#I'm a wet wet puddle of tears now

[shiraishi-kanade]

So, I kept thinking about the sustain pedal joke I made about this moment.

(which I mistakenly called suspension pedal in my original post - I don't know why, I guess I was sleepy)

And the more I think about it, the more beautiful it becomes to me.

Because - hey, proseka definitely does mystify music quite a bit, but it's still realistic at it's core; and realistically, there's nothing other in a piano that could produce such an effect. Especially in piano: sure, there's difference between slamming on the key and pressing it gently and with intention - but it was probably still the pedal.

(Mostly because the sound I heard definitely made me think it's played with a sustain pedal, and hey, let's pretend I know something about music.)

The image of baby Touya being fascinated by something that simple as a sustained note was funny and a little ridiculous for me before, but it's really not, is it?

Imagine this: Touya, three years old, is sitting on the bench for the first time, his stature so incredibly small against the giant instrument, and he presses a note for the first time. His feet don't reach the pedals yet - he probably didn't even notice them at all, like I used to, - he doesn't understand why he sounds so different from his father, how his father sounds so much better when playing - that must've felt like some sort of incredible feat, a blessing, of some sorts, to play so beautifully.

(He doesn't know yet that in just a couple of years he'll he playing with the same beauty, his mistakes discernable to his father and himself, of course, but the story of the piece, the shape, the emotion of it - that's what the audience hears more than any imperfection,)

A pedal. How simple. And how, at the same time, it's anything but.

How many generations upon generations of musicians have perfected their craft before him, how many started with just one key? How many composers and masters came before him so that piano has the shape and sound we know it today? To create the piano's ancestors, the harpsichord, and the clavichord before it?

Because in every single instrument, every single iteration of it, there's love. For Touya's piano to have the shape that it does, the sound, the tuning (the tuning!), the 88 keys, 56 white and 36 black ones, seven full octaves and three more keys, for that sustain pedal to exist in the first place, someone out there had to love music so earnestly, so honestly that their love kept the instrument alive, that shaped it into the virtuosic one we know it to be today. Every piece written, every variation, every note placed the way that it is, so many mechanisms, tender and complicated, that someone had to put together so painstakingly in order for the music to take form and then become the standard.

Centuries of history, for a child to fall in love with it at the first touch.

That is music. That's the purest, most innocent essence of it. It always has been.

That's what Touya is about, too. He loves music, he falls in love with it so easily and honestly. The first time, when he's three, when he doesn't know anything other than his father and the piano, when the strictness of his father and the pain it will bring later is at the periphery of his vision - but not there enough to make him afraid of it more than he's excited to learn, to play.

The second time, when he's fifteen, full of shame and guilt and regret, and when he meets Akito - and he falls in love with music, again, and again, when he sees Rad Weekend for the first time, and when he sees it for what it truly was (a testament of overwhelming, irrefutable love that is there to stay forever, unlike...) - but he knows better now.

Because oh, Touya understands loving something. He understands loving music. He loves music so much it's stupid, he loves it so much that he forgives it for anything, for all the pain and suffering, because what else is Touya, too, if not a testament of that love - his father's, his family's, and thousands of musicians that came before him?

And now, that love, just as overwhelming and undeniable as RADder's love - that love is now a weapon in Aoyagi Touya's hand, something more powerful than anyone else could have ever given him.

Because that childlike innocence and fascination in little Touya's eyes, and everything that allowed it to happen is the clearest evidence of love that lives, by design, in art itself.

I just... I just think he's neat, okay?

[keeps-ache]

wailing at the sky I'm tired ! ! ! ! ! !

[usedtobecooler]

thinking about being eddie and steve's little cock hungry fucktoy <;3

content warnings: sexual content (18+ minors dni), mmf threesome, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, nipple play, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation.

eddie's underneath you, thick cock rocking into your tight hole until you're gasping and writhing around on top of him. he has you pinned, large hands grabbing at squishy handfuls of your inner thighs to keep you spread wide for steve as he slides two fingers into your dripping cunt.

your hands grapple for purchase behind your head, settling in eddie's unruly curls and tugging hard — he punches his hips upwards, rocking your limp body until your head lolls back onto his shoulder, pushing his cock further into your ass and splitting you apart from the inside out. you cry out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

it feels so good that all coherency has evaporated, brain turning to a puddle of mush — steve grins at you, crooks his fingers upwards until you're rutting into his hand, rocking yourself down on them both in tandem. eddie grunts, slapping his hand down on your thigh, the loud crack of skin connecting with skin echoing in the electricity-filled room.

"think we can get another one out of her, harrington?" eddie's gravelly, thick voice bounces in your ears, his chest vibrating and sending the shockwaves through your back, leaving you shivering and begging silently, arching into him and baring your throat.

you're dumb. reduced to nothing more than a cock hungry whore, pliant under large, roaming hands. aching to be filled and used however they want you.

you'd lost count of how many times they'd made you cum already. in the back of your mind you think it's surpassed six, at least. your clit swollen and tender from fingers and tongues and teeth.

steve knew that, knew your cunt needed filled now, clit thrumming and all feeling lost in it a few orgasms ago. the rough pads of his fingertips brush over that fucking spot, pressing down on the spongey softness of it until you're keening.

he cackles. tan, mole flecked skin gleaming with sweat in the luminescence of the sun shining through the crack in the curtains — god, when did daylight break? how long had you been like this? your mind races, eyes crossing as eddie slowly, languidly fucks your ass, huffing small groans into your ear, smearing wet hot kisses on the junction where your neck meets your collarbone.

"i think we could easily get more than one from her, c'mon, look how desperate she is. feel how desperate she is." steve looks at eddie over your shoulder, cocking his head to the side, crooking his fingers at the same time — your tummy quivers, pussy fluttering around the long digits sinking in and out, making sloppy sounds that sound like heaven to both men.

"i— i'm not—" your eyebrows marry together as you struggle to form a sentence, sweat matting your hair to your forehead as you're rocked back and forth between the both of them. they're talking about you like you're not even there — using and abusing your holes and taking you for everything you've got. it makes you all the more dizzy, knowing they're thinking of you as nothing more than a dirty sex toy to pass around.

eddie chuckles, pouting enough that you can feel it when his lips purse against your heated skin, "aww, sweetheart. nothing going on in that tiny little brain of yours, huh?" he taunts, palms at the thick fat of your inner thigh again, this time soothing and squeezing it, setting your body alight.

steve's thumb swipes over your abused clit and you swear your vision whites out for a moment — it feels bruised, battered, enough so that it almost hurts when he brushes it. teeters on the right side of too much.

they worked together too well, steve and eddie. knowing glances between them had all four hands, all twenty fingers working together to work you up and push you over the edge in a record time. the deep, burning heat pooling in your belly and igniting just as quick.

the force of your orgasm shocks you — wracks through you until you're vibrating and clenching down around them both. eddie loses a slight bit of composure, whining high pitched as you hold his cock prisoner in the tight heat of your ass, pussy gushing even wetter than before and dripping down his balls.

"'atta girl, honey," steve coos, always more gentle than eddie and sure to give you the praise he knew you deserved, fingers slipping deftly from your cunt — only to be replaced just as quickly by the blunt, thick head of his cock.

you cry out, wiggling away but helpless to it. you're pinned in place at either side, two weighty, hard bodies holding you hostage. steve's cock slides into you with minimal resistance, pressing snug in the tight walls of your pussy.

you don't miss the way eddie groans, pushes up into your ass and moves his hands from your spread legs to grip at steve momentarily — "holy shit, can fucking feel you splitting her open, jesus christ."

they both give you a moment, if you could even call it that, before they're giving each other a knowing look over your shoulder. they look at each other like you're not even there, a silent agreement as they begin fucking you.

and it's not slow. at all. it's fast, brutal, teeters on violent as steve slides out and sinks back in, simultaneously pushing you down onto eddie and forcing him deeper into your ass until you're practically screaming.

it feels so fucking good you're sick with it. you're so full you feel like you could be torn open, but the way they work together with roaming hands and heavy bodies eases and relaxes you until you're nothing but a whimpering, begging cockwhore.

"who do you fuckin' belong to, baby, huh?" eddie's voice is unwavering, hands roaming from your waist to your tits that bounce with every harsh thrust, fingers gripping and twisting at your nipples until you're wailing and thrashing around on top of him, pushing both of their cocks out slightly, "use your words. now."

steve's hips piston into yours, emphasizing the brutal force by rolling his pelvis when he's buried as deep as he can go. you're so stupid and hazy you can't reply. all you can do is grab onto the meat of steve's bicep and cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks as every part of your body is set on fire with rough touches.

"answer him, don't be a brat," steve grunts, gripping under your thigh to bend your leg upwards to your chest, somehow opening you up so he can fuck into you deeper, harder.

"i'm—" you choke on your words, eyes rolling into your skull when steve's blunt cockhead catches on your spongey wall just right and drags, "fuck, fuck — m'yours, yours, all yours."

the clapping of their hips against yours increases tenfold as your pussy floods and gushes for them, eddie grunting and pulling at your nipples until you wail, steve biting and nipping at your collarbone.

you're reduced to nothing more than a set of holes for them to use as they please. you don't want it to end, never want it to stop.

eddie's tongue is sharp, a deep, rumbling laugh escaping him, "perfect, sweetheart. that's it, fuck. you gonna let us both cum in you, hmm? fill you up nice? you love it, being used like a cumrag, don't you?"

steve grunts from where he mouths at your flushed skin, hips stuttering, "shut your filthy fucking mouth, munson," he snarks, bitchy, "you're gonna make me cum too quick."

"don't worry, steve. i'm right there with you," eddie admits, "she's so fucking tight, goddamn you should feel it. if she ever lets you in her ass, that is."

you want to yell 'i'm right here!' — instead all that comes out is a desperate, whimpering moan, as your orgasm crescendos and washes over you in tidal waves. the stimulation hitting you like a freight train all at once and driving you over the edge.

you feel your cunt gushing, both holes clenching and unclenching sporadically as you cum, hard. the breath feels like it's knocked from your lungs, winding you. body going limp as you flop around like a ragdoll between both men.

"so good for us, sweet girl, oh fuck, fuck," steve groans, gripping onto your thigh tight enough to leave bruises as his cock kicks up and pulses inside of you, painting your cunt in his cum. you feel it paint your insides, hot and sticky, drooling from your aching, used walls.

"jesusfuckingchrist," you barely register eddie's voice as he pulls you down by the hips and practically impales you on his cock, rocking your hips back and forth on him and biting down on your shoulder until tears prick at your eyes. he grunts and moans into your salty skin, hands rough yet soothing on your sore hips as he unloads in you.

they apologise for being so rough later on, in their own ways. steve showers you down gently and kisses every last mark they left behind with soft lips. eddie tickles and rubs your back until you fall asleep, leaving you a pliant, contented mess of limbs.

[holybibly]

Today's unholy hours, bunnies

"This is exactly what you wanted, doll. Isn't it? Just what you need. Am I right?" Yeosang whispered in your ear, his deep, husky voice sending a shiver down the length of your spine.

The sound of your soft, half-choked moaning rang out in the evening silence of the practically empty library. The corner behind the tall bookshelves provided enough privacy for the two of you at this late hour, hiding you from the staff and other students who might accidentally wander into the most remote section of the Ancient Korean Literature section.

Yeosang's sneering laugh is accompanied by a particularly hard thrust of his hips while his cold, hard hands press you more firmly against the wooden table.

"And what? I'm not going to get a single sarcastic comment from you to answer that, bunny? The cat's got your tongue."

Any attempt at a reply or contradiction is cut short by the powerful, deep thrusts of Yeosang's hips as he drives his thick, wiry cock deeper into your screaming, needy cunt. He was fucking you so hard and so fast that it practically knocked all the air out of your lungs.

