#Slowly catching everyone over there up :D

[the-dragon-hearted]

Heyyyy, so I wrote a whole 4000 words for As Things Should Be only to decide I didn't like it from Giyu and Inosuke's perspectives so catch me rewriting it all. If anyone's wondering, that do be why this next chapter is taking such a GODDAMN LONG TIME -

Ma bad.

[hyewka]

warnings. sub!tyun, noona!reader, desperate shit, degrading, use of whore/slut, handjob

flirt freshman!taehyun who, even if he looks polite and at times would even be described as cute, is definitely a heartbreaker. stringing along, fucking, then ghosting.

you see right through his nice guy act when he subtly hits on you, flashing you his white pearls, blinding smile that show off his dimpled cheeks and the way his eyes form into crescents, his simple charms almost, almost having an effect on you. but you know better, you’ve already passed this chapter of your life, getting yourself fucked over by cute assholes. so you reject any and all advances that he makes on you, even as so far as to completely ignore him whenever he addresses you in a group setting.

you wanted to protect yourself, because again, you knew better. but what you dont realize is how often your blatant rejections have been either straight up cruelly humiliating or just plain harsh to the younger boy. not until you’re stuck with taehyun as you awkwardly wait in the car for your friends.

“why dont you like me?” he starts, quiet as he looks out the window. you turn to look at him, a little astonished that he decided to confront you. then you quickly recollect yourself, clearing your throat.

“who told you that?”

he scoffs, a sneer retching his expression. “you’re kidding aren’t you? i don’t think i know anybody more repulsed with me than you. everyone can see it. you almost jumped out of the car when they told you i was going to sit in the back tonight.”

it’s like hes been keeping all of his thoughts behind a lock with how fast everything spilled out of his mouth and you take in a breath. “okay now that’s an exaggeration.”

“not really.”

then it falls silent again, hearing the distant horns of cars and you awkwardly shift. he’s right, its not.

then suddenly, his eyes shift from the window to you, and the eye contact catches you off guard, you can make out the slight furrow of his brows and the small pout that rests on his lips—you’ve never seen him look like that. you avert your gaze almost immediately.

but he’s still staring. and it has you nervously tapping your finger on your lap.

“i like you, noona.”

your eyes widen a little. not because of the confession, you knew it was coming eventually. something about this variation of gentleness with his voice that you don’t think you’ve quite heard…ever coming from a man has your heart beat just a little faster. noona? its nothing new coming from taehyun, but your hands still slight dig into the fabric of your skirt. “if that wasn’t already obvious enough.” he says bitterly with a non humored laugh.

you spend the entire night, staring at your blank empty google doc, wallowing in all thoughts related to taehyun. it kind of pisses you off that he’s managed to chip a little away from your wall, you usually disperse any thought that comes up in your head that has to do with him. but now you choose to give yourself a leeway, just a little to think over whether he was being genuine, and whatever happened in the car was taehyun serving his heart on the platter to be so…vulnerable, or if it was just the last trick up his sleeve to lure you in like a toy he can’t have.

but then you remember the little features—the way his brows slightly turned up, the way his bottom lip instinctively stuck out, just a tiny bit—the way his eyes twinkled, just somewhat, as cliché as it is to say, it felt genuine, real.

when taehyun sends you a text that night, with a string of other unread messages from weeks or days ago before it—you come to the conclusion that he likes you, really likes you.

sorry, ignore what i said today

i don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me any more than you do

your heart swells a little, simultaneously feeling the guilt conscience slowly creeping up on you. maybe you really did misread him this entire time.

so imagine your surprise when the next time you see taehyun, a week later, it’s at a frat party, looking down at a girl clinging onto his arms with those same twinkling eyes, smile, dimples, gentle look—eventually laughing then biting down on his lips as he looks away, the red on tips of his ears making you fume more than you’d admit. you don’t know what it was, what exactly made you insane enough to stomp over to him in long strides, wobbly pushing through the drunks, seeing red as you grab taehyun by the arm when he’s of reach—the surprised look on his face only lasting for a second before you furiously turn around, dragging him away from the confused girl that he was getting way too flirty with.

he could’ve easily shaken off your grip, it was weak, but he followed, he let you take him, only when you push him in a non occupied room and lock the door does he finally say something.

“hey, what the fuck was that—”

then you go for it. throwing all logical justifications and reasoning, you pull him into you harshly by the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you don’t know what you expected, up to now it felt like you’ve been on airplane mode, but you know it wasn’t what taehyun returns. even if youre the one who came onto him first, he kisses back even more passionately, leaning into you, so quick to be receptive, hands going up to your cheeks as he lets you walk him hard into the door, latching onto your lips as if its a taste of a drug that has him hooked right from the first dose.

he’s so…desperate, it scares you, and turns you on at the same time. every time you try to pull away a little he reels you back almost immediately following your lips, the kiss becoming open mouthed as he breathes in and gets more and more messy, sloppy—he’s so sloppy, it’s the last thing you expected from him.

you finally manage to pull away, both of you catching your breath, with his lips glistening and red, mouth agape, chest heaving, up and down as he stares stunned.

“wha—um, so—fuck, sorry, no wait—” hes stumbling over his words. again, something taehyun never does. whenever hes spoken to you, it always felt so calculated, like every word hes thought over, because it felt so perfect. hes always collected.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you, with those god damn adorable brown eyes.

“kindly, shut the fuck up.”

his brows twitch a little, but he’s still silent.

your eyes search for something in his, you don’t know what, but it feels like you’ve gotten a green light, sighing. “i wanna fuck you.”

“shit.” he marvels, feeling his breath against your palm, his eyes still just as wide. you don’t know what exactly he’s thinking but if the dick already poking against your thigh was any indication, it was that he wanted it. really bad.

you slip your hand off his lips, then you whisper, fixated on how plump they are, “open your mouth.”

he blinks confused, hesitant until you take it upon yourself to rub your thigh against the tent in his pants, having him almost immediately buckle as he lets out a sinful groan. you should know he’s probably not into what you’re into, so you ease into it, testing the waters as you press yourself flush against him, rubbing your leg up and down against his clothed dick. “feel good?”

“y-yeah, shit, noona, please touch me.”

“i am touching you,” you swipe your hand over his bottom lip, fuck, they really are pretty. and so kissable. you’re shocked you haven’t kissed them sooner.

“no, i want your hand.”

you scoff, he’s so confident with what he wants, and so demanding. bratty. he’s probably so used to dominating. “this isn’t enough? me getting off your crusty dick isn’t enough for you? you’re feeling good, aren’t you?”

you press harder and with no consent of his own, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears running red again. your thumb slips into his mouth, easing into it, slowly, before you fully press on his tongue as the friction of your knees against his cock gets more and more frantic and torturous. “you tell me you like me then decide i’m not worth the headache, a week later you run off to another innocent girl you’ll try to break the heart of after getting your fill. someone needs to keep you in check for becoming such an asshole, no? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding him another finger in his mouth so he can’t retort like you know the smartass in him would do.

he sucks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue licking eagerly…fuck, how badly did you misread him?

but you can tell with the way his eyes involuntarily water, and the way he shakes his vehemently, he still has the audacity to deny everything.

you scoff, slipping them out of his mouth, string of his saliva coating your fingers and shoving that hand down his pants, promplty grabbing his dick, marveling at the soft, wet feel. he already spilled so much pre-cum—slut. he likes this.

“you don’t like me, you have no right to be jea—hahhh..fuck, you can’t be jealous, you c-can’t. shit, faster, faster please noona, noona…” he whines, delirious as he gets lost at the feeling of your hand, bucking his hips, clearly getting frustrated with how irritatingly slow you’re tugging at his dick.

“i don’t. i don’t like you. i don’t like slutty men who’re bad.”

he whimpers, and fuck does that noise have you pooling your underwear.

“how have i been bad? how? i’m always good to you, i always—”

you twist your hand a little and his head immedietely falls back against the door, mouth hung open as he lets out pathetic, needy pants, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“like it? is it how you imagined it’d feel to have my hands wrapped around your cock?” you press, kissing down his jawline, hand letting out wet sounds as you jerk him off with more speed

“yes, yes, so much better noona, so much—” he chokes on his own words when you suck on his neck, feeling him let out shuddering breaths. cute.

when you use your other hand to trail up under his shirt, feeling up his muscle, you can hear him gulp, and for whatever reason, it turns you on even more.

“fuck, you’ve been trying to dom me, haven’t you?” he breathes out.

you let out an airy laugh out of your nose, grazing your thumb over his nipple, the hitch of his breath being your undoing. “i have been domming you—this entire time. what, don’t like it when a womans in charge?”

he shakes his head immediately, “no, no, i like it. i really do, i like it a lot. i like it when its you, noona.”

even when you have his mind sent to overdrive, he still knows exactly what to say to have your heart racing, it’s dangerous.

“hm?” you hum, throat dry, trying to forget the comment thats repeating over and over in your head. he likes it when its you. you scoff a laugh, “you really know how to get a girl going huh?”

“would treat you right. give me a chance noona, i’ll treat you like a queen.”

“a queen?” you laugh, then pretend to ponder on it as you play with his bud more, his dick leaking through your hand—he’s enjoying it all too much. “think would like goddess more.”

he moans wantonly when you thumb his tip, then transitioning to jacking off his shaft in frantic speed, it gets him delirious. “goddess, goddess, fuck—i’ll treat you like a goddess baby, swear.”

“sure you wouldn’t ghost me?”

his breath hitches again, head dipping into your shoulder, jaw practically hung open, mix of moans and whines spilling out of his mouth dumbly—who would’ve thought, huh? “never. so pretty, you’re so pretty and smart, and and—”

“such a slut, just want your dick touched and you’ll say anything.”

you feel him shake his head, still panting heavily as he grabbles onto you for support. he’s clingier than you expected, he holds onto you so often.

“faster…faster please, ‘m sososo close.” he sobs, his shaky breath fanning on your shoulder.

you chuckle, giving him what he wants, the wet squelching sounds heightening until he breaks. “gonna—gonna-” he spills before he could even finish his sentence, with a high pitched noise he cums in his pants, no doubt creating a big stain in the area of his crotch.

well, shit.

but when he lifts his head, a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over still, you think he might not mind all too much.

############

note. long overdue sub taehyun and a noona smut from me 🙏 did they fuck. no. will there be a future continuation of this au. perhaps.

[ohproserpine]

iv. dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago

˚୨୧₊♱

"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.

With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"

"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"

Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"

A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.

"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"

Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.

"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."

"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"

Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"

"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.

As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"

Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"

Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."

˚୨୧₊♱

The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.

Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.

Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.

Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.

"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."

"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."

"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"

Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."

A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"

“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"

With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.

Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."

"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"

"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.

"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.

"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."

"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.

Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.

As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.

"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"

With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"

As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.

On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.

Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.

Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.

"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.

The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.

"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."

"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"

Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.

Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.

The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.

"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."

"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.

"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."

"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"

Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."

Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.

The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.

"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.

"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"

"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.

"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"

Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"

"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."

"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"

Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."

Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"

"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."

Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"

The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.

"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.

"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."

"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.

"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.

Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.

˚୨୧₊♱

You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.

You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.

"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."

Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.

A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.

You missed your husband.

With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸

A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.

Alastor.

Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.

With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.

"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.

Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.

"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."

Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.

From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.

Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.

The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.

You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.

In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.

Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.

The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"

"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"

"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."

Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.

To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract

"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"

"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"

As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.

"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.

"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.

"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.

"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."

"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.

"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."

A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."

Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.

"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.

"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.

Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.

“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”

"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."

“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”

Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.

"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"

Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.

A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "

Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.

"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"

"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."

Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.

The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.

The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.

Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.

"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.

"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."

˚୨୧₊♱

[covenofagatha]

hiiii <33

Could you write something about Agatha being a little insecure about being older than the reader?

Maybe they're at a party and someone the reader's age is going to talk to her and Agatha feels jealous and a little insecure, but pretend not to feel anything?

Then they go home and the reader shows Agatha that she loves her more than anything :)

If it's not too much to ask, the reader could have an obsession with Agatha's breasts and... really like eating her out? (like, a *really* big obsession) (sorry, Mrs Fletcher is on my mind a lot lately)

sorry for the details, lol, this came to me in the middle of the night

and by the way, I love your writing <33 you write very well

and I'm looking forward to the but you are my stepmother update :D

kisseess <3

I may have changed the setting a little bit (I've been watching Succession and was influenced lol) but hopefully you like! Also, Mrs. Fletcher literally changed my life so I completely understand

I combined this one with another request for being obsessed with Agatha’s breasts

Happy New Year to everyone!

Glitter on the floor

When Agatha gets jealous at the company New Year's Eve party, you remind her that she has nothing to worry about

Word count: 4300

Warnings: oral sex, oral fixation, breast fixation, marking

“Do you think anyone would notice if we just leave before the party even starts?” You ask, throwing a stress ball up in the air and catching it without even looking. 

You’re laying on your back on the couch in Agatha’s office and she snorts from her seat at her desk. 

Unlike you, when Agatha said she was going up to her office to quickly read over a contract before the company New Year’s Eve party, she meant it. You had just followed her up here to see if she was willing to get up to any funny business. 

“You don’t think they would notice that the CEO and General Counsel of the company aren’t at the company party?” Agatha asks amusedly, sarcasm dripping from her tone. 

Spellbound Network is a multi-billion dollar news conglomerate that Agatha Harkness is the Chief Executive Officer of. She’s absolutely ruthless and doesn’t hesitate before tearing anybody and everybody down. Nothing will stand in her way of world domination. 

