

Damnit Millie. “I—”

He pouts at you mockingly, leaning closer to you and further into your personal space. It’s getting harder to avoid his eye. “What’s the matter, sugartits? Did they get your motor runnin’ then fail to deliver all the rough and tumble you wanted? They get you all hot and bothered, all ready to beg for it like a good little slut and then leave you high and completely fucking dry?”

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, pointedly trying to ignore the insinuation. Because fuck the bastard, but he’s right… and something in his tone is really starting to send a prickling over your skin that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Blitzø’s smile widens, darkening into something seductive as he moves around to your side of the table. He spins your chair towards him, taking hold of your knees and pressing them far enough apart to step up between them. You feel your face flush further. “Don’t avoid the question.”

You roll your eyes again, hands curling into fists in your lap as he leans ever closer into your personal space. His claws are still wrapped around your knees, and you feel them smooth up your thighs at a glacial pace. “Fuck, Blitzø, you’re such a fucking—”

His mouth meets your roughly, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s hard and angry and hot, and he kisses you with enough force to press you back into the chair and knock the air out of your lungs. His hands are still on your thighs, and you feel his claws tighten on your flesh. Your curse yourself when you hear a whine slip out of you, and even muffled by his mouth, you just know he hears it too.

When he breaks the kiss you inhale sharply, and he only moves back to meet your eye again. His claws skim over the inside of your thighs tauntingly, and even through your jeans, it makes you shudder the closer he gets to the apex of your thighs.

“So,” Blitzø says, and the sudden huskiness to his voice makes you swallow. His tail is switching back and forth behind him, an almost predatory edge to the movement. There’s a challenge in his eyes, and despite everything, it thrills you. “You wanna fuck me or not?”

You exhale a breath in the hopes of steadying yourself. He knows the effect he’s having on you, the cocky bastard. “…You’re gonna be fucking insufferable either way, aren’t you?’

He nods slowly, that irritating, self-assured smile widening slightly.

You sigh, reaching up to take hold of the lapel of his jacket. He snickers as you tug him roughly back towards you.

“You know if you suck, I’m never gonna let you live it down, right?”

Blitzø’s attention has already dropped to your front, his fingers releasing your thighs to instead slowly unbutton your shirt. You shiver as his claws just ghost against your sternum as they move. “You gonna talk this much during?”

“Prick.”

“Bitch.”

 He spreads your shirt open, walking his fingers idly up your stomach. He palms your breast suddenly, grin widening as your breath hitches when he squeezes.

“Seriously, though, might wanna save your breath.” he continues, pinching your nipple hard. He grins when you jerk at the sudden pain. “’Cause you’re gonna need those lungs for all the ways you’re gonna wanna scream my name.”

“Ugh, you’re such a—”

Blitzø’s mouth is on yours again before you can finish the insult, one hand still on your breast. His other hand bunches in your hair, forcing your head back almost painfully. He bites at your bottom lip before his mouth moves lower, teeth and tongue teasing at your throat. His fangs graze your pulse point, and you hiss at the pain of it, feeling blood well up against your skin. His tongue slides over the same spot, and he purrs.

His other hand tugs the cup of your bra down to bare the soft flesh to the cold air and to him, palming it roughly. You arch under his touch, tightening your hand on his lapel and tugging him closer. Blitzø chuckles against your neck, straddling your thigh, and you shove his jacket off his shoulders.

“Shoulda known you’d be an eager little slut,” he mutters against your collarbone and you take his face in your hands, bringing him back into another heady kiss. One hand moves up to flick fingers over the spines between his horns, and he groans into your mouth. “Just like Stolas… you uptight bitches are always—”

“Shut the fuck up, Blitzø,” you snap back at him, taking hold of his horn as his mouth returns to your throat and lower, lips sucking a mark into the curve where your neck meets your collarbone.

He grinds down against your thigh and you thrill at the feeling of his hardening cock against you. When his tongue finds your nipple, you gasp.

“Nope,” he replies simply, annoyingly self-assured, his breath teasing the damp flesh of your breast. Your nipple tightens further under the caress of it. He cups a hand between your thighs, rubbing it roughly against your denim-covered cunt.  He toys with it through your pants for a moment, pulling his hand away as soon as a moan slips past your lips. “Now, get your hot little ass up, slut. Supplies are in my office.”

“The fuck do you need supplies for?!”

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

“Holy fuck, Blitzø!” you buck up into his mouth, eyes rolling back.

He’s got you spread out on the desk, your hands bound up with rope and tied to the base of the legs at one end. The length of the rope has forced your hands up over your head, the ache in your biceps completely eclipsed by the sensations between your thighs. Blitzø is kneeling between them, his tail wrapped tightly around one and his hand around the other, your knees thrown over his shoulders. He’s lifted you up off the desk so all your weight is balanced on your shoulder blades, his other hand wrapped around your stomach to reach his claws between your thighs to torture your clit.

His tongue is deep inside your cunt, the sound of his feasting on you the only thing competing with your moaning. Blitzø groans into you, and you swear you can feel his smirk when you try to grind your pussy up against his mouth, hindered by the position he has you in. His tongue finds your g-spot and you whimper brokenly, teeth digging hard into your lip. You can feel your own release dripping down between the cheeks of your ass; you’ve come three times already, and your entire body is shuddering with the stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you chant through gritted teeth, brow furrowed. Blitzø is watching you from beneath his brows, eyes hooded and his claws tightening on your thigh. You strain against the ropes, the threads of it digging into your wrists, and he grins against your cunt, his tongue pressing against your g-spot just as he pinches your clit. “Oh, fuck!”

You cum again, hips jerking under his touch, desperate to get away from his torturous tongue.

You hate yourself a little for admitting, “Blitzø… I can’t…”

He snickers, flicking his tongue over your clit as he withdraws it. “Aw, c’mon, sugar. Birdy made it all the way to six before he was tapping out and begging for me to finally give him my sweet cock. You can last longer than that, can’t you, slut?”

The spade of his tail slides over your clit, and you twitch. You know he’s goading you but you can’t help but clench your jaw petulantly and nod, and he grins up at you.

“That’s a good girl,” he tells you huskily and you whimper as his breath teases over your swollen clit. He raises a brow. “Ohhh, you liked that, huh? You like being a good girl for daddy.”

You glare up at him even as you feel your face flush with heat.

“You do,” he continues cockily, tongue touching your clit for a moment and you shiver. “You love being daddy’s good little slut, don’t you?”

“If you…” you say breathlessly. “…If you need a breather, Blitzø, you can just say that.”

He snorts, squeezing your ass. “Uh, uh, tits. You wanna another round, I need to hear you say it.”

“Satan, you’re an asshole.”

“Yup,” he replies, ever so slowly circling your clit with his thumb. You exhale shakily. “Now say it. Tell me you’ll be a good little slut.”

You force yourself to heave an impatient sigh, trying to inject as much impatience into your voice as possible. Still, despite your efforts it comes out breathy and shuddering. “I’ll… I’ll be a good slut for you… daddy.”

Blitzø’s grin widens victoriously and he rewards you by returning his tongue to your cunt, and your head falls back against the desk. Your chest heaves as he quickly works you undone again, two fingers pressing into you.

“Alright, alright, don’t embarrass yourself, tits.” he tells you tauntingly.

“Go fuck yourself, Blitzø.”

“Heh.” he chuckles obnoxiously. “Keep talkin’ dirty like that and I might just leave you all trussed up and pretty like this for M&M to find tomorrow morning.”

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

“Fuck, you’ve got a slutty little mouth,” Blitzø groans as you swallow around him, choking slightly as the head of his cock brushed the back of his throat. “Satan’s taint, listen to you. You’ve been holdin’ back on me, pretendin’ to be all innocent.”

You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t choose that moment to thrust hard into your mouth, the length of him sliding against your tongue. You curl it obediently around him as he does, and his eyes roll back for a moment.  He’s kneeling between your bound arms, watching with hooded eyes as your throat bulges each time he fucks himself into your mouth. You can barely breath; you find yourself lightheaded even as you suck at his cock eagerly.

You’d just barely made it to eight orgasms without blacking out before he’d finally let up, childishly determined to take more than he’d expected. It had left you sweaty and aching against the desk, and you could still feel a small pool of your own cum against your ass as you’d finally been allowed to relax your hips down against the wood.

Blitzø has claws fisted in your hair, and you whine around him as he reaches down to squeeze your breast, pinch your nipples. Every now and then he lets the spade of his tail brush over your clit, and he snickers when it makes you jerk and gag around him.

“Fuck,” he moans, his hand leaving your nipple to take hold of your throat. He can feel his cock thrusting beneath your skin, and he squeezes, grinning devilishly as you let out a choking moan. “Baby likes being choked, too, huh? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

Blitzø plays with you like that for who knows how long, withdrawing his cock from your mouth just long enough for you to pull air into your lungs with a desperate inhale before he presses in again. You’re drooling and whimpering, body quaking against the desk as his tail starts teasing your clit again in earnest.

Your hips buck up under his ministrations, and Blitzø doesn’t stop until you gag in earnest, pulling out and smirking as you cough.

“That’s my girl.”

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

Blitzø’s cock slides into your cunt slowly and you whimper at the feeling of it, eyes squeezed closed.

He’d watched, annoyingly amused, as you’d caught your breath, sitting back on his heels over you. Then he’d surprised you by producing bottled water when he’d untied you.

Still, he’d barely given you more than a minute before he was urging you to roll over onto your knees. He’d wrapped the rope around your thighs before retying your wrists, tightening it until it forced your thighs apart. The way he’d tied you forced you to sit with your back arched slightly, your kiss-bruised breasts on full display as you knelt on the hard wood. You’d normally find yourself embarrassed by the way you were exposed, but the way he watched you, admired you, instead made your mind spin and your heart throb in your chest.

You’d heard his belt buckle clink at he unfastened his pants behind you, surprising you by pressing an almost tender kiss to the side of your throat. His claws ghosted over your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Always knew you’d look good on your knees, baby.”

You’d turned your head as he had, catching him in a kiss that was all tongue and still-desperate need. He’d groaned into it, letting it linger for a few long moments before he finally broke away again. Now, he’s laid out beneath you, his hands clutching at your hips as he lowers you onto his cock. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back as he bottoms out inside you. His pelvic bone brushes against your clit and you whine. Blitzø echoes the sound with a growl.

“Holy shit, sugar,” he grunts, flexing his claws against your flesh. “Holy fucking shit, didn’t know someone could feel this fucking good…”

He urges you into riding him slowly, his claws trailing over the ropes crisscrossing the flesh of your thighs. The way Blitzø watches you grind over his lap sends sparks through you in ways you don’t want to address and your hands strain against the ropes with the sudden urge to touch him.

You want to see how he’ll react to your hands running over his sides, your nails scratching over his nipples. How he’d react to your hands gripping at his horns as you ride him. And you want to kiss him again, you want to trail your lips over his throat and feel his pulse under your tongue.

You want to work him undone that same way he has you.

Blitzø pushes his hips up into yours, hand retaking your hip. His grip is harsh and demanding, claws digging so hard into your flesh you wouldn’t be surprised if it bruised. He’s watching your breasts hungrily as they bounce with every thrust he makes up into you, and the hand still on your thigh moves to tease your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, Blitzø!” you cry out, voice rough with overuse and need. Your thighs tense, the rope digging further into your flesh. You’re so close to cumming again, and the fact that the ropes are stopping you from taking full control of the pace is driving you mad. “Fuck!”

“Fucking told you you’d be screamin’ my name,” he growls, head falling back against the desk. “Shit, you’re gonna feel so good gushin’ all over my cock, princess.”

You moan aloud, eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna need to hear you beg for it, remember?” he tells you, his voice breaking slightly and you know he’s close too. He pinches your clit, his tail wrapping itself around your middle. “C’mon… be a good slut and beg…”

You’re almost sure he’s so far gone that all you’d have to do is wait and he’d cum before he got what he wanted, but you need to cum too; you’re so close that your jaw clenches and your toes are curling. So, you give him what he wants. What you both need.

“Please, Blitzø…” you whine, eyes meeting his. “Please, I need to… I wanna feel you cum, Blitzø…”

He moans, claws quickening against your clit. The two of you actually cum together, his hips thrusting hard up into you. You can feel tears in your eyes as your orgasm wash through you, your chest heaving.

The two of you stay frozen like that for a while after he slumps back down against the desk, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You close your eyes, shuddering with each exhale.

Your eyes snap open again as you hear the shutter effect of his phone’s camera.

“The fuck did you just take a picture of?”

He grins lazily up at you, turning his phone so you can see. The photo shows his hips framed by your thighs; your cunt still stuffed full of his cock. Only the base of his cock is visible, his cum drawing lines down it as it leaks out of you.

You jerk your wrists against the ropes, the movement making you whimper as you accidently squeeze your over-sensitized cunt around him. He snickers, the sound breaking off as his eyes roll back at the sensation.

“Delete it, Blitzø.”

He shakes his head. “Are you kidding? You’re pure spank bank, tits.” his smile widens. “Speakin’ of…”

He snaps another photo, this one aimed high to capture the curve of your breasts. There are makes littering the soft flesh, let behind by his teeth and lips, and the spade of his tail has come up to rest its tip against your nipple.

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“Don’t I know it.” he replies nonchalantly. You feel his tail unwind itself from your stomach and he frees your wrists. The rope slackens immediately around your thighs, your legs prickling with pins and needles as blood returns to them. He rubs his hands over the flesh to help the blood flow. “And you fuckin’ love it.”

“‘Love’s a strong word for it,” you reply dryly, massaging one of your wrists with your other hand.

“Yeah, but it’s a four-letter word,” he says, tossing his phone over his shoulder towards his clothes and propping himself up on his elbows. You can feel him softening inside you as he hands you the water bottle. “I don’t even know how many letters are in ‘get all hot and drippy over it’.”

“Twenty-four.” you say almost immediately, taking a sip of water. You offer it to him; you can feel his tail brushing back and forth against your calf. It feels strangely, surprisingly normal to be still straddling his lap, naked and breathless, and you try not to let yourself question it.

“Freak.”

You smile softly to yourself at the fact that he’s managed to try and insult you even as he takes hold of your wrists and uses his thumbs to rub sensation back into them. He doesn’t even really seem to be aware that he’s doing it.

“You know I’m not helping you clean up this mess, right?”

Blitzø snorts, grinning up at you. “What makes you think I wanna clean up? How’s anyone gonna believe you let me rock your fuckin’ world if they don’t see the evidence? And you know I fuckin’ did.”

“Don’t get too cocky about it, Blitzø.” you shoot back. “How d’you know I wasn’t just faking it so I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Heh. ‘Cocky.” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Tell what’s left of your voice you were fakin’ it.”

“You’re so—”

Blitzø reaches up to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down into another fiery kiss. Your back aches as its finally allowed to bend that way again, but you barely register it with the way his tongue feels sliding against yours.

“Sexy? Fuckable?” Blitzø suggests against your mouth. “Ready for round two?”

You giggle despite yourself, letting your forehead bump against his. When you pull away, he’s smiling like he’s pleased with himself for making you laugh. “You might be, but I’m gonna need a minute.”

“Alright,” he tells you, his tail grazing over your thigh. “But I’m countin’.”

[marypaol]

Strings And Knots

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: Reader makes a bracelet for Draco, and, surprisingly to her, it lasts throughout all their years of Hogwarts.

Warnings: Mention of death, war, murder, suffocation, air pollution, destruction, emotional/physical damage, but overall fluff! (Until the end it’s kinda sad but it ends quite well- just a sad mood.)

Note: I know I did the whole Divination thing wrong since they do it for every month but that’s okay. And I really love this one it’s gotta be in top five favorites! Maybe top three!

Masterlist

Request Requirements

One: The Making

Year: First

Her fingers worked carefully on the thread, the rough texture feeling slightly scratchy against her fingertips. Her hands were red and almost dry, twisting them together before pulling the knot up, securing it as it joined the design she was creating.

She wanted it to be perfect, despite her just learning about a week ago, but each day she practiced a bit and she could tell she was slowly improving.

She grumbled when the strings tangled together and she once again separated the colors. She could use magic, her wand sitting on her bed on top of her Charms and Potions book, but she made it her personal mission not to use the wand, for she wanted it to be made by her very hands, that way the finishing product would be much more meaningful; to her and to him.

Her fingers burned and the tips turned red as she tied the finishing knot at the bottom, taking a pair of scissors afterward and snipping the axis thread, the extra string flying off the once was connected bracelet and landing on her robes. This time she did use the wand, pointing them at the strands and made them disappear with a flick of the tip.

-

“Good, you’re here, look what Potter is doing, hanging around that giant again; honestly, how could you tolerate-what are you doing?”

She was half listening, her fingers focusing on tying the bracelet she made around Draco’s wrist. He made a face she didn’t see, taking his arm to his eyes once she was finished.

“What’s this rubbish?” He snarled, eyes looking disgustingly at the thread on his wrist. The girl rolled her eyes, being used to his on-the-daily-attitude.

“It’s not rubbish,” she protested. “It’s a bracelet. A friendship bracelet to be exact.”

Draco still didn’t wipe the disturbed look off his face, looking down at the thread with uncertainty.

“Look, I have one too; just switched colors.” She said, showing her own by pulling up her robe sleeve, hoping to assure him that out of the two of them he wasn’t the only one wearing a bracelet.

He looked at hers, something in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Well? What does it mean?” He asked, still looking at the strands on his arm.

The girl shrugged even though the meaning of them meant everything to her. “It represents friendship. Ya ever heard of it?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as she looked at him.

He scowled. “Of course I’ve heard of friendship. We are friends, aren’t we?”

She smiled. “Yeah, why do you think I made it for you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well I will admit I like being friends with you but I’m not sure about walking around with this on my wrist.”

The girl looked down at the bracelet she made herself, the strands not seeming so exciting and meaningful anymore, they seemed to be mocking her now, screaming at her that Draco wouldn’t want to wear some silly bracelet.

“Right…” She whispered, chest squeezing. Draco scoffed, leaning over and picking up her chin with his index finger. She looked at him, eyes uncertain and anxious.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t wear it- at least it matches my robes.” He stated, looking down at the green thread and then at the knitted badge of Slytherin on his chest, mouth twitching but she could tell it was his form of smiling. Her lips stretched wide, eyes sparkling. This time his grin broke, but it was small, nice and toothless.

Two: The Sighting

Year: Second

“Snape assigned another essay, I can’t believe it.” She complained with a light scowl in her voice, plopping her books down on the table beside the fireplace, sitting down on the emerald green couch, the surface silky beneath the skin of her hands. Draco grumbled in agreement to her protests, eyes scanning the paper of the Daily Prophet. She always thought it was interesting, him being so young and reading all those kind of grown up things about the Ministry. But it came with an upside: she could always get updates from him about what was currently going on in the Wizarding world. She leaned forward, finger tapping his knee lightly.

“Anything good today?” She asked, neck craning to meet his face behind the stack of papers, moving pictures all around the pages. He shook his head, folding the Prophet up carefully before throwing it onto the table, right next to her textbooks.

“No,” He replied. “And I bet there is, just wait till my father tells me. And that Chamber, he never tells me anything these days.”

It was her turn to agree with a complaint between the two of them.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do, right?” She tried to assure, but Draco wasn’t one for the ‘look on the bright side’ pep talk. She always knew that, but what she also knew was that it was worth a try.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Draco snarled, lips twitching irritably. She smiled lightly, getting off the couch and sitting the floor, pulling her parchment out with a quill and ink bottle.

“How ‘bout that essay, mm?” She hummed, voice smooth and he nodded, still looking like his head wasn’t with her. She watched him as he looked at of the window for a moment, the tallest one in the Common Room, the evening sun providing a warm glow to the space. His hand went to his head, lightly scratching his ear, when she then noticed the worn out thread on his wrist, green and slightly dirty, displaying its age. She smiled. “You’re wearing it.” She noted, and watched as his head snapped to her, eyes moving from the knotted strings to her face.

“Well we are friends, aren’t we?” He replied like it was a silly observation, shrugging half-heartedly but something brewed in her chest as he joined her, getting his things out for the essay they were about to write. It was something her young self wouldn’t be able to recognize, but it was similar to when her mother smiled at her in the morning, or how her father kissed her hair before leaving for work.

Her older self would know, oh yes, and that older mature young lady would call it love.

Three: The Teasing

Year: Third

“No.” Draco’s voice burst out as she hovered a very reactive ingredient over the cauldron, the potion brewing inside just the right temperature for him to add the alligator heart, dropping a few chunks inside. She grimaced in disgust.

“I was joking.” She then insisted.

“No you weren’t.” He instantly said, looking at her as a way to say “try me”.

She snorted, cutting up an herb he gave her. “I wasn’t actually gonna do it.” She tried to convince, yet he wouldn’t take her excuses, shaking his head.