You hated him. You hated him so fucking much, but the feeling was stronger than you. Yeosang was making you crazy, and trying to deny feeling attracted to him was just stupid.

You wanted to turn away from the wicked, sneering grin on the handsome blond sempai's face, but he wouldn't let you. Yoe kept your fierce, defiant gaze on his angelic face, digging his fingers into your soft cheek and covering your mouth with his palm, so that you could barely breathe, choking on your own moans as Yeosang continued to fuck you mercilessly.

"Such obedience; I like you much more like this, doll~"

Your hands clutched at his shirt, crumpling the once perfectly ironed fabric, your nails scratching across his collarbones and the bulging muscles of his chest, leaving bright red scratches on his skin, when you rolled your eyes at the feeling of the orgasm that was about to come. Fuck, it was too good to be true, and you knew full well that you'd be kicking yourself for it afterwards, but fuck, Yeosang was fucking divine.

Who would have thought that your angelic sempai, Kang Yeosang, could be a real freak in bed?

You couldn't even make a sound of protest—just a whimper as he slowed his movements, denying you pleasure for the third time today. Fucking bastard. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you squirmed in your seat, letting out a muffled, frustrated moan that was too loud, even though Yeosang was still covering your mouth with his hand. The sharp sensation of your orgasm slowly began to fade into a small, pulsating stream of pleasure.

You were so wet you were probably sitting in a puddle of your own slime, judging by the nasty squelching sound you heard when Yeosang's cock was halfway out of your cunt. The amusement that danced in his foxy hazel eyes was so obvious and only grew as you raised your tearful puppy eyes up to him, and your coarseness and defiance dissolved into a silent plea for him to finally let you cum.

"Oh, wilful little slut wants to cum? Not such a cheeky little thing anymore, Y/N, eh? I told you to be quiet, doll. If you want to finally come on my cock, be quiet; otherwise, I'll be the one who cum tonight." That's how deep and sultry his voice was; it was just illegal. How could you resist him?

You nod desperately at what he says, and Yeosang responds by smiling smugly. The sweet expression on his face hides his sinister intentions as he begins to move again, this time with an even harder and more brutal thrust. His taut balls slap against your pussy with each rhythmic movement, and you bite his hand, causing the handsome sempai to hiss slightly in pain.

"You little bitch..." Yeosang hissed, changing the angle of his movements so that the head of his thick cock was now hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, and this time he had no intention of stopping.

You tensed, feeling the almost painful throbbing of your approaching orgasm, your eyes rolling back as wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure washed over you, shaking you to the core. For all your hatred of Yeosang, it was worth it. His cock was made of fucking gold.

His moans were barely audible as you clenched around his cock, his warm, thick seed staining the walls of your womb, and your pussy seemed to pull him even deeper in and hold him there, clinging tightly to the velvety length of his cock. All your senses were overloaded with pleasure, and every heavy sigh and every growling wheeze that Yeosang emitted seemed to prolong your orgasm, driving you deeper and deeper into a state of euphoria until you felt no connection to your body and black dots began to dance before your eyes.

When you finally managed to regain consciousness, you were lying on his lap, and your clothes had been returned to the tidy state they had been in before. You looked lazily around, still feeling heavy and unable to move. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as your still slightly unfocused gaze fell on the book in his hand.

"Are you serious, Yeosang? Classical poetry? You've just fucked my brains out, and you're still behave yourself like a good boy? Of course, the exemplary sempai, Kang Yeosang."

"Ah, now that cheeky mouth of yours is back again. I guess you haven't learned your lesson, doll; you have to be quiet in the library."

[sgtgarricks]

afab reader x john price ♡

you've been having a rough week.

anything that could have gone wrong has happened and you were left feeling exhausted and drained. barely having the energy to even get upset. all you wanted to do was sink into your boyfriend's arms and cry your heart out.

but john had been gone for a few weeks now, and it felt like hell. 'course it's not like you blame him for being away, but you really wished he was here instead of wherever he was.

as you open the door to your apartment after your shift, you were already dreading the amount of kitchenware left in the sink. the pile had been steadily growing little by little and you could only heave a sigh.

the sight that greets you instead, is john price gently wiping the wet mug he had recently scrubbed with a dry towel. your breath was stuck in your throat, you could barely remember turning around and locking the door before running straight into his arms.

"hi, sweetheart." his big arms immediately engulf you in warmth, hearing his soft voice cooing internally melting you into a puddle. before he could say anything more, you break into tears.

not the sniffles kind, the wet, sobbing kind. you grip his shirt tightly as you sob into his shirt, all the sadness and exhaustion rolling from you in waves.

john said nothing, opting to hug you tighter and kissing the top of your head.

"i'm here love, i'm here." his words make you cry even more, having missed him tremendously. you don't even know how you eventually ended up on the bed, head tucked towards his chest as he continues to caress you soothingly.

you had one of the best sleeps of your life that night. and an even better morning when you wake up to the smell of breakfast and his kisses peppering your face.

[leighsartworks216]

You Have Me

Sylus x gn!Reader

Sooooo I got this idea suddenly and I had to write it.... I'm sorry 😭

Warnings: major character death, love confession, unrequited love, blood, angst, hurt no comfort, forehead kiss

Word Count: 650

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You weren’t making it out of this. You had to accept that. Had to remain one with the fact that your blood was leaking out of your wounds too fast. That you can’t move without making things worse.

You know it the second Sylus lays his eyes on you. The way his jaw tightens and brow pinches together. He kneels in front of you, in a growing puddle of red. When he finally meets your eyes, he must recognize the realization in them. You’re dimly aware of Luke and Kieran shouting for help as they run through the building. It would never get here in time.

“I warned you about rushing in, kitten,” he chastises. It holds no venom. You shiver and he takes off his jacket to cover you. It does nothing to stave off the cold.

You huff. “I had to protect her,” you say. “I had to save her, for you.”

The her in question hesitates at the doorway. All her Hunter training flees from her mind. She would have been where you sat now, had you not jumped in to save her like you did. She owed you her life. You wouldn’t have time to cash in on it.

Sylus sighs. “I know.”

You reach a hand out for his cheek. He meets you halfway, not allowing you to strain yourself. Your soft touch leaves blood behind. His sharp cheeks and pale skin, tainted with your ichor. “You were never mine.”

Your eyes are glossy as you look from your rouge fingerprints to his eyes. Wet with unshed tears. Death is inevitable. You don’t want to meet it sobbing.

You smile. It’s shaky, and it sends a dagger straight through his heart. “But I have you right now… right?”

He holds your hand, pressing it firmly against his cheek. Your fingers are growing cold. Your skin is losing its color. Your cheeks don’t flush for him like they used to. “You have me.”

His other hand holds your cheek, tilting your head down as he leans forward. A kiss, lingering and carrying the weight of your life, presses to your forehead. He pulls away and stares you directly in the eye. He can’t bear to look at your wounds again.

Your body shudders. Your eyes nearly close. His hand on your face shakes you slightly, urging you to stay awake. “You… You don’t have to say it back…” you start. Your breaths are ragged and slow. You wince, but you keep your eyes locked on him. Warm tears fall down your cheeks as you blink away the black spots encroaching on your vision. “I love you… I… I always have…”

He can’t. The words stick to the back of his throat like molasses. Instead, he forces a cocky grin. “Let’s go on a trip,” he says. “Just name the place. We can go anywhere you want.”

You wheeze something that should have been a bright, bubbly laugh. “Really…?”

He nods. “We’ll take my jet. And we’ll see all the sights.”

“Even the… tourist traps…?”

“We’ll see those first.”

You smile. Your energy is waning. The candle of your life burns low, the flame flickering trying to stay above the melted wax. “I like… the sound of… that…”

He leans in close, clinging to every last word. Your hand is only on his cheek because he keeps it there. You don’t have the strength to hold it there yourself. “And we’ll go to every shop that catches your eye. I’ll buy you anything you want.” He corrects himself, “Everything you want.”

You nod faintly. Your lips move, but no sound comes out. He presses his forehead to yours.

“You have me,” he whispers.

You smile. Your eyes flutter shut. He feels your last breath on his face. The smile doesn’t fully fade. The corners of your mouth stubbornly refuse to fall. A cold tear brushes his thumb.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

[themultifanshipper]

carcar smut 🙏🏻🙏🏻

PS- I LOVE your writing 😭

Really, what did Carlos expect?

He crashed into Oscar during a race, and now he was going to fucking suffer.

Warnings: smut, bottom carlos, face fucking, fucking without lube, hate sex, spit, cum (a lot of it), ruined orgasm, slight angst ?, oscar's a dick in this one guys

Oscar couldn't help admire how pretty Carlos was.

How fucking beautiful he was, crying for cock, cheeks stained with tears.

How his long eyelashes framed his doe eyes.

And those lips, they were so soft and tender, especially when they were wrapped around his thick cock whenever Oscar thrusted into the wet heat of his mouth mercilessly.

When Oscar pulled out briefly, Carlos would cry out “I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” as his voice cracked from the abuse.

And Oscar would reply with the nastiest tone, “You're about to be”, and he'd tighten his grip on the Spaniards hair to drive his hips in even harder and deeper until Carlos' throat was raw and used.

There would be a puddle on the floor of drool and precum, the latter coming from Carlos' untouched cock that twitched every time Oscar would slap him across the face for accidentally grazing him with his teeth.

But today? Today Oscar skipped the throat fucking entirely.

He didn't just want to humiliate Carlos, he wanted to ruin him.

He wanted to hear the man scream his name, and for other people to hear how desperate he was for Oscar's cock.

So when Oscar walked into Carlos' drivers room, the older man was naked and waiting patiently, already bruised knees firmly planted on the carpeted floor.

When Oscar got to his level, after leaving the door open just a crack, he slapped the man across the face and hissed angrily.

“Get up!”

Carlos was confused but he complied eagerly, standing up on shaky legs before being roughly turned around and pushed towards the couch.

Oscar manhandled him onto his knees on the cushions and bent him over the back of it, pressing his face into the wall so that he couldn't move.

This was a first. Oscar had never done anything more than make him swallow his cum after a rough race, so Carlos was starting to panic slightly at the vulnerable position he was currently in.

A loud smack echoed around the small room, and Carlos gasped at the pain blooming on his left asscheek.

He had never been seriously spanked before, and the burning sensation was just adding to the excitement of how new this was.

Then Oscar went for the right cheek, even harder than before, and Carlos moaned louder at the pain, cock twitching between his legs.

“You're fucking enjoying this aren't you?” Oscar snarled and trailed a finger along Carlos' cock, across his balls, up his perineum and stopped right on the older man's puckered rim.

“Let's see how much you enjoy me making you scream like a slut on my cock”

Oscar spat straight on his twitching hole, and spread the wetness around with his finger.

Carlos was shaking with need and anticipation, face still pressed into the wall painfully as he was forced to take the two fingers Oscar decided to push into him.

It was slightly too dry, but not unbearable as Oscar gave an experimental thrust.

He deemed it satisfactory and wasted to time hooking his fingers in search of Carlos' prostate.

He knew immediately when he found it.

Carlos' body jolted and he let out a half moan, half scream that would definitely alert anyone who was outside to what was happening.

Oscar didn't relent, he shoved his fingers into that spot repeatedly, and Carlos couldn't breathe with the intensity of the pleasure he was experiencing.

It was his first time feeling anything like this, waves of white hot pleasure rolling over his body every time Oscar prodded at that spot.

Spots danced in his vision as it neared it's peak, and the couch was already ruined with how much precum was leaking from his poor neglected cock.

“I'm- I’m gonna...” Carlos was whining, writhing against the sofa, his body completely surrendering to Oscar.

