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smileysuh · 1 year ago

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seeing double

🌙staring. Johnny & John x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “As much as I’d love to fuck two of you, I know you’ve always been interested in a threesome with two guys, and we both know I’m too protective to let anyone else touch you. I found this cloning spell and I figured, if there’s one man I can share you with, it’s myself.”

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, degradation, y/n calls Johnny daddy twice, John calls y/n whore/slut/bitch once each cuz he's an ass, demonic double John is a bit of a dick, anal fingering, deep throating, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, double penetration (pussy/mouth), triple penetration (pussy/mouth/finger in ass), spanking, choking, biting, punishment, blindfold/sensory deprivation, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, John cums on her face, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.9k

🍭 aus. Warlock Johnny, established relationship, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. ya'll thought one Johnny was enough for us, but I give you double John- threesome of the year

“Do you trust me?” Johnny asks, pulling away from a breathtaking kiss to lock his gaze with your own. His hands are gentle on your hips, but something in his smile makes you uneasy.

“It depends,” you admit. “I thought I trusted you last month when you decided summoning a demon was a good idea but that didn’t turn out very well, did it, Johnny?”

“What do you mean?” he laughs. “That was a great idea! He gave me a new spell book!”

“Yeah, a book of black magic! Please tell me you haven’t been messing around with that again-”

“Fine, I haven’t been messing around with it,” Johnny pulls you deeper into his room, “I’ve been reading it.”

“Johnny-”

“Trust me on this one, I found a spell and I think you’ll really like it!”

You can’t believe you’re humoring your boyfriend on this, but with a sigh, you take a seat on his bed. “Fine, what is it?”

“It’s a cloning spell,” Johnny grins, picking up the Demonic Grimoire.

“A cloning spell?” you repeat, eyes widening. “Are you trying to suggest a threesome or something? You know, if you want another girl to join, it’s easier to just go find one rather than conjure up a double-”

“Not another girl,” Johnny cuts you off. “As much as I’d love to fuck two of you, I know you’ve always been interested in a threesome with two guys, and we both know I’m too protective to let anyone else touch you. I found this cloning spell and I figured, if there’s one man I can share you with, it’s myself.”

You simply stare at him for a moment, trying to register his words. “You mean… you want to…”

“Conjure up a clone of myself, and rail you with him, yeah.” Johnny’s grin widens. “Besides, that demon did warn me that most of the shit in this Grimoire is made for sin, and what’s more sinful than this? Lust, gluttony, pride, greed, sloth, hell, even envy is probably going to pop up. Maybe you’ll feel a little wrath too, if you act bratty. We can do all seven of the deadly sins in one go!”

You find yourself laughing. “You sound way too excited about committing cardinal sins, Johnny.”

“Well, I am half demon, remember.”

Sometimes you do forget that your sweet boyfriend is partly demonic. But his stint with the pentagram last month had reminded you just how close to Hell he really is, even behind his large smile and the ‘I love you’s’ that he showers onto you daily.

Many warlocks have a demon mark. Some have horns, or a tail- some sort of clear sign that they’re not of this world. But your Johnny? The only mark he has connecting him to the land below is heterochromia, one eye with a black iris, the other brown. In low lighting, it’s almost easy to miss the slight difference in color, and your boyfriend blends seamlessly into the human world with something as mundane as a pair of sunglasses. Others of his kind aren’t nearly as lucky.

It’s been over twenty years since all manner of ‘night beings’ revealed themselves to your world. Vampires, witches, warlocks, werewolves, demons, angels- the list goes on. And while humanity has gotten used to these ‘others,’ they’re not fully accepted yet either. You have family members who would have a heart attack if they knew what you got up to with Johnny every week.

“Come on, baby,” Johnny sets his Grimoire down in favor of grabbing your hand. “I’ll only do it if you want to give it a try.”

“Is it easy to cancel the spell?” you ask. “Last time you conjured that cat with batwings we couldn’t get rid of it for a week-”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t love Mister Whisker-Bat by the end of the week though, you were just as sad to see him go as I was,” Johnny insists. “But yeah, canceling the spell is easy. I’ll be using one of my hairs for the spell, to get rid of the double, all we have to do is light the small alter - and hair - on fire.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Is that a yes?” Johnny’s eyes widen. “You’ll have a threesome with me and me?”

You laugh at his choice of words. “You can conjure him and we can see what he’s like, how’s that sound?”

“Trust me, baby, you’ll love him.” Johnny flashes you a wink, his brown eye disappearing momentarily so all you see is the black one. It’s a quirk of his, whenever he winks, it’s always the demon eye on full display.

“How are you so sure about this?” you ask, standing from the bed and wrapping your arms around the back of Johnny’s neck, looking up at him with a smile. His confidence is one of the things you love most about him, even if it does get him into trouble.

“I just am, it’s a feeling I have.” He shrugs, hands finding your hips.

It’s impossible to be this close to your boyfriend and not kiss him, so that’s what you do, pressing your mouth against his. It’s gentle at first, but as with everything when it comes to your warlock boyfriend, it quickly turns heated.

Johnny’s tongue swipes across your lip, begging for entry. You invite him into your mouth, stifling a moan at the feeling as his hands hold you closer, tugging you flush to his chest.

You have no idea what tonight will be like, but you do trust Johnny. He’d never let you get hurt, and you doubt his clone will either.

Your fingers slip up to thread through his hair. He’s had it dyed a blondish grey for as long as you’ve known him, and you’re living for the way it sets off his skin tone. You’d half expected the strands to be crunchy when you’d first kissed him months ago, but his hair is as smooth as silk- Johnny has some sort of potion hair mask that he uses to keep himself shiny and soft.

You tug gently on his hair and Johnny groans against your mouth, digging his digits against your hips. He’d said he needs hair for this spell to work, and you narrow in on two strands, biting his lip at the same time you give a rough yank.

“Ow!” Johnny yelps, pulling away from you. He looks down at you with wide eyes.

“You said you needed hair for the spell,” you grin, holding out the strands. “Here, I was just trying to help.”

He gives you a look that says he doesn’t quite believe you, and it only makes your smile widen.

“Okay,” Johnny sighs. “Let’s do this.”

You watch him approach the small alter he’s made on his desk. There’s a large, circular mirrored tray as the base. Covering the reflective surface is a number of dried herbs and other warlock items, a bottle of something dark red, what looks like salt or ash- there’s also a few runes decorating the space, and bits of parchment covered in incantations.

Johnny sets his hair in the center, then pulls a lighter out of his jean pocket. He lifts a black candle, igniting it. As the flame licks the wick, Johnny begins to speak in some form of demonic language, picking up the Grimiore with his free hand.

You practically hold your breath, watching him as he tilts the candle at an angle, allowing the hot wax to drip down onto his hair, sticking it to the mirror. When he seems satisfied with the amount of black wax, he sets the candle down next to the hairs.

His voice has taken on a deeper edge as he continues reading the spell, and you can practically see the power begin to radiate off your warlock boyfriend, like grey waves resounding out from his flesh, echoing through the room.

Your hair stands on edge, a slight heat overtaking you, and you smell the familiar scent of brimstone. It’s a smell you’ve become accustomed to since Johnny apprehended the Grimoire in his hands, and it’s always given you an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You like to think of Johnny as your soft boyfriend, but he’s a warlock, and the demonic side of him is never more evident than on nights like these.

You’re not sure what to expect as Johnny’s spell work comes to an end. Bat-cat had appeared in a puff of smoke, but as you look around, there’s no dark cloud, no evident conjuration-

“Huh,” Johnny cocks his head to the side. “That should have worked-”

The lights flicker out, the room going dark aside from the one black candle burning on the altar.

Then, just as suddenly, the lights turn back on, and your gaze shifts to the switch by the door. Your breath catches as you take in the man standing there, one hand lazily touching the switch. Johnny’s double has appeared, and he’s the one who just turned the lights back on.

“Hi, losers.”

While the new Johnny clone is wearing the same white shirt and black jeans combo your boyfriend has on, this Johnny has dark hair. You’ve always loved your boyfriend’s coloured strands, but there’s something so regal about the dark brown- it sets off the sharp angles of his face, and leaves you breathless.

“Who are you calling losers?” Johnny retorts, closing the Grimiore and turning to face the double at the door.

“I’m calling you two losers,” the clone grins. “You’re a loser for wanting a threesome with yourself, and she’s a loser for agreeing to it.”

“You’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you?” your boyfriend laughs.

“Not any more than you. I’m your double, anything I say or do is something you would say or do, well, it would be if you let your demonic side out more often. You’re so good at keeping that part of you under lock and key, but not tonight. Here I am.” The double pushes off from the wall, approaching your boyfriend. “Don’t be mad if you don’t like what you see.”

“I’m not mad about what I see,” Johnny says thoughtfully, “I’m just wondering why your hair is so dark. Thought you were supposed to be a clone.”

“My hair is like your demon side, you can try to cover it up, make it lighter, but this spell always knows your true self. Besides, baby thinks I look good with this hair colour,” the clone’s gaze shifts to you, and he flashes you that classic Johnny grin, “isn’t that right, baby?”

“I-” your words get choked in your throat, and you swallow thickly, looking between your boyfriend and his darker double. “Johnny-”

“Another charade to appear nicer,” the clone clicks his tongue. “Your blonde, soft-looking boyfriend might go by the name Johnny. But tonight, you’ll call me John.”

“You’re not the one calling the shots tonight,” your boyfriend interjects, “but… having two different names for us isn’t a bad idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” John smirks, “you came up with it yourself.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

The two handsome men exchange a knowing glance, and your insides twist with anticipation.

They’re gonna fuck you up and you just know it.

“So, since I’m not the one calling the shots,” John sighs, gaze shifting to you again, “how about you tell me how this is going to go? I’d hate to step on any… toes.”

He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you up. You’re used to Johnny’s black iris, but John’s dark hair makes it stand out even more. It’s noticeably demonic, and it makes your heart race in your chest. You feel like a prey being sized up by a predator, and something about it has your panties getting wet.

“You know what?” your soft lover cocks his head to the side. “Baby, how about you tell us what you want to do? You’re the one who’s about to be railed, you should get to choose how it happens, don’t you think?”

“I like how you say that as if you’ll actually fully listen to her,” John scoffs.

“What do you mean? I always give baby a say in things.”

“Yeah. Sure. Except you nudge her in the direction you want to go. We both know it’s only going to take a little stroking, a little making her gag on our cocks, and she’ll be putty in our fucking hands. Baby just wants to please, isn’t that right, pretty girl?” John’s grin widens when all you can do is stare at him.

There might be a response for his lewd observation, but you’re already feeling nice, submissive and dumb. There are no thoughts in your head except ‘holy fuck.’

This dark John is really hot, especially when contrasted by your light boyfriend.

You’re literally in awe, lips parted ever so slightly, your body tingling with anticipation.

“You know what?” Johnny sighs. “You’re right. We both know baby loves when we’re in control, so lets just… be in control.”

“Now you’re talking,” John grins. “I’ve got a suggestion.”

“Let's hear it.”

“What if we blind fold her? Make her guess who’s touching. Punishment for wrong answers.”

“Punishment?” you ask, voice coming out much shakier than you’d meant for it to.

“Nothing you won’t like,” John assures you. “Now be a good girl and grab the blindfold from the bedside table for us.”

Your eyes shift to Johnny, and he gives you a small nod. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn and do as you’re asked, holding out the silky eye covering a moment later.

“Now put it on,” John instructs. “And this time, don’t look at him for permission. Just do it.”

You do as you’re told, hands shaky as you cover your sight with a strip of darkness. As soon as your vision is blocked, you feel more sensitive. You feel even more like prey. Most of all, you feel vulnerable.

There’s a half-demon warlock and a dark clone with demonic intentions staring at you like they want to eat you up. To top it all off, you’ve now just blocked off one of the most important senses.

The bed dips next to you, and you jump slightly from the motion.

A large hand smooths across the back of your neck, angling you to face the side, and then lips are pressing against your own.

This mouth is familiar, and you lean into the kiss, letting out a sigh of relief. You reach out, grabbing at the man’s knee to steady yourself, wanting to get lost in the person’s lips-

But then they’re pulling back. “Guess who?” they ask, voice soft.

“Johnny?”

A small chuckle, and you realize immediately that you’ve already failed the first test.

“How easy it is to trick you, baby.” He lets out a deep sigh, pulling away completely, standing from the bed. “Time for your first punishment. I think three smacks should suffice. Get on all fours, and say thank you for each one.”

Your skin tingles, heart beating wildly in your chest. You do as you’re told.

Getting into a doggy position, you bend down slightly, arching your back. You’re on edge, listening intently for movement. Soft footfalls let you know someone is approaching, and then two hands grab your asscheeks through your pants, squeezing roughly.

“First three through the jeans, but once we’re done with you, I’m taking these off.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, and you let out a small moan of affirmation.

Your panties are sticking to your core already, and the first hit makes you cry out, pussy clenching around nothing. It had been a heavy-handed smack, harder than Johnny has ever hit you before- but there’s something almost delicious about it.

Your toes curl, and you suck in a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

“Good girl,” someone praises you.

Another smack has you moaning even louder, grabbing at the bed sheets and bunching them up in your hands. “Fuck, thank you!”

The third hit has you practically trembling. You can already feel a bruise forming- but the pain is perfection, in a masochistic kind of way.

“Thank you!”

“Time to guess who delivered your punishment, baby.”

You feel like a dumb little slut. You’re already slipping into sub-space, delirious and horny. If you had it your way, maybe you wouldn’t even want to speak full sentences anymore. Your mind is swimming, and nothing feels coherent.

“I-” you lick your lips. The smacks had been hard. “John?”

“Wrong again, pretty girl. Your soft boyfriend is the one who just punished you, but I guess he’s not so soft anymore. In fact… I’d say he’s quite hard. We both are.”

“Fuck-” you groan, imagining your boyfriend’s cock all stiff in his pants- then you remember that the visual should be doubled, and you can feel your mouth beginning to water.

“Second punishment, suck us off. We’ll see if you really know your boyfriend’s cock or not.”

A hand grabs at you, helping you off the bed and onto your knees on the floor. “Johnny?” you ask.

“Wow, you finally got one right.” The laugh that fills the room is distinctly clone like.

“Do I get a reward, John?”

“The reward is you get to suck cock, and since you just got two in a row, you’ll get to suck both of us.”

It’s almost comical how reward and punishment are the same thing, but you’re in too deep to question it.

Now is not the time to be bratty, and you know it.

There’s a small shuffle in front of you, and then someone instructs you to “Stick out your tongue.”

You do as you’re told, and a second later, a cock is tapped against your wet muscle. You fight the urge to try to suck on it, allowing the man to coat themselves in your saliva. You even begin to drool, and you feel a drip make its way down your chin.

“Suck.”

You immediately lean forward, swallowing the bulbous head into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, and you sink down as far as you can. Johnny has a big cock, you’ve never been able to take it all, but that never stops you from trying.

Your hands brace against someone’s thighs, and you begin to bob your head. The man above you lets out a groan, fingers threading through your hair, guiding you to bob faster, taking more and more into your mouth.

“Guess who,” the man you’re sucking on breathes.

You pull off his cock, feeling a line of spit still connecting you to the best dick you’ve ever had. “Johnny.”

“That’s my girl.” He pulls you onto him again, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. Your fingers dig into his thighs. You push your reflex away, doing your best to please your boyfriend.

“Fuck it,” comes a rough voice, “my turn.”

A second hand grabs your hear, tugging you away from your boyfriend’s cock- only for the same cock to be pushed past your lips.

