#i’m sorry lip from shameless

[thegetdownrebooter]

Just finished the iron claw….

[mother-of-houseplants-2]

i don’t wish i was catholic but i wish i knew more about catholicism/christianity for the sole purpose of being slightly more insane about lapsed-catholic gallaghers

[metranart]

hi! it’s me

i wanted to ask you how would the jjk guys react to you getting their lips tatted on you..?(specifically gojo)

like you got them with lipstick and they kiss a paper then the tattoo artist makes it a stencil in red and you put it right under your boob..?

(don’t do this if your uncomfy with it! also take your time your probably busy)

xoxo,em! take care

Hi sweets, sorry for the long wait, I've been awfully busy but here it is, I made it specially smutty to compensate lol hope you like it :) btw... I love your requests ;)

How would the JJK guys react to you getting their lips tattooed on you 💋

Ft. Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Choso, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna.

SATORU GOJO

Five missed calls and four unseen texts. Gojo sighs, scratching the back of his neck, he hated it when you left him on read. What could you be doing that was so damn important to ignore him.

The sound he had been waiting for since the day started makes his ears ring with excitement and without wasting a second, he opens the text message with your name on it.

Gojo Satoru's eyes widen, and his black glasses slide down the bridge of his nose almost comically thanks to his jaw dropping a little, all at the sight of the picture attached to a cute and adorable message that says:

"Do you like it?"

Gojo growls under his breath, subtly pulling with a shaky finger at the collar of his shirt, suddenly it's too hot there, his cheeks turn an accusatory red and his breathing has grown labored. Even his palms are sweating, for fuck's sake! What's wrong with him?! It's just the shape of his lips on the delicious curve of your under-boob. Shit! He's about to bust a cap inside his pants.

"Satoru-" Nanami's stoic voice breaks his trance and looking around almost as if had forgotten he was in the middle of a briefing, gets up and without any further explanation than: "Emergency!" Leaves the school, leaving behind and unattended, all his duties and mental sanity.

"Did you see the message on his phone, Geto?" a puff of smoke lazily comes out of Shoko’s curious mouth and Geto shrugs. "I saw that it was from (Y/N)." The black-haired snickers and everyone let out a unison, heavy sigh.

Gojo arrives in less time than is humanly possible at your apartment and without warning, not even a ‘hey, babe’, or a: ‘I just teleported myself into your room, hope you don’t mind’. You are dragged by your tall and strong boyfriend, special grade sorcerer and stripped of your top.

"S-Satoru, baby?"

You try to figure out what has him so bristled and with the delicacy of a saint but the curiosity of a child, he yanks your bra up, your delicious breast spills from underneath and his tattooed lips greet him.

"Shit!" is the first word you hear him say and it's almost a painful pant. "Those are my lips, aren't they? This is why you asked me to kiss that paper using the lipstick-...." he sounds accusatory but also incredibly excited.

You nod and let out a sigh that you didn't know were holding. "Phew! When you didn’t answer my text, I thought you didn't like it-"

"Not like it..." he sounds almost offended, and your bra is discarded when he pushes you on your back in the bed. "Not like it?! I love it! I want to eat you whole, (Y/N), I'm only holding back because I need to ask something first."

Being pinned down by his weight and his gentle hands on either side of your jaw, Gojo steals the little space and whispers his question against your ear. "Are you still sensitive from the tattoo, or can I give you a new one with the original source?" 

He kisses your earlobe playfully, and you can’t help but giggle dumbly, as you can't help your voice from shaking with excitement. "I’m not made of sugar-"

You can't even finish the sentence when his lips begin the endless and shameless work of awakening every nerve ending in your skin, the desperation palpable in the white-haired sorcerer as every piece of clothing is torn from your body and his and discarded on the floor as impure.

Purple mockeries of your tattoo in the form of hickeys adorn every patch of your sensitive neck like a new necklace, small bites from the small curve of your shoulder to the sinful curve of your waist, nipples swollen and perked from the greedy skating of his tongue on them. Gojo is not being rough, but he is not being gentle either, he is brutal in his advance but methodical and careful that your moans do not change tone.

"I'm going to tattoo myself on you from the inside out," his warn is muffled against your breast as his mouth devours the plump peak of flesh. Paying special attention to pressing his lips against your tattoo over and over and over again, as if certifying its authenticity and quality. The silhouette was exact, the perfect shape of his greedy lips. It was an almost erotic sight for him.

"Huh?"

"Sure,” he chuckled low before keep going, “white ink specially made for you. You'll see, I’m an awesome artist," having you panting, sweating and squirming isn’t enough for him. Oh no! he needs more, Satoru Gojo claims for something more permanent than a mere tattoo. "...My tattoos last nine months inside, and eighteen years outside, they talk and call you mommy, I’m that talented, sweets" tangled between his muscular limbs, your new resting place, he does whatever the fuck he wants with you. 

You feel the massive shape of his warm cock against your thigh, he’s been pumping himself no end, not letting you touch him not letting you aid him for fear of wasting his first load, that tasty, thick load he's been preparing especially for you. The mere graze of your fingers on him will be his end, he knows it, so he won’t ask nor accept your help, even when he longs to wrap your fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut. Or better yet, wrap your perfect mouth around his cock and suck him off– NO! he now’s not the time for him to be negligent. 

Once loaded, abandons his quest for relief and rests his warm palm on your belly massaging it as if molding it to fit something of his, while the other keeps playing with your cunt, enjoying the way you suck his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. 

“I never thought someone would be able to awaken my paternal instinct-... did my clan hire you, sweets?” he scoffed, playfully. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy moans and whimpers but the way your muscles are tensing and spasming around his digits. The desperate rocking of your hips against his palm, as a firm beg for relief.

“It's just a tattoo....”

“Na ah!” His hand continues playing with your tummy, your navel, the curve of your waist almost obsessively while his tongue makes out with the curve of your neck. “This was your way of telling me that you want me forever..." long finger prod at your gummy walls, searching for that hidden blessed spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

"Let me show you how gifted I am, my sweet girl..." 

He finds it in matter of seconds, and you lose all kind of restriction and complaint and Gojo can’t help but smirk against your neck as you tighten and quiver around his digits. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his thumb pressed over your clit, flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles a deep purple hickey on the skin. Long, thick fingers guiding you through madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, oversensitive body to handle.

"Y-Yes, Satoru, shown me, fill me, mark me-… do whatever the fuck you want-"

You convulse in the spare seconds of glorious pleasure before cumming with a strangled shriek, and Gojo’s groan muffles against your skin when can finally sink in one roll of his hips, feeding you that fat cock he’s been pumping to the edge just for this exact moment, buries deep inside you, kissing your cervix in that one thrust of raw meat. With an animalistic grunt, spills his soul inside your womb, pouring every last drop of cum he's been cooking in those heavy balls until he empties himself, flooding your inside with his gifted seed. A rush of juices gushes from your trembling cunt onto your connected lower halves, and you feel and hear him pant like a dog next to your ear, as both come down from the high. 

"Am I your favorite tattoo artist or what?"

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

NANAMI KENTO

He's stoic and serious, almost unmoving in his unflappable staring as you lift your shirt so he can see your new tattoo. His silent disposition is starting to make you more than a little nervous, since you know that Nanami Kento isn't exactly a crazy animal, but rather, a calm and quiet being who hides a wild side that he only shares with those closest to him. Making you wonder if you fall into that category or not, as his silence as he inspects the tattoo of his lips under your boob is virtually killing you with anxiety.

"Those are your lips, my love." You explain again, even though you've already done it three times, and you receive the same ‘mphm’ sound he made the first three times. 

"Remember? -… remember when I ask you to kiss a paper?"

"I do."

"Well, I gave that to the tattoo artist, and he made it a stencil in red and then I ask him to put it right under my boob...?"

"I see."

Those calm eyes, analyze from every possible angle the tattoo of his lips on your skin, it had never been so difficult for you to read your boyfriend. "Do you like it, do you hate it? Tell me anything, Kento."

Silence and more close observation.

You close your eyes, squeezing your eyelids shut as you take that deep breath of air, you need so much, and you are about to demand an answer when you feel it...

Your eyelids suddenly open looking down and there you find him: Your stoic, boyfriend, the sensible and calm man who is always in control, kneeling in front of you while pressing his lips against your tattoo, the round softness of your boob loses its shape momentarily as the blond pushes his face more firmly against the plump skin. The most unexpected kiss that you have ever shared and for some reason, the most erotic, too.

"K-Ken?"

"Did it hurt?" he asks suddenly from his kneeling position and the threat of you stuttering makes you just shake your head. Nanami steals another kiss against the softness of your breast like he can’t have enough of the sensation. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

You nod, mesmerized by the sudden attention this blond showers you with, his hands caressing your bare back from top to bottom, slow and gentle with the tips of his fingers, it's delicious and it melts away the anxiety you may have been feeling, now, malleable in his hands. You let his face sink further into the curve of the tattoo of his lips and you moan his name as if you want to taste it rolling down your tongue.

"Nanami."

"... Do you still have the lipstick?"

"Huh?" That request brings you out of your reverie a little, and you look at him with some confusion, to which he smiles, that smile that makes you weak in the knees. "Y-Yes, it's in my purse."

"Lend it to me, darling."

With his palm splayed wide open he waits for you to hand over the lipstick. Digging for the cosmetic, he waits patiently until it's resting in his open hand and before you can air your doubts, he stands up, lifting you into his arms to take you with him, those muscular limbs feel like the safest place in the world and you nuzzle your nose into his neck to breathe in his scent combined with his cologne, and it’s intoxicating, so much so that you almost miss his next question.

“I’d like to suggest a few other places where my lips would look just as amazing on your body.”

“Kento!” you startle, it’s adorable to him and closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours, tasting, nibbing and licking as he carries you to his room. “You take suggestions don’t you, sweetie?” 

He chuckles at the flush growing wild on your cheeks, and you feel the softness of the mattress on your back as he sets you down with the care of a saint, before beginning to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Your body shivers in anticipation and his lips curve up into the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen him make, his large hand reaching out one elegant finger towards you and beckoning you with it. 

You’re on your knees in front of him in seconds, his knuckles running down the length of your jaw in a silky caress that has you purring like a kitten, leaning into his touch. That smile only stretches further, as your eyes flutter shut and you feel the greedy grip on his lips, hunting for another kiss. 

Unfortunately, it ends too soon, and your mouth holds that pouty shape that demands another sweet kiss, but instead of his fleshy lips, you feel the creamy slick of lipstick painting your lips.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” Nanami is delighted with how docile you are to him as he finishes painting your lips red, and it’s the sound of his pants zipper coming down that catapults your eyes open, “what would you think of me tattooing your lips right here?”

His finger points along his defined obliques and your mouth waters, this man was sincerely praised by the gods themselves, every muscle in his abdomen defined, those deep lines going down to his crotch giving that ‘v’ shape to his torso, that sinful path of golden hair that disappears under his trousers. It's too much for you.

"I think I need to see what it looks like first and then I can give you an informed answer, Kento."

His broad chest rises and falls violently, sweat runs down his forehead and his cheeks are an explosion of color. This is your masterpiece. Nanami Kento’s fat cock fits with effort in your mouth, but you certainly do your best to get it to touch the back of your throat with every thrust, you can feel him getting close, his thighs tremble under your hands, his forearm covers his eyes, his cheeks are about to explode… he’s too close, and your tongue curling around the tip doesn’t help him resist, you suck him off for over ten minutes and you’re proud of that pleasurable ache in your jaw when he comes shamelessly hard at the back of your throat and your name rips through his esophagus as it echoes through the walls of his apartment. Eventually, his hand stops keeping your head pressed against his pelvis, and with a wet pop, his still semi-erect cock hangs in front of your face, lubed in your saliva.

