#and no one else is looking out for me or able to catch me if i fall!!!

[froggiewrites]

May I request some Luffy smut? Maybe including some aphrodisiac of some kind or influence from a devil fruit- I don't mind! I'd just love to see your ideas

I am SO sorry this has taken so long, thank you to everyone who's sent in requests for being so patient. Life has been kicking my ass this month so badly I haven't even been able to read any fanfic, let alone write it. Fingers crossed that the end of November is kinder than the beginning!

I'm really excited to have finally finished this request, I'm a big sucker for sex pollen/aphrodisiac stuff so this was really fun for me! Also, this was my first time writing for Luffy, so I hope I did him justice!

Need

Pairing: Luffy x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You find your Captain in dire need of a little help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't provide? Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Vaginal Sex Word Count: 1.8k

You should have known something was wrong when the ship was quiet. The Thousand Sunny is never quiet. There’s always the sound of clashing metal, of excited voices, of a song dancing its way across the deck. But you don’t hear a single noise outside of your door, nor do you see anyone as you pad your way outside. 

You knew that you were docking soon, that your crew would leave to explore the island, but you didn’t expect them to leave without waking you up. You had been on night watch last night, so you certainly needed the rest, but you’re not used to them not at least momentarily waking you to let you know where everyone’s going.

Your surprise and confusion only grows as you hear someone crashing through the brush, and you see your Captain emerge, sprinting precariously toward the ship as though he’s being chased.

“Luffy?”

He doesn’t answer as he continues to rush forward, launching himself up onto the Sunny. Luffy stumbles onto the deck, teetering dangerously towards the railing. Before you can rush to catch him, his back hits the wood, and he lowers himself to the ground, legs splayed out. You can’t even tell if he can see you until he murmurs your name. He’s dripping with sweat, his face red.

You kneel down between his legs, leaning forward to try to get a good look at him. You can’t see any visible injuries, but clearly something is horribly wrong. “Are you okay, Luff?”

“No.” His voice is nothing but a whine, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Need…something.”

“Something?”

Luffy glances around, pout on his face. “Something. Dunno what.”

You reach out to rest your hand on his forehead, which is burning so hot you almost pull it back in shock. He leans into your touch, giving off a soft hum. “You have a fever. Do you know what happened to you?”

“Nothing happened. We were all exploring, and we split into groups, and then…hm…I ate that fruit Zoro picked.”

Oh god. Zoro’s not exactly a botanist, or a survivalist, and for a single moment you believe with every fiber of your being that your dear friend has accidentally poisoned your captain. “What kind of fruit was it?”

“I dunno. It was sweet. And red.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t narrow it down at all. God, you would think that eating one mystery fruit in your life would be enough for you.”

His indignation beats out his discomfort for just a moment. “The first one went really well.”

You guess you can’t argue with that. “Can you remember anything else about it? We can rule out any devil fruit since you haven’t…exploded.”

“It was warm. And it made me wanna come find you.”

That makes you pause. “It…made you want to find me? Like specifically me?”

“Yeah.”

You have a bad feeling about this. “Do you know why you wanted me?”

He squints in concentration. “To…make it better.”

“How?”

He grabs your hand and places it back on his face. The sound he makes is borderline erotic. “Like this. This helps.”

The warmth against your hand, the moan that escapes your captain, the tent you can see growing in his pants, it all starts painting a very troubling picture. A very tempting one, but troubling nonetheless. “Luffy, are you warm anywhere in particular?”

“My stomach. And lower.” He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face in your neck. His nose nuzzles against you, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and sighing. His hands gently massage against your hips, reveling in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against you. You clench your thighs involuntarily, a move you hope he doesn’t notice.

“You’re—ahh!” One of his hands moves up to your breast, squeezing your breast through your shirt, and he moans again at your squeak. “You’re not in your right mind, Luffy! I think that fruit was—ah!” His hand slides beneath your shirt, then your bra, and finally he pinches your nipple. 

“Come closer.” His voice is thick as he pulls you onto his lap. “I think this is fixing it. Feels nice.” He jerks his hips, and you can feel his hardness rub against you. You try to keep your moan inside of your mouth, but when you do, he huffs, and ruts into you harder.

“Luffy!”

He grins. “That’s better.” As his hand begins to slide down the front of your pants you finally come to your senses and grab it, stopping him in his tracks. He blinks at you, a little clarity coming back to his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You–you’re clearly under the influence of something, and I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want–”

“I want it.” The hand slides slowly down further. His voice grows hungrier, more desperate. “I need it.”

With the way he’s looking at you, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed, you believe him.

“Well if you really need it, I’d hate to deprive you, Captain.”

He grins, and before you know it, you’re pinned to the deck, your shirt and bra removed, Luffy’s teeth pressing insistently against your chest. He shoves his hand unceremoniously between your legs, making a small noise of satisfaction against you when you squeal. His fingers slide against your clothed clit, sending a shiver up your spine and slowly building the heat in your gut. He hums quietly, “It’s wet.” He looks up at you. “For me?”

You flush, before nodding quickly. You can’t bring yourself to look at him out of fear you’ll combust. You can see the sweat sliding down the muscles in his arms and chest, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he pants. He looks even better than you’d ever dreamed, his eyes radiating a hunger than you never expected to be directed at you.

He quickly slides down your pants and underwear in a single motion, and in your surprise you press your thighs together, shielding yourself from him. He practically growls, “Stop that. Wanna taste.”

He pries your thighs apart, diving into you with the same enthusiasm he does everything else. His tongue laps at you with reckless abandon as he sloppily takes everything you’ll give him. His hands pull you impossibly closer, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth explores. When you moan, he laughs against you, the rumble of it spreading across your sensitive skin and making your thighs tense around his head. You worry you’ll suffocate him, drown him, but he doesn’t seem to mind losing to you.

You can feel the tension building in your body, your legs shaking as you come closer and closer to your peak. Your hands grip the grass beneath you, one second away from ripping it out of the deck entirely. Some part of you is hyper aware of the fact you are out in the open, where anybody could see or hear, but the rest of you is lost in the pleasure of the moment, in the feeling of your Captain’s tongue against you. So you don’t try to stop your back from arching as your climax grows nearer, nor do you make any attempt to hold back your cry as you cum on your Captain’s face.

He pulls away from you, his face dripping, his pupils blown out, and his lips upturned into a dazed smile. You can’t bring yourself to look away as he slowly licks his lips, savoring every drop of you. Without a word, his mouth crashes into yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. His hands roughly force down his pants, exposing his weeping cock to the cold air. He lets out a borderline whimper of relief against your lips, before pulling back just long enough to whisper, “Get ready.”

“Lu–ah!” He thrusts into you in one smooth stroke as his lips once again insistently press against yours, stealing your breath away. You can feel every inch of him as your body welcomes him in, clenching around his length. He moans into your mouth, the sound deep and wanton. He gives both of you little time to adjust before his hips are rocking, chasing the release he’s been so desperate for. He’s moving so quickly you’re surprised he was patient enough to even wait this long. His hands are borderline bruising on your hips, his teeth clacking against yours as your kiss grows rougher and rougher, as your dear friend and Captain pounds into you with the fervor of an animal in heat. 

You can feel his muscles tense under your fingers as you pull him tighter. His breaths grow more ragged with every moment, and as he finally pulls away from your kiss you get to see the beautiful sight of the dam breaking as Luffy finally cums. His face is filled with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and affection as he gives a final few thrusts, your own climax coming not soon after. He collapses on top of you, and the weight is more comforting than crushing, though it steals your breath away anyway.

“I was right.” His voice is sleepy and slow, and you can’t help but picture the faces of your friends as they find you stripped bare and pinned to the deck below your Captain. Sanji might have a breakdown.

“Right about what?”

“I needed you. You fixed it.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your head affectionately, and he places a comically loud smooch on your forehead.

“So you’re all cured?”

“Ye–” He hums, and you can see an idea take him as his face scrunches up and his eyes shift away. “No. I think we’ll need to do this again.”

You can’t keep the smile out of your voice as you respond. “Oh yeah? How many more times, do you think?”

“I dunno. A lot. It could take a while.”

You laugh. “You know, I think we can do this as many times as it takes.”

He lets out an overjoyed laugh. “Awesome!”

“But first we should get inside before anyone else gets back. I don’t really want them to see me like this.”

He nods, quickly scooping you up and carrying you in the direction of his cabin. Before you can say anything else, you hear the voices of your crew coming closer, and you quietly urge him to rush.

You only get a moment of relief before you hear Zoro’s confused voice.

“Whose clothes are these?”

Your panic is quickly overshadowed by Luffy’s booming laugh rumbling through his chest, spreading the same infectious joy that he always does. The embarrassment is worth it, just to hear such a wonderful sound.

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 11

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: i have returned with another, not-so-interesting part. i apologize to those who might have asked to be tagged previously, i *think* i have everyone now! but again, pls feel free to yell at me in my askbox if i didnt get you! the next part is gonna be way more fun, promise :) trying to bring in more of our jjk favs (including our baby boy toru)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9, pt.10,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Monday

“Kento, are you stupid or dumb?” Haibara coldly spits through the phone. “You have what, like 5 days? My god, where is your brain dude?” 

“I’m a businessman,” Nanami responds, with shaky sighs escaping from between his lips as he enters the lobby of their job. “I made a deal, and she accepted the terms. When have I ever lost a deal?” 

“This all could have been avoided if you just said the other shit you told me,” Haibara groaned. “How she’s pretty, and the way you are able to open up to her.” 

Nanami lets out his own sigh, as his friend was probably right. “She… made me nervous. I only know how to be professional and talk in working terms. I’m not good at anything else.” 

“And now she’s pissed off, so fantastic work, Head of Department,” Haibara says before sucking his teeth. 

Nanami walks into the elevator, one hand buried in his pocket while the other holding his phone tiredly at his ear. A few other colleagues enter, giving Nanami a curt bow before pressing their floor button. “Is she in yet, by the way?” Nanami asks, a twinge of optimism in his tongue. 

“Of course she is,” Haibara hummed, the sounds of papers being sifted in the background. “She even asked for me to get your cup of coffee since she’s in a meeting right now.” 

Nanami’s eyebrow raised, “meeting?” 

Haibara murmurs a ‘hold on,’ the only sound to be heard was Haibara walking past several cubicles and work conversations. After finding a quiet place, Haibara brings the phone close to his mouth while cupping it with his other hand, “she’s in a meeting with shacho. ‘m not sure what it’s about, but he went to her desk the moment she clocked in.” 

What? “Did it seem like she was in trouble?” Nanami questions, his heart skipping a beat or two. 

Haibara shrugs, “‘m not sure, but I think it has to do with her promotion. Shacho mentioned it during the client lunch the other day, remember?” 

“That’s right,” Nanami lets out slowly, recalling that day in his head. That day, your usually tidy hair had a small lock of it sticking out from behind your ear. That same day is why Nanami wishes for hindsight almost constantly. “I wonder…” 

“Right?” Haibara whispers curiously. “Whatever promotion she gets, she earned it for sure.” 

The elevator doors open, and Nanami quickly rushes into the office. “Meet me in front of Takada shacho’s office.” 

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right there!” Haibara calls out. Nanami turns around to see his dark-haired partner behind him, sheepishly waving his phone in the air. Nanami hangs up and walks up to him, curious of his intentions. “You’re gonna owe me about $150 after this.” 

Nanami looks around before getting close to Haibara’s. A few strands of blond hair escape Nanami’s usually kempt hair. “What the hell did you buy?” He whispers, practically hisses. 

Albeit his nerves, Haibara looks up at him with a smirk, “when have I ever let you down, Kento?” 

“Never, but you best not start today,” Nanami growls, pulling away before making a quick stride over to Takada’s office. 

As he did, he noticed many of his colleagues peer curiously from their cubicle over to Takada’s office as well, with other eyes peering at your own desk for your return. A sea of whispers then started to surround Nanami as everyone noticed his arrival. Quiet, respectful greetings and curt bows create the aura around him as Nanami nods in acknowledgement. It was all just too curious for Nanami, as he felt the itch to know what he didn’t. 

But he could swear his eyes were deceiving him when he saw the backs of both Geto and Ieiri. 

“Geto, Ieiri,” Nanami addresses them in a firm, yet soft tone. 

Geto is first to turn, his long raven hair flowing from his movement. He usually had the top part of his hair bunned, but he decided to let his entire mane out today. Peculiar, Nanami mentally noted. It was also peculiar that Geto himself had a large bouquet of winter white lilies. “Kento,” Geto begins, a warm yet deceitful smile is pulled from each end of his lips. He offers his free hand, in which Nanami reluctantly shakes. 

Nanami has no issues with Geto, of course. All of them went to school together, Shoko and Haibara included. There has never been, and will never be, any beef between the two gentlemen. Of course, Nanami felt hesitant with him now, considering Geto hired you initially, and you were now under Nanami. There was a sudden and inexplicable feeling within the hazel-eyed man. Nanami was… nervous. 

Geto’s obsidian orbs weren’t helping with that, either. 

“Why so formal?” Ieiri sounded from his right side, pulling him out of his locked gaze with Geto. Nanami snatches his hand back, and quickly offers it to Ieiri, who teasingly just shakes the tips of his fingers. Her free hand held a small red box with a gold ribbon tied around it. “It’s been a little while, Kento. You never come up to visit.” 

“It’s because I work,” Nanami hums, letting her hand go to shove both his hands in his pockets. He needed some sort of solid ground, and his pockets felt safe. “And so do you both, considering we’re all department heads here.” 

“That we are,” Geto hums, “it has been quite crazy in Legal, considering how many clients the both of you have been pulling in.” 

Ieiri stows away a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear, gently lowering the cigarette she had hidden. “Sales has been quite crazy,” Ieiri said slowly, “hence why I’m down here. ‘m looking for my girl that you snatched from me.” 

Nanami squints his eyes, staring Ieiri down. But after realizing her words, his eyes slightly widened, “do you, by any chance, know what her promotion is about then?” He looks over at Geto as well, silently extending that question to him. 

Ieiri widened her eyes in confusion, with Geto raising his eyebrow in curiosity. “You… don’t know?” Geto asks, each word burned off his tongue in humor. 

Nanami was annoyed from not knowing, “I don’t if I’m asking. Why would I know?”

Ieiri taps at her bottom lip with the tip of her index, “well, you are her manager. You’d be the one that Takada shacho would talk to regarding Y/N’s growth within the company.” 

It did raise curiosity that Takada would mention Y/N’s promotion aloud in front of him and clients that have no relevance. But, Nanami did have some expectation to talk about your future promotion with Takada, whatever that would pertain. It felt somewhat like betrayal, considering how much Takada confided in him. Nanami could only hope it was with right intentions that he was not included in his assistant's promotion. 

“I have no say in how he makes his decisions,” Nanami’s eyes narrow at the door before them. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to calm his nerves. “I can only hope it is a promotion that is to her liking.” 

“I can give you a hint if you want,” Ieiri teases with a toothy grin. Geto clutches the bouquet a little tighter as she piques Nanami’s interest. He looks over to her, noticing her adjusting her long, black dress. She pulls off pieces of lint, torturing him purposely with the wait. “I heard a rumor that… this promotion is a role that is above all of ours.” 

Nanami, at the moment, was beyond proud of you. He couldn’t even conceal his smile, feeling pangs of excitement in his heart. He was glad that you were seen exactly the way he sees you. Intelligent, capable, overachieving, and approachable. You work with such grace, and exude so much warmth as a person. You getting promoted to a position much greater than his is truly an honor. He was lucky to have a small role in your success, if you considered his significance. 

“But supposedly she will still reside within one of our departments,” Geto hums quietly. Nanami gives him a look, but Geto shrugs, “that’s all I know.” 

Nanami’s smile calmed, “I don’t see the need for her to transfer out of Finance, though.” 

“Is that right?” Geto questions with a smirk. “You have your department completely sorted, besides how nosey they are.” The three heads look back to see all of his colleagues eye them like fish, having them awkwardly turn back to their work. “What help is needed here?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nanami replies, an accidental hint of offense weaved in his words. “Just know that her skill set would be best utilized and appreciated here.” 

Geto’s smirk still played tricks in Nanami’s head, “and yet she applied and was initially hired for Legal. She was first recognized and utilized for her skill set in the Legal Department.” 

“She clearly is a woman of many talents, considering her contribution to all of our departments,” Nanami points out. He adjusts his tie, and sweeps his hair back in a more tidy manner. “She has done wonders for my department, and I intend to keep her flourishing here.” 

“I hope you boys didn’t forget that I’m here, too,” Ieiri pipes in, slightly annoyed at being ignored. “Nonetheless, it’s not about us. It’s about where she would like to go, and where Takada shacho believes where her role would be best fit.” 

After her words, the three hear frantic running from behind. Nanami turns around to see two bouquets of white roses make their way towards them. They were large, almost the size of two small bedside tables. The person halts, with staggering breaths emitting from the bouquets. Nanami notices the hair just barely sticking out from the top and knew right away that it was his closest friend, Haibara. 

“Nanami,” Haibara spews simply, forcing the two bouquets into his arms. The scent of florals intoxicated Nanami’s nose as he looked over the bouquets at his exhausted friend. “Looks like.. I made it right on time,” he lets out through sporadic, heavy breaths. From the corner of Nanami’s eye, Geto looked slightly annoyed at the fact that he was slightly one-upped. 

Before Nanami could even express his gratitude, the click of an unlocking door sounded from behind him. They all look over to see Takada shacho with a wide smile. To his right, you stood there, your body completely stiff from nerves. Nanami could tell that, despite everything, you still looked at him with those eyes, finding some sort of solace in them. 

Takada jumped a bit, humored at the sight of 3 of his Head of Departments. “Well, good morning to you all,” their boss hums heartily. All of them, including Haibara, bow. “I haven’t seen you 3 together since last year's Holiday Party. The only person we’re missing here is Satoru.” 

Satoru Gojo, the Head of IT. 

Geto nods, “they’ve been quite busy since changing the system for our company hub.” 

Takada nods, “I need to go visit them soon. See if there’s any relief I can send to their department. Speaking of…” Takada then moves away from you and allows you the spotlight. “Everyone, please turn your attention here.” 