“Yes you would; then we would end up like Seamus.” Draco responded and she chuckled, looking down at the herbs again so she failed to notice the soft smile on his lips.

“Got a friend, Malfoy? Who’s the lucky person?” Pansy’s voice suddenly broke out, and, the two Slytherins turning to her, saw her long skinny finger pointing at Draco’s wrist, a teasing glint on her face. Draco scowled at her, shooting her daggers with his grey eyes.

“Shut up Parkinson.” He spat, and she shut right up, cheeks flushing. “Not like you have any friends, bet you wish you did, don’t you?”

Pansy’s eyes glossed over but neither of them seemed to take care to it, yet the girl felt a small, very small I tell you, peck of empathy.

Pansy dismissed herself from the classroom right then, crying her eyes out.

The girl turned to Draco. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, ya know.” She whispered. She saw him look at her.

“Yeah I did. Surprised she didn’t say anything about yours.” He said softly, nudging her wrist that had the thread on it.

The girl scoffed quietly. “I’m a girl, it’s normal for us to have silly jewelry on.”

Draco’s pale eyebrow shot up. “‘Silly jewelry’?” He quoted. “So our friendship is silly now?”

The girl felt a pinch of regret hit her. She quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He still had an absence of a frown on his lips, but he believed the reassurance that she provided when she gave him a kind apologetic smile.

“Good.” She heard him mutter, most likely for her to not hear, but she thanked Merlin her ears picked up on it.

Four: The Admiring

Year: Forth

The Divination book was open in front of her, propped up against her bag that was lazily thrown on the table moments prior. The usual presence of Draco wasn’t met, since she was keeping herself busy while he attended Quidditch practice. The sun was still shining, though it was evening and after supper, through the green see-through curtains.

The Professor wanted them to write predictions on how their future would go, and all she came up with was that she would “experience a heart warming moment” and that “something she dearly loved would break”.

Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly, and just when she about decided to start making them up, the Common Room entrance opened, a certain platinum blonde coming into view, broomstick hung over his shoulder. His face was twisted with exhaustion, yet once his eyes met hers she saw a different expression in his eyes, relief perhaps, for she often didn’t know how to read his eyes, despite them being friends for four years.

He blooped down across from her, next to her bag so he was still in sight. His hand was now dug into his hair, eyes fluttering but he still was able to look at her. She stared longer than she should’ve, but the sight was too warming to her chest, watching his tired eyes gaze upon hers with such softness no one would ever be able to see but her.

She had her right arm on the table, flipping through the pages of the book with her other hand.

“Divination?” Draco asked, peering over at the work she had done. She nodded, and at that moment she yawn came over her.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m about to start making it up at this point.”

Draco chuckled, reaching up and lazily rubbing his eye. “Agreed; kinda stupid really.”

She nodded once again, starting to get too tired to talk. She scanned the page that was open in front of her, spotting the sentence “you will witness a break up between two strangers” and thought that was good enough. The other predictions spoke to her but this one didn’t seem to do such, for she was at that point picking random ones out to write down. She was focused on writing, so such so that she didn’t notice Draco lay his arm down, close to her hand but the skin wasn’t close enough to brush. She also didn’t notice his grey eyes moving from his wrist to hers, the matching thread being admired scanned with his eyes.

She looked up them, feeling his finger tips brush her robe sleeve, and she met his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing only to curve even deeper than before when he quickly responded, a little too quickly.

“Nothing.” He said shortly, taking his arm back. She held a confused expression but didn’t pry on the subject.

“Can we go to bed now?” He asked abruptly, trying to change the topic of conversation. She hummed, packing up her now finished work and putting it in her bag. She stood up, about to grab the bag when Draco beat her to it, his pale hand gripping the strap.

“Thanks.” She muttered, suddenly feeling a small flush appear over her cheeks.

“For what?” He asked, confused, like he didn’t know he just did a kind deed.

She scoffed at how oblivious he was. “For carrying my bag. You don’t have to do that.”

It was his turn to scoff, lips twitching in slight annoyance. “Well we are friends, aren’t we?”

Five: The Breaking

Year: Fifth

The Hogwarts Express seemed to vibrate underneath her, the engine coming to life as it was ready to ride on. Everyone was excited for the upcoming year, happiness flooding their features and chests.

She, however, grew worried when she didn’t have the usual company of her friend, not having seeing him yet. She didn’t spot him in the platform or while she was walking along the hallways of the train, going to their usual compartment. She was thinking he went with his other friends, perhaps he wanted to catch up with them.

But she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, since he always at least met her before each year, in the same seats on the same train in the same compartment. Why was it different this year?

She looked out the window, miraculously thinking maybe he was running along the train’s side, yelling for it to stop so he could catch up. But of course that wouldn’t happen since the boy was always on time, so he must be on the train, just not with her.

The compartment door opened abruptly, causing her head to snap in the direction of the noise. Draco stood there, in a black suit, black tie, and black shoes. He strolled over to the seat and sat across from her, leaning his hands on the table in front of him. This all happened just in time as the train started churning, wheels turning and gaining speed as it headed off to the school.

“Where have you been?” She asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

“I was looking for something.” He answered simply, looking a little irritated.

“For what, exactly?” She asked, getting annoyed as well, the irritation brewing in her chest as he once again left her with no answers.

“I was looking for this.” He said sharply. He had slapped something on the table for her to see, the green thread immediately recognizable between his fingers. It was the same as it has always been, dirty as it went through the years but the knots stayed true. The only thing was that the bottom was broken, the knot becoming undone.

“Can’t wear it if it’s broken, right?”

She was half listening, still gazing at the strings that were on the table. She grabbed it gently between her fingers, caressing it like a baby and analyzed the damage.

“It fell off on my way here.” He explained, kind of annoyed that it did such thing at such an inconvenient time.

“I can fix it.” She said quietly, surprised he still possessed it. “I just can’t believe you still have it.”

“What, you don’t have yours?” He asked, looking a little hurt beneath the annoyance that she’s so surprised at that occurrence.

“Of course I do,” she started, and missed his eyes going to her arm to see if it was there, and she was telling the truth. “I just didn’t think you’d-“

Draco groaned, rubbing his head with his hand and looking at the window, grey eyes reflecting the sun’s warmth. “We are friends, aren’t we? Honestly…”

She looked down at the bracelet, the knots worn down and dirty, but the meaning stood true. She didn’t know what it was, but somehow her mind went back to her Forth Year, working on her Divination homework, and writing down “something she dearly loved would break.”

She supposed her made up predictions weren’t made up after all.

Six: The Decision

Year: Sixth

“This is stupid.” Draco’s voice blurted shortly, looking down at the homework in front of him, the essay’s words seeming to combine in his mind, creating an annoying jumble of ink.

“I know, but Slughorn insisted.” She reminded, causing his silver eyes to roll in the back of his head. He quill lazily sat on his hands, twirling it mindlessly out of boredom.

She noticed his robe sleeve rolled up at the action, wrist muscles twitching and moving as his fingers worked the quill.

The bracelet made of thread was not only repaired but still sitting on his wrist as good as ever, the green shining the meaning of it. Just looking at his made the feeling of her own on her skin a lot more noticeable, heart warming at the sight.

“Do you want me to make you a new one?” She asked, and when he turned to her she gestured to the strands that were getting older by the day.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply, displaying large amounts of confusion. “New one? Certainly not.” He replied. “This one’s just fine; don’t know what you’d think that, really.”

She smiled soft but it was unsure. “You sure? Cause I was thinking about making myself a new one.”

Draco scoffed but looked a little frustrated. “Scared of a little dirt?”

“No.” She replied. Draco then nodded towards her wrist.

“Then it stays. Mine’s as old as yours.”

Seven: The Pulling

Year: Seventh

The air was musty, ash seeping the air, suffocating the lungs of beings who breathed it in. Of course no one cared at the moment; the air pollution the last thing on their minds. The living breathing representation of evil was standing in front of them, laughing like what was happening was his dream come true. Because, realistically, it was. Deaths, damage, emotional and physical, destruction, all of it was part of his dream. To end it all and face the boy who lived, and all for what. Just so he can kill the boy who he was trying to murder ever since he was a baby?

It wasn’t that the girl was paying much attention as the living evil spoke, too busy staring at the ground that inc held healthy green grass, grass that her and Draco used to pick at while they complained about classes they had that day. Or any day for that matter. Sometimes his long skinny fingers would dig into her sides, wiggling until he heard the sound of her laughter, something he may never hear again because of the cold voice calling him.

His mother. His father. The living evil.

He stepped forward, ready to leave the cruelty of his peers and the burning stares he just knew where there. His head swam with so many emotions but he didn’t have time to look them through, just focusing on walking to the other side, the other side where evil doings were being performed. The other side that he didn’t have a choice but to be on.

He was gonna go, he really was, despite the soft tug he felt on his wrist, and, looking down, saw her index finger hooked underneath the thread of his bracelet as she pulled, the knots begging him to stay along with the maker of them. He met her eyes despite the emotions crashing his rib cage, threatening to get to his heart, but he held the gaze all the same.

“Stay.” She said softly, eyes swirling, knowing all those years with him weren’t for nothing. She didn’t last all those times with him as a child or teenager just for him to walk away.

“Why.” He muttered back, voice dry as ever so much so that he felt like his throat was filled with sand and he was speaking through the tiny rocks. She answered with a small smile, something so small making him plant his feet on the ground, making him stay away from the living evil on the other side….making him have a choice.

“Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”

[ryescapades]

❝ [ expert third-wheeler ] ╰┈➤ of the same thread (kaiju no. 8)

— ii. apparently intruding on your dates with hoshina is one of your brother's favorite past times.

genre/warning: narumi gen x lil sis!reader, bf!hoshina soshiro, fluff a/n: wet and soggy stray sewer cat narumi up for adoption (affectionate) mini series masterlist

the first time it happened, you didn't think much of it.

it wasn't often that you and your boyfriend get to spend some time together with how tachikawa and the ariake maritime base being a good two hours away, more or less.

the only time that's possible is whenever hoshina is tasked to visit the first division due to the recent events involving the anti-no.9 conference and the making of his numbers weapon suit.

you're beyond grateful, really. even just the lingering eye contacts during formal meetings are enough to satisfy your soshiro-deprived self for some time, at least. take all you can get, you'd compromised with yourself. you couldn't be too picky in this line of work, after all.

hence, every time you were given the chance to finally sit down and properly have some quality time with hoshina, you'd planned on milking every loving second of it. in the world where only the two of you exist, you feel like nothing bad could ever happen.

"have you always had fangs, or have i just not been paying attention? wait, who am i kidding? my attention is too valuable to be paid on you, fox eyes."

okay, maybe you spoke too soon.

"didn't think we'd be having a third party today. and here i thought i agreed to a lunch date, not a family bonding time." hoshina hummed, shrugging off the earlier comment about him. swallowing a bite of rice, you let ouf a huff. "it is a date. that was just my inner demon talking."

irritated at the lack of attention, narumi clicked his tongue. "hey, stop being childish! i'm literally sitting right here!" he chided, snapping his chopsticks towards your boyfriend as you deadpanned at your brother. "speak for yourself. and you're not even supposed to be here, gen. did you run away from vice-captain hasegawa again?" you shot back, grabbing the game console your brother had brought along and smacking him with it, which earned you a pained yelp.

"ya know this can be considered as a breach of privacy, no? although this is a temporary space, you're here in my office without my permission, captain narumi." hoshina chuckled, leaning back against his seat behind the desk.

your brother snickered on the chair he had pulled up beside yours in front of the said desk. "exactly what you said, buddy. i'm a captain, so i can do whatever i want in a subordinate's office."

technically that's power abuse, you thought as you quietly eat your lunch, deciding to let the two men verbally argue back and forth about whatever it was they found unpleasing about the other.

oh well. surely this was a one time thing, right? your brother couldn't— shouldn't be bothered to disturb you and your boyfriend every single time... right?

∘₊✧─────────────✧₊∘

or so you thought.

the second time it happened was when you were on one of your most romantic nights ever; you were stargazing with your beloved soshiro. and in the night sky they were shining so bright, as if whatever deities above had painted them so vividly upon the most perfect of black canvases.

at that time you genuinely believed nothing could ever interfere with how the night was turning out.

if only you didn't agree to accompany your brother on one of his many game nights. though it might've been partially your fault that you didn't specify which night he could pick. and unfortunately for you, date night seemed to be the perfect choice for gen.

you clicked your tongue in annoyance when your phone dinged for the nth time. "don't ya want to check that?" soshiro laughed, clearly amused at how distraught you looked.

you shook your head, taking out the device before putting it on dnd. "it's just gen. he wants me to play games with him," you grunted. "right now?" your boyfriend asked, which you nodded at. he contemplated for a moment, before turning to you with a feline grin. "say you're comin' over,"

you almost choke on your saliva. "what?" you squeaked. soshiro stated the same thing, causing your eyebrows to raise even higher. "are you sure? we're on a date, soshiro. which we rarely get to do these days," you remarked.

the man sitting beside you hummed, the slants of his eyes giving him the ever so crafty image. "technically, it can still be one if i'm there too," he stated, smirking.

and that was how you found yourself in gen's room, watching your brother and boyfriend go at it on the former's bs5 as they sat on the laid out futon while you made yourself comfortable at gen's work chair, the sound of a two-player fighting game filling the room.

"dammit, dammit! yeah, take that, bowl-cut bastard! wait, shit— NOOO!!" the big red KO appeared on gen's side of the screen, causing you to sigh almost pitifully.

"wanna go again? i can try goin' easy on ya this time," soshiro quipped, making the man in question grit his teeth. "okay, why did i agree to this again?! why did you bring him here, kid?!" gen snapped his head towards you, pointing an accusing finger at your direction.

you threw him an innocent smile. "you asked for a game buddy, right? i just gave you one on a silver platter, nii-chan. i'm considering this as compensation for crashing my date with soshiro by the way," you drawled, lazily spinning around in the chair. at that point, you'd have been convinced that you grew up with a grumpy cat as a brother with how ferally ruffled he looked.

gen blanched in disgust, "eugh, hate it when you say his name in front of my face. you owe me a new figurine for this," he muttered. "you're a sore loser, aint'cha, captain?" your boyfriend piped in, not bothering to hide how entertained he was from this whole situation. gen sent him a death glare before he angrily plopped his ass back down, picking up the controller that he had hurled away during his outburst.

"alright, you're on, fox eyes!" he sneered before the two of them start another game, leaving you to once again enjoy the spectacle that was narumi gen losing rounds upon rounds of video games to soshiro (he did win some but you just couldn't ignore the significant difference between his victory and defeat scores).

guess a crashed date wasn't such a bad thing sometimes...

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[dixons-sunshine]

All The Love | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Daryl loved tucking his daughter into bed. It was the perfect time for him to bond with her on a deeper level. While reading to her, she tells him something he hadn't heard from her yet, making him very emotional.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.1k.

A/n: Based on this post by @louifaith. This was pretty rushed because I'm tired and have a small headache, but I hope you like this nonetheless!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“And as the weddin' bells chimed, the prince and his bride walked down the aisle, hand in hand, wavin' to the people who had come from far and wide to witness the unification of their love. As the happy couple descended down the grand staircase, the former king watched his son, notin' the happy smile on his face, and knew that the future king had made the right decision; he had chosen love above everythin' else, and tha' was wha's important.”

“What's a wedding, Daddy?” Hazel questioned, sleepily gazing up at Daryl through half lidded eyes.

Daryl looked up from the book and gave his four-year old daughter a small smile, reaching forward to gently push the hair away from her face. “A weddin' is somethin' tha' two people who love each other very much plan. S'so tha' they can make a promise to always stay with each other, so tha' their friends and family can see 'em pledge their love to one another.”

“Like you and Mama?”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yer mama and I didn't have a proper weddin'. We only had a weddin' between us in our bedroom. Our family found out 'bout it the next day.”

Hazel nodded slowly, trying to fully grasp what her father was telling her. “So you don't have to have a wedding if you don't want to?”

Daryl nodded. “Exactly.”

“What about me, Daddy?” Hazel asked again, staring up at Daryl in curiosity. “Do I have to plan a wedding for me one day?.”

“Hopefully not,” Daryl muttered to himself, before shaking his head and plastering another smile onto his face. “Only if ya want, Hazelnut. S'not mandatory.” He reached for the covers and drew it over her body, tucking her in tightly. “Now c'mon, ya lil' gremlin. S'time fer bed.”

Daryl leaned forward to place a kiss on Hazel's forehead. However, Hazel took Daryl's face in her small, chubby hands and rubbed the tip of her nose against his for a nose kiss. Daryl smiled and returned the small, tender gesture, waiting for Hazel to pull back first.

“I love you, Daddy,” Hazel told Daryl, finally letting go of his face to rest her head back against her pillow.

Daryl froze for a moment, not believing his ears, before snapping out of it and sending her a small smile. “I love ya more, Hazelnut. Try and get some rest, alrigh'? We'll play again in the mornin'.”

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Hazel greeted Daryl sleepily, turning over on her side and closing her eyes.

“Nigh', Hazelnut.”

Daryl stood up from the bed and walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. In a daze, Daryl walked through the short hallway and into the room he shared with you. Once inside, he closed the door and stood unmoving for a few moments, simply staring ahead at where you sat.

Looking up from your book, you sent Daryl a small, inviting smile. However, your smile vanished when you saw the tears that prickled at the corners of your husband's eyes, your heart dropping at the sight.

“Baby, what's wrong?” you asked hurriedly, setting your book aside.

Daryl's eyes met yours. He shook his head, desperately trying to gather his racing thoughts. “I dun'—Hazel, she—she—”

“Come here,” you cut him off softly, motioning for him to come closer.

Without needing any further persuading, Daryl moved forward and practically collapsed on top of you, but he made sure not to crush you under his body weight. He settled himself against you, comfortably resting his head on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, bringing one hand to gently thread through his hair. That's all it took for Daryl to fully break down.

You pressed a tender kiss to the top of his head, whispering sweet, reassuring nothings into his hair. Daryl cried into your shirt, gripping it tightly to try and anchor himself back down to reality. His mind was racing at a million miles a second, with no sign of stopping in the near future.

“Shh, it's okay, Baby. I got you. I got you,” you whispered sweetly, holding your husband tightly.

A few minutes passed with you holding the man that you loved, allowing him to cry into your shirt for reasons you didn't know of yet. When Daryl finally managed to calm his cries down to sniffles, you gently scratched his scalp, gazing down at him in concern.

“Daryl—”

“M'alrigh',” Daryl hiccupped, burying his head deeper into your chest. “I jus' overreacted, s'all.”

“No, none of that,” you chastised, clicking your tongue in dissatisfaction. “What's got you so upset, love?”

“M'not upset,” Daryl corrected you, lifting his head to gaze up into your eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Then what is it?” you gently urged, cupping your husband's cheek in your hand. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I jus'... Hazel told me she loves me. She ain't ever explicitly told me tha' before,” Daryl explained, his grip on your shirt tightening. “S'so surreal to me. It was unexpected. I can't believe tha' someone so perfect, someone tha' I helped make, can love me, yet she does. She told me tha' herself.”

“Baby,” you laughed softly, a smile on your face. “Of course she loves you. Our daughter adores you, Daryl. She might love you more than she loves me, but I'm okay with that. You deserve all the love in the world, and we're gonna give it to you. We'll always love you.”

Daryl could feel a lump form in his throat again, but he swallowed it down. He smiled at you softly, his heart swelling with love. He let one of his hands drift down to your stomach, rubbing at the small bump that had started to form there.

“Even this lil' bean?” Daryl asked rhetorically, sending you a playful smile. He knew exactly what your answer was going to be, but it was always nice to have that little bit of reassurance.

You rolled your eyes affectionately and nodded. “Especially this little bean. It's impossible not to love you, Daryl. You're amazing.”

“Nah, yer the amazin' one. Ya and our lil' girl.” Daryl stopped for a beat before continuing. “I love ya, peach.”

You smiled fondly. “I love you too, Daryl. More than you can ever know.”

Daryl lowered his head down to your stomach, placing a soft kiss over the clothed skin. “And I love ya too, lil' one. I can't wait to meet ya.”