“You’re right, I think it would look nice.”

You tell him, admiring the lipstick residue that adorns the shape of his cock and balls, a crimson kiss near the base, another at the shiny, cum-dripping tip, another resting on the roundness of his coarse balls, and you love the whole image. You want a fucking mural in your living room with this image.

“Hell no,” the blonde says breathlessly, barely trying to recover from your masterful blowjob, “…no needle is going to touch me down there,” he threatens playfully but serious enough, “if you like the way it looks, you’re going to have to paint it yourself every time.”

A giggle escapes your mouth, red lipstick smeared on your lips as you grin evilly at him. 

“You have yourself a deal, baby."

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

CHOSO KAMO

Choso can't control where the blood goes since, he met you, his cursed technique is out of control. That damn tattoo of his lips on the curve of your under-boob is driving him crazy, he thinks of it and the blood goes down to his crotch. He thinks of you and the blood makes a tent in his pants.

It's a mess that he's had to control with shameful continuous masturbation sessions. Jerking himself off, over and over, with your name as a mantra and the image of his lips tattooed on your breast as his banner.

"Shit, just go away." 

He murmurs with a tight voice, while his fist milks his fat cock in fast and violent motions, his flesh swollen painfully for more than an hour, he doesn't want you to come home from work and find him touching himself, he doesn't want you to find out that he lost control of his cursed technique. He had to lower himself to watching porn, something he had never done before, but it was of no use. So, he put on cream and although it had relieved him on other occasions, this time wasn't working its charm. Fuck! Pleaaaase-... maybe he needs more cream to slide better? No, no matter how much cream he spreads on it never compares even a little to your tight, little pussy. 

And it is the desperation, that he is running out of time that drives him to this miserable act. He takes, that one photo he treasures so much, out of the frame and places it between his fingers, his excitement growing as he looks at it, it is working. He beats his piece of swollen flesh more eagerly, grunting and growling like a dying animal, Fuck! he's close...his eyes close in concentration and his hand increases speed and pressure as his mouth hangs open… almost there, he can feel his balls tensing and tightening, so close, just a few more pumps, a couple more strokes, a little more pressure, almost there… his guts tighten and his brain enraptures in the moment forgetting to mind his surroundings, to enjoy the divine sensation that grows and grows and grows and FUCK!-

Choso Kamo cums, hard and heavy, rope after rope of creamy cum shoots out of the head of his cock like a mockery of how blood usually does when he uses his cursed technique, the pressurized jet of creamy juice spills out and doesn't finish pouring for about a minute straight. Once his balls are an empty, trembling sack, Choso can breathe again, his sweaty and naked torso rises and falls with violence that calms down the more air he sucks, the sweat begins to dry on his skin and his cheeks feel less hot. This was what he needed, the photo helped him a lot, although he can feel how he bathed it in cum, he can fix it quickly, clean every single trail of his sin before you get home-

"C-Choso?"

His hand, which was riding out the last few strokes of pleasure on his ultra-sensitive cock freezes and his eyes snap open to find you staring at the mess he is, just what he wanted to avoid, damn it! -

"B-Baby, I-" he starts to stutter and stops abruptly when his eyes register what he did.

Your cheeks are painted a deep red but that's to be expected, what's not to be expected are the cum globes that slide down your pretty face, down your cheeks, varnishing your eyelashes and part of your eye, messing up your perfect hairdo, staining your work uniform. Choso enraptured himself so much in his own fantasy that he didn't notice when you walked through the door, or when you approached him.

Now, he has no idea how to begin to apologize, the words are stuck in his dry throat. Are you angry? Are you furious with him? Your beautiful eyes only watch him, better said, ogle him: pants pooling at his ankles, shirt bunched up to his neck, his cock limp but slowly filling with blood again between his trembling fingers, the cockhead shiny and pink and still, spewing cum to further mortify him. 

Choso is paralyzed, unable to move and his mouth barely managing to open to spit out any explanation, snaps shut again from the shame that crushes him.

But that shame turns to bewilderment when his eyes catch the subtle movement of your hand gathering a glob of his cum that slides down your cheek, with all the delicacy and grace that define you, and you play with it for a second between your fingers before opening your mouth and dipping the digits between your tongue. Choso's jaw drops to the floor and his breathing hastens again, his cursed technique going out of control once more, summoning blood to that still throbbing and extra-sensitive part.

Your pretty lips curve into a feline grin that makes him feel like your prey, and he swallows hard, clenching his fists to keep his body from shaking, when his eyes meet yours.

“Is this what you do when I go to work, sweetheart?” you ask, licking your lips to collect the cum resting there, “you jerk off while looking at my graduation picture?” a flirtatious giggle escapes you when you specify, “...same picture where your little brother is, too, how dirty.”

Choso is a bundle of nerves, blood just keeps pooling where it shouldn’t, he’s so hard and swollen that your eyes drop there almost automatically.

“I’ll take care of cleaning everything-” 

You interrupt his apology, raising a finger to get his attention so he can see you, as you lift your pencil skirt up to your thighs and slowly settle yourself comfortably on top of his lap, nestling his cock between your warm stockinged thighs. Choso shivers and carefully as if asking for permission, let his large hands slide down those wide, inviting thighs. 

“…How about you start by cleaning me up first?” Your warm hand tangles around his firm erection and he growls low, “Then you get me dirty again,” you slide those fingers up and down on his stiffness in shameless incitement and smile when notice his eyes roll back his skull, “and we repeat it all until dawn.”

“Yesyesyesyesyes, whatever my girl wants-…” the words rush from his mouth, “…just one request,” an eyebrow rises on your face, and he grins, warm and almost, shyly. “May I see the tattoo of my lips again?”

CLICK HERE TO READ ALL MY JJK SMUT FANFICTION COMMISSIONS

SUGURU GETO

“Do you… Do you really like it, Suguru?” You ask, lolling your head forward and humming when his fingers slowly travel up and unclasp your bra, the last barrier you have left to cover yourself.  Every little breathy sound you make comes ragged and soiled with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

“Way too much, baby,” his low voice carefully admits from above you.  “I don’t know why you hid it from me in the first place. Don’t—don’t do that. You don’t have to. EVER.”

Your breathing keeps picking up when he keeps trailing his hands around either side of your now naked torso, running the tips of his fingers down your ribs and slowly tracing the curve of your breast, letting the pads of his fingers memorize the shape of his tattooed lips on your skin.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Suguru whisper, quite suddenly emboldened by his growing need. The gentle caresses pause at the very top of perked nipple, holding there for a second while he seems to think about it. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.”

Soon his touch lifts away and he appreciates the sound your hands make, as those little limbs make haste in follow his request, the muffled shuffling of fabric being stripped of your skin somewhere close by and the soft noise it makes dropping to the floor, close to erotic to the first-grade sorcerer. And then suddenly—

“Oh, God—” you breathe, nearly melting into the seat of his school office when large, warm palms meet your skin and slowly start to ride the curve of your neck and collarbone downwards. Dammit, why does it feel so good?  Suguru Geto smirks, like the knowing devil that he is. “Do my hands feel amazing, baby? It’s just two palms, ten fingers-”

 “…. But they’re so strong and raspy and big….” Your mouth babbles unrestrainedly, “touch me more, Geto….”

One palm butterfly out across your breast and you moan, lewdly loud. “If Director Yaga hears, I’m going to be so fired, pretty.”

“S-Sorry…” 

Dipping and squeezing the soft, pillowy flesh of your boobs, Suguru Geto stares down at you, drinking every emotion and expression he can rip out of you. “Ho—fuck, like that.” Your approval is everything to him.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, his voice ocean-deep and scraping across the shell of your eager ear when he leans closer from his privileged height to press one bended knee to the chair, right in between your thighs. He lets one hand drift down into the space he created and rub circles on the moist mound of flesh there, as his other hand comes up to cradle your chin, urging you to stretch your neck up and long for him. “You look so pretty like this— all naked and horny for me.”

“Someone might come in, lock the door…” you breathe in protest, remembering your shy nature, and he ignores you, slowly dragging his palm down your trembling slit.

“You don't get a tattoo as sensual as that, if you don't want everyone to drool after you,” he says, and you’re helpless to stop the embarrassing way your knees suddenly jerk farther apart when his hand moves to press a fat finger on your clit. “… Showing all the monkeys how sexy you are, and then showing them that you belong ONLY to me.”  

And then he squeeeezes your bundle of nerves, and your hips nearly come off the seat with it.

Nothing else exists besides your boyfriend’s pair of hands now gripping the bottom of the chair, to position your body closer to him. You hear yourself take exactly one shaky breath before his arms suddenly slithered under your knees, hauling you forward. Your lower back dips in at the angle, your pelvis now jutted out and propped up by the edge of the seat.  

Suguru Geto licks his lips as if he as if a banquet were being presented to him and the following is him lowering himself to the floor in front of you, running those deliciously strong palms up the length of your thighs. Your new position encourages you to spread your legs wider for him.

“I think my lips, tattooed here,” his long, cascading loose hair caresses the inner skin of your thighs as he leans down to the lower curve of your tummy and places a soft, warm kiss, “would look great, as well.”

“Y-You think?” 

Your quivering lips exhale at the feeling of his hot, plump lips meeting your feverish skin, and hearing the sound of his breath hitch at the visual you give him, goosebumps spread all you’re your body.  

“I know it,” He promises, opening you up wider, subtly moving himself closer into the gap and letting you cradle his torso with your knees.

“Mine to feast on, mine to pamper,” the special grade sorcerer rumbles quietly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he licks his lips, hungrier. “So, mine to… own.”

“….-Own?”

And then you’re abruptly cut off by your own gasp when a soft, dexterous tongue slowly envelopes your clit. His lips slick between your folds as his rogue tongue flicks out like hot velvet to flutter greedily over your clit, humming low in his throat as he eats you with unreserved gluttony.

“Fuck, this is heaven. This is fucking heaven,” he rumbles against your sloppy pussy, “my sweet girl laying with her legs open and letting me eat her after I’m done giving classes—….”  

“Su-Sugu… oh, fuck—” Your words are barely discernible through the pleasure, deformed by the sound of your breaths and gasps. “Do—Do you think someone can h-hear us?”

Suguru smirk is swallow by your folds and his snicker muffled by his need to keep eating you to even let you know that a six eyes user had been spying from the other side of the door since you started. 

“Noones at the school at these hours but us teachers, baby. Don’t worry your pretty head.” 

His fingers curl against your thighs, his tongue swirling gentle circles around your swollen clit as he sinks two of his thick fingers deep inside your cunt. Both of your hands thrust out without thinking and snatch at his loose raven mane, fingers burying themselves into thick waves of hair. “Oh—f-fuck—”

He makes a rough little growl into your warmth every time you tug on his hair, and you tug every time, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in again, until it becomes a vicious circle where both do that steadily, over and over until you’re sweating, hips arching up and doing everything you can to entice him to hurry the fuck up.

Suguru snickers again at your impatience, instead, he’s unbelievably slow, continuing to lick his hot tongue through your folds as his eager finger fuck you, so utterly patient and steadfast, learning the right notes to drive you crazy.

“You are close, aren’t you, dove?” he flicks that wicked tongue applying more pressure to your abused clit, “something’s beginning to burn in your core, I can see the cursed energy spreading threateningly along the muscles in your pelvis.” Suguru narrated what he felt with his own cursed energy, without a doubt the out-looker seeing the same as he was, just in HD. “It rises through your abdomen like unstoppable wave, seeps down into your knees and wraps around them. Your breathing is getting shallower, the base of your lungs suddenly feels too cramped by the oncoming explosion. I know, baby, just let it happen, don’t hold back. You can squirt on my face. I’m eager for you to baptize me on your fountain of love—”  

“Stop it, Suguru… I’m-I’m not…. I will not….” 