You felt your nerves right at your throat. Though this was a good thing, you were never a fan of being front and center of anything. You always had stage fright, surely since you were younger. Having the attention and eyes of many was something you could never get used to, even now in your adult life. Nanami could see you remaining frigid while expressing a sheepish smile. 

As Takada begins to congratulate you on your new role as Office Manager, Nanami quickly walks up to you and puts the two bouquets in your hand. Although it was sudden and the bouquets held some weight to them, it provided a shield from your fellow colleagues staring at you. Nobody questioned it as claps and quiet cheers erupted in the office. 

You noticed Nanami standing firmly to your side, smiling at everyone while gently nudging you with his arm. You look up at him, uncertainty glimmering in your eyes. He mouths a silent ‘congratulations’ with a very wide and proud smile. You knew he was going to ask you about it later, but right now, it felt nice to just get a simple praise. It was the one bit of calmness within the chaotic sounds of claps and praises. 

“I hope everyone can join me in wishing Y/N much luck in her deserved promotion,” Takada announces, causing the crowd to quiet down. Praises continued to stream, but you could barely pay attention as you stared up at Nanami’s hazel eyes. But you did get interrupted by Ieiri’s hand latching onto your forearm. You look ahead to meet the eyes of both of your previous bosses. 

While anxiously holding onto the bouquets, you quickly bowed before the both of them, “a-ah, Ieiri kacho, Geto kacho! It is wonderful to see you both!” 

“And we you, Y/L/N,” Geto hums with a soft tone. “Many congratulations on your promotion. May your transition be as perfect as your work ethic.” 

You bow once again, attempting to find calm in Haibara’s frantic thumbs up shaking in the background. “Thank you very much… I would have never been able to even get here without you, Geto kacho.” 

Geto emits a hearty laugh before grinning, “you said it first.” 

Ieiri promptly shoves him a bit, smiling down at you, “why don’t we all have celebratory breakfast?” Ieiri looks over at Takada with a pearly smile. “Can Y/N delay her work so she can celebrate her monumental accomplishment with us?” 

Takada smiles before nodding, “please, feel free to take your time. I’d love to join you all, but my entire schedule is booked with meetings. Enjoy in my absence. And again, congratulations, Y/N.” 

They all bow before Takada, who takes his leave back into his office. A brief silence ensues before Geto goes up to you and begins to take the bouquets from your arms. “A-ah, Geto kacho, you don’t have to,” you insist, attempting to keep them in your arms. “You are already carrying one yourself.” 

Before Geto could even advance, Nanami quickly holds your elbow and tilts you so you’d be facing him. Without another second, he takes back the two bouquets from your arms. “Let me carry them for you, Y/N kacho,” Nanami says quietly. 

Your heart melts. Your mind was going blank. You could vomit from excitement, anxiety, and enchantment from Nanami’s teasing. “Th-thank you, Nanami kacho,” you say shyly, feeling your cheeks erupt in heat. 

“I’m no longer your kacho,” Nanami quickly spews, “feel free to drop that honorific for me.” There was something brewing in those hazel eyes, and you were left to wonder what goes on behind those beautiful orbs.

Taglist (OPEN)

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

@gradmacoco @nymphsdomain @whatelsecouldgowrong @myynameisbuckyy @nanamjai

@a-sor @typicalchels @celestialzdiviner @satoru-is-the-way @sannieworshipper

@shibataimu

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Three-Month Rule.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: The first time you decide to skip the celebration and go to bed early, and the first time Spencer decides to drink and open his heart to you after knowing you're leaving for three months.

Words: 5,5k (very long).

TW: fem!reader. spencer from the first seasons with glasses meow (my fav)+also he is a little drunk and lovesick puppy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: These two are probably one of my favorites, this felt so warm to write and before you ask, yep, I've been thinking about a part two (maybe even more, who knows).

♡ Enjoy! ♡

I. Moonlight ⏾

The night after closing a case with a positive outcome often involved celebratory drinks and lengthy discussions about everyday topics. For you and your colleagues, it was a rare opportunity for relaxation. It was a way to temporarily distance yourselves from the challenging situations you had encountered. A great way to relieve stress.

Typically, you would choose to remain in the chair situated in the center of the bar and sip your drink at a leisurely pace, allowing it to last all night as you chatted and shared lighthearted banter about various topics, though you would never discuss work. You were always smiling, as if nothing unfortunate had ever happened. And you always looked beautiful, so distant and impossible to catch.

Spencer always looked at you, biting his tongue to keep from sputtering out all the words that struggled to come out every time his eyes fell on yours. He didn't even take a sip of the drinks that were offered to him. As a rule, he didn't drink alcohol at all, and he liked it even less when he knew it could affect how he saw you. So clearly. So real. As if you were the most amazing work of art he'd ever seen, even if he wasn't very familiar with art.

Tonight, sadly, everything was different.

He had not been able to indulge in that particular pleasure of admiring you because you had chosen to return to your room rather than stay with the rest of the team at the hotel bar. It was a lie to say that it had not caught his attention. You had always stayed, even for a glass of water. But now you were...away from everyone. And then he was too.

The time passed rather quickly after he had a couple of sips of different fruity cocktails, which he didn't think would have any effect. Spencer was very mistaken. He found himself walking to the elevator before he had a chance to think things through. It didn't take him long to reach your hotel room. His footsteps were soft but urgent enough to go to the outside of the door. He just wanted to see you, needed to see you, and was already anxious about the reason why he wasn't allowed to do it now.

His knuckles knocked softly on your door with a certain caution, as quietly as possible, but just loud enough for you to hear, as he did his best to keep everyone else from hearing it as well. His hair was slightly disheveled, his glasses were out of place, and the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his collarbones underneath.

“It's me. Reid.” He spoke just loud enough to be heard through the door, his voice slightly raspy but still as soft as ever. “Can I talk to you?”

The sound of his call echoed too loudly inside the empty hotel room. Everything in the place was silent, still, with no lights or air conditioning. The room was almost dark, except for the streaks of city lights filtering through the curtains that ran over the large windows. You had been lying quietly and staring at the ceiling for no more than a minute and thirty seconds, your eyes blank and fixed on the ceiling after waking up so suddenly.

You gradually rose to a seated position and proceeded to the door. Without hesitation, you opened it to find his eyes filled with concern.

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” Your voice was a little hoarse, and your eyes were still adjusting to the bright light in the hallway.

“I'm fine,” he replied, barely looking at your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy. He hadn't realized how late it was. “Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”

Yes, of course. It was two o'clock in the morning.

You couldn’t hide the frown of confusion. It was late—far too late for a casual check-in—and yet here he was, standing before you with an air of unease that was so unlike him. “Don’t worry. What’s up?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to mask your concern.

Thousands of ideas crossed your mind at that moment. Maybe there was a new case, some new clue that would have reopened the four-day investigation that had just ended a few hours ago, or who knows what. The job was as unpredictable as your coworkers.

“I…” Reid’s words faltered before he even began, as if his thoughts were racing far ahead of him. His eyes flitted between you and the hallway, but he couldn’t seem to find the courage to make sense of his feelings, let alone speak them aloud. The alcohol was doing little to help his clarity of thought. It had been a few small sips; he had convinced himself, but now it was doing its work on his resolve. He was here. And he couldn’t walk away. “I was just…that.”

That's when you noticed something: he seemed a little off-balance, with a subtle flush on his cheeks and a lingering smell of alcohol. “Are you under the influence of alcohol, Dr. Reid?”

Oh. Oh. Oh.

If he was surprised to see you so sleepy, he got even more surprised by that question and by how close you've gotten to him. His eyes slightly widened at the close proximity between you both, his mouth slightly agape, and his brain almost completely frozen for a moment, before he shook his head quickly as an attempt to pull himself together. He cleared his throat before speaking, his words stumbling and incoherent.

“What? No, no, I’m not drunk.” He stammered, shaking his head as though trying to convince himself. “I just took a sip.”

Just a sip, two or three, after mentally rereading that ridiculous article about love he had read in one of the magazines in the lobby. The one that made him think about you and how you made him feel, the same one that revolutionized his emotions and his rational part to the point that he drank out of the wrong glass all night long.

“I see.”

Your gaze seemed to linger on his disheveled hair, unbuttoned shirt, mismatched glasses, and the subtle hint of color in his cheeks. You arched an eyebrow in response and took a small step forward to examine his face more closely. This was a version of him you were not entirely familiar with because Spencer Reid wasn’t a drinker.

“You seem a little nervous and flushed. Are you sure you're not drunk?” You asked with concern, noticing his demeanor.

Reid had to suppress a shiver when you moved even closer, nearly reducing his entire nervous system to a puddle of goo. He was incredibly aware of your proximity, like his brain had suddenly become hyperfocused on your existence and every move you made.

“Ah…y-yes, I'm s-sure I’m not-” He stuttered the words, feeling like a complete mess of nerves.

Something feels wrong…different.

You stepped forward, your eyes narrowing in on him, still uncertain but unwilling to leave him in such an odd state. “You’re sweating,” you observed quietly. “Come in. Sit on the bed. I have water.”

Without giving him the chance to refuse, you turned and walked into the room, leaving the door open for him to follow. He didn't even have a chance to react before he found himself inside your room, feeling like he was in a whole different world. Even though he was familiar with the space, as his room was exactly the same, somehow yours felt more comfortable and cozy.

Spencer followed you to the bedside table, still feeling a bit shaky. The scent of your perfume and the quiet of the room made him a bit nervous, but before he could say anything, you offered him a glass.

“Thanks.” He said, taking the water and sitting on the edge of the bed.

As he sat down, the bed sagged slightly under his weight, and he felt a surge of nervousness. Being alone with you in your hotel room suddenly felt incredibly intimate, and he found himself taking small sips of water to keep himself grounded. The drink was refreshing, but it didn't do much to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest. He avoided looking at your figure standing in front of him, focusing instead on the glass in his hands, fidgeting and nervously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, I have to ask now. You showed up at my door out of nowhere, looking like you'd just run a marathon, flushed like a tomato, and reeking of alcohol to boot.” You said, sitting down on the bed next to him. “So what brings you exactly here?” Your voice seemed to ring in his ears.

You. Only you. Forever you.

“I, uh, I came here to...I came here to...talk. I wanted to talk.” He managed to stammer, his eyes fixed on the glass of water.

“To...talk?” You repeated, your voice bringing back his attention. He suddenly felt tongue-tied, like he forgot everything he wanted to say right then and there. “About what?”

You, again.

Reid fiddled nervously, bouncing his leg up and down, and he suddenly felt the urge to pull at his shirt, feeling his skin too warm and overheating under his clothes. Why did it suddenly feel so hot in there, in your hotel room? He found himself unable to maintain eye contact again, but this time he found bravery in the depths of his mind and he managed to speak.

“I, uh…” He paused for a moment, his words becoming shaky. “I just...I just wanted to talk about you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that answer. But before you could say anything, Spencer spoke again as his thoughts burst out unfiltered.

“You’ve been quiet. I mean, since the case, and you left the bar early. You’ve been...different, sort of...I mean, not different-” His stammering was cut off by a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He was rambling, and he knew it; he could feel how warm he was under the heat of your gaze, but he couldn’t stop his words from coming out. “I heard about the job offer in New York that you've accepted.”

In that moment, you frowned, confused by the drama that perhaps the influence of alcohol in his system was bringing. The job offer was more of an internship than anything else, something temporary, just for three months, not a permanent change of scenery. But for some reason, hearing his words made your heart sink.

You hadn't really expected anyone on the team to be so affected by your leaving for a while; everyone seemed too wrapped up in their own business to wish you anything more than a good trip. After all, the world didn't stop spinning, and serial killers didn't stop killing because you weren't around. You didn't consider yourself that indispensable.

“I just, I don't know...” He mumbled, rubbing his face again, tired of his own thoughts. “I just...I feel like...I might miss you a lot.”

His eyes closed for a split second in fear, but then he looked at you and saw that you were smiling.

“You really drank quite a lot today.” Your tone was gentle as you carefully adjusted his glasses and took the empty glass from his hands. He hadn't even noticed that he had already finished all the water.

The feeling of your fingers on his glasses made his brain buzz for a moment, and he found himself wishing it would last for just a few seconds more. But then the glass was gone, and he was left there fidgeting with his hands.

“I know.” He muttered weakly, feeling the heat and alcohol taking a toll on him. His mind felt foggy, his thoughts swirling around and getting more tangled by the second. “But that’s besides the point.”

“Spencer, you’re being impulsive and emotional.” You said it bluntly, leaning forward slightly. “You were drinking earlier; you're all sweaty, and you're rambling. That's what alcohol does to you…you get overly reactive.”

His gaze shifted to the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed as he let out a shaky breath. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I am being impulsive and stupid, but…it doesn’t make it any less true.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you. There was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard, like he was peeling back layers you hadn’t seen before. You studied him for a moment—the disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under some invisible weight. This wasn’t the person you were used to—the analytical, composed genius who always seemed to have an answer for everything. This was someone raw, someone caught between logic and emotion, struggling to make sense of it all.

“I’m sure you’re incapable of being stupid,” you offered lightly, your tone tinged with a gentle tease, hoping to pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.

His head lifted, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I think I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a single breath, unpolished but heavy with sincerity.

Your heart stopped for a beat, your breath catching in your throat. “Oh.”

His confession hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the words settling like a weight in the room. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, as if realizing the enormity of what he’d just said, but there was no taking it back now. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he awaited your response, his vulnerability laid bare.

“You can be stupid, then.” You say it in a kind of joking tone, trying to process.

Does he love you? The same person you were afraid to touch so much for fear of making him uncomfortable. The same one who looked at you funny when you tried to fall asleep on the jet after drinking too much tea and said incoherent things. The one who always questioned your words with his statistics and exact data. Does he really love you? Can he do it?

It was impossible. Completely impossible.

“You’re a little too drunk to be saying things like that now,” you added gently, a note of concern creeping into your voice.

Carefully, you stood up, moving closer to him, your heart softening as you saw the way his fingers gripped the bed. He looked like he was already treading on the edge of something, but you weren’t sure he was in the right state to navigate it.

His brows furrowed slightly, a conflicted look crossing his face. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, though his words slurred slightly, and his eyes seemed unfocused. He shifted slightly but his balance was off, and his hand wavered as he reached for the glass that had once held water, only to stop and let it fall back onto the bedside table.

“No, you’re not,” you said softly, taking a step closer and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His warmth was comforting, but it only made you more aware of how fragile he seemed at that moment. “You’re exhausted, and you’ve had too much to drink. You need rest.”

He tried to look at you, his gaze unfocused and blurry. “I don’t want to sleep…not yet. I want to…I want to stay awake with you.” His voice faltered, as if the words were fighting to stay coherent. “Forever with you.”

Did you hear that right? He said…? Really?

“You’re not going to stay awake all night,” you say, talking firmly but kindly. You could see the drunkenness in his eyes, and you knew he needed more than just a glass of water or a few minutes to collect his thoughts. “And you’re staying here for sleep.”

His lips parted in confusion, but you didn't give him a chance to argue. You led him to the bed, supporting him as he swayed slightly. He was too drunk to protest in that moment. Then, you helped him lie down, adjusting the pillows behind him so that he was comfortable. And you also took the time to remove his glasses and shoes, placing them on the bedside table and the floor.

“I’m fine,” he murmured again, but this time it was barely audible, and his eyes were fluttering closed as he relaxed into the bed, his breath evening out. He was fighting sleep, but the weight of his exhaustion was too much for him to push back any longer.

After a brief period of reflection, you sit on the edge of the bed and observe him as he moves slightly. His face appears relaxed, and the tension from before seems to have dissipated. However, there is still a subtle vulnerability in his demeanor: open, unprotected, and exposed in a way you had never seen him before. This only serves to deepen your desire to care for him.

You gently reached over, tucking the covers around him and brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. “You’re too drunk to be making big decisions tonight, genius,” you whispered softly.

His eyelids fluttered open for a moment, his bleary eyes locking onto yours with a faint sense of clarity. “I didn’t…mean to make you uncomfortable,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “I care about you.”

A small smile appeared on your face, your heart aching as you brushed another strand of hair from his forehead. “I know,” you whispered.

His hand reached up weakly, grazing your wrist before falling back to the bed. He blinked a few times, his words coming slower now, as though the weight of sleep was already pulling him under. “I care about you so much,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, as though he were fading away in the middle of his confession.

You let out a gentle sigh, your thumb brushing his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “I care about you too,” you said, your voice calm but filled with warmth, though you kept your tone soft to keep him relaxed. “But right now, you just need to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about all of this, okay?”

Spencer nodded weakly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Okay...” He murmured, his breathing muffled even more as his body relaxed on the bed and his gaze rested on you, on every feature of your face. “I think you're very pretty, and not just physically by genetics...you're very, very pretty. I could look at you forever, even if, technically, forever doesn't exist for humans.”

At any moment, your heart would leap out of your chest, or you'd probably vomit butterflies. It was too much sweetness in a Spencer way.

You remained by his side, sitting on the edge, keeping watch over him for a few moments. It felt strange, being so close to him in this way. You hadn’t expected this moment, hadn’t expected his confession.

But for tonight, all you could do was let him rest and let him find peace in his sleep. You brushed one last strand of hair away from his face, then, with a soft sigh, you stood and pulled the blankets up around him.

The silence of the room enveloped you as you settled into bed, careful not to disturb him. You remained seated for a moment, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, his features softened by sleep. In the darkness, Spencer seemed different, more fragile, more human. His usual confidence in every word that came out of his mouth, the brilliant mind that made him so formidable, gave way to something more tender.

You cautiously stretched out your legs and leaned against the headboard. Sleep still seemed a long way off, even though the fatigue of the long case closed in the afternoon weighed heavily on your body. But your thoughts refused to calm down and leave you alone for a moment. His confession kept repeating in your mind, driving you and your heart crazy.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a long, slow sigh, your fingers brushing the edge of the blanket wrapped around him. He stirred slightly, moving closer to your side as if subconsciously seeking your comfort and closeness. He tilted his head in your direction, a faint smile on his lips, and the sight brought a pang to your chest.

“What am I going to do about you, Spencer Reid?” You murmured to yourself, with a curious sensation in your chest.

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as the questions began to tumble one after another. What if he hadn’t been drinking? Would he still have said those things? Did he even fully realize the gravity of what he’d shared, or was it just a moment of emotional release brought on by the late hour and the relief of a solved case?