[etclouie]

kinktober day nine - breeding kink 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: after visiting your family with your boyfriend, he can’t help but want to start your own family together (Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, smut with almost no plot, poorly written smut, reader and oscar have had the baby talk before (but it’s not explicitly mentioned here), mentioned that reader visits family and cares for a cousins baby (briefly), oscar calls reader princess, reader tells oscar to get her pregnant, lmk if i missed any

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 554

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: oscar is the definition of having a breeding kink imo 

prev day | next day kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

you’d recently visited your family with Oscar, finally meeting one of your cousins new babies and having held the small child most of your stay; it had Oscar’s mind reeling with thoughts. 

so when you got back to his place, and he had you sprawled out below him again, he had only one thing on his mind. 

starting a family with you. 

deep down, he knew that’s what he wanted for a little while now, but the sight of your holding your cousins baby and the way you cared for them, it clarified everything for him. 

the way you were moaning beneath him, and scratching across his back had him plummeting closer to his release already. 

his lips pressed against your jaw, nipping across the skin as his hips continued against you. the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, mixed with your moans. both sounds music to his ears. 

the soft gold of his chain dangling from around his neck and sitting flush against your exposed chest, the cold pendant making a shiver run down your spine and your walls flutter around him. 

“fuck, princess. wanna get you pregnant, please?”

his lips pressed against the shell of your ear while his voice fell deeper, a rigid groan falling from his lips as your walls fluttered tighter around him. 

dropping his head to your shoulder as his thrusts started to grow sloppy, continuing to scratch across his back while tilting your head to whisper into his ear. 

“get me pregnant Osc”

another groan fell from his lips, needier this time. his cock throbbing inside you and his arms bracing himself around your head, his forehead resting against yours and eyes locking with yours. 

smiling softly up at him and nodding in silent approval before he could even murmur out his next words, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips and his hips stuttering again. 

“need you to cum first, shit- please sweetheart. cum f’me and i’ll fill you up”

he was desperate, hanging on by a thread and putting off his climax to push you over the edge first.

his body shifting to move his left hand between your bodies, the pad of his thumb pressing tight circles against your clit and pulling moans from deep in your chest. mouth hung agape and cunt gripping him tighter, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and holding him against you. 

the coil in your belly tightening before snapping with another sloppy thrust of his hips, cumming with a cry of his name as your walls spasmed around him.

“fuck, there we go. that’s my girl. gonna fill you up, get you pregnant, make sure it sticks”

he groaned out, words mushing together and his face burying into the crook of your neck. legs spread loosely as he tumbled over the edge after you, his moans needy and desperate while he pumped you full of his cum. spurt after spurt of white warmth coating your walls, while his body slumped flush against yours. 

his kisses softer in comparison to his previous thrusts, stilling inside you as you milked him for every last drop. hearing him mumble out against your sweat slicked skin, and tilting your head to meet his lust filled gaze. 

“gonna keep you in this bed till it takes, ya hear?”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[ronearoundblindly]

For the every Cevans character, what is each one’s favorite position in bed? 😏😆

Fac-i-na-ting. I have categorized them into similar positions and then broken down the specifics or variations. No, I do not know the actual names of a lot of positions. I use the terms 'top' and 'bottom' but NOT in a BDSM way.

Sincerely, MINORS DNI. Warnings for very smutty descriptions of each of these characters 'in the act' and just...do I need to warn you about how much I was sweating during this???

'Top' Positions

Curtis Everett - Jimmy Dobyne - Steve Rogers - Ransom Drysdale - [Bucky Barnes]

Curtis is a cramped-quarters kind of lover, like you have been fucked up the bed until you and he are pressed against that headboard like a pretzel on a baking sheet. Gahdamn, he is intense. He threads an arm beneath you to make sure you're as close as possible. He grinds his pelvis into you, loving how his balls slap your ass. He likes it real sweaty, but he'll help you clean up in the shower, too. Dirty boi. 😮‍💨 We need him.

Jimmy and Ransom like you bent over but in different ways. Ransom just enjoys doggie-style. He feels awkward with too much eye contact and doesn't have to worry about that from behind. Jimmy is exceptionally good at spontaneously pressing you back or down onto a counter or the couch or perhaps a fence outside. 😳 He's oddly into fucking with at least some clothes on, but not because he doesn't like your body. He has a thing for choosing sex over chores or other obligations, so he and you are dressed for doing whatever else. It's just a little naughtier that way.

Steve is--I'm sure we can all agree--a missionary man. He looooves that eye contact Ran is so afraid of, but BUT! Steve's also a most considerate gentleman. He worries about putting too much of his weight on you, so his actual favorite position in pinning you against a wall (or mirror or window, etc) because he can lean into you without fear. He also enjoys that you get very, very excited for him to hold you up like that. You wrap around his neck and kiss him like it's your purpose in life. You get handsy, and that's about his favorite part...

[I know you said CE characters, nonnie, but Bucky just sneaks in, sorry!]

Ngl, Bucky took me the longest to figure out, and I'm not entirely sure he has a true 'favorite,' something he likes a good deal more than other positions. I have, however, landed on Bucky going braindead and gooey inside when he gets you in a mating press. There's, uh, a symbolism to wanting him and his cum inside you for as long as possible that hits all the right buttons to shut him down to the rest of the world for a while. He likes to sit back afterward and grip your knees to keep you right there until some drips out as you clench around nothing. You aren't empty though.

[Why. the fuck. does Bucky always get so 🥵 in these?]

'Bottom' Positions

Johnny Storm - Jake Jensen - Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd lets himself be lazy. He legitimately tucks his hands behind his head like he's at the beach and taunts you to work harder. He's so used to ordering people around and being quite active. Unless he has some aggression/frustration to work through, Lloyd needs to not be bothered with effort. It's your turn. Put your back into it.

Jake lets you control everything. Let's be fair: Jake is just happy to be here, ya know? He gets to be naked, he gets to see you naked, and he is going to come no matter what. Use him to your heart's content. Don't try telling him not to touch you (like an order or a deprivation game) because he can't stop himself. Every other order or request, he's game for, but on his back offers the best view of you--and technically, his glasses fog less 😬.

Johnny straight up loves when you ride him. He controls everything from below, though, because it's not actually about you taking over. He loves guiding your hips. He loves fucking up into you. He loves already being prone to fall asleep faster. [Go on, try to tell me I'm wrong. ::listens:: ::crickets:: Yeah, that's what I thought.] It's a win-win-win situation. All around cannot fail to please him. Johnny is definitely the type to assume that what feels good to him feels as good for his partner.

'Side' Positions

James Mace - Ari Levinson

Mace technically changes positions so much it maybe doesn't count as 'side,' but he's so playful, I'll allow it. His favorite sex, in general, is filled with natural ebbs and flows, quicker frantic times as well as soft doting and sweet, blissful enjoyment. A position that puts either him and you a hair's breath away from taking over is ideal. He wants to enjoy your company as much as your body. Mace can do both of those things in many, many different positions.

[Mace is quickly becoming a sleeper-fave of mine, my gawd. He's 😘🤌]

Finally, if Ari doesn't scream "wants to wake up fucking you," I don't know who does. He's spooning you, or coiled together with you someway, and just...ready when he sees you first thing in the morning--or in the middle of the night. Why bother moving much? He'll lift that leg up for you. He'll wrap around you to cup your breasts, play with your nipples, and rub your clit. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Doesn't have to do with the position you're in, per se, but Ari also gruffly whispers other shit he'd like to do to you in your ear. It's vaguely easier to do that when your heads are on the same pillow, just saying.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would..." Asks; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I successfully scheduled a post! Look at me, learning and shit...

[7s3ven]

UR MY LOVER. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Camp Half-Blood has its very own band to entertain themselves. Most of the campers aren’t sure where they get their electricity for their instruments but one thing they are certain about is that the substitute lead singer and lead guitarist definitely have a thing for each other.

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth. The girl in my story has always been you.”

A/N : Luke seems like he’d be in a band

Warning : sex references, some details differ from the og books, modern references

—

Y/N has been lounging in the sun on her rickety front porch when something, or rather someone, blocked the rays of warmth. She groaned, lowering her sunglasses to get a better look at who was bothering her.

“What?” She grumbled to the mischievous son of Hermes, Luke. It’s not like she hated him, quite the opposite to be honest. His presence was a breath of fresh air in her stressful days at Camp Half-Blood. But she was sleep-deprived and in desperate need of a rest. Luke merely smiled down at her, unthreatened by her hostile tone.

“Hey, little bolt.” He uttered, crouching down beside her to almost match her height. Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing her glasses back up with her middle finger. “So as you know, Chiron is letting us form a band. The only problem is I have an electric guitar and, you know, it needs electricity. And there’s not enough ‘round here. Personally, I think we’re lucky to have a daughter of Zeus.”

Y/N scoffed. “No.” She quickly retorted, already guessing what he was going to ask her. “I won’t power your stupid performances.”

“What? Why would I ask that? I was going to ask you if you wanted a quicky backstage.” Luke sarcastically joked, his lips curving into a cheeky smirk. Y/N’s lips curled into an unamused sneer as she set her sharp gaze on the boy beside her. “Help me out this one time, babe.”

“Ew,” She furrowed her eyebrows in disgust, “Don’t call me that.”

“Come on, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna stop until you agree. I won’t ever ask for this favor again, pudding.” His nicknames were becoming increasingly worse and Y/N's ears were practically bleeding. Y/N cringed and covered her ears, desperately wanting to bang her head into a wall to drown his voice out. Her last thread was Luke calling her kitty.

“Okay!” She sat up, flinging her glasses at him. Luke effortlessly caught them, looking down at the intricate rims. He traced his fingers over the gems embedded in the sides. They shined in the light and small rainbows reflected off them. “Just stop calling me those horrid names!” She exclaimed, slapping his shoulder.

He grinned, “Deal. Practice is tonight, 8 pm sharp. Don’t be late.” He tossed Y/N’s glasses back at her and quickly stood up. “See ya, princess.”

Y/N wanted to hurl a rock at him for that stupid pet name but Luke was already running away, bellowing out a laugh as he tilted his head back in amusement. “I’m going to electrocute you, Luke! I hope your guitar backfires!” She screamed, earning another chuckle from Luke.

“Yo, guys.” He burst into his cabin, grinning at Chris and Charles who were positioned on his bed, lazily lying down. “Y/N’s in. Now we just need a lead singer. Charles, how’s convincing Silena going?”

Charles pressed his lips into a thin line. “You know she has stage fright.” He uttered, referring to his girlfriend, “Maybe if I mentioned that Y/N will be there then she’ll go? I think she has a girl crush on Y/N.” Charles let out a low chortle.

Everyone liked Y/N, apart from when she was deprived of sleep and grumpy. She was like a fire ready to flare up, stalking its way through the high grass.

“So, how did you convince Y/N? I heard from Annabeth that she was in a particularly bad mood today.” Chris uttered, chuckling. "Did you promise her sex or something?" Luke shrugged as Charles chucked a can of Sprite his way.

He pulled back the tab and the can opened with a pop and fizz. “Nah. A part of me wishes, though. I might get some if I did. But, I have my ways.” He retorted, grinning. “Band practice is at eight. Charles, do your best to get Silena on board because I can’t deal with Clarisse as lead singer.” Luke sighed, taking a huge gulp from his can. Chris chuckled while Charles silently nodded in agreement.

“She is rather hard to deal with.” Charles muttered, his voice almost a whisper in fear that Clarisse would overhear him.

Luke would have asked Y/N to be the band’s lead singer but he knew she wasn’t happy with having to power up his guitar. She’d rather jump in water than agree to sing and she hated water. It probably had something to do with the fact that she could create electricity with her bare hands.

Water and lightning never went well together.

Luke was buzzing with excitement as he jogged towards an abandoned cabin Chiron had agreed to let them use for practice. He opened the creaky door, surprised to see Y/N already sitting on a dusty couch.

“I already hate it here.” She said, turning to face him. He cracked a grin.

“Not enough sleep last night, huh?”

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “I barely got any. Some idiots were up all night, singing their hearts out to Olivia Rodrigo.” Luke was ashamed to admit that those idiots were him, Chris, and the Stoll brothers. “I mean, how much of a loser do you have to be to scream your heart out to jealousy?”

“I don’t know.” Luke shrugged, sitting next to her. Dust surrounded the air around him and he coughed, fanning it away with his hand. His actions made Y/N lightly chuckle. “Maybe they related to the lyrics. Unlike you, perfect girl.”

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not perfect. I’m far from it.” Luke quickly turned to face her, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“How come? You’re pretty and smart and you’ve got Zeus as your dad. Come on, you hit the jackpot on that one.” Luke grinned and the corners of Y/N’s lips twitched.

“You think I’m perfect?” She asked, confused. She quietly laughed, giving Luke an almost judging stare. “I don’t even have my life together. How can I be perfect?”

“Most of us don’t have our lives together. Look at me, I’m well over sixteen now and I’m starting a band at camp because there’s nothing to do ‘round here. And I’m also sitting in a dodgy looking cabin with dust everywhere. But hey, at least I have a pretty girl with me.”

Y/N stared at Luke for a second before she huffed in amusement. “You’re a no-good flirt, Luke.” She playfully shoved him.

“You seem in a better mood.” He smiled, proud of himself.

“You had nothing to do with it, I can assure you.” She rolled her eyes and turned her head, spotting Chris, Silena, and Charles walking towards the cabin. “Looks like your band mates are here.” She uttered, sitting up.

“Hey man, what’s up!” Chris joyfully greeted Luke while Charles’ approach was more quiet. Silena smiled at Luke and waved at Y/N with a bright smile.

“Alright, so everybody’s here. We got Charles on drums, Chris as back up guitar, me as lead and sub vocals, and Silena as vocals.” Luke loudly clapped his hands as away to earn everybody’s attention.

“Does that make me your back-up generator then?” Y/N butted in.

“Yeah. Hold this, darling.” Luke handed her a cord that connected to his guitar and she begrudgingly took it.

“No more names.” She warned, sending a small current to shock Luke. He yelped, taken aback, all while Y/N smirked. She stayed true to her words to electrocute Luke if he ever annoyed her.

Y/N lay on the couch, clutching onto the cord and aimlessly staring at the ceiling. The sound of Charles’ loud drums and Silena’s soft voice merged with the loud ringing in Y/N’s ears. She kept her eyes fixed on a certain spot, completely dazed until Luke pressed a cold can to her face.

“We’re taking a break.” He said, offering her a drink. She arched an eyebrow.

“Why are you giving me one?” She questioned, sitting up and taking it away.

Luke shrugged. “I mean, you are powering up my guitar. You deserve a little thanks.”

Y/N merely stared at Luke before cracking open the can, taking a small sip. “I trust you haven’t drugged this?”

Luke lightly snorted. “I have no purpose to put coke in your drink.” He held out his hand, silently asking for sip. Y/N shoved the can into his arms.

“So, when did you get the idea of forming a band?” She questioned, tapping her foot against the wooden floor. She glanced at Luke who smiled, a strange wishful look in his gaze.

“I’ve always loved music.” He admitted, “And being a demigod, you don’t exactly have a lot of chances. I did play at one festival, though… and it was amazing. But then I got attacked by a monster.” Luke chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in amusement. “It was still the best moment of my life. And I want that kind of joy back.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it back. What’s it like playing the guitar?” She quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. Luke grinned, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth.

“Amazing. You wanna learn?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I can hardly hold a guitar correctly, let alone play it, Luke.”

“Come on, pretty. I’ll show ya.”

“I need two hands to play. But I also need to power up the guitar. How do you suppose that’ll work?”

“You’ll figure out a way. You always do.”

That’s how Y/N ended up holding the plug with Luke sitting almost directly behind her, guiding her hands. He smiled as Y/N struggled, her fingers never quite reaching the right chords.

A twig snapped and Chris walked into the cabin, wiping away sweat with the back of his hand. “Man, it is hot outside- Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt something?” Chris paused, staring the pair.

“No.” Y/N quickly answered. They practically jumped away from each other. She handed Luke his guitar, clearing her throat.

“I should get going.” She announced to nobody in particular. She briefly smiled at the two boys before spinning around on her heels, quickly walking away.

“Hey, pretty, wait!” Luke stood up in a hurry but Y/N was already out the door and walking past the tall trees.

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes as she waltzed out of her cabin, almost screaming when she saw Luke leaned up against the wall.

He grinned and greeted her, tipping an imaginary hat. “Hey, pretty. You up for charging my guitar today? I need to practice my riffs.”

Y/N thickly gulped, looking for any sign of Chris or Charles or even Silena, who she knew was busy with teaching kids archery. “… Alone?” She questioned after a long pause.

“Yeah. Does that bother you? I can practice another time.” Luke offered.

The warm sun bore down on Y/N as she stared at Luke. “No… it’s not a problem. When do you want to practice?”

Luke stood up straight, folding his arms over his chest. He grinned down at Y/N. “Right now if you’re free, pretty. But it looks like you just woke up. Bad sleep?”

“Hardly any at all. Again.” Y/N retorted, sour and harsh. She silently followed Luke to the cabin, raising her eyes in surprise when she saw the lack of dust. “You cleaned it?” She questioned, craning her head to get a better look.

“Yup. The dust was getting to my eyes.” Luke uttered. Y/N hummed in quiet approval.

“You’d make a good house husband. You can clean, you can charm your way through everything, and you can play guitar. What’s next? Cooking?”

Luke smugly smirked, “I’m actually great with a pan, pretty. I’ll make you cinnamon toast someday. Or do you prefer pancakes?”

“Food is food.” She shrugged. “So, how’s the guitar going?” She fiddled with the cord, “I always wanted to learn piano. I tried it a few times but it never stuck.”

“I think you’d look charming playing the piano, pretty.” He flirtatiously smiled, twirling a strand of Y/N’s H/C hair around his finger. Y/N stiffened, her cheeks practically glowing red.

“Are you going to practice or stare at me until we grow eighty?” Y/N muttered, leaning away from Luke.

“I think I’m going to continue staring.” He retorted, winking at her. Y/N looked away, lightly frowning.

“So, what songs are you going to sing?”

“Silena’s gonna be doing most of the vocal work but there’s one song I’ll be singing.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, silently telling him to continue because as much as she tried to dislike being here with Luke, she was curious. Luke plucked at the guitar strings, humming out a quiet melody.

“Wait.” Y/N articulated, “You aren’t going to sing to me, right? I don’t want a Barbie moment.”

“Too bad.” Luke replied, already getting ready to sing. Y/N softly groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was expecting Luke’s voice to be like nails on a chalkboard, a horrible sound overall, but the lyrics slipped past his lips and Y/N found herself not entirely hating it.

“Are you seriously singing Elvis Presley?” She said over the sound of Luke’s voice and guitar. He merely grinned, nodding his head.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you?” Luke smiled, his gaze never faltering. He was staring straight at Y/N as he meticulously played complicated chords. She felt uncomfortable under his eyes and a part of her wanted to sink into the couch. “This is one of your favourite songs, is it not?” Luke asked as he continued strumming.

“How would you know that, Luke?”

“Trust me, pretty. I hear you singing with the Apollo kids. As grumpy as you are without sleep sometimes, you sure sound cheerful when you’re singing Elvis. Join in on the singing, won’t ya?”

“Like a river flows. Surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be.” Luke swayed, waiting for Y/N to join. She begrudgingly did.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help…falling in love with you.” They sang in unison. Y/N’s eyes were focused straight ahead of her while Luke’s ran over her soft features and lips that had been tinted with lipstick.

“Like a river flows. Surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be.”

Luke couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as Y/N’s voice drowned out his own and he stopped singing. She was far too lost in the music to notice.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help falling in love with you.” Y/N turned back to Luke, faltering when she saw how he was staring at her. Like she was his whole world or like she had planted the beautiful stars in the sky.

“For I can't help… falling in love with you.” Luke sang the iconic last line, grinning. His face was much closer to Y/N’s than he anticipated, causing her to flinch. She didn’t shuffle away, though.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look… pretty?” Luke chuckled at how his sentence and his nickname for Y/N clashed. The apples of her cheeks turned bright pink and she didn’t sneer at him this time. She only stared at him with eyes that were vulnerable lest Luke give her another compliment.

The door to the haughty shack slammed open, Charles entering. He spluttered in surprise when he saw Y/N and Luke. “Sorry… I can leave and come back… if you want…”

Y/N stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her shirt. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.” She didn’t spare Luke another glance as she hurried out, flustered.

“Were you two about to kiss?” Charles questioned. Luke frustratingly groaned, holding his face in his head.

“I liked to think we were going to.”

Y/N stood in the side lines of the stage, holding Luke’s cord while staring at a clipboard she held in her other hand. It was the list of songs Luke had given her to keep her occupied.

i, Lovesick by Laufey - sung by Silena

ii, Venus by Regina Song - sung by Silena

iii, Can’t help falling in love by Elvis - sung by Luke

The second song fit the daughter of Aphrodite. Y/N glanced at the stage, her eyes immediately finding Luke. He was helping Charles set up his drums. Luke seemed to sense her eyes on him and he lifted his head, smirking.

Y/N quickly diverted her gaze as she heard Luke jog towards her. “Hey, pretty.” He greeted her, “Silena’s vocals can only take so much singing so are you good taking over the last song?”

