#☕ kills me once again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eringobragh420 · 4 months ago

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➔ Pairing — Roman Reigns ❤︎ f!Reader / cuck!Cody Rhodes ❤︎ f!Reader ➔ Summary — Roman takes Cody’s girlfriend on a date. Cody is their chauffeur. ➔ Links — 1 / 2 ➔ Word Count — 5.7k ➔ Warnings — Handjob, oral (m receiving), semi-public, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, Daddy kink, Tribal Chief kink, degradation, name-calling, hair-pulling, cuckolding, cum 18+ ➔ Taglist — If you’d like to be added, please click here! ➔ Support — Buy me a coffee! ☕ ➔ MASTERLIST

One of the many things you loved about Cody Rhodes was that he enjoyed a handjob just as much as he appreciated a blowjob. Smiling at this well-known fact, you leaned over, spitting on the head of his aching cock before spreading it down the shaft, continuing with your slow, purposeful strokes. Cody’s insistent hand on the back of your neck brought your lips to his in a searing, earth-shattering kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, as if you were the one getting manual stimulation, but you’d refused when he’d offered, telling him tonight was all about him, though you suspected he would disregard this and have his way with you—not that you’d complain or turn him down. But Cody was such a giver, always so concerned with your pleasure, and sometimes you just wanted to return the favor.

“I know you wanna do it again,” he suddenly mumbled against your swollen lips. Your eyes opened slowly, hand losing its momentum on Cody’s dick as you considered what he’d said. Suddenly the air around you was thick and heavy, like a weighted blanket over the both of you. “With Reigns,” he clarified, but of course you knew exactly what and who he was referring to.

“Cody … ” you whispered.

“I think about it all the time,” he sighed, his warm, recognizable hand closing around yours on his length, pumping just a little faster, and his thumb moved yours over the weeping head. He groaned when you took control, leaving his hand atop yours as it rose up and down, squeezing every now and again. “I can’t … do that to you, but …”

“You like watching someone else do it to me,” you finished for him, the flood gates in your cunt busting wide open, and you plastered sloppy kisses all over his cheek and neck, nibbling and licking at the red, white and blue tattoo. Your heart pounded from the confession, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it, too. Or touched yourself while thinking about it. And it wasn’t just Roman who occupied your mind. Your boyfriend watching you get railed by someone he truly disliked had done something to the chemicals in your brain.

Cody nodded, eyes closed. “Faster,” he breathed, and you’d never heard or seen anything more endearing than Cody Rhodes’ lisp. The corners of your mouth quirked into a smile as you did as requested, and once he removed his hand from yours, you switched your grip, and Cody crushed his wet lips to yours once more for a stalwart kiss that had you leaning forward, matching his energy, your mouths smacking together lewdly and with a practiced precision for several moments. “I can’t be tied up again,” he said, shaking his head, and you nodded, agreeing. “But I can’t—fuck—I can’t be able to get to you, though. The ways I imagined killing Reigns last time …”

“It’s fine,” you said. “We’ll figure something out.” Cody was moaning, head lulling back, and your hand squelched quickly up and down his shaft. “I love you so much, baby. I promise I’ll put on a good show for you.”

“Fuck!” Cody shouted, launching ropes of cum into the air, which inevitably landed on your hand, his cock and his thighs. Once he was able to think clearly, he looked at you. “This isn’t weird?” he asked.

You smiled, squeezing his chin with your clean hand, pressing your lips to his. “It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I loved you watching me get treated like a whore … and then looking down to see how fucking hard you were. And this might be bad, but I … I liked how angry it made you.”

Cody smirked, rolling his eyes. “That’s probably the least bad thing about all this.”

After making all the arrangements, never once feeling nervous, you were furious at the butterflies in your stomach as you got ready. You’d even done this before and your nerves were still frayed. You spun around in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting your dress this way and that to be sure there was no slack and it clung to your body everywhere it was supposed to. Your hair was in its signature style, as was your makeup and the jewelry adorning your ears, neck, and wrists, and you knew your boyfriend would forget his own name once he saw you, but you had to wonder about Roman.

The Tribal Chief was the last thing on your mind, however, when you turned the corner into the living room and nearly ran into Cody as he was attaching the golden chain to his vest. He’d chosen the maroon suit for tonight, the one with the long coat, and he was so fucking beautiful, your chest ached and your pussy wept. His big hands were on your shoulders, and you hated that it was so easy for him to see how anxious you were, but you adored him for taking the time to acknowledge it and make an effort to help you feel better. Instead of words, his lips touched yours, the muscles moving together with practiced ease, and as your hands slid up his chest, bound for the back of his neck, the doorbell rang.

“Don’t forget who you actually belong to,” Cody reminded you.

You nodded, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him again. “We probably shouldn’t keep him waiting,” you said, caressing Cody’s cheek before heading for the door.

Roman’s suit was black on black, shoes shiny, hair pulled back in a sleek bun. He smiled as you invited him inside, leaning down to place a hot kiss to your cheek, and your skin burned from your neck to your cheekbones. The Tribal Chief’s aura was almost too much to bear, and thankfully Cody made himself known, slowly shaking Roman’s hand, and you imagined they were in a silent battle over who could squeeze the hardest.

“So are we good?” Roman asked, nonchalant to the point of aggravation. “Same plan we talked about?” You and Cody both nodded, Cody slipping an arm around your waist possessively. “Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Roman smiled. “I’m starvin’.” He patted his flat abs to emphasize his declaration before he turned and started toward the vehicle you and Cody had chosen for the evening: the sleek black Lexus.

Cody exhaled heavily through his nostrils as you and he stepped out of the house, you waiting with your boyfriend while he locked the door. “This may not be enough to stop me,” he remarked, hand sliding around your waist again, fingers playing at the swell of your ass.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Pull over if you have to,” you reminded him.

Roman had already folded himself into the backseat of the Lexus by the time Cody opened the front passenger door for you. You climbed inside and your senses were suddenly full of Roman Reigns’ scent, his hulking presence directly behind you, and your waxed pussy clenched.

“You look good, baby girl,” Roman growled. Your heart thrummed, breath hitched, eyes watching Cody round the front of the car, bound for the driver’s seat. “You ready for our date?”

You gulped. “Yes, Daddy,” you whispered just as Cody opened his door and settled behind the steering wheel.

The ride to the restaurant was suffocating. The handsome man beside you was desperately in love with you, so much so that he was allowing you to seek satisfaction from another man. The alpha male behind you had no feelings toward you either way—his only true intentions being to ruin you, use you, and send you back home to that boyfriend who loved you so dearly. And you couldn’t deny how much the entire situation just turned you the fuck on.

Upon arrival at the restaurant, Cody pulled up front and smoothly put the car in park. You turned to him, and he painted on a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. He liked the part about watching you and Roman together, but he was less thrilled about the two of you going on a date without him. But it had been Roman’s stipulation, and he’d promised he had no ulterior motives—just a propensity for fooling around in public. And the thing about WWE superstars? They were incredibly popular, but were hardly, if ever (and for reasons unknown), followed by paparazzi.

Roman slapped Cody on the shoulder before exiting the backseat, slamming the door behind him. Cody’s crystal eyes winced, and you reached over to cradle his face.

“I love you,” you said, pressing your lips to his.

Cody sighed, warm air rushing across your face. “I love you, too. If you need me—”

“I know.” One final kiss, and you rubbed the residual lipstick off his mouth before you opened your door. Roman’s hand was suddenly there, and you glanced at Cody while slipping your hand into Roman’s and stepping out of the Lexus. Roman slammed the door with his free hand, slapping the hand that had been holding yours onto your ass cheek where it stayed as the two of you made your way inside. You fought the urge to again glimpse your boyfriend over your shoulder, the pang in your chest becoming more noticeable, an image of him eating alone down the street haunting your thoughts.

You and Roman were seated in a round booth in a fairly private corner of the dining room. Your soft, bare leg gently touched Roman’s meaty thigh as he eliminated the space between you. His aroma enveloped you, overwhelmed you, and you were suddenly slightly dizzy, overdosing on Roman Reigns before you even actually got started. But that’s the effect he had on you, on most people, you were sure. He threw off a lot of heat, and so you couldn’t be sure if you were blushing or just physically being lit on fire. You still didn’t know the answer as he laid an arm across the booth behind you, so smooth, so apathetic, as he ordered an expensive bottle of wine from the nervous waiter.

“So,” Roman broke the silence first, eyes surveying the other patrons of the restaurant, “did you follow the rules?” His inky eyes eventually landed on you, your thighs twitching, squeezing. “Made sure to wear panties?”

You swallowed what felt like sand. “Yes, Daddy,” you confirmed. You gasped, back straightening and bumping into the cushions behind you, as Roman reached over and casually lifted the bottom of your dress. You had one leg crossed over the other, so there wasn’t much to see, but just enough to prove you’d obeyed his instructions.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his full lips kissing you delicately on the temple. And so enchanted were you by Roman’s odd gentleness, you didn’t notice as he took hold of your hand, sliding it over his brawny thigh, settling it atop the lump between his legs. “Nice and slow,” he said, winking. “We got all night.”

You set to work massaging him, squeezing, rubbing, even pinching the fat head of his cock, which caused Roman to jump just the slightest bit in his seat. Fear swept through you, but the Tribal Chief merely grinned, shook his head, and took a sip from his glass of red wine. He quickly hardened under your touch, straining against the zipper of his expensive slacks, and pride swelled in your chest at how easy it was for you to bring Roman Reigns’ monster cock to life. Though you were quickly deflated at how indifferent he was about it. Aside from the tiny jump, and the fact that he was hard as fuck, he gave no other indication that he enjoyed your ministrations. No more smiles, hardly any glances in your direction, and he certainly wasn’t touching you despite his arm still lounging on the booth behind you. This is what you asked for, you supposed—Roman hadn’t signed up for the boyfriend package.

“Take it out,” Roman said. Biting your lip, and as stealthily as possible, you used both your hands to unbuckle his belt and open his pants. Once those were out of your way, you revealed the Tribal Chief’s impressive shaft, sighing as you wrapped your tiny-in-comparison hand around his length. The size, the weight, the warmth … your panties were soaked already. “Good,” he praised. “Now spit on it.”

Your heart sped up, but your mouth watered, making your task that much easier. After glancing around to be sure no one was paying either of you any mind, you bent over, and dropped a perfectly formed glob of saliva on the fleshy head of Roman’s cock. Your fingers smeared it around, sliding it down his cock, and it made your strokes much more enjoyable for him. You were even able to hear a faint moan emanate from his chest, and it was about this time your waiter decided to check in on you a short while after he’d served your entrees.

“I’m good,” Roman smoothly replied, and then you looked at you. “You good, babe?”

Your hand was frozen on his cock, but with the angle of your arm, it was clear your hand was in Roman’s lap. The waiter’s eyes dropped briefly to see if he could get a peek of whatever was going on, coming back to your face almost immediately when he realized he wasn’t able to see anything. “I—I’m good,” you stuttered. The waiter excused himself, glancing over his shoulder briefly before disappearing around the corner.

“Keep jerkin’ me,” Roman commanded, and you hadn’t realized you’d stopped at all. Before you could get a full stroke in, Roman leaned until his lips grazed your ear, growling, “You’re gon’ get a spankin’ for that. You don’t stop until Daddy tells you to stop.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you whispered. With your free hand, you grabbed your own glass of wine and quickly swallowed three mouthfuls, never once pausing your manual stimulation. Neither of you had touched much of your expensive food.

“Now tell me why, if Rhodes loves you so much, he won’t give you what you want?”

You weren’t sure why he was asking, or why the answer was important, but your response was quick. “Because he’s a good guy.”

Roman looked at you. “Does that make me the bad guy?”

You flicked your thumb over the head, and Roman licked and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Aren’t you?” you breathed, brow arched.

Roman’s eyes narrowed briefly, and then he smirked, shrugged. “Why don’t you kiss Daddy’s cock?” Knowing better than to waste time by making sure no one was looking, you leaned over and touched your lips to the head of Roman’s cock, and you straight away tasted that familiar salty flavor of precum, of the Tribal Chief. You were licking the head and tonguing the slit as if you had permission to do so, as if you weren’t in public, and Roman had the honor of reminding you which of the two of you were actually in charge. He fisted your perfect hair, bringing his fingers as closely to your head as he could, so he was able to pull and cause pain without actually moving you and thus drawing attention, and he slowly lifted you back into your original position. Somehow, you managed to continue stroking him. “Did I say you could lick me?” he fumed. You shook your head, tears springing in your eyes from the stinging in your scalp. “That’s gon’ get you another spankin’.”

You nodded, slowly, barely. “Yes, Daddy.”

Roman also nodded, gazing down his nose at you, and it was like a downburst in the middle of the restaurant—all the tension, both sexual and nervous, the attraction you had for one another, the arousal, the spark—it all came crashing down onto your shoulders, sucking the breath from your lungs. You knew better than to touch him if you weren’t told to do so, so you settled for placing your free hand on your thigh, which was grinding into its twin without abandon. Roman’s sinful eyes descended just there, watching a moment as your fingers dug into your muscle to keep from reaching out for him.

