#Like asking someone out to make fun of them y’know
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beenbaanbuun · 2 days ago
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guard dog w/ jeong yunho
pt2
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you live in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood surrounded by shitty neighbours who seem to make it their life’s work to make your life a living hell
the guy that lives across from you is an aspiring dj, emphasis on aspiring
unfortunately with him working the late shift at his supermarket job, it means he likes to practice late into the night
after the first 5 noice complaints, you just gave up trying to get a decent night sleep; part of you thinks he carried on just as one giant ‘fuck you’
the family that live upstairs aren’t great either
the son—timmy? tommy? who cares—thinks it’s fun to sit on the stairs with his buddies and smoke anything they can get their hands on
your air freshener is the only thing keeping you from losing your mind at them! well, that and the fact that quite frankly him and his friends terrify you
they watch you carefully as you make your way down the stairs, pushing through their congregation with a tight lipped, overly polite smile on your face
usually they don’t say a word, giving you little more acknowledgment than a hum as you thank them for barely making enough room for you to push through them
they make you nervous, you can’t deny that, and half of you thinks that’s the whole point
it’s like it’s some sort of strange power play to keep you from complaining to his parents, or worse, the landlord
not exactly a threat, but not not one
maybe it’s those nerves that made you open up to your friend one day
you’d met up with him at a local cafe, offering to pay for his coffee if he gave you half of the sandwich he’d brought with him
“they just spook me a little, y’know?” you mumble as a few crumbs topple over your bottom lip and onto your chin, “it’s a group of 10 over-grown teenage boys; it’s fucking intimidating!”
mingi just nods along, a small frown on his face as he listens to you complain about your living conditions for what seems like the millionth time
he gets it; moving is expensive, especially in the city, and you need to stay relatively close to where you work since you don’t have a car
it doesn’t mean he has to like it, though
“what about a guar—”
“a guard dog?” you cut him off, “mingi, we’ve had this conversation so many times before!”
it’s the truth; it seems like every single time you see him he brings up the same suggestion; scary dog privileges can get you very far in life according to you friend
“too mentally ill to look after another life, sure,” he reiterates the same point you make every single time, “but what about a hybrid?”
again, it feels like you’re in a constant loop of deja vu, destined to relive this conversation over and over again until you can finally afford to move out of that shit hole
“i can’t aff—”
“—afford a hybrid, yeah i know,” you roll your eyes as he finishes your sentence; jesus, he’s annoying, “but what if i told you i knew a guy?”
it sounds suspicious, but you won’t lie and say you’re not a little curious
perhaps you’re just a little too nosy to not lean in a little closer with a brow cocked a question of ‘who?’ primed on your tongue
“can’t say,” is all mingi says, “he doesn’t like people poking around in his business.”
he says it so nonchalantly as if he’s not your best friend who’s just announced that he knows someone who is almost definitely into some dodgy shit
you’d be a bad friend if you didn’t ask at least a few questions, but before you can even open your mouth, mingi beats you to it
“£200 will get you a hybrid though,” you almost choke on the sandwich at the price; this is some seriously dodgy guy if he’s selling hybrids for that little, “£300 if you start laying down preferences.”
“mingi,” you begin, about to beg him to get out of whatever business he’s getting himself involved in
“i’m assuming it’s a no?” he raises an eyebrow; you don’t even have to nod for him to understand your answer
he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender like he always does whenever you have this conversation
still, the smirk on his face as the conversation moves onto something else doesn’t fill you with the upmost confidence
a week passes by rather quickly; you work, you come home, you go about your evenings as normal, you sleep
nothing seems any different, and why would it? nothing about your life ever really changes without some sort of built up or expectation
and then your doorbell rings
you assume it’s just your neighbour again, around at yours to ask you some sort of stupid question that could easy be solved using a single braincell and google
you trudge to the door with a sour look on your face and a bitterness already growing on your tongue, just to swing it open to see… not your neighbour
not anyone you recognise for that matter
your gaze travels up from the chest you stand eye-to-eye with, traipsing lazily over the defined muscles on his neck before reaching his face
a jaw set in stone, two steely brown eyes and a pair of jet black dog ears are what immediately catch your attention
that and the fact that he’s very handsome; so much so that it takes everything in you not to stare at him with your mouth wide open
“are you going to let me in?” he says as if the hybrid’s arrival at your door was at all expected by you
“who are you?” is the only response you can
“your guard dog,” he replies, and just like that everything clicks into place
mingi, that bastard
“but i didn’t pay for a guard dog,” you argue, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him go back to whatever creep it is that mingi has gotten involved with
“well, someone did.”
he looks bored as he uses a hand to push you aside and steps past you into your tiny apartment, as if this is just another day for him
maybe it is; you don’t know much about hybrids, but you’ve heard enough stories to know just how many of them go through life without a permanent home
they’re tossed from pillar to post as if they’re not conscious beings with minds and lives of their own
it’s sad, the fact that they can be so easily tossed aside by so many people
it’s even sadder to find yourself relating to that feeling
you shut the door, twisting the lock with a finality that you’re not sure you understand
“what’s your name?” you ask as you turn to face him
“yunho,” he sighs
it’s a pretty name, you think to yourself
one that you wouldn’t mind saying over and over again for the… foreseeable future…
seriously, fuck song mingi
“well i’m—”
“i know your name, puppy,” your mouth snaps shut at the authority that laces itself into his words, “it’s all i’ve heard for the past few days.”
you zip your mouth shut, something in your brain warning you not to speak out of turn
something in your brain seems to forget that this is your own home; surely you can speak whenever you want to
“i wasn’t sure what to expect, but you seem to fit the bill,” dark pupils land on your body, dancing up and down your form before finally meeting your eyes, “a pretty thing like you in a town like this? i’m shocked you’re still in one piece.”
“how dare you, i—”
“where am i sleeping?” he cuts you off like your complaints are little more than the stubborn words of a child
it irritates you to no end, and yet you can’t find the words to fight back
there’s just something in his eyes that has you convinced that maybe you’re not the one in charge here
“the couch,” you point to the ratty leather thing, feeling a slight twinge of guilt that it’s the only thing you have to offer
he takes a glance at at for just a second or two before shaking his head
“no,” he replies, “you have a double bed, right?”
“a double—” your eyes go wide, “you’re not sleeping in my bed!”
“yes, i am,” he insists, condescending and annoying. you hate him already, “because i’m certainly not sleeping on that thing, puppy.”
it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s yet to use your name, instead sticking to that godforsaken nickname
if you thought it would make a difference, you might say something about it, but the stubborn arsehole has already shown enough of himself to make you understand that it would do very little
“the floor is available,” you spit, venemously
“and yet it tempts me even less than the sofa,” he smiles sarcastically and it boils your blood, “you’re just gonna have to get used to sharing.”
he takes a few paces forward until you’re having to crane your neck to look him in the eyes
you can practically feel his breath dancing across your cheeks as he lets out a low chuckle, a darkness washing over his face as he studies you
“you’re gonna have to get used to a lot of things now that i’m here,” warmth spreads across your cheek as his palm moves to cup it, “but that’s okay puppy, i can be patient while you learn.”
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Actually, I really liked the WOTFI overall, it’s only the ending that rubbed me the wrong way.
We got Puzzles and Leggy bonding in the Meme Factory mini-arc and I’m satisfied with the amount of it that was in WOTFI. There’s still time for Meggy’s feelings on the situation to be explored as a sort of epilogue, wouldn’t be the first time.
I liked the battle being musical it suits Puzzles well. And it’s not like it wasn’t tense during the musical number. The bit where Four and Mario saved Meggy when Puzzles tried to slam her into the ground was awesome. I love that Four sucks at fighting until someone he cares about is in danger and the adrenaline kicks in.
I think it’s fun that if everything had gone according to plan and they hadn’t turned Meggy back… Puzzles would’ve just… kept them playing minigames forever. You’ll play fun games with him and LIKE IT!
Ties into the fact that he’s always calling the crew his “friends”. Y’know
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Brainwashing people to force them to spend time with him. He tried asking nicely and it didn’t work. This is the closest to friendship he’s gonna get and he’s just resigned himself to that.
And Meggy is genuinely convinced this is what’s best for him. Alas, the traumatized beanie girl has too much trust in the justice system 😔.
Wish we’d gotten to see her be his lawyer and have him plead insanity thinking this would help.
She’s trying to help even if she’s still really mad at Puzzles! I love that for her! I love her going “I know there’s a scared little child inside you” and trying to help him and get through to him but still being mad about what he’s done and having trouble letting that go even when confronting the most vulnerable part of Puzzles! She finds that scared little child with the intent of talking him down and ends up just yelling at him, but she also literally gave him a part of herself with Leggy!
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I think that’s part of what’s made me more okay with the ending. I’ve come around to it a liiittle bit. I still don’t like it because implications of insane asylum and Puzzles was already treading a line there of being a sort of “I’m a twisted cycle path and I’m going to Jeff the Kill you while the song Pretty Little Psycho plays” thing. Y’know the trope: mostly benign due to sheer unseriousness but still sorta villainizing poor mental health.
But… Y’know the more I think about it the less it feels like Meggy was intentionally tricking Puzzles or using his vulnerable, lonely inner child against him. And that makes me a little more okay with it all. I still don’t like it. I don’t blame Puzzles for feeling like he’s been “double-crossed”, but I don’t blame Meggy either (not that I did before. Before I saw it as cruel but understandable in universe given the circumstances, now I see it as Meggy is so well-meaning she wants to help everyone so bad but Meggy. Honey. No…)
Meggy’s earnestly trying to help! I just wish Mario had let Puzzles talk for long enough that he and Four could get some idea what’s going on with Puzzles. (LET FOUR SEE HIMSELF IN PUZZLES ALREADY. THE NARRATIVE FOIL OF ALL TIME! GUYS WHO CARE TOO MUCH ABOUT PLEASING AN AUDIENCE AND ARE BAD AT EMPATHY! BELOVED!) Because right now the only one with any idea what he’s going through is so incredibly ill-equipped to help him and frankly shouldn’t have to! also this
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She’s so well meaning but bad at it! I think about this line more than I should! Went to helping people school they told her to whack people with golf clubs and she sees no problems with this.
So bad at helping! Mario would literally rather die! I love her!
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uuuhhh where’s that post
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Also OOOH! I’ll have to keep an eye out for your fanfic.
sooo…
WOTFI
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THEY DIDNT ADDRESS ANY OF THE PARALLELS AND THEN THEY
INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM
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I’m so mad about this. I’m so mad. I’m so mad.
because okay. Okay remember this.
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His super dramatic flinch here and there was that post going around like “I wonder what happened in Mr Puzzles’ childhood to make him flinch like that“
CHILD PUZZLES DOES THE SAME THING
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EVERY TIME MEGGY/LEGGY APPROACHES HIM HE FLINCHES. HE COWERS. EVEN OUTSIDE OF THE POTENTIAL CONCLUSION HE WAS BEATEN, SOMEONE GENUINELY CARING ABOUT HIM IS SUCH A FOREIGN CONCEPT THAT HE ASSUMES THE ONLY REASON ANYONE WOULD GET CLOSE IS TO HARM HIM.
AND HE’S NOT EVEN WRONG?! THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS?
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THEY INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM HE IS TIED TO A TABLE IN A PADDED ROOM. THEY APPEALED TO HIS HUMANITY AND FOUND THE GOOD IN HIM AND THEY USED IT AGAINST HIM.
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YOU THINK THATLL HELP HIM? TARGETING THE MOST VULNERABLE PART OF HIMSELF AND GETTING HIM SENT TO AN ASYLUM?
AND IT SUCKS BECAUSE I WAS LEGITIMATELY ENJOYING THE EPISODE BEFORE THAT! I was having fun until that ending. That’s literally the one thing I didn’t like. The scene with Kid Puzzles was really well done. Everybody’s outfits were so cool. IGBP flesh blobs were there that was really cool
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but then
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I hate this. Genuinely worse than killing him off to me. It just feels wrong
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bbygirlsunite · 7 months ago
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This is the second episode with a character being excited and happy for something that’s going to bring them immense pain and personally I can’t stand that
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lamentfulwarbler · 7 months ago
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Was meant to be writing and ended up doing a sketch thing for my au,,
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For those who can’t read the text, it reads ‘Canonverse Chuuya’, and ‘Backstory Swap au Dazai’
Edit: attempted to space them out better bc tumblr killed the quality 💀
#uhhhh. do i maintag this?#y’know what. sure#bsd#bsd au#bsd chuuya#bsd dazai#if Chuuya’s arm looks weird. uh#no it doesn’t. it defo did not take me an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to make that arm look. somewhat natural#idk. ask me abt my au if you want. i’ll answer any questions i can#dunno if i’ll ever make a fic of it. maybe one day lol#i actually really like how swap Dazai’s side came out#i know it might look a little cluttered but i promise that’s intentional#lamentfulwarbler’s soukoku backstory swap au#<- just in case i ever make any more posts about the au#purposefully specific so that there’s less chance of accidentally cramping someone elses tag 🙏#(swap dazai’s ability is called the setting sun btw)#(i promise his background is orange for a reason and not just me forgetting the red blue dynamic skk have-)#actually if we’re talking swap au ability names i might as well give chuuya’s as well#(if you couldn’t tell from the earlier tag. only skk are swapped)#swap chuuya’s ability is called Self-Portrait on a Cold Night#but hes not featured here. just thought that was a fun little fact#also. just in case it wasn’t obvious. Swap Dazai is in his version of Corruption. his whole schtick is different to canon Chuuya’s though-#-bc I didn’t want them to be /too/ similar#theres no fun in a swap au thats just canon but the designs and names are swapped#at least not for me-#i even tried to keep their canon personalities but with different reasonings and stuff!#i think its fun to see how different characters. different personalities. would react to similar situations#oh yeah. just in case it wasn’t clear. the lines are meant to be shadows#(like swapzai’s face is clouded in shadows. reason linked to his ability wink wink nudge nudge)#ok wait this is a lot of tags i’m gonna. uh. post now
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omgeto · 1 year ago
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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR EX — GOJO, GETO, TOJI
summary: you have sex with your ex. thats it.
cw: afab!reader, smutty smut smut so mdni. unprotected sex with all of them (since I forget that condoms exist) you sit on geto face, kinda finger fucking & mild hate fucking with toji but its fun, and gojo is just lovely.
an: i was meant to post this last night but I fell asleep writing geto's part so slay. anyways I hope you enjoy lmk what you think!! not proofread so ignore any mistakes please.