It’s sinful how exact the clone is. He has the same large vein running along the underside of his length, the same mushroom tip, the same slight curve, the same taste-

But his motions are different. He’s more aggressive, forcing you all the way onto him like you’d willingly taken Johnny just moments ago. The sudden feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat with no prep - no sucking to start - has you gagging hard, your eyes beginning to water.

Grabbing onto his thighs to steady yourself, you do your best to relax, to focus on the sounds beginning to leave John’s lips, but as he fucks your face, it’s hard not to feel every inch of him.

“Don’t be so rough,” Johnny tuts.

“Don’t be a backseat vouyer,” John retorts.

“She’s being good for you, why are you being so mean?”

“This is part punishment, remember?” You listen to the clone click his tongue, and then he’s tearing your blindfold off. “Besides, I like how she looks when she cries.”

This is so sick and twisted.

If John is saying this, it means that somewhere, buried inside your soft boyfriend, he also likes seeing your eyes well with tears.

You struggle to open your eyes, looking up at John. He’s staring down at you, and he releases a deep groan when he notices you watching him. “You love this, don’t you, baby? You love being used like our little fuck toy. Love taking this big cock deep in your fucking throat-”

You hate that he’s right.

Your panties must be soaked by now.

“Fuck-” Johnny whispers, and you wonder how it looks for him to watch himself fuck your face like this. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough.”

“It’s enough,” your boyfriend states, firmer this time.

“Someone finally grew a backbone,” John laughs, pulling his cock from your mouth. You gasp at the loss, a line of spit still connecting you to the rock-hard length in front of your face. Tears trail down your cheeks, and you’re breathing heavily. You dig your fingers into John’s thighs, marveling in the moment of reprieve.

“Are you alright, baby?” Johnny asks. When you turn to look at him, concern is evident all over his face.

You nod, and it takes a moment for you to find your voice. “Yes, daddy.”

“Fuck, I forgot she calls us that sometimes.”

“She calls me daddy sometimes,” Johnny corrects, “and only when she’s in subspace- you really did a number on her.”

“We did a number on her. You started it with the spankings, remember?”

Johnny ignores his clone, reaching down to help you to your feet. He leads you to sit on the bed, getting onto his knees so he can be eye level with you. “He wasn’t too rough on you, was he?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“You’re still good for this?”

You nod, reaching forward to grab at the front of his white tshirt. Johnny lets you pull him in for a kiss, his large hands smoothing along your thighs.

Your tongue dips out to stroke his own and your boyfriend groans, squeezing you through your jeans. “Pants off,” he says, dragging his lips from yours so he can begin to tear your clothes from your body.

It’s shocking how quickly he gets you down to your underwear, and then he pushes you onto the bed. He pries your thighs open, and you feel two sets of dark eyes on your core.

“Already soaked. I knew you liked being our good little cock slut.”

“I guess I should give you a taste first, seeing as the only cock that’s going inside this pussy tonight is mine,” your boyfriend sighs, pressing one kiss to your knee before standing up to make space for his clone.

“Yeah, our cock.”

“My cock,” Johnny says, firmly this time. “You only get her mouth.”

“What’s the point of a demonic threesome if she’s not going to be properly double stuffed?” John asks, sinking down onto the floor between your spread thighs.

“One in the pussy, one in the mouth is double stuffed.”

“We both know I want her ass,” John rolls his eyes.

“I’ve never even been in her ass, don’t get greedy.” Johnny clicks his tongue.

Their bantering is doing something to you. The way they discuss this so confidently as if you’re not even in the room- you’re getting a view of Johnny’s inner thoughts, the battles he has with his demonic self-

He’s never talked to you about anal. But then again, his cock is so big it had taken you a while to even be able to receive it fully in your pussy, let alone somewhere else.

“If you’re good tonight, I’ll consider conjuring you again,” Johnny says finally.

You swallow thickly, gaze shifting to your soft boyfriend who’s really taken the reigns over his demonic double. John chuckles between your legs, shaking his head slightly before pressing his lips to your inner thigh.

“Did you hear that, baby?” John asks. “Sounded like a challenge to make you cum.”

“Then I guess…” your voice is much to hoarse and shuddery for your liking, “I guess you better not disappoint.”

The clone between your legs scoffs loudly. “As if disappointing you was ever an option.”

You open your mouth to respond, only for John to press his face against your panty-covered core. His tongue flicks through the soaked fabric, teasing by your clit and making your legs twitch. Your hands fly to grab at his dark hair, and a whimper slips out of you.

He’s being a tease, and from the way he’s looking up at you, smirking while kissing your pussy through your panties, John clearly knows what he’s doing. You shift under his mouth, laying back against the bed and pushing your core closer to him, tightening your grip in his hair.

“Please-”

“Begging already?” Johnny asks, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Thought you’d hold out a little longer.”

“Can’t,” you mewl, arching your back as John pulls your panties to the side, blowing cool air along your throbbing cunt. “I need-” You lick your lips, gaze dropping to Johnny’s hard cock.

“You want something to suck on, don’t you, baby?” Johnny grins, reaching out to stroke your face as his clone’s tongue dives into your core.

“Yes,” you nod, accepting your boyfriend’s thumb past your lips. You moan around the digit, thighs clenching as John sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking at it with his tongue while you stroke Johnny’s finger with your own.

“I guess I can let you suck me off for a bit, get you ready to take him in your throat-” Johnny muses. “But I want you on all fours, I wanna fuck your face, and I can’t do it at this angle.”

The man between your thighs pulls away suddenly, and his large hands easily flip you over, getting you ready for your boyfriend. It must be nice for him to have such a willing participant in the bedroom- you’re pretty sure Johnny could make any command, and John would follow through with getting it set up for him.

They have a one-track mind, and you’d bet your life that John is just as excited to get you on all fours as Johnny is.

Two large hands grip your ass, spreading your cheeks while Johnny shuffles to his knees and presents his cock to you. As you accept Johnny past your lips, a tongue presses into your wet hole again, and your toes curl at the stimulus.

“Just like that, baby,” Johnny coos, pushing your hair out of your face. “You suck on me, while he sucks on you.”

John growls against your clit, squeezing your ass roughly and shaking his head back and forth, earning a squeal that’s muffled by Johnny’s cock, which begins to glide in and out of your mouth.

“It’s funny- I can almost taste you,” Johnny muses. “I wonder if he can feel you on his cock like I can-”

The double pulls his lips from your pussy, and you can feel him momentarily panting, trying to catch his breath from the enthusiastic way he’s been eating you out. “I can feel it,” John confirms. “She’s always so good at sucking us off, even if she can’t fit much of us in that little mouth of hers.”

“She’s gotten better at blow jobs,” Johnny defends you, sinking further past your lips. “When she started, she could hardly take three inches, now look at her.”

His cock hits the back of your throat and you fight through your gag reflex. Your eyes are watering, so you shut them, focusing on being a good girl for your boyfriends.

Boyfriends. Plural.

You suppose - in this sex-induced haze - you’re already thinking of John as a lover. Any man eating you out as chaotically and thoroughly as he should be considered one, right?

When John’s mouth returns to your pussy and his thumb begins to circle your asshole, you definitely think of him as a boyfriend. Only your boyfriend is allowed to toy with you like this.

“Are you serious?” Johnny’s voice distracts you, the thrusts of his face fucking slowing down. “We just discussed no anal-”

“It’s just a finger,” the clone retorts. “She’ll love it. She’s already practically dripping- reacting all nice and pretty just from the thought, isn’t that right, baby?”

A gentle smack on your ass prompts you to pull off of Johnny’s cock, bracing yourself against one of his thighs while you catch your breath. You find yourself nodding, moaning like a whore in heat. “Please- I can take a finger, I can try-”

“We knew jealousy was a part of this, envy- one of the seven cardinal sins,” teeth graze your butt cheek. “I’m jealous of you getting her mouth and pussy, I’m sure you can suffer through watching me finger fuck this tight ass for the first time. We both know you’ll be the first to actually fuck it sooner or later- why can’t you let me have this one win? Come on Johnny, she’ll love it. You conjured me to make her feel good, didn’t you?”

“Fuck, you’re too convincing,” Johnny sighs, stroking your face. “Beg him for it, baby. I need to know you actually want this.”

“I want it so bad,” you whimper, a rush of emotion flooding through you. “Please, I wanna be full- I wanna feel it-” A strangled gasp escapes your lips when John spits on your ass, rubbing the fluid around your tight hole before pressing the tip of his finger inside of you. “Oh my god-”

Johnny threads his fingers through your hair, tugging so you’re forced to look up at him. “The moment you cum, we’re switching positions and I’m fucking you, got it, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moan.

“Now open up.”

You do as you’re told, and Johnny slips his cock back into your mouth, picking up where he’d left off.

Generally, when you’re blowing Johnny, it’s hard to focus on anything else. But today, it’s hard to focus on anything other than John, whose finger fills your ass perfectly while his tongue circles your clit like magic.

You can feel a pleasure bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and each rough thrust from Johnny has your body tensing, the orgasmic coil wrapping tighter and tighter-

Despite the cock in your mouth, lewd sounds are escaping you. A gurgling noise that you know you should be ashamed of- but you can’t bring yourself to care, mind occupied on the high that’s approaching much too quickly.

It’s clear that John wants you to cum. He wants to tear your pleasure out of you faster than you can even think-

His thumb massages your inner walls, stretching your tight hole open and making your toes curl.

“That’s it baby,” Johnny praises you, his grip tight in your hair while he fucks your face. “Taking us both so well.”

You can feel a tear of overstimulation roll down your cheek. This is almost too much for you to handle, and you haven’t even cum yet.

One particularly rough thrust has your throat constricting around Johnny, and it’s the last bit of stimulus you need to come completely undone for your Johns. Your abdomen tenses, and just like that, the chord snaps. It snaps hard.

You tear your mouth off of Johnny’s cock, practically screaming as your orgasm rips through you like wildfire. Your whole body is alight with pleasure, clit throbbing, pussy contracting around nothing, your ass sucking up John’s finger to betray the deep need that’s grown within you-

All you can do is moan like a desperate whore, clinging to Johnny’s thigh while John helps you ride out your orgasm. The double is unrelenting, as if he wants to work you for every last drop you can give him- his tongue switching between slurping at your clit and diving past your folds, stroking your walls as they shudder.

“Good girl,” Johnny groans, petting your head with one hand while the other wraps around his cock, stroking himself through your high. He’s patient with you, allowing you to experience every shiver and moan, until your walls stop contracting, and John pulls away from your pussy with a wet smack of his lips. “Time for the main event.”

His words make you feel drenched all over again. John pulls his thumb from your ass only to smack it roughly, giving you a squeeze for good measure. “Be sweet for us,” the double warns, as if you’ve ever been anything but their perfect princess.

In just a few moments, Johnny and John have switched. Your light-haired boyfriend sets up behind you while the dark double settles by your face. His cock is red, leaking precum, and you realize you’ve hardly done much to touch him tonight- seeing as he just made you cum, you waste no time wrapping your lips around the mushroom tip, stroking your tongue along the ridge you find there.

“Fuck,” John groans, threading his fingers through your hair to anchor you like your boyfriend had just minutes ago. “Who’s our good little cock whore?”

“She is,” Johnny answers for you, sinking his cock deep into your pussy. “Fuck, our perfect little cock whore.”

He’s never called you this before- but it sounds so natural coming from him and his clone. Is this yet another one of your boyfriend’s fantasies? First anal, and now you being a good little cock whore?

Johnny is generally a man who sticks to praise, and while he’s still doing that- there’s this darker underlayer beginning to be more evident. Maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought. This threesome with your boyfriend’s dark self is illuminating for not only your twisted sexual desires, but Johnny’s as well.

You can’t help the way you react to the term ‘cock whore,’ your pussy clenching tight around the large cock splitting you open. You begin to drool on John too, relaxing your throat as he begins to fuck your face. He might be a dark double, but John’s being shockingly soft with the amount you can take. He’s not thrusting fully- not making you gag and cry- he’s using you like a man who knows and respects your limits.

At least Johnny’s respect for you transcends form.

“You know what?” Johnny says. “I watched how hard she came with your thumb in her ass, I think you’re right about filling her up properly.”

“Bet she’ll go fucking feral for three holes filled,” the clone agrees darkly, making you moan around his cock. “See? Listen to her. She sounds like a bitch in heat. Fill her up, Johnny. She’ll fucking love it.”

These men are downright insatiable- you kind of love it.

Just like his double had, Johnny spits onto your hole, and a moment later, his thumb is pressing past the tight ring of muscles. Your boyfriend’s thrusts falter slightly, his focus lingering on the way you swallow up his digit, fluttering around both foreign intrusions.

“If we’d have known you’d like butt stuff this much, we would have started training you ages ago, baby,” John muses.

“We’ve still got time.”

“I won’t get to fuck her ass tonight. What time do I have?”

“Next time.”

“So I passed the test? There’s gonna be a next time?”

“Based on how our baby is reacting, I’d say there’s definitely going to be a next time,” Johnny laughs.

“Good. I might be a clone from hell, but I think never getting the chance to truly fuck this little kitten of ours would be the true torture.”

The warlock fucking you while pressing his thumb deeper into your ass scoffs loudly. “And we can’t have that, can we?”

“No.” John tightens his grip in your hair, fucking you harder. “We can’t… also, I have something to admit.”

“Oh?” Johnny releases a chuckle, thumb stilling inside of you. “Now this I have to hear.”

“You’re under the impression I’ll be conjured until you light your hair and alter on fire, but unfortunately, at the moment, I’m bound to the candle as well. You missed the fine print in the Grimoire. When the candle reaches its end, I’ll disappear too.”

In your periphery, you’re aware of both men turning to look toward the alter, and your boyfriend releases a small curse word. “I guess we better make this quick.”

“And you should buy a bigger candle next time, that six incher you used tonight is a fucking joke and we both know it.”

“My bad,” Johnny begins railing into you as hard as he had so far, pressing his thumb deep inside of you. “Guess I’m not the best at reading the fine print.”

“It’s okay, something tells me baby can only take so much more of this. She’s drooling all over my cock, her throat all nice and open, so ready to be fucked-” John groans loudly.

“We’ve really fucked her stupid, haven’t we, Big Guy?”

Your skin tingles- there’s an inkling of something deeper in Johnny’s tone… is he… is he flirting with himself?

The man above you moans louder. “Of course we did. Have you ever seen anyone with a better cock than this? And for her to get two of us? She’s the luckiest fucking girl in the whole world- I want her to thank us when we cum. Want her to know how fucking blessed she is by this.”

It’s an interesting paradox- to be blessed by a demonic threesome.

“Are you gonna cum on her face?”

“Fuck, if you let me. She’ll look so pretty all painted in cum.”

“She can’t say thank you if you keep her mouth full,” Johnny notes, digging his fingers against your hips while railing you as hard as ever. Each smack of his hips against your ass has his cock fully buried in your wet core, the tip of his length pressing against your cervix and making your toes curl with insatiable need.

“No, I guess she can’t.” John stuffs himself fully in your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You’ve never felt impaled like this- taking two of the largest dicks you’ve ever had-

Your nose brushes by the dark clone’s pubic hair, and something about it makes you feel even more sinful, your throat constricting while lewd gagging noises fill the room. John holds you on his cock, letting out a deep groan at the feeling of your muscles tightening around him-

“That’s it baby, just a little more-”

“Fuck, she’s squeezing so fucking tight-” Johnny moans from behind you.

“I can feel it,” John breathes.