“No.” Y/N answered but Luke didn’t hear her, or he chose to ignore her.

“Thanks, pretty. I owe you one. Love ya!” He ran off while Y/N mentally cursed at him. She angrily looked at the list, her eyes slightly softening when she saw the song.

iv, Lover (remix) by Taylor Swift + Shawn Mendes

It was one of her favourite songs. She could remember listening to it when she wasn’t aware of her demigod status, always wishing for a love as pure as Jack and Rose’s. Despite being swamped by complicated emotions, she was still a teenage girl secretly wishing for a teen romance like the books and movies and songs suggested.

The makeshift concert started with a short light show conducted by an Iris kid and that’s when the band finally stepped out. The demigod crowd cheered, clapping their hands. The Aphrodite girls were holding signs up for Silena and Luke quietly chuckled as his Hermes brothers yelled a little too loudly.

Silena’s voice was beautiful as she sang and Y/N found herself shrinking back. How could she compete with that? She didn’t even want to sing. She was fine sitting backstage with nothing but a clipboard to stare at.

At least Luke seemed to be enjoying himself and all the attention he was gaining from the girls. Y/N felt her chest tighten. It’s not like she had feelings for Luke… did she? In this moment, Y/N wanted nothing more than to be an Aphrodite kid because at least they could sense love.

Luke sang the melody to the Elvis Presley song with as much tenderness as he did in the cabin, occasionally glancing over at Y/N to see her mouthing the words.

“Pretty, you’re up.” Luke said as the band hurried back stage for a small break. He took the guitar cord from Y/N, plugging it into some sort of machine that she didn’t recognise. “Drink some water so you don’t get dehydrated. You know the words, don’t ya?”

Y/N could only nod, too confused to process everything at once. “What about your guitar?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t ya worry.” Luke ushered her up the steps onto the brightly lit stage. “Alright guys, we’re back. Did ya miss us? Of course you did. Anyway, Silena’s swamped so we’ve got Y/N singing. Don’t worry, folks, she has a great voice when she’s feeling nice.”

Luke cheekily grinned as he adjusted his headset microphone while Y/N glared at him.

“Anyway, this song will be a duet between me and Y/N. Last song for the night, hope you guys enjoy!”

The music started playing immediately, causing Y/N to stiffen. She locked eyes with Luke, who was standing a meter away from her, nodding his head to the beat.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January. And this is our place, we make the rules.” She hesitatingly sang, earning a few hollers from the Apollo cabin. “And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear. Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my…” The vivid image of Y/N and Luke singing together, their faces millimetres apart, haunted Y/N. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she glanced at Luke once more only to see that he was already smiling at her.

“Lover.” Luke mouthed as Y/N sang.

Luke tapped his foot, slowly playing his guitar. “We could light a bunch of candles and dance around the kitchen, baby. Pictures of when we were young would hang on the wall. We would sit on the stoop. I'll sing love songs to you when we're eighty.”

“See, I finally got you now, honey, I won't let you fall.” They lulled out in unison. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever, ah. Take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my lover.” Their voices blended together perfectly and the crowd found themselves swaying to the music, clearly noticing the romantic tension between Luke and Y/N.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand. I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.” Y/N nervously clasped her hands around her mic, her breath shuddering when Luke beamed at her.

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth. The girl in my story has always been you.” Luke strummed the guitar cords as he walked towards Y/N, “I’d go down with the Titanic, it’s true. For you, lover.”

The music ended there, despite the song still having another chorus left. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at Luke. “You had enough electricity this whole time?” She whispered away from the mic.

“Yeah. I just wanted to spend time with you, pretty. I like you, Y/N. More than I should admit because my fan girls will be a little upset.” Luke chuckled as he jogged off stage, Y/N following close behind.

“So I used my electricity for nothing? You could’ve just asked me to accompany you!” Y/N slapped his shoulder.

“Oh, come on, pretty. Be realistic. You wouldn’t have come if I merely asked. Even if I confessed to you then and there.”

“And what exactly do you like about me?”

“Everything, Y/N. The way your eyes shine when you read, the way you smile when you sing Elvis songs, and the way you have freckles that line up in a square, like constellations on your face. The truth is, you could break my heart into tiny little pieces and I’d still pick them up for you to hold. You like rainbows, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“I adore you, Y/N. And it doesn’t matter that sometimes our worlds are coloured with different hues. Because when the colours bleed into each other, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Apart from your face and soul, of course.”

“What if the colour turns out to be an ugly yellow?”

“You’re ruining the mood, pretty.”

Y/N clicked her tongue as she tilted forward, gingerly pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s lips. He gently gasped.

“Your mics is on, by the way.” She whispered, “Just thought you’d like to know.”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

[wystiix]

"love is sour grapes"

❥ pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader ❥ synopsis: It's a rainy night and you're snoozing. Arlecchino just watches over you while thinking about your time together, and how far you both had come. ❥ cw: n/a ❥ additional tags: second pov perspective, reader is not traveler ❥ word count: 804 ❥ notes: hi hi so like ya i haven't played her story quest, but i wanted to write this dedicated to my bae (vel)!! i hope this isn't too inaccurate.. erm yeah. i was cooking this shit at 2am in the morning so take what you get. ❥ taglist: @honkai-freak (for u bbg) @mikashisus @tragedy-of-commons

According to the books, love is an intense feeling of deep affection. It is often portrayed as a positive feeling, from the butterflies fluttering in your stomach to the overall warmth that spreads throughout your entire being.

It can elevate you to the heights of bliss. At the same time, it can cut deeply enough to leave scars.

Arlecchino has experienced the latter. Her heart, if it still could be called that, had long been hardened like stone. What is love, if not a knife carefully pressed to her heart? She had avoided it for so long. The thought, the concept itself—it never dawned upon her.

Yet, here she was.

You slept soundly, snuggling in the sheets as you took off to the land of nod. Arlecchino simply observed you on the other side of the bed, watching your chest rise and fall to the sound of pouring rain outside. 

How would one describe such a complex feeling? Why did she feel all tingly whenever she thought of you?

She leaned in and brushed a few strands of your hair to the side, showing your peaceful, sleeping face. A slight prickle met her fingers and a warmth seeped through her chest as a result. There it was again.

It was almost hard to fathom—and pathetic—that people would go to any lengths for the sake of their beloved. However, now she understood. Now that you were here, she’d willingly hurl herself into a pit of barbed wires if you desired.

The faint warmth of your body coaxed her closer, unable to pull her gaze away from yours. Her eyes traced over your sleeping form, memorising the shape of your face that she so adored. She felt so… alive. Alive in a way that almost scared her.

What does it truly mean to deserve love? Is it something that must be earned like a hard-earned gift, or does it simply come to you?

Honestly, she wasn't sure herself. She didn't know why you had chosen… her out of all the people in Teyvat. Arlecchino didn't have to work for your love, no? She had already earned it according to you.

Deserving. That word left a bitter taste in her mouth. What did she do to deserve this peace, this unwavering affection? What did she do to deserve you at all? Nothing, she thought. And yet, you still chose her. Despite the amount of blood stains she had and the rough calluses on her hands, you still intertwined your fingers with hers, bringing them to your lips and pressing a tender kiss on each one.

Is love a blessing or a burden?

It was like a sour grape, once thought too sharp to swallow. Though, the grape turned out to be much sweeter than expected the more she chewed.

Perhaps, she'd be willing to bite the pain as well.

She scooted closer to you, her breath warm against your skin as she gently brushed her fingertips across your face. You stirred in your sleep, instinctively reaching out for her warmth, and she let you find her.

Silence enveloped the dark room as Arlecchino lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The rain pattering against the window mirrored the steady beat of your heart, grounding her in the present at this very moment. She stroked your hair lovingly, relishing the softness of it.

Soft, like fragile threads of silk. Her mind raced. That leaves her to ponder: what if she hurt you? What if the same hands of a Harbinger that had caused so much pain to others couldn’t hold you as gently as they should?

“I don’t deserve you.”

You didn’t seem to hear her. She felt you shift slightly once again, a soft mumble escaping your lips as your hand blindly reached out and curled around her fingers. Her fingers grazed your cheek again, gentler than the first touch as if she feared you’d slip away if she wasn’t careful. She pressed a fleeting kiss on your hair.

Arlecchino wanted to say so many things to you. How thankful she really was for someone to walk into her life.

She swallowed hard.

“Even then, I'm quite content it was you, I…” she paused, processing her thoughts.

The words were foreign on her tongue. She'd never spoken them before. However, the truth radiated from within.

“I love you.” 

The words slipped out, softer than she intended, but they felt right. They didn't have a bitter, sour aftertaste to it. It rolled off her tongue so, so easily. She wasn’t sure if you heard. If you didn’t… perhaps that was for the best.

She didn't deserve you. She never would.

But with the way you held onto her like an anchor, she knew one thing for certain—she would never let go of the one she cherished ever again.

[creamflix]

PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 5: finale]

summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.

content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, mentions of depression and alcoholism, love triangle, angst, slow-burn,eventual smut, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto,uraume, choso kamo, gojo satoru, yuuji itadori) - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman! choso fanfic

word count: 11.7k words

notes: with that, persephone comes to an end. thank you all so much for loving persephone! reader and business tycoon! sukuna <3 i hope this was the closure you were looking for. me personally i would have wanted to end it with a 4some with reader, suguru, uraume and sukuna /hj please let me know how you liked it in the comments below, i'd love to hear your thoughts - please grill me, i need the criticism. regarding the side-fics, i will be relasing them as lengthier oneshots. chapters don't really work for me, and i think it would be much more fun to read it in one go! i'll be putting out an announcement for tag list[s] soon enough <3.

masterlist

the rowdy murmur of voices and occasional bursts of laughter echoed faintly in the background as suguru pushed his way through the crowd. gojo’s teasing voice called after him, “yo suguru, where ya goin’? it’s just getting good in here!” suguru barely acknowledged him, stepping out into the quiet hallway and answering your call.

"hey," he said, voice soft but tired.

"hey," you replied, nerves laced in every syllable.

"miss me already?" suguru teased, but his heart wasn’t in it. there was something under the surface, a tension he couldn’t shake.

"yeah, i do." you paused, your throat tightening. "suguru… did you see the tabloid articles?"

there was a beat of silence, and then a deep sigh from his end. "yeah, i saw them. kinda hard not to. gojo thought it was funny as hell. i... i didn’t, obviously." his voice was flat, but you could hear the regret threaded in his words.

“suguru, you know i love you,” you began, feeling the weight of what you were about to say settle heavily on your chest.

"but?" suguru interrupted, his tone sharper than before.

"how did you —"

"just say it, vino," he urged, voice almost breaking. "i’ll handle it."

your breath caught in your throat, but you pushed through. "i need time for me. i need time to focus on myself. i can’t keep finding myself running back and forth between you two. being put on the spotlight like this… it’s not something i want."

there was a low, bitter laugh on the other end of the line. "so, what? you want to focus on yourself… but with sukuna? is that what you’re saying?" his frustration simmered just beneath the surface, restrained but there.

"that is not what i said," you shot back, feeling the rising heat of your own emotions.

"it sure sounds like that," he said, his voice a little more forceful now. "i don’t get it, y/n. i’ve been the one that helped you through everything, and now you’re basically saying you want to go back to that? have you lost your mind?"

"suguru, that’s a low blow, and you know it," you bit out, trying to keep your voice steady. "that happened four years ago —"

"but everyone, including yourself, can still see its effects today!" he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

you winced, his words digging into the fragile wounds you’d been trying to heal for years. "how i chose to handle the situation is entirely on me!" your voice wavered, the rawness of the past seeping into your tone. "i was a fucking pussy for drowning myself in booze, using it as an escape when i could’ve just… fixed my fucking life."

the line went quiet for a moment. you could hear him breathing, could almost picture him rubbing his temples like he always did when things got too overwhelming.

"...i understand," suguru finally said, his voice low, almost resigned.

"sugu —"

"no, y/n," he interrupted, his tone gentler now, but laced with exhaustion. "i think… i’ll spend an extra couple of days here. with gojo, i mean. i need a break."

"suguru, please —"

there was a long, suffocating pause. you thought he’d disconnected the call until you heard him sigh again, softer this time. "you should go," he said, and his words pierced through you like a cold wind. "to him, i mean."

"suguru…" you whispered, the ache in your chest blooming like a bruise.

"y/n, i’m fine." but his voice betrayed him, trembling ever so slightly. "your words… they sting, but they make sense. you need time for yourself. i get it. i just —" he broke off, struggling to gather his thoughts. "i hope you find what you’re looking for."

his voice cracked, and your heart shattered.

"i love you," he said, the words heavy with finality. "god, i love you. and that’s the best mistake i’ve ever made."

before you could respond, the call disconnected. the silence that followed was deafening, pressing down on you, leaving you feeling hollow and more confused than ever.

but in suguru’s words, in his acceptance, there was also release — something you both had desperately needed but hadn’t known how to ask for. now, you had no choice but to confront the feelings you had been running from. and the terrifying part? there was no going back from here.

you stand in your apartment, your phone clutched tightly in your hand, the weight of the conversation with suguru still heavy in your chest. your mind races, replaying his words, but another name keeps surfacing, drowning out everything else: sukuna.

without thinking, your fingers dial a number, and uraume’s voice crackles through the line.

“miss l/n?” they answer, their tone professional, but there's an edge of concern. “is everything okay?”

you hesitate, biting your lip before blurting, “where’s sukuna?”

there’s a pause on the other end. “ryomen? he’s… i’m not sure. he left the office earlier.”

“what do you mean you’re not sure?” your voice rises, frustration bubbling to the surface. “why didn’t you tell me? why didn’t you —”

uraume’s calm voice interrupts your panic. “miss l/n, i didn’t know. he booked a private jet on his own. i only found out about it moments ago. he didn’t give any explanation.”

your heart pounds in your chest, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a vice. “so, where is he now? where did he go?”

“he’s on his way to the airport.”

“the airport?!” you practically yell, the shock coursing through you like a jolt of electricity. “why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“i… i didn’t know,” uraume admits, their voice steady but tinged with a rare uncertainty. “he didn’t inform me of this.”

you exhale sharply, pacing the length of your apartment as your mind races. “okay, okay… i’ll meet you there. we need to stop him.”

“i’ll head there immediately,” uraume replies, their voice soft but firm. “don’t worry, miss l/n. we’ll figure this out.”

“don’t — just… i’ll be there in twenty.” you hang up, your heart hammering in your chest as you scramble for your keys.

your legs feel like lead as you sprint through the airport, dodging passengers, security, anyone in your way. you can feel your heartbeat in your throat, the weight of your desperation pushing you forward. the moment you passed through the security gate, it was all a blur — uraume must have worked their magic, because no one tried to stop you. you didn’t even have to explain yourself. no time for explanations, no time for anything except reaching him.

as you break into the open air of the runway, the roaring engines of sukuna’s private jet make everything around you tremble. the wind whips against your skin, tearing at your clothes, but it doesn’t matter. nothing matters except the sight of him — sukuna — climbing the steps to the jet, his broad frame silhouetted against the dull gray sky.

"sukuna!" you scream, your voice raw, your chest aching. the sound of the engines should drown you out, but somehow, as if attuned to your very soul, he hears you. he always hears you.

he pauses, his head turning sharply in your direction, and for a split second, the world seems to stop. his gaze locks onto yours, his red eyes wide with disbelief. you see the flicker of something unguarded, something vulnerable, as he stands frozen in place.

and then, for the first time in what feels like forever, he runs. he runs. down the ramp, missing a step, his usually precise and calculated movements thrown off as he rushes toward you. it’s so uncharacteristic of him — so unlike the sukuna you know — but in this moment, it’s all you’ve ever needed.

you meet him halfway, breathless, your chest heaving as you stop in front of him. the wind roars around you, the plane's wings creating a deafening backdrop, but everything else seems silent. it’s just the two of you. his eyes, stormy and conflicted, bore into yours, and for a moment, neither of you speak.

he looks at you like he doesn’t know whether to yell, hug, or kiss you, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides.

"you’re bad for me," he finally rasps, his voice strained. it’s a confession, not an accusation. his brows knit together, and there’s something in his eyes — fear, anger, something raw. “you ruin me.”

“i know,” you whisper back, the wind biting at your skin, but your words are steady. “i know, ‘kuna.”

his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breath heavy like he’s on the verge of something. "we shouldn’t be doing this," he growls, his voice deep and rough, like he's trying to convince himself as much as you. his eyes flash with a dark emotion, flickering between anger and longing. "this isn’t — we can’t."

you step closer, your heart pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. “push me away then.” your voice is soft but firm, your gaze never leaving his.

he stares at you, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists. his jaw clenches, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. but when he opens his mouth to say something, nothing comes out. his lips part, and you see the conflict raging inside him. the way his eyes flicker between the plane behind him and your face, the way his body tenses as if he’s preparing to do something — anything — other than admit the truth.

"i can’t," he finally breathes, his voice breaking. his hands, trembling, reach for you but stop just short, as if touching you might shatter whatever’s left of him. there’s a roughness in his tone, a vulnerability that you rarely see.

you close the distance, taking his hands into yours. they’re cold, shaking slightly as you pull them towards you. “then don’t.”

he pulls you into him, his hands gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, his body warm despite the coldness around you. his forehead presses against yours, and you feel his breath on your lips. for a moment, neither of you say anything, the closeness too overwhelming.

“this is a mistake,” he whispers, his voice low and pained. “you make me… feel things i shouldn’t. things that don’t make sense. i was…. fine before you.”

but you can hear the lie in his words, the way his voice wavers. you press your hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thudding of his heart, and you know — you know he’s just as lost in this as you are.

“it doesn’t have to make sense,” you whisper back. “it just has to be real.”

he exhales sharply, and for a moment, you feel his resolve crumble. his lips ghost over yours, hesitating, almost as if he’s giving you one last chance to walk away. but neither of you move.

and then he kisses you. hard. like he’s drowning and you’re his only breath. his grip tightens around you, desperate, rough, like he can’t get close enough. the kiss is bruising, intense, a war between need and restraint.

“you… drive me insane,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with emotion. “and i hate you for it.” but the way he’s holding you, the way he kisses you again, says the exact opposite.

“i don’t care,” you whisper, breathless as you kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “i don’t care, ‘kuna.”

he pulls you into him again, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, his forehead resting against yours as you both stand there, panting, holding onto each other like you might both fall apart if you let go.

“you better not run from me again,” you murmur, your voice cracking slightly.

he huffs a bitter laugh, his eyes closed as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “you’re the only one i’ll ever come back for.”

and before you knew it, a wedding hall sparkled with warm light, reflecting off chandeliers and casting a soft glow on the sea of guests. everyone was dressed to the nines, but the only thing that seemed to matter was the pair standing at the altar. you, in a stunning white dress, felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulders when sukuna’s rough hands slipped the wedding ring onto your finger. he looked handsome in his black tuxedo, the sharp lines of his face softening for once, as he gazed at you with an expression you’d never thought you’d see on him — vulnerability. yuuji, standing as one of the best men, was barely holding it together. his cheeks were puffed out as he bit down hard, trying to stifle his sobs, while choso gave him a nudge, as if to remind him to stay strong. but even choso couldn’t stop the trembling in his own bottom lip as sukuna leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss.

the hall exploded into cheers and applause, filling the air with laughter and joy. you’re now officially y/n l/n ryomen, and as you stood there in sukuna's arms, you couldn’t imagine it any other way. the warmth of his body pressed against yours felt like home — something you thought you’d never feel after everything you’d been through.

as the evening carried on, the wedding party only grew livelier. the music shifted into something slower, signaling the couple’s dance. you and sukuna stood in the middle of the floor, all eyes on you as you swayed gently to the music. sukuna’s arms were strong around you, and his grip tightened on your waist like he was afraid to let go, but his expression remained neutral, as if he was suppressing the surge of emotion within him.

“you’re doing it wrong,” you whispered, a small smile playing at your lips.

“shut up,” he grunted, though his lips twitched, betraying the beginnings of a smile. “just keep dancing.”

off to the side of the hall, uraume stood watching the scene unfold. their eyes, usually so cold, had softened just a little as they observed how sukuna held you, as if you were the most precious thing in his world. beside them, suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, though his usual smug demeanor had all but vanished.

“you’ll never tell her, will you,” uraume said quietly, their eyes still on you and sukuna as you danced.

suguru exhaled softly, looking down at the floor before lifting his gaze to meet uraume’s. “she knows,” he replied, his voice low, almost tired.

“and yet you’re letting her walk away?”

“you’re letting it happen on your end too, you know,” suguru countered, his tone tinged with a hint of bitterness.

uraume’s brows furrowed slightly. “that’s not fair of you to say, geto.”