Your resistance is nothing but amusing to him, this is your nemesis. You hate how sensitive you are, how easy your boyfriends read you and undoes you with his mere tongue, you hate that squirting jet that makes your toes curl and your eyes blank, but once it’s over, makes you very aware of the mess you made.

Suguru finally speeds up, and that rock steady display of ferocity makes you want to cry.

“—I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, everything inside pulling up fierce and tight, your chest heaving and your grip in his hair turning to iron. “—Oh, fuck, I’m g-gonna cum—I-I—”

A quiet mhmmm sound rumbles low in gentle encouragement, and then he takes a second to softly suck on your clit to push you over the edge. His fingers curl, press up hard against something absolutely fucking devastating inside you, Suguru Geto knows you so well is almost unfair, and bite your lip is all you can do to stifle a sob when your body suddenly erupts in searing burning ecstasy.

Your back arches and you cum in his mouth, wailing his name while he groans raggedly and drags you through it. It’s hot and wet, in equal parts chaos and bliss. You’re still trying to calm your breathing when a gentle softness presses against your lips, mindful of rewarding you with as much love as he can profess in one single, chaste kiss. It’s over way too soon though, and by the time you open your eyes again, you blearily blink them at him. He’s already standing, impeccable and not one strand of raven hair out of place. A swift smirk curving his lips while his stare never strays from your destroyed persona, heaving and sweating and naked in a public place. Fuck! He adores you so much.

“Are you hungry?” He eventually asks looking straight ahead instead of you, the low frequency of his natural voice not masked anymore by his arousal.

You blink up at him twice, still slouched over the seat butt-naked, trying to figure out who is he talking to, all your clothes spread around his desk and the floor when you hear some familiar voice answer from the other side of the door.

“Starving.”

CLICK HERE TO READ ALL MY JJK SMUT FANFICTION COMMISSIONS

RYOMEN SUKUNA

The euphoric sway of his hips meeting yours should be an affront to the natural order, your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, had been maintaining the same rhythm, precision and firmness in each thrust for more than forty minutes. 

You are cockdrunk, you don’t remember your own name, only his. Which comes out of your trembling lips in pieces or unfinished syllables. Your mind is a mess, a rabid mess of hormones and pleasure, but your insides are the most affected, making you endure mini-orgasm after mini-orgasm that shake your frame violently, leaving all your muscles exhausted and sweaty. Breathing ragged, face pressed against the sheets of his bed and your wrists swallowed by his large hands against the firm mattress, while he introduced you again and again to your new deity, his thick cock, which seemed just as hard and ready to continue making a mess of you. 

“…I’m sure you’ll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again now, won’t you, princess?”

Although his voice was breathless, it was still firm and solid, not like your pathetic moans.

“I…I thought you’d-…that you’d like it, Kuna-...” That sentence trailed from your half-open lips, between a sigh and a moan as he changed the angle to hit that spot of nerves inside you that made you see stars.

“I know you meant well but it was still unacceptable,” your boyfriend scolds you again, and a delicious shiver runs down your spine as his hands abandons your wrists in order to better hook on either side of your hip. The mere sensation of his thick fingers digging into your soft skin makes you cum again. "Fuck- you squeeze me so good, baby..." he praises, plunging his massive cock deeper into your quivering hole just to draw out more sensations, "-.... shit! If I cum again, are you going to keep it warm for me inside your tummy, princess?"

"Kuna, yes, always..." you moan into the sheets miserably, "don't stay mad at me, please, my love-"

"I loved the tattoo of my lips on your under-boob, don't doubt that" he affirms, firm thrusts clapping his midsection with yours, like giving his stamina a cheer. "But I HATED the fact that some guy had to do it. Don't you know any female tattoo artists, Isn't this the era of women's empowerment?"

You crawl forward and he catches you before you can shift positions. "Kuna, baby... let me ride you, so I can control the speed... I can't cum again-"

"I. Don't. care." He replies, skewering you again on his veiny, thick piece of meat that still feels like stone. "I'll put it in you as fast as I want and as long as I want until you learn your lesson-"

"Which is?"

"You, cocky little thing." He chuckles and emphasizes each word with a thrust. "Nobody. Touches. You. But. ME! Just ME."

“Mine.” Thrust, “Mine~” thrust, thrust, thrust, “MINE.” Thrustthrustthrustthrustthrustthrust—

Sukuna doesn´t hold himself back, even after he comes for the sixth time, he keeps going.

Slipping in and out of you, still rock hard, twisting you uncaringly in all kinds of positions and surfaces that his room provides, just fucking his cum inside you with every unpunished thrust.

You are tired, you are actually exhausted, you are emotional-... and you are drained.

“—I'm yours, just yours... hands off, w-world.... just y-yours~”

His hips stop, finally halting all movement when you give him what he's looking for, he just wants to hear that over and over again from your quivering lips and raspy throat, he just wants you to say it again. Maybe you should tattoo that as well.

Making you come one last glorious and almost painful time. Your naked body is left, used, sweaty and worn but warmly and safely wrapped in his arms. A huge smirk on his lips before he kisses your eyelids, so you open them again and once again you do.

"Now that we got that out of the way, let me see it again..." Sukuna asks, gently squeezing your tattooed boob inside his large palm, letting his eyes scan each patch of skin and how well he marked you with little hints of hickeys and teeth. "...I think we can play twister with every mark I left on your body," he snickers amused, "...but let's start with those lips on your breast."

“Jerk.”

He grins, satisfied. Hugging you harder to plaster your form closer to him, squeezing that sassy grin out of your pretty face.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

[briefinquiries]

Spencer Reid x Reader: Until You Do

Prompt: You & Reid have unspoken feelings for each other.

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood / injury mention

A/N: This is a shameless repost (still trying to repost my fics since they got deleted. Enjoy :)

“Sorry I’m late,” Spencer says as he hurries into the briefing room. In one swift motion he slides his bag off his shoulder, laying it gently on the floor beside him, as he takes a seat in the only empty chair around the table. 

Emily nods slightly in response, simultaneously telling Spencer that his lateness was excused, while also encouraging Garcia to continue presenting the team’s current case. 

“Right, um, two people have been murdered outside of Seattle in their homes all within the last two weeks-”

While Garcia continues to speak, you let your gaze wander towards Spencer.  His eyes are intently staring at the picture presented on the screen. He looks okay today, still tired, but not as disheveled as you’ve seen recently. You wonder if maybe he slept in today, and that was why he’d been late to work.  

Prentiss starts talking about the victimology of the case when Spencer’s eyes shift and catch yours. Instantly, you’re flooded with the embarrassment of being caught staring. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly move your gaze into your hands resting in your lap. You feel Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a few moments longer, all the while hoping that he doesn’t notice the shade of pink your cheeks are slowly turning.  

Focus, you think to yourself.You have a job to do. You turn your attention to the grisly murder scene displayed on the screen and tune back into Garcia’s voice.

“But hold onto your hats, crime fighters, because that’s not even the worst of this whole thing,” she elaborates. “On top of… all the gory things Emily just said, these poor people were all found missing parts of their liver and pancreas.” Her face contorts into a look of disgust, as if just saying the words out loud brought a bad taste to her mouth. “And check this out,” Garcia clicks a button on her remote and brings up a coroner’s report on the screen.

Reid scans the document faster than anyone else. He’s the first to speak. “They were alive when the Unsub cut out their organs.”

Garcia’s sad inhale can be heard throughout the room. “And that is why I am perfectly happy staying in the safe confinement of my bat cave while you all go out and fight evil.”

After Emily calls for wheels up in twenty, the team disperses out of the briefing room, each heading to their desks to gather their to-go bags and whatever other materials they might need for the ride to Seattle. 

“Does Spence look off to you today?” JJ’s voice comes from behind you while you rummage through the top drawer of your desk for your cell phone. She leans against your chair casually and looks towards Reid. He’s standing across the room, clutching his shoulder bag and listening intently to something Matt was saying. 

“What?” you sputter, just the sound of Spencer’s name sending you into overdrive. “How should I know?”

You realize only after the words leave your mouth how defensive they sound. You bite your lip and try to backpedal. “I mean, I don’t know. He seems fine to me.”  

JJ narrows her eyes at you, clearly not buying your act. She is a profiler after all. But before she can interrogate your strange behavior any further, you stand up, grabbing hold of your duffel bag, and brush past her towards the exit. 

The truth is, you’ve had feelings for Spencer for a while now. Longer than you’d like to admit. But you’re barely able to admit that to yourself, let alone anyone else. Especially anyone on the team.  

Your love is unrealistic and unrequited. A combination that is destined for disaster. So, despite everything inside of you screaming for you to act on your feelings, you choose to bury them.  Because that is what’s best for everyone. Everyone except for you.  

…

Spencer tries not to overthink you staring at him. Or the way your cheeks blushed that beautiful shade of pink when he caught you. He can’t keep getting his hopes up when it comes to you, though. He’s already been let down so many times.  

He thinks back to the very first week you joined the Bureau. God, he was absolutely starstruck as soon as you walked through the door. And if Luke hadn’t commented on the drool pouring down Spencer’s chin, he’s sure his mouth would’ve dropped all the way to his feet.  

He’s even more intrigued the more he gets to know you- or rather, not know you, as time went on. Your incessant need for privacy peaked Spencer’s interest. You are mysterious, and Spencer’s always loved a good mystery. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me tonight?” Spencer had asked you, only a month after you’d joined the team.  

He still remembers how nervous he was, his clammy hands clutching tightly to the strap of his bag. He had to remind himself to breathe or else he might have passed out. 

You barely looked up from the paperwork at your desk before turning him down. “Can’t tonight, I’m playing catch up,” you had said, your voice was void of anything even resembling interest. 

“Don’t give up,” Luke had told him, clapping his shoulder roughly in the elevator. “I think she’s into you. Just ask again in a couple days, maybe she really was just busy.”

Now that his confidence was shaken, it took extra convincing in order to gain enough courage to ask you to dinner a second time.  His stomach was full of butterflies, which Spencer always thought was a stupid analogy until now. But he swears he can feel their wings fluttering around inside of him as he approaches you, putting your coat on and ready to head home. 

“Uh, H-Hi,” he stutters. “Do you want to grab some dinner? With uh, with me?” He can hear the shakiness in his own voice.  

“Sure,” you had replied, looking up just as you finished doing up the last button on your jacket.  You pushed the hair out of your face and smiled at him before turning around to face your coworkers. “Hey- JJ, Pen, Rossi. Spencer and I are gonna grab dinner, you guys in?”

All the butterflies in Spencer’s stomach instantly stilled.

You had made it painfully obvious to Spencer that you were not interested. And he wasn’t one to push. 

Spencer tried getting over you. He tried stifling his feelings, ignoring the way he’d drop anything as soon as he heard your voice, or the way his spirits would instantly be lifted if Emily assigned the two of you the same task during a case. He tried not to notice that your favorite breakfast was toast with avocados or that you always bite your lip whenever you were stressed. And he tried not to pay attention to the fact that you liked your coffee with honey and jiggled your leg whenever you had to sit in one place for too long. Because that’s not the type of thing coworkers noticed about one another. 

But you had a way of always pulling him back in.  Like that morning you brought Spencer a coffee. You had laughed and said the barista messed up your original order, so you got that one for free, honestly it was no big deal. But Spencer tasted the hint of cinnamon and extra cream, and smiled to himself. He spent the entire morning dwelling on the fact that you also knew exactly how he liked his coffee.    