But just as fast as it was given, the pleasure was ripped away by Oscar as he withdrew his fingers and wiped his hand on the back of Carlos' thigh.

Oscar's plan was to leave then and there, leave Carlos high and dry, leaking and exposed and desperate.

But that plan went to shit when A) he noticed Carlos' previously virgin hole was almost gaping from only two fingers, and B) he heard Carlos' voice cracking as he sobbed out pleas for more.

“I'll do anything, please. Please I need to come so much-“

Drool was running down his chin and the wall where he was pressed against it.

“Oscar, please!” he cried out and Oscar caved.

He was only a man, and there was an eager hole in front of him.

He manhandled Carlos so he was on the couch with his face shoved into the pillows and his ass up in the air.

“Don't get used to this. Next time I won't be so fucking generous”

Carlos whined, his knuckles white from gripping the cushions as he rambled.

“Yes! Yes thank you! Fuck- thank- Ahhh!”

He yelped as Oscar spanked him once, to get him to shut the fuck up.

“Beg for it.” He snapped. “Beg for my cock or you're not getting it”

Carlos huffed out another sob before complying.

“Please Oscar. Give me your cock. I want it so bad. I need you to make me come, please, please, please!”

Oscar held out his hand next to Carlos' face.

“You'd better give me something to work with if you don't want it to hurt too much”

Carlos didn't hesitate as he gathered up as much spit as he could and spat in Oscar's hand.

He slicked himself up and spread Carlos cheeks to let a line of spit drip down and catch on his twitching hole.

He lined himself up and chuckled darkly.

“Any last words before I take your virginity?”

Carlos squirmed.

“Please” he whined pathetically.

“Slut” and with that he thrust inside as hard as he dared without causing any actual damage.

Carlos moaned so loud the whole building probably heard him, given that the door was still slightly open.

When Oscar drove into him a second time, much harder, Carlos let out a slightly more panicked moan.

“I'm coming!” he squealed on the third thrust, choking on a breath and tensing up as the pleasure overwhelmed him, and Oscar was so shocked that he stopped dead, ruining the man's pleasure to observe the tremors travel through Carlos' body.

“Nooo!” Carlos wailed, his ruined orgasm quickly fading as he writhed around trying to fuck himself back on Oscar's cock.

But the hold Oscar had on his hips had tightened so much that it was impossible to move and Carlos cried harder out of frustration.

“Fuck, that was-“ Oscar was out of breath despite not having done much and his brain took a second to reboot and realise what he'd done.

“Fuck, Carlos, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to stop I-”

He pulled out carefully and turned the Spaniard over, unfortunately laying him down on the big puddle of his cum that had undoubtedly ruined the poor couch.

His chest was heaving and his whole body was clenching and unclenching painfully.

Oscar ran his hands soothingly over the older man's body, rubbing over his thighs and up his stomach to his chest, and back down again.

Once Carlos had regained control of his breathing he looked down, frowning, and Oscar followed his line of sight.

Carlos was half hard, and Oscar's hand twitched with the odd urge to wrap his hand around Carlos' cock to get him all the way hard again.

“I- I think I can uhh...” Carlos stuttered and blushed at the sight of Oscar's own cock laying beside it, still hard and leaking onto the other man's hip “I can go again... if you want”

He gulped and Oscar stared, evaluating whether there was a chance that the older man had somehow got a concussion.

“Go again?”

Carlos’ hand tugged at his own cock a couple of times and he tipped his head back, biting his lip and groaning as his cock was touched for the first time since Oscar had walked in the room.

Oscar throbbed at the sight of Carlos so pliable and submissive under him.

“Please Oscar. I need to know how a proper orgasm feels like... like that. I need you to fuck me properly.” He looked straight into Oscar's eyes with an air of defiance.

“Or are you incapable of doing that?”

Electricity crackled as the tension between them rose again and Oscar growled, slapping Carlos' hand away from his cock before grabbing his legs and hooking them over his shoulders, jostling the older man into a folded position.

“Say that again, I dare you” he positioned his tip at Carlos' entrance and popped it in.

“Can you even make me come again or are you too-“

He never got to finish his sentence.

Oscar thrust inside in one go, this time starting a bruising pace as he rolled his hips, reaching as deep as he could and Carlos’ voice gave out as he screamedain pleasure.

Oscar leaned down, lips hovering next to his ear.

“Not so mouthy now that I'm actually fucking you dumb now, are you?” he snarled and picked up the pace, aiming straight at Carlos' prostate again.

The room was filled with Carlos' moans, his back arched almost painfully and he scratched down Oscar's back.

He couldn't have that. If one of them was going to be marked, it sure as hell wasn't going to be him.

He took both Carlos' wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head, then started mouthing over his pecs trailing his lips over the tanned skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He settled around a nipple, sucking harshly and flicking his tongue over it until Carlos was gasping and writhing under him.

He let it go with a pop, doing the same thing to the other one, driving Carlos closer to another orgasm by the second.

When he bit down on the supple flesh, Carlos keened and threw his head back, arching towards the onslaught of Oscar's mouth.

Oscar chuckled and went slightly higher to sink his teeth into the man's shoulder, making Carlos hiss.

When he bit into Carlos' exposed neck and sucked a bruise into it, that's when Carlos started whining.

“Mierda! Fuck! Fuck Oscar.... I'm gonna come! Make me come, harder Oscar! I'm gonna cum again!”

Oscar slammed into him even harder and wrapped a hand around his neglected cock, jerking him off at the same pace.

“Of course you are, because you're an insatiable whore.”

Carlos' body trembled with pleasure as he toppled over the edge and painted his chest and Oscar's hand with streaks of white.

“And I'm going to fill you up with my cum so you’ll remember who makes you fold like a slut in heat every time you fuck up”

His hips stuttered as he came inside Carlos' pulsing heat, not stopping until they were both whining in overstimulation.

He pulled out unceremoniously, wiped his hand on the couch and tucked himself back in his pants before taking in the scene.

Carlos laying in a puddle of his own cum, covered in more of it, and his loose hole was leaking steadily onto the cushions.

A picture of absolute debauchery.

He turned on his heel, ready to leave when he spotted the door...

Not to mention the bite marks adorning his chest and shoulders, and the big bruise on his neck that he knew would be impossible to cover up.

His eyes lingered for only a second on the bruise forming on Carlos' cheekbone where he'd been pressed against the wall.

“Oh and by the way, I left the door open, so your entire team knows how much of a slut you are for my cock”

And with that he left, not even looking back to check that Carlos had heard him, and leaving the door ajar on his way out.

The looks he got from the Ferrari employees were glorious as he made his way out.

Their eyes were full of awe as they realised who had been in Carlos' room. Some were dissaproving, but they were nothing compared to looks Carlos was robably going to get...

He wore those looks like a badge of honour. It didn't matter what happened out on track, which team came out on top, which driver emerged victorious.

The secret was out. Carlos is, was and always will be, his bitch.

[daryltwdixon]

Kinktober #5

Edging

soooo sorry I've been slacking on these! I'm so invested in The Promise of Us I've barely thought about them lolol but hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut, all p*rn no plot :), dirty talk, Daryl is rough (but you love it of course)

“You’re doing so good, baby, you can hang on a little longer,” Daryl’s rough, sex drunk voice growls in your ear. He has you in his lap on the bed, your bare back against his clothed chest. It was utterly unfair at the moment— he’s completely clothed but he had stripped you down when you came into the room, unable to contain himself when he got back from his day of hunting.

His fingers swirl around your entrance, grazing your engorged clit, making you shiver. 

“Please,” you breathe. He hums in your ear, his two digits dipping into your slick entrance. Your back arches as he curls them up, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit. His free hand is kneading your breast and his legs tangle over yours, spreading you open for himself. His boots dig into where your feet curl against him in pleasure, but he holds your legs tight in his, spreading you even further as you squirm under his touch.

The pressure that’s been building over and over in you is right at its peak, ready to release any second, but as Daryl feels you constrict around his fingers, nipples hardening and your back tense against him, he pulls from you, grazing his wet fingers along your thigh, his hand rubbing you softly. His lips are on the column of your throat as you shake with overwhelming stimulation, the loss of your high. Your eyes brim with tears of frustration— from being brought to the edge over and over with no release. Daryl brings his hand up to cup your face and turn you to face him. He kisses your lips sloppily, and you whine into him. All you want is to touch him, for him to give in and flip you over and fill you. You feel so overwhelmed but frustrated at the lack of release that you still squirm now, even when his hands are gently, lovingly, slowly rubbing your thighs. 

As he releases your lips, he drags them across your face, kissing your tears. He would never want to see you cry, not really, but he knows how much you love edging— the feeling of finally getting to come undone after being turned into a blubbering mess, building and building with no release until he tells you to. He loved seeing just how far he could push you, knowing how much you loved it, even if you got flustered and frustrated in the moment. The way you would quiver under his smallest touches, even the brush of his lips on your neck could make you come undone when his fingers were inside you. 

His rough calloused hands travel over both of your thighs as you gasp in air, your chest rising and falling as you try to gather your breath back. He never knew he could make a woman feel so utterly blissful, never knew anyone would want him like this. To continue to be allowed to have his hands on you everyday, and that you would crave him just as much as he did you. Every time you let him see you like this, all he could think was how much you looked like an angel. A sweaty, flushed, beautiful angel. But the thing was, he was putty in your hands too, even when you weren’t even touching him. 

But it seems like after the first five times of bringing you to the edge, you’ve had enough. Once you get your breath back, you turn over, and he lets you squirm out of his hold. You bring his face between your hands as you come up to your knees on the bed in front of him, and kiss him hard. Your fingers find his hair, and you tug gently on the strands that catch, and the whine that escapes his mouth makes you nearly crumble into him. What you thought was already a gushing wet center has turned into a puddle beneath you, needing to hear him make more noises. Your hands quickly fumble with the buttons of the front of his flannel, throwing it over his shoulders in a haste.

“So desperate for me, hmmm?” He gravels as he pulls his sleeves off, throwing his shirt to the side. His hands find your waist, eager to feel your skin against his. Your skin heats even more at the feeling of his muscled arms snaking around you, bringing you in close.

“Get these off for me, will ya?” He asks gently, leaning back and looking at the zipper of his pants. You lean back, just enough where he can still hang onto you and reach down, undoing his buckle, the button, and zipper as quickly as your trembling, needy hands could. You were in a hazy state of need, ravenous for what waited for you beneath them. Salivating at the mouth, you bring your warm hand down into his pants, pulling gently at the hardening cock, letting it spring out from its confines. You tease and play as you try to pull down the pants completely, but when you try to pull away from his touch, his fingers dig into your sides. 

“Mm mm,” he hums his objection, “tha’s good enough–need ya,” he whispers, craning his neck back against the headboard, reaching up to your face with his lips. The smile that spreads across your face must be teasing, because his eyes darken as he grabs the back of your head with one hand, pulling you in fast before you can get away from him. As he hungrily kisses you, his tongue pushing and pulling and dancing with yours, his other hand pulls you up just a hair, and you reach down to align yourself with him. Just the feeling of his tip sliding over your center is enough for you to moan, throwing your head back. He groans in response, but he smiles to himself as he watches you become a mess above him, and before you can waste any time with more teasing, he pulls you down fast and hard onto him. Your head comes up with a scream, but turns quickly into a moan as you feel him stretching you–splitting you in half the way he fills you up so perfectly.

“God, baby,” he growls, “‘s like your pussy was made for me,”

You begin rocking your hips, unable to take any more waiting, but he has other plans. Suddenly you’re being pushed onto your back on the bed, and he’s on top of you, all the while keeping inside of you, filling your walls so snugly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him in even deeper. He growls into your neck, almost a purr, both arms wrapping under and around you tight as he pulls you into him. His hips begin snapping hard and fast, and you can tell he’s losing control of himself, not caring to be soft or gentle. You didn’t want him to be. You’re moaning so loud you are almost certain your neighbors will be avoiding eye contact for a few days. The mewling coming from you is only driving him crazier as Daryl keeps thrusting himself into you.