And then there was your own reaction. The warmth in your chest, the protectiveness that surged when you saw him looking so vulnerable—it wasn’t new. You’d felt it before in smaller ways: a fleeting moment of connection during a case, a shared glance that lingered just a little too long. You’d always chalked it up to admiration or friendship, but now…

Now it felt like the beginning of a bridge you weren’t sure you were ready to cross.

Another sigh escaped you, and you tilted your head to glance at him again. His hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, resting loosely against the mattress. Without thinking, you reached out and let your fingers brush against his, barely touching. His skin was warm, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t quite understand but didn’t want to question.

II. Sunlight ☀︎

The first thing you noticed when you woke was the soft warmth of sunlight spilling through the blinds, bathing the room in a quiet, golden glow. It was a still moment, the world outside almost silent, save for the faint hum of traffic far below. For a second, you weren’t sure where you were. The unfamiliar bed, the softness of the sheets, the absence of noise..it all felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t quite grasp.

But then you felt it, a slight weight on your arm. You turned your head slowly, your eyes softening as you took in the sight of Spencer still asleep beside you. His face was turned towards you, half-hidden by the pillow, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. His hand lay just a breath away from yours; his body curled slightly, seeking warmth and comfort. The usual lines of stress and guardedness that creased his features during the day were gone, replaced by a peace you rarely saw. He looked unguarded, almost childlike in his vulnerability, and it made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain.

For a moment, you just watched him, your mind replaying the events of the night before. Especially the way he’d reached for your hand, even in his half-conscious state, like it was instinctive and natural.

And now, here you were, lying next to him, watching him sleep like it was normal and meant to be.

You shifted your position slightly, being careful not to disturb him, and sat up, propping yourself up on your elbow. The room was silent, except for the faint hum of traffic. That stolen morning moment felt intimate to you, and you found yourself wondering how much Spencer would remember when he woke up.

Would you regret it? Would you want to go back and erase it all? Would he stop talking to you forever?

But then, it was almost as if he was meant to give you all those answers because he stirred. His hand moved, his breathing changed, and slowly but surely, his eyes opened. At first, Reid was dull and unfocused as he blinked in the morning light, feeling a sharp headache. Then, as he realized where he was, you saw his expression change: confusion, a flash of concern, and finally recognition.

“Morning,” you said softly, trying not to startle him.

He blinked again and frowned, feeling a twinge in his head. “Morning,” he replied, his voice groggy. He glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the tangled blankets, and then you.

You were sitting on the bed next to him—the first thing he saw when he woke up and the first person to greet him. It was just like the kind of dream he'd been having lately—only this time he wasn't asleep.

A brief silence fell as the pieces seemed to click into place in his mind. His lips parted slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Last night…”

You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though your heart was racing, unsure of what he might remember, or worse, what he might regret. “You remember?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady.

His hand came up to rub his forehead, trying to shake the lingering fog of sleep. “I think so,” he said slowly. “We finished the case. We went to the bar.” His voice faltered, and his eyes dropped to the bed, as though searching for something solid in the scattered blankets to steady him. “I came here and said…some things, didn’t I?” His words hung in the air, filled with hesitation and a growing sense of discomfort. His cheeks flush, and he quickly looked away from you, almost embarrassed.

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “You said a lot of things.”

Spencer’s cheeks deepened in color, his hand dragging down his face as if that could somehow shield him from the weight of the moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”

You frowned, leaning forward slightly. “You don’t have to apologize. Not for talking to me.”

His eyes flicked to yours, searching your face for any hint of reproach or discomfort, but all he found was warmth. Still, he hesitated, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket. “I was drunk, and that’s so embarrassing,” he murmured, his tone tinged with self-reproach. “I don’t even know if what I said came out right.”

“It came out right,” you assured him gently, reaching out to cover his fidgeting hand with yours. The touch stilled him, his wide, uncertain eyes locking onto yours. “And it was just the alcohol talking…I know, don’t worry.”

He stared at your hand covering his, his throat working as if trying to form the right words. He didn’t pull away; if anything, he seemed to steady himself in your touch, though his voice wavered when he finally spoke. “It wasn’t just the alcohol,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “I don’t want you to think that it made me say something I didn’t mean. Everything I said was true.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the vulnerability in his eyes made the words catch in your throat. He held your gaze, his fingers unconsciously brushing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment.

“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he continued, his cheeks still faintly pink but his voice growing steadier with each word. “I didn’t know how to tell you. And then last night, I guess…I couldn’t hold it back anymore.”

His honesty was like a punch to the chest, leaving you breathless and unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected this level of candor, not so soon, and certainly not first thing in the morning. You pulled your hand back gently, needing space to think, though the warmth of his touch lingered like an echo.

He really meant every word.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice cracking. You bit your lip, searching for the right words. “I don't know what to say. It was all so sweet and nice to hear, but I'm not sure I'm ready to find out what this means, especially not with–”

“The distance,” he finished for you, his voice soft but resigned. He looked down, nodding slightly as though he’d anticipated this. “You’re leaving for New York soon.”

You exhaled slowly, relieved that he understood but also pained by the way his shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly. “It’s just three months,” you said gently, though the words felt hollow.

“I know, since I found out I did the math, and it's three months and four days.” He pointed out, almost not noticing that your cheeks had flushed slightly. “What I need to know is if you...if you have feelings for me, as more than friends.”

“Yes, I do.”

At that moment, it seemed that after almost a year of hiding his heartbeat for your sake, he could finally let his heart beat as much as he wanted.

But then you talk again.

“But it’s not fair to either of us to make any big decisions now, when I have to leave soon. I don’t want to risk ruining what we already have if we…if something doesn’t work.”

He looked at you, his expression serious. “But what if it works well?” Reid asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no despair in his tone, only quiet hope. “What if it's so much better that we have between us now? Isn’t that worth the risk?”

His question settled between you, heavy and unanswerable in the moment. It wasn’t desperate or pleading—it was simply Spencer, laying his heart bare with a quiet hope that made your chest ache.

“I'm not sure,” you replied, your expression thoughtful. “Three months is a significant amount of time,” you added, striving to acknowledge his feelings while maintaining a degree of caution.

“I can wait if it's for you. I can.” He replied without hesitation.

The unwavering certainty in his voice and the calm patience he offered you were more than you expected. Perhaps even more than you thought you deserved.

“You shouldn’t have to wait for me,” you said softly, your gaze falling to the sheets. “It’s not fair to ask that of you.”

Spencer shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t ask,” he replied gently. “This is my choice.”

“What if the distance changes things? What if we lose this…connection?” you asked, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “Like I said, it’s not like I haven’t done the math before. Three months isn’t forever, and if what we feel is real, then it won’t fade.”

In that moment, it was like a light bulb went off in your head, and the perfect solution just came to you.

“Exactly.” You pointed out with a small smile. “You know the three-month rule?”

Never before had you seen Dr. Reid confused, denying knowledge of any subject. It was as if the alcohol of the night before had caused a circuit breaker in his brain, or else you had no explanation for having to explain something he didn't know, and you did.

“A few weeks ago, I was drinking coffee and overheard a woman at the next table talking about how the first three months between two persons are enough to indicate whether they have a future or not.” You began to explain quickly, feeling a bit strange at how the usual roles between you seemed to have been turned upside down. “You know, if they're going to make it as a couple.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your words. “You mean…is like a trial period?” he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

You nodded, feeling a flicker of nervous energy coursing through your entire body. “Yes, that's exactly it. So we don't have to put a label on it right away or rush into it. But we could call, text, talk, maybe visit...just see how it feels. And when I officially come back, we'll know if it's something we really want to pursue.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying yours as though weighing the sincerity in your suggestion.

“Okay,” he said, his voice soft but resolve. “Three months. We’ll figure this out.”

Relief flooded you, though it was tempered by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. “Three months,” you repeated, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “And we’ll talk. Be honest. No expectations and the assurance that we can be friends again if we want.”

Spencer’s smile grew a fraction, and this time, when his hand reached for yours, it was deliberate. “Honesty,” he echoed, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles. “I can do that.”

For the first time that morning, the tension between you eased, replaced by a fragile but undeniable sense of hope. It wasn't a resolution, not quite, but it was a step forward, a promise to try. And for now, that was more than enough.

Because night before, you'd gone to bed early, thinking you didn't have much of a future at the BAU. But now you had Spencer with you in a way you'd never thought possible, and everything feels right.

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo, he's his own warning. Descriptions of illness and slight angst. Enemies to Lovers!, Soulmate!AU

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 2, 903

A/N: I'm still not feeling great and managing to get requests written that I'm happy with has been a struggle but I was able to keep up the momentum from the last chapter to get this done. Hope you all enjoy and thank you all for your positive response to this series.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten(here) | Chapter Eleven(coming soon)

——————

Your fall from such a height would have meant almost certain death had it been anyone else. Luckily and unknowingly for you, Doflamingo had issued an order to one of his elite officers after your less than pleasant encounter with the three pirates in your bathroom. ‘From now on you stay with them when they’re on their own.’ It was a simple order and one Pica took with absolute severity even though there was no danger to you from the Doflamingo pirates. He was going to obey his orders loyally, never leaving anything to chance. Even when you slept he remained close by in the Palace stonework, close enough to protect you and sense your movements but also giving you the privacy you needed.

When you stumbled out onto the balcony Pica was alerted and knew something was wrong. Through the day he’d been checking on you, noticing a difference in your behaviour. Thinking it was a small cold or flu he didn’t think to alert Doffy while he was away, besides he never stayed away for long when called away by the Marines. But then you fell over the railing and Pica acted immediately. His body pushed out from the stone and his large hands held out to catch you but then your limp body disappeared when it was a hair’s breadth from his reach and a familiar flash of pink registered in his sight. Blinking, Pica looked up and felt a wash of relief overcome him to see Doflamingo had returned and you were safely in his arms as he sat on the balcony you’d fallen over. He met the gaze of his leader and when Doffy nodded, Pica retreated back into the stone.

Doflamingo watched you carefully as he controlled his breathing to its usual calm; dismissing the adrenaline rush, shake in his limbs and quickened breath to just pushing himself a little harder than usual. Travelling vast distances wasn’t anything new to him but this was the first time in a long while he ensured he broke his personal best to return home. He hadn’t known what he was expecting to find when he was nearing the Palace but seeing you fall hadn’t been on his list. Blearily your eyes opened, your usual bright and sharp gaze was hazy and dulled with pain and confusion as you managed to focus on his face. “Back early…” Your voice was so weak and exhausted that even speaking those two words left your breathing tight and rapid. “M-miss me?”

Wordlessly Doflamingo rose from the balcony and carried you back to your bed. In the short distance you were incapable of keeping your focus on anything. Your vision blurred and although your eyes stung and felt so heavy you couldn’t keep them closed for long before they were slowly opening again. You barely registered Doflamingo had you back in your bed and settled against your pillows until the intense wave of pain slammed against your skull. It was so sudden and caught you off guard that you curled in on your side, hand pressed against your head. The shock had also forced you to take a sharper breath than your distressed lungs were capable of and brought on a coughing fit, sending more and more pain through your body as you struggled to calm yourself and find your breath again. When it finally subsided your body slumped against the bed. Distantly you heard the muffled sound of your door opening and a yelp of surprise coming from outside.

“Yo-young master!” the servant squeaked as they recovered from their initial shock at the abrupt opening of the door and seeing their King appear. While his return hadn’t been anticipated until the next day it was even more shocking that he appeared from his soulmate’s bedroom. “Welcome back!”

“Shut up.” Doflamingo snapped sharply, the cold intensity rolling from his body enough to make the servant fear for their life and scramble to bow lowly. “Get the palace doctors here now.”

“A-all the-”

“Did I stutter?” The low eerie calm of Doflamingo’s deep voice caused the servant’s blood to drain from their face as pure fear caused their body to grow rigid. They didn’t want to disobey his order when he was in a good mood and they certainly didn’t want to go against him now when he was like this but they just couldn’t force their body to move. The servant flinched when Doflamingo’s hand flexed, knuckles cracking in agitation. “Maybe I need to give you the right incentive since my orders aren’t enough. Are you wanting to go to them in one piece or bloodied and broken?”

“Behave…Doffy.” At the sound of your trembling, feeble voice from the doorway, Doflamingo’s hand twisted and ready to attack dropped to his side and his head snapped to look at you leaning weakly against the doorway. You already looked worse than you had in the short amount of time since he’d caught you. Your skin looked waxy and held the sickly sheen from the effort and strain coughing and struggling out of bed had caused. Swallowing harshly you looked to the servant, managing to pant out a quick. “Go.”

Your appearance snapping Doflamingo’s overbearing aura away from the servant was enough to make the poor soul snap back to reality. Rambling out apologies, the servant turned on their heel and hurried through the corridors to the doctor’s quarters. Not caring about the time or if they were sleeping they were going to frantically bang on their doors, reporting to them all that Doflamingo needed them immediately. While the servant was gone Doflamingo strode to your side as you gripped the doorframe tightly to remain standing. He saw how much you were struggling, your fingers trembled as they bit into the wood and your legs looked like they could give out at any moment. A sour taste filled Doflamingo’s mouth as he took in the sight and considered what he was to do. Instead he focused only on his anger, that he was able to handle. “Why did you get out of bed and interfere with how I deal with my servants?”

“Like being…difficult.” You managed out before tensing as another harsh cough rose in your agonised lungs and forced itself from your lips even though the pain was so great you wished to give your lungs a break. Your breath hitched in the final harsh cough and Doflamingo tensed when blood splattered agains the white marble floor. Shakily you released the doorframe to wipe your mouth but even that was too much and your legs buckled only to stop when Doflamingo’s arm caught your waist. Weakly your hand dropped to his wrist and your head fell against his chest. Immediately Doflamingo’s body tensed, feeling how high your temperature was. “Don’t you want a better look?”

“Look at what?” Doflamingo asked tightly, his frustration mounting as the seconds went by with still no sign of his doctors.

“Me.” You sighed, lifting your head to look at Doflamingo. Everything had ebbed back enough and you felt slightly more aware but the exhaustion was getting worse. “Does it match…your dreams? Me in pain.” Doflamingo ground his teeth together, refusing to answer. Not knowing how to answer, not even sure he knew the answer. Thankfully you were too ill to notice as your eyes had already slid closed just as he heard the sound of hurried footsteps drawing closer. 

The doctors appeared, fighting off their sleep and disorientation with the sharp clarity of fear of failing Doflamingo. They slid to a stop in front of him and took in the sight of your weakened form and the blood on the floor. You winced at the throbbing pain the sound of their approach brought and cracked your eyes open enough to see you were in bed again, not even aware or having felt being moved. You managed to make out the outline of Doflamingo talking to the newcomers to your room but everything was muffled. Unable to stay awake any longer you finally fell unconscious. 

Even sleeping it was evident to everyone you were suffering. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and with a struggling, weak rattle. Your body trembled with the shakes and tremors of chills and a fever fluctuating through you, your eyebrows knit together and expression twisted into distress. Doflamingo sat in his usual seat by the window usually reserved for when the two of you shared meals together as he let the doctors conduct their examinations over you. He’d relayed to them what he’d heard at the Marine base of the illness hitting the island. The doctors under his command had already heard of the mass infection from the papers and knew what symptoms to look for with you.

A low broken whimper sounded from you and Doflamingo’s strings unleashed instantly, connecting to the doctor who held a needle against your arm and kept him firmly in place before it could break your skin. At that the other doctors froze, out of fear of making the wrong move. “Explain yourself.” Doflamingo ordered, fingers arching to tighten the strings just enough for emphasis. “Now.”

“Their body is in pain… my King.” The doctor explained. “We can’t examine them without causing some form of discomfort no matter how gently we act. It’s part of what makes this illness difficult to treat. We need to take some blood to test how far it's progressed.” 

“Can’t it be treated without the test or any needles?” Doflamingo asked sparing a glance at your pained features briefly.

“It’ll make an already difficult illness more complicated to treat.” Another doctor spoke carefully. “But between us all we could manage without needles.”

“So do it.” Saying nothing more on the subject, Doflamingo dropped the strings and let the Doctors finish their examination of you while being even more conscientious of how lightly they touched you. The last thing they wanted to risk was another close call with their King’s temper and fearsome ability. Finishing quickly the group managed to work together to quickly administer something to help your pain without waking you or bringing Doflamingo’s wrath on them. Knowing time wasn’t on their side, most of the doctors hurried to begin working on your treatment in their offices while one remained behind, hovering by the door. “What do you want?”

“Do you wish to retire to your own room?” The doctor asked unable to keep the nervousness from their voice. “Myself and the others can rotate and care as needed. You don’t need to be here.” Doflamingo remained in his seat and looked towards your sleeping form. Whatever you’d been given had helped slightly. While you still looked pained and distressed but not to the extent you had been. A rattling wheeze slipped from your mouth and the vein in his head throbbed. He recalled your weak question, asking if seeing you in pain matched his dreams, what he’d hoped for. The answer was no, nothing matched the real thing. Seeing you like this was more visceral now that he’d gotten to feel the tremor in your body and hear the struggle in your breath and see your usually strong and calm features crumpled into this kind of distress. Doflamingo turned his head away and waved at the doctor. “Just get to work.”

At the sound of the door shutting, Doflamingo rolled his neck to let it crack audibly and release the built tension before lightly knocking the wall. “Pica.” The elite officer’s form appeared slowly from the floor until he stood loyally in front of his commander. His steely gaze remained on Doflamingo who continued to look out the window, his gaze on the balcony. “Good work earlier.” He eventually spoke his praise for the usually silent officer. 

While Doflamingo didn’t specify, it was clear that had Doflamingo not been there and had Pica not been there, you wouldn’t be lying safely in your bed and the need for doctors wouldn’t have been necessary. He was reluctant to feel relief and look deeper into the feeling it brought that you still lived but still he had to commend his officer for their obedience. “Tell the others that if they need me I’ll be here for the time being.”

Left alone once more, Doflamingo reluctantly looked towards you before dropping his gaze again. Slowly he worked through the information he’d already gathered. His own doctors had told him the illness was difficult to treat. From what he gathered due to the physical pain you were in that even a needle grazing your skin caused you to react, getting treatment would be just as arduous as going through the symptoms and ailments harming you. The conversation he’d overheard with the Marines confirmed many had already died regardless. Which meant even with his doctors there was a chance you would die. 