“Why don’t you call your boyfriend?” he suggested, your eyes locked on his plump lips. “Think I’m ready to have his girlfriend.”

You struggled to extract your phone from your purse with just one hand—you heard Roman snort softly—but you were triumphant moments later, tapping your way to a phone call with Cody.

His tone was tight when he answered after only one ring. “Hey.”

Roman’s long fingers slipped under your chin, gently tugging until you looked at him, phone to your ear. His brows rose, head tilted down—a silent reminder.

Your hand still stroking his cock, eyes captivated by Roman’s wicked chocolate pools, you said to your boyfriend, “Daddy and I are ready to go.”

Roman waggled the fingers that had just been on your chin, and your heart skipped several beats as you slowly handed him your phone. “Get the lead out, Rhodes. Your girl’s got me hard as fuck.” Without waiting for a response, he disconnected the call, grinning like a fool as he returned it to your possession.

You and Roman weren’t waiting long outside the restaurant before the Lexus came speeding up, squealing to a fluid halt. The windows were tinted, making it impossible to gauge Cody’s mood early. Roman opened the back door, and you anxiously licked your lips as you crawled inside. Sliding to the middle of the seat, you caught Cody’s crystal eyes in the rear view mirror—two stone sapphires, revealing nothing of what was going on behind the scenes. It was difficult to not reach out and touch him, hug him, kiss him, but you hadn’t been given permission to do so, and you already had two spanks coming your way. Roman’s hulking frame followed you, closing the door behind him, and he was roughly the same distance from you now as he was in the restaurant, but in the enclosed space of the vehicle, you suddenly felt claustrophobic as his presence surrounded you.

“Alright, let’s get these off,” Roman said, pulling at the bottom of your dress. You lifted your hips, and his hands disappeared under your dress so he could slip your panties down your legs—you carefully maneuvered your heels out of the material so as not to rip it. He examined them, and it was almost like he was examining you, but the wild grin on his face made you feel better about his actions. Suddenly, he tossed the garment at Cody, the black lace hitting him delicately in the neck, and you heard Cody sigh heavily through his nostrils. “Just give those a smell, Nightmare.”

Your eyes rounded as you watched your boyfriend lift your panties from his shoulder, holding them up, and the wet spot you’d created was unmistakable, glistening in the gentle light of the car. You gasped, Cody bringing your panties to his nose, and his inhaling was the loudest thing you’d ever heard, but fuck it all if you weren’t simply becoming wetter and wetter.

“That’s just from jerkin’ me off,” Roman pointed out, “and the little kisses and licks on my cock.” He snatched your face, much rougher than he had just a few moments ago, and you focused your attention on the Samoan god. “That reminds me,” he growled, “you got two spanks comin’ your way, don’t you?”

A car honked from behind the Lexus, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The two men were calm, however, and Cody used the hand holding your panties to put the car in drive so he could pull out of the restaurant parking lot. As your boyfriend chauffeured you and Roman back to your house, the Tribal Chief ordered you on your knees and to once again pull his now semi-hard cock out of his pants.

“Now, your boyfriend can’t see you, so make sure he can hear you,” Roman advised, now with the freedom to shove your face into his crotch, your mouth opening just in time to accept his hot length, and the man was big enough to make you gag without even being completely hard. “That a girl, but I know you can do better.”

As Roman pulled your dress up, you impaled your throat on his cock, choking, coating the shaft in spit and drool, which allowed your hand to slide easily up and down, covering the area of his dick your mouth wasn’t able to reach. Roman’s coarse, capable hand barely grazed the soft, sensitive skin of your ass, and your heart drummed as you awaited your punishment. The smack came, hard, jarring your body, and you grunted around Roman’s cock, forcing it down your throat as far as you could as, what, a thank you? Penance?

“What do you say, slut?” Roman roared.

Your mouth popped wetly off his dick. “Thank you, Daddy,” you answered breathlessly, and he thrust his cock back in your mouth before you even got daddy all the way out. In and out, deeper with each pump of his hips, coughing, gagging, tears streaking your otherwise perfectly made up cheeks. The second spank came out of nowhere, jolting you once more, and you held his cock deep in your throat until you absolutely had to breathe. Pulling off, you sputtered, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Goddamn shame your own man can’t take care of you the way you deserve,” Roman said, holding your face close to his eyes, admiring the mess of your mouth and chin. “But don’t you worry your pretty, little head … Daddy’s gon’ take care of you. Fuck you like a real man. Fuck you like the slut inside you deserves.” You grinned up at him, suddenly lethargic, enraptured by Roman’s beauty, reveling in his undivided attention. “So turn around and sit on my cock. I want you to be able to look at your little boyfriend.”

The two of you worked together as he slid to the middle of the backseat, and you turned your back to him, your thighs on either side of his, grabbing hold of those sinewy muscles before sinking down slowly onto Roman’s fat cock.

“Fuck,” you mewled, head falling back, eyes fluttering, fingers squeezing closer to Roman’s knees. Two hot vices gripped your hips, squeezing into the tender flesh, and you were encouraged to lean forward until your elbows were propped on the armrest between the two front seats. Then you were told to bounce.

So willing and more than able to obey your Tribal Chief, you squeezed your thighs against his and did just as instructed—you bounced. Roman released your hips briefly so he could lower your dress and release your breasts, which were without the hindrance of a bra, and then he returned them to your already-bruised skin. So as you bounced, so did your tits. You felt Cody’s eyes burning into your every now and again, as he had to watch the road, but your gazes finally connected, and the explosion of his pupils were like two tiny volcanoes erupting, spewing ash all across the land. You knew that look, you knew those eyes, and you gasped, jaw dropped, pussy clenching around Roman’s thick dick as your hips continued rising and falling, your ass undulating every time your bodies came together.

“Tell him how bad you needed the Tribal Chief in your pussy,” Roman said.

Looking up at your boyfriend, who was now attempting to focus on the road, you panted, “I need the Tribal Chief in my pussy so fucking bad. I feel so fucking empty when he’s not inside me.” Cody reached down to adjust himself, and your attention fell to the incredible bulge threatening to stretch out Cody’s tailored pants, and you’d known he’d be turned on, but it was still a welcomed sight—validation.

“And tell him how much of a fucking slut you really are.”

You couldn’t help the diabolical grin that spread your lips, teeth slowly sinking into your bottom lip. “I’m such a slut, baby,” you told Cody, almost blissfully. “I can’t help it. I fucking love this shit.” The drool from the face-fuck earlier was sliding down your neck, making its way to the valley between your jiggling breasts. “I love fucking the Tribal Chief in front of you. I love when he fucks my face and spanks my ass. I love calling him Daddy.”

Roman guffawed, yanking your head back by your hair. “Listen to that mouth!” he hollered. “Never had a slut like this before. Riding me in front of your boyfriend? Slutty as fuck.”

“Fuck yes, my Tribal Chief,” you moaned. Cody squirmed in the driver’s seat, loosening his tie and the first few buttons of his shirt. “Such a fucking slut for you.”

“Turn the fuck around,” Roman suddenly demanded. “Put this cock back in that filthy mouth.” Eyes on Cody, you lifted your hips, slowly allowing Roman’s massive cock to fall out of your dripping cunt, and then you turned, knees on the seat as you bent over. He snatched your head and stabbed his drenched cock straight into your throat, wrestling that strangled choking sound from you that he seemed to love so much. You tasted a hint of his salty precum, but mostly you tasted your own luscious essence, which thickly coated Roman’s dick from root to tip, and as soon as you were able to quickly catch your breath, you went straight back down for more, stuffing his cock as far as it would go. Roman’s hand was on the back of your neck, lithe fingers curved around the column so he could feel the bulge in your throat with each pump of his steel cock. “Mmm, listen to that sound, Rhodes!” Roman exclaimed. “You like it when I choke your slutty little girlfriend with my cock? Hmm?” He abruptly yanked your head back, your scalp screaming, pussy throbbing, and he forced you to look at him. “Give your boyfriend a kiss,” he spoke quietly. “I want him to taste my cock in your mouth.”

As Cody changed lanes, you maneuvered your way back between the front seats. Cody’s cheeks were a dusty rose, his sapphire eyes bulging, and he had one hand controlling the Lexus, the other massaging his cock that appeared to be mere seconds from launching itself through his slacks and smacking against the steering wheel. This specific moment hadn’t been discussed beforehand or between you and Cody at all, so you weren’t quite sure which avenue to take. If you didn’t obey your Tribal Chief, you’d probably be in for another spanking, unless he thought of a more creative way to punish you. And if you did follow his instructions, how would Cody react? He liked watching and listening, that much was incredibly clear, but how involved did he want to be?

You settled for a compromise—you planted sloppy, sticky kisses to Cody’s cheek, the corner of his mouth the furthest you were willing to take it without the okay from your boyfriend. Cody’s tongue snaked out of his mouth, gathering the residue left behind, and his eyes fluttered.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Come here,” Roman ordered, “get back on this dick.”

He had you face him this time, straddling his hips, lowering yourself onto his still-rock hard cock. Gripping his shoulders, you set your hips in a moderate rhythm, feeling him nudge each and every corner of your cunt, tapping your cervix, and you cried out.

“So fucking wet,” Roman gushed, licking one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth, giving your other breast the same attention. “I’ll remember that for next time. That all I gotta do is take you to a fancy restaurant, give you a little taste of my cock, and I get to fuck you stupid in front of your boyfriend.” He grinned like a damn fool, brandishing his sparkling teeth, and all you could was keep grinding on him, panting into his mouth, too afraid to go in for a kiss. “And I could just roll this window down and show the whole city what a real whore looks like.” Whimpering, you dropped your perspiring forehead onto Roman’s, thankful he allowed you to remain there, however short-lived it was. “What do you say, slut? If Daddy wanted to roll the window down …”

You gulped, immediately thinking of Cody, but you knew better than to turn and check on him, and the way Roman was fucking you would have made it impossible for you to move anyway. “Yes, Daddy,” you breathed, hips rocking to meet his, drawing him deeper inside you. “I want the whole fucking city to see how much of a slut I am for you.”

Roman’s brows knitted together, and he sucked and licked and nibbled at your breasts. “Beg for Daddy’s cum,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Please, Daddy?” you gasped. “Your dick isn’t enough for my slutty pussy. I need your cum, too. I need your cum all the fucking time.” Roman touched his damp, fleshy lips to your ear, whispering, and you sighed as his scorching breath ghosted along your neck and shoulder. You licked your own lips before following his orders, glancing over your shoulder, and asking, “Can Daddy please come inside me? I need it more than anything.”

Cody inhaled through his nostrils, cobalt eyes lifting to the mirror. “Yes,” he rasped, “he can cum inside you.”

You turned back to Roman, fully prepared to ride him for all it was worth, reaping the benefits of his load inside you, but you were disappointed when he whispered more filthy things for you to repeat. “Baby,” you gained Cody’s attention again, “tell me you wanna fuck me with the Tribal Chief’s cum inside me.”

“Fuck you, Reigns,” Cody erupted.

Roman howled. “Come on, you know you want to,” he taunted Cody. “Imagine how fuckin’ messy her cunt’s gonna be when I’m done with it. Goddamn slip-and-slide.” You collapsed against Roman’s chest, head on his shoulder, his cock scratching that itch deep inside your pussy. “Don’t get me wrong,” he went on, “still tight as fuck.”

“God, I’m gonna cum,” you groaned.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Roman warned. “That little blonde boy doesn’t tell me how bad he wants to fuck you—”

“Baby, please,” you whined, near tears, squealing as Roman pinched and pulled at your nipples just because he fucking felt like it. “Please … I need to cum.”

“Come on, Nightmare,” Roman sing-songed, out of breath. “You really gon’ let your girl get fucked, and not let her cum?”

“Fuck, goddamn it, I want it,” Cody babbled. “I wanna see your fucking cum dripping out of her cunt before I shove my cock inside her.”

“Let me get that cum, baby girl,” Roman said to you, and your spine arched as you screamed, throwing your head back. Your pussy clenched around Roman’s cock, your entire body wracked with shudders. “Come on, you whore … milk this fuckin’ dick so the American Nightmare can get it up for you.”

Roman unloaded inside you just as Cody pulled the Lexus into the garage of your home. He thrust into you so many times afterward, you thought he was trying to get off again, but he was simply making sure he’d deposited every last drop of his cum inside you. Without warning, he lifted you slowly off his lap, your cunt pulsing as it mourned the loss of fullness, and laid you in the seat beside him. He grinned at you as he tucked himself away, adjusted and smoothed his suit, and opened the door, stepping out, where he came face-to-face with Cody. You watched, heart pounding, having no idea where this was headed, but you could feel the furious tension that was laced with arousal in the air. You gaped as Roman extended his hand, shit-eating grin on his face. Cody, massive bulge on full display as he doffed his jacket, shook Roman’s hand, and you could see their skin turn white from the amount of pressure being applied.

“Better get in there before my nut leaks out,” Roman advised, slapping Cody on the shoulder before strolling out of the garage, bound for his own vehicle parked on the street.