“Daryl, ss–it’s too much,” you stutter, barely able to gasp in a breath, your hands finding his hair. You’re so overstimulated by his quick thrusts, the way his pelvis rubs against your clit every time, the smacking of his balls against you and the way he’s holding you so so tight against him, “Mmm gonna–c–cum if you don’---don’t stop,” you manage to moan out.

He slows his hips and releases you slightly around your body, his one hand coming to cage you in the side of your head as he looks down at you, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. You bring one hand around to push his bangs away from his face so you can look into the sex drunk blue eyes that look down at you. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Daryl did. Like you were a gift from God himself. His other free hand comes down between you, and your eyes go wide, shaking your head. Your hand in his hair grips the nape of his neck, and the other hand is pushing against his chest in objection. Oh god, oh god. It was too much, way too much. You couldn’t take it anymore, you were going to lose your mind if he didn’t let you cum in that moment. His thrusts slow to an agonizing pace, his thumb gently pressing down on your clit. The smile that flits across his face is almost teasing, but then he leans down, taking your lips in his, so tender and gentle, a stark contrast to his roughness moments before. He pulls back just an inch, so that when he speaks, you can feel his hot breath and lips moving around the words.

“Cum for me,” he growls, and suddenly his hips are smacking into you, his cock burying himself into you so deep it's all you can do to not scream his name as he continues, but he leans into you further, as he notices you holding back. His hand comes to your jaw as he puts his body weight on you, grabbing your face, “Nah-uh, baby, I wanna hear you. Your pussy already tells me ‘nough, the way it sucks me dry, pullin’ me into you so fuckin’ perfect–tell me, tell me how good you feel, angel,”

And then you really scream his name as you seize under him in pleasure.

[jyoongim]

OKAY I DID THE GAME AND GOT PROMPT 4 SO IM REQUESTING AN ALASTOR X READER WITH 50 AND 58 PLEASEE 🔵

(also I did the game with my gf and showed her all the stuff I'm into 👀)

Prompt 4, #50 & 58: smut no plot “behave, I wouldn’t want to have to punish you now w/ act like a brat, Ill treat you like a brat”

Alastor x brat!reader

The lounge was buzzing with people.

You were nursing a drink, looking at all the people dancing.

You wanted to dance.

”c’mon Al lets hit the dance floor” you chirped. The red demon shook his head and went back to talking with Mimzy.

You pouted.

You had got all dolled up and he wasn’t even paying any attention to you.

So you took matters into your own hands.

You slipped from your seat and headed to the dance floor, spotting an attractive demon who would love to feed your ego for the night.

You flashed him a flirty smile as you began to dance, encouraging the man to approach you.

He took the bait.

A warm body slithered behind you, hands grasping your hips.

You happily accepted his advances, keeping your smirk hidden when you saw Alastor turn and meet your eyes.

He beckoned you back and you threw your hair over your shoulder, giving your dance partner your attention.

You rubbed yourself the demon, letting his hands roam as you danced to the music.

Warm breath grazed your neck ”why dont we get out of here huh?”

You giggled and before you could utter a response you felt a familiar shadow wrap around your leg, tugging.

A warning.

Behave dearest

You ignored it, shooing the shadow away. You didn’t have to listen to him. You were out to have fun and if Alastor wasn’t going to pay attention to you, then another would do just fine.

”Buy me a drink at least” you purred and the demon happily wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the bar.

Alastor was staring into the side of your face as you flirted with the demon.

The demon excused himself to the restroom and Alastor gripped your arm, lips at your ear “I suggest you stop this behavior darling, wouldn’t want to ruin our night” his voice was void of the radio filter.

You huffed, glaring at him “I am having fun! Something you seem to want no part in”

His claws tightened around you, pulling you into his lap “now now dont go acting like a brat, you dont want to be punished do you?”

You swatted him away when your date came back.

You ignored his warning and turned your attention back to the male.

Alastor had had enough of your antics and bid Mimzy a goodbye, as he plucked you away from your date.

You resisted, pouting and huffing as he dragged you out of the lounge.

”Al! Let go! i was just having a bit of fun. There was no harm-”

He pushed you into a dark alley, your back hitting a brick wall.

You grunted as he pushed you to your knees, shadows restraining you.

He leaned down, fingers gripping your chin, sneering 

“You want to act like a brat, then Ill treat you like a brat”

You went to make a smirk remark when a tentacle slithered against your pulsing cunt. “!” You bit your lip.

”You’re not to cum until I see that pretty face smeared in tears and even then I wont stop until you soil the ground”

You jerked against the feeling of the appendage toying with your slit, slipping into your panties and playing with your clit.

You whined as it dipped into your cunt, curling and  wiggling around your gummy walls.

In the quiet alleyway, the sounds of your wetness echoed as you tried to hold your orgasm back.

Your face was buried in Alastor’s pant leg as you panted and push your hips back against the squirming tentacle.

Your thighs were sticky with your slick and a small puddle had formed underneath you.

”A-Al please…I-I fuuuck” you whimpered, tears running down your face, smearing your mascara as your cunt tightened.

Alastor hummed, running a hand through your hair 

“Brats dont get to cum darling”

[mandy-asimp]

Safe and sound

Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: uhh some violence against Ian Doyle not too much tho, Emily's a bit delulu but aren't we all

Summary: emily begins to see your face around more, but it's impossible. You were dead. But when Ian Doyle is rumored to escape, you couldn't stay dead forever.

A/n: sum slight, sum sweet, sum short😋

She was walking to the steps of her apartment when she first saw you. She at first thought it was the sleep deprivation catching up. You couldn't be here...you...you weren't there. She told her self that as she walked up the stairs to her apartment.

Unlocking the door and feeling uneasy. That couldn't be right. She hasn't thought of you in awhile...she avoided you in her memory. You were apart of a time she...she can't let the team find out about you.

How did you find her? The question ran in her head as she sat at her table. Head in hands as she just tried to wrap her head around it.

Sergio jumped into her lap. He was wet. "Were you out in the rain, buddy?" She pet his back, but then it dawned on her. She didn't check the house.

She moved carefully, trying not to alarm the intruder if there was one. Checking each room carefully before heading into her bedroom. Finding the window open and a little puddle.

Shaking her head she just scoffed. "You're crazy, Emily. She's not here...it's impossible." She took a few deep breaths.

But before she left the room she put her perfume on the lock, just in case. She followed her night routine still on edge. Eventually finishing and trying to catch some sleep.

~

A thud woke her from her sleep, if you could even call it sleep. She looked quickly to the window and finding it to be the closed still. But she was up...she might as well check the house once more.

"Serg?...Buddy you making a mess?" She called out. Hoping it was just the cat. Yet, he was asleep in his bed. Completely unbothered. Did she hear a thud? He would've woken up, right?

Emily ran her hands over her face, trudging back into her room. She didn't bother checking anything as she climbed back into the sheets. Closing her eyes and once again trying for sleep.

~

Her eyes slowly peeled open. The way she was laying had her facing her bathroom. And her body froze in terror. There you were. Standing. Looking at your reflection so casually.

Your head snapped over to her but it wasn't you. Your eyes were glowing red and you had this look of disappointment plastered on.

Emily shot up, sweat dripping off her body. Her head instantly shot to look into the bathroom. There was nobody.

Why? Why were you suddenly plaguing her thoughts? She was so sure it was over...you were lost in the case. One minute you were next to her, and then the literal next minute...tears were streaming down her face now.

Through tears she checked the time, she was already running late. So quickly, she pushed the day so far back into her memory and wiped her tears. Quickly working to get decent for work and dashing out the door.

~

It's been three days since she saw you...or maybe saw you. Her mind was all sorts of foggy and it was playing into her job now.

They were on a case somewhere. Derek and her were talking to a lady about some cab driver. They had just finished and watched her walk away.

Her blood ran cold as she glanced to where she could feel eyes on her. You stood on the corner, ready to cross, but you weren't looking at her. A car flashed by and suddenly you were gone. She couldn't think anymore.

"Prentiss?" Derek waved his hand in front of her. His eyes moved to match where she was looking, seeing nothing there. "Are you ok?"

She hummed and came back. "Huh? Yeah...sorry I just haven't been sleeping very well. I feel like I'm seeing things suddenly." She tried to joke around it, but Derek was a good friend.

He knew it was more but he wasn't going to push while on a case. Maybe back at the BAU where Garcia can also help figure it out. But until then, they had a case.

"Well, let's get this case over with and then you can take as much princess sleep as a possible." He lightly joked. Gaining a small smile from the woman.

~

She was back at the door to her apartment. There was this green box outside. Neatly wrapped. She knew that wrapping all too well. It made her stomach twist in ways she hasn't ever felt.

Her breathing picked up a little bit. Then her phone rang, she was quick to answer it. "Hey Emily!" Reid's voice came through.

He went on about a movie, but Emily was too busy clearing her house. Having to turn down his offer as she grabbed her files. Saying her goodbyes as she got back up, catching a glimpse of the mirror.

She met your eyes and immediately adjusted her hold on her gun. "What do you want?" She whispered.

"What?" Reid's voice was mere background noise.

Emily turned around and just saw the box from her door. "You don't scare me..." she called into her house. Her phone got thrown to her bed. "You're above this!"

She turned around the corner in hope to catch you. But then it dawned on her again, you can't be here. It's impossible. The paranoia is eating her alive.

Emily came back into her room, seeing her phone still on a call with Reid. "Shit.." she whispered as she picked up the phone. "Reid?"

"Sugar?!" Penelope's voice came loudly. "Are you ok?!"

"Emily?" Reid came in, Hotch close behind him.

Emily let a sigh out, "I'm fine...I'm just really tired. Sorry for worrying you guys." She was quick to hang up her phone. Giving them no space to continue to question.

She let her head fall back and groaned. Laughing at herself once again as she got ready to leave for the night.

The wrapping threw her off still. She wasn't going to let it be the reason something does happen. She knew how you wrapped your gifts. You gave her so many. You even explained why you wrapped how you did.

"It one, looks way cuter and is easy to unwrap. And two, it gives more precision to be precise and make sure it's perfect for the receiver. Come, I'll teach you and you can use it to become the second best gift wrapper. After me of course."

Your smile was huge that day. The two of you spent the day watching movies as you wrapped up your Christmas gifts for her.

~

The next morning, she walked into the bullpen. Confused as everyone was watching Hotch's office.

"What's going on?" Emily frowned. Coming up to everyone.

A few shrugged, but before anyone could answer Hotch came out. "Prentiss can I speak with you?"

She gave a nod and dropped off all her stuff. Walking into his office and seeing him and a file. "Sir?"

"This was left on my desk this morning. I was wondering if it meant anything to you?" He handed over the file.

She opened it and it was practically blank. The only thing in the middle of the paper was a picture of her and half another person who was kissing her cheek.

She tried not to freeze infront of her boss but it was too much for her to not. "Emily, do I need to be worried about your safety?" He leaned forward. "I can have cops outside your apartment if needed."

She shook her head. "Can I...can I keep this?" Her voice was shaky. Hotch had only seen her like this once before. With her friend awhile back.

"Are you going to make any irrational decisions if I say yes? The team can help you if you-" he stopped when she shook her head again. "Is everything all right?"

She took a big inhale, letting it go slowly and nodding. "I'll be ok...can I...um have the day though?" She asked.

It was easily granted to her as she recollected her stuff and left without much to say.

She wasn't going crazy...you were actually alive. But that would make sense on how you've been disappearing within seconds?