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☆ GOJO
“this doesn’t mean we’re back together y’know,” you remind gojo, panting as he thrusts into you.
“you’re really saying that with my dick deep in your cunt,” he taunts, admiring the deep arch of your back, the way your ass ripples every time his hips drive into you. “i’ve missed this.”
“f-fuck keep going,” you moan out, as his dick hits your spot – just how you like it.
“so you don’t miss me?” he pesters, and you roll your eyes, as although you couldn’t see him, you just knew he had a pout on his face. “you really don’t miss me?” he continues his thumb making way to your clit, swiftly flicking at it.
“i don’t miss you.”
gojo pulls out of you almost defiantly, pushing you down – turning you around your back. he stares at you with something you couldn’t quite place, and re enters you just as quickly. he smirks at the way your mouth gapes as his hands roughly grab at your tits, pinching and pulling on your nipples.
“s-someone’s mad,” you egg on, loving the way that his strokes become harder.
“y’know the reason i always loved fucking you this way when we were together?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“what’s with the trip down memory lane?,” you complain, your arms come around his neck as you take him in deeper, “i called you to fuck me, not for whatever you’re tryna do here.”
“because i always got to see all the faces you make,” he continues, completely ignoring your comment, his tongue drags up the side of your jaw, before pressing a quick kiss just under your ear. “and the face your making right now, tells me, that you're lying.”
you scoff, but didn’t say anything because you knew he was right. you did miss the way he’d plough into you, the way he knew the ins and outs of your body – how to please you. “im gonna cum,” you whine out, “satoru please i need yo–”
“you can cum when you admit the truth babe,” he teases, his strokes purposefully shift speed, still keeping you writhing underneath him but just not quite enough to get you there. “just say you miss me.”
“fine,” you force out, exasperated, “i m-miss you i do.”
“see wasn’t so hard, was it?” he kisses you deeply, driving deep into you, and you cum with a cry, you did miss being this close with your ex boyfriend. gojo is quick to finish after you, filling you up with all his cum.
he eventually pulls out of you, collapsing down on the bed next to you pulling you into his hold. you, against your better judgement, relaxing into his arms – which goes against all the rules of sleeping with your ex. “this still doesn’t mean we’re back together,” you add, knowing there was very little truth to that.
“yeah, yeah, whatever you say babe,” he smirks, his lips coming down to your forehead, placing a soft kiss, “so what did you miss about me?”
☆ TOJI
“i thought you didn’t spin the block, princess,” toji asks with a shit-eating grin, as his fingers slip inside of you “what happened to, ‘once an ex always an ex huh?” 
“i’ve always hated that nickname,” you mumble, hissing at the contact of toji’s fingers toying with your pussy, “and there are some exceptions to my rule.”
“so you’re little boyfriends not hitting it right then,” toji grins, pleased at hearing that he was the ‘exception,’ “if you’re here, slutting yourself out on my fingers.” 
“no he’s hitting it greatly,” you smirk, not rising to toji’s comments since you know what he was trying to get at, “i just missed you, that's all.”
“oh so you really have a boyfriend then?” he snapped, his fingers curling up in you.
“no i don't,” a smug smile appears on your face as you see toji’s smirk drop, “but it’s cute that you care though. are you jealous, toji?”
“shut up,” he says moodily, swiftly removing his fingers out of you, pulling you onto his lap.
you straddle him, your face inches from his, “aww are you mad toji?” you taunt with a mock pout. you’ve always loved getting a rise out of toji, you know your ex boyfriend very well, the more pissed off he was, the harder he fucked.
“sit on it,” he commands, the ‘it’ in question being his hard dick that he was furiously stroking at the sight of you. there was something about you that got on toji’s nerves – hence why you didn’t last long as a couple – but that special something was good for times like this. where you could both unleash any pent up energy you have, on eachother.
you welcome his dick eagerly, practically jumping on it, the wetness of your pussy was inviting. his dick slotted in perfectly, making you both curse at the contact. “fuck, you always feel so good,” he praises, loving the feeling of you clenching around his dick whilst you ride him.
there was a forcefulness coming from the both of you, as you were fucking each other as if you had something to prove, as if there was some unspoken competition to see who could get the other to cum first.
“f-fuck,” you mutter, the feeling of toji’s dick pistoning into you becoming too much.
“whats that princess?” toji mocks, grinning seeing your eyes gloss over, he could tell that your dick-stuffed cunt was about to release all over him, “y’gonna cum for me?”
you ignore him, continuing your mission to get toji to fold first. you manoeuvre your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking on his exposed flesh, and he takes a sharp inhale – bingo. you knew toji’s body as well as he knew yours, and he was always was weak for the way you’d nibble and bite on his neck as he fucked you dumb.
“are you gonna cum for me?” you mock mirroring his question, his strokes was getting sloppier, you could tell he was close. but you were not far behind, squirming in his lap about to reach your climax.there were no words that needed to be spoken as you and toji both cum together, your cunt too overloaded with both of your cum, making it drip out all over his dick.
“we should do this again sometime princess,” toji suggests, as you eventually hop off his dick and start putting back on your clothes, “you always know to fuck me right.”
“i’ll think about it,” you conclude, knowing that you’ll probably be back in less than a week, “and stop calling me that fucking nick name,” you say as you leave the room, the only response you hear being toji’s howling laughter.
☆ GETO
if there was one thing that you couldn’t deny your ex boyfriend had, it was his head skills. everytime without fail, he could have you sprawled out on any surface as his tongue laps your pussy. 
“s-shit, you’ve always been way too good at this,” 
“only, to please you,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, before going back to sucking on your clit. your hands knot his hair, pulling and tugging as he works on your folds. he loves it when you play in his hair, showing that he’s getting what he’s aiming for – giving you pleasure. 
your moans only encourage him to toy with your pussy harder, nipping and biting as your thighs clench around his head. he’s been at this for ages, tonguing your cunt for as long as possible, as if to see how long he’d be able to go. 
“sugu ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, pressure building up inside of you, “please let me cum.”
but he doesn't. ignoring your request completely, geto removes his mouth off of you. his lips were practically shining, coated in all the juices from your pussy.  “you know there was one thing we never got to do when we were together,” he starts to say, eyeing with a mischievous smile,
“which is…” you prompt, slightly upset at the lack of stimulation you were getting at your, now throbbing, pussy.
“you never sat on my face,” he utters just above a whisper, licking his lips at the thought of it. 
“but what if I—“
“don’t worry about any of that,” he murmurs, pushing himself further back on the bed, his eyes still focused on you, “come sit.”
you slowly work your way up his body, the mischief in his eyes making you feel excited. you pause, straddling his chest, your hands rest on his shoulders, “are you sure about this?”
“girl if you don’t–” he starts to say, but the rest of his sentence is muffled as he pulls you onto his face, his mouth enveloping your pussy. your hands immediately grip onto the headboard in front of you, as his tongue gives long strokes to your wet pussy, lapping up all the juices spilling from you. 
you were riding his face, your hips moving back and forth against his mouth with his head sandwiched between your thighs. “f-fuck sugu, it’s too much,” you moan out, throwing your head back. 
he grins in response, his hands gripping your ass pushing you onto his mouth deeper. he couldn’t get enough of you, the way you taste, the sweet scent of your pussy that he practically inhales, burying his nose in it.
“s-shit,” you curse, as your cunt explodes onto your ex’s face. you pause, catching your breath, still feeling the pleasurable high he just gave you. he still had his mouth on your pussy, eating up all the cum that was dripping out of you.
“hey suguru, wanna go and–” you turn to see gojo burst into the room, “oh shit, yn? are you two back together?” you scramble off of geto’s face, giving gojo the hardest glare for interrupting. 
“satoru, can’t you see that im busy,” geto chuckles, his mouth still covered with your cum, “im eating here.”
“right…” gojo nods, “i’ll leave you two too it,” but just before he leaves the room you here him yell, “im gonna tell everyone you’re back together.” you both chuckle at your friends antics, and geto pulls you back into him.
“get back on,” he smirks, “who said i was done?”
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AN: so there we go. I love geto's part so much but maybe im biased idk. but yeahhh hope you enjoy the thoughts that I had at like 7 am. DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE
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k9wa · 7 months ago
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⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.
⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.
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⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….
from this request !
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it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time. 
and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.  
boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.
you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes. 
“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”
you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.
“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.
“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”
he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?” 
you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.
now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit. 
“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help. 
he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”
fine, you thought. two can play that game.
you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.
you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red. 
then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.
his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.
you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.
boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.
“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.
“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.
“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—” 
“all done.”
all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.
“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”
boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol. 
“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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alnilaem · 6 months ago
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cw for kidnapping and emotional manipulation
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Ghost spots a bird across the pub with her wings clipped. She trembles as she watches her friend disappear into the sea of gyrating bodies, holding onto a man she just met and is deciding to abandon her for.
“You don’t mind, right?” Her friend had asked.
She chirped ditheringly. “Um… sure, yeah. You go have fun.”
A fickle smile split her cheeks. A warm wash of liquid glossed her eyes.
Ghost watches her watching her friend. Sadness is written into her features. That type of sadness so deep-seated you feel it crushing your ribs, denting your heart. She sighs and hangs her head, staring down at her drink. Her ice cube has melted, the salt crusting her rim having hardened. Her shoulder start to shake.
Ghost decides it would be remiss of him to not check up on her. The bird with frilly feathers and bent wings, wounded, too feeble to fight back.
He throws back the rest of his drink. He doesn’t wince at the burn, but still, Ghost’s face puckers into something different. Something mean as he approaches her and lays his elbow on the bar’s sticky countertop, splitting his hand across the top of her spine.
“What’s a bird like you doin’ all alone?”
She girdles. It’s like she’s been folded in two and hung out to dry, the way she shrinks into herself and flexes her shoulders.
His words hang stagnant for a few seconds. Perhaps it will make him lose interest and slip away, but Ghost is a persistent one. The badges embroidered into his uniform are a testament to that.
He passes his thumb over her neck. She shivers.
“I… um. Well, my boyfriend’s in the bathroom.”
Ghost almost chuckles. The bird says it with such skittish conviction that surely, not even she believes it.
He grunts. “It’s rude to lie, y’know.”
She gulps. “My friend’s with me.”
“The one that just left you?” He asks. “A pretty shit friend, if you ask me. A bird like you deserves someone better.”
She purses her lips because they begin to quiver. She tries shouldering him away, tries blinking back the fat tears of brine that threaten to thaw and slip down her cheek. Her voice is distorted with discomfort and self-pity when she replies, “That’s stupid. I just want her to be happy.”
“And her?” Ghost prompts. He distracts her with his rough lilt as he slips his hand low, into the divot between her ass and waist. “How often does she fuck off with the men you fancy?“
She flinches. It’s the sudden recoil of her muscles, and her mind’s attempt at getting away from him.
“I-it’s not like that.”
“Yeah?” He asks. “It’s not like she leaves you alone every time you go out, lookin’ like a dolt when she finds someone more fun?”
She swallows thickly. Her lips warble around her next words. “… Sometimes, I guess.”
Ghost’s cock jumps. The fat mass pushes against his jeans, angled towards her.
“Yeah,” he croons. “I know how hard it can be. Why don’t you come over to my flat, huh? Give ‘er a taste of her own medicine.”
She inches away. Ghost only holds her tighter, gripping that broken little wing of hers and doting on it.
“I don’t… do that stuff. Sorry.”
Something primal in Ghost barks. That stuff. She’s never taken dick? Or never taken dick from a stranger? Either way, Ghost’s cock stirs and starts drooling on his thigh. She can probably see it. That blotchy stain on his jeans under the mellow lighting.
“I play nice, bird,” he mutters. “And wouldn’t it be nice to get back at them? Your mate? All those blokes who ignored you?”
She squeezes her thighs when Ghost settles his hand on her ass. She has trouble pulling them back apart, her thighs that is, as they’re adhered with slick.
“I asked you a question. Wouldn’t it be nice?”
“I guess so…” she whimpers. Keening into Ghost’s whispering touch, the heat of his cock.
He pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slams it onto the table. He stands up, looking something like a predator on its hind legs, and pulls her from the barstool.