Or, like when he’d catch you gazing at him during the briefing meetings. 

He’s almost sure that it was nothing. He did barge in late, afterall. Everyone stared at him, right?  So why can’t he stop thinking about it?

…

Seattle lived up to its rainy reputation. From the minute the team lands, the skies were dark with storm clouds.  

Currently, you are all held up at the police station. After coordinating with the captain and deputies, you all start setting up in the back conference room. You work with Matt to start tacking up the info you already knew– pictures of the current victims, lists of possible witnesses all within a three mile radius of each crime scene, and any evidence that had been found.  

Spencer immediately delves into cracking the geological profile, he has his nose practically pressed into the map of the area an officer had provided, seeing things no one else could. While the rest of the team worked through the Seattle PD’s casefiles, Garcia is on speaker phone, the light tapping of her keys can be heard faintly in the background.    

“Garcia, any known connection between the victims?”  

“Not that I can immediately see,” her voice rings through the speaker phone. “Katie is a second grade teacher, Ethan is a personal trainer at the local gym.”

“No gender preference,” JJ says while comparing the driver’s license photos of the victims. 

“No race preference either,” Luke observes. 

“Probably not surrogates,” Rossi drums his fingers together, too many differences.

“We have to be missing something,” Tara’s eyes wander from the photos of the victims.  

“I’ll keep digging,” Garcia assures you all. “I just might need to get my bigger shovel.”

That evening, a third victim is found just across town.  

“Luke, Matt– I want you to head to the dumpsite, canvas the area.” Emily orders. “Y/N, head to the coroner and check if the MO is the same for this victim as it was for the other two. See if you can find anything out about the missing organs. That has to mean something, we just don’t know what yet. JJ, Rossi, can you check out the victim’s house? Maybe we can start narrowing in how these people are all connected. Tara, the victims' family will be here soon. I’d like you to talk to them.”

Emily turns her back towards Spencer. He’s drawing lines on the map. “I’d like you to stay here, Reid. Maybe that third dumpsite can help you narrow down the geological profile.”  

The team all nod in agreement, before beginning to disperse out of the conference room.  

Garcia’s soft voice can be heard through the speaker ordering everyone to “Be safe!”

…

Once Reid is able to finish up his geological profile, pinpointing the Unsub’s comfort zone within the city, he really starts to feel like they’re closing in.  

“Using the abduction and dumpsites for each victim, I was able to narrow it down to this area,” Reid explains to Emily, drawing the lines on the board. Connected, they formed a small radius. “I think the Unsub lives in one of these three neighborhoods. Matt and Luke are in this area,” he points to one district. “And JJ and Rossi are here,” he points to the second. “If it’s alright, I’d like to head out to the last neighborhood, Medina. I’ll talk to the witnesses there and see what I can find out?”

Emily nods, “Good work, Reid.”

With Spencer gone, Tara and Emily are the only two left at the police station. Emily continues pouring over the evidence while Tara speaks to the victims’ families. About fifteen minutes after Reid leaves the precinct, Emily gets a call on her cell.

“What do you have?” 

“Emily, I think I might have found the connection we were missing between the victims.” You say through the phone. You’re at the coroner’s office still, the bodies of the three victims laid out in front of you. “The doctor said each of the victims had the blood type AB-negative.”

“That’s the rarest blood type,” Emily adds. 

“Exactly. Which could be a coincidence, but the fact that he’s removing organs makes me wonder– what if he’s trying to do a transplant?”

The pieces missing from the profile slowly start to click together in Emily’s mind. “Good work,” she says quickly. “Can you stay on the line for a minute? I’m going to patch Garcia through.”   

“Yeah,” you confirm. You wait a few moments before you hear a dial tone. After only one ring, the line connects. “Garcia, I need you to tell me if any of the names on our lists are suffering from fatal illnesses involving either the pancreas or the liver.”

Emily can hear the clicking of Garcia’s keyboard keys on the other end of the line as she works. 

“Zilch,” she says, disappointment evident in her voice.  

You sigh, but your gut really told you that this was important, so you pressed on. “What about family members of the names on our lists?”

After a few moments of searching Garcia inhales sharply. “There’s a Philip Gardiner on our list and his father, Joseph Gardiner, is currently suffering from stage 4 pancreatitis cancer.”  

There’s a brief pause before Garcia adds, “His medical records show that his father has AB negative blood type.”

“How would he know which victims have the same blood type as his father?” You ask. 

There’s a brief pause before Garcia says, “Philip Gardiner is a medical assistant at the family practice in Medina.”

“Let me guess–” Emily’s voice trails off. 

“All three victims were patients at that practice.”

That’s all that Emily needs. “What’s his address?”

“Already sent to all your phones.”

“Thanks, Garcia.” 

In a haste, Emily dials in the remaining members of the team. One by one, each group answers.  Everyone except for Spencer. His phone hits his voicemail, but Emily continues anyway. 

“Guys, I think we got him. A guy named Philip Gardiner, he was on our list of witnesses. His father has stage four pancreatitis cancer and we think he’s trying to find a healthy pancreas to give to his father.”

Emily looks up the address on the map Spencer so carefully drew out. She runs her finger along the map before finding the exact address.  

Meanwhile, you hear the ping of Garcia’s text ring through your phone. When you check the GPS distance, it says you’re only a mile away. In a haste, you offer the coroner a quick ‘thank you’, before heading out of the medical examiner’s room.  

“I’ve got his address here on the map,” Prentiss explains. Her finger trails around the region of the Unsub’s house, her heart stopping when she realizes that was the area that Reid was going to question witnesses… Alone.  “Penelope,” she says, her voice higher than usual. “Give me the list of witnesses in the Medina area.”   

Garcia begins rattling off a small list of names through the phone. But she inhales sharply after a moment before reading out the name, “Philip Gardiner.”

“Reid went to question the witnesses in the Medina area. He left just over an hour ago,” Prentiss explains.  

“What?” Your voice rings loudly on the line, as you hoist yourself into the SUV. Your entire insides fill with dread. 

“Can we try his phone again,” Matt suggests. 

“I’ve tried three times now, the first time it rang, but now it’s going straight to voicemail,” Garcia says worriedly.  

“Who’s closest to Medina?” Luke asks.  

“I am,” you say, checking your GPS. You’re only a few minutes away from where Reid was. Instantly, you fumble with your keys before harshly turning them and throwing the vehicle into gear. On impulse, you began speeding down the road in the direction of Spencer, pressing the pedal continuously harder.. 

“I want you to wait for backup,” Emily declares sternly. “This Unsub is armed and dangerous, I do not want you going there alone.”

“Emily–” you argue. Your knuckles are growing white with how hard you’re gripping the wheel. The sheer thought of Spencer, alone with that monster, makes you cringe. He had no clue that he was walking into the house of the Unsub– therefore he could have been jumped, or blitzed, or worse… You shake the thought out of your mind and focus instead on the road ahead. 

“Wait for Alvez and Simmons, they’re only ten minutes behind you,” Emily says over the phone.  

You shake your head, even though you know none of them can see you. “No, no, no,” you say, your voice starting to waiver. “No, that’s too long– he doesn’t know–”

“We’re on our way now,” Luke’s voice rings through the line.  

“It’s Reid–” you gasp, your eyes filling with tears. “I can’t leave him in there alone.”  You can’t stand the thought of Reid being hurt, when there’s the possibility of stopping it. If you go there now, you can save him– but if you wait for backup, like Prentiss suggested, he could die. 

“Y/L/N,” Emily states sternly. “I am ordering you to wait for backup, is that understood?”  

You continue speeding down the road, the Unsub’s house just up ahead. You can see Reid’s discarded vehicle parked on the side of the street, confirming what you already knew. He’s there. Your heart clenches in your chest.  

“It’s Spencer–” your voice is just above a whisper. You have direct orders from your supervisor.  Direct orders you know you need to follow, or else there would be serious repercussions. You could be demoted, or transferred, or fired from the Bureau all together. But then you imagine Spencer’s face, and you pictured the crime scene photos from the case. What if Spencer wound up like all those other victims? Cut up and discarded on the side of the road like a piece of garbage? You imagine him in there– alone with the Unsub, wondering if anyone was coming to save him. Yes, you think. You’re coming to save him. “I can’t wait, Emily. I’m sorry.”

You only hear the beginning part of her protest before you end the phone call with a click. You waste no time in launching yourself out of the black SUV, weapon drawn and quickly approaching the front door of the house.  

The drizzle that had been steady since that morning has turned into a hard rain fall. It makes seeing anything around you increasingly difficult. But once you approach the Unsub’s porch, you’re able to take a peek through the windows.  You’re hoping to see any sign of Spencer,  but instead, the curtains are drawn obstructing your view. 

With your heart beating wildly underneath your own chest, you burst through the unlocked door of Philip Gardiner’s home.  

As soon as your eyes adjust to the darkness inside the house, you’re shocked by what you see.  The first thing you notice is Reid. He’s kneeling on the ground with his hands placed above his head. His gun was laying on the ground five feet away from him, discarded like he’d been ordered to drop it. The second thing you realize is that you’re outnumbered. Because not only is Philip Gardiner pointing a gun at Spencer, but his father, Joseph is as well.  

You realize that you just assumed Philip’s father was incapacitated, too sickly and unwell to play any part in these murders. But now you can see that obviously isn’t the case.  

All eyes turn towards you upon your sudden entrance. But you only look at Reid. His sunken eyes widening when he sees you.    

“Put the gun down,” Philip orders, his voice deep and thick with malice. Joseph steps forward and grabs the back of Reid’s head, hoisting it back. He presses the barrel of his pistol right into Reid’s temple.    

“Okay,” you say instantly, trying not to panic. “Okay, okay–” you slowly start to lower your gun.  “I’m putting it down.” Don’t shoot him, don’t shoot him, your mind raced.  

You slide your glock across the floor towards Philip and his father carefully. The younger of the two Unsub’s wastes no time in scooping it up off the floor, before aiming his own gun at you.  

“Why’re you here?” he bellows, his voice shaking with emotion. “Why can’t you people just leave us alone!”

You take a deep breath, a feeble attempt at steadying yourself. “Philip, I’m here to help you,” you say calmly. 

The confusion on his face urges you to continue. “Actually, I’m here to help your father,” you tell him.

“My father?” he asks, his voice littered with skepticism.  

“That’s right, I heard he was sick.”

Philip steps closer to you, the gun never wavering in his hand. “That’s right.”

“I’m here to help. You need a transplant. Pancreas, right?”

Philip’s eyes widen and that’s when you realize you’ve gotten him right where you wanted him.  “Your father is AB-negative, right? That’s the rarest blood type, it’s hard to find a match.”

Your eyes dart to Spencer quickly, who’s still kneeling on the floor. He’s looking at you with desperation and fear plastered over his face. You wish he could read your mind, could hear what you were thinking. You are going to get out of here, you’d tell him. I am going to make sure that you get out of here alive.  

Even if it means I don’t. 

“He can’t help you. He won’t be a match,” you tell them, gesturing towards Spencer.  “But I am.”

“Is this a trick?” Philip asks, his hand was starting to shake from how firmly he was holding the gun. 

“No,” you say, shaking your head in unison with your words. You’re surprised at how calm you’re starting to feel. “No tricks. Just a trade. Let him go, and you can take me instead. Cut me open, take what you want. Just– just let him go,” you plead.  

Philip and his dad both nod slowly.

“Okay,” you say, slowly walking towards the unsubs, your hands raised in the air to show them you aren’t going to play any tricks.  

“What’re you doing?” Reid’s voice is high pitched and panicked. He’s looking frantically at you for answers 

But you ignore him.  