She tried to make it work, thinking all the possibilities that could explain something. Her thoughts carried her into her apartment.

It wasn't worth checking anything, if you were already getting in and out then...why can't you just come see her?

Why is it secrets?

An unwanted game of cat and mouse?

What is keeping you from her?

You know why, Em...you know why. Your voice rang in her head. She could hear how soft it still was. How much emotion you could hold within your words even just the word 'the'. You were her second half. The one who she could crumble against and it'd be ok. But she lost you. She might not get you back.

She flopped into the middle of her bed and cried. She was finally mourning you. In her own ball curled up. Staring blankly at the wall.

And on one blink, you were there. She could see you standing there. Head tilted just slightly to the left and smiling sadly at her.

"Are you even real..."she mumbled. Emily was tired of seeing you everywhere and it not being you.

So when you moved closer and placed your warm hand on her cheek she gasped. It didn't even take a second before she was latching onto you and crying heavily.

You held her back in silence. Just letting her get everything out. You didn't mind it though. It felt natural.

It felt like the first time you held her. And she could feel it too. That both hearts were full again, designed to be one with each other.

"But you're..."she sobbed into you. Clutching you tighter as she began to struggle to breath.

"Hey, hey...just follow mine." You led the deep breathing. "There you go hun, steady breathing ok?"

She pulled back from you and really took in your face. Holding your face and crashing her lips to yours. It made you laugh a little as you kissed back. It was well overdue.

"I thought you died?" She dragged you to the bed, neither of you thinking as you laid down and let her lay on top of you. Your hand finding its home in her hair as you detangled it.

You hummed softly, "it was my only way to protect you. Sometimes, we have to make choices for the better even if it means the worse for ourselves. Doyle...he..."

The name made her tense slightly under your touch, "what about him?..."

"He...he had bad plans and I found out about them. I told Sean and he pulled me out instantly. They killed me off and reassigned me....I watched you from afar recently because...he's escaped. He's been watching you and your team. And if I knew any better...we're the final two. I wanted to see you one more time." You explained to her. Hating that this is what was happening to you both.

She held you even tighter now. "How's everyone else?" She was scared to ask. More scared for the answer as you took a deep breath in.

"They don't know I'm alive, but they know Ian is out." You answered quietly. There was more to why you showed up and you knew she was avoiding asking you anyways.

She was silent as she laid with you. But in her own mind, she was a wreck. She didn't want to really think about why you were here. She already knew.

"Will you keep me safe...for just tonight?" She almost sounded afraid. "Even if you're not here when I wake up...just one more night?"

The moonlight made her eyes sparkle in a way you would be a monster if you said no. So you did all you could, you pulled her so incredibly closed and held her till she fell asleep.

However, you were wide awake. You knew you next move. You were sworn to protect Emily Prentiss ever since you met Ian Doyle. He was a man of secrets and you pulled apart each one just for her.

You both were at risk here, but you just wouldn't let the risk go far for her. That's why it pained you to leave her before her alarm went off. You placed a delicate kiss to her hairline before climbing out the window.

You didn't leave her with nothing though, that morning when she woke up she saw the small box on her nightstand. It had your signature bow o top and a small note next to it. Till we meet again, i promise.

~

It had been awhile. Rumors are Ian Doyle was dead, but nobody could confirm it. Nobody but you.

You had caught him when you least wanted to. When it was right there with Emily. Sitting across from her and threatening her team.

"I'm going to take the only thing you care about...your life."

That was the only thing that man had to say for him to become your only focus. You had followed him for days. Left him clues you were lurking. You knew your presence made him a bit uneasy. That's what you did best after all.

You noticed how his actions towards Emily moved slower than planned. He was trying to lure you out with her, but it didn't work as well.

You were in this man's home. That was his only warning you gave. After that everything was fair game. Especially once you heard he was continuing his plans. It made your blood boil and you felt no mercy.

So, you followed Ian on a motorcycle, it was easy and fast, just your style. He walked into a pub with a few guys, but that never stopped you.

You got a table to keep them in sight while you out of theirs. And when he got up and went to the bathroom, that was your opening. With a silent fire, you made him defenseless. You took your time in there with him. Making sure he felt the years of pain he caused. Then you left him there for someone else to find.

Leaving the state, the country, anything to distance yourself then. You left for a few years. Five in total (there was a lot to clear up before you could). Finally though, you'd get to be with her.

You wanted it to be a surprise so you figured, what better surprise then at work? You had gotten in as early as possible. Slipping a little note and little box on her desk before leaving unnoticed.

And by eight in the morning, you had received a text saying it can't be true. It made you smile as you texted her back that you promised her to come back.

As she read it she fiddled with the ring on her finger, bringing Penelope and JJ's attention to it. They were having lunch in Emily's office.

"Woah! When did you get that?" The blondes instantly grabbed for her hand. Inspecting the dark red gem. "They must really like you..." JJ joked.

Earning laughs in return, "I got it awhile ago...from an old friend." There was a distant tone in each word.

Neither blonde believing it was just a friend. They shared a look and rushed off. Hiding in Garcia's bat cave until the end of the day.

Emily was going to find it weird, but she didn't want to ruin her mood. She was excited for your next appearance.

What she didn't expect was it to be at the bureau. When you waltzed in with a 'delivery'. You made a beeline for her desk with a goofy smile as she tried to not laugh at your getup.

"Are you Emily Prentiss?" You tried to contain your smile, failing miserably as tears sprung to her eyes.

She didn't care anymore she just hugged you tightly. She had you again and it felt right finally. Nothing was getting her as long as you were there.

The room stared at you two. Who were you that Emily was crying the way she was? They could only see your lips move but couldn't hear anything.

"I know sweet girl..." you hummed. Holding her head in place as she cried heavily. "Just follow mine." And you led the breathing once again. Calming her down to get her to look at you. "Well look at you FBI section chief Prentiss." You eyed her playfully. Getting a strong wack to your arm. She aged beautifully.

"You don't get to joke after what you did." She frowned seriously now. "You've risked yourself too far." She was silent for a second, knowing she wanted to know. "What did you to him? Is he really dead?"

"The night he was in a pub... He went to the bathroom and I was gone before his guys could even think of the possibility. He didn't deserve mercy." You kept it short. There wasn't much to tell anyways, you moved quick in your line of work.

"So are you.." she let her question trail off, but you knew what she was asking.

"In a sense, yes. There is no real harm against me or you. Therefore I have no reason to stay moving." You bobbed your head, letting Emily's smile infect you.

She fisted your shirt and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly but fiercely. And when she pulled away she looked at you with a hopeful shimmer. "Move in with me then. Stay with me this time."

You easily agreed to her, not needing to even think twice about it. And that's when you both heard a throat clear.

Penelope was behind on everything as she watched the end of you and Emily's moment. "I want a name, now." She demanded from her spot in the couch.

The two of you laughed at her tone, but you stepped slightly back for Emily to take the lead. It was her choice if the team got to know more about you or not.

"This is Y/n." Was all she said, but that's all you needed to know there was still so much for you two to talk about first. "I'm gonna take a second lunch," she smiled at her colleagues before collecting her stuff.

There were many unanswered questions as you left hand in hand with Emily. Penelope and JJ began to share many possibilities on what could be happening. But they would all have to wait till they finally did get their answers.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Hii i love ur work i was wondering if u could do an angst story when ur the fem 9th member and jyp adds another fem member and they start ignoring you yelling at u and acting harsh and only one member is by ur side all the time

Replaceable

-9th skz

Warning: yelling, panic attacks, harsh tones, angst

Pairing: I.N x 9th member

Summary: a new member joins your group and it seems everything starts crashing down when you realize your being slowly replaced.

!not proofread!

Hey thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy this short story lol! Have a good day 🩷

**

"Chan? I don't know where you are but I've been outside. Waiting. You promised to pick me up remember? Just text me or call me when you get this." I send the voicemail and let out a frustrated sigh. Had he forgotten to pick you up again? This was starting to become really annoying.

The last time he forgot because apparently the new girl, Haneul, needed help recoding something for the album. I let it go because it was the album after all and I want what's best for the team. But this time I had no idea why he wasn't texting or picking up.

The sky starts to drizzle and I let out a sigh. Slowly starting the walk home. I knew I was going to be soaking wet when I arrive at the dorms so I just put my phone in my bag to avoid it from getting spoilt.

The past few weeks, the schedule was really busy especially now that their was a 10th member. Everyone was trying to make her feel like home even offering her MY room as I took the couch until we were transferred to our new dorm. It was frustrating because now everyone's attention was on her and the fact that the boys were excited for a girl joining got me thinking that maybe they were tired of me.

The rain was pouring heavy now and my tears were too. Last week Han forgot to practice with you because he was with Haneul teaching her the rap part for the new song. Last week Felix forgot that you were making brownies with him and decided to do it with Haneul instead. Last week Changbin double booked his schedule with the recording studio and told me to come at a later date because Haneul needed more attention. LAST week Leeknow took her to the new game park when he had promised me to go with.

Haneul was slowly getting me replaced. The less I talked the more nobody would notice me.

My phone vibrates and I quickly pull out my phone.

"H-hello?" I say into it while snifling.

"Y/nie? Love? Are you there? What's all that noise?" I hear I.N's voice booming through the phone obviously panicking.

"I'm walking home." I sadly say looking at the puddles that had completely got my shoes wet.

"But it's raining dogs and cats outside! Yah! You're going to get sick."

"Chan forgot to pick me up again but it's okay I'm like 2 minutes away from the house."

"Oh baby. Let me make you some hot chocolate and run you a bath."

"You don't have to babe-"

"No I will! Now hurry along please. I want you home safe."

I say a little bye before rushing to get home.

My shoes let out squishy sounds against the hard wood floor as I make my way through the house.

"Where's Chan?" I glare at Changbin who's walking to the kitchen.

He stops and his eyes go wide when he finally sees me. "Oh my God. What happened babydoll?" He gasps at the state I'm in.

"Where. Is. Chan?" I ask one more time. Angry wasn’t even the word that could explain the emotion I felt at the moment.

"His in the studio-"

I walk past him and charge at the studio where I open the door to find him with Haneul laughing at something.

Was he being Foreal right now?

"Chan how could you?!" I say hurt at him causing him to jump and look up at me.

"Y/n? Oh my God what happened to you? Why are you soaking wet-"

"You fucking forgot to pick me up from schedules Where were you huh? Huh?" I frown and glare at him.

He looks panicked as he picks up his phone to check his reminders but his eyes open wide in realization.

"Oh my God- y/nie I'm so sorry. Haneul-"

“It’s okay,” I say not even bothering to fight with him. It wasn’t worth it. It was tiring.

"What’s going on guys?" Leeknow says coming into the room confused.

“Yah! Y/n your getting the whole house wet with your clothes? What’s your problem?” He scolds me.

“I had to walk through the rain and you don’t even care, no need to yell at me.”

The boys all start piling up into the room trying to figure out what the matter was.

"Y/n! Your wet!" Han exclaims

“Yes I think I get the point people!” I groan and shiver as the cold air hits my body.

“Y/n go get change please, now I have to clean up your mess,” Leeknow’s tone is harsh. I can hear it with a tint of frustration.

“Jeez Leeknow you won’t even bother to ask if I’m okay?” I roll my eyes trying to avoid the tears that threatened to fall down my cheeks once again.

He just dismisses me with his hand and walks out the room to do whatever he had too.

“Anyways, Haneul do you still wanna watch riverdale later?” My neck snaps at the direction that Hyunjin stood. Did he just say riverdale?

“Yeah yeah, I hope it’s not too much work but I was wondering if we could also make those little friendship bracelets-“

“Hyunjin did you just say riverdale? That’s our show,” my voice is now soft and quivering. Why would he watch our show with her.