“Let’s go, pretty bird,” he leashes his hand around the base of her neck, leading her outside and into his rust-spattered truck. “You deserve it.”
A stroke of heat licks up her innards. She’s already dazed by the time she’s in his truck, preening as he splits his hand across her leg and digs divots into her thigh, kneading her supple flesh. She’s bleary eyes and impaired on arousal as they drive past the city’s margins and into the outback, the roads turning pebbled.
She’s too excited, too sweet to heed Ghost pulling her out of his truck and hauling her into a neglected flat.
She only feels his hands on her, big and warm. And the cool carbon steel of handcuffs locking around her ankle.
She smiles.
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lynxgriffin · 5 months ago
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Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Jokes
1 | 2 | 3
Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost
Toriel stops by Sans' shop for some goods, and for some more cheery distractions! Unfortunately, all this time later, it's still too difficult to escape reminders of what's been done.
It was fun finally getting to do some stuff with Sans in this universe! The last part for this trio of scenes will be up sometime next week!
Alt text for these pages is under the read more:
Page 1 Panel 1: Interior shot of a small store, with displays of goods, loose plywood, sacks of things. Two circular woven hangings bracket the door through which Toriel enters, a heavyset woman in a polka-dotted dress with a basket over her arm. Sans watches her enter, though we see only the back of his head. 
Panel 2: Toriel enters the shop and we see more displays, mostly food. There are large potted trees as well, and the shop’s counter, draped in patterned cloth and decorated with candles. Toriel: “Well, hello again. I was wondering if you had-” Sans, a jovial, bearded man dressed in loose robes and always smiling, waves a hand and cuts her off. “Hold on, you hear that?”
Panel 3: “...Hear what?” Toriel asks, nonplussed. Up close, her face is soft but distressed.
Panel 4: Sans leans over his slightly messy counter, still grinning. “I HERB that you needed some more cinnamon cloves, and look what I have here!” He offers a handful of herbs. Up close, the cuffs on his robe sleeves are patterned with little bones.  
Panel 5: “Just what I needed! How did you guess?” Toriel exclaims, reaching out with a real smile to accept the herbs. She and Sans are framed by other mysterious shop wares- jars of things, open sacks, rolled-up mats. Things you might find in an open-air desert market. 
Page 2 Panel 1: Sans: “Was just thinking it’d been awhile since I saw you making the neighborhood rounds with some of those pies of yours… Figured you were planning to start this month’s soon!” Sans gestures up at Toriel in explanation. 
Panel 2: Toriel smirks, setting down a handful of coins.  “And perhaps hoping that I would stop by your place first with them?” Sans: “I pride myself on my forward thinking, y’know.” His grin is conspiratorial as he leans towards her and he taps his temple with one finger. 
Panel 3: Toriel, eyes sad despite her smile: “All right. How about this: Tell me a good joke, and you have my word you will have the first and freshest one.”
Panel 4: Sans: “Just a good joke?” He raises an eyebrow. 
Panel 5: Toriel clutches her chest- we don’t see her eyes. “I find myself in desperate need of levity these days.” 
Panel 6: Sans waves his hand as if to keep her from feeling like she need say more, scratching his chin in thought with the other.  “Sure, I got one…” 
Page 3 Panel 1: Sans, with the smug grin of someone about to tell a terrible pun: “Why was the empire soldier happy to get demoted to horse groomer?” Toriel, with her hand on her chin in thought: “I do not know, why?” 
Panel 2: Sans shrugs widely like the answer is obvious. “Because he finally had STABLE employment!” 
Panel 3: Toriel laughs in genuine delight, although maybe a little harder than expected. 
Panel 4: Toriel: “Thank you, I needed that.” She smiles a relieved little smile. Sans: “No problem. So hey, aside from the pie… Can I maybe get an invite to those little get-togethers I see some folks around here doing once a month?” He steeples his fingertips together. 
Panel 5: San’s dialogue continues: “I’m so curious as to what goes on then!” We only see Toriel, though, shocked and dismayed. She’s thinking of the Ritual gatherings- townspeople gathered in their robes and animal masks- reindeer, fish, but most centrally, the goat masks she and Asgore wear. 
Panel 6: Toriel: “Unless you are completely enraptured by tedious talk of planting schedules and building repairs, I believe I can sate your curiosity by saying you would find them quite boring.” She waves a hand in front of her, dismissing the thought- her expression is once again drawn and weary. 
Page 4 Panel 1: Toriel turns to leave, waving goodbye. “You should look forward to your well-earned pie more!” 
Panel 2: Sans gives her a slightly skeptical look. “Alright.” is all he says. 
Panel 3: As she leaves, Toriel looks down and sees for the first time a small statue set by the door, surrounded by candles- it’s not a merchandise display, more like an altar. The statue is a horned figure holding a bowl filled with greenery- an offering of some type. The figure is rounded like a sitting child, and simple, with closed eyes and little other detail. 
Panel 4: Toriel’s dialogue over a close up shot of the figure: “What an interesting little figure you have. It does not look like it is for sale, is it?” The little horned one has three toes and four fingers on its stubby little arms and legs, and a detail on its forehead that could be a suggestion of hair, or it could be a symbol. The pillar candles surrounding it have been burned enough to have long wax drips pooled around them. 
Panel 5: Sans: “Nah, that’s just a holdover from my home country. Supposed to help keep demons out of your space.” He seems uninterested in this bit of lore, but Toriel, still facing away, is wide-eyed and shaken.
Panel 6: Toriel whirls back to him, sweating. “I-Is that so?” 
Panel 7: Sans’s expression intensifies, eyebrows dropping dramatically. “Sure thing. You know what happens when demons get in your grain stores?” 
Page 5 Panel 1: “They’re OATsolutely RYE-ined!” Sans holds his hands wide, like he’s waiting for the rimshot effect. It’s almost like his shop counter and back wall are suddenly a stage. 
Panel 2: Toriel hides a giggle behind her hand, relieved. 
Panel 3: “Is that something you have had to deal with previously?” she asks, stepping a little closer in her interest. Sans makes a slight gesture of dismissal. “Nah, I don’t really go in for that sort of stuff, honestly.”
Panel 4: Sans: “My brother, though… He’s all in on charms and wards and that sort of thing.” He gestures up, as if to point to wherever it is in the town that his brother might be now. 
Panel 5: “Keeping customs from your home country, I suppose?” Toriel asks, drawn again into the shop and closer to Sans. “Something like that,” he responds, leaning forward on his counter. On the wall next to him, there’s another woven wall hanging like the ones over the door.  Toriel: “Do you have any customs that have a reverse effect?” 
Panel 6: Sans looks as skeptical as one can while constantly grinning. “You mean like, if you want demons in your house?” 
Page 6 Panel 1: Toriel puts a hand up in denial. “N-No, that would obviously be undesirable! I meant more… just out of curiosity about your home.” 
Panel 2: Sans stares up at her, for a beat of silence. 
Panel 3: “Maybe? Again, this stuff isn’t my thing.” He leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head, nonchalant as can be. “And anyways, we left our country for a reason. Old customs aren’t relevant in this town, y’know?” 
Panel 4: Toriel once again turns to go, with a rueful smile. “Maybe not… but I cannot imagine letting go of your entire history.”
Panel 5: Sans shrugs and looks away. “There’s worse things to let go of, honestly.” 
Panel 6: Toriel, gritting her teeth, thinks of a happier time tucking Kris into bed. 
Panel 7: Close on Toriel’s expression, now more haggard and pained than it was when she came in. She clutches her chest tight. 
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kotohq · 7 months ago
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##. MY HEART'S GOING LUB-DUB
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♡ things he has said that flustered you.
♡ contents and warnings: established relationships, mentions of making out (nirei), mentions of marriage (sakura), reader’s ears are pierced in suou’s, mild, mild, possessiveness in suou's but not really 🐧
♡ characters: sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suou hayato (x gn! reader)
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Anyone who knows SAKURA HARUKA probably knows that contrary to the delinquent facade he puts up, he is actually quite innocent. A little naive, if you will, blushing at every show of romantic affection. And everyone in Boufuurin knows that’s why he’s become subject to Suou Hayato’s teasing when the brown haired boy needed a good chuckle. And of course, you, as his very lovely partner, had to also jump on the bandwagon of endearingly poking fun at your boyfriend. 
“Y’know, Haruka, you should stop me or else I’m gonna get carried away and keep teasing you even after we get married!” This was a sentence you often say for laughs after you had yet again successfully made Haruka agitated and his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, all the way up to his ears. Granted, the first time he heard it he couldn’t look you in the eye for two whole days at the mention marriage (it’s not that he doesn’t like it, in fact it was because he likes it a little too much that he couldn’t even make eye contact without imagining you in fancy white attire). But now, he barely bats an eye at it now with how often you say it. But today, it’s evident that that particular sentence had poked at someone’s curiosity as you can sense someone staring at you as you banter with your boyfriend. 
“You know, Sakura-kun, I barely see you reacting to... that. You’re really planning to marry them in the future, huh?” Ah, it's Suou again. His soothing voice drips with mischief, the purpose of his question is obviously to tease his heterochromatic eyed peer yet again. Haruka’s features morph into one of confusion, brows furrowed as he turns to face his vice captain. 
“Hah? What are you talking about?” Haruka inquires like suou’s question is the most ridiculous question in the world. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought suou was asking him if he believed pigs could fly, or if the earth was actually a hexagon. 
(Of course, you can’t lie, suou’s question made you nervous despite how lighthearted he said it. Your self consciousness has already prepared itself for a heartbreak trip as you await your boyfriend to continue his response.)
“Why would I date someone I don’t intend on marrying?” 
Ah, now it’s your cheeks that are heating up. 
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“Are you done?” The only answer SUOU HAYATO offers to your inquiry is a focused hum. His hand fumbles with the earring, his earring, as he tries to carefully slide the hook into the small hole on your right earlobe. Though, you have to say, you have nothing particular to complain about as you wait for your boyfriend to put the earring on you. After all, you’re getting the privilege of being in the front seat staring at Suou Hayato’s face as he carefully tries to put the earring on you. Lips pursed and eyes squinted a little, he looks extra handsome when he’s focused, you note. 
“Just need to secure them with the back. And... done!” he heaves out a breath as triumph takes over his features, pulling back slightly to admire his (hardly) hard work. His lips stretch into a smile, satisfied at how the red and yellow of his earring highlights your features more. 
“How does it look?” you feel quite nervous as you wait for his reply, shyly peering at him through your eyelashes. Being so close, you have the advantage of watching closely for any twitch of his features that might indicate satisfaction, dissatisfaction, anything that can indicate what kind of reaction he’s going to emit. 
You twitch slightly at the sensation of his pointer finger and middle finger grazing your chin, touch gentle as he settles them there. You swear you see something flashing in his usually gentle ruby eyes. Something akin to satisfaction, or, even, possessiveness. But you don't comment on it. He moves your head from your side to side as if to examine you thoroughly. (he quietly notes how cute you are for compliantly moving your head.) It’s only when you feel the earring faintly brushing against your right shoulder that you become hyper aware of how empty your left ear feels without an earring weighing it down. You also become hyper aware of the fact that the earring’s pair is still dangling from his left ear, eyes instinctively flitting to it. Your cheeks begin to heat up. Oh, it’s almost as if you’re wearing a couple ite-
He interrupts your thought before you can finish it.
“I quite like it, it’s pretty on you,” his voice breaks your train of thought. His smile is quite literally dripping with mischief, and now you can clearly see it. The tint of greed in his eyes is back as he moves his fingers that were formerly resting on your chin to stroke at the earring on your ear. His composed facade would have fooled you if it weren’t for the words he utters next.
“It gives off the feeling that you’re mine.” 
Oh he likes it, alright. Too much, maybe.
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“Sorry. D’you need a break?” NIREI AKIHIKO’s voice is devoid of any teasing lilt, instead dripping with concern as he gazes at you through his eyelashes, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed with a pretty tint of pink. 
It’s not the words by themselves. It’s the fact that he’s saying those words in this kind of situation. By this kind of situation, you mean with you perched up on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his thighs as he lay seated on a couch beneath you. He had uttered those exact words after what felt like 10 minutes straight of kissing
(it hadn’t even been 5 minutes, but you could barely think with how clouded your mind is). 
His question was thoroughly leaking with worry, caramel orbs boring through you as he awaits your reply. You wanted to say yes, hell, your lungs were begging you to say yes as they heaved desperately yes. You have to give your boyfriend credit, though. Sweet like always, he had noticed he had gone a little too far when he felt your lips part with breathless whines on his, and had asked if you needed a time out. Though, you don’t think he’s aware of how his voice shakes with want, or how his fingers that are resting on your hips squeezed hard like he was trying to ground himself, or how his eyes are swirling with something akin to need.
(or how he barely sounded apologetic when he apologized, and you suspect it’s because his pride soars with the knowledge that he’s the one making you breathless.)
“No,” you’re surprised at how hoarse your voice sounds, though, that is to be expected after you quite literally just had your breath taken away. Your thumb reaches out to swipe at his quivering bottom lip, gleaming with saliva and a little swollen from pressing against yours repeatedly. He leans into your touch, and you gulp away the feeling of your tugging heartstrings. “Keep kissing me, lover boy.” 
And as he lurches forward to clash your lips together again, the last thought that etches on your mind was that he really should put this on his resume: Nirei Akihiko, 16, not good at fighting (yet), hella good at kissing. 