“is anything in life really fair?” suguru’s voice was laced with a resigned sadness, the weight of his words heavy in the air between them. he shifted his gaze back to you, a flicker of something unspoken in his dark eyes as he watched you laugh softly into sukuna’s chest. it was a sound he loved hearing, but one that wasn’t meant for him.

uraume didn’t respond, instead focusing on the way sukuna held you. “he really loves her,” they murmured, almost to themselves.

suguru nodded slightly, his jaw tightening. “yeah… he does.”

there was a moment of silence, the only sound being the soft music from the dance floor and the murmur of guests chatting around them. uraume broke the silence, their voice softer than usual. “it’s better this way, for both of them.”

“maybe,” suguru replied, his eyes never leaving you. “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

uraume didn’t push further, knowing suguru’s heart wasn’t something easily mended, and instead shifted their gaze back to the happy couple. the wedding may have been a celebration, but to the two watching from the sidelines, it was a bittersweet reminder of what could never be.

as the dance ended and the crowd erupted into applause again, sukuna leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you whispered something only he could hear. he smiled — a rare, genuine smile — as he tugged you closer to him, the world around you fading away.

across the room, suguru turned away, letting the noise of the wedding drown out the quiet ache in his chest.

the sound of applause and laughter faded into the background as you pulled away from sukuna after the dance. his lips brushed your forehead softly, his hand lingering on your waist as he watched you with that familiar intensity. "go talk to him," he murmured, his voice gruff but knowing.

you gave him a grateful smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “i’ll be back,” you promised, before turning toward where suguru stood, half-hidden in the shadows near the back of the hall.

he had been watching you the entire time. his arms were crossed, a distant smile tugging at his lips as you approached, but there was something unmistakably bittersweet in his eyes. the smile didn’t quite reach them, as if he was holding back everything he truly felt, tucked safely behind that calm exterior.

“hey,” you said softly, stopping a few steps in front of him.

“hey,” he replied, his voice gentle. the weight of all the unspoken words between you both hung in the air. he uncrossed his arms, standing a bit straighter, but there was a sense of quiet acceptance in his posture. he didn’t need to say it; you both knew what this moment was.

"so..." you started, feeling the warmth of the room seep into your skin, but somehow it didn't reach the ache forming in your chest. "i just wanted to thank you."

he raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a soft smile. “thank me? what for?”

“for everything,” you said, stepping closer. “for being there, for helping me through all the hard times. i don’t think i could’ve done it without you. persephone itself wouldn’t have been there without you.”

he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “you give me too much credit. you’ve always had the strength. i just helped you see it.” his voice cracked ever so slightly, betraying the emotions he kept buried deep inside.

you took another step closer, so close now you could feel his presence like a comforting warmth. “suguru, you mean more to me than you realize. i wouldn’t be standing here right now, happy, if it wasn’t for you.”

his eyes softened, but the sadness remained. “i’m just glad you're happy, vino.” his nickname for you felt heavy with nostalgia, a remnant of the time when he was your closest confidant, your anchor.

"i am happy," you whispered, your eyes searching his. "but… you’re part of that happiness, too. i need you to know that.”

he held your gaze for a moment, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions — regret, love, and something deeper, something that had always remained unspoken between the two of you. "i know," he said quietly. "i know. and i promise i’m okay with it. really." his voice was soft, but firm, as if he were reassuring not only you but himself.

there was a long pause, filled with the quiet sounds of the wedding behind you, but neither of you moved. finally, suguru sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i always knew you’d end up with him,” he admitted, his tone light, though his eyes carried a hint of sadness. “he’s what you need.”

“i don’t want you to think you’re losing me,” you said, your voice breaking slightly as you reached for his hand. "because you’re not."

he hesitated for a moment, then intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly. “i’m not losing you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “because i’ll always be here for you. you know that, right?”

you nodded, your thumb gently brushing over his knuckles. "always," you echoed.

suguru took a deep breath, his expression softening as he looked down at your hands, your pinkies brushing against each other. and then, slowly, deliberately, he hooked his pinky with yours, a silent promise that transcended words.

“a promise,” he murmured, his voice carrying a quiet resolve. “no matter what happens, we’re in this together. you and me.”

your heart clenched at the simple, yet profound gesture. a promise, not of love in the romantic sense, but of loyalty, of friendship, of everything the two of you had built over the years. no matter how things changed, no matter how life pulled you in different directions, you would always have this.

“a promise,” you whispered back, your pinkies interlocking tightly, sealing the bond you both knew would never fade.

suguru smiled, and this time, it reached his eyes. "i’m happy for you," he said, his voice low but steady. "you deserve this, all of it."

you squeezed his hand gently, holding on for just a little longer. "thank you, suguru. for everything."

his grip tightened, just for a moment, before he let go, the weight of the world lifting off both your shoulders. "go on," he said, nodding toward sukuna, who stood waiting for you at the other side of the room, his gaze fixed on the two of you.

you smiled softly at suguru, giving his hand one last squeeze before turning away. as you walked back to sukuna, you knew that whatever the future held, you and suguru would always share this unbreakable bond. a promise, made with intertwined pinkies and hearts too full of memories to ever forget.

and in the background, as suguru watched you walk away, he felt at peace for the first time in a long time. your happiness was his happiness, even if it meant you were with someone else.

while you spoke quietly with suguru, sukuna found himself in a conversation he didn’t anticipate: a one-on-one with your mother. she was elegant and composed, warm yet casual – a far cry from woman at your new year’s party. she was standing just at the edge of the reception area, sipping on champagne, her eyes fixed on you and suguru.

“mrs. l/n,” sukuna greeted, a surprising softness to his voice as he approached. there was respect in his posture, and though sukuna had built a reputation for being intimidating, he knew when to tread carefully.

she turned toward him, smiling slightly. “ryomen.” her voice was calm, unreadable. she had a presence that reminded sukuna a lot of you — strong, resilient, but there was a gentle warmth beneath the surface. "come to make your case?”

sukuna’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “i think i’ve already made it.”

your mother raised an eyebrow. “have you now? a man like you, with a past like yours, has a lot to prove when it comes to loving my daughter.”

sukuna didn’t flinch. he’d been expecting this. “i do,” he agreed, his voice steady. “and i’m not going to pretend like i haven’t screwed things up in the past. but she knows me — better than anyone. she sees what i’ve become.”

her gaze lingered on him for a moment, thoughtful, weighing. “she does,” she finally said. “and she’s always been a good judge of character. but i’m not worried about her judgment. i’m worried about yours.”

sukuna’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “i won’t ever let her down again,” he promised. “i know what she’s been through, and i know what i put her through. but i’ve changed. elysium...everything i’ve done, it’s for her.”

your mother took another sip of her champagne, her eyes softening as she studied him. “i know,” she said quietly, and sukuna’s eyes widened just slightly in surprise. “i’ve seen the changes in you. starting elysium? helping her get back on her feet? it’s not something the old sukuna would’ve done. i’ve seen the way you’ve fought for her.”

sukuna nodded, a rare flicker of vulnerability flashing across his features. “she saved me too,” he admitted, almost reluctantly. “in more ways than i can count. i owe her my life, and i’ll spend the rest of it making sure she never doubts that.”

your mother was silent for a moment, and then she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “you sound like a man in love.”

“i am.” sukuna’s response was instant, no hesitation in his voice. “i love her more than anything.”

“that’s good to hear,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “because that’s what she deserves. a man who will put her first, who will take care of her, and who will cherish her.”

“i will,” sukuna promised, and there was a fierce determination in his voice. “i’ll protect her. always.”

your mother’s gaze softened further, and she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “then i have no doubts,” she said. “you’ve earned her trust, and now...you have mine.”

sukuna swallowed hard, feeling a strange sense of gratitude well up inside him. “thank you,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “i won’t let you down.”

she nodded, her expression warm, almost motherly. “you’d better not. because if you do, i’ll be the first one at your door.”

sukuna let out a low, appreciative chuckle. “understood, mrs. l/n.”

your mother smiled softly. “you know,” she began, her tone lightening just slightly, “you and i...we both know she’s strong. but even the strongest people need someone to lean on. take care of her, ryomen. don’t just protect her — make her happy.”

he looked at her, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “that’s all i want,” he said. “to keep her mine. to keep her happy.”

there was a moment of quiet understanding between them, and for the first time, sukuna felt the weight of this responsibility in a way he hadn’t before. he wasn’t just marrying you; he was being entrusted with your entire life, your heart, your happiness. and somehow, in that moment, standing there with your mother, he felt worthy of it.

as the sounds of laughter and music filled the hall once more, sukuna took a step back, a rare softness in his eyes. “i’ll make sure she knows every day,” he added, his voice lower now, more personal. “she’s everything to me. and i’ll spend my life proving that.”

your mother smiled once more, her eyes filled with the kind of warmth only a mother could have. “then i’m glad she has you,” she said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before turning back to the celebration. “welcome to the family, ryomen.”

and as she walked away, sukuna let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. it felt...right. for the first time, he wasn’t the ruthless, business tycoon. he was the man who would spend his life making you happy, keeping you his. he was entrusted with a responsibility that felt almost sacred, and for the first time, he truly believed he was worthy of it.

he turned his head, his eyes catching yours across the room as you held suguru’s hand in a quiet moment of friendship. a promise, not only to suguru, but to yourself, to your mother, to everyone in your life. and sukuna? he would be the man to keep it.

and with that, he allowed himself to feel something he hadn’t in years — a deep, all-consuming sense of peace.

while all the heartfelt conversations were happening elsewhere, yuuji, choso, and uraume were seated together at a table near the back of the reception hall. yuuji had a wide grin on his face, his eyes bright with excitement as he nudged choso with his elbow.

“so, big bro, you’re next in line, right?” yuuji teased, his grin only widening when he saw the unimpressed look on choso’s face.

choso scoffed, rolling his eyes. “please, i can’t even get a full night of sleep, and you’re talking about marriage?”

yuuji, ignoring the deflection, leaned in closer, whispering dramatically, “you’re not getting any younger, bro. you’ll be the one walking down the aisle next! i can feel it.”

“yeah, right,” choso snorted, flicking yuuji’s forehead in retaliation. “you should focus on getting that degree before you start acting like a grandpa, yuuji. you’ve got enough on your plate without playing cupid.”

uraume, who had been sitting quietly, observing the two brothers with their usual composed demeanor, let out an unexpected chuckle at choso’s remark. the sound of uraume laughing — a rare occurrence — caught both yuuji and choso off guard.

“uraume?” yuuji blinked, clearly surprised. “did you just laugh?”

uraume’s expression remained neutral, though their eyes sparkled slightly. “it’s just...you do have a tendency to take on more than you can handle, yuuji. perhaps choso is right. focus on one thing at a time.”

yuuji pouted, crossing his arms. “you guys are ganging up on me! what happened to wedding day joy? isn’t this supposed to be a celebration? and choso, come on, don’t act like you don’t want to settle down!”

choso raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “who said anything about settling down? you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

yuuji leaned forward, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. “so, no blind dates then? i mean, you’ve gotta be thinking about it, right? someone’s gotta sweep you off your feet, choso.”

choso shot him an incredulous look. “blind dates? seriously? i’m not interested in that kind of thing.”

yuuji, ever the instigator, pressed on, “oh, come on! you never know. what if someone amazing is just waiting out there for you? don’t tell me you’re going to be single forever.”

uraume, joining the conversation with their usual calm tone, added, “perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst idea. it’s not as if you’re without prospects.”

choso narrowed his eyes suspiciously at uraume. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’re dedicated, reliable,” uraume replied, their tone neutral but pointed. “qualities people find appealing in a partner.”

yuuji jumped in again, clearly enjoying himself. “see? even uraume agrees! and besides, you’d look great all dressed up for a date.”

choso sighed heavily, shaking his head. “this conversation is ridiculous.”

“no, it’s not!” yuuji protested, flashing him a grin. “in fact, i think it’s a great idea. i mean, there are tons of great girls out there. or guys, if that’s more your thing. you just need a little push.”

uraume, surprising them both again, said, “it wouldn’t hurt to consider it, choso. it’s not as though blind dates are binding.”

choso stared at uraume, slightly betrayed. “you too? i thought you were the reasonable one.”

yuuji chuckled, clapping his hands together. “it’s settled then! choso, you’re going on a blind date. we’ll make it happen.”

choso groaned, burying his face in his hands. “this is going to be a disaster.”

but even as he sighed, the corner of his lips twitched up, a small smile betraying his amusement. maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny part of him that didn’t hate the idea after all.

as the reception wound down and the soft buzz of laughter and conversation filled the air, sukuna stood at the center of the room, glass in hand, his piercing eyes scanning the crowd. he had never been one for sentimentality, never a man of soft words or tender moments. but tonight, with you by his side, his wife, and the closest people in his life surrounding him, he couldn’t help but feel something stir deep within. a sense of fulfillment. of family.

he cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the hum of the room. the murmurs died down, and everyone turned to face him, anticipation hanging in the air. the spotlight seemed to cast an almost softer glow around him as he raised his glass higher.

“i don’t do speeches,” he began, his usual gruffness tinged with something softer tonight, “so don’t expect this to be long.”

you stood by his side, smiling up at him, your hand resting gently on his arm. he caught your gaze for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at you — his wife. a title that still felt surreal in the most comforting way possible.

“but today’s a day for firsts, isn’t it?” he said, glancing around the room. “and… hell, i guess i have some things to say.”

his eyes moved to suguru, standing a few steps away with a drink in his hand. the man was quiet, his usual composed face betraying none of the swirling emotions underneath. but sukuna knew. he always knew. suguru, for all his frustration, was a brother in this strange, twisted way. there was a silent understanding between them, a recognition of what they both had — and didn’t have. sukuna nodded in his direction, subtle but meaningful.

“suguru,” sukuna’s voice was almost thoughtful, “you’ve been there for her, longer than i have. i know that. and as much as i hate to admit it, you’re a part of this too. you’re family.” suguru’s eyes flickered with surprise for a brief second, then a faint smile tugged at his lips. he raised his glass back to sukuna, silently acknowledging the unspoken truth between them.

then sukuna’s gaze shifted to yuuji, sitting at a table with choso and uraume, already smiling that bright, goofy smile that had melted through even sukuna’s cold exterior over the years. yuuji, the kid who without even trying, became one of the few people he cared for.

“and yuuji,” sukuna smirked slightly, “you’ve been annoying as hell, but you’re also one of the best things that’s happened to me.” yuuji’s eyes widened at the unexpected compliment, his grin growing even wider as he nodded enthusiastically, looking like he might burst into tears at any second. “you’ve made things… fun.”

next, choso — the quiet brother, always standing in the background, but never unnoticed. sukuna’s eyes met his, and the two of them shared a look of understanding. they were alike in many ways, silent protectors who spoke more with their actions than with words.

“choso,” sukuna said, his voice dropping just slightly, “you’ve been a steady hand in this chaos we call life. a brother in more ways than one. don’t let yuuji drag you into anything stupid.”

choso chuckled softly, shaking his head as he lifted his glass, his lips quirking into a rare smile. “i’ll try,” he muttered under his breath.

then there was uraume, standing stoically off to the side, watching the entire scene with their usual calm detachment. but sukuna knew better. uraume had been there from the beginning, loyal to a fault, and though they didn’t show it, he knew they cared deeply for him and you. they’d become more than just his right hand; they’d become a confidant, a guardian of his family.

“uraume,” sukuna said, his tone firm but warm, “you’ve always had my back. i don’t say this often, but thank you. for everything.” uraume’s gaze softened just slightly, their lips pressing into a thin line as they gave a small nod, no words needed between them.

then, sukuna’s eyes found yours again, and for a moment, the entire room faded into the background. it was just you and him. the woman who had turned his life upside down, who had dragged him into something so terrifying, so real, that he had no choice but to embrace it. love.

“and you,” sukuna said, his voice softening in a way that only you got to hear, “you’ve made me better, even when i didn’t want to be. i can’t promise that i’ll always be good at this. at… us. but i’ll try. i’ll always try for you.”

your heart swelled at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you squeezed his arm gently, whispering, “that’s all i need.”

finally, sukuna turned to your mother, who had been watching the entire scene with a knowing smile. she had always been wary of him, and rightfully so. but now, as she looked at him, there was something like approval in her eyes. sukuna met her gaze with a rare vulnerability, bowing his head slightly in respect.

“i know i’m not the son-in-law you imagined,” sukuna said, his voice gruff again but filled with sincerity, “but i’ll take care of her. of them. i swear it.”

your mother’s smile grew, and she raised her glass in return, her voice soft but firm. “i know you will, sukuna. you’ve proven that already.”

sukuna straightened, his chest swelling with a strange sense of pride. it wasn’t often he sought anyone’s approval, but hers meant something. it meant that he’d truly earned his place in your life, in your family.

he took a deep breath, looking around the room one last time, taking in the faces of the people who mattered most to him. “so, here’s to family,” he said, raising his glass high, his voice steady, “the one we’re born into, and the one we make.”

the room erupted into cheers, glasses clinking together as everyone raised their drinks in a toast. the warmth of the moment enveloped the space, a full-circle moment for everyone who had been part of the journey.

as the night went on, you and sukuna stole a quiet moment together, standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching your friends and family laughing and celebrating. sukuna wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, his lips brushing against your ear.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words so soft that only you could hear them.

you smiled, leaning into him as you whispered back, “i love you too.”

and as you stood there, surrounded by the people who had become your family, you realized that this — all of it — was exactly where you were meant to be.

as the night drew to a close, you and sukuna bid your final goodbyes to your guests. suguru gave you a lingering smile, squeezing your hand in reassurance as his pinky briefly locked with yours. yuuji’s eyes shimmered with happy tears as he waved you off enthusiastically, and choso smiled, nodding in your direction. uraume gave you a small, stiff bow — their way of showing warmth. sukuna grunted in his usual fashion, a goodbye only he could pull off with such weight behind it.

you walked together, hand in hand, toward the hotel, the stars shimmering above like they were celebrating the night alongside you. once inside, you gasped dramatically, your hand flying to your chest in mock surprise as you stepped into your hotel suite. the room was nothing short of breathtaking — pure opulence. tall, floor-to-ceiling windows gave a panoramic view of the city’s skyline, sparkling against the deep midnight blue of the night. the room itself was decorated in warm tones of gold and cream, plush sofas, thick velvet curtains, and a massive bed adorned with silk sheets that looked almost too perfect to touch. a bottle of champagne sat chilled on a nearby table, along with rose petals that scattered elegantly across the floor.

"wow," you breathed out, eyes wide as you took it all in, "uraume really pulled out all the stops, huh."

before you could say more, you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back into a firm, familiar chest. sukuna's low, gruff chuckle rumbled behind you as he hugged you tightly, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“uraume?” he muttered into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “woman, i’ll have you know i arranged this all by myself.” his voice was filled with a playful arrogance, and you couldn’t help but smile at the pride in his tone.

he shifted slightly, pressing his lips to your cheek in a soft, fleeting kiss before his teeth grazed your skin. “going to be spending the night with my wife,” he punctuated the title with a teasing nibble, and you couldn’t hold back the squeal that escaped your lips, laughter bubbling out of you as his grip tightened.

“sukuna!” you giggled, trying to wriggle free from his hold, but he wasn’t having it. with a mischievous glint in his eye, he scooped you up effortlessly, your legs kicking lightly in the air as he spun you around toward the bed.

“oh no, you’re not getting away that easily,” he smirked, carrying you over to the bed as you laughed uncontrollably in his arms. the playfulness, the warmth between you two, filled the room, making it feel less like a grand hotel suite and more like the cozy heart of your new life together.

as sukuna laid you down gently on the bed, you looked up at him, his smirk softening into something more tender, more real. for all his arrogance, all his sharp edges, tonight was a reminder that he was yours. and you were his.

“my wife,” he repeated, softer this time, brushing a strand of hair from your face before he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

you both fell back onto the bed, lying side by side in a quiet, comfortable silence. neither of you felt the need to rush into anything; just being there, together, was enough for now. staring up at the ceiling, you let out a small sigh, your fingers lightly grazing the silk sheets beneath you.

"so," you broke the silence, your voice soft, "i’ve been meaning to ask you about the tattoos on your face.”

sukuna turned his head slightly to glance at you, one brow raising in that signature way of his. “what about them?”

“well, i was just wondering... what’s the story behind them?”

he scoffed, rolling his eyes as if dismissing the question. “bad high school decision. don’t overthink it,” he muttered, his voice nonchalant.

you giggled, not entirely convinced by his answer, and that’s when something clicked in your head. you turned your face to him, curiosity in your eyes. “wait a minute… choso has a similar marking on his nose. is that connected, too?”

sukuna smirked, his gaze flicking to the ceiling again. “yeah, same thing. it’s a tradition of sorts. something we did back then. me, choso.. thought it’d make us look tough or whatever.”