“Cody, baby, please,” you begged your boyfriend, who stared after Roman, fists clenched. “I need you.”

That seemed to break the Roman spell, and Cody looked at you. You jumped at the opportunity to slide your hand across your breasts, tweaking a nipple, as you scooted closer to the door. You spread your legs, Cody’s cerulean irises instantly drawn to what was probably an incredibly wrecked pussy. You felt Roman’s cum begin to seep from your used hole, and Cody suddenly reached out for your knees, holding them open, pushing them closer to your chest.

“My god, I’ve never seen anything so fucking sexy,” Cody admitted, leering at your entire body, but mostly your swollen, weeping pussy. He made swift work of his belt and pants, his long, slightly curved cock popping out. The head was red and seeping precum, and you licked your lips as your mouth watered, as it did every single time you looked at Cody’s dick. He adjusted your hips to the correct angle and height so that he could comfortably—for him, anyway—slip his cock deep within your cunt. He groaned, eyes closing briefly before opening again so he could watch as he leisurely pulled out, his cock coated in not only your cum, but also Roman’s cum.

“Oh, my fucking god …” you sobbed, your boyfriend squelching his way in and out of your flooded pussy. “Baby … I’m gonna cum again …”

“Do it, baby,” Cody encouraged, and your body contorted with the extra strength of this orgasm. “Because I’m about to …”

“Yes,” you mewled, body bouncing as Cody fucked you. “Please cum in my pussy. Please, please, please …”

“Fuck!” Cody cried out, hips slamming into you one final time before he paused, his muscular body, hidden behind slacks, a shirt, and a vest quivering much the same way yours had. After a moment, he chuckled, “You’re overflowing right now.”

You nodded dreamily, relaxing against the seat as Cody delicately pulled out, and you watched him as he watched all the thick cream he spoke of ooze out of your cunt. “I love you,” you said.

Cody smiled, shaking his head, still focused on the mess that was you. “I love you more,” he replied.

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krispycreamcake · 10 months ago

Note

yeeees! Please go for the headcanon!!

From author: Was secretly wishing you'd send this 🙏🏼

If you killed someone in the Sakamaki household

Shu Sakamaki

🎻- Honestly just like every other brother, it heavily depends on who was killed

🎻- If it was Reiji, he'd be ecstatic, kind of

🎻- His relationship with Reiji is extremely strained and that's without him even knowing about him "killing" Edgar

🎻- He'd be impressed that you managed to kill someone like Reiji which initially makes him extremely wary of you

🎻- His immediate reaction to finding out would be disbelief but then escalate into one of satisfaction

🎻- He'd probably say something along the lines of "What would that woman think if she knew you died by the hands of a mere mortal, I wonder?" And cue insane laughter please

🎻- If it was someone less relevant to him, then I'd say he's the type of guy to not care until he actually sees the body dressed up and ready to be buried

🎻- Now I'm not saying he'll go into grieving or anything, but it'll actually hit him that his brother is in fact dead

🎻- Now for his reaction towards YOU

🎻- That's a completely different story

🎻- Like I said before, his reaction would differ and if you really did manage to kill Reiji, he'd be ever so grateful but he'd never say it. Ever.

🎻- He'd probably be curious though as to what drove you to killing him, or any of his brothers for that matter

🎻- He'd analyze the situation in his mind and pick out the flaws that led to their demise

🎻- Realistically he'd care but not for too long. Give him about less than a week to get accustomed and he'll be fine

🎻- He'd never underestimate you again though, he'll make sure of that

🎻- If it was Yui however, then that's a lot more complicated

🎻- If his relationship was well developed with her, you'd be dead, without a doubt

🎻- If he was still in his almostgivingafuckbutnotreally stage, he wouldn't care a lot

🎻- He'd be kinda irritated that you killed his prey though and then Karl would just send another troublesome woman to bother him

🎻- But like I said, if he really did start to warm up to Yui or was already warmed up, you'd be dead in an instant

Reiji Sakamaki

☕- Surprised and concerned

☕- This may honestly seem like a shock to some people but Reiji actually does care for his brothers and has stated that he enjoys living with them

☕- Going off of this information, we can assume he'd be at least a tiny bit distraught even if he doesn't convey it outwardly

☕- Like Shu, he'd want to know your motives and additionally, how you even managed to do such a thing

☕- He'd honestly miss their presence and picking up after them. He would probably cope in some weird ass way

☕- Maybe he'd start writing letters to them and keep them sealed away somewhere extremely safe

☕- Initially, his face would go 😨 and then you'd have to deal with him mourning

☕- He'd probably avoid you realistically until he has thoughts in an order

☕- This process can take either a day or a month depending

☕- God forbid it was Shu that was killed however

☕- Once again, cue insane laughter

☕- Seeing your lifelong rival die is something I'm sure is hard to process

☕- I'm not saying he wouldn't be relieved that his good for nothing brother died, especially since it meant he was now the oldest and had more opportunities opened up to him

☕- But as much as he does hate Shu, it's still his brother and at some point in their lives, they weren't rivals

☕- Now I'm not saying he'll be even slightly upset with his death but

☕- Actually let me backtrack a bit

☕- Imagine hating someone so much because all they do is show you up without having to do anything and in a second, they're gone

☕- Reiji would almost throw a tantrum

☕- Their relationship can be comparable to Joker and Batman in a sense

☕- Let me elaborate on that for a second

☕- Building your life around a certain person and making sure you come out on top no matter what

☕- Having the very reason that you're the person you are today, be ripped away from you is something that's always hard to process whether your relationship with them is negative or positive

☕- Reiji needs to feel the satisfaction of killing Shu so he can translate onto him the years of pent up rage and resentment and pain and hurt and jealousy

☕- Killing Shu would mean to Reiji that you took away the one thing he could've owned for himself without being overshadowed

☕- If you take away the very thing that makes Reiji, Reiji, then he'll lose the foundation for all his successes in life

☕- If you killed Yui however, obviously death

☕- I feel like I shouldn't have to say it each time, but expect to die in some twisted malevolent way

☕- Let's say he didn't have that bond with Yui, he'd still be pissed

☕- Probably lock you in the dungeon without food so you could "understand" the extent of your crimes

Ayato Sakamaki

🏆- Ok so I'm not sure how many people know this, but Ayato is the most sympathetic of his brothers, I'd go as far to say even empathetic

🏆- Now I'm not saying this makes him a morally good person and whatnot, or that he'll cry everyday and bring flowers to his brother's grave, no

🏆- We learn that Ayato is actually quite understanding and sympathetic when he states that he understands why Cordelia did certain things and even pitied her

🏆- With that in mind, it'd hurt him, a lot

🏆- We all know Ayato is one to wear his heart on his sleeve no matter wherever or whoever

🏆- He'll be outwardly upset but that doesn't mean he'll be seen mourning

🏆- To break it down, he's the type of person to stare at the empty seat in the dining room and can't help but realize that chair will always be empty

🏆- Or he'll realize that he'll live long enough to forget his brother's voice, sometimes stand in front their bedroom door, not saying anything and then walking off

🏆- He'll notice how the living room feels slightly bigger when there's family meetings and how he'll never get to shout at that person again

🏆- Due to him being conditioned to being number one, he'll have extremely mixed feelings

🏆- As a competitor, the game isn't fun without other opponents, even if it's a game you know you'll win because then you coming first means nothing

🏆- Dying or in this case, 'dropping out the race' would make Ayato stop running for once and look back at the other players

🏆- That's if it was someone he wasn't as close with

🏆- Now let's say you killed Laito for instance, he'd have quite a different reaction

🏆- He would actually mourn his brother but never let anyone see him

🏆- His relationship with Laito is complicated but not an enigma

🏆- He feels as if he owes Laito something from not being able to help him in his past

🏆- Knowing that he died meant that he failed as a brother

🏆- If you killed Laito out of self defence, he'd be upset that his brother was dead but not because you defended yourself

🏆- Like I said earlier, he's the most understanding and sympathetic

🏆- If he could go into the shoes of the woman who abused and made his life hell

🏆- He could understand why you did what you did

🏆- If however it wasn't out of self defence, like Reiji he'd need to take a while to compose himself

🏆- He'd wanna know why and how and then just sit on his bed not knowing what to feel

🏆- He'd be upset at you if that was the case and you'd probably have to work to regain his trust again(if you want it)

🏆- But like I said, still the most understanding, so he had a feeling you might pull something like this if you started getting pestered too often or showed signs that you weren't doing okay

🏆- And oh God if it was Yui, yeah you're not coming out alive and I know I've said this like 2 times already, but let me be clear

🏆- You will wish he killed you

🏆- Prey or not, taking something that belongs to Ayato is never ever a good idea

From author: Guys it's 2am, I'll upload the other brothers tomorrow I promise, just please don't kill my family. (Ps, I love you guys❤)

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anonymousbardd · 1 year ago

Text

Character Headcanons

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: My Man

↳ Various x FemReader

The following characters are Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, and Gongseob Ji.

ʚɞ ┊: Gun Park

↳ When he first heard (F/n) call him "my man", because a random girl was drooling all over him, he couldn't help but think about that moment every night before sleep.

'Cause of that, he's been a bit more affectionate which isn't really his thing, this confused his lover a bit but hell she ain't complaining.

Now whenever Gun teases (F/n) he'd say something like, "Come help me out with work, after all, I'm your man, aren't I?"

And now, Gun repeatedly asks what he is to (F/n) whenever they make love in front of the mirror.

ʚɞ ┊: Goo Kim

↳ When Gun had asked what Goo means to (F/n), the blonde man was eavesdropping and was surprised when he heard his lover response.

"Goo...? He's silly and well, goofy, but even so, he's still my man."

He got so excited and came out from his hiding place, catching the young woman off gaurd.

"Cutie piee! I'm your man?! You called me your man!" He kept repeating it over and over again.

(F/n) had been smothered in gifts and kisses the next few weeks after.

ʚɞ ┊: Samuel Seo

↳ It was just a normal kissing session between the two in Samuel's office, it was getting spicy when someone had knocked on the door.

Samuel pulled away and cleared his throat while (F/n) fixed her blouse, Samuel then sighed and let the person who knocked in.

It was a young girl who seemed to be nervous to be there.

"Uh-uhm... Mister Goo Kim wishes to see you..." She said, (F/n) huffed and crossed her arms.

"Tell him that my man is busy and will get to him in a bit," she said in a stern voice.

The young girl nodded and left the room, Samuel turned to (F/n) and chuckled, "Your brother's going to kill me, you know."

(F/n) rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, "I'll take care of him, don't worry."

Samuel chuckled and kissed (F/n)'s lips, before Samuel even got the chance for his lips to reach her neck, Goo came barging in with a sword in his hand ready to remove Samuel's existence.

ʚɞ ┊: Jake Kim

↳ It was a lovely day, Jerry and (F/n) were playfully claiming Jake for themselves.

"Sir Jake belongs to me!" Jerry said, "Nuh-uh! He's mine!" (F/n) argued, Jerry and (F/n) had a sibling like relationship.

They continued to argue like that for a while.

"Humph! Sir Jake is my boss!" He said, "Oh yeah? Well he's my man so let him go!"

Once those words left the young woman's mouth, a grin crept on Jake's lips, the other members who were in the same room stiffened as the atmosphere tensed.

Jake turned to (F/n) and leaned down, "What did you say? Could you repeat that please?" He said.

The young woman shook her head and let go of Jake, "I-it's nothing..! Forget about it!" (F/n) turned to Lua in hopes to get away.

Jake held the young woman's wrist and dragged her out the room, "Come now, I want to hear you repeat what you just called me in bed."

ʚɞ ┊: Gongseob Ji

↳ (F/n) would rather be caught dead than to call Gongseob her man, she's still in pretty much denial phase that the young man had taken interest in her.

Though she slowly started to warm up to him, she still wanted to keep their relationship a secret.

The typical good girl x bad boy romance.

(F/n)'s friends had noticed how close Gongseob is, or rather, how close Gongseob tries to be with (F/n).

Eventually, they asked (F/n) what Gongseob is to her.

(F/n) paused and thought for a moment, then, a random girl was talking about how hot Gongseob was.

(F/n) huffed and crossed her arms, in a loud voice, she stated, "He's MY man, Gongseob Ji is MY man!"

It was loud enough for the girl to hear, and for the passing braided man to also hear.

"Oh-ho ho? You're finally admitting it?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around (F/n)'s waist.

"Humph! Shut it," she replied, still, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pecked him on the lips.

She then shot daggers on the girl who was overly complimenting her lover and stuck out her tongue.

༝༚༝༚𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚍

#lookism #lookismoneshot #x reader #oneshot #fanfic #gongseob ji #lookisim fanfic #samuel seo #jake kim one shot #gun park oneshot #goo kim #lookism headcanons

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zepskies · 2 years ago

Text

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster.

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood.

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming.

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done.

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his.

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires.

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest.

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital.

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead.

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness.

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?”

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him.

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead.

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it.

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.”

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps.

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.”