“When you cum, I’ll have to cum-”

“She’s close too-”

“Fuck.” Johnny pulls his thumb out of your ass suddenly, wrapping his hand around your front so two fingers can circle your clit. At the same time, John takes his cock from your mouth, releasing a loud moan-

You cum in unison with the dark double, and from the loud grunt at your rear, you’re pretty sure Johnny’s just reached his peak as well.

You’re breathing heavily, mind completely delirious. Your throat feels raw as you swallow thickly- “Thank you, fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you-” you begin to blabber as John cums hard on your face, his large hand jerking himself off while ropes paint your skin.

“Good girl, good fucking girl-” Johnny groans behind you, fucking you through your highs while his fingers continue on your clit, drawing out your orgasm while your pussy milks him for every drop of cum he has.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you-” you can’t stop saying it, even while tears and cum begin to drip down your cheeks, your body completely overwhelmed by the two men who know you like the back of their hand.

Above you, John releases one last shuddery breath. He strokes your hair, whispering the word “Perfect-” and then, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, he disappears.

You collapse forward onto the bed, pussy still throbbing around Johnny, who slowly comes to a stop behind you.

Then he’s collapsing as well, laying his warm body against your back and pressing you against the mattress. His lips are hot along your bare shoulders and he seeks out your neck, teasing past your ear.

“You did so good for us,” he praises you. “Such a perfect baby.”

“Johnny-” you whimper, as deep in subspace as you’ve ever been in your whole life.

“I know, baby, I know. You don’t have to talk.” You hear him swallow thickly, and with one last kiss to your throat, he pulls away. “I’m gonna get you in a bath. Gonna wash all this cum off of you and cuddle you to sleep, sound good?”

“Please-” you moan, pussy clenching around him again.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling his cock out of your tight, dripping hole. “We really did a number on you.”

But in all honesty, you really wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! dream threesome tbh

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🔮 preview. “What happened to your manners, baby?” John’s grip increases again, making your head dizzy. “You were sweeter to me last time. Only sweet girls get fucked in the ass. So are you going to be sweet for me? Or am I going to have to punish you into submission?”

cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, anal, blow job, oral, praise, dirty talk, degradation, y/n calls Johnny daddy a few times, demonic double John is a bit of a dick, anal fingering, double penetration (pussy/ass), big dick Johnny, pussy/ass stretching, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.7k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Johnny & John x afab!Reader

bonus

“Surprise, surprise. I didn’t think you two would conjure me again so soon.”

Your heart skips a beat as you turn to find John standing by the door. It’s been less than a month since you’ve seen him last, and like that first time, he’s dressed as the mirror image of your boyfriend. However, it’s not a white shirt and blue jeans, this time, your boyfriend had gone for full black attire, and it matches the dark hair of his demonic double in a way that has you practically throbbing already.

“What can we say?” Johnny grins. “We liked having an extra set of hands.”

“As if our hands are the best thing about us,” John rolls his eyes, pushing off from the wall. He approaches you like a predator, and you’d missed the swagger in his step, it’s a unique stride that has your heart picking up pace in your chest. “There’s no lying to me, not when I know everything you know, Johnny. I’m here tonight because our perfect little baby is finally ready for the main attraction. She wants to be double stuffed. Fully.”

“I guess there’s no point in fucking around,” Johnny laughs, “even if we do have more time than last I conjured you.”

Your gaze shifts to the massive candle burning on the altar. You and Johnny had gone to six different spell shops to find the largest one possible- it’s almost as big as Johnny’s dick when he’s hard, and girthy too. You’ve got all the time in the world tonight- even so, you don’t want to waste a second.

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endursent · 1 day ago

Note

WHAT IF astral express sunday would be too nervous to hold readers hand or hugging them bc his brain goes 💥 until he gets used to it and softens up to reader waa 🎉🎉

HES SO SILLY i want him to explode

【 content; sunday x reader , astral express sunday , fluff , character exploration, mild suggestiveness in one section , gn!reader 】

【 note; see sunday mention. NEURON ACTIVATED. i have neglected sunday writing for too long, it's time to sunday post more. 】

【 word count; 1.818 | read on ao3 | masterlist 】

Even after properly defining your relationship as “definitely happening”, Sunday still struggles to adjust to it—not because he doesn’t know what to do specifically, but because he fails to follow through with a lot of it.

As soon as he meets your eyes and feels the warmth of your skin at the same time, his brain halts in place like a deer caught in headlights—something about the affection and love in your gaze causes him to freeze, to hesitate and draw back.

He wants to enjoy that warmth, he wants to touch your cheek and gaze into your eyes for hours on end, examining every detail of your iris until he has it mapped better than the back of his own hand… but his heart tightens and his arms tingle when he tries.

He’s afraid, scared to overstep thresholds whose doors have long since opened wide for his presence. Afraid to take a wrong turn in the endless hallways of his thoughts and what-ifs.

You don’t push him, you give him time to consider his movement and actions and proceed in the ways he feels comfortable—but you don’t let him pull back too far either. You grasp his hand as it pulls too close to his chest and he swallows when you bring it to yours, you press his palm against your chest and allow him to feel your heartbeat—quickened, excited, yet nervous as well. Sometimes, you’re also nervous. It’s okay to hesitate.

Mere moments like brushing his fingers against yours on accident are enough for his head-wings to shoot up into the air. You had simply been reaching for a pistachio in a bowl on a table where you sat with Sunday next to you, and he had coincidentally reached out as well. “A-ah, my apologies,” he pulls his hand back, wings lowering again as one moves halfway up his cheek in a meagre attempt to disguise the dusty red of his cheeks.

A small smile tugs on your lips and you take an additional nut to give to him. “It’s okay, here.” He holds his palm open for you to place the pistachio in, but instead of doing so, you peel the shell away with a click and hold it towards his lips. “Open up.”

Five or so muscles in his face twitch as he leans back, surprised by your sudden approach and the very intimate gesture of trying to feed him—his eyes flicker to the left where Himeko is positively destroying March 7th in a card game, they’re not paying any attention to the two of you at all.

Sunday’s lips press together and for a moment you wonder if you might have pushed him a little too far, the red hue of his cheeks deepening as he avoids your eyes… and opens his mouth, just a little��barely enough to fit the small pistachio there.

Your fingers touch his lips as you manage to set the pistachio on the tip of his tongue hiding only a little behind the bottom row of his teeth, and Sunday thinks he might explode. The way his upper lip lifted a little and a small drop of drool slid under his tongue—thankfully out of sight but definitely not out of mind—when your finger pushed under it to set the nut in his mouth…

He swallows the pistachio quickly and nervously without chewing it and it almost stops in his throat before he could even realise what he was doing. Sunday might have just perished from embarrassment before the lack of oxygen would kill him were the pistachio to stop in his throat.

Sunday hasn’t stepped off the Express in a while, he does so rather often, all things considered—usually choosing to at least peek out at the worlds you explore. After all, how can he find himself if he doesn’t look?

But he has never experienced a planet like this… you could convince him this is some intergalactically funded horror exhibition if you tried. Long stretches of trees and branches reach into the skies, casting dark shadows on the dull grass that covers the ground as far as one can see. The skies are dark when you hop off the train and practically drag Sunday along.

He walks close to you, unsure if to reassure himself of your presence among the shadows, or to be ready to give his assistance were you to catch your foot on a root and crash on the ground—you’re walking so fast he can't help but think it’s just a matter of time.

You feel something touch your thumb and look down, only to see Sunday’s gloved hand retreat. He’s looking ahead and pretending there is nothing strange happening. “Are you scared?” you wonder, tilting your head to get a better look at his face.

A small frown tugs at his lips, so faint you could barely see it. “Of course not, but I am concerned about us getting lost—do you know where we’re going?”

“Kind of,” you sway your hand a little, seeing if you can fish at where he has retracted his to. “Pom-Pom mentioned there a huge city not far from where we dropped down, this world has some real good puddings if I read right.”

Sunday merely hums in response, following you along. You did finally find the city—high buildings made of darkened wood, but with bright lanterns and strings of lights hanging between buildings to illuminate the streets in a comfortable orange. All the ambiance needs is rain (and for you two be inside a nice café) and it’s perfect.

The streets, however, are a labyrinth.

You get lost only seven minutes after reaching the city, and no matter how you squinted at your phone, you couldn’t wrap your head around the map—and it doesn’t help that despite the darkness, it’s midday, and thus the streets and crowded near shoulder-to-shoulder. This place must be popular despite the gloomy atmosphere.

Having almost lost sight of you wandering around trying to get your bearings in the crowd, Sunday gathers his courage and stomps down his thoughts—and takes your hand.

You stop where you’re going and turn to look at him. “Hm? Is something wrong?”

He still avoids your eyes, but his grip is firm. “You’re… still going in the wrong direction.”

“I am?” you look back down to your phone and tilt it sideways. “Ah! Like this, I get it now… I think.”

Sunday sighs, stepping closer to you as a person shoulder past your positions—and suddenly the two of you are standing far closer than planned, nearly pressed against the wall of a building that leads to the corner of the street. He can’t stop thinking about your hand against his gloved one, and he also can’t help but notice that your fingers feel cold.

As you try to figure out the best path towards the mythical pudding, holding your phone out for Sunday to see as well, his fingers and palm engulf yours and try to move some of his heat to you. His thumb rubs over your palm as you speak and the lack of proper reaction from you, yet still laying your hand out to him, helps him find the gesture more natural and comfortable… something he wouldn’t mind indulging in more often.

Sunday is a very passive person when it comes to affections, he’s rarely the one to reach out first and needs a bit of a push to even come up with romantic gestures. He considers the time you spend together and the understanding between you to be much more precious and indicative of his affections.

However, he gets an idea one time from something he saw when scrolling his phone… to leave notes around. Sunday wasn’t sure of it at first—and a little embarrassed that someone else might find them before you do—but gradually began to find it as an easy way to show his attention.

Sometimes, the notes have a small message on them (mostly reminding you to sleep more) but other times, there’s no message at all. He came to use it as a ‘I thought of you’ message, where he leaves a blank, small post-it on something.

One time you forgot to buy new toothpaste on the Express’ most recent stop and dreaded having to borrow from someone again—until you opened the drawer to fetch your toothbrush and saw a full tube with a small blue post-it on it… now you need to go over to his room and rub his cheeks and thank him for remembering your complaints about always forgetting to buy a new one.

Sunday is a surprisingly good caretaker, you caught some sort of cold or flu on a recent trip off the express and have been miserable in bed for days. Up and down, hot and cold, snot-filled and gross on all ends. But he sits down by your bedside and takes your temperature, lays the back of his hand against your heated skin and does all he can to help.

One aspect he struggled with was when you got whiny one evening and reached out for a hug…

While you might mistake his hesitation for disgust, as you are snot-nosed, puffy eyed and half crying from misery—it’s far from what was on his mind. But Sunday feels his chest tighten at the sight of you so miserable, temporary as it is, and he doesn’t have the heart to refuse your embrace.

He leans down and lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your clammy forehead rubbing into his shirt as he stiffly pats your head and tries to soothe you. “It’s alright… your fever is going down, you’ll be okay soon, just remember to drink the water on the nightstand, okay?” he mumbles by your ear, and the more you nod and thank him for taking care of you, the more his muscles ease and he shifts a bit to lay down with you, allowing you to burrow into the crook of his neck and find comfort in his presence.

Sunday rests his chin over your head and rubs your back. “Would you like me to sing for you?”

You nod into his shoulder and he closes his mouth to hum familiar tunes, the beginning of a familiar song as the vibrations in his chest rumble against you. His voice is soothing, and his singing is surprisingly soft and gentle.

As you drift to well-needed sleep, Sunday stays with you until he’s certain you’ve fallen asleep… and then for a while more, just long enough that he can’t imagine tearing himself away from you—or risking waking you up by rising from the bed. Perhaps it’s alright if he stays the night here, after all, he needs to make sure you hydrate through the night.

#sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday #sunday hsr #honkai star rail #my writing #fics #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #fluff

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phyrestartr · 8 months ago

Text

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.3)

W/C: 3.1k #SFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, mentions of death, yuuji has entered the chat, gojo has entered the chat, idky this got sad tho lol

A/N: This bit made me very sad please suffer thank you!!! Also the main story will be wrapping soon (I think next part will be the last part?) and then after that, it'll probably be drabbles! There might be a 'sequel' that touches on the culling games tho because b r u h they've got some down time during that arc so hfhfhfhfhghghf imagine what I could do--

tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

A strict no-contact order had been placed on Yuuji, and, subsequently, Sukuna. Neither were to come into contact with you while you recovered, and neither were to be alone with you considering the control-slip incident.

Still, the curse had been rampant in the young man’s mind, constantly pacing back and forth just behind his consciousness, waiting patiently as a predator should for Yuuji's guard to go down. Granted, even if Yuuji was caught by surprise, it'd still be near impossible to overtake the peppy twenty year-old. Sukuna didn't have an explanation, but it was what it was.

He would have gladly seized control now, when you'd somehow managed to slip away from your recovery prison and get comfortable in Itadori Yuuji's bed. Sukuna would have slaughtered everyone at the academy for a second to touch you again, to breathe you in.

But the brat finally realized something was off, and woke to find your head tucked under his chin, his arms slung across your waist. Your breath fanned across his collarbone, tickling the sorcerer's touch-starved skin and feeding the fire burning in his cheeks–Sukuna, though, didn’t seem pleased his host was the one touching you. Yuuji counted that as a victory.

Suck it, dickhead.

Hm? A stranger’s voice rippled instead of the king's.

Yuuji jolted, his blood growing cold for a second before recognizing that voice–it came from that tidal wave of memories. But it didn't tick him off the way Sukuna's did. It was…nice.

Uh…you can hear me? Yuuji wondered. He tried to envision his voice as loud and clear as possible to help it reach you.

Your brows twitched in your daze. Yes, I can hear you. There's no need to shout.

Oh. Sorry. Uh, how'd you get in here?

The door.

Oh. Cool. Yuuji shifted a little. I'm not really supposed to, y'know, make contact with you or–

But you're warm. Your nails lightly dragged across his back, leaving trails of tingly pinpricks dancing across his skin. Yuuji swallowed a moan. God, why did the littlest touches feel so nice?

Y-Yeah? My grandpa used to say I ran hot. Like a furnace or somethin’.

I agree. You burn like firewood. And you smell warm. Like cedar and honey. You stretched languidly, and the younger stayed put, not strong enough to pull away from your praise and touch. Your teasing fingers raked through his hair daintily, and this time Yuuji did moan. Just the slightest bit before he snapped his mouth shut and bit his lip.

You leave me wondering how you taste.

“What?” Yuuji squawked. Your eyes lazily opened a crack, seemingly put off by the sudden break in room silence. It gave the sorcerer an opportunity to admire the golden glints of divinity hidden in the hue of your iris.

But he found fear in that moment, too. Yuuji knew what most didn't–the curse sealed inside of him thought you to be his equal. You were the only beast Sukuna would bow before, the only one whose attention he craved and sought in his reign.

You were, in a way, a king yourself.

Do you think I'll eat you, Yuuji?

“I–uh–you–well–” Yuuji fumbled exceptionally, choking on flustered words. “I just--Sukuna ate people, right? So, uh. Maybe you did too?”

You looked him over for a moment. Your gaze traced the cute curve of the younger's nose, the petite fangs worrying at his bottom lip, the caramel swirl of his eyes. He looked so much like Sukuna. It made you wonder.

I've eaten humans, yes, You agreed, nonchalant. Do you want me to eat you?