As General Counsel, you’re a little less important, but you know that Agatha is right. The last thing you need is people speculating. 

The two of you have been involved in a more than professional relationship for seven months now. It all started when you offered to stay late to help her finish up with some end-of-quarterly reviews before the deadline and the two of you had ended up going out for drinks when you had finally finished. Agatha had let her hair down and told you just how stressed she was, and you had stupidly told her that you could help her relieve some of that stress. 

She had raised an eyebrow and you had taken it as a challenge. The next thing you knew, she was calling a car and the two of you were making out in the backseat on the way to her penthouse. 

It had grown into a relationship, a relationship that no one else in the office knew about. Things were getting pretty serious, and Agatha had even brought up you moving in with her. 

But you roll your eyes anyway. “It’ll be boring,” you drag out the last word slowly, sitting up to face her. “Wouldn’t you rather go back to your place, or even just stay up here?” You give her an impish grin and a wink. 

It’s a lost cause. Agatha has never let you touch her nor has she touched you in the office. 

She fixes you with a glare. “If you’re not going to behave, you can go downstairs and help set up for the party.” 

You hum in acquiescence and you’re about to resume your position on your back when Agatha leans forward and props herself up on her elbows, pushing her visible cleavage together. 

Your mouth runs dry. She’s wearing a long black dress with a low neckline that puts her breasts — that you may or may not be obsessed with — very much on display. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did it to tease you. 

“Agatha,” you whine, trying to sound pathetic so she’ll take pity on you. You can practically taste her skin with how badly you want her. 

She knows what you’re thinking, as always. “Stop,” she says without even looking up from her desk. “You aren’t going to goad me into touching you. Hasn’t worked any other time, isn’t going to work now.” 

You pout. “What are you talking about? I’ve never tried to.” It’s a bold-faced lie and you both know it. 

“Oh yeah?” She asks, at last looking up at you. “So when you got me that vibrator for the Secret Santa at the Christmas party, ‘not realizing that it was a public gift swap’; that wasn’t an attempt to work me up? Or when you just happen to come in here almost every day and knock over my pens so you have to bend down and shake your ass in my face?” 

You can’t help but chuckle at the reminders of your brazenness. To be fair, you had genuinely thought that the Secret Santa swap would be done in a group but then the gifts would be opened alone. And much to your surprise, you were wrong and when Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, had announced that it was time for everyone to open their gifts, you had quickly dragged Agatha upstairs, making some excuse about a phone call about a breaking news story. 

She had been furious at almost having to open your gift in front of the entire staff, and instead of having a very Merry Christmas Eve, courtesy of your generous gift and a well-placed bribe to the person who had actually drawn Agatha in the swap, she hadn’t touched you at all that night. 

But Christmas Day was much better, when she had put you on your knees for almost an hour and you made her cum four times with just your mouth. 

“You’re not letting those go anytime soon, are you?” You mutter. 

She throws a paper clip at you. “Go downstairs and stop bothering me,” she orders, fondness still in her voice. 

You huff a big sigh, one that tells her that just because you’re obeying doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, and walk over to place the paper clip and stress ball back on her desk. You straighten out your own dress, a long maroon one, and lean over to press a chaste kiss to her lips. 

To your surprise, she lets you do it and she even deepens it, flicking her tongue against the entrance to your mouth. When she pulls away, her eyes are dark and you’re about to ask her to reconsider, but she ushers you away with her hand and turns back to the contract. 

There’s not very many people in the lobby where the party is taking place, so you stand alone at a table and accept a glass of champagne from a waitress. It’s only ten pm and you know most of the staff won’t get here until closer to midnight, which would’ve been smart. 

If only Agatha hadn’t insisted that you and her come in for the entire day and get ahead of all the stuff that’s coming up in the new year. She didn’t even let you go back to your apartment once you both had finished, instead letting you shower in her private adjoining bathroom. 

And she wonders why you’re already so bored; you’ve been at the office for fourteen hours. 

Still at least two more to go. 

You take another glass of champagne and set it down next to your already half-empty glass. You’re going to need it once more people start showing up. 

It’s not that you don’t like them, it’s just that…if the building was on fire, you’d only really think or care about saving Agatha. 

“Hey there, General Counsel,” Rio says, slinking up to you. 

You smile. She’s an oddball, but her wry sense of humor sometimes is the only thing that gets you through business trips. Besides Agatha, of course. 

And it’s not exactly a secret that she has a bit of a crush on you. On paper, it would make more sense than you and Agatha. Rio is your age, and for all intents and purposes, doesn’t have any power over you, nor you her. 

But you’re in love with Agatha, and older women have always been more your type anyway. You’re perfectly happy with being friends with Rio, and it seems that Rio is content with your relationship now too. 

“Hey, Rio,” you greet, lifting your glass in a silent toast to her. She lifts up the other one and smoothly downs it in one gulp. 

And then the elevator dings and Agatha steps out and you forget all about Rio and everyone else. Your eyes follow her as she glides through the lobby, not even looking at you once, and she picks up a plate of caviar while the Chief Financial Officer, Jimmy, goes to talk to her. 

Rio taps her fingers to the rim of the empty glass. “So, I heard Harkness is thinking about acquiring Hex Industries for better tech.” 

“Water cooler gossip,” you say dismissively, not wanting to talk anymore business for the day. You’ve done enough with that with Agatha. And then you lower your voice conspiratorially. “But I did hear that Jimmy got divorced again?” 

It sends Rio into a fit of giggles and the two of you swap the details you’ve heard from various people and try to piece together what really happened. It does make the party go by faster and before you know it, there’s only about an hour before midnight. 

You cannot wait to go home with Agatha and forget all about work and this party and just focus on her. Ever since she changed into the dress she’s wearing tonight, you haven’t been able to focus with how delicious her breasts look in it. 

Some might call it an oral fixation, some might call it mommy issues, but there’s no denying how much you love to suck on her nipples. And to eat her out. 

Fuck. You can’t be thinking about that. Rio is saying something, something now about Tony, the Chief Operating Officer, and you’re shifting your weight thinking about the sounds Agatha makes when you get your mouth on her. 

You look around the room and you find her, standing alone, nursing her own glass of champagne. But what startles you is that she’s already watching you with a strange look on her face. You give her a small smile, your heart filling with adoration for the older woman, but she looks away. 

“Will you excuse me for a second?” You say to Rio, who nods. You walk over to Agatha and slide up next to her, your hand brushing against her lower back. “You okay?” You murmur into her ear. 

Agatha clears her throat and rolls her shoulders back and you have to make a pointed effort not to stare at her boobs that get pushed forward. “Just ready for this party to be over,” she says, voice clipped. 

“Oh yeah?” You whisper, cocking an eyebrow. “What do you have planned for when we get home?” 

She looks at you, finally looks at you, and you can see a guarded look in her eye. “We’ve had a long day, and this party won’t be done until after midnight. I’ll probably turn in.” 

“Oh, Mommy, your age is showing,” you tease mockingly in a hush, wearing a dramatic pout, another joke about how much older she is that she usually rolls her eyes at and then makes a comment about how much you like it.  

But she stiffens today. “Well, you’re more than welcome to go home with Rio if you want someone your own age.” The retort hits you like a punch in the gut and you’re left dumbfounded as she walks away, heels clacking on the floor. 

Is she…jealous? Surely Agatha can’t be, she knows how much you want her and love her. She knows how willing you are to show her. 

And maybe, just maybe, she’ll let you remind her right now. 

You check your watch. Forty-five minutes until midnight. You can feel her gaze from across the room, but when you try to make eye contact, she pretends like she isn’t looking at you, and you make the executive decision to try something that will probably backfire. 

Pulling out your phone, you pretend to take a call. You can feel her air shift; she knows that if someone’s calling you this late, it must be something urgent. You nod like you’re listening and then after a minute or two, you put your phone down. 

You meet her eyes and tilt your head toward the elevator, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. This could backfire. She could get so mad at you. 

But you have to try. 

Agatha excuses herself from the small group of people that have congregated around her table and she follows you into the elevator. 

“Who was that? What’s wrong?” She demands, and you almost feel bad for making her this panicked. 

You shake your head. “Just wait until we get to your office.” You think it should be a hint, but she doesn’t pick up on it. Instead, Agatha chews on her bottom lip and tosses her hair back over her shoulders. 

The doors ding open on the sixtieth floor and Agatha trails behind you, hot on your heels, as you take her to her office. You tell her to get on the couch while you draw the blinds to the glass windows facing the interior of the building, just in case anyone should happen to walk by. The television is on outside in the hallway and you can faintly hear the sounds of the New York Ball Drop show. A little over thirty minutes left. 

“What is going on?” Agatha asks again, clearly exasperated by you dragging this out. 

You turn around and almost moan at the sight of her sitting with her knees pulled up under her and her elbow propped up on the couch. This time, you really can’t help your gaze from darting down to her breasts and she snaps her fingers to get you to focus. “Rio’s just a friend,” you say bluntly, and Agatha scoffs. 

“What does this have to do with anything?” 

You slowly walk over and kneel down in front of her, pulling her legs out so that her feet are on the floor and you rest your chin on her knee and look up at her through your eyelashes. “There wasn’t a call,” you confess, already wincing on the inside at how she’s going to react. Her face remains stoic. “You were bothered by Rio and I talking.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

But Agatha jeers. “Is this your excellent counsel that I pay you so much for? That I’m bothered? Don’t think I don’t know about the little crush she has on you.” 

“So what if she has a crush? I don’t like her like that. You know I only have eyes for you,” you say, slowly inching the hem of her dress up her legs, waiting to be rejected. 

Her hand slides up your head and fastens into your hair, tilting you back so you can look straight at her. “Oh yeah?” She asks, daring, challenging you to go further. 

 You swallow hard. “Let me show you?” You offer timidly, praying it’s the right answer and you’re not reading this wrong. 

Agatha growls, a guttural noise deep in her throat, and she yanks you up and kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth and you moan at the feeling, settling into her lap with your legs on either side of hers. She tugs at your hair and the sting makes you keen, only making you need her more. 

You can’t even wait, you’ve been on edge for too long, and you trail your lips down her neck, scrape your teeth against her collarbone, and then she helps you take the straps of her dress off. 

The second her breasts are free, you’re on them like you’re starving and they’re your salvation. You cup both of them with your hands, feeling the sturdy weight of them, and you knead softly, running your thumbs over both nipples. The dusky rose color stands out against her pale skin and you watch with fascination as her nipples harden under your gentle touch. Part of you still can’t believe she’s letting you touch her in the office. 

Not that you’re complaining. 

You swoop down and take one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the little bud, and Agatha’s back arches off the couch as her fingers dig into your hair to keep you there. You’ve never felt more content in your life than like this, and you happily suck on her as the most delicious sounding noises fall out of her mouth. 

Her free hand finds your hip just as your fingers tug at her nipple that isn’t being occupied by your mouth and you can make out what she wants. Without moving away from her, you shift and place a leg in-between hers, able to feel the heat radiating from her pussy through her underwear and dress. 

“Fuck,” you mutter brokenly when she grinds up against your knee and you can feel just how wet she is. 

Agatha huffs out a chuckle. “You love sucking on Mommy’s tits so much, don’t you?” She asks and you switch sides and hum against her skin. “Mommy loves it, too.” 

You groan and take a break from directly stimulating her, instead, opting to lightly bite at the skin around her nipples, taking extra care to mark the curvature under them. She’s especially sensitive there, and her little gasps only spur you on. 

After you’ve left sufficient proof that you were there, you pull back and admire your work and you sharply inhale. Her breasts are absolutely painted with red marks that will surely fade into bruises by tomorrow and her chest heaves, a ragged look in her eyes. Agatha is still undulating against your leg and you can visibly tell how turned on she is. 

“Am I convincing you yet?” You ask, your voice coming out a little hoarse, and Agatha barks out a laugh. 

Her wicked grin has a thrill running inside you and she shifts underneath you until you figure out what she is trying to do. It’s a bit awkward, but she manages to turn her body so that her legs are on the couch horizontally but you’re still on top of her. 

She hums thoughtfully. “Think I might need a little more. If you’re willing, that is.” 

Only too willing. You can’t help yourself from leaning down and giving her a hard kiss, pulling away and sucking one nipple and then the other roughly until she moans, and then you move down her body and bunch up her dress at her hips. You put your hands on her shins and guide her legs up so they’re bent, her heels on the couch. 

And then you settle between her open legs and mouth at her sopping cunt through her underwear. A groan tears out of you before you can stop it at tasting the wet fabric, thick with her scent which you’ve become addicted to. You suck on her underwear, pulling the moisture out of it, and Agatha jerks underneath you. 

“We don’t have all day, pet,” she says tightly and you can hear the television outside saying there’s fifteen minutes left until New Year’s Day. 

You chuckle at her impatience and finally pull down her underwear. You wish your dress had pockets so you could store it for later, but you made do for just throwing it somewhere in her office. 

And then you drag your tongue up her slit and absolutely lose yourself in the taste. There’s something so indistinguishable and indescribable about it, and you lazily explore her pussy, getting as much of her wetness as you can into your mouth. You vaguely realize that she’s wrapped a leg over your shoulder and her heel is digging in, the sting only turning you on more. 