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. Your Dominican cousin comes out of you in that moment, compelling your mouth with her slang. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks.

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn.

Dean calls your name in frustration.

“What?” you hiss.

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks.

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything.

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town.

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own.

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes.

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music.

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts.

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table.

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart.

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.”

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible.

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him.

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—”

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand.

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it.

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.”

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea.

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet.

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room.

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.”

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve.

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head.

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing.

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand.

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance.

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.”

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot.

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit.

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest.

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.”

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders.

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little��stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance.

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles.

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss.

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts.

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine.

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close.

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there.

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms.

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze.

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him.

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs.

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye.

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms.

Oh, fuck yeah.

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs.

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up.

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control.

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls.

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums.

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk.

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground.

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit.

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck.

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you.

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask.

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love.

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze.

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease.

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts.

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs.

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase.

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest.

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room.

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again.

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]:

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]:

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

Note

soooo <3 its only fair we see steve’s pov of saving bug during the demogorgon fight ,, right? :) xoxo

siiiigh i guess (because i love u n him). in this blurb we answer: why DID steve come back after nancy kicked him out ??

enjoy <3

"steve, you need to leave. right now." nancy has never looked at steve like this before, with such annoyance and anger. he doesnt know what the fuck is happening but he had just saved your life.

he, steve harrington, just bridal carried y/n henderson to safety after a skinned skeleton looking piece of shit almost killed you.

now nancy is yelling at him again.

and all steve can do is look towards you for help. you have to say something, explain what any of this even means. steve is surrounded by nancy and jonathan, two people who have hurt him so deeply, and yet youre standing right in front of him and not saying a single thing.

you, the only person who hasnt hurt steve, who seems to understand him and expect so much more from him than anyone ever has in his life.

if you told steve to stay, he would.

at least then he'd have a sense of belonging. if you told steve everything will be okay, he'd have no reason not to believe you. he knows you; youd stay behind and fight and defend those you love and steve feels like a fucking coward as his hands shake while nancy berates him.

"y/n, please..." steve just needs one glance from you, a nod, anything.

but you dont say a thing.

steve groans. "fuck it!"

he runs out the door.

he thinks maybe if he drives fast enough, he can go to the police and bring them back here to jonathans. he cant just leave you behind, steve knows this, but what else is he supposed to do? you hadnt wanted him there, neither had nancy, and jonathan hates him.

hes not needed here. hes never been a fighter, anyways.

right as steve has unlocked his car door, the lights inside jonathans house start flickering again. the hair on his arms stand up. he knows. its back again.

and youre stuck in there with it.

three things cross through steves mind at once.

one, youre in danger.

two, you told steve he wasnt a bad person.

and three, hes so fucking tired of running.

so he does what any sane sixteen year old boy would do.

steve runs back inside to save you.

he told you earlier. he just wants to help. thats all hes ever wanted to do, and fuck. if he doesnt help you now, save you when you really need him, then steve is the coward his father has always told him he was.

jonathans bat is scattered across the floor when steve runs back inside. he grabs it as he assesses the situation. he cant believe hes doing this.

youre on the ground and steves heart stops for a moment, but when he sees you shaking jonathans shoulders, who is also sprawled on the ground, he calms down.

then he hears the gunshots and finally notices that nancy is frantically shooting at the monster and the bullets are doing absolutely nothing. she needs help, but you and jonathan are too far away.

steve stumbles a bit. for a second, he doesnt know who to run to. theres blood on your forehead and your ankle is bent at an angle that makes steve feel nauseous to look at, but jonathan has a hand wrapped around your waist while nancy is defenseless against the monster.

flicking the bat around his wrist, steve knows what he has to do.

he swings, distracting the monster long enough to spare nancy some time.

and you watch.

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

#southelroy #ask #come home blurb #m speaks #m's writing #set in season 1 #does this make any sense #like i KNOW why steve came back #but like #my brain cant articulate it well

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erii-ya · 1 year ago

Text

‘If it’s you….’ Part 1

Killer x FemReader

Sypnosis: You're one of the Strawhats, and after hearing the news about your captain being caught and imprisoned by Kaido, you join Raizo in infiltrating Udon to save him. There, you again met the man you've been obsessing with for a long time since you saw him for the first time in Sabaody. However, you discovered what happened to him, and you sure as fuck won't let it slide. No one's messing with your Milý and gets away with it.

WC: 2,333

A/N: One Piece is the beautiful creation of the genius Eiichiro Oda-sensei. It has heavy *spoilers* for the Wano Arc since the context revolves around Udon Prison. Please remember that the flow of the story is just a fantasy in my head, and English is not my mother tongue.

☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎

Luffy was defeated by Kaido and was imprisoned in Udon. Raizo, a member of the Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance that your crew was a part of, plans to infiltrate the Udon prison to save him, and you won't pass the chance of joining in. The plan was to enter the prison, find Luffy, and escape as quickly as possible before anyone could find out.

That WAS the plan.

But since Luffy is your captain, plans sometimes work differently than intended. You've got stuck in Udon with the person you're supposed to save, and Raizo is nowhere to be found.

"You're not even going to give me something to eat?!" Luffy whines beside you.

The escape plan failed, and Queen, who ruled the prison, forced Luffy to join a Sumo match he started for entertainment. So, both of you fought the whole day.

"I'm hungry..." his stomach growls on cue.

"Shut up and go to sleep!" says one of the Beast pirate members guarding you three while staying in the makeshift arena.

You shot a glare at him, hoping he'd drop dead only if shooting daggers could kill. You saw him shudder and quickly turn his back on you. 'That's right. Be scared. 'cause once I get the chance, I'll dice you all into fine pieces.'

Luffy continues to whine about turning into a mummy by the next day if he doesn't get something to eat and you can do nothing but sit quietly. Old man Hyo stepped closer to him and apologized for being a hindrance on the escape mission.

"Don't worry about it, gramps," you stated. Putting both your hands at the back of your head. "It was the captain's decision, and honestly, it'll leave a bad taste in my mouth knowing that we left you behind." you finished. Old man Hyo clenched his fist. He was still visibly guilty and probably blaming himself, thinking it was his fault you and Luffy couldn't get out of there on time.

"But still, Y/N-dono, you could've gotten awa-" You shushed him, waving your right hand, gesturing to stop. "It doesn't matter now, is it? It wasn't that bad. I haven't beaten people up for quite a while, so it's a fun time." You grinned. The old man looked at you unexpectedly and shook his head in defeat.

"Strawhat..." He called Luffy. "Why do you still want to fight Kaido? Knowing that you lost to him once already?"

As if on reflex, the Beast pirates around you all turned towards the three of you after hearing what the old man said. Curious to know the answer. Your captain got annoyed and released a wave of his conqueror's haki to knock them all down. He then proceeded to explain the four emperors of the sea to the old man and that Kaido was one of them.

"I'm going to become the king of the pirates, so I have to take them all down." Luffy finished with conviction.

You smiled widely. You've heard it countless times, but the ecstatic feeling it gives you doesn't get old. It brought back memories from before you became an official part of the crew.

*Flashback*

"Oi, Y/N! Join my crew!" you almost drown yourself in the glass of water you're drinking to the sudden outburst of the guy beside you. Whipping your head towards him with furrowed eyebrows, giving him a look like he grew an extra head, you retorted, "And what-in-the-holy-meatballs made you think I would want to play pirates with you? More or else BECOME a pirate?!".

"What? It'll be fun, I swear!" raising his right hand as if to promise. "Sanji's the best cook, and you'll enjoy all the dishes he'll serve! We can even have different eating contests occasionally.", he babbled.

Just thinking about it made you salivate.

Tempting…

It's really, really tempting...

But… "No, Thank you!".

As much as you're tempted by the idea of eating the 'best' dishes this Sanji person can cook, just thinking about living with a diverse group of individuals on a ship and floating for days in the vast sea made you cringe. You're okay with being alone, going from one place to another since social gathering is not your cup of tea. Being alone gives you freedom, not to mention the peace of mind of not causing trouble to anyone. Aside from being a petite woman with a huge appetite, you have no exceptional talent to boast. You only have an appetite that surpassed even this guy’s, the reason he lost to you in this meat-eating competition where you met.

Standing up, you gathered your things and swiftly left the place without turning back. You thought that was the last time you'd see the guy, so you brushed it off as an uncanny encounter. 'He's a pirate, so they'll probably leave this island immediately.' you forethought.

Boy, were you wrong! Because for the next couple of days, you always 'coincidentally' bumped into each other, and a series of back-and-forth barrage of why you should be joining his crew and why you shouldn't would always start. And the rest was history…

*End of Flashback*

You’re unsure if it's his persuasion, hidden charms, or just him being Luffy that you finally said 'Yes' to join his crew. Whatever it may be, you surprisingly never regretted it.

Your trip down memory lane was cut short when a mud-like entity appeared behind old man Hyo. It was Caribou, and on his stomach was Raizo, much to the old man's surprise. Questions were fired at the ninja, and he happily answered and explained to the old man what had been happening.

What was awesome was when Caribou stole Queen's share of Red Bean Soup!

"Fucking food finally! I was already thinking about chopping one of the Beast pirates." you nonchalantly said, which earned you weirded-out looks from Raizo, Caribou, and the old man. "Relax.", you said. " 's a joke.", and you smiled innocently at them. They can only nervously laugh at the awkward atmosphere while Luffy, knowing you, just laughs off his head.

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

The next day, Kaido shared some news with Queen. Komurasaki, the famous Oiran of the flower capital, died. Queen was devastated and hurriedly commanded to hook up the light-scroll snail to confirm the news. Your team, on the other hand, was so eager to start the sumo match.

"Did you idiots gain weight from yesterday?!" Queen was astonished. Eyes popped out after seeing Luffy and the old man, all plump and round than they were yesterday. 'Stupid captain,' you scratched your head in annoyance. 'I told him to eat only enough to regain his strength. Not to the point of bursting!' The beast pirates probably know by now that Queen's casserole of Red Bean Soup was missing, and the culprits are not too hard to guess.

You pinched the bridge of your nose like it would help stop the upcoming headache. "I also think finishing all that soup was too much. I'm surprised he survived this long as a captain." Caribou muttered. "Well, that's Luffy for you." is all you can say.

The light-scroll snail was rolling, showing a place somewhere in Wano. Queen was frantically looking for any signs or news about Komurasaki but to no avail. The view was changed from one place to another until it showed a scene where Zoro and Sanji saved a little girl.

Both you and your captain's face lit up. You excitedly run towards the arena, propping yourself up to stand behind your captain and to get a clearer view of the scene. Everything happened so fast, and now your crew was all in combat mode. "Go get them, guys! Kick their dirty asses!" you cheered even though they won't hear you. Arms stretching upwards.

Queen looked at you and asked if you knew the green-haired man shown on the screen. It was Zoro. ‘Shoot!’ You should have remembered. You shouldn't know that you knew them as part of your crew's disguise. The excitement of seeing everyone again and in action had you slip the crucial details in your mind. Luffy turns to you with knowing eyes, and you both 'tried' to deny the fact. Lips pouting, eyes looking elsewhere in an attempt to lie.

Unfortunately, you two sucked at lying, "It's too obvious, you liars!" Queen hissed. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you couldn't care less about the consequences. To hell with the disguise! Everything was already fucked up since the escape mission failed. You’re almost at your limit anyway, and the itch of wanting to go wild is growing stronger by the minute. You focused your attention back on the screen instead. You have already decided that when all hell breaks loose in here, that’ll be your cue to go on a rampage. But for now, you’ll simply enjoy watching your friends break some legs.

In your peripheral vision, you saw one of Queen’s underlings approach him. You used one of your hidden skills to make out whatever he’s reporting.

Ultrasonic hearing.

Sounds cool, right?

Of course, it is. After all, you put so much effort into naming this skill in another fancy way to mask the truth that it was only talent in picking up gossip. So helpful in hunting new delicacies.

Kidding aside, you heard Babanuki speak about a criminal arriving soon from the Flower Capital. Queen seems not to expect any new prisoners and is curious about who they might be.

Not long after, Udon Prison's main gate opened, and more of the Beast pirates walked in. You noticed one of them on a horse carrying a vertical red flag with the words ‘HITOKIRI.’ Queen asked who it was. “He’s a piece of garbage that couldn't complete a mission given by the Shogun of the Flower Capital,” answered Babanuki.

“We have a message from Orochi saying that we can punish him however we like.” announced the man leading in front of the newcomers. “We brought you, Hitokiri Kamazo!” he shouted.

The prisoner started laughing manically, and you turned your head in his direction for some reason. Escorted was a tall man wearing a brown kimono, blonde hair, and a face covered with bandages. The only visible features you’ll see are his eyes and purple-colored lip. ‘Nice fashion sense.’

“Oh, so you’re Kamazo? I’ve heard a lot about you.” - Queen.

The prisoner continues laughing, not giving a shit about what the baboon said.

“We also caught another one,” another beast guy added. “This one was stupid enough to show himself to us while yelling something. So, I shot him multiple times and didn’t even try to run.” the guy laughed.