“Eat me?” Yuuji deadpanned, unsure if he should feel just bothered or hot and bothered. “I, well–”

No. Sukuna’s voice cut like ice through Yuuji’s mind. For a second, it scared him. It reminded Yuuji of what exactly Sukuna was. What he’d do.

So what would you do?

“Hey,” Yuuji started, suddenly calm, serious. “Why’re you on Sukuna’s side? You don’t seem like a bad person.”

You took a deep second to think before sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. Your tails curled weakly around your clothless frame, swallowing up any spot a young man’s curious gaze might wander in the secrecy of night. Maybe you’d been in this situation before.

“‘Good.’ ‘Bad.’ We all have different definitions.” Your voice rattled and scraped out your tired throat, yet you didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. “I do what pleases me: garden, sew, eat. Sometimes, I may cause harm in the process. I care sometimes, and I don’t others. Does it make me evil to choose what I care about?”

Yuuji’s head started to ache. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up with your fancy, archaic way of speaking, but he was sure as hell gonna try.

The younger sat up, too, and ruffled up his hair. “I mean. Don’t you wanna try to, y’know, not hurt people? Not cause harm, ‘n stuff?”

“Is fire wicked? Or does it simply exist?” You posed. “In the control of man, it is sacred. It cooks food, illuminates the dark, cloaks you with warmth. Yet it burns down trees. Swallows homes. Devours crops. Kills.”

You looked at Yuuji, rose-wrapped eyes resentful of something the sorcerer could not know. “Man regards fire as a blessing when controlled, yet it is a curse when it runs free with nature–existence, the black and white of the world, is in the eye of the beholder.”

Yuuji didn’t like how much that made sense to him. Objectively, Sukuna was bad. He killed. He murdered for fun. He ate people–

Yet your words, your pretty way of speaking and philosophies gave Yuuji pause. It didn’t click, despite igniting grim sparks in the cogs hidden far behind his eyes. He already made his mind up about good and evil, yes and no, white and black, and yet–

You poked him in the forehead, between his eyes, and Yuuji blinked.

“It’s merely food for thought, Yuuji.” Why did you know his name again? “Don’t burden yourself with making decisions or anything of the sort. I suppose my answer was long-winded in regards to your question.”

“Yeah, kinda,” he laughed, rubbing his cheek. “But, uh…it helped, I guess.” Yuuji pulled your hand down from poking him. “You don’t think Sukuna’s bad,” he concluded.

“I think he was a force of nature.” Your head tilted. Your eyes softened. “A monster to some, a god to others.”

“‘N to you?”

Your eyes caught the morning light, iris reflecting with waking embers.

“He was everything.”

Gojo thought you were pretty in the same way Getou was pretty; you were handsome with fine features, you radiated with odd power, and you spoke with unmatched poise and purpose it almost made the man’s ego swoon.

But you looked tired as Getou had, too. Skin void of blushing warmth, eyes distant and hazy, dark circles pulling your gaze away from him. He didn't like it. It made him remember that cold hand ripping his heart to pieces.

“Look who’s awake!” Gojo cheered as he sauntered toward you, hands in his pockets and a smile adorning his face. “Hungry? I could getcha some–”

“You were listening, were you not?” You wondered, running your bony fingers through matted fur systematically. Your split nails picked and clawed through tangles and knots thoroughly, as though it’d make a difference in your beat-up appearance.

Gojo tilted his head before settling down in the seat beside your bed. “Hm? Me? Listening? To–”

“Yuuji and I.”

“Ah! You mean the night you snuck out to do some naughty, naughty things with my student?”

You deadpanned fiercely, looking at him the way someone else used to. “Ha. Hm. Surely you jest.”

Gojo waggled his brows as much as he could, hoping they’d peek out over the top of his blindfold. “Hah, you think I don’t know what my sweet, precious Yuuji does behind closed doors? I know everything! I’m–”

“You misunderstand,” you cut him off, looking more and more concerned with each passing second. “You are a teacher? Why? How? This does not seem ethical.”

Gojo died. Rather, his pride did. Which was essentially his lifeforce.

“What are you–okay, I’m just gonna chalk it up to you being cranky after getting woken up, alright? I’ll give you a pass. Just once!” Gojo nodded as a benevolent creature should. “You should thank me.”

“I’d rather not.” You sighed and returned to your grooming. “If you wish to interrogate me, I require food first. Tofu, specifically”

Gojo laughed. “Man, you are one high-maintenance god. Alright, you want normie tofu, or agedashi tofu?”

You blinked and looked at him, curious.

“Agedashi tofu?”

You really liked agedashi tofu. You liked the little sauce it came with, you liked the other random shit Gojo bought to try and win over your compliance–well, honestly, he also just wanted an excuse to shower someone with the food and snacks he liked. It’d been a long time since he’d had the privilege to.

“So,” Gojo said as he popped the marble into the ramune bottle for you and handed it over, “About you and Sukuna.”

“Mhm?” Your eyes glittered in fascination as you took the drink and examined it from all angles, carefully tilting it here and there to watch the blue bubbles rise to the top as the glass ball rolled and spun in its tiny prison.

Gojo almost lost his train of thought watching you, but he reigned it in quickly.

“Seems like you were close.” Were was important. You'd referred to the menace in past tense when speaking with Yuuji–clearly, you didn't realize the curse resided within the young sorcerer. Best to keep it that way.

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment.

“I suppose. Why?”

“I'm just nosy!”

“I know that already. But there exists intelligence behind your annoying behaviour.” Your gaze slid to him, staring through the veil of fabric and straight into his eyes. “You're a monster like he was, aren't you?”

“Hah?! Rude!” Gojo whined, but regained composure just as fast. “Seems your intuition is pretty good, huh?”

“It's simply an understanding of nature.”

“Is that what pulled you to him? His nature?”

“No. I was given to him. As a gift. By a clan of sorcerers.”

“Huh. A gift.”

“Yes. The harvest festival required as much. He was revered as a godly creature. Something to be feared.”

“And so were you,” Gojo guessed, and you frowned and looked away, instead picking through the treats and snacks brought to you.

“The people saw us very differently.”

Sukuna didn't walk through the city below often–not until you decided you liked it down there.

Finding out that you walked through those streets alone sent a trill of something unpleasant up Sukuna's spine; knowing you were alone, vulnerable and under the eyes of so many that so often cursed Sukuna and wished him dead made him…uneasy, maybe. You could handle yourself. Sukuna simply couldn't handle the disrespect.

But things weren’t as he assumed.

You walked through town, and the people revered you as they would Amaterasu incarnate. Most didn't address you, but all saw and accepted your presence with grace and kindness, nodding or flickering small smiles as you passed by with the king trailing behind.

Sukuna could understand; you'd become something astoundingly breathtaking. Lush, full tails dipped and swayed as you walked with the poised elegance of royalty, the feeling only enhanced by the careful, intricate way you presented yourself in your attire. Sukuna knew you felt beautiful. You were beautiful.

“It's (Name!)” A child cried, and Sukuna fought the urge to punt the little shit into the restaurant across the road when the tiny human grabbed at your clothes.

But you smiled. You actually smiled when you patted the girl on the head and said your sweet hellos before ushering her along after her mother. The corners of your eyes crinkled for once, showing that, yes, you'd aged and felt joy and become so perfect because of it. And when you cooed sweet farewells to passing little ones, your fangs flickered against the colour of your lips, just for a second.

Your gilded gaze caught his carmine stare, and you tilted your head.

“Sukuna.” You held your hand out to him, and he took it. He had no choice. He was only human, and you were God. Walking through a city of mortals.

He let you lead on, wandering to the shops where you bought thread and fabric for your stupid little projects with money he didn't even know you had. You could have just taken everything you wanted, especially with the king stood right by your side, but you eased the shopkeeper's nerves with kind words and ample pay.

Sukuna all but picked you up and launched you both back home the second you were done meandering. He had a job to do; he had to fully commit to siring a runt.

Now, Gojo didn't need to know all that, but it didn't stop your mind from wandering to that night; it was the first time he looked at you like that. It was the first time he decided against lording his power over you, instead holding you close and taking things slow. You missed it. You yearned for the night he stopped seeing you as a toy and saw you as you. The night he finally learned your name.

“They viewed me as something divine,” you continued, digging out of the warmth of memories. “Perhaps because I walked alongside someone like him.”

“Well, only gods can walk through a volcano and come out unscathed, no?” Gojo smiled a bit as you looked away, embarrassed.

“That's a poor analogy.”

“Eh?”

“How would one walk through a volcano? None would even think to get close enough to do so.”

“W-Wait–”

“You would be underground, would you not? With limbs melted, oneself ablaze? And one would not walk but wade through lava.”

“It's just a metaphor!” Gojo wailed.

“A poor one.” And you continued to pick through snacks, unbothered that you'd just destroyed the strongest man alive as you munched on cheese-flavoured rice puffs.

Gojo laughed, though. “I can see why he liked you. Supports the theory he's not the one who put you in the coffin.”

“It wasn't him,” you snapped. Your ears flattened against your skull as you shrunk in on yourself. “At least…not directly.”

Oh? Gojo leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he laced his fingers together.

“Then who was it? What happened?”

“I don't fully understand it myself,” you confessed. Your voice was a whisper, cold and lonely like a far North winter.

“Maybe I can help.”

You looked to him and back down again.

“There was a man. A sorcerer. I don't know his name–I never cared to learn it. He was odd.” You tore up little bits of hi-chew wrappers as you spoke. “He asked me if I would sacrifice myself for Sukuna.”

“And?” Gojo prodded.

“I would not,” you said. “Sukuna would never need my sacrifice, he'd never need my aid. He was the strongest.” A light frown tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That creature thought otherwise. He mentioned something about additional wombs, but I don't know what that means.”

Fuck. Gojo nodded politely. “Gotcha, gotcha. What'd this guy look like? You remember?”

“Unremarkable, save for the odd sutures across his forehead.”

“Oh? Interesting. Alright, last question, my cute little kitsune–”

“(Name),” you cut in. “Address me as (Name).”

Gojo sparkled. “Waaah, I think our relationship just leveled up to A-tier! One more level and I can romance–”

“Please do not make me hurt you.”

The white witch whined and deflated against his chair. “Boooring.”

You huffed and flicked your ear. “Ask your question, goblin.”

Gojo took a breath before he spoke.

“Are you with child right now?”

The world changed suddenly. Seal papers coating the walls drowned in bones and flowers as the pungent sweetness of orchids and decay curled around Gojo. Around you, a cage began to rise, jutting out from the earth and encircling you like thousands of rigid arms holding you in an embrace. And your eyes–they shone with abhorrent divinity, outshining even the nine, pristine tails breathing with blackened fire.

But there was screaming. Two voices intertwined. Little and distant, warped and outraged at–at something. Maybe Gojo? Maybe his accusations, his questions?

Just when the sorcerer was about to act, your clasped a hand over your stomach, and you whispered with the thrum of a thousand voices:

“Be still.”

It all moved slowly, then. The phenomenon–the apparent domain expansion–reversed, sinking back into the floors and walls with the soft sound of chittering and cooing taking the place of wicked screeches. You, too, cooed back to the twin voices, placating them with maternal ease.

Your divinity faded with the last shreds of the illusion. Now, your colours faded further, painting you in desaturated tones of exhaustion and worry. Gojo hated that palette. It'd been used too many times on too many he doted on. God was stupid like that, creating such sad, worrisome colours.

The sorcerer took a deep breath in the silence of the room. He didn't know what to say, or how to say it. He was never good at this kind of thing. His other half was much better at this.

But he had to try. The look on your face told him he had to try.

What would he have done?

Gojo’s hand reached out as he leaned forward, and he caught your scarred, bony hand in his own. You didn’t pull away, you didn't fight him, you instead curled your fingers around his and held your breath while your gaze became unseeing, your heart ceased beating just as your breathing had. For a moment, you died.

“I'm sorry,” Gojo whispered. And you nodded. Somehow, he knew it meant, ‘me too.’

It was then, touching you, that he could feel the negative energy thrumming beneath a shell of divinity. Two different un-lives coiled inside of you, filled with bitter hate for man and undying love for their mother. For you. It wasn't unlike the bond shared between Yuuta and Rika, but this was not as simple.

“Your ilk did not approve of Sukuna siring children,” you murmured. Your grip on his hand turned poisonous. “If you try to take them from me–”

“What'll you do?” He asked, knowing they'd never be born.

“--I will turn everything to ash. Set fire to the skies. Just as I have once already.”

“Good.” Gojo smiled. “You'd be a good mother.”

“I hope I one day can be.”

The masked menaced nodded again as he idly soothed his thumb across your knuckles. “Never say never, yenno? We'll figure something out for you. If you can do something to help the school–”

“I can give gifts. Once I have the energy.” You didn't sound like you did. Gojo wasn't sure if you ever would.

“Yeah? Like what?” He asked anyway.

You looked at him, weak and defeated, yet still clinging to life.

“My divine favour.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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okwonyo · 5 months ago

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（标题） GOODLOOKING AND BEYOND.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡⠀you take your time to admire the view.

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) ୨୧ f .. r 700 fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

no view ever witnessed was and will ever be more beautiful that the one in front of your eyes.

you firmly believe it. the niagara waterfalls or the aurora borealis have nothing on the beautiful view before your eyes.

your heart beat faster as your gaze drags from the edge of your boyfriend’s nose, sliding on his bridge, coming back and forth— enough times that you would be able to redraw it from memory if you were asked to.

if you were to tell the truth, you would say that you are able to recognize his side profile even if you lost your sight.

you are not able to count how many times you stared at jake like that. in that exact position you are in: laying in bed, you settled yourself on your side for a more comfortable view, his arm under your head as his back rests on the mattress, his eyes closed.

his chest rises and falls gently as he acts like he is asleep— silently fighting the urge to not blush. his breath is quietly heard, escaping from his nostrils, beautifully wrapped around his nose.

you blink a few times. you wonder how anyone can have that pretty of a side profile. and ponder about how anyone could be so normal about looking like this every day.

you scoot closer to him. just so your mouth brushes against his skin. your hand holds the cheek of his that is not facing you, turning his face to yours.

his nose touches yours, bump into it even. his soft breath lands on your lips as he opens his mouth slightly— waiting, wanting.

you kiss. it’s not necessarily long or passionate. but it’s warm, soft and just good. like the feeling of freshly made bread melting on your tongue. simple and enough to make all your muscles relax. enough to make him smile against your mouth, ruining his fake sleeping act.

you eye flutter open, “i love your nose,” you whisper, for the ninth this week.

jake delicately get out of your grip. he removes his arm under your head to rest his weight on a single elbow.

you have seen the look on his face too many times to not know what is coming next. you can feel the blood rush creeping on his face as well as the knot made of so many words he wants to say at the same time.

a smile forms on his face as well as a pink hue does on his cheek, as well as the knot undoes itself in a soft, “i love you.”

as well as your voice melts into his, a murmured, “i love you too.”

then here comes his iris dilating in a slow motion, like cherry blossoms falling on the spring’s ground. the look of love.

all it takes is a smile from you for him to come hide his nose in the crook if your neck. right where it belongs. right where you can feel the shyness emanating from his body.

even after all those years, his knees get weak at the sight of your smile. he would have fell to the on them if he wasn’t in bed with you right now.

your fingers find his hair without you even realizing. you position yourself on the back and jake follows through, practically laying on top of you.

after a while, you speak up. “i miss you,”

he doesn’t need an explanation to understand what you mean, “i miss you too,” he immediately mumbles back against your skin. “but i love your scent.”

you hum. then immediately argue, “but i want to see your face.”

and he complies. setting himself back in front of you, with a small pout still. this time, you both face each other. not saying anything, just staring at one another without any intention to do anything else.

he is really beautiful. you have to fight yourself to not say it out loud— not necessarily wanting to make him shy again or receive a kiss. you just want to stare at him, he seems to want to do the same.

both of your giggles resonate in the quiet room.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open !