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starlooove · 2 years ago
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I think Richie and Tim would hate eachother, tim and Virgil would have a mutual hero worship thing going, Richie and Duke get on ok- nothing too serious, and Duke Virgil get along like a house on fire.
#I think a team up between these four would be so funny#Richie would make fun of Tim’s name so much#Red Robin?#not even comparing it to the food joint#it’s the lack of originality#Duke would tell Richie that he doesn’t understand symbolism bc he’s a math nerd like a loser#Richie would ask Duke if he rlly wants to argue with him instead of ganging up on tim#‘….and yknow what the symbolisms not even that good tbh’#virgil and Duke get shit done quickly and use all the extra time to hang out#Richie and Tim and get nothing done#benched#terrible#Richie and Duke get it done in time. very average teamup. they’re honestly just so chill with eachother#Y’know the joy of having someone who you care about but not too deeply? if they got hurt you’d be upset but you don’t actively worry after#them? that’s how they feel Abt eachother and they enjoy it that way#virgil and Tim get things done slow bc they keep tryna impress eachother and don’t wanna look lame in front of eachother#losers#we know about Richie and virgie#Tim and Duke are slightly better than Richie and Tim#they can work together but Duke is a literature man at heart and Tim is a man of science#that’s the biggest difference in their detective skills btw#Duke can read ppl and predict what they’re gonna do next or what smth supposedly inconsequential rlly means#tim can survey the environment and notice patterns and mistakes quickly#for example if they were tryna track joker or smth#tim would notice gang activity patterns splashes of paint areas where cops have been tipped off etc.#Duke would go ‘oh duh jokers recreating his nth anniversary with Harley bc he misses her’#they constantly fight over who solves the most cases and Who’s method is better#Duke is in the lead now bc of a freeze case and sentamentalism always wins out there#Tim is tryna catch up with a Dollmaker case but dukes Abt to face off the hatter#that went completely off track
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voonroo · 10 months ago
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NO ONE HAS DONE ADAM WITH A READER 🙏🙏🙏
so like basically you could be an angel or a sinner but you caught the eye of adam and lucifer what would they do 🤔🤔
How Eye-Catching~
⌐‣Adam x Angel Reader + Lucifer x Sinner Reader REQ
Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. This is actually my first time writing for both Adam and Luci😭 LMK WHAT YOU THINK ANON MY INBOX ISNT OPEN FOR ONLY REQUESTS WE CAN CHAT TOOOOOO
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Adam x Angel Reader
This man-angel is the embodiment of sass, I'm convinced he's leading the sassy man apocalypse.
So for you to catch his eye? Let's be honest, he probably thought you would be fun to mess with.
He would skip out on his duties just to annoy you.
If you give him a reaction regarding his remarks, he will continue to make question your life choices.
If you don't give him any reaction whatsoever, he will dramatically declare something along the lines of- “Wow! You're so mean for an angel~ y’know– I'm like, pretty well known here in heaven…”
His trying to annoy you half of the time turns into him boasting about himself.
It takes the outside intervention of Lute, who, after realizing Adam abandoned his responsibilities again, goes out to hunt for him.
And when she finds him trying to rizz you up and harass you— it's pretty damn obvious.
Going based on what reactions you give him, Adam will change up his pick up lines and shit.
It's kinda sickening in a ‘I'm trying to be actually nice to someone’ kind of way.
It takes Lute having a talk with him for Adam to realize how far gone he is.
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Lucifer x Sinner Reader
You're just another damned sinner in this place— *cut to Lucifer with heart eyes*
Yeah, good luck with him. He's so fucking awkward.
It would be the smallest things about you that would catch his eye.
He would probably be taking a stroll down the streets only for you to pass by him and his head just follows.
He won't even talk to you the first time he sees you, now the same can't be said about the second.
The second time he sees you, he takes it as a sign of fate, and he should talk to you. About what? Haha! Funny question. He's stumbling over his words until he remembers he's the king of hell and has a reputation to uphold.
He would either ask or find your socials. for the sake of him, you probably have sinsta
He’d reach out through there. Chat with you daily, whenever he has the time really, and oh! Did he show you his latest duck?
Yup. There's no escaping it. You are now the first person to see his latest ducks through a shaky facetime and if you don't give them a compliment then he cries when you hang up the phone.
He lies to himself at first. Pulling the ‘Oh we are the bestest of friends!’
Well Lucifer the “bestest of friends” doesn't have one of them secretly pining for the other like a lost puppy looking for its owner.
It takes a chat with Charlie for him to realize, and even then he's still denying it.
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Word Count: 464
Inbox is open
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ningvory · 11 months ago
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may i ask what’s your thought about mean girls! ningrina?
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parings: meangirls!ningrina x quiet!fem!reader
synopsis: you never spared a glance at them, always walking away to get to your wherever you needed to go, never stopping to glance at them. so they decided to host a sleepover and fuck you so hard that you look at them!
warnings: strap-ons, vibrator, tit suckin, rimming, double stuffing, pussy eating, face sitting, oral, blackmail, recording
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the famous duo, ningrina were notorious for being the mean girls at school. judging people’s outfits right in their faces and laughing at them. they would step out of karina’s pink ferrari, always wearing expensive heels paired with stylish outfits, sometimes being a little too over the top causing everyone to stare and stepping to the side admiring them, either wanting to be them or fuck them except for you.
you never batted an eye to them, walking right pass them with your headphones in your ears. they wanted to change that so bad, wanting to make you obsessed with them, but they had a reputation to hold up and they would definitely not go outta their way to make you look at them, so they had came up with a plan!
karina was quietly thinking while ningning was laying down on rina’s bed staring at nothing in particular.
“what if we hold a sleepover at my place?” karina asked the younger with a smirk knowing ningning would definitely like that idea.
which is how you led to being invited to their sleep over held at karina’s house. it wasn’t just the three of you though, the two also invited aeri and minjeong, not telling them her and ning’s whole reason of putting this sleepover together because where’s the fun in that!? when they asked ning and rina they would just say they felt like it!
you were the last to arrive at karina’s sleepover and rina nearly squealed when she saw you. you were wearing a fuzzy pink top and matching shorts along with your black glasses that were definitely to big for your face, she thought you were so cute!
you were shocked to see what rina was wearing, she was wearing a low v cut crop top, exposing her tits to you paired with some skimpy shorts. she pulled you into a hug, her tits pressing against your body as you hugged her back because you really didn’t have a choice!
she began to pull you to where everyone else was, you greeted them all. minjeong and aeri were the only ones who actually looked like they ready for a regular sleep over. ningning was wearing the exact same outfit rina had on.
you interacted with aeri and minjeong really the whole night, lowkey avoiding any communication with the other two, but that’s okay! they just observed you and noticing little habits you do like scrunching your nose up so your glasses don’t fall off which they thought was so cute!!
you were very chill and this is the most they heard you talk, making them think about how cute your moans and whines would be when the fuck you! they watched how you would crawl over to minjeong or aeri to show them something, getting a full view of your ass. at this point they couldn’t give a shit about you avoiding them, they just wanted to hear that pretty voice of yours moan out their names! that outta get you to look at them!
it was getting quite late and you all decided to go to your rooms to sleep. aeri and minjeong saying goodnight to you and going to their rooms down the hall as you told them goodnight as well, heading to your own room, the duo following right behind you saying how aeri and minjeong said they needed more pillows, which was a lie. thinking nothing of it, you just nodded, back turned to them thinking they would just get the pillows and leave. until you felt someone push your upper body to the bed, pressing down on your back so you don’t move.
“you were so mean to us y’know? you didn’t even bother to try to talk to us!” ningning said sadly as she began to hump your ass.
“what the- ningning! what are you doing? let me go!” you yelled out as she raised you up, holding your hands behind you so you don’t run away. and let karina get infront of you, fully naked with a smirk on her face, “be a good girl and shut up.” karina told you.
this is how you ended up in this position, your shorts and panties were pushed down and ningning was behind you on her knees, pushing her green 10 inched dildo in and out of your ass and fingering your cunt with her fingers, pulling whiny moans out of you! some of them were muffled by karina, making you suck on her tits until you came on ningning’s fingers with a whiny moan.
the way that they would tag team you so hard!! they would have your legs spread so wide so they can fits both of their heads and they would be lapping up at your cunt! karina using her tongue to tongue fuck you and ningning would be sucking at your clit, pulling high pitched moans out of you because they’ve been at it for what felt like hours! overstimulation was hitting you hard :((
they would even double stuff you with their biggest strap-ons! ningning wearing her 13 inched black one and karina wearing her 12 inched pink one! the would push in and out of you in a fast pase! not letting you catch a break at all! ningning would push in when karina would push out, making you cry out mumbling apologies to them about how you were ignoring them all the time hoping they would stop!! :(
the way the would make you wear one of the strap on’s and pushing a vibrator into you. ningning would be pinning you to the bed, on top of you riding the strap-on and karina would be riding your face making you eat her out because if you didn’t, she was gonna record this and post it everywhere! :(
after this day, they made you their cute plaything! they would make you eat them out while they recorded you and stuffing your cunt with their biggest and thickest dildo’s or a vibrator, and if you don’t do what they say, they’ll post all the videos they’ve got of you getting fucked silly or lapping at their cunny’s :((
1K notes · View notes
scwheeler · 10 months ago
Text
— isn’t it delicate?
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luke castellan x fem!reader
warnings: a little bit of fighting
summary: how did game night turn into your first kiss with the boy you’ve been crushing on at camp?
a/n: it’s kind of all over the place and i didn’t proofread it so i apologize ahead of time!
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this ain't for the best
across the dim-lit cabin eleven, luke could still spot your twinkling eyes that were attracted to the dice rolling in front of you. the euphonious laughter coming from your lips sounded like music to his ears. how your head slowly tilted backwards before catching your balance and opening your mouth once again.
my reputation's never been worse, so
he thanked the “gods” that your cabin agreed to game night as he was almost begging on his knees to your half-siblings that it was a once-in-a-summer experience and they would miss out.
he wasn’t lying, with the stoll twins creating a game tournament behind the little white lie that hermes cabin was just introducing the newbies to fun sleepovers for bonding and friend making, to keep chiron happy and out of their business.
you must like me for me
lounging around in his cabin, trying to take his mind off of the possibility of your cabin, more importantly, you entering the door, luke was making everyone’s beds. as an annoying chore that all the campers avoided, they dared not to interfere or ask him why he was rapidly fluffing pillows and folding blankets.
we can't make
but as his best friend, chris put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around. “you can calm down y’know. it’s only like—six o’clock only.” he pointed to the clock above the treacherously haunting front door. luke sighed and sat down on one of the beds, running his hands through his dark curls.
any promises now, can we, babe?
“but this was the perfect opportunity!” he suddenly exclaimed but quickly lowered his voice once surrounding campers looked at him.
“perfect opportunity to do what exactly? you’ve talked to her like twice—at a max three if you count her saying hi to you this morning.” chris reminded and sat beside the sulking boy. he yet again put a hand on his shoulder, giving a little reassuring pat.
but you can make me a drink
luke faced his best friend to respond but there was a knock at the door that interrupted him. chris thanked whoever it was, or else he would’ve had to witness luke spiral and start his crazy overthinking. a camper near the door went to go reach for the handle but a loud voice stopped him.
“wait! i-i’ll get it!” luke jumped from his seat, giving chris a scare.
dive bar on the east side, where you at?
he rushed to the door as the startled camper now backed away, obviously not wanting to go against the cabin counselor. before turning the handle, he took a deep breath and slightly adjusted his hair. chris mentally cringed at the sight of his best friend being so nervous, yet it was quite funny.
phone lights up my nightstand in the black
mr. cool guy, head counselor, and ‘best swordsman’ at camp was nervous about whether a cabin accepted his proposal of joining hermes’ cabin for a night of monopoly and poker. yes, possibly hilarious even. stifling a laugh, he watched luke open the door with a resounding sense of false confidence.
around ten to twenty campers of all ages were standing in front of him with pillows, blankets, and snacks in hand. for a moment, he was frozen.
come here, you can meet me in the back
not in fright, he’d seen most of these kids wincing on the ground during sword training or fall of the rock wall mid climb, he was the one teaching and catching them.
he was stunned because you weren’t in sight.
“welcome! you guys can chill and relax, meet your friends, and start on games! luke and i will be there in a bit!” someone announced from behind him, alarming just a little. but he easily recognized the voice of his best friend saving his ass.
dark jeans and your nikes, look at you
the excitedly hyper campers burst into the cabin, amping up the noise a couple levels. while they were coming in, luke was stuck in a trance once more but not cause of jitters or worry but because of you and your mere presence.
oh damn, never seen that color blue
as the campers of your cabin were entering the blaring room, you found luke’s eyes. softening your expression, you smiled at the familiar face.
dazed, luke stood straight until chris nudged his side and returned to attending to the campers as promised. leaving the two of you alone and the lack of luke’s acknowledgement of your existence, you decided to clear the awkward air.
just think of the fun things we could do
(cause i like you)
“hey luke.” maintaining your sweet demeanor, you closed the door behind you from letting in more of the cool summer air into the warm cabin.
this ain't for the best
as if someone snapped their fingers, luke blinked and returned to reality. his chest rose while he took another deep breath to calm himself and returned your smile.