“Y/n don’t be selfish, she’s just watching season one. It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all.

“We can alwyaks watch another series Hyunjin I don’t mind really-“

“Nah Y/n will be okay she’s just being dramatic like always,”

My breathing started to pick up. I couldn’t hold in the tears anymore. I was cold, tired, hungry and emotional. The sob that left my lips represented all that.

Chan’s eyes go wide when he notices the distress I’m in. “Hey, why are you crying? Are you okay?”

I don’t even bother to answer and just walk past the boys that stood by the door looking confused and worried.

“What’s the matter Y/n? Is it because of riverdale? Please don’t tell me you’re crying over that!” Hyunjin says as his hand grabs mine.

“You guys treat me like such a bother ever since she got here. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. I’m I boring to you guys now? All of you have been mean or pushing me aside for her. I don’t even ask for much but to have my friends back. If you don’t want me in the group anymore just tell me.”

I’m a mess, I’m a mess. I free myself from his grip before walking up the stairs where I run into I.N. He gives me a smile and realizes the state I’m in. His smile drops.

“Hey- woah woah woah, what’s wrong?” He asks but he was the only one that knew the current position I was in. I had told him the day he saw Chan snap at me when we were learning a new choreography and I had messed up.

“I’m- I’m just tired.” I cry as he automatically pulls me into his arms.

“Don’t cry hmmm. It’s okay I’ve got you okay? Let’s go upstairs and get you showered and changed. Then we can talk about it okay?” He whispers in my ear and I just nod in response.

He pulls me up the stairs and into my room where I find my pajamas laid out and some candles lit. The bathroom was running.

He slowly undresses me and guides me into the bathroom where I sit in the hot bathtub.

“Join me?” I ask well basically whimper. Craving his touch.

He chuckles. “Yeah sure my love. You miss me hm?”

“Yeah,” I softly say before blushing.

He gets undressed and gets into the tab. He leans back as I sit in between his legs. My body slowly meting into his.

He leaves tiny kisses on my naked shoulders while slowly massaging my neck. I find my body relaxing and slowly shutting down.

“Hey do you wanna talk about it now?”

“Mmm, it’s just that Everbody’s been acting so different towards me eve since she joined, I told you this last time but now it’s worse. Sometimes they don’t even acknowledge my existence.” I sigh feeling the sadness start to rise again.

“Baby, I told you last time to talk to them about it. What happened?”

“I don’t know I geuss, I geuss I just don’t want to make them feel like they’re picking.”

“But it’s your feelings that matter

**

LMAO THIS IS LIKE ONE OF THE FIRST STORIES I TRIED TO DO, SHOULD I DROP IT?😭

[pedge-page]

I'm new to ur page idk if this is done but I...I want Joel to piss inside a plushie....

Puddles - a Plushies x PK drabble

Notes: I've been waiting to write this one so here we go! Can read more plushies!Joel through Plushies Series masterlist, though they can all be read as standalone fics

Warnings: Pisskink!Joel, piss kink, Drunk!Joel, solo masturbation with a stuffed animal, yes he is pissing inside poor plushie, plushie fucking briefly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He may have gone a little bit overboard when Tommy invited him for the crew’s so-called ‘happy hour get together’. He knew they all liked to go out and celebrate with a few drinks after completing a project, and this last one they just wrapped up for some posh client with outrageous requests was no different. 

Joel usually liked to skip out on them. First, because he didn’t want to know what these clowns might be up to when they get tipsy, letting whatever sober-less things go on follow his mind to the next job site. But also because he’s getting too old for that college level shit. Hangovers aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing well past middle age. 

But, he didn’t want to be home alone since you were going to be working late.

So, two beers turned into twelve and a few more various alcohol spiked beverages here and there, and boom. Joel’s swaying side to side along the sidewalk with Tommy guiding him all the way up the front door.

“You sure you don’t need me, brother?” Tommy asks hesitantly. 

Joel, with lolling eyes and a grin, confidently waves him off after successfully entering his key into the door after 6 tries.

He stumbles through into the dark alone, and the first thing that hit him is how badly he wants to curl up on your plushie filled bed. He thought about you all night; your shampoo filling his nose when you cuddle him, the smooth streak of your naked back when you finish a shower, the wet indulgence of your pussy when he eats you out.

He’s never going to admit it, but the man is clingy as shit when you’re around. And he’s craving some much needed plushie pussy time.

Shit, the alcohol is really swimming in his brain. 

And, he realizes, with a firm and shiver-some squeeze to his crotch, elsewhere in his body. 

Ironically, the bathroom is not what beckons him.

With a devious smirk, he instead tumbles into the bedroom. Through the moonlit drapes, a wave of beady eyed babies stare back at him.

“Hello freaks,” he chuckles. They probably miss you too. Honestly it’s really rude, if you think about it, the way you abandon your buddies here AND Joel all in one night? Atrocious behavior. Someone ought to teach you better.

“Daddy’s home."

He falls forward, his knees catching the edge of the bed. An array of colorful volunteers practically jumping up and down at his presence to be engulfed by the precious aroma of Joel Miller.

That’s how drunk-Joel is seeing it. In reality, if they could run for their fluffy lives, they would. 

A quick hand snatches one yellow blob by its neck. His eyes struggle to get a clear picture—whether from the alcoholic haze or the darkness obscuring his vision. Possibly both. The dark bill and flappy arms come into focus.

“Duck,” he muses to himself. “Bet ya name is Duckie, some shit like that. She ain't good with the namein.” He rolls the unfortunate one over to its back, inspecting its caliber. Its definitely older: matted fur smushed down in certain areas, lack of vibrant coloring, some faded and torn edged fabric on its bow tie. Bitty holes sewn up here and there with mismatched (and poorly seemed) threaded needle. Your college waitressing job used to be for a place called the Quavern, so this little guy’s gotta be your graduation farewell from that team.

“Well mister Quakers. You n' me gonna get to know each other real well right now. Got something I need ya to hold f’me,” Joel slurs. One hand frees the button of his jeans while the other begins to prod at a loose tear in poor DuckDuck’s underside. He pokes and prods and scissors a little too harshly with his sausage fingers before a tell-tale rip echoes in the room. “Oops,” he chuckles with very little guilt as he forces the hole a bit wider and palms his crotch a bit harder. 

Yeah, he gets hard when touching your stuffed animals. He can’t help it! With all the naughty activities you do with them, they’re practically hug buddies by day, sex toy by night. His mind feels foggy, but the building sensation along his lower stomach is the only thing churning his actions. With a few lazy pumps, Joel slots his mushroom tip at the cottony hole he’s made in the poor plush. He pushes through, groaning with his head tossed slightly back as dry softness envelops his pulsing length. 

“Shit—that’s it. Take it little guy.” He bites his lips and peers below, watching his dick penetrate the stuffed animal.

He knows he should put it down, sew it up, put it back, and go do his business in the bathroom like a good, well trained boyfriend. But then again, he knows how fucking pissed you’ll be if he defiles your plushies again. Then you’ll never leave him unattended at home, and that means more pussy drinking and rubbing on these fuckers for him.

Joel doesn���t even realize he’s pissing inside the poor animal until it starts to sag heavily with the weight and wetness coating his hand. “Ooohhhhhhhhhh,” he gasps with furrowed brows. As his bladder empties, the duck grows damper and darker, the fur and cotton soaking it up from the inside out until it’s dripping down his ballsack.  He thrusts inside a few times, the warm wet sensation making him choke out a curse. It’s not quite like your pussy, but the heat is better than nothing. He pushes it flush against his pubic bone, another rush of liquid hissing through and muffled by Mr Quack’s soft innards.

If he wasn’t so fucking wasted right now, he’d fuck it into oblivion. give it the good ol'Miller beating. Fertilize its eggs, if you will. But with his bathroom situation now relieved, Joel yanks the thing off and chucks it to the ground. His brain collapses just as he falls towards the bed, drowning in his own much needed slumber.

-

you shake your head and laugh, hands on your hips at the sight in front of you.

Joel’s out cold face forward in your bed. His jeans are loosely wrapped around his hips and his old tee still on, so if it wasn’t for his loud snoring, you’d assume the man was dead. He hadn’t even made it fully on the bed, his tip toes still holding him up on the floor and legs dangling at an angle.

A few of your stuffed animals had managed to crawl out from underneath him, scattered around when he most likely dropped onto the bed. You pick them up one by one: dusty Carly the Crow, the now famed Mr Oinkers (with battery pack turned OFF), Whiskers the Cat, and poor old Puddles the Duc—

Your disgusted screech has Joel sitting up so fast he nearly capsizes off the bed. The confused, hungover lump is met with his bewildered and screaming girlfriend who’s yanking him by the neck and wringing him viciously with as much might as you can muster.

“STOP—FUCKING—PISSING—IN—MY—PLUSHIES!” You roar with wild eyes and gritted teeth, choking him within an inch of his life. You shake his neck up and down like you’re going to hammer his head into the bed post. 

It takes him a moment, with wide eyes and hands wrapped around your wrists, before his gaze lands on the poorly discarded evidence of last night: a very overly yellow duck soaking into the floor boards in a puddle of liquid gold.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[k9divine]

over the phone ⋮ jill valentine x fem!reader

content : phone sex, degradation, squirting, multiple orgasms, needy!sub!jill, dom!reader

an : this is a filler for now :3

"Keep talking."

this was a rare occurrence.

Jill's hand between her thighs, fingers rubbing frantically at her clit under her panties, bottom lip bitten back to will away the noises that wanted to come out of her throat so bad. She thinks you can't hear her, which, is stupid. You obviously can. She tries to mask it with hums. The occasional 'mhmm' and 'uh huh' buzzing through the shitty speaker of her flip phone.

A burner she has to use when she goes on missions.

"Baby?" purrs your sultry tone, fine brow quirked behind the barrier of your screen--you know, if she saw that expression on your face--she'd crumble instantly. Maybe you'll test that out when she gets back.

Your voice snaps her out of whatever daze she was in; breath stilling, fingers pausing between her legs. Shit. She's been caught.

"Uh- yes? I'm listening." she rushes out, rolling onto her back in search of a new angle. She never really liked masturbating on her side. Ever.

"You know I can hear what you're doing, right?"

Oh, God. You're laughing. At her. You're laughing at her- and, even though she hates to admit it, it's turning her on. More so than she already is.

"I- Gosh, I'm so sorry, I can't- I just-" "Relax."

You find it amusing how needy she can be sometimes, especially when she's far away from you. Like now, she's across the goddamn country. In her bed, fingering her pussy to the sound of your voice. So fucking pathetic.

"I'm not mad. Never was.. just keep going, m'kay?" you're making her skeptical, but, she obliges happily. Making quick work of her underwear, tossing them onto the floor, exposing herself to the chilly night air. Her thumb swirls around her clit, red and puffy from endless hours of neglect. It throbs under her touch, hips bucking into her palm as you begin talking her through it; not passing out the chance to throw some names at her. Your whore. Needy bitch.

After all, will you ever get a chance like this again?

"I miss you so much-"

Her whining cuts through whatever else you were just about to say, the hot sounds of her wet cunt echoing in your bedroom. You had her on speaker. Fuck.

"Aw, you miss me? Hm? Is that why you're fucking that greedy little pussy of yours right now?"

That, has her cumming.

Fingers curl into her g-spot, straight up abusing it as squirt gushes out of her clenching hole, toes digging into the sheets-- and by God, is it bliss.

Jill's head rolls back against the stale pillows, back arching off the mattress; she can't bring herself to stop. Drool slips down her cheek, brows pinched tight together, lips twisted into a pleasured scowl. There are tears in her eyes as you start speaking again, complements and insults thrown together all at once. It's making her dizzy.