(..◜ᴗ◝..) this was rather short, but this idea have been eating my brain for a while. i hope your week is going well so far, thank you for reading this— luck is on your side 💌

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theurgists · 6 months ago

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⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ IRON MOON ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

aemond targaryen x reader

summary: bitter arguments lead to bitter ends.

warning(s): 18+ smut, lannister!reader, established relationship (although there is quite a bit of tension), angst, fingering (just a smidge), breast play (if you squint), sexual intercourse ?? ( unclothed grinding)

a/n: it's been several months since i've written so enjoy this piece cause I don't know if i can deliver this hard again, i fear. thank you @targaryen-dynasty for beta-reading this for me.

There’s a sharp sting in the socket where Aemond Targaryen’s left eye should be. A pain so brutal, that in his haste to sit upright, his spine cracks in response to the movement — head heavy and pounding with lingering exhaustion.

Tossing his amber furs aside, Aemond blinks rapidly, the dull throb in his lobe pulsing in discomfort, as he adjusts his vision, despite still being disoriented by slumber so deep, he had found himself almost fully rested. Almost.

From what he could see in the sliver of starlight illuminating his bed-chamber, he quickly glanced around the vast space. His usual chair — once tucked under a large, stone table where his books sat piled atop one another — had been moved directly in front of the fireplace, where burning embers lifted in thick, dark ropes of smoke, evidence of his betrayal and the constant reminder of his wrongdoings wafted in the air, blackening his lungs, forever tainting his soot-covered soul. He could see it in the ash threatening to snuff out the flames warming his snowy skin; could feel the bones in his spider-like fingers grow numb with anticipation.

Or was it fear? He could differentiate the two no longer.

Gooseflesh raises upon his arms, although a chill in the air is nowhere to be found. His ears are the first to register — a sigh from his right, muffled as if he were underwater. His head stings once more, and he hisses through his teeth. The torment behind the gaping wound is needle-sharp, like the blade he was maimed with. It was the very reason for his misery, a pang of unease constantly gnawing in the depths of his belly, raising bile in his throat.

His desperation to please had gotten him nowhere but backward, his fingertips lightly ghost over the gaping wound in his skull is a significant reminder of that much.

“Did you find rest?”

Aemond’s hand drops to his exposed side, legs swinging over the bed to hover over the cool stone flooring, head hung low, heart racing erratically at your seemingly missed presence.

“What are you doing here?” Jaw taunt, his fingers slowly crawl over crumpled bedding before grasping it tightly, a harsh swallow following not a second after. A twitch made its way up his spine, starting at his lower back before crawling, grasping at his bones for leverage, lungs releasing an unintended sigh to linger in the air.

Marriage was neither kind to you nor Aemond – unwanted, heavily weighing on shoulders that could only lift so much. He sought to be rid of you — to have you running for the hills of your home of Casterly Rock with your skirts lifted in haste, head hung down in shame, intimidated by his coldness and calculated gaze, one iris burning with the flames of Old Valyria.

He had never wished to take a wife, even less a Lannister whose false promises meant naught to him on the rare occasions he’d find comfort in your arms when desperation clawed at him. Vulnerability didn’t suit him. The One-Eyed Prince came to that conclusion the first night he lay in his separate chambers after clambering out of yours, face beet-red in humiliation that burned brighter than dragonfire.

Touch is what he craved. It gnaws at his insides, filling his veins with longing he could no longer deprive himself of, the urge to let his tongue twist and flick against his teeth and let words sail in the wetness of his mouth.

Seeking out whores for comfort what was he turned to; peeling off his clothing and leaving every inch of his skin as bare as the day he was born, curling into himself as if he were still a babe attached to the teat. Pleasure was never in the foreground of his mind, even when Sylvi’s shaky fingers threaded through his silver tresses, whispering words of reassurance in his ears.

In a way, it was freeing – having someone touch him that way, dote on him as if he were fragile, thin lips parting to vent to her in a jumble of words. The simple utterance of his platitudes would never reach beyond the cracking stone of the brothel he frequented, and would not spread like the rot eating away at him.

He made sure of it. When leaving Sylvi he always did.

Aemond had been ridiculed, whispered about amongst the Keep in conversation between ladies of the court, fathers making an example out of him to set their rebellious sons straight. An observer he was, extending his ears to anything that might be of importance to weeding out traitors of the crown, of his brother who was less than deserving to sit the Iron Throne, a seat that he would’ve been granted had he been the first son.

The Gods continue to strike their fury down on him.

“I’ve come to reassure my mind that you’re still in good health, my prince. Since you like to linger in the shadows.”

Your presence looms over his head like a cloud, carrying the finest rainfalls to drop onto him the second your footsteps echo in his ears, the blood in his veins hum, fingers tingling with a certain numbness that fills his beating heart with a sense of dread.

“Welcoming yourself into my chambers gives you enough answers?”

Even with the expanse of his back on display for your eyes, he did not have to crane his neck to know that you bore a smirk as you spoke once more.

“You may not realize, but when you’re in a state of unconsciousness you tell all.” With a clammy palm, you grasp the iron handle of a flagon, full to the brim with untouched wine that had been placed there earlier in the day by a maid, no doubt. “I seem to find you more pleasant that way.”

Nostrils flaring, Aemond inhaled the scent of parchment paper and ink that he had left out to dry as he took in your words. Although there was no ill intention behind the desperate urge to fill the short silence, he considered it so. “You’ve come to ridicule me?”

“Is that what you think?” Your tone is accusatory, and rightfully so. You’ve been naught but kind to him, even with the tension between the both of you thickening every day the sun sank below the horizon.

Lifting a cup, you pour enough wine to teeter over the edge, wasting no time before closing your pillowy lips around the rim. “‘Tis merely an observation,” you add.

“Mhm.”

“You think poorly of me.”

“No.”

“Then why do you speak to me as if I were poison in the flesh? We are married.”

Your fingers tighten around the neck of your chalice, shaking with such vigor the liquid sloshes, falling next to your bare feet before splattering on your toes.

Aemond turns his neck slowly, lips pressed together, torso adjusting to his newfound angle so he can look at you in the flicker of surrounding paraffin wax candles, violet eye narrowing. “You seem to be adjusting fine despite our… challenges with one another.”

Licking the flesh of your bottom lip, spit-soaked and tasting of Dornish wine, a laugh escapes your throat, dry and devoid of humor. “And whose fault might that be, hm?”

Aemond lightly gasps as you ease your body in between his nude thighs, free hand taking hold of his jaw. The pads of your fingers sink into the skin of his cheeks as you raise his head so he can look you in the eyes, which gleamed with mischief.

“I give you the privacy you so desperately seek. Now, I must ask something.”

Fire burns in his belly, tightening the knot that wishes to unravel itself as you gaze at him over the shining steel of your cup, sipping its contents eagerly. You were by no means subtle with your emotions.

Aemond quickly learned that the minute he laid his head on your lap, skin-to-skin on his furs after consummating your marriage without prying eyes. You had treated him with such care then, caressing his skin, weaving his hair through your fingers. It felt as if care had sprouted in his lungs, constricting his throat, and leaving him speechless.

Contentment had presented itself as a lion, a woman who was the first to make his heart soar and his head swim.

He was less than deserving. It was decided.

By title and law, you were his wife, a lifelong partner with whom he was to share all his worries and complications — no matter how severe. Yet, he could not find it within himself to tell you what he speaks to the woman he seeks out.

He swallows thickly.

Biting the inside of your cheek offers some sort of solace as you kneel in front of him, knees stinging, aching, and wine spilling once more. The sleeve of your sun-yellow nightgown is wet, permeating the air with a stench so sweet and bitter that it causes your nose hairs to burn as your lungs expand for air when you set it down.

His cheeks turn cold with the removal of your hand, yet he can not find the strength to unclench his jaw, chest heaving in expectance.

“I have done naught but be good to you as best I could. Must you make this difficult?”

Your hands search for his, bringing them to your mouth before laying a kiss upon them – a gesture that causes his cock to twitch briefly, the brush of your lips awakening the beast of desire within him.

“My duty to you is not forgotten, wife.”

Aemond states this as if it were practiced, monotonous and cold despite his hands still cradled in yours. You squeeze, averting your gaze from the sharpness of his features to his silky hair, a long stream of silver glistering in the night.

“Do not speak of duty to me, husband.” You spit, teeth clenching. “You are bound to me, promised.”

There it is again. That dull throb behind the sapphire in his socket causes him such nausea that he closes his sole eye. “I know of my vows to you.”

He says your name with a sigh, almost like it pains him even to utter it.

Your stomach clenches, although your face remains stoic. You had tried with him.

Had kissed his wet lips and shared his breaths, had held him in a tender embrace on the night of your wedding, supple fingers ghosting over collarbones, bellies full of wine.

You should have known.

It was too good to be true. He could not overlook his internal turmoil, nor quench his thirst for misery. His self-pitying is too strong, you think.

In truth, you had foolishly thought you both had come to an understanding – some sort of reassurance to one another in terms of trying.

He had given you his word.

“I do not think you do. I have stood in your corner far longer than I should have, only for you to toss it back in my face. Is this what you make of our union? A jest, an act of sheer folly?” You release your grip, clapping your hands together as his eye burns through the thin material covering your figure.

Is that what you think?

He would have been a fool to let the thought cross his mind. Your time apart has proven that to him; admitting his love for you to be solid, unwavering even amid a war he had senselessly acted in – no – continues to.

Aemond’s lip twitches, a sneer forming moments later as he stands abruptly. You jump back in sudden surprise, bottom landing on the floor, hands splayed out to cushion yourself, yet it makes your shoulders ache with pain.

“You do not know me.”

His hushed spoken words are true, almost like he had to fight something in his scrambled mind to get them out. Blinking rapidly, you crane your neck upward to look at his tall frame, towering, yet broken, spine bending slightly. “I have tried to be near you– “

“Then allow yourself to be! The Gods only know how many nights I grow restless.” You seethe, rising, hands pressing down the front of your gown to dust off dirty palms. Your nose hairs burn.

Fire. Warmth. It fills your senses as quickly as his disrespect.

Exhaling loudly, you await with gooseflesh littering the expanse of your arms, reaching underneath the hem of your dress, pebbling sensitive nipples.

Through the darkness, the small gleam of unshed tears presses behind your eyes, threatening to leak on warm cheeks and crumble the exterior you had worked so hard as a Lannister to create.

Have you disgusted him so much?

“I- I cannot be as close as I desire. No matter how hard you want me to. I yearn to touch you,” He moves forward, the muscles in his arms flexing as he takes your head in his hands, lips but a hair's breadth away from yours.

It is cool, seeping through your pores, lulling you into a state of ease you cannot recall feeling elsewhere. This is the first time he’s laid his hands upon the smoothness of your skin in weeks, lacking in the roughness he had shown you previously.

There’s a need that coils itself in the swell of your belly, spreading to the rest of your body as your blood rushes to your ears, heart pounding erratically. Leaning into his touch, you swallow harshly, jaw clenching.

There was a war. Both in your body and out there beyond the walls of the Keep, yet you could only focus on one.

“Then why do you not?”

“I am not someone you wish to have.” His thumbs circle under your cheekbones, featherlight. “A weakness in me stalls my efforts at happiness with you.” Nor did he want to disappoint.

That aspect would always etch itself in the crevices of his soul. The desire to please, to be acknowledged as the man he’s tried tirelessly to mold himself into had become him. What he once was does not matter.

It can’t.

“You cannot decide that for me, Aemond. I refuse to live out the rest of my days with you dragging bitterness and longing by its tongue. Do you not see how devoted I am to you despite the blood that has coated your hands.” You angle your face to press a kiss to what skin on his right hand your lips can reach. “I want only what you can offer me, no matter how horrible.”

Aemond’s self-restraint snaps as easily as his temper when he finds himself devouring your mouth, a man starved. Need courses through him, sends a shiver up his spine so violently that you can’t help but gasp in the heat of his mouth, as he drags you toward the bed.

When you pull away, your nose skims against his scar, and his hands slide down your arms, finding purchase on the dips of your waist, gripping the fabric stuck to your skin. “Let me have you.”

It’s a demand that sends his tongue delving into the dip below your jaw, above the pulse point in your neck as he suckles, nipping an array of red blooms down to your chest.

The One-Eyed Prince had never been presented with such an easy task as this, and never was he so eager to fulfill one’s desire whilst he licked stripes between what expanse of the valley of your breasts he could reach, a sense of pride surging through him as you moan lightly, threading your hands through his hair, gripping it at the root.

“Never have I laid my lips upon flesh so soft,” he murmurs, as you sit above him.

You could believe his words tonight, under the light of a flame — something he seems to be made of as he peels your nightgown off swiftly, letting it sit at your waist. Your bare cunt throbs as his cock lightly brushes over your folds, slick with arousal and the urge to be filled with him completely. When you lift yourself from his face, you drag a finger down his jaw, watching the way his chest rises in anticipation before your hand curls around his throat, squeezing his windpipe.

His staggered groan is hearty, straight from his throat as he throws his head back, eye screwed shut, and legs stiff beneath you with the added gyration of your hips. Being at your mercy excites him; stimulates him beyond belief when you start panting and Gods, he will never tire of hearing it.

“Such a good boy”

The sight of him is one you’d ingrained in the foreground of your mind until the second your lungs could no longer take in breath. You truly had never seen anyone more hauntingly beautiful than Aemond.

The tip of his cock leaks at your praise, lubricating the rest of him, mixing with your fluids, slick with need, ready for you all the same.

You’re trying to find relief as his whimpers send jolts of shivers running up your spine, raising the hairs on the back of your neck, hooded eyes admiring him pinned beneath you with interest. The muscle of his tongue glides over teeth, shiny and saturated, calloused fingers indenting your skin from his grasp. Pain has never been so pleasant to you as it is in this moment, sweet friction creating a sensation so invigorating that you clench around nothing, gasping, begging.

“Please…” Is all you manage to pant before you climax, a pathetic mewl sounding from your throat as you get off by slicking yourself over his hardness.

He hasn’t even sheathed himself within you, yet you’ve come undone – an action that elicits a rumbling groan, physically flipping you over, head gently hitting one of the expansive pillows. Rough fabric irritates the pads of fingers, running over embroidery before they’re firmly clutched, scrunching under your hold.

Your god hovers between your legs, forcing them apart, his nails now digging into the fat of your thighs, gathering your shared exhilaration before two digits curl into you, immediately trapped between your walls when you clench at the intrusion.

“My wife.” He whispers, cool breath fanning your face.

And it isn’t until he lays his violet eye upon you – although your lips satiate his hunger – the flames of your touch singing his flesh, you realize that he did not love you.

#aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond

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justwritedreams · 1 year ago

Text

Sin | Jongin

Idol!Jongin x Reader

Word count: 2.344

Genre: fluff, slight angst, smut.

Author: maari

Warnings: MDNI!! THIS IS A +18 STORY Explict words and filthy studio sex, oral (fem receiving), sex without condom (don't do this at home), heartbroken Sehun 😞.