“Let him go,” you urge Gardiner. He nods, and his father uses the fist full of Reid’s hair he still had a hold of to hoist him up on his feet. 

Reid stands, but his eyes remain trained on you. “Y/N, stop– what’re you doing?”

Gardiner grabs a hold of your vest when you’re close enough, tugging you into his embrace. He bars his arm around your neck and plants the gun on your temple. “Go–” he orders Reid.   

Spencer’s stumbling towards the door. “No, no, no–” he stutters. 

“Go, or I’ll shoot her right here,” Gardiner orders. You feel the hard, cold barrel of the gun press deeper into the tissue of your temple, but you still don’t shake. Spencer is going to be safe, you think. That’s all that mattered.  

Reid’s eyes are wide and watery. He’s looking at you wildly, like his genius brain can’t comprehend anything that’s happening.   

But you nod towards him reassuringly. “Spencer, it’s okay,” you tell him, surprised, yet again, by how calm you feel. “Go, it’s okay.” 

It was an easy choice sacrificing yourself for Spencer. The concept of death was scary, but the idea of losing Spencer? That was just unbearable. Plus, there’s no doubt that he’s infinitely more valuable to the team than you are. You know they’d mourn your loss. But they’d get over it, you were replaceable with any other agent. But Spencer? That would leave a wound no other profiler could fill. 

You catch one last glimpse of Spencer before Joseph Gardiner's dad escorts him outside of the house. As the door shuts, ensuring Reid is safe, you’re finally able to exhale the breath of air you’ve been holding in. Spencer is going to be okay.  

“Come with me,” Gardiner orders gruffly. He grabs you by your elbow and drags you towards the back of the house. You stumble on your feet, trying to keep up with his pace. Gardiner leads you all the way through the hallway, around a corner, and through the sliding back door. The exit leads to a deck on the back of the house. It looks old, with chipped red paint and clutter scattered all around it.  

You make your way across it and down a few stairs. When your feet hit the ground, they squish from impact on the wet grass beneath them. Gardiner leads you just a few feet forward. Attached to the back of his house is a cellar door. He undoes the latch before hoisting it open, revealing a pitch black basement. 

“Get in,” he orders, pointing the gun right between your shoulder blades.  

You hesitate briefly, which proves to be a costly mistake. Gardiner hoists the pistol back and rams it into the side of your head. Your entire body whips forward and you stumble on your feet.  “I said get in!” he screams. 

As you feel the blood already trickling down your temple, you nod.  

Taking one step forward, you begin descending into Philip Gardiner’s basement.  

The first thing you do when you’re fully inside is gasp at the smell. It ensnares all of your senses, completely overwhelming you. The back of your hand pressed against your nose does little to mask it.  

Gardiner climbs into the basement after you and turns on a light, illuminating the horror scene in front of you. There are surgical tools and blades on a metal tray wheeled next to a bed with restraints. The bed has dark, crimson blood still on it.  

You’ve walked into horror scenes, much like this one, a countless number of times. But now that you knew this scene was set for you, it sent unsettling shivers down your spine. Better you than Spencer, you remind yourself. The thought makes you instantly feel calmer.  

Gardiner grabs a pair of zip ties on top of the shelf and throws them towards you. “Put them on,” he orders. You nod, and quickly obey him, your head still throbbing from the last time you hesitated. 

Now that you’re restrained, Philip steadily works to set up equipment by placing a wide variety of tools on the metal tray. You realize that he was getting ready to kill you.  

Despite the obvious fear running through your veins, your mind slowly begins to wander to Spencer. The look on his face when Joseph hauled him out of the room, away from you, is burned into your mind. The hurt, the fear, and the confusion all on full display. But he is safe now, and that is all that mattered. 

You wonder if Spencer would figure out why you took his place tonight. You wonder if he’d realize that it wasn’t even an option for you not to, that you had no other choice. You wonder if he knew you couldn’t live without him, or would ever want to.

Philip Gardiner continues stalking around the room. The knives laid out on display make you nauseous. You combat it by taking slow, deep breaths, all while repeating the mantra in your head; he was safe. 

Except suddenly, your mantra is interrupted when the latch to the cellar door bursts open with a bang. Two tall, muscular figures descend down the stairs and into the cellar, their guns drawn.  

“Drop it,” Luke orders sternly, he’s moving in towards Gardiner with a look of pure hatred on his face. Philip raises his hand above his head, the scalpel still clutched tightly in his grasp. But Luke is quick to disarm him before grabbing a pair of handcuffs and clicking them around Gardiner’s wrists.   

Matt, meanwhile, attends to you. He uses his knife to break through the zip ties that have managed to almost cut all the circulation off from your wrists.  

“Let me see,” he says softly, tending to the cut on your forehead. You only now realize that the blood oozing from it had mostly dried, caking itself to the side of your face.    

“I’m fine,” you grumble, trying to stand up. Luke drags Gardiner past you and Matt and up the stairs.  

“That doesn’t look fine,” Matt says. “You’re going to need stitches.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, raising your hand to touch the wound. Despite your efforts, you wince at the contact. As you finally make it to your feet, you’re woozier than expected. You waiver slightly in place, your head spinning.   

“Easy,” he says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.  

“Said ‘m fine,” you grumble again.  

Matt nods and adds sarcastically, “Whatever you say.”

He leads you out of the basement, his hand never leaving your shoulder. It’s not until you’re outside, in the cool night air, when you see an entire scene unfolding around you.  

All four of the black SUV’s are parked outside the Unsub’s house– yours with the driver’s side door still wide open from when you’d previously left it in a haste. There’s also an abundance of squad cars gathered, their lights flashing blues and reds, reflecting grimly in the dark. There’s two ambulances parked near the road, two medics rushing frantically towards you.   

“Where’s Reid?” you ask Matt, your eyes searching the crowd for him. 

“Medic’s checking him out right now. He’s okay though.”

You sigh a breath of relief, exhaling tension that you didn’t even realize was still inside of you.  That’s all that mattered. You can handle everything else. 

At least that’s what you thought. You groan when you see Emily jogging over, her vest still strapped on.  

After disobeying her direct orders, you immediately know you were in for it. 

“Matt, how is she?” she asks, refusing to actually look at you. 

“Banged up, possible concussion– I think she’ll need stitches.”

“I can hear you,” you say, wondering why the two of them were talking about you like you were unconscious, or not even present. 

“Get her to the medics,” Emily orders. “We’ll talk later,” she says, her dark eyes piercing yours. 

You nod slowly. You’d gone against her wishes and broken her trust. The adrenaline that had previously been rushing through your body prevented you from originally seeing that. But the rush is starting to fade, and in its wake left a tremendous amount of guilt and shame. You never meant to cross Emily. You had only wanted to save Reid. She had to understand that, right?  

Either way, you made a choice, and now you’d pay the consequences. But it was an easy choice. One that you would make over and over again. Because you’d always choose Spencer, no matter what.  

Matt only lets you go when the medics reach you. They lead you the rest of the way to the ambulance, where you sit on the edge of the back door. The EMT wraps a coarse blanket around your shoulders before starting an exam. He shines lights in your eyes, asks you repetitive questions, and checks your wound. After a while, you zone it all out.  

Until you see him. 

He’s walking past the second ambulance with his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. He has a small bandage placed just above his left eyebrow. You gaze at Spencer, checking him over. He looks okay, other than the bandage, he’s unharmed. You exhale another breath of relief. When he locks eyes with you, you can’t help but smile.  

He keeps his gaze locked on yours, but he doesn’t smile back. Instead, his face remains stoic and serious, his eyes glaring with anger, before looking away. He turns on his feet and walks towards one of the black SUV’s, climbing into the front seat and snapping the door shut  Your smile quickly melts away. 

… 

On the plane ride home, you take a seat directly across from Spencer.  He’s got his nose already stuffed in a book. He doesn’t even glance up when you sit down.  

“Spencer,” you say, trying to get his attention.  

But he ignores you.  

“Reid,” you huff, quickly growing frustrated by his silence. 

Spencer snaps his book shut suddenly and stands up from his seat. Without so much as a single glance he strides across the jet and finds a seat next to Luke and Matt. He crosses one leg over the other and opens his book back up again, going back to his literature like nothing had just happened– like he hadn’t just ripped out your entire heart. 

You’re in the process of biting back tears when Emily replaces Reid’s seat directly across from you. You tuck your feet up on the seat and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to take up less space, or better yet, disappear altogether. 

For a moment, neither one of you speaks.  

After a few seconds, Emily sighs. “How’s your head?” she asks, breaking the silence.  

“It’s fine,” you mumble. That’s a plain lie. Your head throbs. But it’s nothing compared to the ache inside your chest.    

“You were out of line.” Emily states calmly.     

“I know,” you whisper, refusing to meet her gaze. 

“I gave you a direct order–”

“I know,” you repeat. 

“When I give you an order, I need to be able to trust that you’re going to follow it. If this team doesn’t have trust, this team doesn’t have anything.”

You nod, your cheeks flushing hot. She’s putting you on the spot, and speaking loud enough for the entire jet to hear. You deserve it though, you know you did. 

Emily lets out a sigh, her tone suddenly softening and her voice growing quiet.  “What were you thinking?” 

You bite your lip harshly, fighting to hold back the sob boiling in your chest. You wipe your cheeks feverishly before replying. “I was thinking better me than Spencer,” you whisper. “I’m replaceable. He’s not.”

Emily shakes her head.  “You are important to this team.”

You stare down at your lap, unable to truly hear the words Emily was saying. 

But she reaches across the gap and gathers your hands in hers. “Listen to me,” she says sternly. You finally gather up enough courage to look up. “You are important to this team.”  She repeats the words slower and enunciates them more. 

You slowly nod, letting them seep into your skin. You aren’t sure if you believed her, but it’s a start. 

“Okay,” you say. Slowly, you pull your hands away.  

“Do you want to tell me what else is bothering you?” she asks gently. 

You bite your lip harder. You aren’t sure if you can trust yourself to speak without crying.  

“I did it for him,” you finally say. “Because I wanted to keep him safe. But now he’s so angry at me.”

Emily scoffs at your statement, making you narrow your eyebrows in confusion at her.  

“Yeah, right,” she says, amusement dancing in her words. 

“He won’t even look at me,” you say quietly. “I mean– I get why you’re mad at me,” you admit. “I disobeyed your orders, I broke protocol– you could’ve gotten in trouble if anything had happened. But I don’t understand why he is too,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “I was just trying to do the right thing… And now he hates me for it.”

Emily shakes her head. “I may not know much, but what I do know is that Spencer Reid isn’t capable of hating you.”

…

Reid hurries off the jet before you’re able to talk to him, which is what you’d been planning since taking off in Seattle. You groan and wonder if maybe you should just give him space. Clearly that’s what he wants.  

But, when you’re back inside the BAU, cleaning out your desk. Just as you’re about to go home, you look up and see him in the briefing room. Through the glass, Spencer’s thin frame can be seen cleaning up some case files that were left on the table. His back is to you and suddenly, the idea of cornering him in there entered your mind. He has to hear you out, he has to understand why you did what you did.  

Before you can chicken out or change your mind, you hurry upstairs and hoist open the glass doors to the room. Spencer turns around, your sudden entrance jumping him. His face actually looks angrier when he realizes it’s you entering his space. 

“Spencer–” you say, your voice already cracking. You aren’t sure how you’re going to do this. 

“What?” he snaps back harshly, the first words he’s spoken to you since the event. His eyes are sunken and tired, his hair disheveled and messy– still you don’t think you’d ever seen someone so beautiful in your entire life.  

“What did I do?” you plead. 

“Are you kidding me?” he says in disbelief.  

“I just– I was trying to do the right thing,” you explain. 