"I heard that. Don't you dare stop."

Whimpering and huffing, her fingers continue obediently. Free hand cupping over her tit. The one she'd been toying with for a while now, both nipples rock hard. Thighs squeeze around her wrist, thick globs of slick drizzling down her taut anus, creating a puddle beneath her.

"I-i can't, it's- oohhhmmm- it's too much!" she cries out, to nothing, really. She's just straight up babbling at this point.

"Oh, but you can, can't you?" your slurring words spur her on, time after time again. Pulling orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm. Until she's nothing but a breathless, sweaty, slick covered, mess.

She knew if you were there with her right now, you'd help her clean up. Washing her with a warm cloth and massaging her sore muscles. That's how it would be.

But, since it can't be that way. You talk her to sleep.

Telling her how good she did, how proud of her you were, etc. Anything to help her have a good night's rest before she comes home to you tomorrow.

"Goodnight, honey."

She'll worry about the mess in the morning.

[narcissistshandler]

hello, idk if you write fluff but if you do, imagine a fwb relationship afab geto where reader got jealous seeing him spending time with a random girl. so that night reader was being too rough making suguru say his safeword. which ofc made reader stop and provide lots if aftercare. idk im feeling the need for fluff rn lmaoo, and with amab reader pls? thankss

𝗔 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn reader x geto suguru

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 amab!reader, afab!geto, use of vagina/clitoris/pussy for geto's genitals, friends with benefits, sub/dom dynamics, overstimulation, sex toys, vaginal penetration, humiliation, squirt, talking about pee, pushing boundaries, use of safeword, oral in public (geto receiving, just mentioned), reader is a mean dom

✧ 𝖠/𝖭: Hi, thanks for the request, this is only the second time I've written something merely similar to fluff, but I hope you like it ♡

It's need to blink several times to ward off the tears that accumulate in the corners of his eyes, which slide down the side of his face, onto the mattress. The lamp on the ceiling was brightly bright and the entire lit room was starting to feel like too much exposure. He wanted to shrink down and become small enough to disappear into the middle of the huge double bed.

Your fingers travel from his heel, towards his legs pressed together and the sigh that leaves Suguru's swollen lips is shaky. He is so wet that he can feel the moisture on the inside of his thighs and his clit pulses heavily, painful and uncomfortable, the entrance tightens, unable to close by the set of vibrators you had placed inside him, taking your time pressing the vibrator post dildo in his sweet pussy. He felt raw.

“Open your legs for me,” your tone was gentle, but your fingers tight around his ankle were firm. He hesitated. The vibrations at different speeds inside him could be felt in his stomach, frequent, strong, intense. Too much. “Suguru.”

Suguru obeyed the order, shaky legs parting for you.

You didn't even praise him like you normally would as you used your grip to direct one of his legs to your shoulder and your free hand reached down to touch his full entrance. A single finger slid inside, pressing against the vibrating plastic toys and stimulating him to the threat of pain. Pain was usually good, welcome, as sweet as pleasure, but today something felt different.

You didn't respond to any of his messages for over a week, avoiding him and then, today you suddenly took the initiative to text him, calling him to your house, but your mind felt distant since you opened the door for him. Suguru wondered what was more important than this moment, the here and now? Who took your thoughts?

“You’re just a slut for getting your pussy filled. A filthy little thing begging to be used.” Your finger sank in further and bent, pulling his hole through the wet mess. A muscle on his inner thigh jumped in response.

Suguru breathed through his teeth. His body didn't react like it usually did, it didn't tighten, get wet and beg for your cock. He wanted your cock, but only because he wanted to be closer to you, wanted your focus to be on fucking him, not on anything that was on your mind.

“I-I'm not,” he argued, the voice sounding unfamiliar and distant in his own ears.

You laughed, a dark sound that made Suguru look at you. “Oh, but you are.”

Your finger stopped your attempts to widen his tight channel further, but Suguru didn't allow himself to relax for even a minute. The five, maybe six or seven toys of different shapes, sizes and weights were already stretching him to the limit, the vibrations could be felt at the base of his spine. Suguru had already cum three times and the sensitivity seemed to be getting worse by the second, despite knowing he was leaking enough to form a wet puddle beneath his ass, he felt dry, tense, uncomfortable, all at the same time.

Everything would be better if you touched him as usual, kissed him and looked at him like before. Even if it was all fake, he would rather have the lies of a merely sexual relationship than this.

“Let me go,” he pleaded in an uncertain whisper. His nails had left scratches and crescent marks behind his own hands that were tied together with black rope, pressed against his bare chest. The entire body was naked, covered only by red and purple marks, sweat and dried saliva.

“You don’t give the orders here, remember?”

Suguru forced himself to continue breathing deeply, even as the tip of a particular toy hit a sensitive spot and he could feel his bladder tense. You were already looking at him so coldly, he didn't want to imagine what you would say if him ended up wetting your bed - the thought made it harder not to cry, not to allow a sob to rise up his throat. He didn't want to disappoint you, he didn't want you to feel angry and disgusted with him.

“I want to, uh, touch you,” he said as he forced his eyes closed, fingers clenching at an uncomfortable angle.

“You can’t,” you said. Your touch faded and Suguru's foot that was on your shoulder dug in an anxious action, just to make sure you were still there. He didn't want to be left alone in the darkness. “Don’t be gross now, Suguru, making such a big mess.”

And it would be a lie to say that Suguru didn't feel when the jets of liquid began to be expelled between the toys, pushing them out of his convulsing walls, with force. But he hoped you didn't notice, or at least pretended not to. Shame gnawed at his insides.

“That-that...” he fumbled for words, legs tense and body hot to the point that the friction against the sheets was irritating. This has never happened before, Suguru wanted to assure you immediately. Instead, he begged, “Please, I’m s-sorry.”

“That’s not urine, is it? I was hoping you would use your words if you wanted to go to the bathroom. Look what you did in my bed now.”

Suguru wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. "I..."

The sound of your hands working to undo your pants was distant beneath his breathing becoming increasingly labored, his nails scratching his skin. “Who else would accept a slut so dirty that can’t say he needs to go to the bathroom like you, if not me?” you questioned, there was something bitter in your tone that Suguru couldn't identify. “Nobody.”

“I-I don’t want to play anymore,” he muttered softly.

You continued as if he hadn't said anything:

“Definitely not that girl.”

Girl? Suguru thought. What girl?

The tip of your cock touched his rippling entrance. Suguru was stretched out, so wet and twice as sensitive; he could still vaguely hear the sound of vibrations. His entire body began to shake when just the head entered him and you stopped, letting him feel how his tense and aching walls contracted around the intrusion. You grabbed Suguru's sensitive clit between two fingers, pinching it mercilessly.

“Plea-” he choked.

The onset of an orgasm or a blackout made his eyes roll back under the closed lids.

“Look at me, Suguru,” you said, it didn’t feel like an order or a request, it felt like begging. Your cock sank an inch deeper. Shock rattled through his bones. “Open your eyes or I’m going to take every toy we have and shove them inside you and I swear I’ll leave them there until...”

The rest of your words were lost when the first sob sounded and genuine tears ran down Suguru's face. Why you...?

“Red.” He panted out of bed; heat expressed under his skin, rose up his throat. Suguru choked around the safe word. “Red, red, red, red.”

Your touch was gone. You were slow in pulling out of him, but still quick enough that within seconds, everything was dissolved into nothing. Nothing. He sobbed, pulling his legs closer to his chest and turning onto his side, even though the pressure against his sex was terrible, he realized he wanted the pain, thought he deserved it.

You were murmuring something, fingers running through his sweat-damp hair and Suguru only noticed that his hands were already free when he moved them in search of you, even with his eyes closed, his fingers found your shirt and squeezed, not wanting to be alone in the dark.

“Suguru,” you were saying. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I went too far. I didn't mean any of those things, okay? Believe me," you begged. “Can you talk to me? Suguru?”

He didn't respond, still couldn't reason through the sensitivity scratching his skin.

“Can you at least open your eyes for me? Please?" it was a question this time. Suguru shook his head, feeling tour fingers leave his hair and run down his face, wiping away the trail of tears. He opened his eyes. Your worried, guilty face stared back at him. "There you are. Is it okay if I touch you?”

Suguru nodded. He realized he wanted you to touch him.

You gently rubbed his arms where the ropes left pink marks behind, then touched the scratch marks. Keeping one hand in his - that tightly gripped your fingers -, you reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand and settled into the bed next to him. Without much difficulty you pulled Suguru's tense body up and against yours, letting his head fall onto your shoulder before opening the bottle and placing it against his dry lips.

“You need to drink, dear.”

After drinking the entire contents of the bottle, you let him slide back onto the bed. Suguru's nose pressed against your pillow, inhaling your scent clinging to the fabric. His skin felt like it was on fire and he had to keep one of his legs bent in front of him to avoid putting even more pressure on his pulsing sex. Suguru could feel slick lube oozing out of him, his entrance opening and closing. He felt disgusting and damn vulnerable. And the tears didn't stop falling.

Your hand fell on his hip and without another word, you turned him around so he was facing you. A dissatisfied moan rose in his throat, but before it could be vocalized, cold touched his skin. Suguru sighed with relief as the cloth passed over his hot, sweaty skin. He had to fight the urge to close his legs as the cold ventured between them and passed over his swollen sex, it felt good.

Everything seemed to take forever. Your footsteps echoed as if from a great distance and what seemed like hours later, the bed next to him dipped, your hand running down his side and fitting into the back of his knee, careful to spread his legs in the same position Suguru was in previously. "Thank you," he said softly, a mere husky whisper. Thank you for not leaving him alone, even after all the mess he made, even after he got wet and...

Your hand didn't go away and instead, it ran up his leg and traveled over his hip. You asked, "What do you need, Suguru? I need you to talk to me."

His skin burned like an out-of-control fire, his sex felt like raw meat and the words you said to him still lingered in his mind, the way you looked at him; as if he were nothing. There was a lump in his throat and Suguru couldn't look you in the eyes.

“Can you… lay with me?” he asked, hesitant like a small child, eyes down.

“Sure, dear.” There was sweetness in his tone, but Suguru still noticed the distance in them. Your mind still felt elsewhere and all he desperately wanted was for you to focus on him and him alone.

You lay on the bed next to him, your fingers seeming to play a melody that only you knew on his waist, the skin wet with sweat. “Should I change the sheets?” you asked as you pulled Suguru closer, pulling him away from the wet spot. The sheets, however, were his last concern.

"...What was all that?" Suguru asked. He kept his arms close to his chest, even though he really wanted to touch you, he didn't know if he could handle being pushed away. Suguru had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't right to feel this way, that you didn't belong to him, just like he didn't belong to you.

You took a while to respond and your fingers stopped.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I had my head elsewhere and ended up taking it out on you. It wasn’t your fault, you were perfect, you always are.” The compliment sent butterflies through his stomach.

“You were thinking about someone else.” The accusation came out harsher than intended. “What girl were you talking about?”

“I wasn’t thinking about someone else,” you said, “I was thinking about you.”

“...About me?”

“That girl at the bar, two weeks ago, who gave you her number. You called?"

Suguru took a while to understand what you were talking about. Two weeks ago... He remembered going out with your friends, how the loud music had been intoxicating enough for you both to forget that you were in public and that none of your friends knew about the other kind of relationship that you two had - if he could call it that. The girl at the bar who slipped a piece of paper with her number into the pocket of his tight pants, however, was a blurry, secondary memory to how your tongue had been inside him in the dirty bathroom afterwards.

“Why would I call?”

“Don’t call.” It wasn't a request at all. “She can’t have you.”

Suguru's heart skipped a beat. He finally found the courage to look you in the eyes.