“and did it?” you asked, teasingly.

“hell yeah,” he answered, though there was a playful glint in his eyes that told you he was amused by the memory.

you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, the sound filling the room. “so what other bad decisions did you make, mister tough guy?”

he turned to you again, this time with a sly smile on his lips. there was a brief pause before he replied, his voice lower, softer. “you.”

you blinked in surprise, and before you could react, he added with a smirk, “but you’re the best bad decision i’ve ever made.”

your heart fluttered at his words, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. you knew it was sukuna’s way of expressing something deeper — his own version of affection. there was something about how he framed it, how he spoke with such a bluntness that always left you feeling more seen, more known, than anyone else could make you feel.

you playfully nudged him with your elbow. “you’re such an idiot.”

he chuckled, a rare sound from him, before his hand found yours, interlocking your fingers as you both lay there, side by side. the silence that followed wasn’t awkward but peaceful, the two of you lost in thought, yet somehow connected in the most intimate of ways.

as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself smiling, your eyes growing heavier, feeling safe and loved. you had never imagined this life — the twists, the turns, the bad decisions that led you here. but lying next to sukuna, his hand in yours, you couldn’t help but think it was all worth it.

because sometimes, the best decisions come from the worst ones.

you burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the lavish hotel room as sukuna, ever the provocateur, leaned in closer, his body caging you against the soft pillows.

“if you tell me you’ve had sex with someone before me, i’ll be pissed off,” he declared, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

your eyes widened in mock shock, a playful grin spreading across your face. “sukuna!” you gasped, unable to suppress your laughter. “how could you even ask that?”

“what?” he replied, his voice smooth and mischievous. “just trying to gauge my competition here.”

you wriggled beneath him, your heart racing as his weight pressed gently against you. “there’s no competition! you’re the one i chose!”

“you better mean that,” he said, his expression turning momentarily serious, the playful glint in his eyes still dancing there. “because if you’ve got a whole list of guys i should be worried about —”

“i swear, it’s only ever been you,” you interrupted, your laughter subsiding as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity of your words hanging in the air between you. “i’m not even kidding.”

his lips curved into a smirk, a sense of triumph washing over him. “good. just remember that,” he said, leaning down, his breath warm against your skin. “you’re mine, and i’m not sharing.”

“not that i’d want to,” you murmured, your pulse quickening as his gaze bore into yours. the playful banter hung between you like a delicate thread, both of you enjoying the sweet tension that filled the air.

“smart choice,” he teased, and in a moment of spontaneity, he dipped his head to press a teasing kiss to your lips, his hands framing your face as he pulled back to gauge your reaction.

your cheeks flushed, the laughter from before transforming into something deeper, more intimate. “you’re such a dork,” you said, shaking your head at him, but there was no malice in your words — just affection.

“your dork,” he corrected, grinning. “and don’t forget it.”

sukuna shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you more intently. “you sure you want to continue on with this?” he asked, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine concern. “i don’t want to push you if you’re tired.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his unexpected display of care. “is that really you, ryomen sukuna, asking if i’m okay?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “i never took you for the caring type.”

he scoffed, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “don’t get used to it, woman. it’s just common courtesy,” he replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “besides, someone has to make sure you’re not passing out on me.”

you giggled, enjoying the banter as much as the moment itself. “common courtesy, huh? i didn’t realize you had such a soft spot.”

“soft spot?” he repeated, feigning offense as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “i’ll have you know that i’m a very tough guy.”

“sure you are,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes, leaning back against the pillows and crossing your arms. “but it’s nice to see this side of you. who knew you could be so… sweet?”

“don’t push it,” he warned, though the hint of a smile remained on his face, clearly enjoying the teasing. “you might just ruin my tough guy reputation.”

“oh, please,” you replied, grinning back at him. “you’ll always be the tough guy. this is just a little added bonus.”

“bonus, huh?” he mused, his expression shifting into something more serious for a moment. “well, just know that i can be tough when it counts. but for you? i can make an exception.”

your heart warmed at his words, a soft silence enveloping you both as you contemplated the depth behind them. sukuna’s gaze held yours, the playful edge now tinged with something deeper, and you could feel the shift in the air around you.

“so, what’s it gonna be?” he asked, breaking the silence with a hint of mischief. “are you ready to keep going, or do you need a nap?”

“i’m definitely ready,” you said, your voice steady and confident. “let’s see just how caring you can be, sukuna.”

he chuckled, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark. “challenge accepted.”

sukuna’s cocky facade didn’t quite match the awkwardness of his hands, the way his fingers grazed over your skin with hesitation, like he was trying to remember the motions. it was unlike him to be so uncertain, and the clumsiness in his movements had you biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“sukuna,” you teased softly, glancing up at him with a warm smile, “you don’t have to be so shy, you know.”

his brow furrowed in an attempt to stay composed, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying him. “shut up, woman,” he huffed, his voice gruff, “i know what i’m doing.” the confidence was there, but you could feel the subtle tremor in his touch. his grip was firm, yet careful — an odd mixture of control and restraint.

he wasn’t used to this. not with you. not with someone who mattered.

you felt a sense of tenderness for him in that moment, seeing him vulnerable like this. his tough exterior was crumbling, piece by piece. “you can touch me, you know,” you whispered, offering him the reassurance he didn’t ask for but clearly needed.

“‘m getting to it,” he practically barked, frustration lacing his voice as if he were trying to convince himself more than you. your giggle slipped out, and though it earned a glare from him, there was no real bite behind it. it was adorable — watching the all-powerful ryomen sukuna struggle with something so simple.

he fumbled with the fabric of your dress, clearly annoyed. “stupid dress gettin’ in the way,” he muttered, gripping it with one of his large hands, bunching it up to reveal your legs. the cool air hit your skin, and instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, a wave of self-consciousness creeping in.

the sound that left sukuna’s throat was a deep, low growl. “don’t hide yourself,” he ordered, his voice rough but lacking malice. he wasn’t used to this — having to make someone feel safe — but the sincerity in his words made you relax just a little.

“i know, but it’s still kinda weird —” you began, your voice soft.

“it’s only weird if you make it weird,” he grumbled, clearly fumbling for something reassuring to say, though the way he said it was anything but delicate. you could tell he was out of his element, but the effort was there, and that was enough to make your heart swell.

he paused, his gaze locking with yours for a long moment. there was something in his eyes, a softness that didn’t fit the man everyone else saw. “you sure you wanna do this?” sukuna’s voice was quieter this time, carrying a weight of concern that wasn’t typical of him.

“of course i want to!” you blurted out, a bit too fast, and his lips twitched into a grin before a low, genuine laugh bubbled up from his chest. it was rare to hear him laugh like that — so unguarded — and it made your heart skip a beat. your own embarrassment melted away, replaced by the warmth of the moment.

“then who am i to deny my wife what she wants?” he said, his tone light but filled with affection. the word “wife” rolled off his tongue with such ease, but the meaning behind it was still sinking in for both of you.

you grinned, shaking your head at his smugness. “you’ll never get tired of saying that, will you?”

“never,” sukuna replied without hesitation, his grin wide and proud as he unbuckled his belt and tossed his suit jacket aside, the movements more confident now. but there was still that tenderness in his actions — a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

as he leaned in to kiss you, the rest of the world faded away. the moment was just for the two of you. despite the teasing, despite the clumsiness, there was a sense of reverence in the way sukuna touched you—a reverence that made you feel like you were the most important person in his world. this wasn’t just about passion or desire. it was about trust, about sharing something real.

and as he kissed you again, you realized that for all of his roughness, all of his pride, sukuna was holding you like you were his most precious possession. like you were the best decision he had ever made.

he pulled back, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “you’re the best bad decision i’ve ever made,” he murmured, the words almost too soft for someone like him. but they were raw, honest.

your chest fluttered, the weight of his admission settling in. with a soft laugh, you reached up, brushing a hand against his jaw. “well, if that’s the case, i guess i’m happy to be your worst one.”

he smirked, leaning into your touch. “yeah? good. ‘cause you’re stuck with me now, woman.”

and for once, you didn’t mind the idea of being stuck at all.

the two of you lay bare before each other, the air thick with anticipation. there was a vulnerability in the moment that hadn’t been there before, an unspoken trust that made your heart race.

“‘kuna,” you breathed out, voice soft but filled with a hint of playfulness, “help me take the veil off —"

“nah,” sukuna interrupted with a devilish grin, his sharp eyes raking over your body. “looks sexy,” he added, pulling you closer to him, his large hands pressing against your back, making the warmth of his skin meld into yours. you could feel the strength in his hold, but there was a gentleness there too, a reverence in how he handled you.

the contrast between his rough personality and the care he took with you was striking, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and cherished all at once. his fingers traced over your skin, teasing but careful, as if he was savoring every second.

“you ready?” sukuna asked, his voice low, a rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

“born ready — oh shit, not ready!” you gasped out, voice shooting up in surprise at the sudden sensation between your legs, the shock of his intrusion making your body react instinctively as you scrambled to hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

his chuckle rumbled against your chest, though his brows furrowed in a mix of focus and concern. “shit, sorry,” he muttered, grunting softly as he forced himself to slow down, his voice laced with restraint. “just hold on, okay? it gets better.”

you nodded, your breath catching in your throat as the initial shock settled. “mm, o-okay,” you whined softly, trying to adjust, the tension in your body easing as you pressed your forehead against his. sukuna’s lips ghosted over your temple, his breath hot as he whispered a mixture of praise and reassurance.

“that’s it... you’re doin’ good,” he rasped, his voice gruff but tender, the way he spoke to you making your heart melt despite the intensity of the moment. his hands stayed steady on your hips, holding you close, grounding you. “just relax… i’ve got you.”

you breathed out shakily, your fingers clutching his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palms. despite the rough exterior, despite the teasing, sukuna was holding you with care. his usual bravado faded as he focused entirely on you, the rhythm of his movements slow and deliberate, making sure you were with him every step of the way.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable in its tone, the way his eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort.

“yeah,” you whispered, feeling the sincerity in his concern. “yeah, i’m okay.”

his smirk returned, just a little softer this time. “good… ‘cause i’m not gonna stop now,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you, sealing his words with a touch that was as possessive as it was tender.

“sukuna, slow down!” you squealed, the sudden intensity making your body jolt.

he let out a deep, rough laugh, voice strained, but dripping with cockiness. “can’t. fuckin’. slow. down,” he growled, each word punctuated with a particularly harsh movement that made you grip onto him tighter. it wasn’t enough to hurt, but enough to push you to your limit, sending shockwaves through your body.

“safe word is you slapping me,” sukuna panted out, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he thrust into you, the sensation overwhelming.

“slap you?” you echoed, trying to make sense of his words as you fought against the fogginess clouding your mind. your voice wavered between disbelief and amusement as you clung onto him for dear life, barely able to form coherent thoughts with how his body was taking over your senses.

he grunted in response, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you closer, hips moving with a reckless pace that made your breath hitch. “’m dead serious,” he groaned. “slap me on the face if you want me to stop.”

“that’s just gonna make you wanna go more!” you whined, your words slurring slightly as the pleasure built higher, threatening to send you over the edge.

his lips twisted into a grin, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “hm, touché,” he chuckled, the sound of his voice sending another wave of heat through you. his grin never faltered, even as he leaned down, pressing a rough kiss against your lips, muffling the moan that escaped you.

“guess we’ll just have to keep going,” sukuna teased, his breath ragged but full of challenge. the way his hands roamed your body, how he seemed to know exactly how far he could push you — it was intoxicating, overwhelming in the best way. and as you tangled your fingers in his hair, holding on, you knew there was no stopping now.

sukuna’s breath hitched as his movements became erratic, that cocky confidence of his faltering just a bit. “you know i really fuckin’ love you, right?” he panted out between rough breaths, his voice heavy with emotion, though still dripping with that signature arrogance.

“yeah, i can tell,” you gasped out breathlessly, an airy laugh escaping your lips despite the intensity of the moment. the way he had you pinned against him, completely overwhelmed by his strength and the rough tenderness in his movements, left no room for doubt. he had a way of making even the filthiest declarations sound almost sweet.

“good... just wanted to — fuck — m-make sure,” sukuna stammered, a crack in his usual composure as his voice grew rougher. his body was betraying him, the familiar hot pull of release starting to pool in his belly, and he was losing control quicker than he wanted to admit.

you could feel the change in him — the way his grip on you tightened, the way his breathing grew even more ragged, the urgency in every movement. “'kuna, are you —”

“let me focus!” sukuna cut you off with a strained grunt, his brows furrowing as he struggled to hold onto his composure. his hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer, burying himself deeper as his control slipped more and more. the desperation in his tone was almost endearing, in a very sukuna way — he was trying so hard to maintain that cocky, cool front, but the way he was clinging to you, the way his body trembled slightly, gave him away.

you couldn’t help but smirk through the haze of pleasure, your own body shaking as you ran your hands down his back, holding him just as tight. “need help focusing?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper, still trying to catch your breath as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, groaning lowly in response.

“you think you're so funny,” he huffed against your skin, his breath warm and heavy, his teeth grazing lightly over your pulse as his pace quickened, losing himself in you. “gonna be even funnier when i’m done with you…”

his threat was empty, but the way he was holding onto you, the raw need and affection behind each ragged breath, each movement, made you feel like you were all he ever needed. the world outside faded, and it was just the two of you, tangled in each other, hearts pounding in sync.

sukuna’s voice came out in a strangled groan, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising as his control began to slip completely. “can i — oh fuck — inside?” his voice cracked, a rare show of vulnerability that made your heart race faster than it already was.

“y-yeah, just —” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders, “just do it quick, i don’t think i  can — ah — hold on long.”

he grunted in response, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes fluttered shut, trying so hard to keep it together, but failing miserably. “yeah, i know, i gotch — oh fuck, y/n…” he choked out, his entire body trembling as he felt you clench around him, pulling him deeper, and the way you were responding to him wasn’t helping his already fraying composure. “you’re not making this e-easier f’me,” he practically whimpered, his usual gruffness nowhere to be found now.

he was unraveling. completely.

“just let it happen, ‘kuna,” you whispered, breathless, the nickname rolling off your tongue in a way that sent shivers down his spine. and that was all it took. the sound of his name, the way you said it — so raw, so intimate — was the final straw.

“fuck — y/n,” he grunted, his voice breaking as his hips slammed into yours, his pace becoming erratic, desperate. he buried his face in your neck, teeth grazing your skin as his body tensed, shaking against you. the heat of him, the way he was holding you like he was afraid to let go — it made everything feel overwhelming, and you could feel yourself teetering right there on the edge too.

“‘kuna —” you moaned, your own body shuddering, your nails dragging down his back as you reached your peak, and the way you cried out his name sent him spiraling.

“shit,” sukuna choked out one last time, his whole body jerking as he finally let go, spilling into you with a groan that was both relief and overwhelming intensity. his grip on you tightened, like you were his anchor, grounding him as he rode out his high, shuddering against you, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.

for a moment, neither of you moved. just the sound of your heavy breathing filled the room, the only sign of life. sukuna was still holding you close, his face pressed into your neck, the sweat on his skin cooling as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away. his body was heavy on top of yours, but it felt comforting, reassuring, like he didn’t want to let you go.

“fuck…” he muttered, still panting, his voice hoarse, but there was something almost tender in it, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. “you okay?”

you nodded weakly, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips. “i’m more than okay, ‘kuna.” you squeezed his shoulders lightly, your hands tracing slow patterns on his skin, both of you still wrapped in the aftermath of the moment.

“best bad decision i ever made,” he muttered, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he kissed the side of your neck, his voice rough, but so warm now, so content.

“you’ll never get tired of saying that, will you?” you teased, echoing your earlier words, your heart swelling with affection as you held him close.

“never,” he grinned, his lips brushing yours in a slow, languid kiss, filled with everything he couldn’t quite put into words. “not when it’s true.”

“now, about that round two…” “sukuna!”

epilogue.

“so how’s —?” choso’s voice filters through the phone, casual but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts.

“my wife? she’s good,” sukuna replies, a soft chuckle escaping as he glances at the photo wall in front of him, the space having blossomed with new memories. there’s the photo from your wedding, the two of you looking surprisingly at ease, captured in a rare, tender moment. next to it, the maternity shoot where you glowed with happiness, cradling your growing belly. and then the grainy image, snapped by yuuji, of you in the hospital ward holding your newborn. sukuna’s own figure, absent in the frame, was a choice — he had turned away, pretending to be too occupied with something else while tears pricked his eyes.

as his gaze moves across the wall, he finds himself smiling at the other photos: uraume, holding your child awkwardly, their expression uncharacteristically soft as your baby girl beamed at them. another picture shows suguru, his grimace exaggerated as your daughter gleefully yanked at his hair while riding on his shoulders, her tiny hands gripping his locks with innocent mischief. and there’s one of yuuji and choso, each kissing your daughter’s cheeks, her laugh caught perfectly mid-giggle. each photo, a snapshot of love, family, and time.

he still can’t believe he’s come this far, that he’s standing in front of a wall filled with memories of a family he never thought he’d have. it used to be a word that left a bitter taste in his mouth, something he rejected. but now? now it feels…right.

“you should get her over to our home sometime. it’s been a while since the two — i mean, three of you have come over,” choso’s voice echoes through the phone, pulling sukuna back to the moment.

sukuna chuckles softly at the slip. it’s still taking everyone, including his own brother, time to adjust to the idea that ryomen sukuna — the feared, ruthless business tycoon— is now a father. a father to a beautiful baby girl named aiko ryomen y/l/n. she looked so much like you, but that smirk — the one that mirrored his own — was unmistakable, even at just a year old. she had his fire, his intensity, but you tempered it with your warmth, creating a perfect balance that he never knew he needed.

“only when you get your girl,” sukuna teases, his voice lighter than it used to be.

“deal,” choso replies, amusement lacing his words.

“deal,” sukuna echoes, his smile lingering long after the call ends.

as he tucks his phone into his pocket, sukuna’s gaze moves across the wall of photos, his eyes fall on the most recent addition, one that stands out among the rest — a family photo taken just last month. it’s larger than the others, framed carefully and placed in the center of the collection.

in the photo, you’re holding aiko, who’s perched on your hip, her tiny hands gripping your arm with that signature smirk plastered across her chubby face. you’re smiling, your expression soft and warm, the love for your family evident in your eyes. standing beside you is sukuna, his arm resting casually on your shoulder, a slight smile on his face — barely noticeable, but it’s there, a glimpse of the man who hides his tenderness behind walls of cold arrogance.

beside him, uraume stands stiffly, as they always do, but there’s something softer in their expression, their usual rigid posture relaxed as they hold aiko’s hand gently. choso and yuuji stand next to them, both leaning in with matching wide smiles, yuuji making a peace sign with his fingers while choso, ever the protector, stands with a hand on yuuji’s shoulder. and then there’s suguru, who stands on the other side of you, his eyes crinkled with amusement as he looks down at aiko, who’s trying to reach for his hair — again.

it’s a chaotic picture, mismatched smiles and personalities blending together into something that feels almost surreal. a family — his family. the word rings in his mind as he stares at the photo, and for a moment, sukuna is overwhelmed. he never imagined this would be his life, that the ruthless, feared man he once was could stand among these people and feel…content. happy, even.

he used to think of himself as a lone wolf, someone who didn’t need or want anyone. but now, looking at this photo, he realizes how wrong he was. these people — each of them — have become a part of his world, his family, in ways he never thought possible.

his hand grazes the edge of the frame as he lets out a deep breath, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions he can barely name. gratitude, love, maybe even fear — fear of losing this, of somehow screwing it all up. but for once in his life, he pushes those thoughts away. he lets himself just be in this moment, soaking in the quiet joy that this family has brought him.

he doesn’t have to be perfect. he doesn’t have to have all the answers. he just has to be here — with you, with aiko, with everyone he cares about. and that, somehow, is enough.

turning away from the wall, sukuna leans against the window, staring out at the cityscape beyond. his heart, once so guarded, so hardened, feels lighter now, softer in a way he never thought possible.

it wasn’t easy to get here. there were fights, broken moments, regrets that lingered in the corners of his mind. but in the end, you stood by him. you saw past his flaws, his anger, his mistakes, and chose to love him anyway.

and he knows now — this is what life is about. it’s messy, chaotic, imperfect. but it’s real. and it’s his.

he turns back to the photo wall, his eyes lingering on the image of you and aiko, surrounded by the people who have become his family, and he smiles — a rare, genuine smile that only you have ever seen.