Much to the surprise so far, the other prisoner turns out to be Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates. He was holed up in the same prison cell as Luffy, and when you’re trying to escape the other night with your captain, he beat you all to it. ‘What the hellhole do you think you’re doing, you Oni (demon)!’ You can’t help but think you’re surrounded with morons.

Luffy called out to Kid. He stood beside you, and you didn’t even notice. The shock on his face after seeing his fellow captain being brought back inside was evident. You turn your attention back to Kid, now kneeling on the ground. ‘Hey, what’s going on.’ Confused by his sudden action, you started to move toward the kid pirate’s captain, but Luffy stopped you. You looked at him, and he wasn’t even looking at you. He still has his attention on Kid. However, his grip on your wrist says otherwise. It was firm enough to tell you not to do anything. Yet.

You sighed, then nodded at Luffy; only then did he release his grip on you. Looking back at Eustass Kid, you saw an expression you never thought you’d see in him. Mixed emotions danced throughout his face, but bewilderment was more prominent.

He spoke to the other prisoner, Kamazo, who was still manically laughing. “Oi, what happened? Why are you laughing?! Stop! I said stop!” tears started forming in his eyes. He continued, “I remember how you hate the way you laugh…” staring at Kamazo but more like seeing a distant memory of the past, “...and you even stop laughing out loud at some point.”

Jerking your head to the side, thinking, ‘I’ve heard this before.’. It was somewhat familiar, but you can’t remember where or when you heard about it.

“Anyone who mocked the way you laughed was easily beaten to death.” - Kid

Then it hit you.

Your body froze.

An unwelcoming chill runs down your spine.

The next thing you knew, your lips moved, mouthing what Kid said, like you knew the next thing he’d say, like the back of your hand.

“Until you started wearing a mask to hide your face.” - You

“Until you started wearing a mask to hide your face.” - Kid

“No shit..” was what followed after the statement came out of your mouth. Blood ran cold, and your hands started to tremble out of control. You couldn’t believe it. You were just guessing and were instead hoping you were mistaken.

Now crying, Kid said, “That’s the person I knew. So please stop.” his tears flowed freely down his face. He’s hurt and in rage, and so are you. Your lips quivered to suppress the waterfall about to burst at the sudden realization. ‘What in the actual fuck…’

“Stop and look at me! What happened to our crew?! What happened to you?! Did Orochi do this to you?! Answer me!” Kid yells back at Kamazo with enraged eyes,

“Killeeeeeer!!!”

Hearing the confirmation made your eyes wide and your body tremble. The person you long to see after a long time is standing a few feet away from you. As much as you want to jump for joy, whatever you’re feeling right now is far from happy nor sad but rage. This is not the reunion you’re expecting to have with him.

“Milý-sama…” you whispered.

Continue on Part 2....

#onepiece x reader #op killer x reader #eustass kid #MassacreSoldierKiller x reader #Killer x FemReader #OnePiece #One Piece Killer

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someprettyname · 10 months ago

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🥁TA-DA!!🥁

Making my best friend i.e @moonlightjo rate blue lock boys just by their looks part 1 (do we make her rate other boys and coaches? Anri?) 😌↕️

no but the ratings are HILARIOUS I've been cackling for the past half hour send help

Her initial thoughts : "Heyyyy. I'll rate them but I have taken an overview and OOF I CANNOT RATE ANY ONE OF THEM LESS THAN 9 OR 10 LIKE WHAT??!??!?!!"

Hehe lmaooo pretty boys they are ikr?!

Anyways.

Let's start this ladies and gentlemen, I'll be using the same photos i sent her ☕💆🏻‍♀️✨

I tried my best to not be partial with the fanarts cough Kaiser cough okay?

Ratings under the cut 😌↕️ texts in purple are my thoughts and that's pretty obvious ik shh

1) Alexis Ness

Cute very cute. But looks like he would ACTUALLY kill me 😭. (Accurate vibe typing pt.1) Like that is a killer smile, literally. (He's just a Lil silly, don't go near kaiser you'll be good ^_^)

7/10

2) Tsurugi Zantetsu

OH MY GOD IDK WHAT I HAVE FOR HOT MEN IN GLASSES BUT OOF. LIKE SIR WHY ARE YOU NOT STEPPING ON ME RIGHT NOW? (He's too respectful for that actually 😔)

10/10. (Yes I'll send her the sauna photos dw)

3) Kurona Ranze

HOTTTTT. and cute at the same time somehow. Looks freaky (that's an interesting vision)...I like it 😏.

8/10

4) Karasu Tabito

OOOOOOOOHHHH. HOTTTTT!!!!! Looks like he would bully me (he has a feet kink by the way 👍🏻 and a voice kink he'd love you lmao) but i would still want him to fuck me so 🤷🏻‍♀️.

9/10.

5) Kunigami Rensuke.

Oooh that is a damn good picture of him. Like he looks so innocent and cute 🤌 (who will tell her? Sigh) but also is SO HOT. I would actually wanna date him. (I'm so proud of my woman.)

9/10

6) Barou Shoei

Looks like he would tie me up in a dungeon....and i would like it. (You would love it, yes. Accurate vibe typing pt2 lmaoooo) Smash all the way dude 🤌.

8/10

7) Shidou Ryusei

NOW THIS ONE LOOKS LIKE HE WOULD ACTUALLY KILL ME 😭. (He would <3 accurate vibe typing pt3) But ik he won't. SO DAMN HOT AGHHHHH.

8/10

8) Chigiri Hyoma.

He is so pretty 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 GIVING ME TRUE BI PANIC OOF- (again, HOW do you vibe type so accurately. You witch? Pt4)

10/10. (DAMN LILY. I'M SO PROUD OF YOU MY SWEETHEART.)

9) Nagi Seishiro

Ooooohh looking cool, nonchalant. I don't think I have seen a lot of him. Or if I have then not in this outfit. (Yeah guys dw I'll make sure to torcher her with hot nagi panels <3)

8/10.

10) Reo Mikage

Prettyyyyy (yeah pretty gay he is). So many pretty boys on here man. Damn he's wearing chains and shit.

8/10

11) Isagi Yoichi

He's giving main character (he is I think? 😭) Oh he looks like a determined boy. A very beautiful boy.

8/10. (How TF did she even catch that. Accurate vibe typing pt5)

12) Itoshi Sae.

What a gaze 🤌 ENOUGH TO MELT ME UP OOF-

9/10

13) Itoshi Rin

HOTTTTTT!!! Like in this picture he is really giving webtoon Suho.

8.5/10

14) Bachira Meguru

Ooh looks very passionate about his game. (Accurate vibe typing pt6 HOW DID SHE DO IT THIS TIME) Looks like he could kill me. LOVE IT.

8/10 (who will tell her about the demons)

15) The infamous (yes I've pestered her thirsting over him in the past more than once LMAO SORRY) Michael Kaiser.

He is like actually so sexy. Like that is a sexy man 🤌🤌🤌🤌. THE TATTOOS ESPECIALLY IN THE SECOND PIC. So damn hot.

10/10 (chapter 260's waiting for you sweets)

P.S - No offense to these beautiful men. These ratings are solely based on their looks and how I felt about them. The ratings just made sense to my brain when writing it down. They might and will most definitely change in the future I think. And just because I rated someone low doesn't mean I would fuck them....(🤷🏻‍♀️😭)

Thank you for this opportunity. Regards.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Hehe that's it for today ladies and gentlemen, see ya! 😂❤️

[divider from @/enchanthings]

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literatureatthebowofnails · 2 years ago

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AN: I've really enjoyed writing this series. I'm deeply appreciative of all the feedback and reblogs. They've fueled my writing and truly made me thankful for each and every one of you.

Series masterlist

Summary: Our darling couple take the first step toward the rest of their lives

It's a cold November morning and once again FRIDAY is calling your name, dragging you from your precious sleep.

"Nooo," you grumble, nuzzling into Loki's chest and tugging the fur comforter over your head. It collides with his nose.

He snorts, pulling it back below his chin. "I'll take it from here, FRIDAY.

"Darling, you do need to get up." He shifts beneath you.

"No," you whine, your voice muffled by the blanket. "I want to stay like this forever." You reach your arm over his bare chest, squeezing it for emphasis.

"As much as I'd enjoy that," he chuckles, "your absence downstairs could cause significant upheaval. Not to mention the breakdown of our fearless leader.

"You weren't here when he went on his feeble-minded caffeine fast. There are beings in Niflhel far more pleasant than our dear Captain without his 'morning Joe.'"

"But you're warm, and...you smell good, and...and...I love you," you say between yawns, before peaking up at him with a pout.

"I love you too," he smiles and gives your forehead a peck. "That doesn't change the fact that it's Monday and you have to go to work."

You throw off the blankets with a dramatic huff. "Fiiine. I hate it when you're right."

Loki chuckles and grabs a robe as he stands, handing another to you.

☕

First things first when you get in the elevator. "FRIDAY, please preheat the ovens for kolaches and turnovers, then check the A-Team agenda and load orders for whoever's on call to the POS."

You can't fault Tony's design; two separate confection ovens, freezer and refrigerator on a vertical conveyor. The contraption stands in the back of your circular kiosk cafe along with a cooling/rising rack, sink, employee entrance, and ample counter space.

Nearest the lobby doors sit the POS station, espresso machines, grab&go fridge, and pastry display. In addition to base cabinets, there's bulk storage accessible via elevator to the garage level. With a voice command to FRIDAY, a central circle in the floor descends while a safety barrier ascends into the workspace.

Plenty of square footage for three people, and on a Monday you need all the help you can get.

Chrysa clocks in with a muttered "Morning" as you're reviewing the Avengers' order:

Medium red eye, black - 'Nat's home from her mission and there's a morning debrief.'

Large dark roast with a shot of DynaPep - 'Tony, apparently trying to kill himself after a night of post-mission "tinkering."'

Extra large cup of Joe, extra cream and an order of mixed pastries - 'Steve got his run in and feels guilty about the early debrief.'

Small cocoa with cinnamon and extra whip - 'Peter's going to be late for school. Really, Steve needs to put that kid's education first.'

Medium Dutch apple pie a la mode latte - 'Thor, making his way through the seasonal menu.'

Extra large dirty chai - 'Scott just got into town.'

You notice a distinct lack of Earl Grey with excessive honey - 'Loki went back to bed. Dick.'

The next few hours are busy, as to be expected. They have you, Chrysa and Dementy rushing around, baking, steaming, and ringing up customers as quickly as possible.

Things begin to slow by 9:30, and around 10 Wanda wanders down in sweats and clogs, a maroon hoodie covering her unbrushed hair.

You start on her turek as soon as you see her. "Hey, what would you like for breakfast? And weren't you supposed to be at the debrief this morning?"

"Hmm...a pumpkin muffin," she smirks. "I popped my head out, told the kid to keep his mouth shut, and bewitched Steve to think I was there before going back to bed.

"I'm not getting up after three hours sleep just to tell Steve everything went as planned."

"What about Nat and Tony?" you ask.

"Stark sent Mark 93 and Nat doesn't sleep half the time anyway."

☕

Wednesday afternoon finds you at a boutique with Nat, Wanda, and Hope, who's visiting for the annual gala. The latter, focused as always, has chosen six sleek, black, barely differentiated dresses and hovers with them hanging over her shoulder while the rest of you decide.

"I can't believe it's been a year since we met," you say as you hold a one-shoulder gown against yourself in the mirror.

"You should try that one on," Nat says, her sultry voice soft but insistent. "It has been a year, hasn't it? So this is a particularly special gala. Is that why you're only looking at dresses in Loki's colors?"

You grin down at the gold taffeta. "Partially. It's more a feeling he's going to do something especially dramatic? I don't know what, exactly, but I haven't seen him this cagy since my birthday. He sent half the people in Times Square to his pocket dimension because I turned down the street before the flash mob was in place."

Wanda snickers.

"You're kidding!" says Hope.

"No," Nat replies, "There was a huge fallout when Steve got back from his 'emergency mission.' Something about 'We don't know if pocket dimensions are safe for humans...that's abduction...what if someone had gotten hurt?!'"

"And don't forget," adds Wanna, "'If you're so concerned, Rogers, I'm happy to send you in there to create safety protocols. We could all use the break from your incessant nagging.'"

☕

You were going to spend Saturday lounging around the flat until you needed to get ready, but Wanda had different plans. She insisted you and the rest of the girls all have a spa day. Thus, in the late afternoon you're stepping off the elevator on your floor with goodbyes to Nat, Shuri, Wanda, Hope and Pepper.

You open the door to find Loki already dressed and pacing nervously in the front room. His curls are raked in lines from the many times he's run his fingers along his scalp. "Loki?" you say. He freezes like a child caught sneaking candy, a hand shooting to his breast pocket before he takes a breath to steady himself. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes," he attempts a carefree smile. "Of course, darling, everything is wonderful. I...uh, I was just concerned you might not make it back in time to get ready."