“y/n, you came!” he regretted his choice of words and tone the second it came out of his mouth. gritting his teeth, he swore to let you do most of the talking from now on.
my reputation's never been worse, so
“of course i did! i’m known as the ‘monopoly master’ so you know i just had to come to defend my honor.” you emphasized the ‘had’ but deep down you knew it was a simple yes or no question when your cabin asked if you wanted to go. as cabin counselor, you were supposed to always keep an eye on the campers but it was just one night anyway.
you must like me for me (yeah, i want you)
you debated it in your head, did you really want to leave your cozy bed next to your best friends to play some board games with chaotic and overexcited children who were some of the worst sore losers you’ve ever encountered? no.
we can't make
but before you could refuse, your best friend stepped in. in a sing-songy voice, she added a detail that may have swayed your decision making just an inch.
any promises now, can we, babe?
“hermes cabin is hosting it—aka castellan’s cabin.” she smiled at her comment and crossed her eyes with both eyebrows raised. waiting for your answer, you bit your lip and looked to the floor.
okay, so spending your night with campers full of sugar and crying sore losers but luke castellan possibly sparing you a glance and perhaps maybe even a few words? fine, you’d make an appearance.
but you can make me a drink
now here you were, both of your maybes becoming certainly’s. your words were coming out quickly, way faster than you wanted them to. were you rambling? no. yes. no. definitely.
is it cool that i said all that?
why in the heavens did you just say ‘monopoly master’?! why was he not speaking? was he just being friendly by saying hi? of course he was.
is it chill that you're in my head?
you looked away in search of your friends or anyone at this point to make this conservation a little less awkward. but everyone was already sitting and playing games or conversing with each other. you cursed your head for telling you to come, how did you possibly think that he would talk to yo—
a laugh.
he was laughing with the brightest smile ever, his eyes still remaining on yours though. he had one of those contagious laughs, immediately urging you to join him. you couldn’t help yourself but follow, making the both of you look like two crazy idiots laughing at nothing but air.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
“well i think we better see if your honor will be challenged later tonight, miss ‘monopoly master’” he replied and gave a light-hearted grin.
you could’ve sworn that your heart just fluttered and there was something flying in your stomach. catching your breath, you walked towards the laid out board games where luke was right on your tail. his footsteps were only inches from yours, wanting to be close to you as possible.
is it cool that i said all that?
now luke was admiring your laugh once again. someone would’ve had to drag him with all their strength out of that cabin before his eyes were peeled off of you.
unbeknownst to you, he had been staring ever since the game had began. opting out of this round, he joined chris’ team mid game but remained quiet the rest of the time.
is it too soon to do this yet?
you couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t speaking. he was usually peppy and very talkative, so you’ve heard and seen, but never really experienced. luke was very popular in every group, with the kids who saw him as a role model, those who saw him as their fearless counselor, and especially the girls who fawned over him and his every move (you).
'cause i know that it's delicate
so why was the socially favored extrovert sitting still, fiddling his thumbs from time to time. keeping your head in the game, you could only look up whenever it was chris’ turn, using it as an excuse to peek at him who was almost like a shadow.
isn’t it, isn't it, isn't it?
with such little lighting, only his facial features were highlighted from the candle next to luke. you didn’t mind though as his sharp nose, faint scar and rare flash of a smile were still in view.
isn’t it?
suddenly there was a furious roar of thunder outside, enough to get your attention. you felt an elbow nudge you to the right, making you turn to face your best friend next to you. she leaned in, making sure no one except you heard her whisper.
“are you gonna to go or just keep drooling and dreaming about your boy?”
isn’t it, isn't it, isn't it?
only your eyes widened, now staring back at your friend, dumbfounded. she gave you a ‘stop making it obvious and go!’ look and you kept your eyes down, on the monopoly board. grabbing the two dice and rolling for your turn, you moved your piece and unfortunately landed on a space that chris occupied.
isn’t it delicate?
you groaned in both not wanting to lose and the inconvenience that the universe continued to hand you. however, chris was everything but disappointed, two seconds away from jumping up and down in excitement. you had somehow avoided getting caught in someone else’s city for about ten turns in a row, but now you were stuck by the person you were actually avoiding.
or at least his team member’s.
third floor on the west side, me and you
paying in full to a happy chris, you didn’t catch luke’s chuckle at your expense. not in a ‘ha ha we’re going to win’ way but because of how upset you truly looked. he thought it was cute how badly you wanted to strangle chris for costing you six-hundred million and potentially the win.
“seems like your winning streak is coming to an end!” chris implied and put his hands together as if he was thanking you.
handsome, you're a mansion with a view
you narrowed your eyes, just adding fuel to the fire of your competitive nature. for gods sake, you were an ares kid. tonight, it sure didn’t seem like it though. with your stumbling introduction and now your downfall in monopoly!
“what is the meaning of this!”
everyone collectively jumped and stopped what they were doing, no matter if it was playing cards, a pillow fight, shoving candies in their mouths, or jumping on the beds. even without turning, the voice was evident in its owner: mr. d.
do the girls back home touch you like i do?
“i want everyone in their cabins now! ares cabin return and go to bed right this instance. i will check to see if you are all there, with the lights off soon.” he demanded in a stern voice, forcing your cabin to rapidly grab their belongings and run out the door, unable to even say their ‘goodbye’s.’
long night with your hands up in my hair
“hermes cabin, i want you all to clean this mess up in no more than an hour. i will also come to check that this place is tidy as earlier and that you are all in bed, sleeping. all of you will receive punishments tomorrow morning at six am in the mess hall. do not be late.” he continued, but the last of words left campers moaning and muttering in defeat.
echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
you were collecting your campers and pushing them towards the exit, about to do the same yourself until chiron interfered.
“not you, ms. y/l/n.”
slowly turning to look up in confusion, he continued. “as head counselor of ares cabin, you know the responsibility you earn with that title, correct?”
stay here, honey, i don't wanna share
putting your head down, you avoided his eye contact but nodded. you caught one of the last campers and told them to do as they were told and you would be back soon.
“mr. castellan, i want to speak to you as well.” he insisted and luke reluctantly made his way next to you. something he would never refuse to.
this ain't for the best
“i’m very disappointed in the both of you. knowing both of you were the head counselors of your cabins, i thought you would do the best in keeping them in order and avoiding such events but i was clearly mistaken. c’mon guys, there are only like five major camp rules!” he explained, putting his fingers to his temples and crossing his eyes.
my reputation's never been worse, so
briefly giving each other glances, you mouthed ‘we’re so screwed’ to luke who seemed very relaxed compared to your tense figure. sure, you’d gotten in trouble maybe once or twice but first of all, that was trouble by yourself which meant not costing your entire cabin punishment and it was very unintentionally, making mr. d let you off the hook since it was your first offense.
you must like me for me (yeah, i want you)
however, those were the only times you had ever been caught. there were countless times where you had secretly broken the rules by sleeping in your other friends’ cabins, entering the forest by yourself, switching your seat during meals, and staying in your cabin past eleven at night. one that you have broken yet again.
in response to your nervousness, luke smirked.
we can't make
‘why the hell are you smiling?’ you mouthed but he looked at mr. d now, quite mischievously if you may add.
“mr. d, we terribly apologize for the inconvenience and we swear to never do this ever again, this will be the first and only time.” luke spoke with such sincerity in his tone. he only prayed that mr. d could not detect his lie of it being his first to host.
any promises now, can we, babe?
“well thank you luke, but you two are stil—”
“we are so sorry that we thought it would be best if we made it up to you. perhaps that bottle of 1985 château haut-brion in the galley that has been calling your name ever since it arrived?” luke swiftly suggested, eyebrows raised in persuasion.
but you can make me a drink
mr. d stood invested in luke every word, deeply interested in his statement. he took a breath, almost coming to a realization that luke was trying to bribe him but then he put his index finger to his finger, actually thinking about the offer.
is it cool that i said all that?
you were shocked, in the least. luke castellan was not only a troublemaker and a liar but a hell of a good one. in any of other circumstance, you would be hesitant about bringing up such a suggestion to mr. d but if it meant no punishment for you or luke then you were all for it.
is it chill that you're in my head?
“mr. d, when was the last time you’ve had wine? c’mon you and i both know that diet coke won’t cut it for tonight, i mean it’s friday night!” you stepped in and added in on the coercion.
following your voice, mr. d’s head whipped to face you, definitely tipping the scale towards a ‘yes’ now. luke watched proud at you chasing his suggestion, now with full confidence in his chest.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
“are two seriously saying that you guys would go down to the galley…get that merlot…and bring it back here to me…?” he repeated and narrowed his eyes.
for a second, you guys were back into your frozen positions until mr. d responded to himself. “cause if you guys are going to do that, then we can just forget about all this.” he admitted, sort of laughing at the mess around the cabin.
is it cool that i said all that?
after agreeing to your end of the bargain, mr. d had let you both off the hook. by the time everything was settled, the campers had finished cleaning up and everyone was ready for bed. therefore, in order to not disturb them, the two of you took a moment outside before you had to run back to ares cabin.
is it too soon to do this yet?
the cabin luckily had an overhead covering near the front door, creating a safety net for you two from the rain. it was raining heavy, yet it wasn’t cold and the summer air still remained. it always rained on the first week of august, like a set reminder to the campers that time was slipping away.
'cause i know that it's delicate
both of you were already slightly drenched from running to the galley and back but using the trees and several camp buildings on the way, you managed to stay quite dry. you couldn’t say the same for luke though, he shook his wet hair to dry off, in search and need of a towel.
“jesus—you’re acting like a wet dog.” you commented and kept moving your head to dodge the water droplets flicking in your direction. trying to maintain a straight face, you kept a tight-lipped smile but laughs slipped from your lips.
isn’t it, isn't it, isn't it?
“why you don’t like it? you’re getting a free shower right now, i think you should be grateful!”
his sarcasm was abundant and stepped closer to you while matching your laughter. you backed up into the outer cabin wall, as he continued to approach until he was only inches away from your face. even with the rain surrounding the pair, you could hear his breathing after his laughs.
isn’t it?
he stayed with a smile on his face, such admiration found in his eyes while staring at you. automatically there was a tug on the corners of your lips, a genuine smile creeping onto your face. he gently moved a strand of hair out of your face, placing it behind your ear.
isn’t it, isn't it, isn't it?
you stayed put, reaching out to the wall supporting your weight. your heart sped up as he got closer, feeling his body heat on yours. you parted your lips to speak but he beat you to it.
“you’re beautiful.”
isn’t it delicate?
his words melted into you, the only warmth in the middle of the rain. you blinked three times before confirming that this was reality, it wasn’t a dream or a fantasy, it was real.
luke castellan had just called you beautiful. the man you were crushing over since he’d pinned you on the ground in capture the flag last year.
sometimes i wonder, when you sleep
no one had ever dared to come near you, too much in fear how old easily you could defeat them. but luke liked a challenge, thus he went straight for it and ignored the rest of plan. something he would definitely pay for later by a pissed annabeth.
he found you in the middle of the forest, the closest person to guarding your team’s flag. he had battled a couple of rouge kids on the way, effortlessly blocking and knocking them down.
are you ever dreaming of me?
he took pride in his swordsmanship and ability to fight, when he first arrived, all he would do was train and practice, day and night.
all of it paid off though in the end, earning the title of ‘best swordsman at camp’ and being quite the deal when it came to activities like capture the flag. however, campers still came at luke, sword in hand. while you were all alone, the only thing accompanying you being the geckos that slithered in the area.
sometimes when i look into your eyes
as a child of ares, you most definitely had a temper, but otherwise you were known to be one of the more ‘composed’ siblings unlike clarisse who would fight a bug that got in her way. you stood out because of your swordsman skills though, climbing up the ranking until you were right below luke.
on the day of capture the flag, you swore that you would beat him and then steal the title he so proudly wore. but when he did arrive to your position near the flag, he didn’t cower in fear or come straight charging at you.
i pretend you're mine all the damn time
instead he casually walked towards you, sword in hand of course but he didn’t even hold it up. he held it like some sort of an accessory, as if he’d never held one before. almost excited to see a person after hours of waiting though, you instantly jumped at the opportunity, discarding his relaxed posture.
is it cool that i said all that?
gripping your sword, you charged first, something you usually did not do but the greed in achieving the title made you think otherwise. he bested you though, eventually proving himself to you why he was known as the ‘best swordsman at camp.’ he ran off with the flag while you were left with a gash on your right arm.
is it chill that you're in my head?
even though after his team won the game and luke had beat you at your most respected trait, he immediately approached you afterwards. this time, he wasn’t holding a sword or wearing armor but just his camp shirt and cheery demeanor. you could’ve bet that it wasn’t him and a completely different camper.
“hey, i’m really sorry about what happened back there. is your arm okay?” he asked, now with worry in his voice like he was one of your close friends or half-siblings.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
you looked at him weird, confused at the sudden switch-up in his actions. “y-yeah i’m fine.” you responded and looked to join your half-siblings in plotting some devious revenge or something.
but he grabbed your wrist, making sure to not hold the wrong arm. “are you sure? i can walk you to the nurse if you want?” he insisted and pointed to the infirmary that was just down the path.
(yeah, i want you)
“seriously i’m fine.” you continued. it wasn’t like you hated the guy but for someone who just swung a sword at your face and cut your arm, he was surprisingly considerate.