“all you need is a little bit of love in the mix,” he murmurs to himself, your words from years ago echoing in his mind.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s the truth he needed all along.

as the sun begins to set, casting a golden light across the room, sukuna stands there, feeling the weight of everything and nothing all at once. he has his family, his love, his life. and for the first time in a long, long time, he feels at peace.

fin.

while you're here, why not check out some fun facts about persephone that didn't make it to the final cut? ;D the "slap me" safe word with sukuna was inspired by @webism's kinktober post, make sure to check it out <3 produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

Hell 2 Pay

℣ Pairing: Vox X angelic!reader

℣ Summary: A naïve angel descends to Hell looking for Vagina. Finds Vox instead.

℣ Content notes: Voyeurism, first time for everything, explicit sexual content,use of a vibrator, guided masturbation, loss of virginity, creampie, Vox being Vox, pet names: mostly sweetheart, babydoll and baby, reader is a girl, reader has a pussy, reader has a name and it's a fucking stupid one.

A sequel to Heaven Spent

Taglist

@it-gal888 @jurijyuu @bishiglomper @brunette-bet @bapple117

@diffidentphantom @leonotlara @redvexillum @nyx-umbrakinesis

“You sure it’s okay for me to come to this with you?” you asked, quietly, as you walked out to the limo, holding Vox’s arm.

“Baby, everyone who is anyone is going to this party.” Vox gestured wide with his talons, an arc of electricity between his fingers. “I hear even Lucifer himself is on the guest list. If this friend of yours is still down here, and she’s as powerful as you say she is, she’ll be there.”

In the days since you’d met Vox, you’d come no closer to finding Vagina, though not through lack of trying. You’d searched every database Vox had access to for her name, scoured security feeds and drone footage from across the city looking for a glimpse of her aquiline nose. You’d searched until your eyes watered, until Vox came round to your console each evening and told you it was time to stop for the night. To sleep.

Half the time you found yourself passing out against him in the elevator on the way to the penthouse, waking up in his arms as he carried you to bed. It was embarrassing to admit how much you liked the sensation- the fact that he lifted you almost effortlessly, strong arms cradling you against his chest. A kiss goodnight was as much as you managed to give him, though he didn’t press for more, his tired voice a gentle rasp against your ear as he told you to rest up for the cameras the next day.

In exchange, you’d taken the job as spokesperson for Angelic Security, and spent your days in fitting rooms and in front of cameras, chirping out your lines with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.

You thought you’d hit a dead end, until Vox had arrived on set one afternoon with a change of costume for you; an off-the shoulder floor length pleated gown with an empire waist, and a hair ornament that made your breath catch when you looked at it, beads of glossy pink glass, shaped like pomegranate seeds, spilled in a cluster and connected by fine gold thread. The extravagance of it had made you nervous, but when Vox showed you your reflection in the mirror, you’d had to cover your mouth to stop yourself squealing with delight. You looked important and refined. Like a princess. And the look Vox gave you told you he thought so too.

You bit your lip. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“And why would I be embarrassed to have a beautiful girl like you on my arm, huh?” Vox’s talons squeezed gently around your shoulder, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

Vox’s business partner and roommate Valentino got into the limousine first, stooping to get into the spacious cabin inside, followed by his date, a pale pink spider demon who was only a little shorter than he was. Both of them were dressed for the event; Valentino with a silk top-hat in the place of his usual hat, and the spider demon in a tailored satin-lined jacket that hung open at the chest, no shirt or waistcoat underneath.

“This party better have an open bar, that’s all I’m saying-” the spider demon paused to look up as you climbed into the limo after him. “Who’s the skirt?”

“Angel Dust, this is Angelic Security’s newest spokesperson and my date, Ari. Ari, this is Angel Dust, Val’s-” Vox squinted, a glance at the big moth. “-most valued employee.”

“Oh.” Your grip on Vox’s arm tightened as you stared at Angel Dust. His soft pink fur didn’t make him look demonic, certainly. “Are you really an angel?”

“That depends who ya ask, toots.” Angel winked lasciviously.

“A lot of people have seen his pearly gates, that’s for sure.” Valentino wrapped a possessive arm around Angel, his long fingers sinking into the chest fluff that peeked from Angel’s half-open jacket. “But rest assured my cariño here is just as soaked in sin as the rest of us. Other things, too.” Valentino grinned, flashing a gold tooth, and you watched as Angel’s smile dropped fractionally.

“Alright, alright, save it for the afterparty, jeez.” Vox waved the air in front of him, opening a chilled compartment in the table between the four of you and pulling out a tray of drinks in a puff of condensation.

“Oh, thank fuck. My thirty four inch hero.” Angel reached out with two of his arms, took a glass in each, and dumped them unceremoniously into his open mouth. Vox and Valentino exchanged a look.

“I’d better not have to send anyone to scrape him off the floor this time,” groused Vox, his mouth sliding to the bottom corner of his screen as he watched Angel down another drink.

Valentino laughed. “He’ll be good tonight. Won’t you, cariño?” Valentino’s fingers slid up Angel’s neck, tilting his head to force eye contact.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Yes, daddy.”

Vox held open the door of the limo to let his other business partner, Velvette, in as she arrived. “No plus one tonight?”

“I’m meeting someone there.” Velvette ducked under Vox’s arm and climbed into her seat, phone in the palm of one hand as she grabbed a flute of champagne from the tray and took a sip, making a face. “One of my all-time least favourite people just died.”

“Ohh?” Valentino looked at her over the rims of his heart-shaped glasses. “That fashion editor bitch you hate?”

“That’s the one.” Velvette grinned at him. “I said I’d give her a job if she let me piss in her mouth.”

Vox snorted, pulling the door shut. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course I’m fucking kidding,” Velvette’s gaze went back to her phone. “I’m not giving her a job.”

You snuggled up to Vox’s side as the limo wound its way through Pentagram’s streets. Little by little, you were starting to suspect that Vox’s associates were not nice people.

You were afraid that the five of you would be overdressed until you actually arrived at the party, helped out of the limousine by stately-looking demons, and ascended the steps to the venue. Everyone there looked majestic, in white tie or glittering gowns, tall bird-headed demons mingling with a practical menagerie of others. You found yourself clinging tight to Vox’s arm, and were gratified to feel him shift his grip, his claws sliding down your back to your hip, pulling you against him. The quiet thrum of his body was a comfort, and you grounded yourself with it.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, his voice a murmur in your ear as the attendants at the door checked his invite and waved the two of you through, Valentino and Angel behind you.

You nodded, though in truth you were still a little intimidated. A bird-headed demon thrumming with power floated past you, accompanied by a pair of hellhounds. “It’s just… sparkly, that’s all.”

“Me and Val are gonna mingle, so take your time looking around. I’ll be right here if you need me. And-” Vox sighed, straightening the lapel of his jacket, the pocket square he wore deep pink to match your hair ornament. “-this should go without saying, but you’re here on my invite, so I’m responsible for your actions. Try not to get yourself in trouble, okay?”

“I won’t.” You looked down, your face hot, your fingers squeezing Vox’s upper arm. “I-” you swallowed, gathering your courage, before raising your head, and planting a single kiss on the edge of his screen. “Thank you, Vox. For everything.”

Vox gave you a look that was meant to be suave. “Anytime, babydoll.”

“So, uh, what are you looking for, exactly?” Angel swayed after you with a backwards glance at Valentino and Vox, and you stopped to let him catch up. “Seems like you’re pretty bent outta shape about it.”

“Vagina,” you answered, your voice soft as you scanned the room from your vantage by the canapé table, dazzled by the reflected light of diamonds and rubies round the throats of the female attendees as you looked for her face. The grey skin, like yours, the aquiline nose, the short white hair. You looked and saw nothing, an ache in your heart.

Angel grinned crookedly. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help ya much there. Any particular type of vagina or are you not picky? Cuz I do know some people.”

“No.” You shook your head, frustrated. “Vagina is my friend.”

“If you say so.” Angel sighed, grabbing a drink from a passing attendant. “I’m more of a penis man myself, but if I meet any vaginas I’ll send em your way. Later, toots.”

And just like that, you were alone in the crowd, still looking for Vagina's familiar face.

You saw her, across the room, a glimpse through the crowd that had you moving closer to check that you weren’t hallucinating. Her hair was longer than you remembered, a large red satin bow at the back, and she was missing an eye, but you would know that face anywhere. Hope crested in your chest. She was here. She was alive. You could go back. You could take her hand and go back to Heaven and things would go back just the way they were.

“Vagina!” Unable to wait a second longer, you rushed towards her, calling her name, dodging a waiter and a stuffy-looking pair of owl demons.

“Hey!” A hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks and you looked up to see a tall blonde girl in a ruby-colored tuxedo, frowning as she looked down at you. “Excuse me! That’s my girlfriend you’re talking to there, you can’t just-”

“Charlie.” Vagina joined you, a soft touch on the tall girl’s arm. “It’s okay. I know her. Can you give us a minute?”

“Oh.” Charlie gave a small smile, looking between you and Vagina. “You know her. Of course you know her! Okay. I’ll just… give you guys some space.”

“Vagina!” Your mouth felt dry, tears beading in the corners of your eyes as Vagina steered you behind a pillar in an unpopulated corner of the ballroom. “Oh thank goodness. You’re safe! Your eye-” you reached out. What had happened to her?

“Stop calling me that.” Vagina pushed your hand away with a scowl. “It’s Vaggie now.”

“Sorry.” You drew away, your back against the pillar. “But it’s okay! I’m here now!”

“Look.” Vagina, or rather Vaggie, sighed, her one remaining eye closing. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you should go. It’s dangerous here.”

What? The world seemed to stop around you as you stared at her. Of course- she didn’t want to put you in danger. You straightened your back, pulling yourself to your full height, feet a little wobbly in the high-heeled shoes Vox had given you. “I’m an exorcist, just like you.”

“Areola…” Vaggie scrunched her nose. “You’re a janitor. You clean the showers. The only weapon you know is mop.”

You persevered, an ache in the back of your throat. “I came to save you.” That had to count for something, didn’t it? You had come all the way down from Heaven, malformed wings or no, you had risked your life, your immortal soul against the forces of Hell, for Vaggie. She had to be able to see that.

Your statement seemed to have the opposite effect to what you intended, Vaggie’s expression darkening. “Why? I never asked for your help. And I know for sure Lute didn’t send you.”

“Because you’re my best friend.” My only friend, you thought, your bottom lip quivering. “That… that counts for something, right?”

“Oh, for crying out-” Vaggie buried her face in one hand, giving a deep sigh before she looked up at you again. “Let’s set the record straight here. We weren’t friends. We were coworkers.”

You stared, unable to speak, every word out of Vaggie’s mouth like a knife to your chest. All the times you had brought out iced drinks to her when she’d been training, all those times she’d listened to you talk about your day. That had been friendship, hadn’t it? Real friendship? Your hands shook. “But-” you managed to squeak out, feeling like you were falling, as if the floor of the ballroom was dropping deep beneath you.

Vaggie’s gaze went past you, to the milling crowd of dancers, and the tall girl in red. “I don’t need to be saved,” she said. “Go home, Areola.”

It was all you could do not to burst into tears as you watched Vaggie's retreating back, a lump in your throat as she walked away from you, red ribbon bright in her white hair.

“Everything okay?” Vox seemed to sense something was up when you rejoined him, pulling you close, his voice low.

Silently, you shook your head, tears hot and painful in the corners of your eyes. You knew that if you said too much you’d be bawling right in the middle of the dance floor. “Take me home?”

Vox paused a second, watching you, then nodded, slowly. “Car’s on the way. I’ll give the others a call on the way back.”

In the privacy of the limo, you buried your face against Vox's chest, gratitude welling in you as your throat tightened. “I’m sorry, I… I know you had things you wanted to do tonight, I don’t want to be a burden.” You rambled, swallowing a sob.

“Val and Velv will do just fine pissing on people without me,” said Vox, his tone wry.

“Are you my friend, Vox?” you hiccuped, leaning into his chest. “Do you even like me?”

“What kinda dumbass question is that?” Vox’s arm tightened around you. “Someone said I wasn’t your friend?”

“N-no. I just-” your bottom lip trembled. “I found her.” You felt your voice crack. “She said- she said she wasn’t my friend. She said she’d never-” a small sob escaped your lips, and you felt like you were falling again.

“Hey, babydoll.” Vox’s talons caught the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, until you were staring into his red eyes, the view made blurry by the tears in yours. “Hey,” he repeated, his voice dropping a half octave, and he kissed you, softly, lips brushing yours, fingertips up over your jaw, over your cheek. “You’re my girl. You’re mine. No-one in this city gets to make you doubt that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured as you found yourself on top of him, your body clinging to his as if he were the only solid thing in the world.

“I know something that will definitely make you feel better.” Vox reached into a compartment under one of the seats and pulled out a small object; a tapered, bulbous cylinder in VoxTek silver, cyan light shining from its contours.

“What is that?”

“Personal massager. Top of the range. Fully submersible, adjustable frequency and torque. Self-warming, body-grade silicone sheathe.”

You glanced up at Vox’s face. This was more than empty commercial copy, a flash of pride in his eyes. “You… helped design it, didn’t you?”

Vox quirked an eyebrow. “If I say yes, will you let me use it on you?”

You felt your face heat. “W-when you say personal massager…”

“I figure a few good orgasms are just what you need right now,” said Vox, eyes half-lidded, grin toothy.

“A few!?” You felt the pulse at the apex of your legs as you remembered what just one had felt like, Vox’s leg between your thighs.

“Lay back, baby,” Vox practically purred. “Let me take care of you.”

You hesitated, a little. Letting this happen to you was clearly not a thing that a good and chaste angel should do.

But what had being a good girl ever got you? You had been good, every day of your life; you had worked hard, and abstained, and been modest and never complained. You’d put yourself in danger, for someone you had assumed was your friend. And what had you gained? Aside from Vaggie’s disdain, the Lieutenant’s disdain, the disdain of every angel who saw your malformed wings and assumed you had done something to deserve it? Maybe this was a part of the grand plan the higher angels were always talking about, paid for in full with your deformity.

Who would even be waiting for you, if you went back to Heaven? Maybe you were meant to fall from grace, here, in Hell, in the arms of the one person who seemed to actually like you.

You placed your hand over Vox’s, fingertips over his blue talons. “I’ve never…” you said.

“I know that, baby.” Vox’s other hand was at the hem of your gown, pulling it up over your calves, over your knees, the fabric a silky whisper against your skin. “All you have to do is lay there and hold your legs open nice and wide for me, let me take care of the rest. Trust me.”

“O-okay.” You closed your eyes, feeling Vox push your skirt up over your thighs, your back flush with his chest as he pulled you into the position he wanted.

“Knees apart, sweetheart,” Vox murmured into your ear, his voice sending a shiver through your core.

You choked back a sob as you parted your thighs for him; one leg slung over his thigh, the other half-bent on the leather seat under you.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” Vox rasped, talons tracing thin lines over your knee, your quad, your inner thigh. He trailed the vibrator along the same path, its surface warm as skin as it shivered against your flesh. “I’m gonna make you feel so good you forget everything else that happened tonight.”

You turned your head, pressing the side of your face against Vox’s shoulder, and squeezed your eyes closed as you felt his hands ascend to the apex of your thighs, fingertips teasing at the lacy edge of your panties.

“Hey now, don’t be shy. I can feel how wet you are for me already,” said Vox, his fingers continuing to move. As if to demonstrate his point, he pressed two fingertips to the gusset of your panties, pressing your sex through the fabric in a languid up-down motion, then lifted them to your mouth, brushing the wetness that had seeped through your panties onto your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth, letting Vox slip his fingers inside, and were rewarded with a low groan from Vox as he smeared your tongue with the taste of your own arousal, musky and slick. “My good girl,” he growled, his other hand pushing your panties to the side. “So fucking obedient.”

He teased the vibrator against your outer lips, its setting still a low shiver as he moved it, smearing the arousal that leaked from you up towards your mons and then back down again, his fingers in your mouth echoing the slow, deliberate action. You shifted, and Vox parted your sex with his fingers, the vibrator against your inner lips, then up over the hood of your clitoris. It felt good, better than something this sinful had any right to feel, and you moaned around Vox’s fingers.

“See, baby? Didn’t I tell you I would make it better?” Vox exuded smugness as he kept the vibrator moving, and even if he hadn’t had his fingers in your mouth you weren’t sure you could have formed a coherent response.

Tears slid hot down your cheeks, your mascara running as Vox slid the vibrator over your sex, the shiver it had started with becoming a low thrum as he increased the power. He murmured sweet nothings as he slid it over your inner lips, the barest touch on your clitoris like a beam of heavenly light that had you forgetting that you were in the back of a limo with your sex spread open on a man’s hand.

“Tell me you want it inside,” said Vox, voice low as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, his other hand guiding the vibrator down a little, the thrum of sensation round your entrance, teasing at untouched flesh.

“Vox,” you gasped, as each tilt of his hand brought an answering shiver from your body.

“I wanna hear it, babydoll,” coaxed Vox, his second hand on your inner thigh now, spreading you further apart. “Tell me to fuck you with the toy.”

You swallowed, the concentric circles he was drawing around your entrance at war with the mortification you felt at using such crude language. “P-penetrate me-” you managed, to a soft chuckle from Vox.

“You’re just about the cutest girl I’ve ever fucked, you know that sweetheart?” he said, as he dipped the narrower end of the vibrator into you, just the tip. The sensation made you catch your breath, the thrum of it fluttering against your nerves. “Here you are, wide open for me, my toy in your sweet little pussy-” as if to demonstrate the point, Vox pushed the vibrator in another half inch, then out again, drawing a lewd little whimper from your lips. “-and you can’t even say the word fuck.”

“S-sorry,” you stammered, screwing your eyes shut.

“Don’t be sorry, Ari.” Vox’s lips were in your hair, kissing the beads from your hair ornament aside as he rocked the vibrator in and out of you, his other hand at your sex now, index and ring finger either side of your clit. “You’re my sweet baby girl. All for me, aren’t you?”

“Vox,” you whined, tears threatening to form in your eyes again. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?”

“Y-yes,” you squeaked

“Tell me again. I take good care of my things, babydoll.”

“I’m yours,” you repeated for him. Yours, yours, all yours. And each time your reward was that soft affection, that sound of approval, Vox’s thumb stroking the sensitive nub of your clit, making you squeak, and cry out, all the while the vibrator penetrating you in a shallow rhythm, slipping easily in and out of the slickness of your core. It wasn’t as if anyone else wanted you anyway.

“You’re close,” Vox purred against your ear, and you could feel that he was right; the sensation of his thumb on your clit the most vivid thing in your mind, along with the thrum of the toy against your inner walls. It felt like you were floating, pleasure your only compass, as Vox’s touch urged you to your destination. “Gonna cum with my toy inside, aren’t you?”

You whimpered an affirmative as you crested the wave, your core pulsing, twitching around the intrusion of the toy as Vox’s thumb stilled on your clit, pressing down but not moving.

Vox slipped a finger inside you with a groan, the width of the digit along with the toy bringing with it another round of little quakes. “Cumming hard for me babydoll?”

You gave a mortified little whimper, and Vox’s thumb pressed hard on your clit again, the sensation bringing more aftershocks as you found yourself fluttering round the toy and Vox’s finger.

“Holy shit, you’re still going,” Vox muttered, something like excitement creeping into his voice. “Hope you’re planning on cumming on my dick that hard.”

“I’m not planning!” you protested, to Vox’s indulgent grin.

“Course you’re not, sweetheart.” Vox’s voice was low as he dragged the tip of the vibrator from your still-twitching hole and up over your clit, its setting the gentle shiver that it had started on.

It was both too much and not enough, a flame on nerves already afire, oversensitive and quivering. “Vox!” you cried, hand going to his wrist, and he lifted the toy from your flesh, leaving you aching with its absence.

“Too much?” he asked, a prideful edge to his voice.

“Y-yes,” you admitted, breath coming in fast little pants through your lips.

“You wanna try using it yourself?” Vox pressed the toy into the palm of your hand. “I can talk you through it.”

You nodded, hesitant, and Vox took your hand in his, guiding the toy in your hand back to your slick and quivering sex. “Don’t worry about the settings. I can control those for you. Just press the tip here.”

The toy quivered in your hand as you pressed its bulbous end against your engorged clitoris. A stroke had your eyes fluttering closed, breath catching in your throat as you felt sheer, unmitigated pleasure. You drew back, swallowing saliva before you ventured another touch, a whimper on your lips.

Vox pushed two fingers into you, not the teasing in-out he had done with the toy, but in deep and curling, pressing something sweet at the apex. You drew the toy against your clitoris again, more steadily this time, feeling your body pull taut, a soft, birdlike noise in your throat as Vox’s fingers bullied the tender spot inside you.