But Reid cuts you off. “You completely disobeyed Emily’s orders,” he takes a step closer to you.  “You were reckless and selfish and stupid and–”

Your eyes widen. “Selfish?” 

“Yes, selfish!” he bellows, his hands raising in frustration. “You broke protocol. And willingly put yourself into the arms of an Unsub, just so that you could play the hero!”

“I was not trying to be a hero!” you start to raise your own voice in defense. 

But Spencer shakes his head. “Then why’d you do it?”

By now, you’re biting your lip so hard you can taste blood. The anger and frustration you’re feeling towards Spencer left a bad taste in your mouth. Why can’t he understand, why can’t you make him understand?

Did you have to spell it out?

“I did it because I couldn’t stand the idea of something bad happening to my team,” your voice is low. “Even if that meant something bad had to happen to me.”

Spencer stands still, his gaze never softening. After a few moments you speak again. “It worked, didn’t it? I don’t get why you’re so upset–”

In a rushed tone, he blurts out, “I’m upset because you put yourself in danger! I could have lost you!”

Spencer’s words take you back. And you find yourself speechless. Your face immediately softens as you try to absorb what he said, but you’re exhausted and concussed and honestly, don’t trust your own judgment at the moment. 

All you can manage to mutter out is a soft, “Oh.”

Spencer’s anger seems to slowly be melting into just plain sorrow. It hurts to see him looking like he’s in pain. 

“Why would you sacrifice yourself like that?” he asks, his voice is gentler now. 

“Because,” you whisper. It seems like you do have to spell it out for him. “Because that seemed more bearable than the idea of anything happening to you.” The words spilled out of you uncontrollably. You've kept your feelings a secret from Reid for so long, you’re afraid what would happen if you finally revealed them. “The truth is… I’m kind of in love with you. And I couldn’t live with myself if anything ever happened to you.”

At that, Spencer's mouth fell open slightly, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  

He takes another step forward, and in that moment, for the second time that evening, you wish you could disappear, just dissolve into nothingness, out of sight. You’re feeling so vulnerable, so exposed, you wish you could take the words back– just suck them right back into your mouth and keep them there, a secret forever. 

But Spencer speaks softly, interrupting your thoughts. “What?”

You shake your head. “Don’t make me say it again–”

“I love you too.”

You hear it– but you don’t believe it. Because it can’t be true. 

“Please,” you whisper, wondering if this was just some cruel joke. There is no way Spencer could love you back. “Don’t mess with me. I can’t take it, not from you.” 

Reid shakes his head. “I swear to you, I would never joke about something like this.” 

“Don’t–”

He takes another step forward and reaches his hand out, touching your cheek softly. His fingers graze your jaw line. “I am in love with you, and I have been for quite some time. Pretty much since the first day I met you. That’s why I was so angry today– imagine if I’d done that to you– taken your place in that house– forced you to leave me with that monster.”

Just the thought made your blood start to boil. The idea of Spencer actually loving you back was just over the horizon– the thought that maybe it’s true was within reach. 

You bite your lip nervously, the feeling of Reid’s thumb gliding across your skin sends shivers down your spine. “I don’t know if I can believe you,” you whisper. 

“Then I’ll just keep telling you,” Spencer says softly. “Until you do.”

[lovifie]

Price and his lovely caddy girl. 🏌🏻‍♂️

Smut | 896 words | Back to masterlist

Every time that Price has free time, he plays golf. 

He picked up the sports a while back, when during rehabilitation after a special shitty injury his doctor recommended light walks. 

So he started to play. Sundays in the morning until noon, then a pint, then home. 

It was nothing more than doctor's orders at first. 

But then he met you. 

The little caddy girl with dangerously short skirts and a sharp tongue to get the juiciest tips. 

That's what he thought it was at first, that you were just doing his job. 

He felt perverted on the way he would look at your young body, how his eyes would lay on your pink lips when you bite your nail. How he wished to slide his-

“Mr. Price.” Your sweet voice draws him out of his trance.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asks in a beat, seeing how your face lightens at the nicknames. 

“It's your turn.” You say, pointing with your head to the ball. “Which club?”

“Whichever you think is best.” He says, handing you the one he had on his hand from the last hit. 

“Hmm… letting me choose, Mr. Price? What a privilege!” You exclaim, walking the couple of steps back to the cart. Leaning over the seat to pick the club.

And Price's shameless eyes roam the back of your legs all the way up to your cheeks spiking from the skirt.

“How about this one?” You say, pulling it from the bag and handing it to him. “I'm sure you'll get it in… the ball, I mean.”

He shakes his head, taking the club and getting in position. Slightly swinging his hips as he gets the motion, hitting the ball swiftly but too soft to actually reach the hole. 

“Aw, Mr. Price… I expected better aim from the military…” You say, a teasing pout on your face as you look up at him, using your hand to cover your eyes from the sun. 

“My aim is perfect, mind you, little minx.” He says, walking to the cart to grab a water bottle. 

You skip after him, a mischievous chuckle leaving your mouth. “You call that ‘good aim’? I’m sorry for your lovers, Mr. Price.”

“Oh, shut up!” Price exclaims, making you laugh again. “All my ‘lovers’ are perfectly happy with my aim.”

You hummed, satisfied with the raise you got out of him. “I bet they are.”

Price scoffs, looking at you; checking your face for any joke hidden in your features. 

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

“Maybe I do”

And maybe Price thought he was perverted, but if you are just as filthy as him… what's the damage?

That's how you found the two of you hiding in the maintenance closet back at the resort, with you squatting down and with Price rolling his cock deep into your mouth.

“Fuck… just like that, sweetheart… suck on it like the good girl you are, fuck!” He lets his head drop back, his hands keeping your head in place as he slowly slides his cock deeper and deeper, hitting the back of your throat with ease. The lewd noise filling the small space. “I bet you are fucking soaked, aren't ya? Hm? Play with your little cunt, love, let me hear how fucking wet you are…”

You move your hand under your skirt, pulling it up and sliding your hand inside your underwear. And the moment you peel your lips apart, the sound of your juices gets to Price's ear, urging him to fuck your throat faster. 

“Just like that, darling… fuck your pretty little cunt while I fuck your mouth… such a good girl, letting me do what I please with you… Look at you… so fucking pretty…” You look at his eyes, seeing the hungry stare on his face, making you clench around your own fingers. You feel his thick digits dig into your skull, making you wish so badly that it was his fingers inside of you.

“C’mon, pretty girl… make yourself cum… let me feel you moan around my dick, yeah, just like that… such a good fucking girl.” His thrust emphasises every word, making your eyes tear as your spit rolls down your chin. 

And it's the way he is talking you through it, how he slows down his pace to keep himself from cumming, making sure you do first, making sure you follow his orders. But he still holds your head so dearly, his thumbs caressing your head as if his dick wasn't bruising the back of your throat. 

But it's the promise of what will come after this, after today, that has you spilling over the edge, soaking your hand and underwear, and your throat clenching around his lengths. 

He cums so deep into your throat that you only manage to get the taste on his way out, making sure to clean his shaft sucking him in just for a second making him hiss. You let it go with a sonorous pop, and sit back on your feet taking your hand out. 

He stands in front of you, an intimidating 6ft man, wide and strong, looking down at you as you kneel between his feet. Your chin wet from the spit of sucking him off and the little mischievous smile still on your face. 

“I think I just developed a new kind of appreciation for golf."

[hanniebaeee]

My Demon

Incubus! Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: some smut (not very detailed), shameless flirting, some threats

Genre: romantic comedy, fluff, very suggestive MDNI

Summary: You stumble into a summoning ritual by mistake and have a gorgeous demon bound to you. Life with him feels like living with a very clingy and horny boyfriend, and it's the best thing in your life.

It was supposed to be a normal night. Well, it did start normal as you left your apartment for one of your usual late-night walks. The cool autumn air feels good on your skin, and since its already close to midnight, it is silent, and peaceful.

But as you walk deeper into the park, you spot a strange flickering. Curiosity piqued (your bad), you wander towards the glowing circle on the ground, surrounded by candles.

This was your cue to turn and run. Because this is definitely not normal. But fate had other plans for you, because why else would you be stumbling into that godforsaken circle? You're clumsy, yes, but this?

The moment your foot smudges part of the circle, and the air around you crackles with unnatural energy. You're up on your feet quickly, but before you can bolt, there is a loud ‘whoosh’. It's like something is burning and there's so much smoke.

And as the smoke clears, standing in front of you is a tall, incredibly attractive man.

You blink, wide-eyed - his eyes glow a deep red and a dark shadow that looks so much like wings, stretches out from his back. And he is shirtless.

A devilish smirk spreads across his lips as his gaze locks on you.

“Uh…” You take a step back, heart racing. “What's happening?”

His grin widens as he says, “Finally, someone strong enough to summon me.”

Summon him?

Oh, no. No, no, no. This isn’t happening. You point at yourself in disbelief.

“Me? Summon you? Oh no, it's not like that! I didn’t mean to -”

But before you can finish the sentence, he disappears in a flash and reappears inches from your face.

“Oh, darling, it’s too late now.” He drawls, and his breath ghosts over your skin, making every nerve ending in your body tingle. “We’re bound.”

“I'm sorry, WHAT?!” You are completely aghast. “Bound?”

He raises an eyebrow, giving you a once-over.

“Yes, bonded, tied together… inextricably. And I’ve waited centuries for someone like you.” He looks around lazily, his eyes still glowing red.

You freeze, and your mind struggles to process what's happening. “Centuries?”

He tilts his head as he studies you, and grins.

“You’re cute.” he states.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, shaking your head.

“Oh, I’m very serious.” He leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “I’m your demon now, baby. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

You step back instinctively, stumbling over your own feet.

“Is this a prank?” You ask, though you know it's not. “Who are you?! What do you want?”

His smirk softens into something a little more… fond?

“I'm Hyunjin.” He says with a shrug. “Don’t worry, sweet thing. You're in good hands now. I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of!” you snap, looking around frantically.

He sighs dramatically, crossing his arms.

“But you do. I mean, look at you! Wandering into rituals, disrupting ancient magic. You need someone to protect you.” He says. “Or maybe you did this on purpose because you know what I am…”

Your face flamed. "What, No!"

“Liar,” Hyunjin teases, leaning forward with the air of someone who knows exactly how devastatingly attractive he is. “Don’t pretend you don’t want me. I know desire when I see it.”

You clench your fists. “I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

He steps closer, towering over you.

“Too bad. I’m not going anywhere. And, trust me…” His gaze rakes over you, shamelessly. “You’ll be begging for me soon enough.

Hyunjin wasn’t kidding about not leaving. He is everywhere. Always lurking in the background. Watching. Waiting.

He is unbearably needy. Not just for your attention, but for other things as well.

“Y/N!” His voice rang out from the kitchen, where he has been rummaging through the cabinets for some time now. “Why do you not have any chocolate?”

You roll your eyes as you lean against the doorframe.

“You’re a demon, Hyunjin. Since when do demons eat chocolate?”

Hyunjin appears in front of you in a heartbeat, crossing his arms and looking dramatically offended. “Since forever! I demand you buy some right now. Or else…”

You sigh, too tired to even question what “or else” means anymore. He always threatens to do something terrible, like hide your phone, or turn your hair green, but never actually gets to it.

“You are the worst demon ever,” you mutter under your breath, as you walk towards your bedroom.

“I heard that!” he calls out. “I could be terrifying, you know. I could torment your soul, haunt your dreams…”

“Uh huh.”

“...or,” he purrs, now standing in front of you again, his voice dropping, “I could just give you what you really want.”

You glare at him, your face heating up again. “Hyunjin!”

But he only grins, following you.