Small gasps are pulled out of Agatha’s mouth and her hips buck, trying to get more stimulation, but to no avail as you are completely focused on just licking her slowly. You moan into her and the vibrations make her whimper, but you almost don’t even hear it. This is your favorite place on earth, between her legs, and you don’t want to ever leave. She’s so warm and wet and responsive against your tongue and you fucking love it. Love getting her wetness all over your face, love feeling her clench around your tongue, love the taste and smell and how she reacts when you lap at her clit. 

You do that now, and her thighs tighten around your head and she sighs like she’s finally getting some of the relief that she needs. 

“I love your pussy,” you say, but the words are garbled. She lets out a muffled sound and you look up through hooded eyes to see her head strewn back in pleasure, dark hair fanned out beneath her, bottom lip between her teeth, and her fingers tweaking her raw nipples. The sight makes you moan against her again and her hips jump. 

She looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the fire inside you only being stoked more when you realize that almost all the blue in her eyes is gone, entirely swallowed up by dark desire. “Please,” she begs, sounding more needy than she ever has since you’ve started sleeping with her. “Mommy needs this so bad.” 

And the only thing you love more than tasting her with your mouth is making her cum with your mouth. 

So you oblige, thrusting your tongue inside her and almost losing all composure when her walls flutter around it. She lets out a loud whine when your nose brushes against her clit and you keep doing that, curling your tongue inside her and moving your head up and down so she can get some desperately needed stimulation to her clit. 

“Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good,” she practically sobs, and you can feel her throb. She never takes long, which is almost a shame because you’d stay between her legs forever if you could. Building her up, feeling her legs tremble around you, that’s half the fun right there. 

But she needs it, and you can hear that it’s getting closer to midnight. Only a few minutes left. 

You double the intensity, dragging your tongue over her clit again and again, feeling it pulse. You slip a hand between your own legs and groan at the wetness you find, fingers strumming at your own clit through your dress and soaked panties. Nothing gets you more turned on than Agatha’s pussy in your mouth, absolutely coating your face. 

She’s pinching her nipples now and you almost lose your rhythm from wishing you were the one doing that to her, but you don’t falter. Wetness is dripping out of her cunt onto the couch below and you almost smirk at the thought of seeing the stain tomorrow.  

Agatha better let you fuck her in her office more often. You clench at the thought of being under her desk, eating her out while she’s going through contracts or in a meeting or having lunch. Anytime you can. 

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” she chants and you can hear the minute countdown start. You lick and suck and nip and her hips are moving furiously, grinding on your face and you can’t breathe but you don’t even care because she tastes so fucking good. 

“Five…four…” You shove your tongue inside her and curl it up, stroking against the spongy spot that makes her gasp. “Three..two…” You scrape your teeth against her clit and she keens. “One…Happy New Year!” 

You suck her clit into your mouth hard and that does it. She goes flying over the edge, wetness gushing out onto your face, and you blissfully lick her through her orgasm, not even realizing that she’s too sensitive until she’s tugging at your hair, pulling you away from her. 

She brings you in for a kiss, a tradition when the clock strikes midnight on January First, but also something she always does when you eat her out, moaning at the taste of herself on your lips, and you don’t even care that you haven’t cum yet. You clasp her cheeks and your tongue sweeps into her mouth until you finally have to break apart to breathe. 

“What a way to start the new year,” you joke and she laughs and fluffs her hair. She looks like a thoroughly-fucked mess, but also the hottest you’ve ever seen. You soften and press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You know I love you, right? I don’t care about how old you are, you know I fucking love that. You don’t have to worry about Rio, or anyone else, no matter if they’re my age or not. I want you and only you.” 

Agatha smiles and kisses you again, and then kisses your nose. “I want all your midnight kisses, baby. I love you too.” It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever said. 

And of course you immediately have to ruin it with a joke. “Office sex isn’t that bad, hm?” She pokes your side and you giggle. 

“Let’s get back downstairs before anyone notices that we’ve been gone for so long,” she says. 

You whine but reluctantly get off her when she pats your hips and she finds her underwear that was thrown to the ground. You both fix your make-up in the mirror and then you’re back in the elevator, descending the sixty floors. If anyone asks, you’ll say it was an emergency with an acquisition. But you doubt anyone will. The champagne is flowing and it’s a party. 

Before the doors open, Agatha takes your hand, squeezes it three times as if to say I love you and then there’s a ding and it’s back to reality. 

But she gives you a wink meant only for you when she toasts to the company and all the good things yet to come and a warm feeling fills you. 

What a way to start the new year, indeed. 

[dollfacefantasy]

Daddy's Home

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you let the d word slip during sex and leon will not let you live it down

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, praise/degradation, spits in her mouth, mention of breeding kink, cums inside, crying during sex

word count: 2.3k

a/n: hi everyone. i wrote this all in one sitting because i was feeling absolutely depraved. i was also a little sleep deprived, so go easy on me. i hope everyone likes this. if you sent me a request, i am working on it, just be patient with me :) anywho, thank you to cooking mama @sleepyluxe for inspiring me to whip this one up. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated. smooches to everyone <3

“Daddy!” you cry out when the tip of Leon’s cock brushes over a sensitive spot deep within you.

He had you pinned on your bed, your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into your throbbing cunt. Your warm skin rubs against his as low grunts rise from his throat in time with his rhythmic thrusts. His arm flexes from his iron grip on the headboard above you. He was so deep in you that you couldn’t think straight. And that’s why that word tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

The second he hears it his eyes open fully, his hips sputter, and he comes to a halt inside of you. Your legs slip down to either side of his waist. He looks down at your blissed-out face, trying to discern if you realized what you had said. He’s shocked at first. Sure, you had always leaned to the submissive side of the bedroom, but you had never expressed an interest to him about anything like that. At first, it shocked him, but he felt a fuse ignite in the pit of his stomach. A cruel smirk grows on his face.

“What did you say?” he asks slowly, letting it sink into your mind what you had let slip.

Your mind, in its foggy state, took a moment to catch up. You rewind the last thirty seconds in your head and humiliation crashes over you in one brutal wave. You feel your face getting hot. You can’t meet his eyes as your brain scrambles to conjure an excuse.

“Nothing,” you say quietly, settling on that as a satisfactory explanation.

He almost laughs, but he didn’t want to be mean. Yet.

“No, sweetheart. Use your words, c’mon. I know you can,” he croons while tilting your face up by your chin. He runs a thumb over your jaw to try and soothe you into sharing.

His eyes lock on yours with an intense gaze, luring out your soul to expose your desires to him.

“I didn’t… I- It’s nothing. I didn’t say anything,” you say, unable to get the word to leave your lips for a second time. His smile grows at your shyness.

“Oh, c’mon babydoll. Don’t you want to be a good girl for Daddy?” he teases with an evil glint in his eyes.

Involuntarily, you flutter around him when he says the magic word, and that makes him chuckle. You bite your lip as his thumb continues running along your jaw. He looks down at you with the gaze of a predator closing in on their prey.

“I thought that’s what you said,” he says, letting go of the headboard and lowering himself closer to your face, “Who knew my angel could be so naughty? My baby who would blush just when I’d hold her hand. Never would have imagined I’d hear her moaning for Daddy. Maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

He places a few soft kisses on your cheek while you squirm, feeling your embarrassment grow. It didn’t help that you could still feel his cock pulsing inside you the entire time.

“If that’s what you like, you could have told me, honey,” he says in between pecks. His voice is gentle, but there is still a hint of mocking, “It makes sense now that I think about it. Always clinging to me, curling up on my lap, just so desperate to be in my arms. You just want Daddy to take care of you, right? Love you and keep you safe? Well, I can do that, baby, but you have to say you want it.”

It felt as if each word he spoke worked away at melting your brain. You felt warmth growing in your chest and spreading out through your limbs. That desire to be held was growing overwhelming. You could feel yourself sinking into that place where only one thing was on your mind. Daddy.

You had never told any of your lovers about this. It made you feel dirty, wrong, perverse. You never thought Leon would go for it which is why you kept it locked away in the deepest, most intimate chamber of your heart. But here he was. Silky locks of brown hair almost covering his eyes, his toned abdomen pressed to yours, and that knowing smile plastered on his face as he egged you on.

“Say it,” he says after your brief silence, “Tell me what you want.”

“I want Daddy,” you whimper out quietly. You feel shame rising in your chest as you voice the thoughts that had bounced around your skull for longer than you could remember. You had thought of him this way since before the first time you had slept together, but you had never said it out loud.

“Speak up, baby. Daddy can’t hear you when you mumble,” he teases before that taunting expression increases, “And be more specific.”

“I want Daddy… I want Daddy to fuck me,” you say with more clarity but the same amount of timidness. 

He lets out a cruel laugh. “Listen to my little angel’s mouth. Dirty baby. But I think I can do that for you,” he says before he begins moving his hips again.

You moan softly at the light relief, both physical and mental from him moving on from the topic. Or so you thought.

“Mhm, that’s right. Daddy’s got you, babe. I’m gonna take good care of my girl,” he purrs in your ear.

The low rumble of his voice directly in your ear has your insides on fire. Before you can stop yourself, a pathetic whine escapes you.

“Daddy,” you say as your face tenses and your eyes flutter.

“Daddy’s here, sweetheart. Filling you up so perfect, yeah? Just the way you like,” he mumbles as his hand slides up to grip your throat while rolling his hips against yours.

“Daddy,” you whimper again, your head tilting back against the pillows while you squirm.

“Is that the only word you know, sweet girl?” he mocks, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure I fuck you so hard that’ll be the only word that can leave that slutty mouth of yours.”

Your pussy clamps down around him while your arms loop around his shoulders. The need to be close to him was primal. It was innate. You couldn’t ignore it. You whimper and whine as he snaps himself into you over and over while kissing your neck below your ear. He lets out a growl against your neck, causing you to dig your nails into his back in response.

“Harder Daddy,” you mewl.

He presses his forehead against your neck and grunts. Despite his teasing, he was enjoying this just as much as you. His hands fall to your hip and hold so tight you can already feel the bruises.

“Use your manners, princess,” he says, “You’re not the boss. You ask Daddy for what you want and if I feel nice, you’ll get it.”

“Please Daddy. Please harder. Please, need it so bad,” you ramble out immediately. Your nails start to drag down his back, leaving faint red trails in their wake.

“Are you sure? You’re already falling a part for me, and I haven’t even really started yet,” he says.

“I’m sure. Please!” you beg.

“If you’re sure, baby,” he says.

He grants your wish and starts drilling into you at a ruthless speed. Your skin claps against his, both of you starting to work up a sweat. Strained, broken moans fill the room as his cock strokes every possible sweet spot inside of you. You flutter around him as the tension in your belly grows.

“So close already, angel? I thought you could handle it. When did my baby girl become such a needy whore?” he breathes with that same grin, “You can cum whenever you want this time but know that you aren’t done. Not until I’m satisfied.”

You nod as whines and moans rise in your throat. You’re panting and rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. He cages you in on the mattress and works harder to push you over the edge. One of his hands slips between the two of you to thumb your swollen clit.

In no time, you’re spasming and gasping as surges of release course through you. Your eyes roll back and you cry out for Daddy some more.

Leon chuckles. “Yeah, sweetheart, only Daddy can make you cum like this. No one else.”

You again nod mindlessly. You continue cumming, trembling as the high works its way through you. When it should be done, you don’t get to come down. His constant pumping makes that impossible. Your head is syrupy and cloudy. You feel like you’re being dragged along for this ride while still floating in your own little world.

Leon shakes his head and half-laughs, half-moans at your dazed expression. Your glossy eyes and slowed blinking. The little stream of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth that he wipes away with his fingers.

Despite being so fucked out, you still babble incoherently and cling to him like you needed him to live. He positions his face above yours and spits down into your mouth before kissing you lovingly.

“Daddy, ah, oh fuck, Daddy, Daddy,” you start to chant like it’s a prayer when your lips separate. He kisses you hard again, shutting you up momentarily, before pulling back and stroking your hair from your face.

“Did I fuck my baby dumb already? So quick doll, it’s almost pathetic,” he teases, “You wanted this so bad didn’t you? You wanted Daddy to fuck your head clear? Well, I’ll do that. Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself thinking. My pretty girl doesn’t need thoughts. She just needs to be good for daddy.”

You clench around him hard and nod while more noises that once could have been words exit you. You nuzzle your head against the side of his head, taking in the feel and smell of him.

“You’re lucky I love you. I’ll do the thinking for us both. You just have to sit pretty in Daddy’s lap and take his cock,” he grunts, “Though, maybe sometimes I’ll keep you at my feet. You just kneel on the ground between my legs and rest that cute, thoughtless, little head on my thigh. Let me look into those beautiful, empty, eyes staring up at me. If you’re good, you can suck me off.”

It was all so much. His words swirled around your head that was fuzzy with euphoria, each syllable sinking you down into that part of your head that wanted him more than anything. The compartment of your brain that gave you the need to tuck yourself under his arm and cuddle with him. The compartment that gave you the craving for sweet kisses and praise. The compartment that told you all you needed to do was listen to Daddy and be his perfect girl.

Tears start pricking at your eyes and you can’t fight them off in this state. They fall from your eyes and you whimper. You cling to him tighter as he works himself into you over and over. He notices and leans down to kiss a few away.

“Aww, did I make my sweet baby girl cry? Is Daddy being mean to you by teasing?” he coos, “No, it’s not that, is it? My baby just feels so good she can’t take it. She was acting like such a pathetic slut, but deep down you’re still my good girl. My precious little angel who deserves all the love in the world.”