Note: WELL i'm proud of this one and I won't even going to deny it lol My stories with Kai are usually short so I don't fall in love with him BYE

Request: I have something we’re he’s at the studio with his s/o and they make out and end up having sex and one of the boys walks in on the (who are you pick had a crush on y/n) and gets mad because he told Kai he liked her and they argue but y/n tells x that she’s only interested in Kai

⫷ Exo Masterlist

Y/N was trying to control her smile as her body moved on its own to the beat that sounded through the studio's speakers.

"What do you think?" Jongin asked, after the preview he played for her ended.

She looked at him, smiling proudly.

“It’s different from what you’ve done before, but it’s your vibe.”

Jongin sighed, relieved. He closed the file on the computer and turned completely to face her.

“I wanted to try new things for this album.”

“You did it, I'm sure everyone will love it as much as I love it.” she winked at him, seeing him smirk.

"Thanks for being here." he got up from the chair and sat next to her on the couch, his shoulder lightly touching hers. "Means a lot."

Y/N tried to hide her huge smile while feeling the butterflies in her stomach, that's why, unable to think of what to say, she just put her hair behind her ear, looking away a little shyly.

“Well, it’s not like I can deny you anything.” she confessed, wetting her lips with her own tongue and looking back at him.

Jongin kept his eyes fixed on her, raising an eyebrow.

"Anything?" he asked, interested and she narrowed her eyes without understanding what was going on in his head. “So if I tell you that it wasn’t for nothing that I asked you to come here.”

Jongin then brought his body even closer, cornering Y/N between the couch and his strong chest. All she did was take a deep breath, unable to take her eyes off Jongin's dark iris.

He looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world and hadn't even truly touched her.

That was enough to make her tremble all over.

“I would tell you that I already imagined it.” she replied quietly, without any strength.

Not when the heat of his body covered hers so deliciously.

Y/N saw Jongin smile widely before projecting his torso forward and bringing his face to hers so that their lips met in a slow sensual dance, just like the rhythm of the preview he had played earlier.

One of his hands went to her cheek while Y/N's trembling hands went to his chest, even though it was covered by the sweater he was wearing, she felt his heart beating quickly in her palm.

The kiss that was enough to take all of Y/N's breath away was broken by Jongin as he pressed their foreheads together. When she felt his penetrating gaze on her, she opened her eyes to find complicity there. Something that made her legs feel wobbly, as always did when she was with him.

They hadn’t yet described what type of relationship they had, they were together in secret. Nobody knew they were making out in empty hallways or in each other's houses.

It was a mutual agreement, after all, what no one knew, no one ruined, but that didn't mean that the feeling wouldn't grow because Y/N was sure that with each touch Jongin made, she fell in love even faster and deeper.

She knew that trying to stop this from happening was impossible since Jongin was addictive. It was like that the first day they met and it was still like that every time they kissed.

He began another kiss, this time faster, as their tongues met again and their hands were no longer so shy, they roamed each other's bodies.

Y/N imagined it would just be another make out session they would have, her fire seemed to complete Jongin's and they couldn't keep their hands off each other, but it wasn't like that tonight.

Involved by the preview played earlier, the atmosphere in the studio became much more sensual after the kisses, which no longer seemed to be enough.

Her neck was already marked and wet from his devoted kisses on her skin when he started to lift her blouse, making her body and also her pussy combust.

Mainly because he was between her legs when he started to take off the piece of clothing, which she promptly helped him do, considering that she wouldn't be crazy enough to stop his caresses.

His big, warm hands found her breasts and she sighed loudly, feeling her belly squirm inwardly as her panties were soaked.

Jongin had that power over her, his kisses were enough to make her go out of orbit. And he knew it, so much so that his nimble fingers promptly took off the bra she was wearing and his mouth found her breasts, giving the same attention to the hot flesh that his lips and tongue gave to Y/N's mouth.

For her, controlling the moans was an impossible task that she knew she had no control over, that's why she let the studio be filled with her sounds of pure pleasure as her hips tried to rub against Jongin's.

But he was too far away and his intentions were different at that moment, Y/N felt her whole body shiver when he lightly bit the skin of her navel and his fingers found the button of her pants.

She helped him, a little clumsily, to take off her pants and he knelt on the floor, staring at the white panties she was wearing with pure thirst, his fixed eyes made her pussy tremble, yearning for what was to come.

Her panties suffered the same fate as her clothes and her eyes rolled and closed when his finger found her throbbing clit.

Her hips rolled against his hand of their own accord and he approved, starting to move at a pace so slow that it bordered on torture.

Y/N's mouth was already dry and open, her moans were more constant and when she opened her eyes again she saw Jongin bringing his face closer to her pussy.

She trembled from head to toe before feeling his lips against her hot, wet flesh, he placed a soft kiss before extending his tongue out and closing his eyes to eat her like a starved caveman.

Y/N's hand went to his hair, squeezing the strands between her fingers as she felt his wet tongue mix against her own juice that dripped from her pussy, she moaned his name over and over as it was the only thing that her brain could remember at that moment.

His tongue was precise, he knew exactly what to do and how to make her reach orgasm, he alternated between her clitoris and her hot entrance, and he murmured in approval as he felt her inner muscles contract every time he fucked her with the tongue.

But Y/N closed her legs against his face when Jongin kept his tongue on her clit while his fingers worked quickly at her entrance, going back and forth in such a delicious movement that it didn't take long for her to cum for the first time that night.

She tried to take deep breaths as she spasmed and he drank all the juice she had released.

When their hungry eyes met, Jongin's clothes were quickly removed so that Y/N's slender hands could find his hard cock, she stroked it slowly and managed to elicit a few low moans from him. She wanted to make him as ready and thirsty as she was, and she was prepared to do it with her mouth before he stopped her.

"I need you now." He pleaded and she smiled mischievously.

Jongin sat on the couch and Y/N positioned herself on his lap, he directed his dick to her entrance and the moment their eyes met again, he made her sit hard.

Y/N moaned loudly and closed her eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders as Jongin squeezed her waist with a force that would probably leave marks.

She felt his dick pulsating inside her and without being able to control her desire, she began to move.

He moved at the same pace, feeling her hot inside and tight enough for him to bite his own lip.

He helped her keep the rhythm but it didn't seem enough, it had to be faster, so he helped her move up and down on his dick and the sounds began to echo around the studio in perfect synchronization as her nails dug into his skin.

Moans, the sound of their skin slapping together, everything was so erotic and so right that it made Y/N feel dizzy.

“You take my cock so well.”

"Fuck."

Throwing her head back, she hugged him around the neck and he held her more tighter around the waist, getting up from the sofa so he could lean her against the wall. Y/N hugged his waist with her legs and their position made him enter deeper into her pussy, this time not only moans came out but also screams of pleasure.

Jongin thrust hard and deep, he went fast and Y/N felt her new orgasm form in her womb as her skin shivered and her toes trembled with excitement.

"Look at me. I want to face you while you cum on my cock.“ He placed a hand on her chin and made her look him in the eyes, without having the strength to look away.

He then took his hand off her face and brought it to her clitoris, where he made circular movements, making her scream even more and feel her whole body shake as the orgasm came strong.

“Babe…” she whispered, weak and breathless.

Seeing her so intoxicated as her cum dripped out, Jongin continued his thrusts until his body shook and his own orgasm came with force.

He moaned softly and buried his face in the back of her neck as they tried to catch their lost breath.

“If I had known this was the kind of thing you wanted to do with me in the studio, I would have come sooner.” she said, laughing and caressing the back of Jongin's head.

He laughed and placed a kiss on her skin before helping her get off his lap, Y/N felt her legs weak and leaned on his shoulder.

“I should have brought you sooner.” He responded and led her back to the couch.

Y/N lay down, tired and saw Jongin take her panties and helped her put them on, making her smile slightly at the gesture.

He put on his own underwear and Y/N was wearing her bra when suddenly the door was opened without delicacy.

“So that’s how it’s going to be.”

Y/N widened her eyes and covered her body with her arms when Sehun entered the studio furious and red.

Jongin remained standing, looking at his friend seriously.

“This is how you repay me after I shared a secret with you.” Sehun said, angry as he stood in front of Jongin.

"It wasn’t on purpose." he explained, the tone of his voice not so calm.

Sehun laughed, bitterly.

“Of course not, but it didn’t stop you from fucking Y/N right here.” he pointed towards the studio as she felt her face burn. “Right after I told you I liked her.”

Y/N felt her jaw drop and looked at the youngest without knowing what to think.

Did Sehun like her? Since when?

“And what did you want me to do, huh? Stop seeing her?” Jongin questioned, irritated. “You also know that I’m in love with her.”

She felt the corners of her mouth lift into a surprised smile.

She always imagined that but she never heard Jongin say it out loud, so hearing those words was a very nice surprise, knowing that he reciprocated her feelings.

“But I didn’t sleep with her right after.” Sehun accused, hurt and Y/N felt her heart sink.

One of the reasons why she wanted to admit what she felt for Jongin right away was precisely so that everyone would know what was going on between them, without any more secrets.

But she never imagined that Sehun also liked her and that he would be in the studio at the exact moment when she and Jongin couldn't control the need to be together in the most carnal and intimate way possible.

“Sehun.” she called him, getting up from the couch.

And he looked at her, completely hurt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “If I had known, I would have explained to you earlier that I have been interested in Jongin for a long time.” He nodded silently. “It’s nobody’s fault.”

An unbearable silence fell in the studio, until Sehun sighed.

“You’re right, but that doesn’t change the fact that my friend betrayed me.”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out and Sehun walked away in long strides, leaving both of them with nothing to say behind.

She passed her hand over her face and looked at Jongin, he shook his head as he looked at the door.

“I think I better leave.” she announced quietly and turned to pick up her clothes.

However, he stopped her, holding her arm.

"Come to my home."

She took a deep breath before looking at him.

“Jongin, but Sehun-”

“I won’t walk away from you because of him.” he spoke firmly. "I can't anymore."

She smiled slightly.

"What do you mean?"

He smiled, moving closer to tuck her hair behind her ear and caress her cheek.

“That if being in love with you is a sin, then I will sin again.”

She bit her lower lip.

“No more sex in the studio?”

He laughed, hugging her around the waist and touching their foreheads.

“I can't promise that.” He kissed the tip of her nose, making her close her eyes. “Not after the sounds you made in here.” he kissed her cheek, purposely in the corner of her mouth. “The scenes are engraved in my head and will hardly ever fade out.”

“Then I guess we will sin together.”

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withleeknow · 8 months ago

Text

somewhere only we know.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want) genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting??) fluff, half a second of angst if you squint; this is pretty self-indulgent and also i just randomly wanted to write it this way. kinda similar to this but not really word count: 0.6k note: again, imagine whoever you want! mimo is on the cover just for illustrative purposes and also he's my guy so what did you expect from me lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

the waterfront on the tail end of a sunset walk. your hand tightly intertwined with his. sharing strawberry tanghulu and tasting the fruity sweetness on each other's lips. neighborhood children rushing by in a hurry to make it home for dinner. 7:12pm, his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm as dark blue begins its descent for the evening. the wind and her gentle kisses upon your hair. you stop to take a picture of the sunset but he stops to take a picture of you. a rose-colored blush when he tells you you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. love, love, love. him, the stars shining in his eyes before they have to come out and paint the sky. mismatched footsteps and twin smiles.

the middle of your apartment's entryway, not even making it into the living room. your arms around his neck, his hands on your waist and in your hair. a long trip coming to a stop, a big suitcase abandoned by the door. the scent of his familiar cologne that you've yearned to touch for weeks now. 1:19am, wide awake. somewhere in the world, iris by goo goo dolls is playing on repeat. i missed you's and i love you's and fresh tears. feeling like you could hold him like this for hours until the darkness outside falls away. no more facetiming with seas of distance between you. chests pressed tightly together, no space, all love. sweet nothings whispered right next to your ear. home is where the heart is, and your heart is home.

the park five minutes away from his parents' house. your head on his chest, both of you on a large picnic blanket laid out on green, green grass. his heartbeat under your palm, your mind somewhere up there among the clouds. sleepy and lax under the influence of the sun. 3:29pm, an iced matcha latte and a slice of lemon cheesecake sound absolutely divine right about now. there's an urge to voice that thought, but you know neither of you can be bothered to move. his lips pressed against your forehead, then a tender "i could stay like this forever."

the convenience store just around the corner. a spontaneous snack run in the middle of the night because you were craving sweets. empty streets but your hearts are full. the cashier's ringtone is a song that you both hate. 12:22am, no worries in your head. tomorrow is still the weekend. banana milks and chocolate ice cream. he falls for you all over again when you aren't looking, and tells you "nothing," with a coy smile when you ask why he's staring. time works differently at night, almost like it doesn't seem to pass at all. there's no logical explanation to why you feel like you're on top of the world at midnight in sweatpants; maybe it's just being with him, maybe it's just being in love.

your favorite bar on a rainy evening. the argument was stupid, but it was heated enough for you to storm out. only red on your mind; forgotten weather forecasts and forgotten umbrellas. stubborn and angry and alone. the fight was your fault anyway. 8:18pm, a bottle of soju for company. ignoring his calls and texts when your phone lights up with his name. heavy raindrops loud enough to hear from inside your shelter, heavier heart. the way his face fell when you said what you didn't mean. why did you say that? forty five minutes and the bottle is almost empty. far too tipsy to pay attention to the chime of the bell by the door, but sober enough to recognize his presence when he sits down next to you. his rain-dampened hair and your fragile, wounded pride. the apologies are quiet, uttered into the space between the two of you, only for his ears. forgiveness in the form of gentle fingers holding your own. "it's getting cold," he says. "let's go home."

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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xoxochb · 3 months ago

Text

— rainbows, sunshine and everything nice!

warnings: none just headcannons pairing: percy jackson x daughter of iris

୨୧ okay, okay, okay, let’s start this thing with simple dating headcannons because I don’t wanna yap with all that pre relationship shit 😣

୨୧ iris kids are great painters, or anything art related really. you find yourself most days basking in the suns warmth with a new canvas in your lap

୨୧ and percy doesn’t care much for painting but when he found out you loved painting his opinion entirely changed

୨୧ when he finds himself with free time he’ll join you in your artsy activities

୨୧ sometimes you offer him a canvas so he can paint alongside you but after once when you did this and he dropped all your paint you restricted him from painting furthermore

୨୧ if you didn’t though, he would’ve done so himself anyways, which is why he’s happy to just watch you paint— the sun illuminating your irises perfectly (get it?), your hair falling in front of your face (that he takes upon himself to tuck behind your ears), your content resting face, this is much much better than painting

୨୧ and not just painting you’re good at but also baking and singing!!