“You can’t resist me forever,” he says, his voice silky smooth. “I’m in your head. You know you want me.”

You hate to admit it, but the more time you spend with him, the harder it is to resist. He is annoying, and way too clingy for someone claiming to be a dangerous demon, an incubus. And when he wasn’t being infuriating, he was actually kind of… sweet?

You get into bed, closing your eyes and shutting out his voice, only to feel the mattress dip beside you. You open your eyes to find Hyunjin lounging next to you, propped up on one elbow, looking way too pleased with himself.

“Hyunjin!” you whine. “I told you, you can't -"

“Yes, I can,” he interrupts with a playful smirk. “I won't do anything. I just want to be close to you.”

“You’re literally suffocating me.” You groan.

He pouts and says, “But I need you. I'm bound to you.”

And that’s when it hits you. Despite all the flirting and the constant neediness, Hyunjin has never tried to do anything. Like never.

You sigh, turning toward him.

“Fine. Just… stay on your side of the bed.” you say, putting a pillow between the two of you.

Hyunjin’s face lights up as he says,“My side? So you are sharing with me now?”

He scoots closer, vibrating with excitement.

“Not what I meant!” you say, pushing the pillow towards him.

Hyunjin grins as he hugs the pillow and gives you a lovesick look.

“Good night, darling. Sweet dreams.”

The next morning, you get into the shower, hoping to start your day fresh and early. You're going out with your friends, and you're excited for it. The second the warm water hits your skin, you sigh in relief, letting the heat loosen your muscles. Just as you close your eyes-

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

You scream, the sound echoing off the tile as you slip in the shower, barely catching yourself as you fall. Before you can even process what's happening, Hyunjin's arm snakes around your waist, steadying you as you grab onto the shower curtain for dear life.

“Seriously?!” you yelp, heart pounding in your chest. “Hyunjin?”

He grins, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement as he pulls you upright.

“You’re so dramatic, you know that?” he says, his eyes taking in your very naked form.

“Oh my GOD!” You cry, clutching the shower curtain and trying to cover yourself. “What the fuck are you even doing in here?!”

Hyunjin gives you a lazy smile, like he didn’t just scare the life out of you and appeared naked in your shower.

“Just wanted to say good morning,” Hyunjin says calmly.

“In the shower?” you sputter, tugging the shower curtain around you more tightly, to preserve your modesty. “Hyunjin! What the hell!”

He watches you with far too much amusement, his eyes darkening.

“You say that, but I know what you're thinking.” he teases, as you glare at him, trying to hold onto whatever shred of dignity you have left as the water cascaded over both of you.

You purse your lips, holding your head high, as his gaze roams over you, and he had the audacity to lick his lips, completely unfazed by your frustration.

“You like this,” he says with a grin. “You know I can read your thoughts right?”

You stare in disbelief, a string of curse words flying out of your mouth as you try to push past him.

“Goddamn demon - so fucking rude!”

Hyunjin chuckles, clearly enjoying your meltdown.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth this morning. You know, I can think of a few ways to put that mouth to better use.”

Your eyes widen, and just as you open your mouth to give him a piece of your mind, he grabs you, pulling you close - shower curtain and all. He's so smooth as he captures your lips with his, silencing your tirade.

You freeze for a split second, but then his kiss deepens, his tongue slipping into your mouth. And as much as you want to stay mad at him, your body melts into his without hesitation.

By the time he pulls back, you are breathless, your mind a complete mess. Hyunjin stares down at you, smirking, as he whispers, “Feel better?”

You blink up at him, still clinging to the shower curtain like it is your last defense. “You’re unbelievable.”

He comes closer again, but you shove him lightly, your face heating up as you try to recover some semblance of control.

Hyunjin steps out of the shower like he didn’t have a care in the world, while you hurry to finish rinsing off, cursing under your breath the entire time. And when you come out of the shower, your only armor is a fluffy towel wrapped around you.

Hyunjin watches you with a barely-contained smirk as you mutter to yourself about how you were going to kill him, if demons can even die.

Hyunjin laughed, his eyes sparkling. You clutch your towel tighter as you rummage your closet for something to wear to your outing with your friends.

"I'm so late, I don't have time for this-”

“You’re the one who’s late. I’m just here to help.” Hyunjin says, his hands secure on your hips as you bend to pick up a sweater.

“You’re not helping,” you hiss, grabbing your clothes and trying to sidestep him. Your cheeks still burn thinking of the fact that he had seen you completely naked not even ten minutes ago.

Hyunjin’s eyes follow your every move, and you feel the heat of his gaze even as you try to ignore him.

‘I don't understand why you need to go in the first place. You have me. We can go out,” Hyunjin says, trying to distract you as you try to push him out of the room. “Stop doing that! Nothing I haven't seen before!”

“Hyunjin, I swear to God-”

Hyunjin pouts and you can hear him having a tantrum outside your bedroom door as you dress up. He doesn't understand why you need anyone else when you have him. And it's exhausting to explain this to a demon. So you give him a kiss on his cheek and tell him to stay home before you leave.

But of course, he didn’t listen.

As you walk through the quiet streets, on your way back home, you aren’t surprised when, out of nowhere, Hyunjin appears by your side, looking as smug as ever.

“Hyunjin,” you groan, not even glancing at him. “We talked about this!”

“But baby, I missed you!” His voice is low, as he leans closer, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “You know I can't help it.”

You sigh, and choose not to say anything because you know it won't do you any good. As you cut through a dark alley, a shortcut to your apartment, you feel Hyunjin’s fingers intertwine with yours. And you know exactly where this is going.

“So, where were we?” he murmurs, stepping in front of you, forcing you to stop. “I think it’s about time I -”

Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of footsteps approaching from behind made you freeze.

“Hey!” a gruff voice calls out. You turn to see a man in a mask, holding a knife. The guy waves the weapon in the air, clearly not as confident as he wanted to seem. “Hand over your stuff.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

You sigh, your hand instinctively going to your bag, not because you are going to hand it over - you already know how this is going to play out. You glance at Hyunjin, who is glaring at the guy like he is a fly that needs swatting.

Hyunjin leans toward you, voice dangerously low. “Do you want me to handle this? I can end him in seconds if you just say the word.”

You shoot him a look. “Stop.”

“I mean it,” Hyunjin purrs, ignoring your warning. “It’ll be quick. He’ll never know what hit him. Just say yes.”

"I said no!'

"What about my wings? I can just stretch them out-"

"Babe, not the wings!" You argue, before you turn back to the man, raising a hand.

“Look, you really don’t want to do this. Just… walk away. No one has to get hurt.” Well, you tried, at least.

The masked man’s eyes flick between you and Hyunjin, clearly confused. “Are you two serious right now? I’ve got a weapon here!”

“I could snap his neck in a flash. You know that, right?” Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Hyunjin, please. You don’t need to snap anyone’s neck tonight.” you scold.

“Oh, come on!” he whines. “Just let me do it! It'll be fun!”

The guy, clearly offended by how casual this conversation is, raises his knife higher. “I’m standing right here! I will -”

And that is his first mistake.

“Oh, pretty boy thinks he’s tough?” the man sneers at Hyunjin.

You flinch. Oh no.

The second the words leave the man’s mouth, Hyunjin’s expression shifts from playful to lethal. Before you could react, Hyunjin surges forward, and grabs the man by the neck, lifting him clean off the ground like he weighs nothing.

The man’s knife clatters to the ground as his legs kick helplessly in the air.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Hyunjin coos, his voice honey-sweet and deadly all at once and his long fingers wrapped snugly around the man’s throat. “But no one threatens my girlfriend.”

“Hyunjin!” you gasp, stepping forward and trying to grab his arm. “Put him down. RIGHT NOW.”

The demon pouts, his grip loosening just a fraction as he looks at you with those irresistible puppy eyes. “But I was just starting to have fun…”

“Hyunjin,” you warn.

The guy is struggling, and while you are kind of impressed (okay, maybe a little turned on), this needs to stop.

“Fine,” Hyunjin grumbles, dropping the man to the ground. He lands with a thud, gasping for air. And without a word, he scurries away, clutching his throat.

You couldn’t help it as you burst out laughing. Hyunjin watches you, one brow raised, his lips quirking up into a knowing smirk. “What?”

You shake your head, still chuckling.

“Let’s just get home. Fast.” you say, taking his hand and walking.

“Oh? Why the rush?” He asks, letting you lead the way.

Your pulse quickens, and you know he can sense it. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I don’t need to get cocky. I am cocky.” He declares.

“Shut up.” you say, trying to maintain your composure.

The moment you get through the front door, Hyunjin wastes no time. He presses you up against the door, caging you in with his arms, his eyes smoldering, burning red. His lips hover just above yours, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.

“Ready to give in, baby?” He asks.

You smirk, leaning up to meet his gaze, your noses brushing ever so slightly. You tilt your head, barely grazing his lips with yours.

Hyunjin closes the gap, his lips crashing into yours. His kiss is so hot, and intoxicating, leaving no doubt that he wanted you.

His hands wander down your waist, his fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt, his lips never leaving yours. You both stumble into the living room. But as he moves to push you toward the couch, you trip over a footstool, and the two of you topple onto the couch.

“Hyunjin!” you yelp, half-laughing, half-annoyed as you landed awkwardly with him on top of you. "Can you please be be a little-”

“Graceful? No,” he teases, grinning down at you as if he is exactly where he wants to be. “I’m a demon, not a ballerina.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You can’t help but laugh.

Hyunjin dips his head to kiss your neck, his lips leaving soft open mouthed kisses along your skin.

His teeth graze a sensitive spot just below your ear, and your breath hitches.

Just as things start heating up again, Hyunjin shifts slightly, and slams his knee into the coffee table.

“OWW!” he yells, pulling away from you and clutching his knee, his expression twisting in pain.

You stifle a laugh, biting your lip to stop yourself. “Are you okay?”

“No!” he groans, glaring at the table like it had personally insulted him.

You can’t hold back anymore and finally burst out laughing, covering your mouth as Hyunjin shoots you a look that is somewhere between murderous and embarrassed.

“This isn’t funny!” he whines. “I’m trying to seduce you, but I’m getting attacked by your furniture.”

“Aww baby, you don't have to seduce me,” you tease, sitting up and giving his knee a playful nudge.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you. “You think this is hilarious, don’t you?”

You bite back a grin. “Just a little.”

It is late, and the moonlight spills through the blinds, casting soft, silver glow across the room. You are fast asleep under your blankets, but a certain restless incubus couldn’t seem to settle.

Hyunjin lay beside you, staring up at the ceiling, his jaw clenched tight. His body is tense, his fingers gripping the sheets so hard. He turns to glance at you, looking so innocent in sleep. So utterly tempting.

He's an incubus for fucks sake! He's supposed to take advantage of you in your sleep, and corrupt your body and soul or whatever. At least that's what his type is to do.

His incubus nature is raging tonight, making his skin burn and his muscles tense. Every fiber of him wants to touch you, to give in to the desire.

You stirred in your sleep, rolling over onto your side, facing him now. Hyunjin squeezes his eyes shut. He can't do this. He can't do this. He's a demon!

And he is so fucking hard, it hurts.

You stirred again, this time blinking sleepily, your eyes adjusting to the dim light.

"Hyunjin?" you whisper, voice groggy with sleep.

His head snaps toward you, and he looks away quickly.

You frown, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you blink the sleep from your eyes. "Are you okay?"

Hyunjin let out a breathy laugh.

"Just turn around and go to sleep, ok?” He says, turning away from you.

You touch his arm and his body is burning hot.

"You should’ve woken me," you say gently, brushing a strand of his hair from his forehead, as you lean over him.

He stiffens and shakes his head furiously.