Now begged the question why was he even bothering with letting them treat you? Wasn’t you dying what he wanted? Yes it had to be by his hand but wouldn’t it still count if he ordered those duty bound to help the sick and dying to stop? Wouldn’t that count as your death on his hands? Possibly. Immediately and unwillingly the image of his mother on her deathbed flashed into his mind. She’d suffered for so long, getting weaker and weaker until she had no energy left in her to recover and all because his father was powerless. Doflamingo gnashed his teeth together, refusing to be anything like the man. He wasn’t powerless, he refused to be and you at least deserved a better end than this. 

———

“Our main focus is the heart and lungs at present.” You slowly drifted from unconsciousness to the sound of a trembling voice. Whatever you’d been given had dulled the pain slightly but you could feel it already wearing off. “They’re taking the most strain from the illness at the moment but trying to keep things from escalating is difficult. Finding a balance is-”

“Just spit it out already.” Doflamingo’s voice was cold and sharp, his impatience palpable. 

“We can’t just force medicine down their throat and expect it to take. In order to get to our main concern there’s other steps we have to take first to ensure the treatment isn’t rejected immediately and worsen their condition while risking further deterioration. This illness makes the body fight against itself. They need to sleep and eat to keep their body strong enough to stomach the medication we need to give them but between the intense physical pain, fever, and inability to swallow it’s difficult and puts them in a vicious cycle that leads to our main concern; the heart and lungs. The stress will mount and increase the pressure and strain.”

“Is there a way to keep them asleep and give them the nutrients from food without forcing them to eat?”

“S-sir…you um instructed us to avoid needles.” The doctor’s voice grew even more frightened and meek. You couldn’t see Doflamingo’s expression but could only imagine what the doctor was facing. “Th-that limits our options considerably.”

“Doc you’re really not helping yourself here. Maybe your negative attitude is having a poor effect on your peers, hm?” Doflamingo mused. “Perhaps I should-”

Doflamingo’s threat was cut off at the sound of your pained groan. Turning sharply he saw you struggling to push yourself up with what looked like the intention of getting out of the bed, your breathing laboured and arms shaking. You blinked when you were being pulled upwards and settled against the pillows propped up behind you. You scowled at Doflamingo as he now sat on your bed, a hand firmly on your shoulder to keep you lying back. “Do I have to tie you to the bed?”

“Not tonight dear, I have a headache.” You quipped back, your voice thick with exhaustion. You took a long breath, pushed his hand away before pressing your fingers against your temple trying to relieve the blinding pain that was rushing back and through your body as the painkillers in your system finally left but it only made it worse. Groaning you dropped your hand and tried to move again, everything was just too much that you felt the desperate urge to try and get away from your own body even though you knew it was impossible. You just wanted to stop feeling so pained and ill and weak. It was just a survival instinct to protect yourself despite your own body being the issue. 

Doflamingo saw the distress overcome you and when he saw you try to get out of the bed again he acted without thinking. He pulled you close and moved so your body was against him while settling his hand against your head, moving his fingers against the spot you’d been trying to relieve. Instantly a sigh broke from you and your eyes slid closed. Stronger than the painkillers you’d been given, this removed the agony assaulting you and you fell straight to sleep, your features relaxing. Doflamingo watched the change in you with silent surprise, and released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Finally aware he was being watched his head snapped up to see the dumbstruck doctor standing there and staring with widened eyes. “My King, I think I can confidently say we’ve found our balance.”

��——————————————-

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[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hi if your still up for requests; would it be ok if I request yandere destiny one with a Yaoguai reader who’s on the run from the celestial since the celestials planning to turn her into a pair of immortal pills

(maybe reader is part of the spider fan , or maybe she has a connection to the white bone demon or maybe reader is a human who just made the celestials mad 👀)

Hcs please 🙏

Long and slender legs that run between the tight bush, arrows and spears that whipped through the air, a heavy breath from the nostrils.

The hunt began weeks ago, but now the pursuers were able to catch on to their prey. A deer at first sight, but once the eyes were able to look closer, its mane was covered in silver gleam, the stars of the midnight sky in its eyes. The hunter had freed their dogs, trying to catch the deer now closer than ever to their Blade.

But the deer was fast; its legs were made to run and to own the pavement of the forest, but a frantic creature can take itself to its own demise. The wall of the mountain stopped its escape; the solid rock did not show any help for a climb, and bigger rocks stopped the passage around it.

The deer squished itself on the wall, fearing the sound of the horses and the barking of the dogs. 

It seemed like, despite the fear, it knew that running wasn't anymore an option, and accepting seemed almost inevitable. Yet, the sound changed, the barking grew more aggressive, the shouts were focused on something else, and the sound of spears clashed with the sound of metal and wood. 

The scream stopped; the dog dismissed or emitted some long whines before falling into silence. Then nothing...the Woods came back to its regular silence. The deer looked at the leaves and the branches, expecting everything...except for a monkey.

A young monkey, armed with a staff, walked towards the deer, looking at him with a glint of interest. What a peculiar creature, he was thinking; never had he seen a deer colored like the night. And what he couldn't expect more was that for the deer to suddenly get engulfed in a silver smoker and reappear with a humanoid form.

"Thank you, dear One! Oh, thank you so much!" 

And while the creature held his hands, thanking him from the bottom of her heart, he couldn't suppress the blushes on his face.

///

Your life was perfect.

Once, you were a mere deer, born to survive and procreate, nothing more and nothing less. But one day something awoke in you, a thought, a desire to be more, to do more.

You started to cultivate yourself until, after seeing more things than you were supposed to see, you woke up...changed. Your mantle was now of the color of the Moon that shone between the Misty Sky, and your eyes were like the many nights that had passed over your head. You were meant to be noticed.

A Celestial found you, and you shared your progress in your cultivation, and, maybe noticing a certain talent, he had taken you under his wing. 

You've taken your human form after a long period in the Celestial realm; you were beyond happiness, not just because you were able to achieve something that just a few did, but because you were able to escape from your destiny to be more than you were supposed to be! 

But you learned too much; you found out a secret that Heaven didn't want you to know. They were rational at first, trying to advocate with your silence, offering you a prestigious position!

They wanted to buy your compliance and your silence; you refused... and they didn't take it too well. 

They wanted to reduce you to a pill, to silence you, but you sniffed the danger and fled! 

While telling your story to the monkey, you couldn't hold your tears, so afraid and so lonely, without your kind and without a soul that could help you...

"I will," he said, with a confidence known only to his kind.

"But... I'll put you in danger... I can't..."

"Heaven doesn't like me ALREADY, and I can't LET them keep up with their schemes."

And with that, a new chapter begins for you... If you only could sniff the danger here too.

///

Living on the mountain was like going back to your old life, only for this one to be quite different. It wasn't just because you were there as a fugitive, but mostly because the mokey presence seemed like an almost constant now.

Every day you woke up only to find him around; the entire day was made to be at his side, taking care of chores around the village, and the last face you could see before closing your door was his own. You found it quite strange, odd even, but his kindeness and his protectiveness made you dismiss the fact that, since the beginning, no other monkey, especially the older ones, were allowed to stay close to you.

You weren't bothered; you weren't accustomed to monkeys way of living, and you thought that was normal behavior. And by the way, it wasn't always like that! He did make a few of his younger sisters watch over you, especially when he was leaving for his mission. 

They were always so caring and tender with you, calling you older sister and spending their days with you. They didn't like the idea of letting you roam off by yourself; they always found a new way to drag you back to the Mountain or distract you from your own agenda.

You never batted an eye, never suspected anything, and you never even noticed their way to try to persuade you to never leave their home, to stay there with them and their beloved older brother.

You never questioned his own actions; maybe it was normal around them. To hug each other so tightly, to linger a little too much close to you, to whisper things so near to your ears that your skin shivered.

His hands, always searching for yours, always sending his gaze on every move. To pry into every detail of your life, just to know you, even the more personal ones. You, in your own way, decided to indulge him; he was your savior. After all, a thing that even he never failed to remind you.

He saved you, gave you protection, food, and somewhere you could be protected like you deserved. It was almost an obligation to be kind and accept every one of those small demands that weren't even a big deal.

It was normal, right?

///

His breath was stuck in his throat, his eyes were wide open, and his pupils were as small as the head of a nail. His tail was as rigid as the staff he held in his hand, yet an imperceptible movement could be seen from it, such was the grip that was strong. It seemed like the weapon sensed the desire of its owner to smash the brain of the celestial that was holding you and...kissing you...

Your eyes shined with a gleam that he had never seen before when he was the one in front of her, and a smile that he swore was the most treasurable gift that you ever made.

"Monkey! Please let me introduce to you my future spouse!"

Did you mention about your spouse before? Maybe, maybe he just ignored your tale,

Like many times you had told him what made you uncomfortable, and he always was able to cross it. Maybe he hoped that, without the presence of that immortal around you, you would maybe change your mind and realize that the one with whom you wanted to spend your life wasn't part of the court.

Everything could be a good explanation, but in the meantime he was forced to see you embrace them like you never embrace anyone before, kissing their temples in tears of joy for your reunion, their hands in your hair, so close to you... The monkey couldn't stand it, but he couldn't take away his gaze either, imaging he was entangled in your arms.

That celestial presented themselves in all elegance; their gratitude was like water in their mouth, spilling in vigor for the happiness to find their future bride in good health and safe from the court clutches. But the monkey couldn't care less; how could he even listen when his mind was occupied with so many thoughts?

Why are they here now? Where were they when you needed them most? When you were on the run, with dogs and a soldier at your back. They wanted to transform you into a pill. What if that was a trap?! What if they weren't there to take you to safety but back there?!

No, the monkey thought; he won't let that happen. He wanted to protect you, not like that scum that professes to be your future spouse! He was there to help you and protect you; he did it before he was willing to do it again! Yes, it would be painful. It's clear that they had fooled you quite well, but if he had seen through it, he would not fail you!

And while his mind found every possible excuse it could, his staff spoke for him.

///

Your scream echoed in the mountain; blood spilled like a river, on the green grass and on his hands.

They were dead; their head was long gone. They were dead.

"NOOO! MY LOVE! MY BELOVED NO!" You ran toward the body; your hand clinged to what remained, hoping to feel a sign of life, everything... but their chest was still, and so was their heart.

The monkey looked at your face, tears running like raindrops on that body; the light of the sun made them like pure gold. You were beautiful; even in tears, you were a gift of the skies. Those eyes made of pure lapislazuli looked at you, shining more than ever.

"W...why? ....Why?! I trusted you; how could you?"

"They didn't love you. They left you alone. They wanted to bring you back!"

"How could you say that?!" You screamed in pain. "You killed them in cold blood; they just wanted to protect me like you!"

"No!" He roared; his voice silenced you in fear. A glint in his eyes, it was worse than the one that the wolves had during their hunt. His hands grasped you, holding you down, blood covering your white robes; you were like a bride now.

"I PROTECTED YOU! I DID! BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, MOR ETHEY COULD EVEN DO! I WOULD DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU!"

His hand left your shoulder, reaching for your legs. A shiver of panick made you struggle more, but his hand was solid rock.

"I would die for you. KILL FOR YOU! I'll take care of you; do everything to keep you here with me."

"Stop! You're hurting me! Monkey you-"

"EVERYTHING!"

A crack silenced you, then your voice broke the silence of the mounatin once more.

///

He did keep his promise; he did make everything in his power to make you stay.

The leg that you lost was bartered for Cuschion so soft that it could even be taken for a cloud; he was always there, caring for you and trading the wounds that you inflicted yourself in your attempts to escape. You can't go far with one leg, even in your deer form.

Sometime, especially at night when his arms are like snakes around you, you wonder if being a pill for another celestial wouldn't be so bad.

[guiltyasdave]

let them feel

pairing: Dave York x f!reader with a side of whichever Pedro boys you want x f!reader

word count: ~2k

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be grabbed, no use of y/n, dom!dave, exhibitionism, lowkey group sex tbh, rough oral sex (m receiving), fingering, degradation kink, praise kink

a/n: sooo... yesterday the lovely em @luxurychristmaspudding posted this poll with the compelling question in a room full of p boys, who is getting you off (in front of everyone else 👀)?, which led to the lovely daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality posting let them see (go read that asap!), which then led to me asking "hey do you mind if i continue this?" and then writing 2k words in a state that i can only describe as possessed. enjoy <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

“Such a good little slut for me, baby,” he croons and kisses your cheek. “Now get down and clean up.” 

You’re still floating from your orgasm, all soft limbs and hazy thoughts, but when Dave speaks, you obey. Always.

The air is heavy with the scent of sex, the room filled with the sound of the others catching their breaths. You feel their eyes on you, burning on your skin. It’s heady, being bare in front of them, your whole body free for them to drink you in. The vulnerability of it is intoxicating you, humiliation swirling with excitement. They’re here to see you. You made them like this. 

Dave tuts from behind you, teeth nipping at the lobe of your ear. “I said now.” 

You shudder at the sharp bite, your ass grinding against him once more. Flames are already licking at your core again, still demanding more.

A low groan sounds when you turn around, position yourself on all fours in front of Dave. You’re on full display for them, and at the sound, you arch your back a little more, spread your thighs a little wider. 

You feel his cum dribbling out of you, for all of them to see. See where he claimed you, made you his. Where he shared a small piece of you with them, and you let him. 

Dave’s cock hangs heavy in front of you, coated in the combination of you. The scent engulfs you, musky and filthy. Your mouth waters. 

Looking up, your eyes meet his. They’re burning with pride and possessiveness, as one hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing gently over your skin. 

“Not done yet, are you? You wanna show them more, show them how good of a girl you are for me?” 

“Yes,” you breathe, locked into his gaze. You’d agree to anything he asks of you. 

His lips curl into a smirk at your devotion. His thumb presses down on your bottom lip and slips into your eager mouth easily. You start sucking instinctually. His eyes darken, the smirk growing wider.

“Tell them,” he demands, pulling his thumb back and turning your head until you’re facing over your shoulder, towards them. “Go on.”

Your cheeks burn when you look at them, catch their eyes where they’re locked on you. Some on your face, some still on the mess between your spread legs. 

“I want to show you that I’m a good girl,” you whisper, eyelids fluttering with embarrassment. 

It earns you a few appreciative chuckles, a “go ahead, sugar,” that has you feeling shy. You turn back to Dave, silently pleading for his praise. 

“So good,” he mouths at you as his fingers sink into your hair, directing your mouth to where he wants you. 

You start with small kisses, pressed against his thighs, slowly moving closer. Inhaling his scent, the heady intensity of it when you’re so close to him. 

You reach the underside of his cock, alternating between kisses and little kitten licks. His skin is sticky against your lips and tongue. The taste of his cum, mixed with the tang of your own arousal, floods your senses. A growl rumbles in his chest, his fingers digging into your scalp. But he doesn’t direct you, just holds onto you, soothing you by making sure you feel him close. 

Whimpering at the taste, your tongue glides over his velvety skin. Taking your time, savoring each moment, every inch of him. 

A new wave of arousal floods your pussy when you lower your head deeper, your tongue caressing his balls, coated with his cum just like you intended. Your ass rises higher with the shift in your position, and you hear Dave chuckle above you. 

“You want to take a closer look? She doesn’t mind, do you, baby?” His fingers glide towards your neck, squeezing for just a moment. “You don’t mind showing them your slutty little hole, all wet just from licking my balls?” 

You hum against his skin, the vibration causing him to suck air in through his teeth. 

“Good girl.” A teasing slap lands against your ass, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, more of his cum dripping out of you. “Spread your legs then, let them see. Wider.”

You hear the shuffle of footsteps, feel their eyes on you, so close to where arousal is spreading through you like wildfire. You could swear that you can feel someone’s breath ghost against your folds, the sensation enough to leave you trembling.

Dazed, you keep lapping at Dave’s skin. His balls are heavy on your tongue, cleaned of his cum and covered in your spit instead. It’s as far as you can go, to claim him like he claims you, to make him yours.

His grip in your hair tightens, pressing you into him, leaving you no choice but to lick and suck where you can reach. Your own saliva is soaking your face, his scent invading your nose, his taste filling your mouth, all your senses overwhelmed by him him him. 

The flames keep licking at you, building up ready to consume you, and this is about him, you know it is, but you need more so badly. He lets up, pulling your head back slightly, grinning down at you. You can feel the others, their presence right behind you, close enough to touch. Yet, all you can see is Dave. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dark. He runs a finger over your spit-slicked cheek, collecting the evidence of how completely and utterly he’s ruined you. “Such a messy slut, aren’t you?” 

You nod, teeth digging into your lip to keep your arousal at bay, to keep from begging him to touch you. 

“Tell them. Tell them what you are.” His hand connects with your cheek in a slap, not strong enough to hurt, but enough to send a moan tumbling from your lips that earns you several chuckles from around you. 

“Tell us, baby,” one of them rasps, stoking the flames inside of you further. 

“I’m—” you begin, shyly turning to face them. They’re towering over you, surrounding you, watching you intently, devouring you with their eyes. A deer in the headlights. You suppress a shudder, another wave of arousal crashing through you. “I’m a messy slut.” 

Their cocks are hardening again, a few of them already touching themselves. Because of you. 

“Yeah, you are,” Dave coos. Your head flies back to him at the sound of his voice, you can’t help it. It’s like you're tethered to him, like he’s the center of your universe. He’s taking you in, so calm, so patient, his lips pursed like he’s debating what to do with you. 

His cock, fully hard again and leaking, is inches from your face. You want to taste him, licking your lips at the sight, saliva flooding your mouth. He can tell. He always can. 

“Go ahead, put that whore mouth of yours to use.” 

It’s all the permission, all the encouragement you need. You move forward, let your lips part around the swollen head, reveling in the fresh taste of his cum on your tastebuds. Your tongue traces the veins under his velvety skin, curls around the heavy weight of him before sucking him deeper into your mouth, sinking down on him. 

It makes it harder for you, giving yourself no time to adjust, but it’s the way he likes it. He wants you slowly licking his balls, face pressed into his skin, debasing yourself, taking your time. But once you reach his cock, his patience runs thin. 

Expecting you to give him what he wants. Taking it if you don’t. 