You cry harder and pull him closer so you can bury your face against him. Your tears wet his skin as he he kisses your hairline and rubs a hand up and down your side.

“Good girl. Cry for Daddy, baby. Get all of it out. It just feels so good, doesn’t it? Too much for a sweet thing like you?” he asks.

“Maybe a little,” you whimper against his shoulder.

“Daddy always knows best, little love. You’ll learn that soon enough,” he says with a kiss to your head.

He continues fucking you into the mattress, working himself to that edge. It wasn’t hard to reach with you crying in his ear and mumbling about how much you loved him.

“Not much longer, sweetheart,” he hums as his eyes shut momentarily. He fights off an impending orgasm with a groan before training his eyes back on you, “I’ll let you choose this time. Where do you want Daddy’s cum, baby?”

“Inside,” you answer clearly with no hesitation.

“Inside,” he laughs, “You really want that. Want daddy to breed this little pussy? Get you nice and full. Yeah, that’s what daddy’s girl needs. Need a hot load inside you or you can’t relax.”

He snaps into you harder and keeps a firm hold on you. You feel like you’re cumming again, but you’re not sure when your last release ended so it’s hard to tell. He’s right there. You can feel him pulsing and twitching between your walls.

“Fuck, she needs to be bred. I can tell by how tight you’ve been. Sucking me in the whole time. I’ve already got you trained so well,” he moans.

A few more pumps, and he’s spilling inside you, exploding against your cervix. He’s fingers are digging into your flesh while his hips buck and he growls and whimpers into your neck. His hot and sticky ropes of cum fill you and satiate that urge inside you. For now.

When he’s done, his hips come to a stop. He lazily kisses all over your face and wipes your remaining tears away before gingerly pulling out and flopping down next to you.

Even though, your carnal needs have been fulfilled, you still wanted to be close and touching at all time. You roll over to him and place yourself against his side. You drape your arm across his chest and nuzzle his pectoral muscle.

He pulls you close in return and gives you some small kisses on your head.

“My good girl,” he whispers.

You nod and snuggle closer as he starts rubbing your back. The two of you come down in peace for a little while before he looks down at you and smirks.

“So, Daddy, huh?” he teases.

[eu-nicola]

sand

summary: Rafe got a new haircut and that catches your attention

warnings: nothing just tension

word counter: 2526

author's note: english is not my first language, part 2 is on my masterlist

The beach sparkled under the moonlight, the sand vibrating with music that seemed to envelop everyone in a carefree trance. The atmosphere was peculiarly relaxed for what used to be a mix of Kooks and Pogues. The lines usually marked by hostility and differences seemed to blur that night, at least on the surface. 

Bonfires were scattered along the beach, illuminating familiar and not-so-familiar faces. You were there, as always, in the center of things, not because you wanted to draw attention to yourself, but because your energy magnetized those around you. With a bottle of beer in hand, you moved to the beat of the music, your bare feet sinking slightly into the cold sand as you laughed and joked with your friends. 

The Kooks weren't far away, with their haughty laughter and conversations. Normally, you either ignored them or provoked them, depending on your mood. You were known for your explosive character, especially when you were around them. And if there was someone who brought out the worst in you, it was Rafe Cameron.

There was something about him that had always irritated you. Maybe it was his air of superiority, or how he seemed to always be looking for an excuse to belittle you or yours. You were no slouch either; if there was an opportunity to throw him a snide comment or a challenging look, you didn't let it pass you by.

But that night, something was different.

As you moved through the group, your eyes caught him in the distance, next to his friends. For a second, you didn't even realize it was him. Something had changed in his appearance. His normally disheveled hair had almost completely disappeared. He now sported a buzz cut that highlighted his cheekbones and jaw, making his blue eyes look even more intense under the glow of the fire.

You forced yourself to look away, but not without feeling that strange, uncomfortable heat spreading from your chest to your stomach. What the hell was happening to you? There was no way you could be reacting that way to something as trivial as a haircut. You shook your head, trying to dispel the thought.

“Everything okay?” Kiara asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed you another beer.

“Perfectly,” you replied, taking a long drink. You weren’t ready to admit what had just happened, not even to yourself.

Your eyes seemed to have a life of their own though, because despite your efforts, they kept searching for Rafe in the crowd. You saw him laugh at something Topper had said, his usual cocky grin. For some reason, it didn’t seem as irritating this time.

On an impulsive move, you decided to walk over to the nearest bonfire, where the Kooks were gathered. You weren’t going to talk to them directly, of course, but you wanted to prove to yourself that it didn’t affect you. You continued dancing, feeling the music run through your body, ignoring the curious glances of the others.

“Wow, John B’s younger sister mixing it up with the big boys? What a novelty.” The voice was unmistakable, loaded with sarcasm and defiance. You turned slowly, meeting Rafe’s eyes. He was sitting on one of the beach chairs, a bottle in his hand and that damn smirk on his lips.

“And you? Did they let you out of your golden throne for a night?” you answered without missing a beat, raising an eyebrow.

His friends let out a few stifled laughs, but he didn’t seem fazed. Instead, he stood up, taking a couple steps closer to you. The fire illuminated the contours of his face, making him look almost unreal.

“Like what you see?” he asked, pointing to his head with a nonchalant gesture.

Your mouth dropped open slightly, but you quickly regained your composure. “You look less like an asshole. That’s all.”

He laughed, a low, gravelly laugh that made your nerves tense. “Always with something nice to say, right?”

“Someone has to. Don’t expect your friends to tell you the truth.”

The exchange was quick, sharp as always, but this time there was something different in the air. There was tension, yes, but it wasn’t the usual hostility. There was something else, something you couldn’t or didn’t want to name.

You walked away from him, heading back to your friends, but you could feel his gaze fixed on your back. Trying to ignore it was futile. Every time you turned around, he was there, watching you with an intensity that made your heart pound.

That night, under the lights of the fire and the beat of the music, something had changed between you. You didn’t know what it was, or if you were ready to face it. But one thing was certain: Rafe Cameron had found a way to occupy your thoughts.

And with each drink you took, you felt the warmth of the alcohol begin to soften the edges of your usual bad mood, replacing it with a strange lightness. The salty air, the music, and the laughter around you seemed to envelop everything in an unreal bubble, as if the entire world was moving in slow motion. You tried to focus on your friends, on the conversation, on anything but those blue eyes you could still feel on you, even from across the bonfire.

Rafe Cameron. Damn. What was it about him tonight that you couldn't get him out of your mind? You tried to remember all the times he'd gotten on your nerves, all the arguments and taunts you'd exchanged, but even those memories seemed to lose their edge under the firelight and the effect of the alcohol.

You drank some more, the cold beer soothing the heat you felt on your skin, but not in your chest. Somehow, your mind kept coming back to him. To that damn haircut, to how his new look seemed to highlight how dangerous he’d always been, though this time in a way you hadn’t noticed before. 

“You’re so quiet.” It was JJ who spoke, giving you a slight nudge with his shoulder. You looked up at him, trying not to give anything away. 

“Just enjoying the moment,” you lied, raising your bottle to give him a carefree smile. 

Kiara chimed in, laughing. “That’s unlike you.”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m relaxing for once.”

But it wasn’t relaxation you felt. It was tension, a tension that grew with each passing second. Your eyes, as if they had a will of their own, found him again. He was sitting, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, listening to Topper speak. The firelight played with the lines of his face, making his cheekbones and jawline look even more pronounced.

And then, as if he sensed your gaze, his eyes met yours.

It was a direct hit, like the air had been ripped from your lungs. His expression didn't change, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like he was challenging you, inviting you to something you couldn't quite figure out. A dangerous spark that ignited inside you.

You quickly looked away, but it was too late. The damage was done. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't blame the alcohol alone for it.

You kept drinking, trying to drown out that feeling, but it was useless. The music surrounded you, vibrating in your ears, mixing with the sound of the waves and distant laughter. Your feet began to move to the beat without you thinking about it, and soon you were dancing again, lost in the moment.

The movement helped you clear your mind, at least for a little while. You turned, raising your hands, letting the music guide you. But you couldn’t help it: you wanted him to be looking at you. You wanted to feel his gaze on you like you had before.

Was it the alcohol? Was it the music? Or was it something that had always been there, buried under layers of pride and enmity? You didn’t know, and at the moment you didn’t care.

As you danced, your eyes met his again. This time, you didn’t look away. There was something in his expression that seemed to tell you that he was noticing something different tonight, too. His gaze was intense, calculating, as if he was analyzing every move you made.

You felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with fire or alcohol. It was pure electricity, a spark that ran through you from head to toe. And, for the first time, you didn’t try to fight it.

Without thinking, you walked to the water's edge, letting the waves wash over your feet. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the heat you felt. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, trying to clear your mind. But when you opened them, there he was, standing just a few feet away.

Rafe didn't say anything at first. He simply watched you, his figure dimly illuminated by the moon. He looked calm, but his eyes told another story.

“Running away from something?” he finally asked, his voice low and teasing, though there was something else in his tone. Something that made your fingers clench into fists.

“From you, probably,” you answered quickly, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the confidence you were trying to project.

He laughed, moving a little closer. “From me? You don’t seem to be doing a very good job.”

There was something about the way he said it, something that made your heart race even faster. Why couldn’t you just hate him like always? Why did tonight, of all nights, feel like the air around you grew thicker every time he was around?

You didn’t answer. Instead, you looked at him, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would be the one to break the silence that had settled between you.

The tension that hung between you was almost tangible, as if the salty air of the beach had transformed into something thicker, more electric.

Rafe looked at you as if he was seeing something for the first time, something he didn’t expect to find there, right in front of him. His expression had lost the usual mockery, and in its place was something else: a hunger, a need that lit the fire inside you even more.

He took a step closer to you, his boots sinking into the wet sand. He was so close now that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne mixed with the salt in the air. You didn’t know what to say or what to do. For the first time in a long time, you felt disarmed.

“Don’t keep looking at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low and laden with something you couldn’t quite place.

“How so?” you asked, though you barely recognized your own voice, a broken whisper that didn’t sound like you.

“As if you wanted something from me.”

Your lips parted, ready to blurt out some sarcastic retort, something to regain the control that seemed to have abandoned you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the moment his words faded into the air, Rafe closed the distance between you and kissed you.

The first contact was almost a shock, a sudden explosion you weren’t expecting. His hands found your face, his fingers gently pressing against your cheeks as his lips captured yours with a desperation that made you lose your balance. You felt the heat of his body against yours, the force behind his kiss making it clear that this wasn’t something planned or thought out. It was pure instinct.

For an instant, your mind screamed for you to pull away, that this was wrong, that this was Rafe Cameron. But your body had other ideas. Your hands moved almost of their own volition, clinging to his shirt as you kissed him back with equal intensity. Every movement, every brush, seemed to tell him that you needed him too, even though you hated to admit it.

The sand beneath your feet seemed to move with you as you let yourself go. His breath was heavy against your lips, as if he was trying to absorb every part of you in that moment.

Rafe moved away just a few millimeters, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. His hands hadn’t left your face, and his thumbs were tracing soft circles on your skin.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me with you tonight,” he murmured, his voice deep and breathy, as if he himself couldn’t understand what he had just done.

“Shut up,” you whispered before pulling his shirt down and kissing him again, this time being the one to take the initiative. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it might explode, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was him, his lips moving against yours, his hands moving down your arms until they held your waist firmly.

He pushed you back slightly until you felt the cold water splashing against your feet. The contrast between the heat he caused you and the cold of the waves was almost overwhelming, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

His hands ran over your waist, holding on as if he was afraid you would fade away. You held on tight too, as if letting go of him this whole moment might crumble. Every kiss, every movement, was charged with an intensity you had never felt before. It was as if all the hatred, all the tension that had existed between you for years, had transformed into something completely different, something that terrified and fascinated you at the same time.

Finally, you pulled away, just enough to look into his eyes. His face was illuminated by the moonlight, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss, and his blue eyes looked at you as if they wanted to burn you into their memory.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you said, though your voice shook a little.

Rafe let out a soft laugh, a low, almost mocking sound, but not in the way he usually did. “Of course not,” he replied, though you both knew it was a lie.

It took you a second to pull away completely, your hands still shaking from the adrenaline. But before you could move, he grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you.

“This doesn’t end here,” he said, his tone serious, almost like a promise.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t say anything. You simply pulled your hand away, freeing yourself from his grip, and began walking back toward the bonfire, not daring to look back. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you were afraid that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave.

[luviwon]

MIRROR KINK | y.jw

kinktober day 24! back to the masterlist here!

☆ boyfriend!jungwon x girlfriend!reader

; a new house brings new surprises, and the bedroom ceiling mirror is no exception. at first, you don’t give it too much thought —until you catch your boyfriend’s reflection in it, relentlessly pleasuring you.

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr

you’re lying close, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back, a comforting rhythm. the quiet intimacy of the moment is something you savor, both of you lost in the peaceful silence. then, without a word, he tilts his head, lips brushing softly against your cheek. you turn towards him, and jungwon catches your mouth in a slow, tender kiss, his fingers tracing along your neck as he deepens it, pulling you even closer.

his kisses grow more intense, his touch more purposeful. slowly, he shifts over you, his lips trailing from your jaw to your collarbone, lingering there just enough to make you shiver. he lifts his head, eyes catching yours, and with a smirk, he whispers, “look up.”

you lift your gaze to the ceiling mirror, and the sight makes your breath catch. from this angle, you see him fully—his hair slightly messy, his toned arms braced on either side of you, the way his body moves so naturally. his mouth is on you, his touch so purposeful, but watching him like this, completely focused on you, is its own kind of thrill.