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his ironically poor lie. "You do realize we don't have to be downstairs for another two hours, right?" Cupping his cheeks, you pull him down to kiss him. "Whatever it is you're so nervous about, I promise it will be ok. God or not, no one is perfect, and I'm not going anywhere."

He calms a bit. "Right. Well, I'm just going to, ah, see if Stark needs any help getting things organized." He checks his pocket again before rushing out the door.

You do your hair and makeup, wandering around the bedroom in only shoes and panties as your gown simply isn't bra-friendly. You're unhooking the dress from its hanger when you hear the front door open.

"Great timing," you call out. "I'm going to need help with this zipper."

Loki enters the room. "Ravishing as always, darling," he grins at your bare chest. "I could help with a lot more than your zipper, you know."

"Says the god who was worried we'd be late?" You smirk.

"Right," he chuckles. "Let's get you into that so I can get you out of it later."

☕

The event space is nearly unrecognizable; Tony's modern minimalism nowhere to be seen.

The chrome columns are covered in black silk, green velvet held against them in sandglass form by thick gold cords. Grand chandeliers twinkle from the high ceilings, alight with five thousand candle flames. A brass quintet sits atop a raised stage opposite the bar, the dance floor spread between them.

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd help Stark," you smile, nodding at the decor. "It's very you." Standing on your toes, you give his cheek a peck.

"Thank you," he takes a steadying breath. "Shall we, er, have a drink? Perhaps some appetizers? Oh look! There's T'Challa and Shuri catching up with my brother. Why don't you join them while I find us sustenance."

You wander over to the group, letting your anxious lover gather food. "Hey," you greet, lightly grazing Shuri's shoulder as you siddle between her and T'Challa.

The king greets you with a tight hug. "It has been far too long. You have to come visit us in Wakanda.

"Okoye keeps talking about getting a Starbucks, but I told her there's better coffee to be had from international sources."

Thor lights up as his brother joins the group, handing you a cocktail and a plate of hors d'oeuvres. "Are you ready?" he asks Loki, a shiteating grin on his face.

"Will you desist?!" Loki says through gritted teeth, attempting to surreptitiously stomp on his brother's toes.

You pop a stuffed mushroom in your mouth and pretend not to notice while you listen to Shuri describe her latest invention. As your discussion of the device begins to dwindle, you hear the opening notes of a familiar waltz.

Loki clears his throat, his hand extended. "May I?"

You take it and he leads you to the dance floor. You can't take your eyes off him. His floor craft is perfection as together you dance smoothly through the other couples.

You know not just the steps, but how he'll take them, making reflexive shifts in your footwork to blend precisely into his.

His hands are comforting as he holds you, his natural scent like burning pine and fresh snow. His vibrant green eyes are full of awe of you and the glowing adoration reflected on your face.

When the song ends, he spins you to the center of the dancefloor. Your skirt settles and you find him kneeling as he holds your hand and a stunning emerald ring.

"Darling," he looks at you with batted breath. "Will you do me the honor of being my princess?"

"Loki, oh my god! Yes, yes, of course I will. Nothing could make me happier!" As soon as he slips the ring on, you pull him into a fervent kiss and the band strikes up the wedding march. You know that wherever you are, so long as you're with him, you'll be home.

Taglist:

@peaches1958 @javagirl328, @loopsisloops, @goblingirlsarah, @buttercupcookies-blog @cakesandtom , @ladymischief11 , @km-ffluv , @coldnique , @glitterylokislut , @eleniblue , @lokiprompts , @lokisgoodgirl , @muddyorbsblr , @princess-ofthe-pages @jennyggggrrr

Let me know if you wish to be added or removed

Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Now that it's complete, I'll be focusing on party asks. I hope you all take some time to join us and participate in this event! All my love 💗

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki #loki smut #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x female reader #fic rec #loki/reader #14 doses of delirium drabble series #my writing

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anundyingfidelity · 11 months ago

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OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x reader smut #soldier boy the boys #jensen ackles the boys #tw noncon

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onetailie · 8 months ago

Note

☕ Josie + revenge

I give this whole arc in general a 6/10. Solely because Josie finally showing actual anger about what happened to her is something I’ve been waiting for since season 2.

One thing I can’t get past is how Josie and Melanie ever interact again… not even once and how the writers just pushed her revenge arc onto Mrs doctor Headwood. I think she should have gone through with killing Dr. Headwood purely to giver her a semi-satisfying ending. I despiseeee how the show kinda forgot about what happened to Josie when we could’ve had one of the most tense “reunions” in the show if they ever actually addressed each other once Melanie came back.

Also I have to add how vague the whole experiments in the silo plot line was. What exactly happened in there and why did she come out so angry (apart from the whole blood snatching thing). I can’t forget to mention how it KILLS me that she never found out about the whole Zarah trying to kill her ordeal cause I know the whole forgiveness things would’ve been out the window 🥴

This season’s gift to me however is unhinged!Josie’s revenge rampage so I’ll happily take it.

Thank you for the ask, anon <33

#I’d do anything for angry women #Snowpiercer #josie wellstead #snowpiercers4 #snowpiercer spoilers #snowpiercer asks

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eringobragh420 · 9 days ago

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⋆˙⟡ CMND/CTRL

➔ Pairing — Jon Moxley ❤︎ f!Reader ➔ Summary — Jon returns from a match in one of his moods. ➔ Word Count — 1.8k ➔ Warnings — NSFW. Choking/breath play, name-calling, marijuana, Mox being Mox, masturbation (m receiving), cum 18+ ➔ Taglist — If you’d like to be added, please click here! ➔ Requested By — @lov3rla03 for the 10-for-30 Kink List, thank you so much! ➔ Support — Buy me a coffee! ☕ ➔ MASTERLIST

Tonight was different. You hadn’t watched the show—you’d seen enough of your boyfriend covered in blood for a million lifetimes. But once he came through the hotel door, you, out on the balcony, enjoying a nicely rolled joint, thank you very much, you felt as if you’d been struck by lightning. There was a ripple in the ether, a shift in the mood, and your body stilled. His presence was all encompassing, overwhelming, inundating you with his rage, his passion, his hunger, all before the door had clicked shut behind him.

“Oh, kitten,” he called, voice gruff, sharp edges, a promise of a difficult, but memorable night ahead.

You didn’t answer, puffing on the joint instead, exhaling the plume of smoke into the warm night air, into the constellations shining above in the cloudless sky. This was your last moment of peace for a while and you intended to enjoy it. Crossing one leg over the other and settling back into the ugly, uncomfortable chair, you hit the joint again, holding the soothing smoke in your lungs before allowing it to escape in rings, one after the other, floating on the soft breeze.

Jon poked his head out. “Aren’t kittens supposed to come when you call them?” he rasped. You smelled cigarettes and mint and sweat—the fragrance that was Mox and could be sold for billions of dollars. According to you, anyway.

“You’re thinking of dogs,” you said, dropping the well-spent joint into the nearly-empty can of non-alcoholic beer you’d been using as an ashtray, “and I’m not a dog.”

Jon swaggered toward you, his scent intensifying, the natural heat he emanated already blanketing your body. His cobalt eyes glowed in the dark like miniature lightning rods, searching for the perfect conductor to surge through. He wore his customary tight black t-shirt, somehow confining his biceps and stretching across his broad chest, gray jeans that defined his too-often overlooked dense thighs, black belt, boots. Typical Mox attire.

“But you are my bitch,” Jon pointed out. “Aren’t you?”

You smirked a smirk only marijuana could bring out in you, gazing up and up at the imposing man now a mere arm’s reach away. “Depends on the day of the week. Sometimes you’re my bitch.” Not in the sexual sense, of course, but it was no secret how utterly obsessed he was with you—a fact you’d used to your advantage on more than one occasion to get something you wanted.

The hand around your throat wasn’t shocking, but it caught you off-guard just the same, your body jerking, your own hand rising instantly to grip Jon’s wrist. His hand was big, rough, and capable—capable of bringing you to orgasm over and over, capable of spanking your ass raw until you weren’t able to sit comfortably for several days afterward, capable of killing you, if the mood struck him. Your eyes met his, glaring and starving, and his grip tightened on your neck the same time as it lifted, bringing you slowly to your feet. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, tilting his head, and he continued to lift, taking you to the tips of your toes.

“Jon—” you struggled.

“Shut up,” he commanded, cutting you off. Your mouth clamped shut—you weren’t in any position to back talk now. Which was fine with you … you knew what was coming. “Take my cock out.”

“Will you just—” You tried anyway, despite knowing the answer.

“Shut …” He put his finger in your face. “… up. And don’t fucking make me tell you again.”

You liked the rough stuff, but sometimes Jon got out of hand, especially if you were on the level of Super Brat, who always seemed to make her presence known after finishing a blunt. The two couldn’t be related, right? Well, in any event, it was Super Brat versus Death Rider—you could only assume who the winner would be.

Your hands slid down his thin t-shirt, over every chiseled muscle, to the buckle of his belt. The metal clinked together as you disconnected the ends, leaving the belt hanging so you could make quick work of his jeans. All the while, he kept your eyes locked within his gaze, a penitentiary you never minded being incarcerated within. His cerulean eyes were brighter now, alive with power, with lust, with anger. You weren’t sure if his anger was being misdirected—did he have a bad match and was now about to take his frustrations out on you, or could he really be this pissed off because you didn’t come when he called you? Wouldn’t be the first time. And again, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you now noticed your thighs clenching, your breathing had become erratic, and suddenly you had Jon’s jeans lowered—he never wore underwear—and his semi-hard cock in your warm hand. He tried to mask the satisfaction, but you saw the slight roll of those intense eyes, you heard his breath catch in his throat. He always tried, but he could never fool you. You loved that about him.

The grip on your throat loosened just a bit, but tightened once he realized he’d done it. “Now jerk me off,” he rasped.

Your face was getting warm, eyes watering a little, but you felt a gush of juices soak your panties. Jon’s eyes shifted from yours as he watched you raise your hand to your mouth, pretty pink tongue snaking out to lather up the palm with spit and slobber before reaching for his cock again, this time gliding smoothly along his thick, veiny shaft. You twisted your wrist as you stroked slowly back and forth, your grip tight and a little rough—just how he liked it.

“That’s it,” he sighed, dropping his forehead against yours, rubbing it back and forth across your searing skin. “I guess you are good for something.”

“Fuck you,” you spat.

Jon swung you around by the neck, huge hand on your shoulder to stabilize you so he didn’t actually cause you injury, and walked you backward into the hotel room. He finally released your throat, and you gasped, your head pounding, vision blackening for the briefest of moments. But you felt pieces of the euphoria that came after being almost choked out—the exhilaration caused by the sudden rush of blood and oxygen to the brain—and now you were forced to chase that feeling again.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” Jon ordered, falling back on the bed, still completely clothed, cock resting teasingly on his lower belly, leaking precum onto his t-shirt. He folded his arms behind his head, his biceps on full display, shirt riding up to reveal just a sliver of skin, the smallest patch of strawberry-colored hair.

You did as instructed, as always—you might have disobeyed in the beginning, but you always surrendered in the end, Jon always won, but you still felt like the victor when it was all said and done. Jon watched, expressionless, dick twitching every now and again, and once you were finished, standing before the Death Rider stark naked, he waited a moment before nodding. Permission received, you crawled onto the bed with its plush blankets and fluffy pillows, all white and ready to be ruined, slinking up Jon’s long body.

“Spit on it,” he demanded, once your face hovered over his fully-hard, mouth-watering cock. Again you followed orders, depositing spit and drool all along the underside before making your way up the rest of him, straddling his waist, hands supporting you on either side of his head. His ferocious eyes searched your face, still saying nothing.

“What do you want?” you whispered.

He considered the question, tilting his head, licking his lips. Your own eyes rolled this time, and any minute, you expected a warm, sticky river to be flowing down one or both of your thighs. He took one of your hands and placed it on his cock between the two of you, your fingers robotically wrapping around him, squeezing, stroking. He grabbed your other wrist, and you maneuvered and flexed to make sure you didn’t fall as he lifted your hand and tucked it under his chin. He reclaimed your neck with his free hand.

On any other day, he’d have had you sit on his cock and ride him until your thighs quaked. Tonight was different. As his fingers tightened on your throat, your own hand took possession of his neck, though it had a much, much lesser effect—you could barely get a grip on his throat, thick as it was. So you worked his dick harder than he normally liked, slower, massaging the slit with your thumb, and then your nail, and his big body jerked, hand squeezing, and the oxygen and blood supply were completely shut off from your brain.

“Fuck!” Jon exclaimed, slamming his head back against the pillow. His hips rolled so he could fuck into your hand, the spit from earlier making it glide that much easier.

You jerked him as long as you could, until the dizziness set in, the lightheadedness. “Jon,” you croaked, and when he didn’t relent, you had to relinquish your grip on his cock so you could grab at his hand.

Everything happened at lightning speed after that. He released your neck before snatching your hand off his cock, which he brought up to join its twin around his throat. “Do it,” he growled. The rush to your brain was heavier this time, quicker, and suddenly you felt as though you had the strength of ten Moxes. As serotonin, dopamine, and adrenaline surged, you wrapped both hands around him, fingers easily locating his bulging arteries where you applied as much pressure as you could muster. Your hips lowered until you felt the unyielding head of his cock press against your center as he stroked himself with wild abandon. “That’s it,” Jon forced out.