“You need a little more power, babydoll?” Vox asked, and you only had to nod for the vibration to intensify, each moment threatening at too much before you drew your hand back, gasping as his fingers squelched in and out of you. “You should hold it there, hold it down, so you can cum round my fingers. Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you agreed, voice small, bracing yourself for the sensation as you pressed the toy once more against sensitive flesh. The quiver of the toy built into a tremble, the bliss of its touch into something almost painful, and you found yourself biting your lip to not cry out. You couldn’t keep going; it was too much, too much-

“Keep going,” Vox murmured, a light pressure on the back of your hand. You nodded, keeping the quivering toy held against the most sensitive part of you, an insensate noise on your lips as every muscle in your body seemed to shake, your legs drawn wide as they would go, riding bliss upon bliss upon bliss.

“Attagirl,” growled Vox, plunging his fingers in deep, and you were hit by a climax you hadn’t known to expect, a noise from you that was neither dignified nor sexy as your body spasmed, curling in, your thighs closing round Vox’s hands. “Attagirl,” he repeated, as your walls fluttered round his fingers, the vibrator still purring against your overstimulated clit. “Be a good girl and cum again for me now.”

“T-too much,” you whimpered, the rumble of the toy against your nerves threatening to blot out all other sensation, all thought, all language. “Vox, I can’t-”

“You can,” he encouraged, his hand guiding yours, keeping your hand in place, keeping the vibrator in place as you whined and bucked your hips. “See, I’m a very good judge of character, and I wouldn’t give you anything you couldn’t handle. I think you’re a good girl, and you’re gonna cum round my fingers when I ask you.”

“Vox!” your voice was starting to feel hoarse from the moaning, and the curl of Vox’s fingers inside you made you scream. You were still twitching from the previous orgasm as Vox pulled you inexorably to the next one.

“Tell me I’m right. Tell me you’re my good girl,” Vox pushed.

“I’m-” you started but were unable to finish as you crested the wave, pleasure flooding you, leaving you twitching senselessly round Vox’s fingers again, your back arching, thighs squeezing, head back. Vox stole the rest of your words with a kiss, his strange lips against yours as he cupped your chin with a hand coated with your arousal.

Warmth welled in your chest as the kiss deepened, Vox’s tongue twining with yours, the toy stilling as it powered down in your hand. Vox drew his fingers from you, wiping the slick on your bare thigh.

“Doing better now?” Vox asked as you broke the kiss, the limo slowing as it pulled up to the Vee tower.

“Yes,” you admitted, looking down at your rumpled dress, the heeled sandals still on your feet, anywhere but Vox’s smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, babydoll,” said Vox, smug as you’d ever seen him. “Let’s say you and I continue this in my room, huh?”

Your legs felt like jelly, but it still surprised you when rather than help you up, Vox simply scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the private elevator that went straight to the penthouse suite, taking the time it took for the elevator to ascend to unlace and remove your shoes, along with Vox’s jacket and tie.

You stroked the sides of Vox’s wide screen as you kissed him, and he carried you unerringly up the small flight of stairs that led to the mezzanine of his living space and through his bedroom door. He spilled you forward, onto the bed, and you sat back, your hands behind you, looking up at him.

Vox was looking at you with unashamed, undisguised desire, two lines of red from the corner of his mouth as he crawled onto the bed after you, pulling your knees apart to kneel between them, your dress once more riding up over your thighs.

“Do you want me?” you asked, quietly, part of you afraid of the answer. “You’re not… you’re not just doing this to make me feel better, right?”

Vox caught your hand by the wrist and pulled it to the fly of his tuxedo pants. Your eyes widened at what you felt there; his erection, hot and stiff and straining at the fabric. “What do you think, babydoll?” He pulled your hand more firmly against his hard-on, rutting against your palm with a movement of his hips, another line of red from his mouth as he did so. “Because I think you should take that pretty dress off for me and let me fuck you into the pillows til you scream.”

“Y-yes, of course.” Gratitude flooded you, your hands going to the clasps of your dress. You found yourself fumbling with it, your fingers shaking as Vox watched.

You failed to undo the same clasp on your side three times before Vox intervened, leaning into your personal space, a gentle hand on yours. “Lemme get that for you, sweetheart,” he said, voice soft enough to set you blushing as he undid the clasp with ease, his fingers finding the zip and easing it slowly down your side.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your cheeks hot, then, because it felt right, “I love you.”

Vox paused, his fingers under the shoulder of your dress, and you felt doubt rise to the surface again.

You looked at him, biting your lip. “I’m sorry, was that too soon? Am I not meant to say that?”

Vox lowered his face to your shoulderblade as he pulled off the shoulder of the dress, screen against skin, kissing his way down your back. “You are three orgasms too far in to be worrying about shit like that,” he said, in a tone that reminded you exactly what each of those had felt like. “You can say whatever you like to me, babydoll.”

“And you won’t leave?”

You felt Vox chuckle, a soft exhalation of breath against your back as he shimmied your dress down over your hips, hooking his fingers through the sides of your panties and pulling them down with it. “Does this look like leaving to you?” he asked, and you gulped, feeling exposed as you were naked under him, a prickling over your skin that had nothing to do with the temperature. “Tell me you love me again. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I love you,” you said, your eyes fluttering closed as Vox maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, lifting your hips a little until the bulge of his erection pressed your ass. “I’m yours.”

“Holy fuck, you’re beautiful, Ari,” Vox’s voice was thick with arousal as one finger stroked your exposed labia, still dripping slick from your adventures in the limo. “You’re gonna let me fuck that beautiful little white feathered pussy of yours, aren’t you?”

“Mm.” You nodded, nose to the sheets.

“Say it for me, babydoll,” said Vox, voice low, his clothed erection still pressing against you.

“I’m gonna let you…” you paused, breathless, searching for a way to paraphrase Vox’s words. “…take me,” you finished lamely. It was ludicrous, really; what you were about to do was something much worse than swearing, and plenty of angels swore, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Still not gonna swear, huh?” Vox’s hands were gentle over your hips, his voice more amused than annoyed.

Silently, you shook your head.

“That’s okay.” Vox gave your ass a reassuring squeeze. “Still gonna fuck you, though.”

You waited, your face pressed to the soft sheets, your sex presented to Vox, as he unzipped himself and lined himself up. The tip of his cock was warm, running hot like the rest of his body, unfamiliar but not unpleasant as he slid it between your outer lips, gathering slick. You whined as he stroked it against your clit, still oversensitive, and found yourself clutching the sheets between your fingers, your body tensing.

“Ari.” Vox curled himself over you, a kiss between your shoulderblades. “Relax for me, yeah?”

“S-sorry.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, and felt his hand cover yours.

“Don’t be sorry. Just trust me.” Vox’s glans slid over your clit again, back and forth, and you moaned into the sheets at the sensation. “You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you whimpered, and Vox lined himself up with your entrance again, the head of his cock teasing it just as the toy had. “That… that feels nice, Vox.”

“Good girl.” Vox pushed himself a little further into you. His cock was wider than the toy or his fingers had been, bringing with it a stretch that had you panting open mouthed into his bedsheets. Another inch and he was pressing the sweetness inside you that his fingers had found, drawing another whimper from you.

“Can you feel me?” he coaxed, pushing further in. “Can you feel me inside?”

His cock inside you was an ache that stirred your guts and left your eyelids fluttering closed, his big hands clasped over yours. I love you, I love you, I love you, lay heavy and sticky as treacle on your tongue as your face pressed into the high-threadcount cotton of his pillows. “It's big,” you murmured. You buried your face deeper in the pillows. “I’m yours.”

“All mine, babygirl,” Vox answered, pushing himself into you a little further, moving one hand onto your hip as leverage. “Fuck, you're doing so good. Taking me so well.”

His knees between your shins, your face to the sheets, you found yourself helpless to do anything but accept him in, soft chirps of pleasure escaping your lips as he stretched your insides to his form.

“Shit, you are incredible. Made for me.” Vox pulled out a little and thrust back in with a snap of his hips, his balls rocking against your clit as he bottomed out again. “You’re gonna look so pretty once you’re all fucked out and filled with my cum.”

You called his name as he pumped his cock into you, one hand reaching round to stroke at your engorged clit, each snap of his hips an obscene squelch, slick dripping down your trembling thighs, his cock both hitting divinity and burning with its stretch, the apex of each thrust leaving you deliciously, sinfully full.

“Be a good girl and cum for me now,” Vox ground out, fingers sliding a cruel back-and-forth across your oversensitive clit, the intensity of the sensation almost painful, making tears bead in your eyes. “Cum on my cock, babydoll, milk me dry.”

You didn’t have words anymore, only sensation as Vox worked you, his voice gentle and coaxing as his hips set a pace that had you crying out into the pillows, fingers on your clitoris first slick pressure and then light as he brought sparking blue energy to his fingertips, moving over your skin and alighting on nerves. You were giving soft cries into the bedding, your throat hoarse as Vox hit sweetness upon sweetness, your body aching with the intensity of it, a string pulled tight, tight, tight.

“You’re close,” Vox told you, words penetrating your brain somehow, his screen pressing close and static-y as his hips and hand kept the rhythm. “Gonna cum with you, okay?”

You nodded, no words, only a string pulled tight, tight, tight as you felt him swell inside you somehow, and a flash of hot, white bliss hit you, your body clenching around him as he pulsed inside you. He was filling you with his seed, a pulse of warmth inside you, and then another, and then another as your walls twitched tight around him.

“Fuck. Ari. So fucking good.” A groan escaped Vox that sounded not unlike a modem noise, his chest against your back, and the lights flickered off, plunging the both of you into darkness.

“Vox?” you asked, in a small, hoarse voice, the only light in the room the dim blue of his screen, his arms wrapping around your chest. His cock, mortifyingly, still inside you. You touched his arm, the back of his hand. “Vox?”

Vox gave an affirmative grunt. “Gimme a minute, sweetheart. Just took out the power in the block- shit.”

You swallowed, a vague feeling of guilt welling in your stomach. “Was it my fault?”

“It happens sometimes, babydoll. Don’t worry about it.” Vox pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Emergency power kicks in in another thirty seconds.”

“So you don’t need to go?”

“No, I don’t need to go.” Vox breathed out, a shuddering exhalation. “Baby, you made me cum so hard I caused a power cut. That means; a) I am not going anywhere in a hurry, so right now I can give you the care and adoration you deserve, and b) you can stop being so damn insecure about it. You got that?”

“I think so.” You found yourself smiling, almost despite yourself, as Vox pulled out of you, his seed dribbling out over your thighs, and rolled you over to face him, your face against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, the beads in your hair ornament clacking as his lips nudged them. You were dirty now. Ruined. Willingly full of a demon’s seed. Heaven would never take someone like you back.

But Vox’s arms were around you in the low light as the emergency power came on, his screen casting strange shadows across the sheets. And he made you feel warm and happy and safe, in a way no-one in Heaven ever had. You were his. He took good care of his things. In his bed, basking in the afterglow of the orgasm you had shared, was the happiest you had ever been.

[uhohdad]

I know how specific this might sound so don't please don't hesitate to let this ask brew for a bit!: I'm wondering how loser!König would fair with a southern transmasc reader? Someone who's clearly backwoods country,but also cuntry, ya know? Ain't much to do other than swim in the rivers if your lucky,or check out nature if your not wanting to see the small towns scattered between said nature. Love love love your writings ofc,keep up the amazing work!

This is incredibly specific. I love it. Okay here we go I hope this tickles your fancy. Prob could be enjoyed by everyone.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

☆ Loser!König was intrigued with you right from the start. He’s never met anyone like you before.

☆ He feels so comfortable with you. It was like he could tell you anything, and you’d just nod along. Not even so much as quirking an eyebrow at the odd things he says as you wade your ankles into the creek, hunting for crawdads to make friends with, just for the fun of it.

☆ He felt like he was swept off his feet, it’s amazing how such a simple lifestyle can feel so… magical, so thrilling. A whirlwind adventure that’s makes him feel alive, but simultaneously gives him a cozy, relaxing warmth foreign to him.

☆ (He’s not really sure if it’s the lifestyle, or if it’s just you.)

☆ You were so down to earth, so genuine, and you’d accepted König for who he was. His infatuation with you started here, and snowballed rapidly, and before he knew it he was in too deep.

☆ Funny, too. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed this hard, this much. It’s always a good time with you.

☆ The stargazing is his favorite part. Konig’s fingers threaded together and resting on his waist. Lying in the bed of your shoddy old pickup truck, the stars clear and beautiful in the middle of no where.

☆ It’s still hard to keep his focus on the stars when you’re right next to him, your arms folded to use your hands as a pillow, shoe absentmindedly swirling as you soak in the night sky. He can’t help the way his eyes are lingering. How his head keeps tilting to admire you, taking you in as you lay.

☆ It’s the beer, he thinks. He’s had too much. Flushing his cheeks and giving him that warm feeling in his chest.

☆ No, maybe it’s the atmosphere. It’s so romantic out here, just you and him and the night sky.

☆ No, it’s definitely you.

☆ He wants to leave his old life behind, he wants to stay out here with you forever. He wants to chase this feeling, he wants to chase you.

☆ The air between you is electric. He can’t stop thinking about how he wants to touch you. How badly he wants to hold your hand, how he has the overwhelming urge to kiss you. As he stares at you, he can’t help but wonder if you feel it too.

☆ He’s thinking about you sliding on top of him, straddling him. Grinding down on him, teasing him, his hands on your hips as you revel in his needy whines and moans. He wants you to take him - right here, right now

☆ The thought alone is enough to bring his cock to attention.

☆ “See something you like, handsome?”

☆ A cheeky grin spreads thick as you side-eye him, watching him snap his head back to the night sky, as if that was going to save him, as if you haven’t been feeling the burn of his stare this entire time.

☆ You got him, successfully flustered him, he’s sure he’s ruined it.

☆ “Well, don’t play shy now.”

☆ He doesn’t even know what to say, tongue-tied and trying to put out the heat just under his skin, but he’s only fanning the flame.

☆ He’ll carefully meet your gaze, his mouth dry and his lips twisted in worry.

☆ “S’okay.”

☆ He gives a shaky nod, hoping it’s dark enough out here that you can’t see the glow on his cheeks.

☆ A hand slips from behind your head, elbow propped up on the ribbed tailbed, wrist limp as you offer your hand.

☆ Konig swallows, eyes wide and flitting between your hand and your eyes, twinkling as they reflect the stars.

☆ “Don’t make it weird, dude. Just hold my stupid hand.”

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

ੈ✩

[pedge-page]

I'm new to ur page idk if this is done but I...I want Joel to piss inside a plushie....

Puddles - a Plushies x PK drabble

Notes: I've been waiting to write this one so here we go! Can read more plushies!Joel through Plushies Series masterlist, though they can all be read as standalone fics

Warnings: Pisskink!Joel, piss kink, Drunk!Joel, solo masturbation with a stuffed animal, yes he is pissing inside poor plushie, plushie fucking briefly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He may have gone a little bit overboard when Tommy invited him for the crew’s so-called ‘happy hour get together’. He knew they all liked to go out and celebrate with a few drinks after completing a project, and this last one they just wrapped up for some posh client with outrageous requests was no different. 

Joel usually liked to skip out on them. First, because he didn’t want to know what these clowns might be up to when they get tipsy, letting whatever sober-less things go on follow his mind to the next job site. But also because he’s getting too old for that college level shit. Hangovers aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing well past middle age. 

But, he didn’t want to be home alone since you were going to be working late.

So, two beers turned into twelve and a few more various alcohol spiked beverages here and there, and boom. Joel’s swaying side to side along the sidewalk with Tommy guiding him all the way up the front door.

“You sure you don’t need me, brother?” Tommy asks hesitantly. 

Joel, with lolling eyes and a grin, confidently waves him off after successfully entering his key into the door after 6 tries.

He stumbles through into the dark alone, and the first thing that hit him is how badly he wants to curl up on your plushie filled bed. He thought about you all night; your shampoo filling his nose when you cuddle him, the smooth streak of your naked back when you finish a shower, the wet indulgence of your pussy when he eats you out.

He’s never going to admit it, but the man is clingy as shit when you’re around. And he’s craving some much needed plushie pussy time.

Shit, the alcohol is really swimming in his brain. 

And, he realizes, with a firm and shiver-some squeeze to his crotch, elsewhere in his body. 

Ironically, the bathroom is not what beckons him.

With a devious smirk, he instead tumbles into the bedroom. Through the moonlit drapes, a wave of beady eyed babies stare back at him.

“Hello freaks,” he chuckles. They probably miss you too. Honestly it’s really rude, if you think about it, the way you abandon your buddies here AND Joel all in one night? Atrocious behavior. Someone ought to teach you better.

“Daddy’s home."

He falls forward, his knees catching the edge of the bed. An array of colorful volunteers practically jumping up and down at his presence to be engulfed by the precious aroma of Joel Miller.

That’s how drunk-Joel is seeing it. In reality, if they could run for their fluffy lives, they would. 

A quick hand snatches one yellow blob by its neck. His eyes struggle to get a clear picture—whether from the alcoholic haze or the darkness obscuring his vision. Possibly both. The dark bill and flappy arms come into focus.

“Duck,” he muses to himself. “Bet ya name is Duckie, some shit like that. She ain't good with the namein.” He rolls the unfortunate one over to its back, inspecting its caliber. Its definitely older: matted fur smushed down in certain areas, lack of vibrant coloring, some faded and torn edged fabric on its bow tie. Bitty holes sewn up here and there with mismatched (and poorly seemed) threaded needle. Your college waitressing job used to be for a place called the Quavern, so this little guy’s gotta be your graduation farewell from that team.

“Well mister Quakers. You n' me gonna get to know each other real well right now. Got something I need ya to hold f’me,” Joel slurs. One hand frees the button of his jeans while the other begins to prod at a loose tear in poor DuckDuck’s underside. He pokes and prods and scissors a little too harshly with his sausage fingers before a tell-tale rip echoes in the room. “Oops,” he chuckles with very little guilt as he forces the hole a bit wider and palms his crotch a bit harder. 

Yeah, he gets hard when touching your stuffed animals. He can’t help it! With all the naughty activities you do with them, they’re practically hug buddies by day, sex toy by night. His mind feels foggy, but the building sensation along his lower stomach is the only thing churning his actions. With a few lazy pumps, Joel slots his mushroom tip at the cottony hole he’s made in the poor plush. He pushes through, groaning with his head tossed slightly back as dry softness envelops his pulsing length. 

“Shit—that’s it. Take it little guy.” He bites his lips and peers below, watching his dick penetrate the stuffed animal.

He knows he should put it down, sew it up, put it back, and go do his business in the bathroom like a good, well trained boyfriend. But then again, he knows how fucking pissed you’ll be if he defiles your plushies again. Then you’ll never leave him unattended at home, and that means more pussy drinking and rubbing on these fuckers for him.

Joel doesn’t even realize he’s pissing inside the poor animal until it starts to sag heavily with the weight and wetness coating his hand. “Ooohhhhhhhhhh,” he gasps with furrowed brows. As his bladder empties, the duck grows damper and darker, the fur and cotton soaking it up from the inside out until it’s dripping down his ballsack.  He thrusts inside a few times, the warm wet sensation making him choke out a curse. It’s not quite like your pussy, but the heat is better than nothing. He pushes it flush against his pubic bone, another rush of liquid hissing through and muffled by Mr Quack’s soft innards.

If he wasn’t so fucking wasted right now, he’d fuck it into oblivion. give it the good ol'Miller beating. Fertilize its eggs, if you will. But with his bathroom situation now relieved, Joel yanks the thing off and chucks it to the ground. His brain collapses just as he falls towards the bed, drowning in his own much needed slumber.

-

you shake your head and laugh, hands on your hips at the sight in front of you.

Joel’s out cold face forward in your bed. His jeans are loosely wrapped around his hips and his old tee still on, so if it wasn’t for his loud snoring, you’d assume the man was dead. He hadn’t even made it fully on the bed, his tip toes still holding him up on the floor and legs dangling at an angle.

A few of your stuffed animals had managed to crawl out from underneath him, scattered around when he most likely dropped onto the bed. You pick them up one by one: dusty Carly the Crow, the now famed Mr Oinkers (with battery pack turned OFF), Whiskers the Cat, and poor old Puddles the Duc—

Your disgusted screech has Joel sitting up so fast he nearly capsizes off the bed. The confused, hungover lump is met with his bewildered and screaming girlfriend who’s yanking him by the neck and wringing him viciously with as much might as you can muster.

“STOP—FUCKING—PISSING—IN—MY—PLUSHIES!” You roar with wild eyes and gritted teeth, choking him within an inch of his life. You shake his neck up and down like you’re going to hammer his head into the bed post. 

It takes him a moment, with wide eyes and hands wrapped around your wrists, before his gaze lands on the poorly discarded evidence of last night: a very overly yellow duck soaking into the floor boards in a puddle of liquid gold.

- - - -

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