“oh—okay. you were really good out there, i’ve never met anyone else at camp who had their sword so close to my neck.” he joked, attempting to clear the seriously awkward air.
is it cool that i said all that?
you have him a half smile, trying to take his off in lightening the mood. “thanks, i can clearly see why you’re the ‘best swordsman at camp.’” to which he lightly chuckled.
“yeah yeah, but i think you might take that title from me next time!” he mentioned. you couldn’t even tell if he was being sarcastic or not, too distracted with his charming smile.
is it too soon to do this yet?
after that day, luke castellan had been stuck in your mind. you’d see him in the mess hall during meals and passing on campus with his friends, but you never got the courage to talk to him again like you did after capture the flag. maybe it was because you were so annoyed and he just happened to be the first person you ran into! whatever it was, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. no matter what.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
under similar circumstances, luke watched you quickly dismiss his offer of accompanying you to the nurse and walk off to join the ares kids. you looked back once, probably to see if he was watching you or not and he easily got caught, his eyes lingering. once being noticed, the ares kids started laughing but so did you.
is it cool that i said all that? (isn’t it?)
even though they were clearly laughing at him, for once he didn’t mind it. he couldn’t even see the other kids as you were the only one in view. your hair swaying in the wind as your head moved back and forth. your laugh was sweet, putting a smile on his face as it continued.
is it chill that you're in my head? (isn’t it, isn't it?)
afterwards, he found his eyes attracted to you. if you were at the arts and crafts table or in the archery range, he wasn’t focused on the task at hand or his campers asking a million questions.
he would use his head counselor advantages to sneak glances at you across the field from time to time. pretending to look for a ‘missing’ camper or informing his friends that he thought there was a rare bird sighting, his gaze fixated on you.
'cause i know that it's delicate (isn't it delicate?)
your eyes twinkled in the faded moonlight, water drops laying on your eyelashes. luke’s damp hair aided his curls, his fresh scent seeping through the rain. he reached for your waist as you went for his shoulder, closing the gap between you two.
shutting your eyes, you went for it.
your whispered, unsteady breath indicated your nervousness but it was now or never. luke’s arms curled around your waist, pulling you in completely until your lips met. your hands unconsciously wrapped around his neck, embracing the kiss.
(yeah, i want you)
if you both weren’t holding onto each other, your knees may have buckled right then and there. luke’s chest was pounding, almost loud enough to hear but was too invested in how the other tasted. his lips were soft, a delicate touch that matched his behavior. even with luke’s certainly intimidating figure, he was always sweet and made sure to show his caring abilities towards campers. this was the first time that you felt it firsthand.
is it cool that I said all that? (isn’t it?)
he could tell you were hesitant at first, suddenly pulling slightly away in the beginning but becoming familiar with the feeling. a fire was lit in the pit of your stomach, signaling you to continue. luke could feel it too, your body reaching for his.
now breathless, both of you pulled back, still your hands remaining where they were. his eyes were wide as if you had opened a new world to him. you couldn’t help it but swallow, waiting for him to break the silence.
is it too soon to do this yet? (isn’t it, isn't it?)
“i like you. a lot.”
a little startled, you were left speechless but after observing his worried expression, you had to let him know you felt the same.
“i do too—like you a lot. if you couldn’t tell.” you joked and smiled at him.
'cause i know that it's delicate
that was when he realized he needed this girl. he couldn’t bear to see her smile or laugh with someone else. he wouldn’t let it happen, because his heart was yearning for her. and her only.
a similar grin crept up his face, making you understand why you wanted him so much. his alluring smile had gotten you again, whisking you away from your deepened emotions and warming your heart.
isn’t it delicate?
there was only one possible question you could ask now:
“can i kiss you again?”
1K notes · View notes
revasserium · 2 months ago
Text
loving you was red
sylus; 4,627 words; fluff, banter, no "y/n", mild spoilers for sylus's main storyline, subtle but not so subtle flirting, nicknames (kitten, little crow), kinda enemies to lovers
summary: the beginning of everything, all in shades of red
a/n: this was supposed to be fun lil drabble; alas, that's not what it turned out to be, but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. i had fun with the banter in this one u__u
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001. fire and brimstone
The city below is a shatter of broken stars, and from up this high, none of it seems real. You cannot reconcile the sight of all those scattered, pinpoints of light with the lives you know shine behind them. You cannot imagine sitting in your living room, scrolling through your news-feed, waiting for the water to boil for late night ramen.
“Trouble sleeping?”
You congratulate yourself on not wincing, on keeping perfectly still.
Sylus joins you by the window, his arms looped lazily in front of his chest, his dark silk robe falling open to reveal his chest. You keep your eyes resolutely on the technicolored skyline.
“Yeah,” you say, feigning a yawn, “just something about being held captive against my will that just… messes with my circadian rhythm, y’know?”
Sylus chuckles, the sound rumbling through him, low enough to make you shiver.
“Don’t tell a girl like you still needs someone to sing her to sleep.” He’s teasing. You know he is, and yet you can’t keep the heat from clawing up the back of your neck. You scowl, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.
“What gives you that idea?” you ask, still in your flailing attempt to seem calm, seem collected.
"Nothing in particular… just… the twins found a shocking number of plushies in your room so —”
"You had them go through my stuff?” you round on him, glaring, your fingers clenched into fists.
Sylus shrugs, peering at you out the corner of his eye, an amused grin ticking at his mouth.
“Feisty little kitten, aren’t you? Though for what it’s worth — they didn’t find much on how your Evol works.”
You huff, turning back to the floor to ceiling windows, knitting your arms tightly across your chest.
“You heard the shopkeeper — we have to — to…” you trail off, the words caught in the back of your throat like peach pits, hard and large and impossible to stomach. You flush, biting down on your lips.
“To what, hm?” Sylus sounds amused, and it’s this more than anything that spurs you onwards.
You turn to glare at him, “To not hate each other!”
Sylus cocks a single, arched brow.
“So, do you?”
You blink, feeling the ever-present heat prickling into your cheeks as you stare resolutely at the skyline outside. From this distance, Linkon City could be any other city, with it’s towering skyscrapers and twinkling lights.
“Do I what?” you ask, your voice softer as you try to pinpoint the exact location of where you used to live.
“Hate me.”
You turn; in the dimness, all you can see of Sylus is his firebrand eyes and his stone-cut features. The dark curve of his mouth and the sharp jut of his nose. When he turns to meet your gaze, you can barely stifle your gasp — his eyes are so red, so deep and strange.
“Brimstone…” you say, without really thinking about it.
Confusion flickers across his vulturine features.
“Hm?”
You lick your lips, feeling the dryness that had since collected there.
“Brimstone,” you say again, shaking your head and averting your eyes, only for Sylus to catch your chin in his fingers and force you to look back at him, to be swallowed up by his gaze, “it’s… something from… the ancient religions. It’s — back when they believed in gods and monsters, people would use the word brimstone to signify divine wrath…”
His finger slacken on your chin and you let your head fall as he takes half a step away.
He lets out a mirthless laugh, his eyes faraway as he stares out at Linkon City, laid out before his feet.
“I can’t say I know much about gods, but… monsters?”
You swallow, feeling the imprint of his fingers on your skin.
He turns back to look at you, his gaze soft, but no less startling. You feel an unnamable fire frisson up your spine and skitter back down again.
“Monsters are very, very real,” he leans in, closing gap between your body and his, till he has you nearly caged against the cool glass of the penthouse windows. He shifts to brush away a strand of hair, tucking it behind your ear with too-gentle fingers. His next words are whispered, his voice in a register so low it almost sounds like the shadow of sound — he leans in, his lips brushing by your cheek till you can feel the heat of his breath right next to your ear —
“And they look just like you and me.”
002. lipstick
“So at the auction —”
“Just do as I say, and you’ll get what you want.”
You narrow your eyes in the mirror, staring at the reflection of Sylus fastening a pair of ornate silver cufflinks to his impeccably tailored suit.
“Give me one reason to trust you,” you say.
Sylus looks up, a hand still on his cuffs as he meets your gaze in the mirror, unflinching.
“Since when have I ever asked you to trust me?”
Over on the dresser, Mephisto lets out a soft caw that sounds almost mocking. You swirl to glare at him and he has the decency to flap his mechanical wings, shuffling until he’s hidden from view behind Sylus’s shadow.
Sylus laughs, “Alright — settle down, little crow.”
You frown, “Little crow? What happened to kitten?”
Sylus shrugs, “Changed my mind. Figured little crow fits you a bit better. You know — loud, defiant…” he smirks as his voice trails off.
You don’t try to hide your consternation, “Often associated with murder?”
Behind him, Mephisto lets out an indignant ca-caw.
You try to sidestep Sylus, only to find yourself trapped against the mirror by his strong arms. He grins down at you, his canines flashing over his lower lip as he cocks his head.
“Like I said, fits better, no?” he asks.
You stare up at him, trying to make out what he’s thinking behind those firelight eyes of his.
“Let me go — I still need to finish my makeup,” you say, pressing a palm to his chest. You try not to think about the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch, or the heat of his skin, even through all these layers of clothing.
“What else is there?” he asks, his eyes flickering over your features; you shiver, feeling the weight of his gaze as it sweeps over your face like a sudden flare of heat, “you look pretty finished to me.”
You lick your lips, and feel a strange, savage satisfaction at the tick of his eyes down to your mouth, at the way his pupils dilate, at how they track the slow progress of your tongue as it laves across your bottom lip before disappearing back into your mouth.
“Lipstick,” you say, trying not to sound too smug.
Sylus puffs out a laugh before reaching over to the low dressing table and grabbing a tube of lipstick. He uncaps it with a finger, and twists out the color without once breaking your gaze. Vaguely, you feel your stomach tense, and you ponder the unfairness of this one, single act — how could he look so stupidly attractive doing all this when he’s got you trapped here? Like some sort of exotic songbird in a golden cage.
“T-that’s not the color I wanted —” you say, but even to your own ears, you don’t sound convincing.
Sylus’s smile slackens into a lopsided smirk as he tilts your chin up to press the cream of the lipstick to your lips, dragging it delicately across one way, then back the other.
“Press your lips,” he says, his voice softer and gentler than you’ve ever heard it before.
You do, feeling a stifling thump-thump-thump rise up to beat against the back of your throat as his eyes flick down to watch you.
“Mm… as I thought, this color looks great on you,” he says, pulling back to admire his handiwork.
You feel the air rush back into your lungs in a single, searing breath, caught between the urge to brace your arms against your knees and heave, or to drag your hand across your mouth to rid yourself of the lipstick.
You do neither though, because at that moment, the twins call from outside the door —
“Auction’s about to start!” says Luke.
“Hope you’re both ready!” says Kieran.
Sylus straightens, capping the lipstick with a sharp click. You force yourself to calm down, to focus on your breathing — four counts in, seven counts out.
“Are you ready?” Sylus asks, his tone once more whiskey-smooth and just as potent.
You roll back your shoulders and give a quick nod, speaking to yourself just as much as you’re speaking to him —
“Sure. Let’s get this over with.”
003. blood and roses
There’s blood on your hands and blood on the pavement. The world shimmers around you in wildfire and smoke.
“… so… so much blood…”
“You can’t die here —” Sylus’s voice cuts through the memory like a struck chord, resonating inside you till it’s the only thing you can hear, “that life you owe me? It’s not your time to pay it back yet!”
You reach for him, and the moment you feel your palms connect, a bead of heat pulses out from the center of your clasping hands. Your skin is slick with sweat and blood, but his hand beneath you is oddly cool and smooth.
The charred ashes of the beaten Wanderer fall around you like flakes of misbegotten snow; you wave your free hand to keep the pieces from falling into your eyes. A river of light seeps from the Deepspace Tunnel into the center of your chest, glowing brighter and brighter until it coalesces into a familiar gem-like shape.
It comes to a rest between your fingers seconds before it cracks, the light flickering once along the seam before going out.
“It — the Aether Core —!”
“It’s power is yours now. Why’re you so surprised?” Sylus doesn’t let go of your hand, but realizing this, you pull away first, and he makes no move to stop you.
“D-did you know?” you ask, unable to keep the accusation from seeping into your voice.
“Does it make a difference?”
You clamp down hard on your bottom lip, weighing the answers. It isn’t until you reach up to absently card your hand through your hair that you notice — your wrist and his, linked together by a tangible string of red, pulsing power.
You gasp, “W-what —?”
“Tch.”
You wave your wrist, watching as Sylus’s hand follows the movement. Your cheeks darken as he looks away, sighing audibly.
“If you planned this —!” but your words are cut short by a sudden wave of vertigo — the world spins around you and for a second, all you can see is the pinwheeling stars above you, the bright, pulsating edges of the Deepspace Tunnel, and then — everything fades to a sweet, merciful darkness.
You wake up to the smell of roses, and a warm body next to yours. Groaning, you try to shield your eyes from the light filtering through the massive windows.
It takes you a second to orient yourself, and to realize why your wrist seems so heavy as you try to lift a hand and rub at your eyes.
“Looks like you’re up early, though Mephisto still has you beat.”
You blink blearily up at Sylus, sitting next to you in bed, his back propped up on a fortress of pillows, a tablet in one hand, the other still linked to your wrist, half-raised to your face.
You squeak, ducking down to hide beneath the covers, hurriedly wiping at your eyes and your mouth, a mix of horror and embarrassment mounting in your stomach as you realized you must have been drooling in your sleep.
“What did you do to me?!” you demand, pulling back the covers when you’re somewhat certain that you don’t still have drool-marks at the corners of your mouth.