“jungwon..” you whisper, mainly to yourself because he is already far down on your body, embracing your figure, and with a quick movement, pulling up your shirt to have his eyes staring at your chest the next second. his gaze is absorbing the picture before him, your tits close together due to your new victoria secret bra, bought by no one else than your sweet boyfriend.

and damn, he loved it on you.

although he’s usually get rid of it asap to devour your tits one by one, this time he let it stay on, just because of how sexy it looked on you. jungwon’s mouth, though, couldn’t stay away from you for too long, nor could his teeth which grazed at your skin as he nibbled, leaving a love mark on your right boob for you.

just for you, and for him to show everyone who is looking at your cleavage that you are his only.

he glanced at the mark and smirked in response, feeling hungry for more, so in a matter of seconds, your chest was now covered in hickeys, each of them hurting more than the other, a pleasurable pain still. yet you couldn’t help but whine for all of them, and that only turned jungwon on even more. you continued to look up at the ceiling, seeing how he marked you everywhere, feeling a heat growing between your legs, because that was indeed a hot view.

and you both felt very hot in that moment too.

jungwon kept on going lower, kissing your stomach with care, aware of how self-conscious you were about it, but always making sure to remind you of how beautiful you look. so his kisses were full of attention, passion and even a little bit playful as his tongue dragged a wet line from your abdomen until the boarder of your leggings.

men will be men and despite how much they love that pair of pants on you, jungwon couldn’t last for too long before pulling them down, an unnecessary piece right now. he looked up at the ceiling himself, finding the two of you exchanging gazes, and that’s all it took for you to cross your legs before him. jungwon giggled, pushing his right hand between your thighs to open your legs for him, all this while staring at your reflection.

you swallowed, your lower lip feeling a deep bite as his hand felt your thighs all over, playing with them in his hands gently, caressing your skin with such care you thought this hot session turned into a massage hour, but that was until jungwon lowered his head and gave your left thigh a lick, a wet line which stopped at your bikini line.

your light coloured panties only emphasised more your wetness, the drench material almost teasing jungwon. he loved to see how much he turned you on, making your cunt scream for his tongue. so could he make you wait any longer when you were all so needy for him, right? his playful tongue drew a line along your panties, pushing the wet fabric between your folds.

his faint smile turned into a smirk before his mouth took all of your pussy inside, panties still on because if you teased him, he will tease you too. you moaned aloud, his breathe so hot and the view on top twice as much, you didn’t know if you wanted to cross your legs or spread them even more. either way, it would still end with jungwon ruining you tonight.

when he feels like he teased you enough, jungwon pulls your panties to the side, licking you harder with his piercing tongue, making you tremble under his touch. sliding his tongue from the bottom towards the top, he finds your clit easily and can’t help himself for too long before sucking on it gently, careful to pay attention to your reaction and see how you are finding it.

because jungwon is that boyfriend who cares about what you like and what you want.

so hearing your whimper and seeing you grabbing the sheets were the only signals he needed before putting his fingers to work, rubbing your pussy in circular motions with his tongue still playing with your clit. his back muscles looked so sexy in the reflection, naturally finding your way to wrap your legs around his neck, pushing his head deeper inside you.

he moaned, obviously satisfied by your decision, and his index slid slowly inside you, making sure not to rush you and give you time to accommodate. but to be fair, did you even need to get used to his finger after fucking you rough so many times before? so as soon as he realised you were okay with that, he did not add one but two more fingers to stretch you out, pushing them all the way in and his licking never stopped, but went gently along your folds to make your legs shake around him.

jungwon breathe felt even hotter now, and his fingers moved slightly faster inside you, making you moan his name in response. let’s say 1 was a joke, 2 could be just perfect, but treating you with 3 tonight was something he doesn’t usually do. so besides the whole mirror shit, it looks like he had something else, new, to experience. and so did you, whose legs found it hard to stay still when the tip of his fingers curled inside you.

“j-jungwon” you moaned, arching your back as he sped up, the wet sounds filling up the room. “shh, baby, just enjoy the show” he whispered, referring to the reflection. your eyes could barely leave the mirror on top, the way your shaking legs wrapped so perfectly around him, his messy hair starting to get a bit wet and your arm moving with each sliding inside your cunt.

and he went for hours, overstimulating you to the point not only your pussy was soaked now, but the bed sheets as well.

[kissitbttr]

omgomgomg… a lil quickie w frat!miguel before his big game me thinks 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

“do you think they have fries stall back in the booth? i want their seaweed one”

“my dick is literally inside you muñeca, and you’re talking about fries?!”

he has you pressed down against the locker room’s bench, where his teammates had already gone. snuck you in the moment he checked that the locker’s empty,

in which you were against at first, because it’s smelly and being in the boy’s locker room is disgusting. you told him that before. suggested to do it in the teacher’s lounge or library like you both always do it, where everyone is off to the game. but he couldn’t wait that long.

it has been pretty much a ritual for him and you to fuck before the game. something about being a good luck charm when he fucks you. especially when you look as good in your cheerleading uniform. that short skirt and skin tight top makes him go crazy. you can’t blame him.

“well i’m hungry! i only had that half of burger gloria shared with me and it wasn’t enough!” you protest with a huff, sliding your hands to his biceps,

he rolls his eyes, fingers running through his lightly dampen hair, stealing a kiss from you to get you to be quiet.

“i’ll get you everything they have there, muñeca, yeah? but now? i need you to shut up for a moment”

he hooks his arms underneath the back of your knees, circling them around his waist as he plunges deeper into you making you gasp at the sudden stretch, toes curling at the sensation

miguel smiles at your reaction, hoisting your skirt up just a bit more. “mierda.. you look absolutely beautiful, baby” he grunts, thrusting his cock a little bit faster,

you dig your finger tips into the skin of his arms as he fucks you, back arched deliciously as he watches your tits bounce inside the material of your top,

“oh fuck, miggy” your whine comes off high pitched, needy. one that he has find himself obsessed with. “d-don’t stop, baby—fuck, that feels so good”

hearing that makes him growl, resting his forearm above your head to help him press down his weight on you just a little bit. your jaw goes slack, eyes lulling to the back of your head and nothing miguel appreciates more than the sight before him,

“gonna come, sweetheart? hm?” his hand moves to your jaw, getting you to look at him. his thrusts going even more brutal and deeper making you whimper

“gonna coat my cock, aren’t you? be my good girl”

nodding fast, you bite down your lower lip. big wide eyes looking into him and he swears he’s not going to make it too. not when you look at him like that,

“y-yes! yes miggy, please let me cum!”

soon enough, you both reach your high. soft moans and loud groans escaped your mouths,

miguel stays in you for a while to catch his breath, forehead resting against your collarbone before chuckling. he presses a soft kiss on the soft skin before pulling out,

he watches you trying to regain your composure, breathing heavily with your arm above your head,

“earth to muñeca? you good?l” he heavy pants with a joke, patting your thigh,

your eyes snap open to look at him, giving him a small yet satisfied smile. “i’m good.”

he helps you get up slowly after that, not before pulling the condom off him and throwing it in the trash,

“miguel!” you slap his arm. “people will see that! throw it outside!”

“no one is going to! the janitor maybe. and i’m sure he had his fair shares of seeing used condoms” he shrugs, wiping his hands off the varsity

you brush it off before pulling your panties up and skirt down, fixing up the ponytail after. you eye yourself through the small mirror attached on the wall, removing any smudged mascara and lipstick,

“do i smell like sex? i feel like i smell like sex. ugh, i smell like you!”

he quirks an eyebrow. “and what is wrong about that?”

“nothing! i like smelling like you. but they will—“

“know that i fucked the shit out of you and that you’re my girl? yes” he leaves a soft kiss on your cheek,

you smile at that, looking over your shoulder before pointing your finger at his neck,

“also you have a hickey”

he widens his eyes. “what?! FUCK!”

[f1fantasys]

Could you write something about Lando and reader going to diner with another driver of the grid and they’d be teasing each other under the table and later at home they’d get caught doing things? ;D love your writing btw

Thanks for this anon. I changed it slightly to getting caught in the car, not at home! Hope you still enjoy it xx

Teasers In Trouble

Warnings - swearing, smut, minors DNI, p in v, fingers, blowjob

It was the last race before summer break so it was safe to say everyone in the paddock was buzzing with excitement. Before jumping into the car for FP2, Lando had told you that you'd both be having dinner with Oscar and Lily later, and as fun as that sounded, you honestly wanted a night in with Lando so he could fuck you left right and center. You had been horny for him all day and now you'd have to wait a little while longer til he could take you.

So here you were in your hotel room trying to find something to wear tonight while Lando was in the shower. You normally would have joined him but you decided against it, because why start something you couldn't finish. So you tried to busy yourself and avoid looking at Lando as he emerged from the bathroom wrapped in just his towel.

But of course, you failed. How could you not look when he was stood in front of you - hair messy, eyes looking at you like you're his world - which in his defence, you are - muscles hard and dripping with water, not to mention what you knew was hiding behind his towel.

You didn't realize you were staring until he started speaking.

''Baby are you ok? You've been out of sorts all day'' he questioned you. He really was oblivious to the fact that you were horny because you were never one to hold back - if you wanted him, you'd take him. So he was confused to say the least.

''Peachy'' you said, turning around and going back to what you were doing.

What he didn't miss though, was the way you clenched your thighs together through your incredibly tight leggings you were wearing right now. That made him catch on to what was going on. He smiled to himself and thought, ''game on''

Lando dropped his towel on the spot and walked over to his suitcase, which was next to yours, bending down to take out his clothes.

The sight of his dick springing up and down through the corners of your eyes had your heart skipping a beat as all the air left your lungs.

It's what he did next though that had you literally dripping from your core.

He stood back up and without paying any attention to you, took his cock in his hands and pumped himself a few times before tugging his boxes and jeans on, leaving you somewhat drooling from your mouth.

As much as you wanted to jump him then and there, you busied yourself again, trying to think about anything but his dick.

Finally though, once you were ready and about to walk out the door hand in hand, Lando roughly pushed you against the wall.

''Gonna tell me what you want? Or gonna be a brat?'' he asked.

You cheeks immediately flushed and you couldn't help but lean forward and engulf him in a heated kiss, both your tongues quickly battling for dominance while Lando bit on your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

''Needed you all fucking day'' you said through gritted teeth between breaths.

''I know baby. Gonna help you now, yeah?''

You wondered what he was gonna do now, considering your dinner dates were already waiting for you at the restaurant.

But you confusion quickly vanished when Lando held up a pair of vaginal balls.

You gasped. ''Lando!'' and all he did was cheekily smile and lift you dress up to slip his hand in your panties.

''Where did you even get them?'' you whispered, trying to suppress your moans when he ran his fingers through you folds and slipped one in your entrance.

''Don't worry about that. Just let me put them in.''

You bit your lip as he lowered himself to his knees and slowly inserted the balls in your vagina as you pulled on his hair.

''Oh fuck me'' you quivered, the sensations giving you a bit of relief after the day you've had.

''Trust me, I plan to. But for now, these will have to do'' Lando said before standing up and licking his fingers, giving you a peck and pulling you out the door.

You tried to walk as normal as possible, and you tried as hard as you could to keep the blush off your face as you Lando approached Lily and Osc.

Once you were seated at the restaurant you were grateful to be in a booth, so you could squirm without anyone really noticing.

If you were going to get through this dinner though, you needed a bit of alcohol in your system. So you ordered a glass of red wine and hoped for the best.

You tried. You really tried to listen to what Lily was saying and take interest in a conversation but honestly, you were fucking bored and you could think of a thousand different things you could be doing right now.

Lando wasn't helped either. His hand had found your thigh, as usual, but he was itching closer and closer to your cunt. He pushed your dress up a little and let his fingers slip past your panties to dive into the pool of wetness you had going on.

You breath hitched and you could feel a blush creep up on your cheeks as you tried to remember what Lily had asked you until your boyfriend distracted you.

''Y/n are you okay? Lily asked.

''Yeah all good'' you chuckled, trying to keep as neutral as possible. ''Just a bit stuffy in here'' you said, voice quavering slightly.

Lando was being a tease and he knew it. He was so engrossed in a deep conversation with Oscar while he was making a mess of you.

So, naturally, you decided to play him back. Your hand found his knee and inch by inch crept closer to wear his manhood was. As soon as you palmed him through his jeans you felt him get hard, and now he was the one squirming in his seat.

When Lily and Osc were looking at their menu's for what to order for dessert, Lando leaned down to your ear and whispered ''Tease me again and I won't let you cum" before pecking you innocently.

''Fuck you Lan. If you won't let me cum i won't give you the blow job you so deserve for looking so fucking hot today'' you spat back, smirking at him and cupping his cock through his jeans again.

He's eyes darkened when you said that, heat rising to his cheeks.

You knew you both wouldn't last the ride back to the hotel, and just the thought of riding him in the sports car he had rented was doing things to you. Not to mention he slipped two fingers into your cunt, fiddling with the balls, having to suppress your moans so you instead bit the inside of your cheek until you could taste blood.