“What does that mean?” He needed a direct and clear answer. He needed to make sure you meant what he thought.

“You’re not mine,” you said and his chest tightened. “We are just friends, even if we kiss and meet secretly to have sex, even when we know each other's bodies intimately, just friends. I don't want that anymore. I don't want the 'friends with benefits' status anymore. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. I want to be the one to have you naked, satiated and relaxed in my bed. Every night and every day.”

Despite drinking water, his throat still felt dry, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He felt like crying again, this time for an entirely different reason. “I-I want to be yours,” he said in a low, strangled voice, the words barely coming out. But he was urgent to respond, before you could change your mind. Suguru repeated, louder, “I want to be yours. I want this. All of it.”

"Yes, dear? Do you want a relationship? Do you want me to hold you in my arms to sleep every night? Because that’s what I’m concluding,” you said, a smile taking over your mouth. Suguru can't help but press himself against you, nose against your neck. He whimpered as he nodded in affirmation, it felt like thousands of butterflies fluttering their wings inside his stomach, in a good way. It felt like a dream. “I’ll never let you go again if you say yes.”

“Yes,” Suguru moaned, tears flashing in his eyes. "Yes. Don’t let me go, ever.”

Your fingers slid through the dark strands of his hair. You let him cry as you pressed kisses against his head. “I was really hard on you earlier, I’m sorry,” you said. “I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you, I shouldn't have said any of those things when I know that humiliation is one of your limits. I will be more careful from now on to never hurt you again.”

Suguru just continued to nod. He accepted your apology, he knew you were sincere and you stopped as soon as he said his safe word - he forgave you. But he didn't apologize for using it and Suguru knew you also didn't want him to feel sorry for being able to set his own boundaries and protect himself.

“Is there anything you need, my love?”

That made a smile pull at his lips, moving his face away from your neck so he could look at you, hands gripping your clothes. “You haven't kissed me once since I arrived.”

“I didn’t even notice, forgive me,” you said, your thumb rubbing his red cheek to calm the tears that still fell from his dark eyes. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Suguru rolled his eyes.

"Idiot."

Your thumb rubbed his bottom lip, dry and cracked, with red bite marks. The touch made him close his eyes, mouth opening in pure muscle memory and when your finger slid inside and touched his teeth, Suguru closed the lips and sucked. Your taste filled his senses and then, your lips pressed against his, slowly pulling your thumb out of Suguru's mouth, your other hand steadying the back of his head.

There was nothing innocent and chaste about the way your lips moved against his, hard enough that threatened to leave the imprint of your mouth on his. Saliva wet Suguru's dry lips and he could still feel the ghost of your touch on his tongue. He wanted more of you, of your taste. He wanted to dive into your mouth and never let go.

The lack of air made the two of you separate and Suguru instinctively searched for your lips again, even as his chest rose and fell. You must have been so ecstatic about your new relationship status that you kissed him again, through the lack of air, searching for oxygen against each other's mouths. And then kissed him again. Again. And again. Until Suguru's lips were numb.

“Is there anything else you need?”

He just needed you. Just it.

“Hug me.”

You did it. You wrapped your arms around him firmly, knowing that right now nothing bothered Suguru more than not being in your arms. Between sweet kisses that left his mind spinning in ecstasy, your voice filled the silent room, the words of love, appreciation and praise making Suguru's toes curl, a new shade of blush rising on his damp cheeks.

“I love you, always have,” you said, right over his ear. “Don’t be afraid, Suguru. I'll still be here when you wake up, ready to repeat all these things to you, to remind you how amazing and good you are, how beautiful and how much I love you. I will never let you go, it's a promise.”

Darkness appeared behind Suguru's closed eyelids and this time, without fear of being alone in the dark, he allowed himself to relax in your embrace.

“I love you too.”

[yayakoishii]

Type | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Genre: Angst with Happy Ending

Warning(s): Alcohol consumption, drunken confessions

Inspired by: Your Type by Carly Rae Jepsen

Summary: You know you're not Sanji's type. Yet you also can't bring yourself to get over him. Consoling yourself with alcohol doesn't go as planned...

A/n: I'm done with Sanji fics, I say. Then I proceed to write a Sanji fic because I'm so in love with this boy it's ridiculous. Apparently all it takes is one reminder of why I love him and I'm a puddle for him again. Probably why a lot of my fics have so many compliments for him. I always want him to know how amazing he is hahaha~

also available on ao3!

The big bonfire had plunged everyone in a golden and orange hue, the warmth in the atmosphere lingering from the aftermath of another island successfully saved (and destroyed) by the Straw Hat crew. In one corner, Sanji was flirting with some girls, who were looking at him shyly and hanging on with great interest.

Somehow, it didn't feel as good as always. The blonde chef found his mind instead conjuring up your sweet smile and a giggle. Flirting with you was different. Somehow, it was the only time he felt giddy now-a-days. It was weird, but Sanji wasn't an idiot to not understand what it meant.

He knew he was falling for you and yet, he was also aware that his heart had chosen an impossible target. You were the most kind, generous and sweet person he had ever come across– and there was no way you would ever look at him as a potential partner. Sanji knew that, his brain knew that, but his heart was adamant. It has chosen and it refused to let go.

Giving up to its whims again, the chef excused himself from the ladies, who looked disappointed and tried to make him stay but he gently refused by giving some excuse and a compliment. Feeling eyes on him, Sanji looked around to find you shooting him a glare. It startled him, especially when he noticed the glass of alcohol in your hand.

You hated the bitter taste of alcohol. You never drank it and always refused it so what could have made you drink today? Sanji couldn't understand but he found his feet making way towards you the moment you swayed where you sat. His hands found purchase upon your shoulders when he was close enough and he steadied you such that you were leaning against his stomach.

You inhaled deeply, almost like you were taking in Sanji's scent, and it made a shiver run down his back.

"Sanji…" Your voice was a mere whisper in the din of the party but somehow, it reached Sanji's ears. "Take me home."

Home meant your room in the Thousand Sunny, a place Sanji had never stepped foot in. He had, at times, escorted you to the door but never went in and you had never offered either– it seemed like he would intrude on your personal space if he ever asked.

"Of course," he said quietly, carefully helping you to stand up. You never drank, but now that you had, Sanji wasn't sure if you had drunk too much or if you were a lightweight because you nearly collapsed again, giggles bubbling up your lips.

"My legs feel like jelly," you slurred towards the end, putting all your weight on Sanji, who easily held you up as you tried to straighten up. "Jelly… Milk pudding… ah, your milk pudding the other night was so good, Sanji."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart," he patiently let you struggle for a while before you gave up and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Your mood swings were extreme when you got drunk, apparently. "How about I carry you back, my love?"

"Would you?" You peered up at him through your wet eyelashes and Sanji wanted to kiss your tears away. Even while crying, you were somehow the most beautiful sight with your adorable red nose, the flush of alcohol making your ears and neck and cheeks warm, droplets sticking to your eyelashes.

Without a word, he picked you up like you weighed nothing in a princess carry, and you squeaked at the sudden dizziness. Your arms automatically came to circle around his neck and Sanji hoped that you wouldn't be able to hear his heart hammering at such a close distance. You were pressed against him, and he could feel you– it was too much for his heart and he really didn't want to let you know how much of a big fat crush he had on you, lest it embarrassed him in front of you.

To you, he always wanted to appear like a cool, suave and charming guy. And yet, when you were around, he always ended up fumbling or stuttering or messing things up. The effect you had on him drove him crazy.

"You're so cool," you murmured, your lips tickling his collarbone from where they were pressed. "Your hands are always cold, did you know that, Sanji?"

"Yes," the chef smiled to himself, watching you draw hearts with your finger on his shirt. You were pouting again. "Is everything alright, love?"

"Mm?" You looked up at him, eyes wide and glossy.

"You never drink," Sanji gestured his head back towards the party, which was now quite a distance away that the noise had dwindled down. In the silence of the night, the moment felt all too personal and intimate. "Did something happen?"

"I got tired," you whispered, pausing from drawing hearts. You looked away, warm tears running down your cheeks. "It's been a bit hard these days. Love is hard, Sanji."

Sanji's heart skipped a beat at the last sentence. You were in love?

"I know I shouldn't," you continued on, no longer looking at him but at the starry sky above you, "that my feelings will just ruin everything. I know I'm not his type, and I know he will never look at me the way I want him to. I know he will only ever see me as a friend at most but God, if I just didn't love him as much I do. I want to do so many things with him, for him, to him– I want to be by his side and love him."

"He is a very lucky man," Sanji's mouth felt dry as he spoke. The food he had eaten suddenly seemed to want to come out the way it had come in and Sanji was sure that the only reason he hadn't puked yet was because you were in his arms. You, who were in love with some other man. Probably someone from the crew. (Was it Zoro? Sanji never actually hated the guy, despite his claims, but he felt like he really might resent him a little if the mosshead was the one receiving your affections.)

"Is he?" Your voice wavered. "He won't ever look at me that way. It kills me when I see him with other girls because I know he will never see me beyond a comrade because that's just how it is. I'm not, I'm not the type of girl he would fall for."

"He must be blind then," Sanji said loudly. You had reached the Sunny and got onto the deck, but he simultaneously wanted this conversation to end and not end. Who was it you liked? Zoro didn't flirt. Was it Ussop? He sometimes fooled around. "To not notice you, to not, to not realise your value." To not realise that he was a lucky bastard who got your love when Sanji would do anything for it. Anything. "W- Who…"

Sanji swallowed the lump in his throat before trying again.

"Who is he?"

You didn't answer for a few seconds. He tried to gauge out your reaction and found that you looked angry. Your mood swings were really extreme.

"I hate you," you hit Sanji's chest without any real power in it. The words were like a slap to Sanji, who looked at you heart-broken. You were angry, but you were still crying. "I wish I could mean that. I wish I could look at you and not constantly feel so in love with you. I wish you were mean or horrible or a jerk so I could get over you but you're, you're kind. You're sweet. You treat me like I'm the most precious and important person to grace the earth. You comfort me and you hold me and you flirt but never force anything on me. You're a gentleman, you're caring and I see you. I see who you are and I fall in love. I'm sorry, Sanji, I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ruining everything, for taking advantage of your kindness, but I can't make it stop. I can't–"

You sucked in a deep breath, scratching at Sanji to let him let you down. The chef did so, too shocked to say or do anything else.

"I can't look at you and not love you, Sanji," you whispered, eyes reflecting a broken and sad look. "I'm sorry I love you."

For a few seconds he didn't know what to say, brain trying to catch up with everything you had said. Him. You loved him. Not someone else, him.

You seemed to take his silence as your answer and turned around to leave but Sanji panicked and tugged at your hand, making you bump into his chest. His hands came around you in a circle, holding you with a desperation he didn't know he had in him.

"Don't be," he said breathlessly, feeling winded from the rush of his own feelings and thoughts. "Don't be sorry for making my dream come true, not when all I have wanted is for you to love me back. And don't be sorry for entrusting your heart to me. I swear, sweetheart, if you would let me, I'll take so good care of it. I'll never let you regret it. So please, give me your heart. Because I already gave you mine without either of us knowing."

You chuckled, the daze of having your love returned making everything feel unreal. You turned around and got on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss against his lips.

"Silly boy, it was always yours to begin with."

Sanji's heart was still hammering as he looked at you giving him a sweet smile and pulling him into a hug. You stayed like that for a few minutes, just the two of you under the stars on an empty ship, swaying lightly to inaudible music. A few moments passed before Sanji realised that your breath was evened out– you had fallen asleep in his arms.

That made him laugh, looking at your peaceful and smiling face burrowed in his chest, right next to his heart. Remembering what you had said before, Sanji carefully tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Then silly girl, you should know you were always my exact type, to begin with."

°•❀•°

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