“How’d you train her so well?” one of them asks. The longing unmistakable in his voice. 

Dave chuckles, thrusting into your mouth particularly hard. He hits the back of your throat, a gargled sound escaping you. Holding himself there for a few seconds, he talks over you, like you’re not even there. 

“It’s easy when they’re desperate for it, you just need to find the right girl.” He looks down, smiling at you in mock pity. “She was just asking for it. Weren’t you, baby?” 

He doesn’t demand an answer this time, content with the choked hum that you manage to get out. 

His cock sinks into your throat again and again, stretching your lips, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. Saliva is dribbling down your chin, tears flowing from your eyes. But this is what you wanted, what you needed, to let him use you, to show off how well you take him.

Your hips are humping the air in rhythm with his thrusts, desperate for friction, for something. 

“Look at you.” His face is blurry through your tears, but his smile is evident in his voice. “My little slut needs to come again, huh? Insatiable, aren’t you?” 

You manage a nod, gagging around him when the movement has him nudging against your throat again. 

“Do you want them to touch you?” 

It’s a genuine question, one that he’d let you say no to, but saying no is the last thing on your mind. You pull off of him with a gasp, greedily sucking air into your lungs. 

“Please, yes! Please, please, please.” 

He fills your mouth again instantly, holding your head still as he pounds into you with a new intensity. 

“You heard her. Make my girl come.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence, the tension thick around you, mounting high. Then, you’re overwhelmed with sensations. Their hands are all over you, so big, calloused fingers on your soft skin. 

Nails scratch down your back, fingers roughly pinch both your nipples, already pebbled hard with your overwhelming need. It’s just on the right side of pain, racing through your body and mind, transforming into pleasure almost instantly. 

Fingers swirl through the sticky mess between your thighs, teasing at your entrance. You buck your hips, trying to get closer while Dave still holds your head, not letting you move back an inch. 

“Impatient,” someone chuckles behind you, and the fingers withdraw. 

You whine around Dave’s cock, already able to taste your orgasm on your tongue, just a little bit more—

There’s a featherlight touch against your clit, barely there, but it’s like your body is set on fire. Mercifully, the fingers are back at your hole, or maybe they’re someone else’s, you can’t be sure, and you don’t care. 

Finally, they sink into you, thick just like Dave’s, squelching with the overflowing wetness, and your eyes roll back into your head. They stretch your fluttering walls, fucking you slowly, deliberately, as you clench around them. Until they find the perfect spot, hitting it just right, over and over. 

The touch on your clit intensifies, rubbing tight circles, catapulting you higher still, your whole body at a boiling point. 

Then, you shatter. Dave’s cock in your mouth does nothing to muffle your scream, your fingers clawing at his thighs, holding on tight as you’re soaring. They don’t let up, pushing and pulling at you, while your orgasm keeps ripping through your body. 

You’re drenched, wetness covering the entirety of your inner thighs, dripping from you when their fingers finally disappear from your cunt. 

“Good girl,” Dave groans above you, thrusting into your throat one last time, before his seed spills into your waiting mouth. “My perfect fucking girl, you did so good.” 

You’re blissfully hazy as he slowly lowers you down onto the sheets, stroking your head, your face. The others’ hands are still on you, but their demanding touch is gone, replaced with sugary sweet softness, more gentle than you had thought possible. 

You close your eyes, content to let yourself fall into their affection.

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are love <3

[hoonieyun]

collecting tears - sunghoon

jar of tears that were shed for sunghoon

park sunghoon x reader "y/n"

genre: angst, right boy wrong time, failed relationship, rejection, ex-boyfriend

warning: profanity, depression, anxiety and insecurity, alcohol, overall 18+ - italics are flashback

summary: sunghoon loved you. he did, but the voices in your head kept telling you that you weren't good enough for him. after a public display of affection, the weight of the gaze of your loved ones, and the voices in your head, you're now forced to replay the moments of leaving sunghoon alone; on one knee and a velvet box in his hands.

I know I said I’d wish you well But I did not mean with someone else I don't wanna ask too much But don't fall in love without me Been through hell Waiting if the time could tell I don't wanna press my luck But don't fall in love without me pia mia - wish you well word count: 1843

“Y/N?” a voice calls out to you and you're pulled out of your thoughts. It was Yeji, Sunghoon’s little sister. She had grown so much since the last time you saw her and she was only getting more beautiful. You gave her a warm hug and asked her how she’s been. The two of you catching up in the ladies bathroom of the reception venue. You haven't seen Sunghoon’s sister in a long time and to be frank, you hadn’t seen Sunghoon for a while either. 

You were in the bathroom trying to recollect yourself after seeing Sunghoon and his now wife take the stage for their first dance as a married couple. You thought that you had long gotten over Sunghoon and that you would be able to attend his wedding with only love and support for him but as soon as you stepped out of your car and onto the cobblestone pathway that led to the ceremony, you were only filled with regret. 

Regretful that you weren’t the one walking down the aisle and staring lovingly into Sunghoon’s eyes. Regretful that you weren’t the one Sunghoon was slipping a beautioful diamond ring onto and softly reading his vows to. Regretful that you weren’t the one on the receiving end of his kiss as the officiant announces the marriage. Regretful that you weren’t the one dancing with him as loved ones admired. Regretful that you walked away from him. 

Sunghoon had planned a whole day for the two of you. He had been planning for the last three months, consulting with your best friends and sisters to come up with the best plan to propose to you. He even got the blessing of your parents, taking the two of them to dinner with just him and although your dad was hesitant to let his little girl go, he willingly gave Sunghoon his blessing to wed you. 

Everything was planned out and all Sunghoon had to do now was ask you the question. But not before the two of you finish all of his events planned for the day. Sunghoon watched as you put your earrings on and sprayed your perfume as your last step of getting ready. He admired your beauty and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you, as husband and wife. 

He spins you around in a whim of the moment, landing on his chest as you look up at him with wide eyes, a toothy smile on Sunghoon’s face. “Yes?” you ask and Sunghoon just continues to smile at you, excitement boiling inside of him as he runs over the events for the day once more. “Nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.” Sunghoon says before placing a tender kiss onto your forehead. “Come on, our reservation is soon.” he says, grabbing your hand and gently walking outside to his car. 

You mull over on his words. Luck. Was that all this was? Was he just lucky to have stumbled upon you and now he just happened to think he had to be with you? Lucky that he found you but… did he want to find you? Your doubts were now starting to seep into your mind and the insecurity you fought so hard against was starting to win. You didn’t realize you were dwelling on these negative thoughts for so long because you had arrived at the first spot Sunghoon had planned and hadn’t even noticed until he was opening your door for you. Trying your best to brush away your insecurities, you put on a smile and took Sunghoon’s hand in yours as you approached the beautiful restaurant. 

A fancy steakhouse that prepared a variety of different meats and dishes prepared tableside. He spent all dinner making sure you were having fun and although you would say yes, your mind was starting to unravel. Like you were starting to fall apart the longer you were out with Sunghoon. You couldn’t get those thoughts out of your head no matter how many times Sunghoon would tell you that you were beautiful and that he loved you and that you were the one for him. 

The next step on his plan after dinner was to go on a walk by the river. The river wasn’t too far from the restaurant and Sunghoon planned it that way, so you two could walk hand in hand to the next location on his plan. 

He slightly swung your arms as your hand was in his, enjoying the cool breeze of Spring. There were groups of kids running around with kites, parents lounging on the grass as they watched their children, and several dogs running around. Sunghoon couldn’t wait for the day he could be one of those families, a family with you where he can admire the life he has because it was a life with you. The velvet box in his back pocket burning a hole into the fabric the longer the walk went on. 

The walk was short and soon enough you’re approaching a clearing near the river, the sun was beginning to set and the flickering lights from candles were coming into your line of sight. Various candles, rose petals, and photos of you and Sunghoon adorned a small lookout that stood just above the river; giving whoever stood there the perfect view of the sunset and river altogether. 

You were looking out into the view, wonderinf what all of this was for when suddenly, Sunghoon was on one knee and some of your loved ones had appeared behind him. All of them with smiles on their faces and phones pointed towards the both of you. 

“Y/N. You’re the best thing to happen to me. There have been a lot of times where I questioned what I was doing with my life. Whether I should continue ice skating, whether I want to become an architect, what I should have for breakfast. But in every instance, you were there to reassure me that you would be there with me through everything. Never have I ever questioned my love for you and I hope you know that you were the reason I think love exists. 

I’ve never felt this way for anyone before and I’m glad I learned to love through you because I don’t want to experience love with anyone else. 

You’re the most beautiful girl I know and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. 

Y/N… will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?” Sunghoon says, pulling out the velvet box and popping it open, a beautiful diamond ring glistens in the sunset and a smile on Sunghoon’s face paired with his glossy eyes make your chest rise and fall even faster. 

You glance around to your loved ones, your dad smiling at you as he consoles your mom while she cries, your sisters crying and smiling as they record the loving moment, and your best friends trying their best to keep it together. 

When you look back down at Sunghoon you soon realize that you hadn’t answered his question because the smile on his face has started falling into a confused frown. You blink a few times while looking into Sunghoon’s eyes and you don’t even realize you were crying until a tear falls down your cheek. 

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” you say, shaking your head and running away from Sunghoon. Stunned and shocked as he blinks away the tears welling in his eyes, too embarrassed to even stand up and face your loved ones. 

The silence in that moment was so loud and Sunghoon could’ve sworn that amidst the silence, he could hear his own heart shatter inside of him. 

“Are you okay?” Yeji asks as she watches a tear slide down the side of your cheek. You quickly wipe it away having not realized you were crying as you recalled the traumatic events of Sunghoon’s failed proposal. You reassure Yeji that you’re fine and that you’ll see her outside. She soon leaves you alone, noticing that you probably needed some time alone. 

After a few minutes of composing yourself, you touch up your makeup and head back outside to the venue. The reception was just as lively, if not more, than when you had excused yourself to the bathroom. You were scanning the dancefloor, trying to find your old friends to hang out with when a voice from behind you gets your attention. 

“Having fun?” Sunghoon asks and you’re startled by his presnce. If you were being honest you had been ignoring him all night and would hope that you could go the whole night without having to interact with him. 

“Y- yeah. Beautiful wedding, congratulations to the both of you!” you say, trying your best to sound genuine. Sunghoon smiles at you, a type of smile you hadn’t seen in a long time. You really wished that you were the one being celebrated alongside Sunghoon but your insecurities and anxiety prevented you from receiving all the love that Sunghoon was ready to give you. 

“Sometimes I wish things were different…” Sunghoon says quietly and you have to close your eyes to prevent yourself from acting in a way that would only hurt the both of you, you especially. 

“Sunghoon, don’t… We’re literally at your wedding.” you say, eyeing the room but due to the dark atmosphere from the lowlights and strobe party lights, no one could actually see the two of you right now. “Yeah but I wish it was-” Sunghoon begins to say but you cut him off by walking away but he grabs your hand in his. A small gesture but to the both of you it was more than that. 

“You’re literally married, Hoon…” you say, the nickname mindlessly rolling off your tongue. “This isn’t right and you know that.” you say and Sunghoon sighs in defeat, staring down at his feet. Although he was now married and had a new woman in his life, you were the one who held his heart. 

You walked away from Sunghoon that night just like you did the day he proposed to you. Wishing that although he was now married and how much you wanted to believe that you truly wished him well, you wished that he just wasn’t with someone else. 

That he’d fall in love but secretly wishing he would fall in love with you once again and even though he tried to prove to you that he still does love you and that he was willing to drop everything at his own wedding reception to have you back, you chose to walk away once again. 

Sunghoon watched you walk away a second time. “Take me back to the night we met…” he says, hoping that his empty words would somehow miraculously grant him his wish so that he could start all over and show you the love you deserve and reassure you so that you wouldn’t walk away from him. 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

the credit for the lyrics used in this piece of writing go to their rightful owners

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"The truth - Part 1." Daryl Dixon imagine.

(Not my gif! But thanks to the amazing people who make them)

For the first time in his life, Daryl tells Carol the story of how you two met.

A/N: This got longer than I thought hehehe that’s why I’m dividing it in two parts. Thank you so much for all the love my last imagine received! I still can’t believe it. That’s why I thought of combining the stories a bit, and showing you how I imagine Daryl and (Y/N) met, just because I’m crazy and I even thought about making it a serie hahahaha but here you’ll see a bit of how they broke up and in the second part, how they got back together and then later had Marley. Only on this occasion (I’ll try not to do it often) I used the pronoun she and her, but you can read it however you like. Thanks in advance!

“Rick told me that Spencer invited (Y/N) to his house for dinner. He’s been really insistent on them getting to know each other more since we got here.”

For him, it is as if Carol’s words are a sharp razor that cuts his breath away, that makes the world, his world to stop completely, leaving a great void where silence lies and reigns, without the constant grunts of the walkers on the other side of Alexandria's gates, without the singing of the birds that nest in the tree just outside the window of the home they share, without being able to hear the sound of his own breathing that seems to stop too just like the beating of his weak heart. 

Because it was Daryl who told (Y/N) he couldn’t be with her, so he wanted to believe that after that, she managed to extinguish every feeling she once had for him, as well as the light of their love that once shone and the one that was turn off when he left her, which trapped them in the shadows of a cold hurricane and an endless night, always so close but never together, running in circles far from each other without knowing where they were going, drifting like a lost ship in the ocean and in a complete darkness.

But that’s bullshit, Daryl knows it, because she had been the only woman Daryl Dixon was capable of loving, and she is the only woman he would love for the rest of his life.

“Um…” He swings the knife against his finger, sinking it in a little harder than necessary, but not able to ask more.

The night melts into his deathly silence, but, sitting beside him on the wooden step outside their house, Carol lets out a long sigh.

“What do you want, Daryl? Do you really want to see her with someone else?”

Daryl’s chest feels hot, boiling, like the result of a high fever, like he’s been running for hours without stopping to catch a breath.

“I jus' want 'er to be happy.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Carol shakes her head, incredulous, but she has a magical way of telling the truth and still sounding sweet. “She loves you, you, and I know she’ll only be happy with you, even if you’re the surliest man I’ve ever met.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything, unable to look her in the eyes as he continues to stare at the grass, hiding behind his hair the eyes of a man who would give his life for the person he loves, but who is too cowardly to stop listening to the voices in his head that tormented him every night, that kept telling him that he would never be worthy of her love, that he would never be the man capable of being loved.

But Carol knows him, and she knows that he is beginning to drown, so, with a warm smile, she speaks again.

“How did you meet her by the way? I don’t think you ever told me that story.”

Softly, because he wasn’t used to doing it often, Daryl smiles at the memory, and his ocean-blue eyes light up and fill with life, and for a moment, he is able to lift his head and look at the moon shining above them.

“We were still pretty young. One night, Merle kicked me out of the ugly apartment we shared during one of his meatings with some drug dealers, so with nothin' to do, I went to a bar to kill some time. It was a shitty place, so I was surprised when she sat at the bar, just a few feet away from me.”

“What was she like?”

“As beautiful as she is now.”

Carol can hear the smile in his deep voice, as warm as the thought of (Y/N).

“And what were you like?”

“A motherfucker with nothin' to offer 'er.” There’s no emotion in his voice, but before Carol can give him a telling off, Daryl speaks again. “But she looked at me like she could see somethin' in me, somethin' I didn’t even know existed. She spoke to me first, and asked if the bike outside was mine. I told her that it was, and she, with 'er eyes full of life, told me that 'er older brother used to have one just like that. I laughed a little because she shouldn't be there, she didn't belong in a place like that, and when I asked her, she chuckled, a warm sound, like she was full of colors in that shitty world…”

Daryl chuckles, and for the first time in the long night, he is able to look at Carol, only to confirm with his gaze everything he still could sense about (Y/N) at that moment. Carol can see his smile this time, slight but unmistakable.

“And what happened next?”

“She told me she was runnin' away, that her father was goin' to marry her off to some dude of a wealthy family that would get 'em out of the debt that bastard got himself into in the first place. She was goin' to be sold, like a thing, by 'er own fuckin' father.” Carol can hear the venom in his voice, the hatred, the spite in the memory of his own father before he abandoned them. “I asked 'er if she had a place to go, and she said no. I don’t know what went through my mind when I told 'er my couch was available, I don’t know what went through 'er mind when she said yes n' thank you. That night when we got back to my place, Merle told 'er she didn’t look like some hooker he used to bring home. And (Y/N), without any fear, walked up to him and pulled out the gun she had stolen from 'er father, then pressed it against ma brother’s chin, askin' him to repeat what he had just said. Merle loved 'er after that, and I didn’t even know that asshole was capable of lovin' someone.”

Carol laughs.

“I didn’t think I could love (Y/N) more, but now I kinda do.”

Daryl chuckles too.

“Yeah, I kind of did too. I even thought, I have to marry this woman.”

“And you wanted to? Marry her, I mean.”

For a few seconds, Daryl thinks deeply about whether sharing one of his many secrets is the right thing to do, whether saying those words out loud would change the course of things, but at that moment, he considers that saying them is appropriate.

“I bought a ring a year after we got together. It took me a while to get the money, but I finally did it.” Daryl is relieved that she can’t feel the heat on his cheeks, the blush of a boy who fell in love long before he knew what the hell love was.

“And how did you two get together in the first place?”

Daryl shrugs, smiling slightly at her like a little boy: and thankfully, he’d stopped pressing the knife against his finger.

“I don’t even know myself. I guess it started with the dinner she made us the next day. I told 'er she could stay as long as she needed to get 'er life together, and Merle asked her to stay if she made him dinner. She was about to shoot him when he told 'er that our mom had never made us such a delicious dinner…” Daryl chuckles, just a little humorous, because the funny memory is mixed with the sad one. “We just… at first it was purely carnal, we would have sex to release stress, we would do it and then I would leave my room that was hers at the time, but there was always something sweet about 'er, I could feel it in the way we kissed, in the way 'er body shuddered as I touched 'er soft skin, in the way she pulled me against 'er body during…” Daryl looks back into Carol’s eyes after realizing that he was dreaming out loud, but Carol is there, smiling at him. “There was one night, where I jokingly told 'er that I was enjoyin' this thing of makin' love every night so much that we should consider doin' it durin' the day too, and she just looked at me with a confused expression, but with a slight smile on those lips that I was dyin' to kiss in the mornings and at all hours, and she told me that that was the first time that I didn't tell we had sex.”