''I don't think I want anything for dessert. Actually wanna get back to the hotel to talk to Jon about tomorrow. Babe?'' he directed to you?

''Hmm?'' you said, slightly flustered.

''Dessert?''

''Oh no I'm good. Too full'' you said, trying to sound as decent as possible.

You didn't miss how Lily and Osc shared knowing looks, but you didn't care.

Not 10 minutes later and you and Lando were walking out the restaurant and to the car, before he pulled you into an alley way and kissed you ferociously.

''Fuck y/n, you don't know what you're doing to me tonight. Just remember - you asked for it. So don't sulk when you can't walk into the paddock tomorrow morning'' he said through breaths.

''Lan please, need to feel you, now!'' you moaned into the kiss again.

He dragged you to the car, which was parked in a secluded place for security, before pulling you on his lap and shutting the door.

In no time your dress was being ripped off your body, literally in two pieces.

''Fuck Lan!'' you shrieked, watching as your boobs were exposed to his dark eyes right away since you didn't wear a bra.

He lowered his mouth to your peaked nipples and sucked on them, tugged at them, all while you were a moaning mess, fiddling with his belt to set his aching hard dick free.

When you finally managed too free his constraints, you started grinding on it, moving slickly over him to create the friction you so desperately needed, only it felt better than ever because the balls inside you were sitting just right spots.

In minutes your body was trembling over him, his strong arms having to hold you tight so you don't go out of control.

''Lan oh my fuck. Feels amazing'' you said, moaning out his name.

Lando reached down and toyed with your clit, riding you through your orgasm before he roughly entered two fingers in your cunt and pulled at the balls, creating a feeling like no other.

He pulled the balls out and put one on them in his mouth, sucking at it. You watched as the other dangled down his chin and couldn't help but lean forward and take it into your own mouth, tasting yourself.

That earned you a delicious moan from Lando who was now pumping his aching cock in his hands, running it through your folds and slick juices.

While you both kept the balls in your mouths, you lifted yourself up to let Lando line himself at your entrance before you sank down on him, bottoming out.

The feeling back both of you groaning in each others' face, breathing each others' air in as your held Lando's face in your hands.

You started bouncing on him vigorously, your walls clenching around him almost painfully when he started to kiss you again, tongue slipping into your mouth.

''Y/n, so tight. So fuckin tight. Taking me so well. That's it baby''

You sucked on his tongue hard, stealing a the most delicious moans from him as you continued to fuck him shamelessly.

In no time you felt the familiar warmth start to build up in your lower tummy.

''Lan, I'm close. Gonna cum'' you managed to say.

''Let go for me angel. I've made you wait all day. Spill on my cock. Come on'' he edged you on.

And so you did. You came violently around him, a moaning mess as he latched his mouth back onto your nipples to ride you through your orgasm.

You body went limb in his arms and now Lando had to buck his hips up to fuck into you to chase your own release.

Until a knock on the window literally had you halting your movements in fear of who it was and what they must have heard.

''Fuck'' Lando muttered.

You both looked to the window and saw none other than Oscar standing there.

''Oh fuck me'' Lando squealed again, starting the car to open the window slightly.

''Yeah mate what do you want'' he threw at Oscar, who's eyes flew open when he saw you sitting on Lando's lap. Luckily it was too dark for him to see anything else but he obviously caught on to what was happening.

In the mean time your walls were clenching painfully around Lando and he couldn't help but stifle a few moans.

''Oscar!'' Lando practically yelled.

''Shit. Was leaving and saw your car still parked, wanted to make sure you're good'' he said, still a shocked expression on his face.

''Yeah I'm fucking more than good, so jog on'' Lando threw at him before closing the window and bucking his hips up into you, not caring if Oscar heard your moans through the window.

With no warning you came again, releasing all around Lando which in turn sent him over the edge, milking your walls with his warm cum, groaning your name in your ear.

''Fucking hell'' he said as you continued to ride him through his orgasm, dick softening inside of you.

When he pulled out you reached down to your folds and scooped the mixture of yours and his cum. You pryed his mouth open with your other hand and shoved your fingers into his mouth, moaning when he sucked them dry.

''Not gonna hear the end of this from Osc are we?'' you said, chuckling at him.

''Yeah, probably scarred the boy for life.''

''Poor Lily ain't getting anything tonight'' you laughed.

''You're so fucking incredible'' he cooed.

''I am, and I'm not done with you'' you said, climbing off him into the passenger seat.

You did end up giving him the blowjob you'd been eager to give him all day, and it goes without saying he fucked you twice more back at the hotel.

[blxvdlusttxx]

Surprise kisses (PART 1)

Various pastas x GN!reader

Pasta's react to GN!Bsf!Reader kissing them randomly

Content warning: Light smut (Jeff's part) kissing, fluff

Omg heyyy, sorry it's been a while. I'm going to try and write more as a distraction from my life issues right now, my long term boyfriend just broke up with me, so I've been having a hard time. bear with me :)

Lmk who you want in part 2!

this post was inspired by this tiktok :D (Tiktok here)

Jeff the Killer

You and Jeff were sitting on one of the few couches in the living room of the mansion

you both had nothing to do and everyone was doing their own thing

he was on his phone, doing god knows what when you suddenly got an idea

you stood up and sat right next to him, and gently cupped his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss which he instantly returned

He immediately dropped his phone and gripped your waist, pulling you up onto his lap

The simple kiss turned into a heated make out session, which eventually turned into him carrying you to his room and slamming the door behind you two

Plan failed successfully?

Liu Woods

You and Liu were walking in the woods as you often did, chatting about anything and everything

He had his scarf pulled down for once, something he only did around you

He was rambling about something Jeff had said that morning before you stopped walking and turned to him, grabbing him by the collar and pressing your lips to his

He was shocked, his eyes widened for a moment before melting into it

He gently grips your waist, pulling you closer to him

The kiss lasts for a minute, slow and sweet

When you pull away, he's smiling and looking away from you

He shakes his head when you smile and continue to walk, him trailing to catch up to you

Ben DROWNED

You were both laying on his bed, the room silent other than the noise of the gaming remote clicking and the video game audio from the tv

You were bored, and decided fuck it

You gently slipped your hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him closer

When he realized what you were doing, he playfully pushed you away

He laughed when you pouted and pulled your arm, pulling you to him

He kissed you, laying back so you flopped ontop of him

between how desperately long he had waited to kiss you, and all the laughing from the both of you, the kiss was messy

It was only broken apart when the death indication noise left the tv

"Y/N you are so lucky I love you." He grumbles.

Eyeless Jack

You both were quietly restocking the medical shelves with supplies the proxies had scavenged up earlier that day, simply enjoying eachothers company

It was one of the rare days that he had his mask off

His victim from the day before was rather aggressive and managed to punch him square in the face, breaking the already worn mask in two

He stopped when he felt you starring at him and turned towards you

When you went to pull him down to kiss him, he launched his head back in confusion

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" He asked, confusion evident in his tone

"Oh, I was going to kiss you, but I'm sorry, I won't try to again," you replied, cheeks pink with embarrassment as you turned away to continue restocking.

He then tilted his head and smiled, gently cupping your jaw and turning your head

The kiss was short, nothing more than a soft peck, but It was enough for him to notice your heartbeat picking up in pace.

Ticci Toby

You knew this would go either 2 ways

1. Tobi would flip out and run

Or 2. He would enjoy it

But whatever the odds, you decided to do it.

You were sitting in your room, tobi sitting on the edge with his legs crossed as he cleaned his hatchet (Per your request cause that things gotta be nasty)

You scooched closer to him and tapped him on the shoulder

He looked over at you, a gentle smile hidden under his mask

You reached up and slowly pulled his mask down to not startle him

"Y/n/n? What are you-"

He stopped mid sentence and dropped his hatchet on the floor when he noticed you leaning in

The kiss was gentle, you gently kissed his lips, which he shyly returned

When you pulled away, his face was BEAT red, and all he could do was smile and lean down to hide his face in your lap.

[2kiran]

I don't know if you are still doing the 3K event, but if you are, can I please request subbot!John Price and domtop!m!reader with prompt O3.(be a good slut f'me and bend over, yeah?) and prompt 02. (take it - fucking take it.) if you don't mind? Maybe reader and Price are in a meeting and Price decides to be a brat and trys teasing reader under the table so after the meeting reader drags Price back to his room and teaches him a lesson?

JOHN PRICE X TOP!READER

prompts, three + two

John Price, the legendary captain that brought in an equally legendary task force. An attentive, calculated man whose needs are given to him without complaint. As much as he likes to simply receive, he prefers to take. The opportunity that built this particular moment was too tempting not to seize. Men and women surrounded the table, with him next to you. All of them were distracted, focused on the discussion, so where’s the harm?

He nods along, stretching one arm towards your lap. You tense up when you feel a hand palm your groin, hissing when you realize it was Price. Looking at him would raise potential suspicion, so you kept your outward attention on the person who was speaking. His palm rubbed in a circle, quick and short-lived. You manage to mask a surprised grunt with a cough, his fingers locking and squeezing you through your pants.

You’re about to rut into him until he takes his hand away. There’s a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he pats your thigh, returning to crossing his arms. This man. He’s skin-deep into trouble.

“What’s wrong?” Price questions.

You hurriedly pulled him to his feet right when the meeting was over, ignoring the confused glances that your colleagues gave you.

He knew what was wrong. The bastard’s heart skipped streams, excitement drumming an erratic melody in his system. Your grip on his wrist was firm, giving him the best bite of pain that’s out of the range of his imagining ability. “C’mon,” His legs struggle to maintain your pace, breath coming quick, “Answer me.”

Price doesn’t register that he’s in his own quarters until you spin him around to face his bed. Heat spreads through him, rushing south. He bites his bottom lip, a shudder ripping through him.

“Shut up.” The familiar clink of your buckle giving way has him itching to look at you. “What were you trying to do earlier, huh?” He whines at your tone, interrogative and so fucking mean. “Tryin’ to get my dick wet in front of everyone?”

“I d-don’t know what you’re—”

“Quiet.” You demand, stepping closer to him and he’s reduced to full irrationality. “Be a good slut f’me and bend over, yeah?”

His feet stutter into a few strides, acting faster than he’s able to make sense of it all. Vision darkening, his body cognizes a single purpose and it was to obey. He bunches up the sheets, no thoughts in his head as he leans over the mattress. Ass tilted upwards, feeling bare in spite of his clothing remaining intact. His cock throbs, a yelp tumbling from his lips when you yank his hips towards you. “Fuck me already,” he whines, the bubble of stubbornness exploding into a puddle of eager submission.

You don’t get to remind him when he mutters out, “Please.”

That was all that was necessary. You help him slip out of his clothes, the air caressing his sensitive skin sparks a shiver that you catch. “Where’s the—” He immediately interjects, “N-no. Use spit.” Nasty, but it would suffice. He makes haste to bring up your hand to his face, taking in two fingers. Drool piles on the floor of his mouth, his tongue pushing to coat the digits. “Mmm..” he moans, drawing them deeper with little sucks.

His saliva leaks out, dripping to your wrist. Slowly, you retract them and one finds his rim. He soothes his breathing, releasing a trembling sigh when you painstakingly thrust that finger in, rocking until he’s no longer struggling in spasms. He grunts, driving himself backwards to have you knuckle-deep, offering him a second one appreciatively. “Giv’ me it- nnnfg, that’s an order.”

“Give you what?” You spread the digits, opening him up more for you.

“Your, ah, cock. Please, want it so bad.”

Not one to disobey a direct order—not today, at least—you slide them out and fish yourself out of the confinements. Your dick swelled from the sight, wet tip circling around his hole. “Sure you can handle it?”

Before he’s able to bark out another command, you sheathe an inch into him. “Y-you—Fuuuck-” He groans, body working to lead you out, but you’re persistent. He’s throbbing around you, desperate to rut against the silky covers. Remembering your insistent instructions, he focuses his energy on relaxing. Breath after breath, face warm and sensitive. His head shook in a nod, incapable of finding the words to permit you.

Drawing your hips out, he nods again. “Oh, oh ngh!” He whimpers when you sink into him, rolling your hips until your cock is completely enveloped by his clutching warmth. Whining, his back arches as he lowers his upper body to the bed. Chest pressed to the mattress, resting his head on his forearms as he aches for the bind of release to snap at your will.

His ass is raised, jolting with each pound, practically urging him to break. “Still gonna act like a needy whore, huh?” You grip his waist, tight and bruising which offers him the constant reminisce of pain. “Gghf, ‘m-m sorry,” He shudders, clenching, “won’t do it again, ha-aah, I’m sorry.”

John Price, a man composed of muscle and earned achievements, lessened into a cock-drunk bitch. He begins to babble out whines, his speech incoherent as his brains tangle into jumbled wires. You faintly pick up on a few words switching from ‘slower, 's too much’ to ‘more, p-please, harder’. Tears pool within his eyes, and he attempts to blink them away.

“Take it,” You grunt, grinding deep into him, “fucking take it.”

He gasps, his dick twitching and yearning for a release. Fuck, he is taking it. So well, and so beautifully too. He hums in agreement, letting out a strangled cry. “M-mhm,” he huffs, small ah’s slipping from his bitten lips. John Price was in for a long night.