Maybe it was a little shameful, but you loved having him like this. His eyes feral, cheeks blossoming crimson blotches, your tiny hands clutching Jon Moxley’s throat. He could easily overpower you, but he chose not to. This huge, formidable, alpha of a man got off on being choked out by a woman less than half his size. He wanted to be at your mercy, he wanted you to bring him to the brink, and you were only too happy to oblige.

It wasn’t too long after that he ripped your hands from his throat, gasped, and you knew he had to be seeing stars, overwhelmed with life’s necessary needs, but he continued to work his cock, the head bumping against your clit. “Fuck,” he wheezed, orgasm ripping through him, his cum blasting your pussy, hand bumping rhythmically against that bundle of nerves, and you came too, without warning, juices leaking over his hand and dick.

Neither of you moved, your hands now resting on his chest as he lazily stroked his softening cock, massaging the head along your clit.

“Bad night?” you breathed.

“Not anymore.”

TAGLIST: @southerngirl41 @yourmommyagone22 @femdisa @riverina69 @jeypunkk @the-whatever-22 @rollinssection @paramedicnerd004 @brianochka @sweetmoonlove0214 @partypoison00 @missbmc94 @lils2795 @aureliacorvina @magicalbuttertarts @madimcg14 @lov3rla03 @plaidpajamallama @princesstiti14 @madhatterbri @atomicskincareeyelinerkid @aceywaycy @riddleebabyy @pyro-romantic @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @beyondthebelle @tweetthang96 @flowersbloom8787 @terrortwinunicorn @jazzyboo123-blog1 @neurodivergentempress

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #jon moxley fic #jon moxley fanfiction #jon moxley #jon moxley x reader #jon moxley x female reader #10-for-30 kink list

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bleach-your-panties · 1 year ago

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🔴Request: Kensei turns the tables and gets Shuuhei back with help from Kensei's s/o 😝

----

a/n: lmao, i started this years back and went digging in my docs to find it. y'all are giving me the tea with these requests and it is PIPING HOT, honey☕🍯😂

•the official sequel to this request & bonus material!

🛑warnings: 18+ mdni. exhibitionism, degradation, desk sex, oral (m!receiving), Kensei alluding to a possible orgy, Shuuhei's trauma karma , lmao.

Shuuhei trudged along to the 9th Division Communications Office early one morning after flopping oh-so ungracefully out of bed.

His captain, Kensei Muguruma, had called for an early morning meeting that was mandatory for him to attend.

Why did he have to be the only one in attendance? What about Mashiro?

The certain green-haired woman probably couldn't be found at the moment, so Kensei just gave up and took who he could get, who just so happened to be Shuuhei.

He grumbled silently to himself as he walked along, only lifting his head up to greet a few passing shinigami that said good morning to him.

Once he walked through the door, he spotted Kensei sitting at his desk shifting through some papers.

The white-haired man looked up at him with a small scowl on his face, and gestured for Shuuhei to sit down.

"What did you need to see me about, sir?" Shuuhei asked tentatively, not wanting to get the man riled up for any reason.

Kensei took a minute to respond, which puzzled Shuuhei for a moment.

He was about to repeat the question when he heard a soft but drawn-out 'ah' like someone inhaling a large gulp of air after having held their breath for a while.

'Okay, that's a bit…unsettling…' Shuuhei thought.

Kensei's face flashed from his usual intense look to a more relaxed one, the wrinkles between his brows disappearing for a microsecond before he was back to his typical glare.

"I found a lot of grammatical errors in your draft for next week's issue. Review it again."

He handed Shuuhei the folder with his work in it and the plum-haired male accepted it with an affirmative nod.

"Right, my apologies, sir. I'll take it home and begin revising it right now-"

There was that sound again.

Soft ah's and hm's and then an unmistakable sound that he was all-too-used to hearing throughout his own home.

Shuuhei dared to push himself away from the desk and let his eyes trail downwards and follow all the way from a sandaled foot and up a black-robe-clad back until they met the sight of your mouth latched onto Kensei's huge cock, your nose buried in his soft-looking, light grey pubic hair.

"AH! Oh my God! I-I'm s-so sorry, Muguruma-taicho! I didn't know that you-, I swear I didn't look; I mean I looked, but it was unintentional!"

Shuuhei continued his nervous babbling, bringing the folder up to cover his flustered, tattooed face.

"I-I'm a happily married man!" He decided to throw in there so that he didn't get killed fired.

Kensei sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes, but the latter was likely due to you moving your tongue to circle over one of the thick veins under his cock.

"Don't I know it? You say that like I didn't catch you in here fucking your wife on my fucking desk."

"I said I was sorry!"

"I don't give a fuck, just get out and - s-shit Y/N - fix your fucking blunders so we can get this shit published."

"Yes sir! S-sorry again, sir!"

Shuuhei ran out of that office as fast as his legs could carry him. He was moving so fast, you'd think he was using sonido.

"Is he gone?"

"Yeah, and now I can get back to work. That means you can get back to work as well, slut."

"Yes sir, Muguruma-taicho~"

—-

A little later that evening, Shuuhei had finished his revisions and decided to drop it back off by the office before heading to his s/o's division to pick her up for a surprise dinner date.

Big mistake.

"Taichou, I finished those revisions that you asked me to m- OH GOD!"

Kensei had you propped up on your knees on the top of his desk, facing the door. Your mouth was gagged with your white obi and his rope-belt had your wrists secured in front of you while he held your legs apart by the ankles.

Thank God Shuuhei couldn't see Kensei's dick pummeling you from the back, but he could see how the grey-haired man's movements had you and the entire desk lurching forward, not to mention your breasts swaying and bouncing out of your shinigami robes.

"Drop it on the desk there and since you like walking in on me so much, why don't you bring s/o and I can show you how to really fuck a whore."

Shuuhei almost broke his neck turning the corner to get the fuck out of there.

'No, no thank you! She gets fucked pretty well I'd say, and I'd like to just erase the image of your grey pubes out of my head, please and thanks.' He rolled his eyes and huffed, getting the fuck away from the 9th Division offices.

Next time Kensei called a random meeting, Shuuhei would hunt Mashiro down by force and drag her there by her stupid orange scarf if he had to.

----

ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ!

#kensei muguruma #shuuhei hisagi #kensei muguruma x reader smut #kensei x reader smut #kensei muguruma smut #bleach kensei #bleach scenarios #kensei smut #kensei x reader #💗💗🍡°bleach masterlist #💗💗🍡°anon-chan #💗💗🍡°valued customers #💗💗🍡°requests #divider by cafekitsune

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writeraven · 8 months ago

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FFXIVWRITE 2024 — 01: STEER.

The Final Days were upon us. Meteors falling from the crimson sky, Blood painting the burning land, Weapons out, back to back, Once comrades, now fiends, Surrounded by despair… Will we live to see the next sunrise?

TAGS: [ isorawrites. » FFXIVwrite » 2024 ]

FANDOM: Final Fantasy XIV.

VERSE: Endwalker » MSQ.

STATUS: Submitted; 1 chapter.

GENRES: Draft, Flash Fiction.

SHIPS: Murderomantiques.

MUSES: Sora Amariyo, Yiuno Reine.

NPC: Scions of the Dawn (mentioned).

steer /stɪə/ noun; informal a piece of advice or information concerning the development of a situation.

Counting was never something that Sora Amariyo was good at. Like the chakrams that sliced their ways through the fiends with a blur, her mind was hazy as she kept repeating the same actions over and over again… But there seemed to be no end to these monsters that continued to burst forth, amongst screaming locals scuttering all over the place.

When will this end?

Her arms felt heavier with each swing; her waist was screaming against her lead-like legs that were lagging behind, and she felt disjointed with her body, the world around her…

“Sora.”

A gloved hand caught her spinning frame as she dived headfirst into the torso of someone much bigger and taller. Looking up, she pursed her lips at the muted disapproval on her mentor’s face.

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I know,” Sora huffed, pushing herself away from the Viera. “But there’s no end to this.” She glanced briefly at the Scions, who were also struggling to keep up. Shrugging, she readied her glaives and prepared to make a dash through the hordes…

Only to be stopped again by Yiuno. The latter pulled her aside, just in time for a claw swipe to narrowly miss her hair by a few ilms. Unable to break out of her guardian’s iron grip, she went limp, but not without an angry chirp.

“What is your deal?”

With a sigh, Yiuno finally released the Warrior of Darkness. “I’m not here to babysit you, young lady. Either we work together as partners, or you’re going to get yourself killed in this chaos.”

Sora couldn’t believe her ears (or horns, to be exact). “Do you really think of me as your—”

“Get moving,” Yiuno cut her off curtly, but not without a slight hint of pink on his pale cheeks. “If you don’t want to die just yet, I suggest we save the idle chit-chats for later.”

Support me on Ko-fi — https://ko-fi.com/whyraven. Thank you very much for your continuous support☕

#isorawrites.#— murderomantiques #sora amariyo #yiuno reine #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #ffxiv writing #ffxiv #— events #— submitted

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translations-by-aiimee · 2 years ago

Text

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 21

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Buy me a Ko-fi ☕

Chapter 21 - Paying Homage to Our Ancestors

Song Qingshi got up early and took Yue Wuhuan to the ancestral hall to pay respect to his ancestors.

The ancestral hall, which other sects attach great importance to, is remote and inconspicuous in Medicine King Valley, hidden in the trees, dilapidated and not much better than the medicinal servants' residence. Outside of the ancestral hall was a medicinal garden. Yue Wuhuan had passed by several times and thought it was an abandoned building and ignored it.

Song Qingshi pushed open the door, sealed by an array.

There was a thick pile of dust inside the ancestral hall, and apart from the simple tables, chairs and offering table, there was only an old painted scroll.

"Actually, it doesn't matter if you lock it. There aren't any valuables," Song Qingshi explained with some embarrassment. "I haven't been here for many years. Wait a minute while I clean it up." Then he rolled up his sleeves and first used a cool breeze spell to blow away the dust. After throwing cleansing spells everywhere, he set up an incense bowl on the altar and put flowers and fruits around it. Finally, he found a broken mat, patted the dust off with his hands, and said with satisfaction, "All done."

Yue Wuhuan stood beside him, holding the incense in a daze. He had never seen such an unrefined sect in his life. . .

Song Qingshi unrolled the painted scroll on the offering table and hung it up.

The scroll had no figures or inscriptions, only a boundless sea of clouds. A brilliant light beamed through the depths of the sea of clouds, lighting up the sky.

Song Qingshi tried his best to explain: "I accidentally got the inheritance from my ancestors in the hidden realm. My ancestors didn't leave a name, only the surname Song. I didn't have a surname then, so I took my ancestor's surname as a sign of respect. . ."

There were a lot of killings in the immortal world. Many children had lost their parents. His original body was one of them. Because he was born with two kinds of spiritual abilities and had a very high talent for medicine and poisons, he accidentally obtained the Medicine King's inheritance in the hidden realm and created the Medicine King's Valley. Practicing medicine and treating diseases, refining alchemy to make poisons, and occasionally going to the hidden realm to grab some rare medicines unknowingly helped gain the sect the reputation it has today.

"This inheritance in the immortal world was placed directly into my consciousness, so this painting is the only physical material left by the late master. I guess it has special sentimental value, so I used it as an offering. In fact, I don't know what the painting is about. It may be a landscape. . ." Song Qingshi, feeling guilty about his random assessment, quickly dismissed it. "Anyway, I have copied all the manuscripts that are suitable for inheriting the sect and put them in the library. You can read them yourself."

After Song Qingshi finished his introduction, he felt confident that he hadn't missed anything and instructed Yue Wuhuan to offer incense.

Yue Wuhuan lit the incense respectfully. When he was about to kneel down, the incense went out.

He re-lit the incense, knelt down again, and the incense went out once more.

Yue Wuhuan looked at Song Qingshi worriedly: "Could it be. . . the master doesn't want to accept me as a disciple?"

"Impossible. You're so smart. The late master couldn't be happier." Song Qingshi waved his hand. He lowered his head and pondered for a moment, "Speaking of which, I don't recall ever having kneeled here before. Every time I come here, I clean up and leave after I burn incense. I must have forgotten. . . I guess the late master might not like being bowed to by his disciples, so try offering incense directly."

Yue Wuhuan dubiously inserted the burning incense into the burner, stood up and saluted.

Sure enough, the incense in the burner burned steadily and didn't go out.

Yue Wuhuan couldn't help asking: "Is this disrespectful to the ancestors?"

"The late master didn't like these sorts of things. He liked. . ." Song Qingshi recalled the inheritance that the original body received. Those inheritances were full of knowledge, leaving almost no personal traces except a very interesting word, which seemed to be his motto, "Question."

Question authority, question knowledge, question everything in the world.

Questioning is the driving force behind scientific research.