Sylus, for his part, looks only mildly ruffled by your sudden stint back to wakefulness. He takes his time setting down the tablet with his free hand and picking up the steaming mug of black coffee.
“You fainted,” he says, as if that explains everything, “after the resonance worked. Though it makes sense you would — after finally getting the Aether Core and all —”
“No! I mean —” you gesture desperately between you, the pristine linen sheets twisting around you both like waves on a white-sand beach, “how did I — we — get here? Who changed me?” you ask, your cheeks flaring up even as Sylus sips at his coffee, seemingly content to watch you sputter yourself dry.
“Really? After all that, the first question you have is who changed your clothes?” Sylus asks, a distinct tone of mockery clear in his every word.
“Shut up! You know what I mean!”
“Do I? I don’t think I do — you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.” He grins, all splitting lips and too-white teeth. You stare, dumbfounded at his nonchalant expression before huffing and slumping back into your own pile of pillows. You blink, throwing up your free hand to shield yourself from the too-bright light of sunrise, shining straight into your eyes.
Wordlessly, Sylus taps a few buttons on his tablet and the windows darken, filtering out the harsh morning light, leaving the pair of you in a dim, yet luminous shadow.
“I just —” you cut yourself off before you can ask yet another mundane question, and finally, after a few minutes of mulling over what exactly it is you want to ask, you settle on, “what now?”
Sylus shrugs, casting his eyes back down at his tablet, setting his half-drunk cup of coffee on the bedside table.
“Now, we do whatever we want. You have your Aether Core and I have mine,” he lifts up his wrist, shaking yours in the process, “and we try to figure out how to manage this.”
“And if we don’t?” you ask dryly.
Sylus chuckles, “Then, we figure out a way to live with it.”
You roll your eyes involuntarily, “Ugh. Of all the people to be stuck to…” you mutter to yourself. And though you’d said it quiet enough for it to be an afterthought, both of you knew Sylus had been too close not to hear.
He scoffs, pulling you close, tipping you off balance so that you topple face-first into his chest.
“Wake up, little crow,” he says, his tone caught halfway between mocking and maleficence, twisting your face till you’re forced to stare out of the window at the dulled-out skyline below.
“You think you’re so great, being a Hunter and getting rid of Wanderers,” he says, a sharp venom seeping into his words as he speaks, and slowly, he punches a button the tablet that makes the windows un-tint themselves.
You watch as the sunrise bleeds itself dry over Linkon City, the harsh, morning light slicking the entire city in a vapid, orange glow.
“The brighter the light, the darker the shadow — do you really think that just because you and your little Hunter friends are out there killing Wanderers and saving the world, that there isn’t the a need for people like us?” Sylus pushes you away from him. It’s not a harsh move, but it’s not exactly gentle either.
And again, you can’t help feeling the imprint of his fingers, almost as if burned into your skin as your rub at your jaw.
It’s when you turn to glare at him that you meet his gaze and find him staring at you with a look that’s much more haunting than ghost. Much more longing than loathe.
“Well… you’re one of us now. And newsflash, little crow — sometimes, the world just doesn’t want to be saved.”
You let his words sit with you, like river stones, hard and smooth, feeling them sink slowly down the length of your throat to settle somewhere in the wide basin on your stomach. You avert your eyes, and it’s only then that you notice the bouquet of flowers sitting on your bedside table.
“What are the roses for?” you ask, reaching out your free hand to run a thumb along a single, velvet petal. It comes off at your touch, and you watch it fall against the unmarred white marble of the table top.
“A little present,” Sylus says, waving you away, “a thank you - for a job well done last night.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your tone, “it’s not like I had much of a choice.”
“You did,” Sylus says, “you could’ve killed me. And you didn’t.
“I could still kill you now,” you say, though there’s no conviction in your voice at all. Instead, you reach out to tug at another dark red petal. It comes off just as easily as the one before.
“You could. But you haven’t. And don’t you think that warrants a reward?”
004. dawn
“I’ve never hated you, you know.”
You frown, squinting against the early-morning light.
It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself waking up next to him, and you think it won’t be the last. You flip onto your side to face him, feeling a familiar rush of heat crest into your chest as you come nearly nose to nose with him.
Sylus barely even flinches, cocking an eyebrow before reaching out to tug a stray piece of hair from your face.
“What?” you ask, even though you know full well what he’d said. So maybe, you just wanted to hear it again — is that so terrible?
“Hn,” Sylus grins, rolling onto his back to cast his eyes up at the ceiling, “I said you’re getting drool on my pillows.”
You squeak, fumbling to wipe at your face before the realization hits, and you jerk up, pouting.
“That’s not what you said!”
“Then you did hear,” Sylus casts you an amused glance.
You lick your lips, the soft cotton of sleep still muffling the world such that everything except him feels strangely out of focus.
“I — I heard… a word here and there —”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?”
You scowl, whipping around to pin him with a stare, “Where I come from, that’s not a bad thing.”
Sylus’s eyes tick towards you, his expression amused as he appraises you, and not for the first time, you feel yourself go warm beneath the solar-storm fixation of his attention. Like this, you can feel the air between you blistering, as oil to a lit fuse, as his eyes travel over the planes of your face, the curve of your shoulder, the thin silk strap that had since slipped to cling to your upper arm.
“No? I suppose not,” he concedes, pushing himself up, reaching over the bedside table to push at a small button on the far side. Somewhere else in the penthouse, you can hear an alarm bell ring.
“What’s that?” you ask, pointing.
“Coffee,” he answers, and you fall silent again, turning your face away from him to look back at the heartbreak city, carved in shadows against dawn’s liquid light. It’d only been — what — a week? A bit more? And yet you can’t bring yourself to see the city the same.
Nothing has changed — not really.
But everything’s different, you think, as the door on the far side of the bedroom cracks open and Luke peers in with a smug smile and two steaming cups of coffee.
“Black for the boss, and milk and sugar and all the trimmings for the little crow.”
Sylus tsks, a frown digging itself into the space between his eyebrows, his eyes flashing as he takes the two cups. Luke, to his credit, jerks back, dancing out of Sylus’s reach.
“Ah — sorry, sorry — didn’t know that was a special nickname,” he says, making a show of stooping to apologize, though neither of you miss the jesting crow beneath his voice.
“Out.” Sylus orders, and Luke doesn’t waste time scurrying from the room, cackling beneath his breath like a gleeful child.
You take your cup from his hand and give it a dainty sip, adjusting yourself against the pile of pillows.
“What? I thought that nickname was your idea.”
“It is,” Sylus says, relaxing back. The tether between your wrists sits slack and nearly invisible on the sheets between you. He stares down at the dark liquid surface of his own cup before turning to smirk at you, “doesn’t mean it was meant to be shared.”
You clamp down on another wash of heat, threatening your cheeks as you sink a bit deeper into the luxurious bedding. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to sleep on sheets this nice again once you figure out how to break the tether between you and you’re finally allowed to go home.
“Why say it where other people can hear if you didn’t want them to pick it up?” you shoot back, determined to get the last say, at least in this.
Sylus sets down his cup, cocking his head to look at you, “It’s not a joke if there’s no one around to hear the punchline.”
You level him with a glare, “Is that all I am to you? A joke?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem if I’m just your captor, right?”
You open your mouth to retort, only to find your voice stolen by the sight of him, kissed gold by the rising sun. You’ve never been one to obsess over beauty but even you can’t pretend to be unaffected.
Like this, he looks hewn from marble, a statue at the loving hands of a besotted sculptor — a lazy god rendered into silk and stone. He is smooth skin and burning eyes and a jawline that might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. There’s a base carnality in the way he looks at you (and looks at you) — his gaze so penetrating that somehow, you don’t think you’ve ever been seen this way before.
There’s a damnable elegance to him, even as his lips twitch up into a tell-tale smirk.
“What?” he asks, leaning forward just an inch, but the distance feels exaggerated by your closeness, such that suddenly, you’ve got to lean back to look into his face. He licks his own lips languorously, and you feel your chest tighten on a torque, caught in the turn of his smile.
“Kitten got your tongue?” he asks.
You shake yourself, shifting back slightly, “You’re mixing your metaphors,” you say, trying to keep your eyes from straying back to his face.
“They’re my metaphors to do with as I wish. So. Aren’t you going to answer?”
“Answer what?”
“What you think you heard me say, right before you woke up.”
You cup your palms around your coffee mug, feeling its heat seep steadily into your skin. There’s a familiar tingle at the tips of your ears and you know you’re already blushing.
Stupid coffee, you think, trying hard to school your expression into a frown, stupid Sylus, you add to yourself, taking a long sip and biting back your sigh of relief at the mundane magic of caffeine and sugar.
“Does it matter what I think?” you sidestep the question.
Sylus doesn’t miss a beat, “If it didn’t, would I have asked?”
The torniquet in your chest twists tight enough to make your stomach flip as well. You chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your answer.
“I never hated you…” you say, finally, your voice barely more than a whisper or a breath. And even as the words fall from you like so many rose petals, you’re unsure if you’re repeating his words back at him or making an admission of your own.
Sylus only shifts back to his side of the bed, leaning against his pile of pillows. Your wrists sit atop the sheets, inches apart, and yet you can’t deny the dull pull of gravity between you, as if something beneath your skin is itching to be close to his.
You turn to face him, twisting your fingers in your lap.
The quiet softens around you both, settling until you let out another long breath.
“So…” you drag out the word as Sylus glances up at you, expectant. His eyes flicker with the fire of the rising dawn behind you, and in them, you can see the shadow of yourself, painted in darkness against the light.
“What’s for breakfast?” you ask.
Sylus chuckles, his head listing sideways as he studies you.
“Whatever you’d like.”
“Hm…” you make a show of swinging your legs out of the bed, shivering slightly as your feet come into contact with the cool marble floors, “are there pancakes?”
Sylus stretches his arms over his head, letting out a soft groan that evokes something inside you that you’d rather not examine at the moment. You keep yourself turned resolutely away from him even as you hear the distinct sounds of him getting out of bed as well.
“No, but there can be — you only need ask.”
“Fine, I want pancakes,” you say, finally turning around, only to find him standing right behind you, his silk robe discarded on the floor by the bed, his chest broad and entirely bare. Your breath catches in your throat as he cocks an eyebrow.
“Is that asking?”
You crinkle your nose, forcing air back into your lungs.
“Okay, okay — can we have pancakes?”
Amusement dances behind his eyes as he bends over you, propping a hand casually on the dresser behind you to limit your movements.
“And the magic word?”
You narrow your eyes, “Nevermind!”
“Mm — wrong. Two more tries.”
You try to duck under his arm but he catches you easily, spinning you back around to face him, nearly sweeping Mephisto from his perch on the dresser. The crow lets out an offended caw and flaps off towards the far end of the room, coming to a disgruntled rest on the back of a satin loveseat.
“Let me go!”
“Wrong again — last chance.”
You sink your nails into the skin of his forearm, trying not to think of the taut muscles corded there. He doesn’t even wince, though for a second, the tether between your wrists flares up like a fanned flame.
“Fine! Please!”
Sylus straightens with a satisfied smirk, turning around to make for the bedroom door. Your chest is heaving, and the sudden space between you make your head spin. You blink at his retreating form, and it isn’t till he reaches the door that he turns to glance at you over his shoulder.
“Hope you like raspberry jam.”
You level your breathing and hurry to catch up, clutching your own sleeping robe tighter around your chest as you fall into step next to him.
“I thought you didn’t like sweet things.”
He opens the door and steps aside for you to walk through first.
“I never said it was for me.”
---
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polaroidpascal · 8 months ago
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paradise city || joel miller
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AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE
pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader
summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.
tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc
fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol
(picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)
WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)
a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3
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You and your friends have had a week. 
Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.
Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them. 
“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”
The complaining did help them destress a bit.
You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers. 
You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.
“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.
You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.
“No. not yet,” you tell her.
“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.
“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.
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The bar is crowded. 
You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show. 
Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.
The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music. 
The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest. 
Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion. 
The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.
But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well. 
He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…
Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place
I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white
But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth
…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?
And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—
“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.
You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?
You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.
He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.
He put on a show. All just for you.
Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.
The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.
You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you
The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.
I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself
He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.
I wanna fuck you like an animal  // I wanna feel you from the inside  // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God
He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.
You have to have this man.
Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.
When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.
“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.
“So…?”
“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.
You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”
“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.
“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”
“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”
You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.
Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”
As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.
You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.
“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”
“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.
“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.
“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.
“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.
You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”
“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.
Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.
You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.
He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”
“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”
“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”
You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”
“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”
You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.
“How so?”
“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”
His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”
“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”
He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.
You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”
You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.
“No, we took an Uber.”
“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”
Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…
You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.
“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.
A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.
Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.
He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.
“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”
You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.
The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.
You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”
He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.
You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you. 
He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.
Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.
He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.
His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”
Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.
His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.
His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there. 
“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”
You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.  
You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.
You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.
He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.
His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right. 
“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.
He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.
Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down. 
His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly. 
“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.
You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink. 
“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.
He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.
Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.
When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.
When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.
Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”
“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”
A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”
Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”
Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”
His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.
You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”
He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”
He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side. 
He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart. 
You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.
Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.
He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”
You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.
You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.
“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself. 
But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth. 
Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”
You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”
“You sure, darlin’?”
“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod. 
He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.
His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.