Carol smiles, quickly understanding what came next.

“You were falling in love with her.”

Daryl nods softly.

“I was completely devoted to that woman from the moment I met 'er.”

“And you told her?”

Daryl shakes his head.

“Not with words, I ain't good with words, never was. But she knew, I think that’s why she stayed with me all that time.”

“She stayed with you because you’re a good man, Daryl, you always were and you always will be.”

Daryl shrugs, this time in a gesture that dismissed such an affirmation.

“I never told 'er I loved 'er, and she never asked me to tell 'er, but I could feel that she loved me in every kiss, in every hug, in every blessed smile of hers.”

“And how did you two split up when the end of the world began?”

“She got a job shortly after I invited 'er to ma house. She was a vet, and even though she had little experience, 'er boss trusted 'er and gave 'er a job. That night when people started runnin' and shootin', I went to look for 'er but she wasn’t there. Her boss had been bitten n' even thought she had been too, but somethin' in me told me that she was stronger, smarter and that she had managed to escape. When Merle and I left town, I never stopped lookin' for 'er: I knew she was alive, and I jus' had to find my way back to 'er.”

“And you found her after all.”

“Yes, I did, but when we got to the prison, somethin' in me kept tellin' me that I wasn’t enough for 'er, that even if I took care of 'er, she deserved better. That night I told 'er that I couldn’t be with 'er, not in the way she would have wanted. The way she looked at me, as calm as she had always been… I’ll never forget the way she nodded and walked away…”

Unconsciously, Daryl presses the tip of the knife against his hand again, so imperceptibly that neither he nor Carol notice.

“But you couldn’t stay away from her.”

Daryl chuckles again, embarrassed with himself at the memory of Carol almost catching them in the act.

“Hell no, I had missed 'er body so much. But it was like goin' back to the beginnin’. We had sex when everyone else went to sleep, but I knew it was jus' that: sex. I knew it the moment she wouldn’t let me kiss 'er, the way she hid 'er face in my neck, holding onto my shoulders. So I jus' held 'er against me, huggin' her for as long as she let me until we were done and she asked me to leave. It was like that all this time. I always have 'er close, but never close enough.”

Carol nods.

“That’s why you stayed here, even though you never really adjusted to this life.”

Daryl frowns, going deeper into his own thoughts.

“I always spent most of ma life in the woods, runnin' away from ma father n' mother, and when they left, I did it to escape from myself. But when she came into ma life, Merle used to tease me and tell me that I had been tamed, that after every job I had, I always came home jus' because she was there. When we came to this place, I considered livin' on the outskirts like I always liked, but I… I can’t be away from 'er.”

Carol’s expression turns into pure sadness, because she knows that Daryl is a good man, strong, loyal to his family, willing to die for one of them without a second’s hesitation, so the insecurities he kept secret were like a knife in his heart and hers. But when she sees (Y/N) from afar coming home after her job at the infirmary, Carol knows that everything comes down to that moment, as if there was no way to escape that decision that Daryl must make, which is now or never.

(Y/N) is still a little far away, so she takes advantage of the moment.

“You are the best man I have ever known, Daryl Dixon, and you deserve all the love you can ever get: from me, from our family, and from her.” Carol steps closer to him, hoping her words are as honest as she intends them to sound, and for a moment, they manage to draw Daryl’s gaze into hers. “I’ll ask you one question only. Do you love her? Do you really, truly love her?”

Daryl holds her gaze, but despite his terror, he manages to find the words he’s been dying to say to her. And when he speaks, his voice is low, husky, but self-assured.

“I do. I love 'er.”

“So tell her, Pookie.” Carol kisses his temple, smiling at him with all the love she has for him. “I guess you still have the ring. So take her to someplace she likes, tell her the things you always wanted to tell her but were always afraid to say, and ask her to marry you.”

Daryl looks at her silently, with the expression of a scared child.

“What if she says no?”

“She will say yes. I promise. But you have to do it now, Daryl, before she loses hope with you.”

Without saying another word, Carol gets up and goes into the house, leaving him alone, so Daryl can silently contemplate his life, the choices he made, and the love for her that he kept deep in his wounded, frightened heart. But there's something about Daryl that drives him to stop always keeping to himself like he always did, to stop staying on the sidelines, to stop being that man tortured by his own thoughts, to stop loving her silently from the shadows, always behind her to protect her from everything, just so that, in that moment, he would be the brave man she always saw in him.

When (Y/N) arrives at their house, she smiles at him slightly before walking past him, but stopping, just like her heart, when she hears him call her by that funny and almost ridiculous nickname, but with his voice full of love.

“Peach?”

Her hand stops on the doorknob.

“Yes?”

For a small, fleeting moment, Daryl forgets how to speak, as if she were able to snatch all the words from him.

“Are ya doin' somethin' tonight?”

She frowns slightly, and although he hasn’t turned to look at her, she looks at him strangely.

“I don’t think so… going to sleep I guess, why?”

Daryl swallows the lump that forms in his throat.

“I thought that… maybe I could take ya somewhere, but we would have to leave before the sun comes up.”

Her heart is beating fast, an involuntary movement, because it’s been a while since they’ve been truly alone.

“Okay.”

There’s a certain playfulness in her voice, masked behind her confusion, but Daryl can sense it.

“I’ll knock on yer door when it’s time to go.”

She nods.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“G'night, peach.”

She laughs softly, but it’s the same lively sound he heard when they first met, and that, somehow, is like a good omen for him.

“You too.” But she pauses, thinking deeply if her next words will make any change in him. She is afraid, she is so afraid of feeling close to him again, but the fear of losing him at some point is bigger than anything. “Daryl?”

“Yes?”

Her heart beats differently, but she can’t hold her words prisoner anymore.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do it anymore.”

He knows it without her saying it, and Daryl can feel his own shame blossoming inside him.

“M' sorry.”

There’s a deep emptiness in his words, and she can’t help but feel that weight on her shoulders too. So, silently, she sits beside him for a moment, admiring the beauty of the moon that, despite this new world, hadn’t changed thankfully.

(Y/N) reaches out her hand to him, the hand he hurt, and Daryl, unable to look her in the eyes, holds her hand as he feels the warmth of her body close to him, for the first time in weeks. Maybe she was never good with words either, but right now, all he needs from her is to have her close, as close as he would be to her if she said yes.

[orcelito]

Honestly sooooooo fucked up that I thought my overwhelming daily fatigue and debilitating body pain was a product of the awful working conditions I was under for years and years... and yet, despite being out of work for half a year now, I'm still so fatigued and in pain all the time??? Like come on man that's not fair

Oh well maybe I have liver disease and they'll treat it and then I am magically so much more energized like I was as a kid. We can only hope !!!!

[tears-of-boredom]

day 3: unnecessarily complex fit

ii gotta be honest, they were originally gonna have two feet but then i couldn't figure out the perspective of their right one so i decided to just not draw it

[phoenixcavalier]

Pink sunset last night :)

[tonycries]

Bad Bad Boy

Synopsis. Wait! They don’t love bréed you like an íncubus bréeds you.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, íncubi! JJK men, aphrodísiacs, BRÉEDING (a lot of it), creampíes, spítting, rútsm mátes, true form!Sukuna, dp, spítting, cúmplay, MANY mentions of having kíds, proposals (Nanami), overstím, bíting (márks), pússydrunk men, slight oraI (fem receiving), scents, making him CRY, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. WHEWWW HERE WE GOOO, have a lovely lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The THIRSTY

“Oh god, ma…a real feast ya are.” The swelteringly hot tip of Toji’s tongue drags in syrupy, slow circles around your sloppy hole. Groaning at the salty trickle of his cum from just earlier, the way you were still drooling all around him in want. “M’gonna have sooo much fun breedin’ this cute cunt.”

Delicious. Depraved. 

And here you were, gasping, entire body wracking with sensitive shudders. It takes you only a second to blearily tangle your fingers down where his dark tresses were coveted firmly between your trembly legs. “T-Toji- M’so close- hah- think m’gonna-”

“Don’t you dare.”

You’re only able to blink away the big, fat tears welled up behind your eyes when the suddenly-conjured incubus- Toji presses another saturated kiss to your puffy folds. Another. And another. Before just wrenching away with a pained grunt.

“Because…” he smirks smugly. His lips glisten with white dripping down his chin, his long, bared canines like he was rabid. And Toji can’t help but snicker at your expression when he smacks! your puffed-up clit with his fat head. Still achy. Still hard. “-m’all ready for seconds.”

Your breath hitches when his sharp hips immediately recoil against yours - rough. Rock-hard cock stretching out your melty insides until you swear you could feel the way his hefty girth throbbed inside you in a sinful little thump! thump! thump! 

“Now now,” Toji’s leering his head down, greedy tongue licking along his lips. He dips down to run it down your teary cheeks, languidly. “Why all the whines? Ya shoulda known better summoning me.”

“It was-” you gasp, nails digging neat arrays of red, red lines when his weepy cock jostles your insides in this mean mating press. Plummeting to expertly clash against your g-spot, branding the little divot on his angry tip onto his favorite spongy bullseye. You’re sobbing out, “-was an accident!”

“An accident?”

It was. It really, really was. 

But oh, you didn’t regret it.

Toji only plants a few more determined rams into your messy entrance, and you moan once his heavy, cum-filled balls thwack your already-stinging ass. The skin rubbed raw and almost bruising where Toji was fucking you into your damp mattress.

“M’a fuckin’ incubus, doll. I die if I don’t fill up this hngh- p-pretty pussy.” he groans, eyes falling half-lidded at how responsive you were. How sweetly your pheromones smelled. Splatters of cum still drip! drip! dripping down his chin when he catches you in a mean, mean kiss. Salty. Hypnotic. He didn’t mind making out with your cunt when he’d just cum in you, in fact, he loved it. “-N’ you asked me to breed you by accident?”

And you can’t do anything else but moan into his mouth, the drippingly wet slurps ringing all across your ears. “Yeah tha’s it-” he moans, refusing to let his eyes fall completely shut in order to drink in your fucked stupid look. “Take it- open that bratty mouth.”

He spits. And you drool. 

From both the thick wad of aphrodisiacal spit streamed down onto your pinkish taste buds, and the way that only makes Toji thicken. Just barely fitting snugly against your plush walls. 

“Better not squeeze me s’hard if you don’t wanna end up with triplets, woman.” he bites, one hand dipping lazily downwards to pat at the slightly bloated lump on your tummy. Exactly where each grinding stroke was spurting out wispy little strings of cum, making him see stars-

Fuck- Toji knew he was absolutely losing it - moving like a fucking animal. 

Ramming you further and further up the silken sheets, it’s as if he had a sixth sense - hell, he probably did - easily massaging your sweetest spots with thorough glides of his hefty shaft down your walls. 

He smoothes one warm palm on your hips, a vice-like hold that drags you down like some ragdoll-

“Where the fuck do ya think yer runnin’ away?” he gruffs, but oh does Toji’s sinful grin only grow when your jaw falls slack with surprise- shit, were you? “Ohhh, already that cockdrunk? Shit- that’s alright tha’s my duty isn’t it?”

“D-duty?” you babble in a cute whine, and his sharpened canines sink down on your glossed up pout. 

You’re gifted with a swift smack! of Toji’s thick digits down on your clit, and it drives him crazy the way that’s all it takes for your overfilled cunt to ooze out another creamy wave of his seed. Dredge after milky dredge ringed around his cock, matching his grin. “My duty to make you a p-pretty momma, of fuckin’ course.”

It’s all you can do to nod, cheeks burning at the mocking way that he was mirroring your motions. “Wan’ it- want it so bad, Toji. Give me a- hah-”

“‘A’? No no no-” he’s tutting, now bouncing your body easily with his inhuman strength, every single hit against your g-spot making you keen. “You’d be lucky if m’only givin’ ya one, fuck-” 

The words are barely heaved out before he cums - again. And again and again, every hurried ribbon of seed knocking up against your womb. It massages your wall so mercilessly, and Toji has two hands bruisingly on your waist now.

Cumming way more than your average human, it leaves you whimpering and wallowing while his seed spills out of you, seeping out the sides of your sopping wet slit into a sticky puddle underneath you two. 

So potent. So filthy- 

“Yeah- yeahhh fuck there we go- good girl-” he purrs, words slurring together as if he didn’t even realize he was saying them. And Toji’s in such a hazy headspace, splaying out his fingers once more on your stomach when he pulls out. You’re so drenched now, thick, gooey spurts gushing after his engorged cock. At your disappointed whimper, he smacks! away the hand gingerly making its way down to your neglected clit. “Heh- don’ get too hasty, doll.” 

Toji looks you right in your eyes when he takes his sweet time to shuffle down, down, down the velvety sheets, until his hot breath was puffing against your sloppy hole. Mouth watering. “M’not gonna be stingy with the future mama of my kids, of course.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The drenched…

“A baby…” You hear Nanami’s dark chuckle from behind you, hitched and heavy. He sucks in his lower lip between his teeth, one hand sliding soothingly down your arched back. “Didn’t think I’d be summoned for a baby.”

And he sounds so out-of-breath already, fingers fumbling with the knot of that yellow, speckled tie of his. It only feels like mere milliseconds before you feel that familiar silk wrap around your wrists, pinning you down onto the plush velvety bedsheets. 

“N-Nanami-”

“Ken.”

“Ken!” you’re mewling out, voice cracking into an-almost sob. You squirm your jittery hips backwards, pushing the curve of your ass against those tufts of blond at Nanami’s toned pelvis in a way that makes him swallow. Swirling his reddened tip around your insides, every slow swivel makes him gloss your gummy walls in a drippingly hot coat of precum. “I need you to- to hah- put a baby in me so b-badly. Please, fuck-”

If Nanami hadn’t known that his precum had the special ability to make your mind all syrupy and needy then he’d have thought you were cockdrunk already. 

“Shhh, no need to beg, my love.” he’s purring, brushing away those frustrated tears. Kissing your lips with sweet peck after peck. But the way he grinned - all dangerous and greedy was anything but. “After all- you’re my master, aren’t ya?”

And as if to fuck that little complaint out of your cute pout, he’s immediately rocking all those long inches into your dripping cunt in a depraved little grind. Not much - definitely not enough for him but oh, it makes you keen.

“Fuck-” you spit when the rounded tip of his fat cock nudges gently at your g-spot, drawing a wet glides. “Th-there- so close- there-”

And oh, you’ve barely gotten those words out of your mouth before he’s crashing back into that little target again. And again - each and every time Nanami’s thickened cock leaves you speechless. Hitting that same spot, every bruising kiss against it has your plushy walls crashing down to suck him up dearly. 

Difficult, almost, with how almost-inhumanly massive he was. Prying open your insides with each clamoring ram, his weepy crown surges into you maddeningly.

“There, right?” he’s humming, swashing around the trickle of his precum with each thrust. Nanami leaves sticky, spit-slicked kisses down the column of your neck, leveraging you even deeper onto his rock-hard dick with a harsh tug on that restraint around your wrists. “Come on now, there-” Followed by a repeated, rough pulse against your g-spot, “-s’where you’ll make the prettiest noises f’me.” And he takes a few sloppy seconds to listen to the melodic squelch! squelch! squelch! of your sopping wet cunt, the tiniest mewls of his name. “And there-”

It almost gives you whiplash when he lets go of the tie to have you sinking into the soft mattress, pounding you into it even deeper and deeper- Splaying out a hand underneath you to press right at your womb.

Nanami’s entire bodyweight is pressing over you, but he’s careful not to crush his pretty girl- well, master, for now. Whispering so lowly into your ear, “-there is where you’ll make the prettiest babies f’me.”

“Oh- please.” your eyes roll to the back of your head, even more so when that curious little hand poking over at the nudge on your tummy dips down to your clit. “Wan’ that so badly- wan’ you t’make me pregnant- hngh- wanna be your pregnant lil’-”

“Wife.” he’s just drawling out his words at this point, steaming hot body pressed up so close against yours from behind that there wasn’t even a hair’s breadth between. “Gonna hafta w-wife you up- ngh- make you my pretty mate after this, y’know?”

Oh, that sounded so good right about now. 

Those filthy promises muttered darkly into your ear, just barely audible over the relentless thwack! thwack! thwack! of Nanami’s hefty, cum-filled balls smacking tightly against your thighs. He’s cooing and coaxing you through every single rude slash against your tender sweet spots.

Your jaw sags open even more second after second, and it makes him huff out a delighted little laugh. Blond, sweat-damped hair brushing up against your forehead when he cranes downwards to just suck on your tongue. “Please- Ken–”

“Master? My love?”

You moan in a way that makes him echo behind, “M’gonna-” 

But you didn’t expect that all it would take is a sneaky pinch of your pulsing clit, and Nanami placing the tiniest of kisses on your forehead for your orgasm to hit you all at once. And he’s throwing his head back when your convulsing body juts abruptly backwards. 

Giving his heated cock such a tight squeeze-

“Fuck- yeah fuck that’s it-” Nanami’s gruffing out, eyes staring down in awe at how your poor pussy was just gushing. “Cum f’me- cum all over my cock, pretty darling hngh- that’s right.” Squirting out the silkiest of translucent juices, and part of him almost feels a pang of disappointment at how it was all going to waste.

Dribbling down his tight balls, the milky skin of his thighs. It just gleams all over the two of your riotous bodies in a shimmery, wet sheen. So much, that Nanami can’t help but let his lips curl into a smile very befitting of his nature, cupping your quivering cunt, letting the cool touch of his metallic watch make you spurt out even more waves of high. 

“So messy- so wet-” he’s murmuring out in pure awe, massive cock fucking you through each one of your peaks. It was contagious. And soon enough he’s kissing away at your whiny lips - nothing more than a lazy, sodden drag. Hips getting sloppy and out-of-control, oh the mere thought of you - splayed out and stuffed to the brim with him has him wanting to pass out right about now. Or cum.“Get ready, my wife- because s’only gonna get even wetter.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The “bully”

“I really do feel bad about being so hah- mean.” Geto’s soothing baritone is simpering, dipped so lowly to send shivers down your sluttily arched spine. He runs his slender fingers along the thin fabric of those soaked panties - ones he didn’t even bother to pull off. “But how else m’I gonna make you a pretty momma for me, gorgeous?”