[astonmartingf]

FALLING FOR YOU ; MV1

max verstappen x reader

. . . in his own little way, max finds the solutions to his problems not without a little help from his friends and ends up giving you the confession of a lifetime

amgf yeah... there's this, just fluff. i won't be as active this week because of exams and research but this is prime time of my impulsive ideas so either i can milk this opportunity to write every single day, or avoid this app for the remainder of the week. enjoy 👍

Max strives for stability. 

He enjoys the same routine that consists of jogging at eight am, early morning workout by nine am, brunch, a few rounds of sim racing, stopping by for a few phone calls and online meetings. If he isn’t expected to fly anywhere else he’d have his usual afternoon snack, play with his cats, more sim racing from six to eight pm, dinner with his team, reviewing data and notes, an hour for his own leisure— mostly sim racing, before heading to bed at one am.

Whatever happens in between is usually one of Lando’s plans in an attempt to spice things up in his life. Whether it’s going to the movies, buying ice cream at the convenience store down the street, or playing padel. Max is very much thankful for his friends.

Max also strives for the best.

He takes pride in his skills in racing and acknowledges his talent, and flaws. Honing them like a sharp knife through whetstones, he polishes himself and cuts through the defenses of the grid. He is a World Champion for a reason, and with a great car and team behind him, he knows they’ll get far. Max is very much thankful for the trust his team set upon him.

Max hates uncertainty. 

Well- hate is too strong of a word and dislike would be too weak for his opinions. 

Max despises uncertainty.

Especially when there’s you- the current root of all his “problems”. Despite his tendency to be blunt and straightforward statements, uncertainty always left a distasteful feeling in his mouth. 

Realizing that his wavering feelings for you have now shattered the routine he built to perfection. Long gone are sleeping on time and hello to staying up with you crowding his thoughts. Head full of the lingering scent of your perfume and the same voice playing in his head.

Max hated it. He despised how you orbit around his mind, bouncing through the walls of the gray matter inside his skull. He often catches himself smiling at the thought of you- before a bitter scowl fills his face and an incredulous and slightly constipated look pasted on his face.

But that was the least of his worries, such feelings could be fixed (a term he used to convince himself these are temporary). It’s not that Max doesn’t believe in relationships or think it’s nothing but a distraction, deep inside he’s aware that he craves affection. It’s the vague emotions clouding his heart making him think twice.

Then again, Max is thankful for his friends. 

“What did you say?” Lando squinted his eyes in the hopes to hear his words clearly. With a blank look- almost as if he put on a mask void of emotions Max spoke once more.

“Do I like YN?” 

The rest tilted their head to the side, in confusion. “D-did you perhaps ask us. . . if- if you like someone?” George, asked once more to make sure of his words, sighing in disbelief.

“It’s not just someone, it’s YN.” Max pushed the question once more and glanced at everyone on the table.

The silence was deafening. Max’ statement was too loud and too quiet at the same time, no one spoke and they left each other contemplating on the next words he will say.

“I need help. How do I know I like YN?” Collective gasps were heard throughout and one by one they slowly left the group of friends on the table leaving Max with Lando and George.

“How about we sleep over your question and. . .think— think about it you know?” Lando, the first to talk regarding the revelation that their stoic friend has now developed feelings for someone.

“Sleep? I hardly get any sleep these nights. I want to confirm my feelings now so I can finally sleep peacefully.” 

That’s when the pair noticed the bags under his eyes, mostly due to the lack of sleep like he said. Lando took a glance at George and started to talk telepathically at each other.

George sighs before pushing Max from his seat, “You see Max these feelings can’t be confirmed in a night, these requ-”

“It’s been weeks, George, I can’t lose sleep over such a trivial matter.” Max retorted with a firm stance using his lack of sleep as a front to confirm his feelings.

“Okay, first of all feelings are not a trivial matter. They are valid, and whatever is going on in your head about YN shouldn’t be taken lightly. Not because we’re curious but because we care about your emotional well being.” Lando spoke in a serious voice which only added on to Max’ confusion.

Feelings are not a big deal, at least not for him.

“And we're curious as to why you like YN.” George chimed as he followed the pair outside the room.

“Yes we’re curious but now how about I give you some romance books that you can study and read. Only you can confirm your feelings Max, let’s stop by my room and I’ll give you books you can read and next week- next week we’ll talk about this matter again.”

Lando now sounds like a mom scolding his child for misbehaving, dragging the latter to his room and sending him off with a tower of romance books.

Max is smart, he can understand such concepts by himself.

Feeling accomplished, Lando glanced at George smirking at him before walking away with Max to his apartment.

Max on the other hand went inside his room and began to bury himself in the books he brought along. “If I’m not sleeping at least I get my feelings in line.”

One chapter. And another turns to five and in the blink of an eye a week has passed. Max returned to his routine but instead of sleeping at one he pushed it to an even later hour to make time for reading which helped him sleep.

The first nights were hard, after finishing a chapter of the book he finds himself falling asleep and now you appear to become more vivid in his mind. Invading his dreams as romantic scenarios play on repeat while Max mindlessly sleeps which results in him waking up flustered and warm.

Passing by you on the paddock became frequent; it's as if the universe has its way to bring you together. Now everywhere Max looked there was you, in the corner of his sight you occupied a chunk of his thoughts and as much as he hated to admit he found himself anticipating your presence.

By the end of the week you managed to invade his thoughts and heart which only strengthened his theory and confirmed his feelings for you. With no time to waste, Max went to look for you. The second practice was over, he’s telling you what you’re doing to him.

With new found information from the team about your whereabouts, Max made his way to the hospitality locating where you’re assigned he opens the door abruptly to see you preparing food. You stand straight feeling the intimidating aura around him, you watch him exhale a sigh of relief before talking a large step in your direction. On instinct you back away giving him space, every step Max takes is a step backward from you.

Unknowingly your feet hit the corner of the marble countertop and like a cliché scene Max remembers from the books he’s been reading you stumble backwards.

Max is a racer for a reason, and with swift reflexes he managed to catch your fall and brought you up to your feet. “You should watch where you’re going. I don’t want you falling just like how I fell for you.”

Silence. Complete, utter silence from the both of you paired with the low buzz of the booming air conditioner right near you. You blink your eyes incredulously, “What?”

“I mean. . . I do want you to fall for me, it would be sad to find out that my feelings are one-sided. But I mean my words YN.”

You adjust your posture and back away. “What are the words Max? About me falling to the ground or you. . . you f- falling for me?” Your voice thins out at the end unsure of what you just heard.

“Both. I don’t want you to fall, it’s dangerous just like how you did to me. You enamored me with those charms, I just want to know how you did it.” Max spoke with the most bored and plain looking face he could muster up. His palms were sweating inside his pockets in extreme nervousness.

“Is this- is this your confession perhaps?” You try to piece things together, like the subtle clues Lando and George have been leaving out of nowhere.

“Yes. This is my confession.” Max blurts out as sweat drips from the side of his forehead. And just as he was losing hope from this failed confession your bubbly laugh bursts the silence in the air.

“You know, you need to work on your confession more. That was unlike any other, but I understand what you mean. Do you want me to fall for you, Maxie?” 

Max stares at you and you don't miss the soft gaze he set upon you. You note the light blush spread around the apples of his cheeks as his eyes light up the moment you called his name. The once awkward silent air was now filled with a warm feeling that spread all over your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin.

“I do. I fell for you, I like you, and I want to mean something to you.”

His way with words caught you off guard, Max Verstappen, who would’ve thought. You smile at him, this time it’s you walking towards his direction.

Max stiffened at the proximity between the two of you, his feet stuck to the floor preventing him from backing away. Your face gets closer to his and all the thoughts clouding his mind have been wiped away.

You face him and whisper something in his ear before walking away towards the kitchen at the back, legs shaking and breaths heavy. 

Taking a moment to himself Max meditates in an attempt to calm his bouncing heart, legs shaking as if they ran a hundred miles, and his mind whirring into different ideas and possibilities.

Max never falls- literally and figuratively.

Yet you managed to be the root of all his problems. The person who made him fall, there was no doubt that Max fell and will still be falling for you.

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo - Ending 6: Game Over

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: This honestly made me creeped out writing this. Hopefully it does the same for you, mwah! I was inspired randomly so enjoy such an early update! So short, sobs...

You hurried down the sidewalk to the next enclosure you were to deal with. It wasn’t quite night, but the reptile house had already turned its internal lights off, leaving only the enclosures lit up. “Spooky,” you muttered.

You decided to visit Idia first, as you had a few new video games for his handheld controller to use. He’d been enjoying the thing very much, his eyes always shining when you brought new games for him to try. The zoo had even installed an outlet in the back of his enclosure so he could charge his device.

Opening the door was a bit of a difficult task when you were holding a baggie of games in one hand, but you were inside before you knew it. Your boots always slid a little in the muddy ground of the enclosure and you did your best to avoid stepping in the little pond.

“Idia?” you called, “I have new games for you!”

Electric blue emerged from the greenery. Idia looked excited for a moment, before his eyes dulled a little. You followed him to the far corner of his cage, where the outlet was, and began unloading the new cartridges.

“I think you’ll like this one,” you said happily, “It lets you race against NPCs and-”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with the others lately,” he said, accusatory in full, “Those obnoxious tigers, that wolf…”

You tilted your head to the side, confused, “I’m not sure how you even know that but I spend time with everyone! It’s my job, Idia, you know that.”

His laugh was bitter, “Your job? Is that all I am? Just another task to check off your objectives list?”

“I care about all of you,” you replied, stepping a little closer to the salamander.

His yellow eyes narrowed, tail starting to lash, “You don’t get it! This isn’t a casual game to me! You’re the only person who matters in this wretched place! You’re my player two!”

“Idia…” you didn’t know what to say. His webbed fingers reached out for your arm and you unconsciously pulled away from the chilly feeling.

“I’ve been patient,” Idia said, “I hoped you’d see it on your own…”

The lights in the exhibit flickered and you jumped at the introduction of sudden blackness for just a moment. There was a click as the enclosure door locked from the outside and you were suddenly plunged into darkness.

It was pure black everywhere, except for Idia, whose blue scales glowed in the dark. Your hands shot out, trying to find the wall or something that would help you leave the enclosure. You couldn’t remember where the pond was or which direction the exit was.

“Welcome to the final level,” Idia cackled, “Can you make it to the exit before I catch you? Can you even get out if you make it there?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You turned around and plunged forward into the darkness, racing towards what you believed was where the exit was. But you had heard it lock- would your emergency keys get you out of there?

Your ankle rolled and you fell sideways into the pond. The water was cold enough to make you gasp and, when you turned around to look for the glowing blue scales, you watched as Idia slowly disappeared under the surface of the water. 

Heaving yourself out of the pond, you ran with your hands spread outwards in front of you, eventually running them into the glass wall. You felt your way against the wall, knowing you’d eventually find the door.

Your fingers finally found the crack in between the door and the wall and you fumbled with your keys, trying to unlock the door. You could hear footsteps approaching you and your keys began to rattle in your trembling hands.

The lights in the reptile house turned on suddenly, lighting you up despite the darkness of the exhibit. In the reflection, you could see Idia approaching you from behind and you let out a deafening scream, trying desperately to open the door in time.

Mr. Crowley stood alone in the reptile house, clapping as though you’d put on the best show. You began to cry in frustration and fear- why wouldn’t the damn door open?

Idia’s hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. His lips brushed against your ears, his whisper making you shiver in terror.

“Game over.”

[targaryenluvs]

YOURS TRULY

pairings: dark!luke castellan x fem!reader, dark!percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: with one demi-god on your tail, you try your hardest to make your escape. but with two? they’re both no where near willing to let you go.

warnings: obsession, possession, stalking, implied kidnapping, sexual implications

a/n: look who decided to write again!

Icons not mine, credits to the owner!

it wasn’t hard for him to find you again. a given, he would track you down to the ends of tartarus as long as you wound up where you were meant to be.

by his side.

at first he’d been disappointed in himself when he fell for you. luke thought himself above that, thinking that he’d devoted himself entirely to his cause. but maybe being around so many kids for so many years caused him to soften in places unknown.

because when you’d limped into camp, collapsing in the strawberry fields and sending the the place into a tailspin, he found an eerie sense of peace with you. the words and thoughts in his heads were drowned out the second you looked up at him.

“it’s- it keeps- it’s chasing me.” his hand came down to your stomach, a lash ran across. not too deep, barely half a centimetre perhaps less. luke immediately picked up his sword in defence of you, waiting for the monster to show. meanwhile the other kids were either running for chiron and mr d or gearing up themselves.

there was no way they were missing the chance for kleos.

but the monster was already subdued, as percy walked out dragging a head along with him. “order to go?” you couldn’t help the smile that came across your face at his words. but luke didn’t like it, how the hell had percy beaten him to it?

over the next few months you found yourself in between the two of them, fighting for your attention. even if it was just for a minute. during the capture the flag you found yourself rotating teams every time since apparently the other promised victory every time. but you knew if you only focused on one of them the other would be angry.

everyone else at camp found it hilarious. two of the most well known campers competing for someone who apparently couldn’t care less. you just wanted to be at camp with your friends.

but what you didn’t know was that they were actively working against each other.

“nice sword skills jackson, a scarecrow teach you?” luke laughed as percy sighed, “your insults are weak castellan, so are your own skills.” luke raised his eyebrows, he was one of the best swordsman around in a long time. they both were one of few who saw the real sides to them, the jealousy and the arrogance. all because of you.

it got so intense to the point that you knew you needed to run. they were hurting eachother constantly, all for your approval, and even threatening your own siblings at times. to the point where they slowly began to distance themselves when the two were around. whether they’re excusing themselves for the bathrooms or just blatantly upping and leaving.