Song Qingshi wasted a lot of energy explaining his philosophy to Yue Wuhuan: "The late master didn't want us to respect him personally. What he wanted us to respect was knowledge, to carry out his philosophy, to study well, to study carefully, and to never hesitate to question what he left behind just because he was the master. Although Master was very powerful, he could still make mistakes. We have to find the correct answer in the neverending mistakes."

Yue Wuhuan hesitated: "The correct answer?"

Song Qingshi said happily: "Well, I've already studied and proved several mistakes of my master and re-revised the answers."

His theory can be described as shocking in the immortal world where masters are respected.

Yue Wuhuan was too shocked to speak.

"Perhaps this is the root of Medicine King's Valley foundation," Song Qingshi said longingly. "If I die, I hope to be like my master, to not have my disciples worship, and to not leave portraits and names for future generations to admire. These things are a waste of time. If you have the time to do these things, you might as well use it for research. It's better to finish the projects I haven't finished, correct the mistakes I made, and create more interesting. . ."

Before he finished speaking, Yue Wuhuan yanked his arm heavily, interrupting his thoughts.

Yue Wuhuan stared at him fiercely. His face was as gloomy as a sky about to rain. He almost gritted his teeth and said, "Don't say such unlucky things..."

Song Qingshi finally came to his senses and said with a smile, "Don't worry, I'm talking about the end of my life."

Medical students aren't afraid to talk about life and death, and he didn't feel that this topic was anything special.

Yue Wuhuan panicked and interrupted sternly: "Don't say that!"

Song Qingshi realized that he was really angry. He thought about his psychological problems and obediently shut up.

Yue Wuhuan also knew he should bow his head, but he didn't want to apologize.

The two were silent for a long time and finally silently pretended that this topic had never happened.

The worship ceremony was completed.

. . .

Song Qingshi liked to eat sweets, especially sorbet. Yue Wuhuan was very picky about the taste, thinking that the ones bought from outside weren't good enough and too dirty, and there was no good cook in Medicine King's Valley, so he took the time to study various sweet food preparation methods. Every day, he cooked all kinds of sweet food for him in different ways, which was especially delicious.

After An Long discovered Song Qingshi's private stove, he became incredibly grabby and tried to get Yue Wuhuan to cook for him too.

Song Qingshi was instantly angry: "Is my eldest disciple a waiter?"

An Long didn't care about such reasoning. He made a big fuss, just wanting to eat desserts made by Yue Wuhuan.

"Forget it. He's very busy," Song Qingshi lost his temper. He put down his book, rolled up his sleeves and said, "I'll do it for you."

An Long's eyes lit up with joy.

Although Song Qingshi loved sweets, he didn't go out of his way to eat them. He was fine whether he ate them or not. In the original world, he was the eldest young master who only had to stretch his hand out for food. In this world, he would rather fast than make food, so he had never been in a kitchen in either of his two lifetimes. His brain was filled with tens of thousands of herbs but had no place for oil, salt, sauce or vinegar. . .

He stood in the kitchen in a daze for a while, trying to figure out how to use various utensils. He couldn't find a recipe and didn't know how to make fire with ordinary firewood, so he simply used spiritual fire and made dessert like alchemy.

Finally, after mucking around for a long time, he brought out a plate of round dumplings with charred black skin, each of which was exactly the same size and shade of charred blackness. Perfectly satisfying for anyone with OCD.

"These are green dumplings." Song Qingshi had always been brave in the face of failure. He took out the finished product to prove that he had tried hard. He then said, "It probably won't taste good, so I should throw them away. I'll ask the cook to make something for you. As long as it doesn't bother Wuhuan, anything is fine.”

An Long smiled and watched, then suddenly picked up a dumpling and threw it into his mouth.

Song Qingshi didn't have time to stop An Long from indiscriminately eating them, so he was a little worried about diarrhea.

An Long chewed it carefully for a long time and praised: "It doesn't look like much, but the taste is actually alright."

Immediately afterwards, he happily threw a few more dumpings into his mouth until only the last one remained.

Song Qingshi was dumbfounded. Even he didn't dare taste this stuff after it came out of the oven. Was it really edible? So, in a brave and challenging mood, he put the last dumpling into his mouth and chewed it. The explosive taste rushed over his taste buds in an instant. The fishy taste was worse than the most bitter medicine and was bad enough to make him nauseous.

Song Qingshi was so disgusted that tears came out of his eyes. He quickly spit out the dumplings, gesturing to An Long speechlessly.

An Long slapped the table and laughed crazily, so much that he couldn't sit upright.

He was like this in the past. He would be willing to hurt himself in order to make fun of the original body. He has a good grasp of how low he could go before he went too far with the original body, so he could successfully walk on the thin line of death every time. When he saw that Song Qingshi was about to explode, he quickly wiped away the tears from laughing, regained his dignity, and added: "I'll never ask Yue Wuhuan for food again."

Song Qingshi instantly dissipated his anger.

An Long said playfully: "It's only the first time you made it. It's precious. You must try again."

When Song Qingshi thought about his creation, he felt a little embarrassed.

An Long chased after him: "By the way, do you want to see the new poison I developed? It's very cute."

Song Qingshi immediately forgot such insignificant things as dumplings and happily dragged him to the research room.

On the way, An Long smiled and asked, "You're really nervous about this darling Yue Wuhuan. What's wrong with him?"

Song Qingshi glanced at him vigilantly, unwilling to answer this private question, and instructed: "Don't mess around."

An Long pondered: "That's interesting. . ."

The more Song Qingshi didn't allow things to get messy, the more he wanted to mess things up.

How fun is it to mess around?

. . .

After finishing sword practice, Yue Wuhuan was returning to his room to shower and change clothes. When he passed by the corridor, a small paper ball hit the back of his head.

The ball of paper fell on the ground and rolled around. It seemed like there was something wrapped inside it.

Right now is when Song Qingshi does pharmaceutical experiments and can't be disturbed. . . So he squatted down obediently, picked up the paper ball according to the other party's wishes, and slowly unfolded it.

Wrapped in the paper ball was a terrifying double-headed centipede, with countless legs wriggling and disgusting mucus flowing from its two grotesque mandibles. It opened its teeth and claws to pounce on him.

Yue Wuhuan thought about it and wrapped it in the paper again. He threw it away and said angrily, "Immortal An, don't do such childish things."

"What? Qingshi's not here, and suddenly you're too lazy to pretend to be good?" An Long laughed and came out from behind the screen wall. He beckoned, and the centipede immediately crawled out of the paper ball and returned to his palm, "This little guy isn't poisonous. It’s just for scaring people. Every time it can scare a beauty into screaming and trembling, it’s very fun. Why aren’t you afraid at all? I’m a little disappointed.”

Yue Wuhuan said helplessly: "If the Immortal Master wants it, I can scream for you."

"Don't, it'll sound too fake. I won't like it," An Long flipped his hands, and the centipede disappeared. He walked over lazily, looked Yue Wuhuan up and down curiously, and praised, "I never thought that a man could be so beautiful. Even more beautiful than Miss Wan in Mingyue Tower. I know you only like men, but still, I don't feel disgusted."

Mingyue Tower was a famous brothel in the immortal world, and Miss Wan was a famous prostitute.

This analogy was extremely malicious.

But Yue Wuhuan didn't care. He smiled and said: "I've heard that Immortal An's confidantes are all over the world and have seen countless beauties. Many immortal maidens and devils are jealous and have even fought over you. Today, it's a great honour for Wuhuan to be praised for his beauty."

"Young Master Wuhuan is joking," An Long heard him secretly mocking his flirtations and was amused, "My confidantes can't compare to the many that must be fascinated with you. I once knew a friend, what was his name? He's still a hero following a righteous path. He can't forget about you. Knowing that you have willingly entered Medicine King's Valley and can no longer get close to him, he gets drunk and complains a lot."

Yu Qing talked nonsense after drinking in Xilin, which tarnished Song Qingshi's reputation, so he killed him and sent his body to Medicine King's Valley for research.

Yue Wuhuan pretended not to understand: "I never remember dead people."

An Long sneered and said, "Beauties are so ruthless."

"Yes, prostitutes are ruthless and heartless." Yue Wuhuan pointed out his sarcasm. He raised his head, brushed his hair that was wet from the sweat from practicing sword practice behind his ears, and walked a few steps. He lazily leaned against the corridor's screen wall, raised his eyes, and asked provocatively: "Immortal An, don't you think it's interesting to be alive?"

An Long followed and bent down. He pressed his arm tattooed with the five poisonous creatures tightly against the screen wall next to his ear. He towered over him, smiling wickedly, and took off his disguise, baring his sharp wolf teeth: "I think I think you're a funny little fake. I want to know what's hidden under this beauty's skin. Let me have a look, okay?"

Yue Wuhuan smiled and asked: "Is Immortal An interested in my true face?"

An Long frivolously pinched his chin and forcefully lifted it. He examined his face carefully, leaned forward, and said fiercely: "Very interested."

Yue Wuhuan looked at him quietly for a moment and reminded him: "Master seems to have finished his experiments ahead of schedule."

An Long withdrew his hand quickly. He panicked momentarily before suddenly remembering that he had blocked Song Qingshi's spiritual detection so he wouldn't be discovered.

Yue Wuhuan lowered his head and held back his smile.

"You dare lie to me?!" Realizing he had been tricked, An Long was furious and wanted to flash his claws at this ignorant guy.

In an instant, a spiritual fire rose under his feet.

An Long sensed the crisis and immediately jumped away.

Immediately afterwards, several spiritual fires forced him to retreat several feet away.

Song Qingshi appeared behind him, wishing he could smash An Long to death with spiritual fire for bullying his little angel without a second thought. Fortunately, Yue Wuhuan had reminded him that he should secretly use his divine sense to check what An Long was doing while he was here; otherwise, this dead dog could have torn down Medicine King's Valley! Although high-level cultivators were able to isolate the divine mind from detection, when he found that An Long's aura had suddenly disappeared from the research room, he realized something was wrong. He thought he was going to hide and do bad things, so he came here after discovering Yue Wuhuan's location.

An Long pointed at Yue Wuhuan, so angry that he couldn't speak properly: "You!"

Yue Wuhuan whispered aggrievedly: "I didn't lie."

Song Qingshi rushed to Yue Wuhuan in one large step. He carefully checked whether he was injured, and asked nervously, "Did this guy bully you?"

Although he didn't see what had happened, it didn't take much thought about who was right and who was wrong between the fierce and domineering An Long and the cute little angel. Was there much to consider when comparing who's stronger and weaker between a mentally fragile patient and a rough and thick-skinned immortal? What's more, An Long can kill Yue Wuhuan a hundred times over with just one finger! He must take good care of his little angel! Not just for the investment but to protect him!

Song Qingshi was eccentric and magnanimous, and frankly, he was justified.

An Long glared desperately at Yue Wuhuan behind his back, the kind of gaze that held a particularly strong deterrent effect.

Yue Wuhuan looked at it and said softly and protectively: "No, Immortal An is quite nice. He's joking with me."

Song Qingshi looked back at An Long suspiciously. The spiritual fire on his body was still burning, and there was a faint urge to switch to a poisonous fire.

An Long instantly switched to a pure smile: "I wouldn't dare bully him. I'm just chatting casually and telling jokes."

"Yes," Yue Wuhuan continued to persuade. "Master, I seldom go out, so I'm quite curious about the outside world. Immortal An is good-natured and had a lot of interesting things to share. I'm happy to listen."

An Long grabbed Yue Wuhuan's shoulders and patted his chest. He laughed, "He and I hit it off right away. We just want to be friends."

Yue Wuhuan admitted with a smile: "Immortal An really didn't bully me."

Song Qingshi gradually extinguished the flame and doubtfully asked: "Is that so?"

The two of them nodded at the same time: "Yes."

Song Qingshi was a little confused and scratched his head. When he saw An Long blocking Yue Wuhuan from leaving with a domineering posture, he felt angry. He really didn't understand what they were doing. Could it be a misunderstanding?

"You go first. I'll find you next time to play a little longer," An Long greeted Yue Wuhuan with a hidden threat. and then dragged Song Qingshi away as quickly as he could. "Come on, let's see if the petri dish from yesterday has any results."

"Don't be angry. I really dare not bully your glass man."

"Rule 72."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop talking about it. Have a drink with me."

"I don't want to."

". . ."

Yue Wuhuan saluted politely and watched the two leave.

The King of Xilin Poison stood in a high position all year round. He didn't need to think many things through. Violence was enough to crush everything.

Therefore, his temptations and thoughts were superficial and very easy to guess.

It's just investigating his miserable past that brought up despicable suspicion; suspicion that he had someone backing him up, suspicion that he had evil intentions for Medicine King's Valley, suspicion of his ambitions, and even suspicion that he had feelings for Song Qingshi. But he was also worried that if there was no evidence, Song Qingshi would tear him apart, unwilling to actually investigate. He wanted to find an excuse to wind him up, try to find out his true face little by little, and then crush him to death.

This matter isn't difficult to solve.

Since the King of Xilin Poison wants to see his true face, then he'll show him his true face.

He hoped he could take it. . .

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