He sounded so unapologetic, accompanied by another one of his squelching thrusts. You’re being split open on Geto’s reddish, aching cock and that’s all your drunken mind can think of right now.

“S-So mean Sugu–” you manage to choke out, your trembly legs tightening around his neck, clawing desperately down his pale, broadened back. Gushing cunt sending another slobbering wave of your sweet sweet slick. “Want it- I wan’ give ya a baby so badly.”

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya? Bringing me here n- begging me to fuck ya.” he groans out, brows furrowed, a humorless little curl of his bruised lips. Feeling him put that pretty mouth to work over on your perked-up nipples, rolling his hot tongue over the sensitive nubs. “Now m’wonderin’ whether ya deserve-”

“Yes!” you yelp, startling the both of you. But Geto never stops on his ravaging rummage around your plushy walls, he never stops that sultry back and forth of his greedily reeling hips. Your hands find their way to his inky locks, tugging until he keens. “Yes yes yes- please I wan’ ya to fill me up. Please-”

And Geto snickers, still sucking languidly on your nipples. Every slow turn of his tongue is followed by the complete opposite of his hips - they were pistoning so deadly. So fatally that you think you could feel his thick, rounded tip in your lungs. 

Pushing past those massaging nooks and crevices in your snug channel, he’s milking himself to your bulging g-spot. Hitting that exact same spot over and over-

“You smell so sweet.” he’s gulping in a deep inhale into the valley of your breast, and the very action has him throbbing even more furiously inside you. Twitching up and down in jerky little movements with each rough jackhammer. “Think yer near ovulation, honey-” Gasping when he pulls off with a drippingly loud pop! leaning in to whisper in a dragged-out rasp. “-s’the perfect time to fuck. To mate.”

Snap!

You jump when he snaps your panties again with one flick of his index, and the tiny shock is enough for Geto to just push. 

To be lifting your hips up just enough to plunge his swollen knot inside, and it’s so big. So thickened that you feel it gape open your messy hole, molding your plushy walls around. He’s feeling generous enough to let you get used to it for a few seconds before-

“Gonna make you full with my kids- heh-” Geto chuckles out deliriously. “Have you all round and glowing and- fuck, oh fuck you’ll be so-” He punctuates each word with a dragged-out kiss of his bulbous tip into your cunt. “-mine. You’ll be so mine.” He’s nipping down the tender flesh on your neck - unpatterned and messy with just how much he was pounding you so unsteadily into the mattress. “Be my mate. Hah- be my mate, gorgeous- hngh-”

Every hit at the very bottom of your gooey pussy has your jaw slacking further and further open in bliss. Getting more and more honest after each furious stroke. And Geto smells so good, you think. A sweet, strong scent making you heady and dazed, a translucent trickle of drool trailing down the corner of your mouth. All you can do is choke out his name over and over-

“Yes-” you mewl, and you’re staring right into his widened, primal eyes. Unable to look away. “Wan’ be yours, Sugu- please.”

Those damn words are barely out of your mouth before your entire body seizes with the most filthy shivers, and Geto’s biting down on that precious side of your neck. Hard. 

Hard enough that you’re sure it breaks skin, but right now you couldn’t think of anything more than how good it felt to cum all over Geto’s thick cock. He was drilling into you like an animal, primal grunts ripping through with each rut - spitting out again and again into your ear - “Yeah- yeah that’s right, cum f’me, honey.” His teeth are bared, tinged ever-so-slightly with red, and you can already feel the dizzying way his cock twitches inside you. “Cum f’me- fuck fuck fuck- gonna give ya all my kids. Gonna give ya- ah, my mate-”

His voice was a few octaves higher than usual, strained. Cracking ever-so-slightly in a way that had Geto placing his massive palm on your mouth, muffling away your drunken giggles.

“Shut up.” he hiccups, so depravedly trying to hold back the hitch in his breath, the way his long lashes flutter shut. Grinning a devilish grin when his teeth tug on your bottom lip, “Sh-shut up and take it.”

And Geto holds you like he can’t let go - crushing you against his washboard abs, those plush pecs when his thick strands of seed seep out from his leaky tip. Shooting so far into your needy pussy that you can almost feel the sudden thwack! of it hitting your softened cervix. 

He was so pretty cumming like this, brows furrowed, jaw clenched when he dumps out such voluminous loads into your tight channel. A lot, that it was impossible not to feel how it jostled around inside you, splatting against your walls. 

“Heh- yeah, yeah c-can hngh- feel how you’re overspilling- bet you’ve never been bred like th-this, hm? My mate?” his hips grind desperately back and forth back and forth back and- those shuddering pounds from before limited with how tight Geto’s knot was inside you. But that didn’t matter, that was fine because- “When this goes does m’gonna show you what a ‘bully’ really means, honey.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - The artist

“Oh, baby you smell so-” Choso gasps out, dark, dewy eyes almost bulging out at the pretty way you rode him to insanity. With a rough grasp on your shoulders, he just drags you downwards to nose up your neck, “-so sweet. A-and you taste…”

You don’t even need to direct your bleary eyes at him to know that Choso’s mouth was positively watering. Adam’s apple bobbing desperately at his sweetened saliva, it only takes him one look at the bare skin of your neck. Two. 

Before he’s biting down - hard. And at this point you think you look like you’ve been thrown to the wolves but, no, it’s Choso.

“Oh- ouch.” you grit your teeth with a keen, hips coming to a sloppy stutter on his rawly achy cock. But you can’t slow down - he won’t let you. Powerful hips jutting up to squelch into your teasing cunt, smashing the hot, feverish length of his dick into your velvety walls. “D-didn’t think an hngh- i-incubus would be so-”

“Greedy?”

He’s cutting you off with a ragged groan, bumping you into his toned chest. Both of your bodies glissade back and forth in such a frenzied little dance that has the bed ricketing aggressively. 

“C-can’t help it, baby—” he’s dragging throatily, teary lashes batting up at you. And you feel his cock twitch at your steaming hot insides, the very rounded tip of his fat length kissing your bruised g-spot. A slow, needy kiss. “You smell- and you taste so- hah–” His jaw sags further and further open with each of your snug clenches, yet he’s somehow managing to maintain your heavy eye contact. “-so heavenly. Bet you’ll taste even better when I breed you.”

With a soft shudder, Choso toys two fingers over to the sensitive nub of your clit.

“B-breed me?” you breathe out, and he nips along your jaw. “Is that- is that even possible hngh! I mean-” 

One by one Choso presses wet kiss after kiss on your pouty lips, saccharine sweet saliva making your head spin. Free hand wrapping around your wooden headboard to keep some semblance of his sanity.

“I want to! I want- oh fuck, I need to-” It was a promise, and both of you knew it. Because he was rutting up into you so determinedly, easing your slobbering down in harsh, relentless drags that made it seem like you were trying to milk out something delicious. Greedy digits on your clit moving onto grab a rough handful of your ass to guide you through it, he was driving himself crazy. Sharp canines tug lightly on your ear lobe, and he whispers in a dangerous, gravelly tone. Eyes rolling back, “-or I’ll die trying.”

Your thighs tighten around his slender waist, “So do it, Cho–”

Just that little promise - that nickname - makes him clench, muscles stiffening along his entire body in a way that has Choso throwing his head back. “Ah- f-fuck-” he’s stuttering, gravelly and discomposed. You feel him teasingly dance the soft pads of his fingers across where he was imagining that little bump, pressing down. Hard. “Gonna fill ya up until you ngh- can’t take anymore, baby- let me- let me please.”

And you don’t know what comes first - his thick, hot ribbons of cum that paint your gummy walls white, or his ravenous teeth right on the tantalizing juncture of your neck. 

It breaks skin, and Choso just moans at that metallic taste, all neat imprints of his teeth leaving a permanent little pattern. Oh, you feel how it only makes him jolt - as if his entire, hulking body was being electrocuted, glassy eyes rolling backwards, drool dripping down the side of his mouth and onto where he was licking up the bitemark in long, languid stripes. 

Then with an abrupt, almost-painful shudder, Choso’s cumming. 

Snap!

The now-broken headboard clatters to the floor, and Choso’s unwavering strength is now fully spent on you. Pushing your squirming hips downwards until it clapped bruisingly against his sharp hipbones. 

He fills you up to the very brim, throbbing divot of his cock gushing out in such thickened dredges of cum. You can feel it sloshing around your melty insides, each glossy coat sticking to you like a second, sloppy skin.

“Ch-Cho–” you’re mewling, bucking up and down pathetically to try and meet his unapologetic pace. “M’so full- ah-”

His flushed head clashes against your delicate sensitive spots repeatedly, and the very bounce against your spongy cervix makes him grin. “Mhm, s’what you’re hngh- s-supposed to be-” he’s barely whimpering out. “Supposed to be full. To-” Your barely-lucid eyes follow his own, hardening at the slow, sultry drool of cum seeping from the sides of your sodden slit. It drags to leave a milky white trail down his shaft - one that Choso swipes his trembly fingers along. And he lets it pool on his digits, immediately plugging it inside your already-overspilling hole. “-keep it in.”

You gasp at the stretch and he attaches his ravaged, reddened lips to your neck, gliding along the bitemark.

And something about the action makes you moan, your glissading walls constricting around his still-weepy cock. It feels as if you’re almost out of control, and you can only look to the pretty man below you for an answer. 

“Incubus saliva.” Choso huffs out, and you’re still feeling the hefty slosh of him shooting out clingy loads of cum into you. “Also acts as an aphrodisiac.”

All you can do it take it when he fucks back up into you as if it was his little addiction. Slender fingers giving your pulsing clit a light swat, eyes so droopy and reverent looking up at you. His greedy cock drags out the cutest little whines from you, big, hefty tip crashing thoroughly into your g-spot over and over- “S’perfect for making you a pretty momma, isn’t it?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The (k)naughty

“So are ya jus’ gonna admire it like a cockdrunk lil’ slut or what, puny human?” Sukuna’s big beefy biceps just bulge when he crosses his arms over his chest. Giving you a devilish eyeroll that decidedly doesn’t help the way you were being ruthlessly bullied open on his twin cocks. “Swear you’re the whiniest lil’ thing to ever summon me.”

And the cutest. 

But the king of incubi holds back the last part. Instead, two of his rough hands come to rest possessively on your waist, feeding you inch after solid, swollen inch of both his stacked dicks. 

“Honestly,” he grits out - more to keep those pesky moans out of his chest than anything. Teeth bared, drool already dripping down the corner of his smirk. Fuck. “Wonder which one’s really in a rut - me or hah- y-you.”

You can all but sink your teeth into the velvety covers of your pillow, fucking you on all fours to give you the best of both worlds. Both of his matchingly girthy cocks stretching you wide open until your sloppy entrance was just as gaping and fucked-out as your whiny mouth in a way that has Sukuna snickering.

“S-s’not me-” you’re hiccuping out, such a sticky, blabbering mess when your ass slaps! against those bulging knots at the very ends of his hefty bases. Bruising a circular branding, “-clearly.”

Smack!

Sukuna takes the obscene opportunity to plant a mean slap onto your tender flesh, all five of his thick fingers smoothing over the sting. He’s leaning down until his breath puffs feverishly against your ear. “Gettin’ real mouthy for a brat that can’t even take my- hngh- knots, woman.”

Another one of his four arms wraps around your exposed neck, feeling the helpless thunder of your pulse. With a slightly tugging pull he has you glued to his sculpted front, the change in angle making his fat cocks inside you jostle around. Swirling in slow, calculated motions to stretch out each and every hidden spot on your gooey walls. 

“Look at me when I speak.” he spits, making you lightheaded with how much you were being manhandled to crane your neck up at his towering body. “S’this filthy cunt of yours gonna be able to take me- all of me? Let me breed her the way she deserves?”

Mewling, the only thing you can do at this moment is to shamefully nod up at him. Your pitiful little whimpers being drowned out by the drippingly wet squelches of your own cunt. 

Smack!

“Answer me.”

But apparently it wasn’t enough for Ryomen Sukuna.

“P-please-” you’re moaning. “W-wan’...”

The large fingers around your neck grip harder, and he dips another one down to your waist. Slowing down his hips just enough that he won’t lose his mind - just enough that you fuck back with a jittery buck of your hips, gummy walls yearning for that sweet sweet friction so badly. “‘W-w-wan’ what?”

“Wanna take you so bad!” you’re bawling. Scrambling at the strong wrist around your throat, your nails leave deep red little lines along his tattoos. “Want it- fuck fuck fuck- want you to breed me- to fill me up with-”

And then you can’t speak - and not because the vice-like grab on your airway is tightening. No, it’s because suddenly so does the one on your hips, holding you painfully, greedily still while Sukuna’s pushes and pushes his hips-

“Oh. Fuck, hold on.” his eyes fall shut at the pure squeeze, mouth falling into a depraved oh. “M’almost- m’gonna- fuck t-take it-” Two of his free hands come down to your waist now, “Gotta fill you- hah- up- fuuuck-”

And if you thought that Sukuna’s two cocks were big before then it was absolutely no match for the mind-numbingly lewd stretch of his knots. The swollen little nubs plugging your hole full, they’re bumping into your sensitive spots without even trying. Opening your pussy so wide that a translucent little ring soaks his heavy balls, dribbling onto the ruined bedsheets with a steady drip! drip! drip! 

He’s rummaging inside recklessly, one weepy tip kissing messily against your g-spot, the other indenting a sodden bruise into your cervix. You swear you feel it knocking against your womb, your lungs.

“Wanted my knots so I’m- hah- givin’ ‘em to ya.” And nothing more it said before Sukuna rams into you unpredictably - sloppily, as if he wasn’t even in full control of himself. “You’d like that, huh? To be- ngh- b-bred full of my cum. To give me an heir.” His head is falling backwards, groaning gutturally, long, black fingernails clawing at how tight it was. How- 

And then he cums.

And it seems that your poor pussy knows before Sukuna does. 

“Oh- fuck-” he swears under his breath, orgasm slamming into him, muscled body doubling over. Pinning you with his weight, you’re in the face of each messy jerk, milking out every one of his thick wads of cum. “I didn’t- so early- ah!”

But no matter what, he couldn’t stop. And Sukuna’s red eyes flutter shut - there’s so much- 

You were overspilling, your skin sticking to his after every milky gush. The wet squelches from before come out even louder, even more weepy with every sopping thrust! Cockdrunkenly, your mouth moves before your mind, “Y-you came-”

“Shut up.” And for your little observation, he’s gifting your ass another hot smack! Hoisting up your limp body even closer, cursed power thrums in the air when he cranes his head to look down- “Ah, hasn’t taken to my s-seed just yet.”

You barely even know what’s going on, but Sukuna’s eyes stay locked on something at that little area on your tummy, that little bulge where you could feel the creamy gyrations of his cum sloshing around inside you.

“You’re lucky, brat.” Smack! And he grins such a dangerous grin, one that makes you gasp. “We get to go all over again until I breed ya proper.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - The absolutely filthy.

“Oh, I can’t- I can’t-” Gojo whines, cerulean eyes fluttering shut, and his face scrunches up in such painful pleasure, “Don’ know if I can hngh- c-cum anymore- if I will-”

But that doesn’t mean that Gojo was going to stop either - no, he was all but shoving your pretty pussy open with the ragged grinds of his reddened cock. Two rough hands attached to your waist, jostling you down, down, down to meet his thrusts. 

You’re so sensitive, your rawly massaged walls just bursting stars behind your droopy lids every time Gojo was rummaging inside. Toes curling, back arching in a pretty little bow, you sob, “T-Toru–”

And fuck that makes him moan, heavy balls just clenching-

“Oh, sweetheart-” he breathes out, deep sing-song voice verging on the very tip of an embarrassing crack. Rattling off, “Sweetheart, sweetheart sweetheart-” It’s about all he can sputter out right now as his heavy balls clench. They’re smacking so soppingly wetly against your ass, and he can feel the very end of his fat cock twitch once - twice - before Gojo cums. Again. “Shit- you’re not makin’ it o-outta this without being- pregnant- you’re soo not-”

With how tightly he was clenching you to his toned chest, you could barely even move when his sweltering hot cum paints your gummy walls all white. So much of it that gushes inside you, every tiny nudge of the creaky bed and gyration of Gojo’s hips had his thick seed sloshing at your insides. Adding to the ever-splurging little pool underneath you that was already there since you’d summoned him tonight. 

“D-did you know that m-my hngh- my cum is an aphrodisiac.” he’s babbling, rosy red lips catching yours in a lewd little graze you’d barely call a kiss. “Did I tell you- that it makes you- makes me so–”

He did, actually. Many, many times, in fact - just after Gojo was done dumping load after heavy load of cum into your snug cunt. Each little utterance left you dumbfounded, pathetically helpless against that sudden surge of want.

“Mhm–” your honeyed voice makes his entire body just jolt. You scrape your nails against Gojo’s scalp, sifting through his soft white strands, and he’s practically purring into the palm of your hand. “Need more, Toru. More- hngh- wan’ you to get me pr-”

In a split-second, you’re being hauled out of that messy little mating press - barely, even, the two of you had sloppily fucked out of that position about four orgasms ago - to sit all prettily in Gojo’s lap, splayed out and spearheaded on his swollen dick.

“Don’t- don’t say that-” Gojo’s gasping, eyes blown wide, pupils glassy and so enlarged that his eyes almost looked blackened. He’s using his inhuman strength to push upwards, falling back onto his knees with every determined ram into your awaiting cunt. “S’gonna make me- ah-”

“B-but I wan’ it so badly, Toru–” you mewl, breathlessly. 

He glides a thumb across your quivering clit, gifting you a soft, sullen smack - ever-so-slightly. And you watch at the way Gojo watches, mouth falling into a ruined oh! eyes widening with each sopping dredge of cum that you gush down his shaft. It stands out so starkly - the white on pinkish, gleaming red - and that sight is enough to leave Gojo’s mouth dry.

To have him polarizing his ruts to kiss up at the bulging area of your g-spot, just dragging out those feeble shocks of pleasure down your spine. 

“Oh yeah? S’this what you w-want so badly?” he’s gritting out. Jittery fingers leaving another slap! on your pulsing clit, now glossily wet and being stimulated until you were dizzy. “To have me m-make a mess of this cute cunt-” He pants into your mouth, “to hah- breed her until you break me?”