“hey y/n, how are you?” your spoon froze mid air as you heard percy’s voice, a quick glance at your siblings and you could see the fear. “guys, you mind giving us a second?” all your sibling at the table were younger than you and more than happy to leave, “i’m doing fine jackson. you?” you couldn’t be any shorter with him yet he always engaged himself in conversations with you. even when you were clearly uninterested.

“i’m doing amazing, now that i’m talking to you.” you flashed him a smile before getting up with your tray, “that’s nice, i’ll see you around.”

percy watched as you walked away, until he heard the voice he dreaded. “left alone are we?” luke joked whilst sitting down in the spot you’d occupied not too long ago. “shut up. she barely talks to you.” luke smiled, “well, when she’s with me we don’t do a lot of talking.” if looks could kill, luke would be a goner. “stop it.”

“bet i could catch her before you.”

“you’re slower than me let’s be realistic jackson.”’

“you wanna bet?”

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, knee-deep in the creek with either boy on each side of you. “will you just leave me alone? what is wrong with you!” luke’s face was cold, his grip on his sword was more than enough to make your heart race. “just come out and let me talk to you.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at percy’s words, “why would i? it looks like you wanna kill me!”

“no!” luke’s shouting caused you to stumble back, “i mean— i would never hurt you.” he took a step forwards as you pointed your spear, “stay back!” unfortunately, you’d been so busy fending off luke you’d forgotten about percy to your left. you screamed at the top of your lungs when his arms came around you.

“hey, quit it.” luke whispered as his hand came over your mouth. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you’d be damned if you went quietly, so you shook and writhed. trying your hardest to get away, and luke had a short temper when it came to you. his sword came across your head, knocking you out cold. “what the hell!” percy yelled as you went limp in his arms. “she’ll be fine, now let’s get going.”

as they walked with you, either one couldn’t help but think, when they’d get rid of the other.

[semetarydrve]

Our Little Secret

╭─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╮

CW: smut, light light wolfstar, threesome

Pairing: Remus x Reader x Sirius

WC: 1.9k

╰─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╯

You crept down the hall of the boy’s dormitory, checking over your shoulder to make sure you didn’t get caught. When you reached the door you knocked softly and waited. It opened to reveal Remus and he ushered you in quietly.

"Hey Remus.“ You said shrugging off your robe and tossing it on James bed. “Just us?” You said noticing the empty room around you.

“For a little yes. Everyone else went out to play Quidditch for a bit. How was your day?” He asked sitting on his bed, his eyes looking over your tiny sleeping shorts and skimpy tank top as you planted yourself next to him.

“Long day and I’m so tired but I got almost all of my course work that’s due finished. You?” You said reaching your arms above your head to stretch.

“Good on you. You do seem exhausted, would you like a back rub?” He offered innocently. You nodded.

“You know what that does sound nice, here let me lay down.” You said crawling to the head of the bed and laying on your stomach. Remus positioned himself above you and began working on your shoulders. His hands were warm and comforting, your body beginning to relax under his touch.

“As for my day it was just a lot of homework as well. I’m happy you stopped by though it always brightens my day.” He said slowly moving down to your lower back.

“Mmm you’re so sweet Rem.” You hummed, loosing focus as he began to work at your muscles. “Could you do my legs as well? Pretty please?”

“Well since you asked so nicely how could I say no.” He replied, moving down. His hands gently rubbed at the back of your lower thigh making its way up. Remus felt embarrassed, realizing he was semi hard from the close contact. It didn’t come as a surprise seeing as he’d found himself touching to the thought of you. His hands found their way to your upper thighs, his thumbs gently moving inward. You stayed quiet, feeling a little flutter in your stomach as his thumbs grazed over the thin fabric covering your cunt. It could have been an accident, but you wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t. You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t always had a deep attraction to each of the boys. Remus adjusted to get more comfy, his erection briefly pressing into your leg.

“Could you go a little higher?” You asked, feigning ignorance. He said a small yes and you moved to open your legs wider. He swallowed hard and started to move his hands closer to your pussy. The pad of his thumb brushed under your shorts, his eyes widened when he felt how wet you were. For a moment he paused, thinking carefully about his next actions. Almost as to help encourage him you arched your back ever so slightly, giving him better access. He took the opportunity and moved your shorts to the side, gently pushing his fingers inside. You moaned and gripped the sheets.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked nervously, realizing his lack of experience meant he wasn’t quite used to taking the lead.

“Do I have to beg?” You joked, rolling your hips back to signal he should speed up. Your consent made him feel at ease so he did as you wanted and began pleasuring you. “Oh my god Remus.” He looked on in awe, admiring your body.

“Can you lay on your back for me?” He asked withdrawing his fingers. You whined and flipped over.

“Why’d you stop I was getting close?” You protested as you sat up to face him.

“Because I’ve been waiting to do this.” He said before catching your lips in a needy kiss. You slowly laid back, pulling him down with you. He held himself up with one hand while the other found its place between your legs again. In an instant his fingers were back inside of you, working desperately to get you off. You moaned into his mouth and grabbed a fist of his hair to pull him back.

“Please give me head.” You said watching his face light up. Without stopping his movements he moved down to level himself with your core. He pulled the shorts farther to the side and inhaled deeply. You smelled heavenly. You jumped at the feeling of his tongue finding your clit, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. His tongue worked over the sensitive nub while his fingers curled in you. If you hadn’t been so engrossed in each other you might have heard the door open and shut, or the quiet ‘holy shit’ that fell from Sirius’ lips. He cleared his throat and you both shot up. Remus’ face flushed and you tried to stutter out an explanation. Sirius saw your faces and smirked.

“Oh no no. Don’t let me stop you. Seems like I’ve interrupted something.” He said casually kicking his shoes off and placing his things on his bed.

“I should go.” You said, face burning from embarrassment.

“I said continue.” Sirius said sitting on the bed closet to you. You and Remus looked between each other, both confused. “Oh don’t play coy Remus. Like we haven’t discussed this before.”

“Sirius not now-“

“Discussed what?” You asked cutting him off.

“About what we’d do to you if we ever got the chance.” He said casually. Your eyes widened, then darting to lock with Sirius’. His mouth was etched into a sly grin, seemly excited to finally tell you.

“Is that true Rem?” You asked turning back to him. He nodded meekly, afraid you’d be upset. To both of their surprise you reached out to palm Remus who was still aching to be touched. “Alright then. Show me what you guys talk about.” You said leaning in to kiss Remus again.

“That’s our girl.” Sirius said unbuckling his pants. You reached to do the same for Remus, freeing him from his confinements. You pulled away and gently laid him back, getting ready to give him head. As you leveled yourself with his cock you realized this might be a more difficult task than expected.

“Good God Remus you’re huge.” You exclaimed, earning a chuckle from both boys. Remus opened his mouth to answer but was cut short by the feeling of your tongue licking a thick stripe up the underside of his shaft. Sirius watched on quietly, slowly stroking himself at the sight. He figured it was best to give you two a moment to finish what you’d started. You inched your way down, only able to make it two thirds of the way down before he hit the back of your throat. You gagged and Remus groaned at the feeling. His hands tangled themselves in your hair to hold your head still while he started rocking his hips. You tried your best to breathe while he used your throat. A moan from Sirius encouraged you to keep going. Remus’ hips bucked and he pulled out of your mouth quickly.

“I was getting close. I’d like you to come to the edge of the bed.” He said breathlessly. You quickly got off him and got into position, resting your head to face Sirius. Remus wasted no time pulling down your shorts down and lining himself up. Sirius watched intently as your eyes rolled back, squealing from the feeling of Remus stretching you out. Once Remus had gotten as deep as he could he stayed still, giving you a moment to adjust. Then he began his slowly and steady strokes, grabbing your hips to keep you close. When Sirius saw a lazy smile on your face, lost in the feeling of his friend fucking you he decided it was time to join in. He stood up and stripped, finding his way behind Remus to look over you.

“You’re so gentle with her Lupin.“ He said snaking his arm around to grasp Remus’ throat. He shuddered at his touch. “Why don’t you go a little faster?” He suggested keeping his grip loose. Remus whimpered and obliged, snapping his hips forward and picking up his pace. You let out a loud moan and lifted your hips slightly to allow your hand to find your clit. Sirius leaned down to kiss Remus’ neck, suddenly tightening his hand around his throat. This drove him over the edge, his fingers digging into your skin as he started fucking you harder.

“Yes Remus right there!” You mewled, feeling your orgasm coming. Sirius parted from Remus just in time to look down and watch as you came. The sound of you calling his name sent him over the edge and he quickly pulled out, cum painting your backside. He slowly pulled out, Sirius turning him around to capture his lips in a kiss. You sat up and turned to looked back, having never known the extent of their relationship. ‘Makes sense’ you thought. Sirius broke away and turned to you. His hungry gaze raked over your body for a moment before he stepped forward. His presence was far more intense than Remus. He leaned down to kiss you.

“I need you to turn around for me.” He commanded. You nodded and quickly turned. Sirius guided you to lay face down ass up. The second he got into position he rammed his length into you. You yelped in surprise and lurched forward. Remus sat down next to you and gently pushed your hair from your face, his other hand wrapped around his cock. Sirius gripped your hips harshly and pinned you in place, unbothered by his friend’s cum coating his hands. He started thrusting, using you to pleasure himself. "You’re doing so good.“ He growled, unable to hold back. Your legs began to quake, still weak from the first round.

"You look so pretty (y/n).” Remus moaned. You just nodded weakly as Sirius brushed you g-spot again and again. He felt your walls getting tighter and chuckled.

“You’re gonna cum already?” Sirius teased.

“Mhm.” You moaned, beginning to rock your hips to meet him halfway.

“Ask for permission first.” Sirius replied.

“Huh?” You asked but as the last syllable left your mouth he brought his hand down to spank you.

“I said you need permission to cum.” He snarled, snapping his hips to thrust faster.

“May I please cum?” You begged, excited by the new experience.

“That’s better. Yes you can, but next time I won’t be so easy on you.” He purred. Remus stroked faster as he watched your legs give out. Sirius held you up to continue, feeling his own orgasm coming. He looked over to his friend and reached to caress his face. Remus eagerly moved forward to capture his lips. This was enough to help Sirius finish, hastily pulling out and cumming on the bed. His grip on you loosened and you let yourself collapse onto the bed, breathing hard.

For a moment you all sat without a word, just catching your breath. You broke the silence with a hearty laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Sirius asked lying down next to you looking up at the ceiling.

“Just wasn’t expecting this to ever happen.” You said rolling over to hug him. He pulled you close and kissed your forehead before you sat up.

“Me neither. Did you have fun?” Remus asked covering himself with a pillow. You nodded.

“Of course. So now what?” You asked looking back and forth between them.

“I don’t see why it has to be a one time thing.” Sirius said sitting up.

“It sure doesn’t.” You said with a cheeky smile. “I’d better get out of here and get cleaned up before everyone else gets back.” You said scooting forward and fixing your clothes. The boys saw you off and when they were finally alone they couldn’t help but recount the afternoon.

[ma1dita]

play pretend

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> said he likes crazy | next -> a wish your heart makes words: 5.1k (holy shit) summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader) a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm (posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )

—

There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.

Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.

It almost feels real. 

Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.

Your eyes pop open.

Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.

“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.

The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.

“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your Angelface and his Trouble. 

It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.

His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.

“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”

You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.

“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?” 

The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.

“Castellan.”

He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him. 

Idiot. 

Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.

“SISSY!!!” 

“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!” 

Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.

“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.

“Dunno Trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.

Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.

You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part. 

But that’s kind of the problem. 

Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke. 

Especially since it’s Luke.

His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.

“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”

Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.

What a way to go, you two.

“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!” 

You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back. 

Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound. 

You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window. 

He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.

“Seriously?” 

He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side. 

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.

This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.

Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.

“Kid, what the hell? You sick?” 

Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy. 

He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.

Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.

—

Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.

Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.

And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.

Being in love sure feels like it is.

The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.

Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.

Could he actually want more? 

The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.

“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling. 

All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.

“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.

You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.

It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability. 

And who would want to love someone so difficult? 

Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.

“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”

Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.

“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.

“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”

Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.

Does everyone know? 

Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck. 

Fuck. 

“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape. 

Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”

Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.

It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.

—

It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.

He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other). 

“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”

Well… you have a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).

A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.

“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.

“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”

“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.

“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”

There’s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on. 

“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.

For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.

It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).

—

Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“Good evening, um…sir.”

“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”

Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).

“Are you drunk?”

Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.

“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.

There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”

“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not Trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father. 

“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”

“What?”

“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.

“Oh.”

“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.

Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.

“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.

“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….” 

There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent. 

It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.

“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”

“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”

Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.

“You should tell her that more often, sir.”

“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act needy if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”

“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”

Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.

“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”

“What bet?”

Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.

“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…” 

“I’d die before that happens, sir.”

“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.

—

“I know you’re still awake, Trouble.”

You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.

“I thought I closed that window,” you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.

“You didn’t.”

Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.

“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.

“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.

“What the fuck?”

“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”

“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.

“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.

There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.

His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.

“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”

His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.

“You’re my best friend, Angelface,” you mumble.

Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.

Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”

The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.

“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”

Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder. 

“You think I’m not scared of us either, Trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”

“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.

“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.

You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.

—

Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).

—

“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt

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