୨୧ to start off, baking

୨୧ we all know percy loves to bake so he was extremely happy to find out you loved it as much as you did

୨୧ he was not happy, however, to find you didn’t dye everything blue, so he took it upon himself to introduce you to the wonders of blue food dyed sweets

୨୧ and also!! when you’re not at camp you go back to ny with him and help sally bake her famous blue cookies (when he sees how well you get along with her he makes a promise to himself to for sure marry you one day not for just his sake but for his mothers also. she definitely wouldn’t accept anything less)

୨୧ and anyways: singing

୨୧ percy LOVES literally absolutely adores when you sing, especially when he’s on the verge of sleep and your hands carding softly through his hair and your calm, sweet-like-honey voice singing, it literally lulls him right to sleep

୨୧ this warms my heart up so much, actually. he’s such an absolute sucker for your singing, it’s almost kind of pathetic

୨୧ and omg hear me out: iris kids with synesthesia

୨୧ I should’ve mentioned this before with the baking section but, like, imagine tasting fucking colors?? hello???

୨୧ percy literally had a field day with this, he asks you about every single color under the sun LMAO

୨୧ n e ways i just wanted to touch upon that real quick

୨୧ percy 100% nicknamed you something sun related

୨୧ like “sunbeam” or “sunny” or something cutesy like that (I need him don’t play with me rn)

୨୧ ALSO iris kids speaking horse???

୨୧ and we know percy can too so just imagine the convos you have

୨୧ like, omg omg listen to this, at first percy didn’t know you could and he’s talking to blackjack in front of you and the horse is all like “dude I know you like her” or something along those lines and percy is trying to shut him up for solely his sake

୨୧ but blackjack confirms he likes you and when a pink hue adorns your cheeks percy realizes you heard their whole conversation

୨୧ then you know one thing, another, confess, lovey dovey, you know the drill

୨୧ and that’s how percy and his lovely daughter of iris came to be <3

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #riordanverse #riordanverse x reader #percy jakson

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rodolfoparras · 1 year ago

Note

Gaz is just so pretty he gives the worst breeding kink ever like I NEED this man to have my kids

Cw: baby trapping, 18+

Okay but thinking about meeting Gaz in his recruit years and forming a mentor mentee relationship with him, but it’s clear that there’s something more going on between the two of you going by the longing gaze the lasting touches and the words spoken in a far less professional tone.

But because of the slight age gap along with the difference in ranks you decide to reject his feelings, sticking to only spending the nights with him before leaving in the morning,

Gaz never complained he’d take anything you were willing to give him, even if it meant a couple hours of tumbling around in the sheets.

That is until he finds out that you are planning to send him away, overhearing the whole ordeal while hiding behind the door to your office ,things were starting to get risky your relationship had started to be seen as something more than professional and your solution to the problem was to send him away to some other squad.

But Gaz isn’t having any of it, instead he decides to cook up a plan, solidifying it once you announce your decision to him.

He chooses not to take his birth control while spending night and day skewed onto your cock, taking load upon load til cum is trickling out his sopping cunt, all under the disguise that it’s for keeps sake, something he’ll miss while away.

But just as the day comes where he’s about to get sent away, he shows up to your office with a positive pregnancy test in hand and a faux look of worry painted on his face

It doesn’t take much for you to call off your previous plans, easily bringing him into your embrace while whispering words of reassurance.

For the first time ever he could see something other than desire swirling in your iris and he can’t help the smile on his face as his hand subconsciously caresses his stomach.

He’d done so much to earn your love and he’d finally gotten it.

#alec answers #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #gaz is so sexy when he’s scheming #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x male reader #male reader #x male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #sub male character #bottom male character #trans male character

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httpwintersoldier · 1 year ago

Text

『 think I need someone older. || buggy x reader 』

pairing: buggy x f!reader words: there's many words in here alright! like, many summary: who would've thought that the best thing you'd get out of your relationship would be the guy after it. angst; smut; fluff. ᴄᴡ: ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ; ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ

"Come on, let's go!"

Buggy stared with an intense look, from the corner of the room, as this drunk looking guy grabbed your arm and dragged you across the bar.

"Stop! Let me go! I haven't finished my shift!"

The man's grip tightened on you and he pulled you close, your noses almost touching from the proximity.

"I told you I don't want you working! Much less in a fucking bar! What, you like all these men looking at you!?"

Your boyfriend spat those words at your through gritted teeth, and you swore his iris shrunk in size giving his eyes more space to express their hatred at disgust towards you.

"Not my circus, not my monkeys. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Not my circus..." Buggy repeated the quote in his head like a mantra as he sipped his beer, reminding himself that the extraneous relationship was none of his business.

And usually he would not mind, other people's predicaments were none of his concern and he didn't care to make them his concern, but you were different.

The Captain had only seen you working at the bar a couple of times and he had found you... pathetic. Smiling at the customers, apologising, actually doing your best and being polite. That showed weakness. You were weak. Weak, and innocent, and pathetic, and someone who would never survive in this world. And for that he wanted you.

Buggy refused to put two and two together, he refused to accept that for once there was someone he wanted to protect instead of hurt - because that would mean that he would have a weakness: you.

It was only when you showed him kindness and respect instead of fear and disgust that the Captain began somewhat welcoming the idea of you.

It had been a terrible day - the crew was hungover and some punks took the chance to ransack the ship - and Buggy just needed a drink. He sat alone on the corner and some pesky, useless waitress set the wrong drink in front of him.

"I should have you killed for your incompetence!" He had dramatically yelled at you.

Instead of pleas or more yelling, his threat was met with a question.

"Why?"

It instantly calmed him down, he had never been questioned on his threats... Sure they had been laughed at, they had been feared... But never questioned.

"Does this look like my order!?" Buggy said, a lot calmer but still showing annoyance as he didn't want you to think you somehow had the power to take away his rage.

"Can't I just replace it, Sir? I can make it on the house if you'd like!"

Buggy left after that, without another word. It effectively made you think that he now hated you and your service, but the fact was his heart beat faster. His heart beat in a way that had only beat before when he was fighting or torturing someone, and the Captain had to sit alone and wonder what it meant - and how he could shoo it away. No one had ever been able to calm him down, let alone make him feel bad for the tone he had used - until you waltzed in the Captains' life with your pretty smile and tight fabrics.

He sat on that same corner that day watching that man mistreat you in front of everyone. The look on your face was one Buggy did not recognize - he was half certain you were incapable of portraying negative emotions, but now it seemed like all of them were flowing through you.

"I-I wanted to get money t-to help you buy that ship you wanted! For your birthday, baby!" You lied, trying to stop your body from shaking.

You wanted some financial independence from that man, you wanted to be able to buy stuff for yourself without having to go by your partner first, or without having to get his approval because "it was his money after all", but you figured a lie would be best.

After that, the man roughly let go of your arm, but your faces remained at the same distance.

"We will discuss your schedules at home." He said in a threatening, low tone and promptly left the bar.

You looked around - the place was never calm, except when there was gossip and drama to pay attention to. Your eyes scanned the room and you laughed nervously.

"It's alright fellas! Apologies for disturbing your night I will get you all a round on the house!"

Cheers echoed the room and it went back to the rowdy environment you knew as you tried your best to excuse yourself to the back where you could breathe.

You left through the door and slid down the brick wall of the alleyway where the staff took their smoke breaks, thanking the gods that it was vacant. Your thighs hit the cold stone floor but you didn't care - at least you could breathe. It felt like there was a boulder on your chest that prevented you the air to leave your lungs and chemicals in your eyes that prevented you from crying up until that point.

The sound heavy boots smacking against the stone echoed in the air, getting closer and closer to you. You assumed it was your manager, and you didn't want to get fired but you couldn't get back inside just yet.

"Sorry, Sir... I will go back in in just a minute." You said, voice muffled from your head being buried in your arms.

Buggy wasn't sure what to say, - he wasn't good at comforting people, not at all - so he just stood there, looking down at you, as if the space around him would freeze to give him enough time to think of the appropriate reply.

When you obtained no reply, you got worried - was you boss that mad that he wouldn't even dignify you with a response?...

You slowly peeled your head from your arms and looked up at the person in front of you, to find the somber clown that sat on the corner of the bar every other day. You immediately stood up and violently wiped the tears from your cheeks and the dirt from your skirt as you tried your best to look presentable.

Buggy's looks towards you were always a mix of very intense emotions that you couldn't decipher, but now they were a lot softer, almost as if he felt sad for you - and honestly you much preferred angst to pity.

The Captain softly grabbed your arm, stopping it from rubbing your skin so violently and potentially damaging something so beautiful.

"I-I'm sorry I will go back in now I didn't mean to disturb the service please let me offer you-"

Your frantic, apologetic rant was cut short by Buggy's voice.

"Why are you with him?"

Your eyes, that previously wandered everywhere but his face, found his gaze.

"Him? Him who? My... boyfriend?"

Buggy just nodded, searching your face for all of the emotions he could gather - they were all negative, and those he was good at.

"I love him." You said dryly, not one ounce of emotion laced in your words.

"You don't. You fear him. People who are feared are not loved, I should know..." The Captain said the last part under a deep inhale.

You were left silent. You were angry and in disbelief that this man that didn't even know you had the gall to make such serious accusations about you and your relationship.

But he was right. And now you knew how painfully obvious it was.

At some point you did love him - your boyfriend would bring you flowers every other week, he would write often, expressing his love, when he needed to sail for work, he would cook intricate dinners and fill the bedroom with roses and gifts in every special date you shared... But once he knew he had you, the man changed completely - a tale as old as time. And your boyfriend knew you held onto the hopes and memories of the past and used it against you, pretending to be the caring man he once was from time to time to keep you around.

"So? Why are you with him?" The Captain asked once more upon being faced with your silence, slowly stepping closer.

You opened your mouth to say something, hoping your brain could scramble together an excuse for being with that man that didn't sound as pathetic as just "nostalgia".

Before you could speak, Buggy placed his index finger on your chin and tilted your head up so you could look into his beautiful, big green eyes. They were hypnotizing, really.

"Exactly." He whispered "There is no reason. So let me take you away."

You widened your eyes.

"Take me away!? Where would you even take me?..."

Buggy chuckled, approaching his face to yours.

"Anywhere, everywhere..." He whispered.

Your face grew hot and the atmosphere around you became tense, this time a completely different feeling filling the air.

"But... why? I thought you disliked me. You know, because of that day... I feel like you've been giving me the stink eye from that corner you sit on ever since."

Buggy let out a short laugh as he took his time to examine every pretty little detail of your face up close.

"Dislike you? I'm crazy about you. The way your fetching eyes twinkle when you smile, the way you sing when you wipe down the bar, the way your dresses fit you..."

Buggy allowed the hand that wasn't on your chin to trail up your body, still remaining far from any places he shouldn't (but wanted to) touch, as his eyes stole a look at your slightly exposed chest.

You were speechless. You hadn't heard someone talk about you with such admiration and love in a long time, but alas, the last time you believed it it lead you to the nightmare you lived in currently.

As you were reminded of such a fact, your eyes filled with tears once more and you stepped back, away from his touch.

"He used to tell me those things too... I've heard all of it. I'm sorry I-I can't trust this act a-and I need to go back to work."

Buggy stayed in his place, not wanting to scare you more than you already were or ruin any potential chance he might've had by being too insistant. In a last effort, he called your name, just as your hand met the cold metal of the door's handle, and you stopped.

"Y/N. You're dating a manchild, he doesn't know what to do with a good woman like you because he's a boy." Upon seeing he had piqued your interest, the Captain stepped closer and leaned to whisper in your ear from behind "Let me show you how a man is supposed to treat a woman such as yourself."

Your heart was thumping in a way you had never felt before, and althought you opened the door and ran inside to stop Buggy from seeing your blush, he knew.

He chuckled, left the alleyway and walked to his ship, letting the proposal sit on your mind.

Unbeknownst to your boyfriend (and to you), that night was crucial. The events of that night would heavily determine if you'd take the Captain up on his offer or not, even if you didn't know it at the time.

Once your shift ended you bid goodbye to the old man that owned the bar and made your way home, hands in the pockets of your heavy coat and smoke coming out of your mouth with every breath from the cold night air.

"Hey!" You greeted once you closed the door of your home.

You removed your coat and put on the best fake smile you could muster as you ealked over to your boyfriend whom sat on the dinner table drinking some sort of ale that he had brought from work.

"Good news honey!" The man said, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"What is it?" You asked with hope in your voice that, for once, the good news would benefit you as well.

"The man who handles the money down at the bar you work for is an old pal of mine, I talked to him and he can send the money directly to our house so I can keep it safe! So no need to wait for it on pay day anymore, I can just put it directly towards my ship like we wanted!"

Your boyfriend kept talking, but you had stopped listening halfway through. Your heart was beating way too fast for you to focus, and the ringing in your ears became too loud for you to hear.

He decided what you did, what you bought, what you wore, where you went... The smallest, tiniest bit of freedom you had was taken away. Everything was taken away.

There was no escape. Anywhere you went, anything you did... no escape.

Except... the Captain. He had offered you an escape. The clown had practically opened the door to freedom for you.

Or maybe not, maybe you'd just be walking into a different type of captivity, but something in your head and in your heart told you Captain Buggy was different. Maybe it was the sweet words or the twinkle in his eyes that were shining with something other than the possessiveness you had always been used to, something like care, or admiration even.

You placed your hands in your boyfriend's chest, slowly peeling yourself away from the hold he had on you as the fake smile faded into visible panic and anxiety. You had to make a decision, and you had to make it fast.

Before your head could process anything and before your mouth could protest his decision, your body turned to the door and your legs started running.

You didn't even know what Captain Buggy's ship looked like, you just ran to the docks in hopes that it would somehow work out for you.

As expected, the man you once loved ran after you, screaming, cursing and threatening all the way to the docks.

You had a considerable distance from him, and, thankfully, Buggy's flags with red-nosed skull made it easy for you to find the ship - although it wasn't needed.

When you looked behind you to make sure you kept said distance from your (ex-)boyfriend, you bumped into someone. The person didn't let you fall, however - he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you as steady as possible.

"Get your fucking hands off her, clown!" Your boyfriend said in a tone that made it seem like he was frothing at the mouth - he might as well have been.

When you looked up to identify your saviour, you smiled in relief to find Buggy, tears welling in your eyes from the previous anxiety and panic that finally dawned on you. His piercing green eyes stared at your boyfriend menacingly, and had you not known how much the man wanted you, you too would have been scared of the expression painted on his face.

"Watch your tone, boy, and then leave." The Captain warned.

"I won't watch-"

Buggy didn't allow your partner to finish the sentence, he detached the hand that didn't hold onto you and wrapped it around the other man's neck, throwing him against a wall with enough strenght to knock him out.

As the hand came back to its place, Buggy looked down at you adoringly.

"I take it you accept my proposal, princess?"

You tried to bite back the smile, but to no avail.

"I do accept it. But!" Buggy leaned down ever so slightly, showing the most interest in whatever condition you had decided to set "If you ever scream at me I will leave you."

Buggy's smile stretched wide, and he pressed kisses all over your face.

"Oh my dear princess, my beautiful, beautiful treasure... If I ever so much as annoy you feel free to shoot me dead."

You grinned and slapped his chest.

"Don't be dramatic!" You said and giggled, unable to contain how giddy he made you, how he made you feel a way you hadn't ever felt, not even at the peak of your ex-boyfriend's supposed love.

You yelped and wrapped your arms around Buggy's neck as he picked you up bridal style to take you to his ship.

Some wolf whistles were heard as he walked through the ship carrying you, forcing you to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment, but they were quickly shut up by the stern, disapproving look on the Captain's face.

You lifted your head and opened your eyes when he placed you down on the creaky wooden floor. You looked around to find a somewhat messy and dark room. There was a single, not-so-spacious bed that was unmade against the wall in front of you and under the porthole of the room, an old, tall dresser and a big desk with papers (that you assumed were maps) and random jewelry scattered across it were to your left and to your right was an worn out couch with questionable stains. A pair of boots as well as various items of clothing were by the corner of the room.

Buggy hissed and placed his hands on his hips as he looked around the mess in his bedroom.

"Yeah... I didn't acutally expect any company..." The Captain said, obvious embarrassment in his voice.

You giggled and picked up some of the clothes forgotten in the corner of the room.

"That's okay, I'm a little messy sometimes!" You tried your best to make him feel more comfortable about the state of his room as you folded his clothes.