He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”
You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.
“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.
His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.
You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—
He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.
You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.
“Get back on the bed,” he demands.
So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp. 
He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”
You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.
He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”
You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.
“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.
You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.
You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.
“What d’ya mean?”
“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”
He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.
You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.
“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.
You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”
He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed. 
“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.
He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.
“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”
The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.
You need to find a way to keep this man.
The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.
You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek. 
He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”
“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.
He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”
You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.
“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.
“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat. 
“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust. 
“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.
“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it. 
“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you. 
You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.
You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…
“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.
“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.
“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”
“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.
You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.
My good girl…
That one little word finally hits you after a minute. 
My.
His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.
“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.
“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.
“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.
He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.
Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.
When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.
You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”
You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.
“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.
“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.
“Want you to come for me… Please…”
“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes. 
“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.
“Where, baby? Want it inside?”
“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.
“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”
You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.
“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.
Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.
“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”
Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.
Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.
Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.
“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.
You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”
“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”
You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”
“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”
“But I made a mess—”
“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”
You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.
He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.
“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”
“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.
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When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.
He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.
Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...
You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:
You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.
All yours.
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a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!
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sycamoregirlsworld · 9 months ago
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Stockholm Syndrome- L. Castellan
part two!!!
down bad! luke x fem! reader
loser luke agenda
“baby look what you’ve done to me, baby you’ve got me tied down!” - one direction
lowkey want to make a pt. 2 idk
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Why was he acting like this? Luke had never felt so jealous in his life. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling he had often. Sure, he was always slightly jealous of the kids with actual parents, but this was a different type of jealousy. It was the type of jealousy that made him want to scream into his pillow like a little kid.
And that was so weird for him! He was the counselor of the Hermes cabin. He had a scar on his face from fighting a dragon! Luke Castellan was cool, and he did not let things like girls get under his skin.
“You look like a creep.” Chris scoffed, shaking Luke out of his thoughts.
“I’m not even staring at her.” Luke frowned at his friend as he picked up his sword, deciding that maybe he should actually practice.
He was staring at her, though. But how could he not!? His best friend had impeccable fighting form, he always admired that.
That was why he was staring at (Y/n), nothing else. And he was not glaring at the boy she was sparring with and thinking about running his sword through him. Not at all.
“Y’know, I didn’t even mention her.” Chris raised his brows as he also picked up his sword. “You’ve gotta tell her how you feel, before someone else sweeps her up.”
“I dont love her, Chris.” Luke frowned as he swiped his sword at his friend. “At least not like that.”
But he couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably at Chris’s words. Someone else sweeping up (Y/n)? His (Y/n)? It had always been him and her. (Y/n) and Luke.
He felt gross being so possessive over her, but he didn’t have much in life.
Imagining (Y/n) being gone was….
That thought got him worked up, and he could feel his nonchalant exterior breaking.
He tried not to think about it, but when it came to (Y/n) he was very chalant.
Is that even a word? Doesn’t matter… Luke just knows he’s the opposite of nonchalant when it comes to her.
He tried to ignore it, he really did! She had been his bestfriend since he had gotten to camp, he didn’t want to ruin anything between them.
And sure, maybe it felt like a hellhound was ripping out his insides everytime another boy flirted with her. And yes, he did frequently dream about dropping to his knees in front of her and—
‘Stop it!’ Luke scolded himself as he blocked Chris’s attack. ‘Stop thinking of her like that..’
He couldn’t focus on the fight. The swinging and blocking of his sword was sloppy compared to his usual sharp technique. He just couldn’t pull his eyes away from (Y/n).
His jaw clenched as he watched her sword knock against the boy whose name he couldn’t even remember. Why was she even sparring with this loser? She easily had the upper hand, this boy wasn’t even good!
(Y/n) always said she liked sparring with Luke because of the challenge, their sparring was always playful and fun— but it was hard.
Their skills were equally matched, he was so much better then this random boy—
Luke’s thoughts were broken away as Chris disarmed Luke, backbiter falling to the ground with a thud.
Luke’s thoughts stilled for a moment as he stared at the ground with his jaw agape. How did he—Luke Castellan—get disarmed by Chris Rodriguez?
“She’s got you whipped.” Chris laughed as he looked over at (Y/n).
Right. That’s how’s he got beat.
“Whatever man.” Luke scoffed as he swiped her sword up and stormed away.
The quiet crackling of the fire and the loud singing from the Apollo cabin didn’t to much to lift (Y/n)’s mood. The entire day Luke had been ignoring her, and it was really pissing her off.
He was fine this morning! He had even given her his last bit of eggs during breakfast, but after that he hadn’t talked to her.
Was it because she had chosen Ben as her sparring partner instead of Luke? She guessed that could be the problem, but she didn’t know why he’d be mad!
And Ben had asked her to be his sparring partner, she would’ve felt bad if she said no.
Maybe she had also obliged his request to get her mind off of Luke.
Gods, being in love with your best friend was totally lame! She knew Aphrodite always had a plan, but if this was the Goddess’s idea of a good trope she needed to rethink her tastes.
Reading friends to lovers in a book? Totally fine— amazing even!
Experiencing it in real life? A cruel and unusual punishment.
But she couldn’t help falling for Luke, he was just so kind and funny and strong and he was such a pretty boy.
Like, screw Helen of Troy, try Luke of Connecticut!
But having those thoughts about your best friend was so uncomfortable, especially when you’re supposed to be sparring with him but instead you just want to pin him down and kiss him.
And this is where Ben enters. Ben was blonde, short, and skinny. He was wasn’t very smart nor was he a good fighter. The complete opposite of Luke!
(Y/n) thought that would’ve been good. If he was the complete opposite of Luke, then it would be impossible for her to think about the boy, right?
Wrong!
Turns out, it just made her pick apart everything that made him different from Luke.
Currently, she was sitting next to the blonde boy. It was rather uncomfortable as she could feel his body pressed too close to hers and she could see the seductive look he was sending her from the corner of her eyes.
Yuck.
She enjoyed his attention, sure. But it wasn’t his that she wanted.
It made her feel bad, to nitpick someone like this all because she was hopelessly down bad for her best friend.
But she also couldn’t really find it in her to care. She felt dirty, gross, and disloyal for spending her time with Ben.
It’s not like Luke and her were a thing, but she wasn’t the type to divide her adoration. If she liked someone, it would always be them.
And it had been Luke for awhile.
But she was tired of it now. Selfishly, she wanted affection. She wanted to be adored! And yeah, Luke showed her affection, but it was a ‘best friend’ type of affection.
So here she was, debating on if she should just leave the campfire early.
“What’re you thinking about?” Ben asked as he nudged his shoulder against hers.
‘Luke.’ Her mind immediately answered.
But she couldn’t say that to him, so instead she just answered, “Nothing.”
She could hear Ben hum in response, but she still wasn’t looking at him.
Instead, she was watching Luke from across the fire. The way the flames danced off his skin made him look well— hot!
She smiled shyly as she made eye contact with him and waved, to her luck he actually waved back. He looked like he was about to open his mouth to say something when she felt Ben’s hand grip her chin and turn her head towards him.
“You’re so beautiful..” He mumbled as he tilted her head up.
Her jaw clenched and her body went rigid. This was gross. His hands were smooth and sweaty…
Ben shifted even closer to her, his bony legs pressing up against hers.
“I used to think you and Castellan had something going on, y’know?” He smirked and got closer, “But I guess not.”
(Y/n) furrowed her brows at his words. Why was he bringing up another guy when he looked like he was about to kiss her? She found it weird and territorial, not to mention he was bringing up someone she’d rather be kissing…
(Y/n) could feel her stomach twist up in a gross anticipation, she could just tell by the way he was looking at her they he was about to lean in.
And she really didn’t want his lips on hers.
She pursed her lips as he closed his eyes, his sweaty hands snaking from her chin to her hair as he began to lean closer.
He was so close, she could feel his breath in her face and then—
“Hey.” A deep voice spoke up from next to them.
(Y/n) quickly pulled away and sighed in relief when she spotted Luke standing over them, his dark glare settled onto Ben.
The blonde haired boy looked pissed as he stared up at Luke. “Hey dude!” He smiled tensely. “What’re you uh- what are you doing?”
Ben was obviously trying to look and sound intimidating as he puffed out his chest and made his voice deeper. But as the Luke Castellan stood over them, his brown curls falling slightly in his eyes, Ben just looked so meek.
“I need to talk to my girl.” Luke shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal and pulled (Y/n) up.
She tried to ignore the fact that he called her his girl. He didn’t mean it, he just knew she was uncomfortable and was trying to get her away from Ben.
But she couldn’t ignore the way she felt when he said it. His words, mixed with the way he held her hand tightly, made her feel like she was about to throw up an entire colony of bees.
She smiled apologetically at Ben as she allowed Luke to pull her away, even though she couldn’t give two fucks.
“Where are we going?” (Y/n) asked curiously as she glanced around at their surroundings. The two had been walking for awhile, (Y/n) trailing after Luke like a lost puppy.
“You’ll see.” Luke’s words were short as he continued to drag her around.
The girl puffed out her cheeks and looked away. He was still mad at her, wasn’t he? She didn’t even know why he’d be mad, and that now was making her mad!
She tugged on his arm and stopped walking.
“Why are you so mad at me?” She frowned.
Luke turned around and raised his brow. “Mad at you?” He scoffed. “You think I’m mad at you?”
(Y/n) puffed out her cheeks as she held her arms up in an exasperated motion. Was he being serious?
“Well I dunno Luke!” Her voice came out high pitched as she jutted her hip out. “After sword practice tonight you ignore me when I come up to you, then you ignore me during arts and crafts, and you also ignored me during dinner!”
During her blow up, (Y/n) had gotten closer to Luke, staring up with him with narrowed eyes as she shoved her finger into his chest.
“I haven’t been ignoring you.” Luke scoffed as he caught her wrist. “I’ve just been—”
“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” The girl frowned as she ripped her wrist away from his grasp. “You talked to me during breakfast but you’ve ignored me the rest of the day Luke, what did I do?”
The brown haired boy went silent at her words, a pang of guilt hitting his chest as he heard the distress in her voice.
“You didn’t do anything…” Luke sighed as he tugged on his camp necklace.
That was always his tell, whenever he was nervous he’d tug on it.
“Then why am I the victim of your anger?” (Y/n) groaned as she ran a hand through her hair. “You know I hate it when you do that—”
“I was jealous!” Luke blurted out. After a beat of silence, Luke processed what he had confessed and slapped his hand over his mouth.
“You…. were jealous?” (Y/n) tilted her head as she looked up at him.
Luke was acting strange… sure, the pair had many conversations about his jealousy towards children’s whose godly parents actually cared, but this was different.
This was… about her?
“Fuck it…” Luke groaned as he rubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah. I was jealous. You sparred with that blonde kid today and then Chris said something that really got under my skin.”
“What do you mean..?” (Y/n) took a step closer to him, laying a hand on his bicep in concern.
“This is so unlike me— y’know I never let things like this get under my skin, but when it comes to you?” Luke breathed out as he hesitatingly cupped her face with his hands. “You get me so worked up.”
“When I’m with you, all I want to do is kiss you, and worship the ground you walk on, and do all this other shit to you because I just— I love you!” Luke continued with his rant, not giving (Y/n) any time to reply. “And it takes all my self restraint and then some to not do it!”
“Y-you love me?” (Y/n) stammers as she grabbed the hand that Luke was holding her face with.
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She needed someone to pinch her, because this couldn’t be real!
Luke Castellan—her Luke Castellan—who she never thought she had a chance with, wanted her too??
“So, so, much.” Luke chewed on his bottom lip as he stared down at her. “And when I saw that loser trying to kiss you tonight— I wanted to get violent!”
This elicited a small giggle out of (Y/n). It was gross when Ben was territorial, but it felt right when Luke was.
With Ben it seemed like he was trying to prove he was the man. But Luke was the man. He was the man of her dreams, to be more exact.
“Well— I love you too..” (Y/n) smiled shyly as she looked down at her feet. Her cheeks were flushed and the feeling of Luke’s rough hand against her cheek didn’t help the butterflies that swirled around her stomach.
Luke nudged her chin up and smiled as he met her eyes. (Y/n) always thought he looked good, but something about seeing him after he had confessed his love to her just made him look even better.
“Hey, promise me something?” He requested as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Only ever be my sparring partner?”
“Is this your lame way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” Her nose scrunched up in amusement, but she couldn’t stop the fuzzy feeling that surrounded her.
Luke glanced away with flushed cheeks. “Just say yes or no.” He grumbled.
(Y/n)’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she tugged Luke down to her level, their noses brushing as she smiled.
“Yes, of course I will.”
Luke surged forward and pressed his lips against hers in a frenzy, (Y/n) kissing back just as feverishly.
Finally, after years of stupid yearning they were getting to feel each others lips.
(Y/n) quickly had her hands tangled through Luke’s hair, needing something to support herself as he continued his merciless attack against her lips.
Luke gripped her hips tightly with a quiet moan, his fingers sinking into the stiff denim of her shorts as he attempted to pull her closer.
(Y/n) pulled away with flushed cheeks, stumbling slightly as she was tugged forward.
“Everyone should still be at the campfire…” She trailed off as she looked away shyly, hoping Luke would catch her drift.
Luke smirked in response and pulled her into another chaste kiss.
“I like the way you think.”
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