“Yes!” Just that simple word is enough to have Gojo’s head falling backwards, dazed eyes rolling to the very back of his head. You push and pull your tongue against his saturatedly, “Yes yes- wanna have you breed me- hngh- wanna give you an h-heir ah-”

“Spit in my mouth.” he’s cutting you off all of a sudden, but the incessant molding of your cunt to his dick, the way he was showing absolutely no signs of stopping left you realizing that this wasn’t any tease. Pounding up into you so deeply.

And as if to prove that little thought - hell, you half had the mind to wonder whether incubus had mind-reading powers, too - he’s cupping your face into his greedy hold. Long, slender fingers pushing your pretty cheeks together until you had the most shameful purse all over your lips.

“Spit in my mouth.” Gojo’s repeating, shivering when you run a hand along his muscles, along his sculpted shoulders, finally resting at his throat. Tightening. And he only smiles, “S-spit in my mouth while ya hngh- milk me, sweeheart. Spit in my mouth- ohhh fuck- lemme taste you while I breed you. While I fuck a cute kid into ya. Please?”

So you do. 

And as soon as that steady stream of your saccharine sweet saliva hits his pink tongue, Gojo lets out a soft, broken whimper.

And then he cums, bucking his hips up over and over to slam against yours. Wet stripes of milky white cum draw against your g-spot - just a few wisps, before he’s orgasming dry. Throwing his head back to let your own high take over. 

Your orgasm is sudden, in an instant, and all you can do is cling onto Gojo’s bulging deltoids. “P-please- m’cumming-” you blubber away. “M’cumming hah- n’ I feel so full ah-”

He couldn’t even talk, he couldn’t even breathe right about now - so Gojo’s crashing simply crashing lips into your in a sloppy, tear-stricken kiss. Still dragging your drooling cunt down his twitchy shaft. Tasting the salt and the sticky need on your tongue when he murmurs, “Not full enough, though, right?”

“Wh-what?”

“Right?”

A/N. Laptop crashed five times trynna write this it might just be a sign that incubi JJK men are too powerful.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[slytherinslut0]

jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

[aviolettrose]

A fanfic idea:

Bruce was able to rescue Jason before he died, and after this experience, Jason stopped being Robin.

He became afterwards the golden child, he goes to college (with a scholarship), helps out in the city library, teaches children (helps with their homeworks and helps them to study), works part time in a car garage in crime alley, and is a supportive brother.

And it pisses his siblings off.

Because there has to be something fishy because no one, really no one, is that perfect.

And there is something fishy.

He is also Red Hood.

No one knows, and the vigilantes never talk to Jason about "the family business" because he needs to concentrate on his studies and other stuff.

So imagine, Batmans suprise when the JL was able to catch Red Hood.

Someone takes Jasons helmet off in front of Batman, Nightwing, and other members

And Jason, who wears also a domino mask, doesn't look Batman in the face even as he says :

"Hey Dad. I can explain."

And Dick loses his shit, he laughs so hard because, Jason, The golden child, the one who gave up on being a vigilante, who reads to children in the library, is a goddamn crimelord.

Bruce just stands there frozen because wtf Jason?!

And Dick takes selfies with Jason being tied up and calles the other Batkids in because they should definitely not be left out of it.

(Edit: As someone who doesn't really write (or can write good stories), I want to say, feel free to use this prompt for a fanfiction. Just please give credits to me (because I don't know if someone else had also this idea and posted it) and please inform me if you publish something (because I want to read a fanfiction like this too))

[littlelamy]

boat scene with rafe

requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2

credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.

“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”

You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.

Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.

You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”

Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.

“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.

For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.

The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.

“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.

You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.

Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”

Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”

But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.

When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.

“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.

His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.

Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.

You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.

“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.

The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.

You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.

Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.

You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.

You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.

He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.

Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln

[ozarkthedog]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary: the world crumbled before you could experience the touch of another. Joel does his best to keep you innocent for as long as he can.

pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x afab virgin!reader.

warnings: 18+ mdni. established, undefined relationship. PUSSY RUBBING. fluids galore. just the tip. perv!joel. unspecified age gap. fingering. dirty talk. overstimulation. male masturbation. FEELS. Joel is a conflicted old man. reader is able bodied. no Ellie. w.c. 2.9k

an: i watched a porn clip and instantly went rabid thinking about jackson!joel.

-> follow up to a glimpse of heaven but it's not necessary to read the first part.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Like most of Jackson, the house you share with Joel is quiet and calm when night falls. Rain softly patters against the window as you lie in bed, wide awake. Another night of fruitless sleep under your belt.

You huff irritatedly, your hand collapsing against the mattress as you bitterly kick your bedspread onto the floor. Your oversized shirt clings to your body, your skin dewy from the exertion, and you're close to crying. Your limbs are wrought and overworked after hours of touching yourself with no orgasm to show for it.

Your hand won't cut it; it isn't enough. It can't reach all those sensitive spots that make you float among the stars.

Warmth pools in your abdomen as you think of one that's the perfect size.

A hazy hue of yellow light pours under your bedroom door as it spills from the room across the hall.

Joel.

It takes a long time to get to know someone, but they tend to meld with your soul once you do in one way or another.

From the start, Joel was intimidating. He was so frayed around the edges that you were afraid he'd completely unravel in the middle of your journey. He didn't seem to care for your company as the two of you traveled across the plains to Jackson, hesitation poisoning every fiber of your being, but you kept on with the strange man since no one else was willing to trek across the states. You desperately needed a new life, a fresh start away from the Boston QZ, and Jackson sounded like the perfect spot.

Over time, Joel opened up, conversing little by little as you drove for miles across the now barren US. Usually, after you had a close call with raiders or the lone gunman, he'd go silent, the weight of protecting someone other than himself sinking further into his soul, consuming that much further.

What you never expected was for him to be your first touch.

Sweltering tension slowly grew like a wildfire. Catching each other's curious stares, lingering fingers, and salacious banter until, one night, he slid a cautious hand into your panties. He claimed your untouched sex when you confessed over a roaring fire and a bottle of whiskey that you'd never been with another. His weathered hands were gentle as he sunk his fingers into your core, watching with rabid fascination as you came for the first time, gasping from his touch.

The following day, as he drove you across the interstate with the sun slowly rising, he made sure you knew that wouldn't happen again. "I'm much too old. Don't wanna waste your time with a mean ol' grump like me."

You didn't bring it up again.

One month after settling into Jackson, picking bedrooms, and deciding who would do which chores, Joel had his first taste of you.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

You chewed your dinner slowly in the modestly sized dining room across from Joel. You were so lost in thought that he was concerned enough to ask what was wrong.

"What does it mean when a man eats you out?" you naively pondered, causing him to choke on his veggies.

Joel had never looked so red before as he took a long drink of whiskey. You instantly apologized, explaining that you overheard a group of women conversing while you tended the communal garden.

He raised a hand, curbing your frantic rambles. "S'ok. Figured you'd be learnin' things. Just didn' think I'd be the one you'd ask."

"But I trust you."

His jaw twitched at your words.  

Later that night, Joel fell to his knees at the edge of your bed and tossed your legs over his broad shoulders. "Never tasted a pussy so sweet," he mumbled against your glistening folds as you ran your fingers through his graying curls. You came multiple times on his tongue, grinding his whiskered jaw while he hungrily lapped at your soaked folds like he was dying of thirst.

You didn't bring it up again.

It's warmer in Jackson now. The sun hangs longer in the sky. Snow boots and jackets are stowed away until the next freeze.

You slink from the warmth of your bed and pad sockless across the hall. Lightening flickers brightly under the starry sky. The night rain storm slowly whirls through the city, soaking everything in its path.

Joel's door is open. A soft smile tugs at your lips; it's his way of saying he's still up. He keeps it ajar while he reads before rolling onto his side and bidding goodnight to the world.

Three soft knocks alert Joel from the guitar-building manual he's currently reading. Dread clouds his mind for a moment, wondering why you'd be knocking on his door at this time of night, but he takes a deep breath and grounds himself in the softness of his bed.

"Yeah?" he calls out. His tone is rough around the edges after a long day on patrol.

You poke your head around the door with a timid smirk. He looks at you over his reading glasses before marking his spot and laying his book on the side table.

You don't say anything as you stride into his room. He notices your oversized shirt swaying at your knees before you climb into his bed and curl against his side like a cat. 

He drapes an arm around your shoulder, unconsciously pulling you closer.

"'Nother bad dream?" he questions with a low rumble.

You shake your head. "Can't sleep."

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder and feel him nod, understanding the endless struggle for a night of peaceful sleep. It's improved since moving to Jackson, but the dreams never end.

Silence fills the bedroom except for the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Joel leans against the headboard, sighs through his nose, and lets his thoughts drift. He's content to sit with you in his arms for as long as possible, even if that makes him selfish.

He wonders if you hope to find someone to settle down with, someone less ridged and mentally maimed, someone less him.

The thought drives a stake through his heart.

He'd be crazy to say he didn't love being around you. Your laugh and lopsided smile took the first brick out of his impenetrable fortress when you spied a deer and her calf frolicking in an open field in Kansas. From then on, it became easier for him to let his walls down.

When you came to him with those big doe eyes and urges about wanting to know what it's like to be touched and desired, he gave in each time despite his reasoning.

He would masturbate each time after getting his hands on you, also thinking about the early days when he'd catch glimpses of you changing or the time he first saw you naked while showering at the YMCA. 

He's still trying to figure out what to make of you. Friends? Lovers? He certainly didn't mean to fall head over heels. Love had no place in his heart, but he'd be a fool to say he wasn't extremely fond of you.

"Can you make me feel good again?" your lithe voice broke the silence.

Joel stops breathing. Your question doused him like a cold bucket of water. He knew this would come back and haunt him.

His hand curls tight around your shoulder as he wrestles with the devil on his shoulder. "Told ya we shouldn't keep doin' this, Sweetheart," he reasons, trying not to break your heart.

"But I can't make myself feel as good as when you've done it. I've tried!" You whine, burying your face into his chest.

"S'not that I don't wanna," he admits, soothing your soft cries. "S'just, you're too precious to do that wit' someone like me."

You lift your head and brazenly brush your lips against the exposed skin of his collarbone, earning a low groan as he curls a large hand around the back of your neck. He tugs you away from his skin, your lips still forming a tight 'O', and pins you with a stern gaze.

"Joel, it hurts." Your watery eyes and trembling bottom lip are his downfall.

"Lay back, Sweetheart, and spread your legs," he orders with a husky tone.

You don't make a noise; too afraid he'll stop if you do. Your cunt beats against the gusset of your panties as you lay on your back, spreading and bending both legs at the knee, just like he taught you.

A warm breath fans down your face as he shifts down your body before kneeling between your legs and tracing teasing fingers over your covered mound. His nails lightly scratch along the worn cotton, making you suck in a frantic breath. He slips a practiced hand beneath the crotch of your panties and deftly explores your folds, gently rubbing small circles on your clit after wetting his fingers with the arousal that's pouring from your cunt.

"Oh, she's achin' real bad, huh?" he groans as your opening clenches beneath his wandering touch.

"Joel, please, I need-" You gasp, hips wantonly grinding against his hand, desperate for any type of friction.

The muscles in his jaw ache. It's only natural you'd be wanting more.

Before he thinks twice, Joel draws his cock out from his sweatpants. Your stomach cramps at the sight as it smacks against his belly; he's massive.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs like a solid, dangerous threat. It weeps from the dusky tip, shiny liquid dripping from the crown as he squeezes his hand around the girthy base peppered with dark gray, wiry hair.

"Got somethin' that'll make you feel good, sweet girl." he grits, tapping his cock against the covered crux of your pussy. It thwaps devastatingly against your clit, forcing a gasp from your lips as mind-numbing pleasure races up your spine and leaves you staring dumbly up at him.

"S'that what you need? Need my cock to keep 'er from achin so bad'?" his cock is searing as it lies in wait atop your panty-clad mound. You swear you can feel his blood pumping steadily into his shaft.

He cautiously thrusts his hips, sliding his length along your cotton-covered mound. Your slick arousal seeps thru the material, wetting the thin cotton and creating a sensuous touch as he glides along your cunt.

He shoves your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, "Such'a beauty."

Your cheeks flame at his words. Having such a man say things about you makes you lightheaded.

Joel groans as your panties practically are now see-through from your combined fluids staining the cotton, "Oh, baby." You whine at his pet name. "I got ya. Keep those legs open, just like I taught ya. S'good girl."

He keeps a steady pace, sawing back and forth over your extremely soaked mound. Your puffy pussy lips stick to the soaked cotton, leaving nothing to Joel's imagination. He glides easily along your slit, your juices smoothing his path until your arching your back and chanting his name like a prayer.

Watching you orgasm under his touch is enough to drive him wild. He throws all sense of logic out the window. He's okay with being selfish again.

"Let's get these off, yeah." He hooks two fingers under the elastic and slides your panties off before his words register in your euphoric haze. "Feel even better without 'em."

He swallows hard at the sight laid out before him. The sheets splay and curve around your naked body, making you look like an ethereal being sent to test his limits.

"Gonna give 'er a kiss, Sweetheart," his deep timbre vibrates your body as he draws close and touches the bulbous tip of his cock to your exposed folds. Blood rushes to your cunt instantly, bordering on the edge of pain. You cry out from the intense contact, and arousal slips freely down your crack as he traces his cockhead up and down your soaked slit.

"How's she feel?" He anchors his head, looking down at you from under his lashes.

"S'nice," you half whisper, half moan. The wanton bliss slowly consumes you the more he rubs against your sticky folds, keeping a hand locked around his girthy base, his crown glistening with your combined arousal.

Your eyes tear open, back arching like a bow, when he cants his hips and taps his cock square in the center of your cunt.

"M'not gonna fuck you, sweet girl, wanna keep you whole," he declares, holding true to his word despite the overwhelming need to claim you.

He can't be the one to sully you. "Ain' much left'a this world that's as sweet n' pure as you."

Your core quivers as his dusky, throbbing crown glides along your glistening seam. He tentatively explores uncharted areas, brows furrowed with concentration, fighting with inner demons who want to claim, corrupt, and mold you for only his touch.

His name leaves your lips with a mess of desperate, frustrated moans, "Please, Joel."

He snaps out of his haze. He's done almost everything he can to keep you safe and protected in this new way of life. He'll be damned if he doesn't grant you anything you ask for.

"S'hurtin' somethin' fierce, huh?" He grunts, angling his hips until his cock lines up with your fluttering hole. "Bet she needs somethin' big'er than fingers to ease 'er throbbin'."

His cock catches on your opening, forcing a hiss through his clenched teeth. As tight as you are, he can't stop from pushing into your warmth. He blocks out any sense of reasoning that's shouting from the back of his mind as he slowly nudges his cock into your weeping, inviting hole.

Joel goes brain-dumb momentarily, watching in immoral awe as your core ever so slowly swallows his fat tip and breaches your quivering hole, forcing a raspy whine from your throat.

So warm, safe, and wet.

Joel's never felt anything like you. He wants to bury himself, slide his cock as deep as he can, claim every inch, endlessly fill you with his cum, and keep you only for him.

You frantically reach for him, hands clutching the air as he rubs a callous thumb over your clit while keeping a steady hold on the base of his cock.

"S'all she's gonna get," he states, returning to his senses and hissing when your cunt tightens. "S'just the tip."

A soft begging whine bubbles from your lips as you extend your arms, needing something solid to hold before latching onto his wrists.

Your hips move on their own, desperate to feel his length completely shunted in your velvet warmth, but brute hands envelop your hips and pin them to the bed.

He shakes his head, salt and pepper curls fraying across his forehead. "Don' be greedy now." He tuts, narrowing his gaze down at you.

A garbled mess of nonsense tumbles from your lips as your fingernails dig into his muscular, hairy forearms.

"I know. S'big, huh?" He lands a solemn thumb on your clit, rubbing tender circles around the tiny bud. "Stay wit' me, sweet girl. Wanna feel you come on my cock."

Your mind spins. It's all too much, and yet, not enough. Your head tosses from side to side, and you're frantic to survive, breathing hard and fast, waiting for the drop to come and, at the same time, never wanting it to come.

"Don't I deserve it? Keepin' you safe all this time." Joel muses, stroking his cock in time with his teasing thumb. His eyes never leave where he's splitting you open. He's barely penetrating you, but it's enough to know if he had, you'd be struggling to take him.

"Come on, Sweetheart. Let go f'me," he urges, his touch growing faster. Severe, tightly drawn circles tease you closer to the edge.

Your stomach flips. A heaviness settles in your throat, your heart lodging in the tight confines, your blood pumping faster and faster. A lithe whine slithers free, escaping into the dimly lit room and burrows into Joel's mind.

His jaw clenches, and a dark growl rumbles from his chest, "Thatta' girl. Make'a fuckin' mess'a me."

Your dripping hole quivers and throbs around his swollen tip as you come with a silent scream, body locking taut, trying its best to engulf his length entirely.

Joel curses, jerking his length with long, steady tugs and rubbing his weeping, cream-covered tip around your soaked folds before his spine goes straight, and he yanks his cock from your core, curling in on himself and spilling his seed all over your belly with a deep, gravelly moan.

You sag into his sheets, spent with a shiny thin layer of dew and white ropes of spend painted across your abdomen.

"Shit." Joel curses, breathing heavily as he holds himself by his hands, which press into the mattress by your head, keeping you locked beneath him.

You hold his studious gaze. His dark eyes ruminate, tinged with mood, as his gaze drills down into your very core, threatening to demolish your soul. You resign that this was nothing special. Just another night you won't talk about again.  

Joel eases off of you with a grunt, his bones aching from the tension despite the brief, pleasurable relief, and tucks his cock back away into his sweatpants. He shuffles to the bathroom momentarily before returning with a damp washcloth.

He wipes the cloth over your belly and between your thighs, cleaning the combined arousal from your skin before chucking the rag into the hamper with a sigh.

"I know," you mutter, grimacing as you roll onto your side and sit up, tugging your shirt down. "I won't mention it again."

A solid, warm hand on your shoulder stops your retreat. "Stay," Joel whispers with soft, yearning eyes. "I wan' you to stay, sweet girl."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

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