"No, no, no! What are you doing? Don't trouble yourself!" Buggy panicked, holding your hands to stop you from doing any housework.

"Just trying to help you out a little! You know, as a thank you..." Your voice got a little shaky as the memory of the wave of emotions that had overcome you just minutes ago hit once more.

"A thank you for what? My own crew gives me a harder time than that little... sample of a man. He's a weak man, it was no trouble." The Captain assured, basically pleading you to lay down and rest.

You couldn't help but smile, a victorious smile, more than anything. Your now ex-boyfriend was prideful in his strenght and (supposed) fighting skill, no one really fought him, and when they did he'd unfortunately come out on top most times, but to hear Buggy speak of him in such a way and describe him as if he were but an annoying fly waiting to be swatted... it felt like victory. Imagining him pathetically limping back home and wallowing in his own self pity was nothing short of a dream come true.

"A thank you for rescuing me, Captain."

Buggy thought he was feeling sick, from the way his heart beat and his face heat up. He couldn't speak or think straight, for a second he thought it was a stroke or something of the sort.

The man stood in the same place, watching you fold his clothes neatly and fluff the pillows of the couch before moving to (try to) help you. He did his best to organize all the maps in the desk as he pushed the jewelry into a drawer with a detached foot.

By the time he had properly rolled up the maps and put them in their proper place, you had already finished the remaining parts of the room.

"You did well! That looks good!" You said, walking up behind him.

Buggy felt a strange wave of pride hit him. Like no other accomplishment he had previously achieved mattered, because this was the only one the Captain had complimented you on. The man did his best to wipe the stupid smile off of his face but there was no hiding how obsessed he was with you and everything you did.

Your tired yawn snapped him out of his trance, and his big green eyes looked at you in worry.

"Are you tired? You must be tired... Just..." Buggy walked to over to the dresser and took a big, warm blanket from it, handing it to you "Take the bed, you should get some sleep."

You held the thick blanket in your arms as you saw the man try his best to fluff the pillows and make the bed comfortable for you. You didn't know how to react to this much care and attention, you felt undeserving of it.

"Y/N? Shit, are you okay? Did I go overboard? Did I do too much!?" You didn't realize how fast you were breathing until Buggy brought it to your attention, and before long there were two panicked people in the room not knowing what to do for two completely different reasons.

The clown had never liked someone as much as he liked you, and you had never had anyone like you as much as he did. It was comical, really, although at the time it didn't feel like it, it was just the purest image of two fools falling in love.

"I-I don't want you to be uncomfortable because of me, that is all- I can take the floor." You said, trying to stabilize your voice as much as possible.

"Oh princess, I've been thrown around by people my whole life, I've gotten pieces of me stuck in boxes and I've been used as a punching bag, sleeping in the couch instead of the bed is no trouble at all... I didn't bring you to my ship just to have you sleep on the floor, that is an absolute no." The Captain said with a small smile, carefully cupping your cheek.

He could tell from your face that you weren't satisfied with the solution, even if the man guaranteed you he'd be comfortable.

"What if... we share the bed? If you don't mind..." You suggested, unable to look him in the eye.

Buggy's body tensed and heat up at the thought of the both of you pressed up against each other in the small bed, and he tried his very best to not seem like a creepy pervert, but the thoughts in his head seemed to have other plans.

"Uh sure... Yeah, that works." He blurted out, like an awkward teenager trying to seem cool and uninterested after a long silence.

You loosened your corset and set it neatly next to your shoes, as you removed the hairband that tried its best to keep your hair in place during your shifts at the bar.

Buggy turned his back to you, feeling like he was somehow invading your privacy even though you hadn't asked him to look away.

The man removed his jacket, boots and belt as well, trying to get more comfortable. Usually both you and him would sleep in less clothing, but for the sake of decency and modesty (which Buggy had apparently adhered to exclusively for you) you decided against it.

When you turned around, Buggy was removing his bandana, and your eyes widened as his blue hair extended down to his lower back.

"Woah..."

Buggy turned around to face you, confused, as you softly grabbed a strand of his hair.

Once he saw your eyes shining as you looked at his long blue locks he smiled - a mix of confidence about his hair, and shyness about the way you looked at him.

"You like it? I kinda forget people don't really know how long my hair is."

"It's beautiful..." Your voice was soft as you ran your hand along his (surprisingly) soft and shiny hair, almost as if you were afraid to scare him away.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you. Not even close. Nothing has even been or will ever be as beautiful as you are." The words were caught in Buggy's throat, more than anything, he was afraid that his feelings and constant thoughts of your alluringness would scare your off, so those words were replaced by the suggestion of going to sleep.

Buggy let you lay first, closer to the wall so you wouldn't fall off the bed if you happened to move as you slept. The Captain then laid next to you, very happy about the lack of space the bed offered.

You both had to lay on your side, your back pressed against his chest. You'd be lying if you said you'd disliked the proximity - his body was warm and you felt protected as his toned chest heaved up and down against you and his muscly arm draped mindlessly over your waist.

You didn't want to move, but your leg became numb after some time. You shifted in your place slightly to make it more comfortable, only to feel a strong hand grip your hips in place almost instantly.

"Careful." Buggy's low and raspy voice whispered, almost as if warning you about some danger.

And there was a danger indeed. Having your body so close to his was torture enough, but if you so much as shifted in place you'd be rubbing yourself against him - and the clown wasn't sure how far this newfound restraint could go.

"Sorry..." You apologised, thinking your movements had woken him up.

"Don't be..." He mumbled and buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your perfume.

Weeks went by from that day, and the two of you got to know each other intimately, but Buggy was hard to read. There were times where it seemed you were the light of his day and the reason for him to breathe, but there were others where your image seemed to be the Captain's worst nightmare.

It all came to a climax on a day where Buggy was having a particular hard time coming face to face with his feelings.

"Buggy!? What is wrong with you!?"

"Stop fucking following me around!"

You didn't understand the sudden shift in behaviour, but quite honestly neither did he.

The Captain was obviously not used to having feelings, nevermind dealing with them. He didn't know what to do or how to behave, all he knew was that he wanted you in an obsessive, animalistic way. Everything Buggy did, every step he took... You were on his mind. You were a constant. He couldn't stop thinking of your smile, of your voice, of your smell, of your body...

It was driving him insane, and most of all, it was driving him insane the fact that he didn't know what to do, so he just did what he knew how to do best: get angry and lash out.

Buggy was a master of self-sabotage, and as he yelled at you he knew very well that he was making a mistake, almost as if the real Captain was inside, screaming, banging and begging his body to stop betraying him, but he couldn't.

"Don't raise your voice at me!" You yelled with tears in your eyes.

"Or what!?" Buggy challenged, his voice raspy from yelling, as he finally turned around to face you.

His face showed anger and disgust, but his eyes conveyed a completely different message, one of sorrow and regret.

You looked at the desk next to the man, where his gun was. You grabbed it and, pulling the safety trigger, placed the barrel between his eyes.

"If I ever so much as annoy you, feel free to shoot me dead." You said, repeating Buggy's speech the night he had brought you to the ship "You're annoying me. You're making me angry, actually, which is arguably worse."

"Then shoot me."

If there was something you'd learned in your previous relationship, was to read emotions beyond words. You could see it in Buggy's eyes, it was obvious... He didn't mean what he was saying, he didn't mean to act this way. It didn't hurt any less to know he didn't mean it, but you at least wanted to know...

"Why?"

"Shoot me." Buggy repeated, his voice shaking every so slightly as your question had caused him to face everything he had been avoiding.

"Why." You asked once more, adamantly this time.

Buggy threw his hands up in frustration and groaned, taking a violent step closer to you.

"Because you're all I think about! Day and night, I can't stop thinking about you. There isn't a single thing that occupies my mind other than you. You are all that I've ever needed and all that I've ever wanted and you change me I-I'm different around you and I'm vulnerable and I'm scared!" The Captain was screaming like a madman getting tortured, fighting the side that wanted to shut you out and walk away and the side that wanted him to fall to his knees, beg for mercy and confess his love for you. He knew what he felt, even though he desperately tried to ignore it, but saying it out loud made it... real.

The gun made a loud sound that echoed in the room when you let it fall by your feet, so you could cup both his cheeks.

"Buggy... Why would you be scared? Have I done something to you that made you feel like you can't trust me?"

The man slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. He dipped his head, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him tightly - you knew, after the short time you had spent together, that that was how he seeked some sort of comfort, Buggy turned into a little kid sometimes, that needed support and reassurance, and that was his way of asking for it.

"I don't want to leave you, Buggy, you've been good to me. But you can't treat me like this..."

"I'm... I'm sorry." His voice was shaky, a couple sobs here and there, and muffled from his head being buried in your shoulder "I trusted one person, once and he... betrayed me. And I didn't like him as much as I like you, not even close. I'm scared... Please don't leave me, I'm sorry for what I said, I'm sorry for yelling at you, I'm-"

You shut him up by lifting his head and giving him a kiss. It was simple and no longer than five seconds, but you'd both swear the world was spinning and fireworks were going off.

Buggy's big, green, teary eyes were staring at you when you pulled away. Once he processed what happened, the Captain grabbed your face and brought it close for another kiss. And then another, and another, and another - until he was out of breath from kissing and you were out of breath from giggling.

"I'm forgiven?" The man asked, still holding your face.

"You are forgiven, Buggy. I'd never, ever hurt you. And if I do, you can shoot me dead." You said, mimicking his speech.

He laughed and kissed you once more, a slower, deeper kiss.

"You're crazy, you know that?" Buggy asked, running his hand through your hair.

"We can be crazy together..." You replied, your eyes looking between his eyes and lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"That sounds like a plan I can get behind..." His voice trailed into a whisper as his head leaned to the side, the space between their lips slowly closing.

What started out as another innocent kiss gradually developed into a heated mess of tongues and saliva. Surprisingly, Buggy was very vocal, and there was no telling if it was the thigh between your legs or his needy whimpers that turned you on more, but you were sure feeling a different type of heat spread through your body.

You two pulled away from the kiss. His makeup was messy, some of it smeared on your face, his lips were red and plump from the biting and his hungry eyes searched your face.

"Please... can I fuck you?" His needy, whimpery and hushed voice nearly made your knees falter.

It was pathetic how he could ask you anything in that tone and you'd fall to your knees and you'd comply.

"Do it. Please do it Buggy, fuck me."

His hands trailed down to grip your ass with force, bringing your crotch to press against his. You felt his very hard cock press against you as he laughed in a raspy voice.

"Careful."

Those words were familiar... When you two slept together the first night... He wasn't angry you'd woken him up! He was warning you because he was horny.

You playfully traced his jawline with your nail.

"Do you worst." You whispered in his ear, teasing him.

Buggy pushed you to lay down on the bed. One of his knees pushed your legs open as his hand found your clothed pussy under your skirt. The Captain's lips paid attention to your neck as you slowly pulled his shirt up and over his head to claw at his back.

You were used to being the one doing all the work, so the amount of attention he gave you felt overwhelming - a very good type of overwhelming.

"Buggy- that feels good... So good..." You moaned.

Buggy chuckled as he kissed the red spots of skin on your neck he had kissed and sucked. His lips approached your ear and he softly bit your earlobe.

"I'm going to show you how a real man fucks."

The Captain's index finger hooked on the front of your panties and slowly brought them down. Two of his fingers ran along your exposed folds and his eyes widened. He brought them up to his face and separated them, showing you how they glistened with your juices.

"Already?" He paused and chuckled "I'm going to have fun."

Buggy placed his hands on your hips and flipped you two around, sitting you on his waist.

"Take it all off." The man said, gesturing to your clothes "And then sit on my face."

You had began to unbutton your blouse, but you stopped and blushed.

"I- I don't want to hurt you, maybe we could-"

You yelped as one of his hands came into contact with your ass harshly.

"I don't care if you suffocate me. Sit. On. My. Face."

You bit your lip and nodded, obeying his orders.

Buggy groaned and cursed under his breath as your pieces of clothing slowly came off one by one, and as your pussy hovered over his face, he swore he could've cum from the sight alone.

When you didn't fully lay your body weight on him, Buggy wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled your cunt down onto his face.

"Shit!" You shrieked and gripped his hair in your hands as your hips started moving along to the movements of his tongue.

"So this is what it's supposed to feel like-" You tought, too intoxicated in pleasure to blurt out anything that wasn't a moan.

Buggy's groans sent a different (yet very good) feeling through your body, and it only left you craving for more. You wanted him to keep going, but you wanted more, you needed more - as much as he could give you.

"More- please- I need more Buggy- I need you to fuck me." You begged between whimpers and sighs.

Buggy took his sweet time finishing his business, too pussy drunk to give it up immediately as you asked. Once he managed to peel himself away from between your legs, one of his strong arms wrapped around you and flipped you both.

His lips were quick to attatch to yours, and you could taste yourself in the Captain's tongue.

One of your hands cupped his face as the other worked on the zipper of his pants. Once you were able to slide your hand inside, you weren't surprised to find he was a fan of going commando.

Buggy pulled away and whined when you gripped his hard cock and swiped your thumb along the slit. His eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure and he was breathing hard.

"Do you want me to suck your cock, baby?" You asked, your voice dripping in fake innocence which caused him to chuckle.

Buggy kissed you softly.

"I'd love to princess, but I won't last. And I really want to fuck you."

"Then fuck me, Captain."

In one swift and quick move, Buggy placed the tip of his cock in your entrance and pushed inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his shaft.

His movements were smooth and proficient - it was almost as if his cock was made for you.

Your fingernails dug into Buggy's biceps, making him whine a little louder as his hips snapped against yours and his lips left small bites and open-mouth kisses wherever they could reach.

The Captain tried to be gentle with his touch, but he was so desperate for your body... it was nearly impossible. His fingers squeezed your sides, your ass and your thighs - he was in love with every curve of your body.

"You feel good... So good..." You admitted, breathlessly.

"Do I? Say my name."

"Buggy-" You moaned.

"Louder! I want them all to hear you."

"Buggy!" You yell-whimpered, as his cock hit a particular spot inside of you.

"That's right princess..." The clown bent over to bite your neck "This is what real cock feels like, from someone who knows how to fuck."

His whimpers and moans were sent straight to your pussy, who seemed to pulsate harder whenever his mouth hung open and the sinful sounds left past his lips.

Buggy seemed to read your mind: as you felt a nice feeling bubble up inside of you, one of his fingers sneaked between your bodies and rubbed your clit - a firm yet soft touch.

"I'm gonna need you to cum for me pretty, 'cause I can't last much longer with you squeezing me like that." Buggy confessed, looking down at his cock disappearing inside of you.

"Almost... I'm almost..." You breathlessly told him.

Buggy mantained his movements, working his hips and fingers until your back arched and your toes curled. The Captain had seen many places, many views and many people, but nothing came close to the beauty of your face when you climaxed, yelling his name.

The clown's mouth hung open, his brows furrowed and he moaned as he pulled out and came on your stomach, the hot cum splattering in different places.

"Guess I gotta clean up..." You said with a giggle.

Buggy looked up at you, with the mischiveous grin you'd learned to love and bent down. His tongue swiped across your abdomen, collecting every last drop of cum. He then pressed his lips against yours, dumping his cum into your mouth.

"There," The Captain said, stroking your red cheek "all cleaned up."

You could only giggle and press another kiss to his lips, as you shifted your positions so you could drape your leg over him and lay your head on his chest.

The two of you closed your eyes, his hand playing with your hair as you listened to his heartbeat.

"If you ever raise your voice at me again I will actually shoot you."

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