“I'm fine. Y/N, don't do this, tonight. I don't want to hurt you.” He says, trying to put some distance between you two.

"You look like you're about to explode."

"I’m great at self-control. Held on this long, didn't I?"

You sigh softly, brushing your fingers down his chest in a soothing gesture. "You don’t have to."

"If I don’t, I’m gonna jump you, babe, and I’m trying to be... respectful or whatever."

"Hyunjin..." you whisper, “I said you don't have to hold back.”

His eyes are wide as he looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe what he is hearing.

"Y/N, don't play with me right now," he growls, his voice trembling.

You shrug and move off him, “I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

That was all it took.

His restraint snaps like a rubber band stretched too far, and he is on you, capturing your lips in a kiss so deep, you couldn't breathe. His hands are on your hips, pressing you against him.

He is desperate - he has been holding himself back for too long. You moan softly into the kiss, your fingers clutching at his arms tightly as he grinds against you.

Hyunjin’s eyes glow red, his pupils blown wide, as he continues to rub himself against you, growling as waves of pleasure hit both of you.

“Can I? Please, can I? I can't-” Hyunjin is a complete mess as he tries to convince you to let him have you.

“Baby, you can.” You say, and Hyunjin lets out a groan, and you know if he wasn't a demon, he'll be crying right now.

He does a quick job of pulling your clothes off, and he asks you again if you are sure. And you are. But you're not ready for how LOUD he is.

“Hyunjin! I'm gonna get a noise complaint if you're gonna be so fucking loud every time!” You scold as he thrusts into you.

Your eyes roll back in pleasure, but you really like your apartment and want to keep it. Hyunjin is surprised when you slap a hand against his mouth.

“Baby, please, I love you, but-” you say as you fight an urge to cry out at how good he feels.

“You love me?” he asks, slowing down.

“What?”

“What?”

“Hyu-”

“You love me!”

Now that your ridiculously hot, and maddeningly irresistible demon knows the truth, there's no turning back.

[sun-kissy]

Hi, i wanted to request a james potter x reader thingy :))

So the idea is that james and reader broke up during hogwarts/directly after because they had the children talk, james really wants to be a father but reader is terrified of pregnancy so they break up. But over the years the reader keeps yearning for james and eventually they meet again when james and lily are together and have baby harry and its just really angsty 😭😭

Hope all of this makes sense i thought of this while listening to a song lyric

thank you for the request babe i love how your brain works <3 this is quite angsty so hopefully you like it! and now i’m curious to know what song 👀

also here’s some shameless promotion for @astonishment’s series with the same name, it’s deliciously tragic (☹️☹️☹️) and everyone should check it out!!

in another life | j.p.

“Calm down, babe,” Sirius mutters as you walk in step, looping his arm through yours.

You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously, sighing as you glance over at him. “It’s not that easy, Siri. I’m seeing him after what — four years? I can’t just calm down!”

He rolls his eyes, reaching towards you and thumbing at your lip to save it from your torment. “You’re seeing me after four years.”

You turn to Sirius, and he huffs out a laugh at your deadpan expression. “Well, you never asked me to marry you.”

Sirius wiggles his eyebrows, his lips curving up into a grin. “Marry me?”

“Fuck off, Black.”

James and Lily Potter were holding a meet-up of sorts, and had invited most people in your year at Hogwarts. You were hesitant to go, given your history with James, but Sirius insisted you tag along. You knew he, Remus, and Peter had stayed in touch with James. Rightfully, you ought to have too. But neither of you tried to; maybe you both knew it was better that way.

Sirius simpers, coming to a halt in front of the large black gates of the mansion. He reaches forward and begins to twist the lock, and you instinctively reach over and grab his hand to stop him. He turns to you, confusion twisting his features. “What are you — oh. Oh, sweetheart.”

He softens when he sees the expression on your face. You’re biting your cuticles, and the anxiety in your features is palpable. Sirius sighs and firmly pulls your hand away from your mouth, intertwining your fingers together. “It’s gonna be okay. Just be cordial with him. There’s no bad blood, right?”

“Right,” you mutter, albeit uncertainly.

“But, um…” he sighs, dropping your hand to rake his fingers through his hair. “There’s something I should’ve told you before. But I didn’t wanna freak you out.”

“What?”

The apprehension in your tone causes Sirius to wince. “James and Lily, they… they’ve got a baby.”

There’s a beat of loud silence as the fact sinks in, a mount of uncertainty and hurt settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh.”

You’re trying not to show it, but the heartbreak on your face is painfully obvious. Sirius pouts, moving to take your hand again. “Babe, I’m sorry. I should’ve –”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the gates swinging open to reveal a beaming James Potter.

“Pads,” he grins immediately, eyes locking on Sirius as he moves towards him and swoops him into a quick hug.

You take the moment to look James over. He looked exactly like you remembered — messy curls, toned biceps, that movie-star grin. Yet something felt different, in the way he pulled Sirius into a hug without all the raucous fervour he would’ve at 16, how he held him so gently at arm’s length while talking to him. He’d softened, you realised, from the responsibilities of fatherhood and being a husband.

They pull apart a moment later, and his gaze drifts to you. His smile loses a bit of its sunshine, not softening but not quite dimming either. “Y/n, hey.”

There’s a moment of hesitation as he looks at you, but then he seems to decide upon giving you a hug too.

“Hi,” you mutter as he shortens the distance between you, needling his arms under yours to press them to your back. You embrace him in return, and a sudden pang of hurt shoots through your heart at the familiarity of the action.

Perhaps he was remembering it too, from the way he tightened his grip. Both of you were heavy on physical touch, and it was undeniably the best part of your relationship back in Hogwarts — how he’d always have a hand wrapped around your waist, how you’d wake up to cuddles and hugs every morning. You didn’t exactly have anyone to hug anymore, living alone.

So you convince yourself that the reason you hold on to James for slightly longer than necessary was because you craved human touch, not because of… anything else.

Finally, James pulls away, his arms dropping to his sides as he gives you a small smile. You plaster one onto your face too, for his sake. “So,” he starts as he turns around, beginning to lead you and Sirius into the mansion, “how’ve you been, Y/n?”

You can feel Sirius’ gaze burning holes into the side of your head, but choose to ignore him. “I’ve been great, yeah. You?”

James nods. “That’s cool. Yeah, I’ve been good too. Things have been fun, but kind of busy; you know, with work and Lily and the baby…” He seems to realise what he’s said, and clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, of course. The baby.

Sirius is beside you in an instant, arching his eyebrows and nudging your elbow to respond.

“Oh, um… congrats on the baby, by the way.”

James turns around to face you as you walk, and you give him a grin to prove that you’re being genuine — to show him that it didn’t feel like there was a knife being twisted in your gut every time the word baby was brought up.

His eyes soften, and you know he can tell how you’re feeling. But he gives you a grateful smile, and says no more as the three of you come to a stop in front of the house.

“By the way,” James mutters as he pushes the door open, “you guys are like, an hour early. You’re the only ones here.”

You immediately turn around to glower at Sirius for subjecting you to more torture than necessary by bringing you early. But he all but smirks as he follows you in.

Your eyes coast around the mansion, taking it all in. It’s decorated in a minimalist aesthetic, white couches and brown rugs. It was pretty, that was for sure; but you couldn’t help but think how different it was from James’ place in the dorm — posters and stickers all over the walls, boisterously red curtains and LED lights. It used to be so full of life.

Honestly, you might’ve guessed an old couple lived here, if not for the small signs of their life as a family — the pacifier on the dining table, a cradle at the far end of the living room, and the heart-shaped photo frames lining the walls.

James watches you, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips. “You like it?”

He knows you wouldn’t like it, it’s everything you aren’t. Your dorm had been just like his; trying to fit as many vinyls and posters onto that small space next to your bed as possible. There would be fairy lights in every corner and succulents on the nightstand, a dreamcatcher which he’d gifted you hanging right above your bed. You were messy, as a person, and with your love too. You thought he was messy as well; but apparently he’d gotten his shit together already.

“Yeah, it’s simple. Pretty.”

“Honey —“ Lily bustles out the kitchen, a small gasp escaping her lips as she sees you and Sirius. She’s holding a ladle in one hand, and has her other arm wrapped around a baby perched on her waist.

You don’t register it when she kisses your cheek and hugs you, asks you how you’re doing and leads you to sit on the couch. Your gaze is locked on the baby, every second spent staring at him worsening the nauseous feeling at the back of your throat.

You must’ve asked for his name, because the word, “Harry,” registers in your head. This beautiful baby, with Lily’s deep green eyes and James’ luscious curls, was Harry.

Would you have named your baby Harry? Probably not, it was too generic. But it was too late now, to pick out names and choose a less boring aesthetic for a house together.

You had lost your chance back in seventh year, that night when you were laying on James’ bed, limbs tangled together as he raked his hands through your hair with all the love in the world. You’re gonna be my husband one day, you’d whispered, feeling so much affection for him you thought your heart would burst. Yeah, baby, he’d replied with a soft smile. We’re gonna live in a mansion, with our dogs and children and —

Children?

I don’t… I don’t want children. And that’s where it all started going downhill, that’s the moment James’ smile turned upside down and his hand dropped from your hair. It had turned into an argument, a screaming match — and eventually a reason to break up. James couldn't understand much you feared it, the pain of pregnancy and the exhaustion that came with motherhood. And some part of you knew that you weren’t blameless either — calling him awful things and accusing him of not loving you; though love was all he ever gave till the day you told him it was over.

The feeling of Sirius’ nails digging into your palm brings you back to the present, and you see him nodding absentmindedly as Lily rambles about how much trouble Harry’s been, and oh, she’s picked up a hobby of crocheting, and…

You flit your eyes to look at James sitting opposite you, gazing at you with his brows pinched in concern. Your emotions must’ve been obvious on your face, then. But he immediately looks away when Lily calls out to him, holding up Harry for him to carry.

You watch silently as James squeezes into the chair next to his wife, taking the small, lovely baby between his large, calloused hands. He smiles at Harry, looking at him though he was the most precious thing on earth. James’ fingers bunch Harry’s tiny shirt as he brings him close to his face, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead. Lily’s head lolls onto James’ shoulder as he shifts Harry into a comfortable lying position in his arms.

There you have it. The perfect family, with the gorgeous wife and the adorable baby and the man who could’ve been yours if you wanted.

It’s too much for you to take, and Sirius squeezes your hand as you start to shake. Harry coos, and you melt at how James’ face breaks into a sunny beam. He tilts his head to press a soft peck to his wife’s hair, and there’s so much love in that simple gesture that you feel like you could die.

You feel Sirius’ worried gaze on you, your hands trembling and your knee bobbing up and down. The taste of blood from how hard you’re nibbling on your lip is grounding; it brings you back to yourself, who you are, and not who you could’ve been.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly from beside you, but it doesn’t get lodged into your brain. The only thing you feel is your vision of the perfect family blurring, soft streams of regret rolling down your cheek. Sirius makes a small noise of pity from beside you, and James looks up instantly, eyes widening as they lock on you. Lily is fast asleep, baby Harry staring at you with his thumb stuck into his mouth.

“Y/n, you okay?” James asks gently, but you don’t reply, still looking at him with that distraught look on your face. You open your mouth, but you don’t seem to have the vocabulary to express the heartache you felt right that moment. It felt strangely like grief; like you were mourning for the version of yourself you never got to meet, for the version of James who didn’t have the chance to be yours.

James' mouth twists downwards in a frown as he stands up and steps closer towards you. It’s like an alarm is set off in your head, and you immediately jolt back to the present, sucking in a deep breath.

Your legs act of their own accord as you stand up, Sirius’s hand falling limp on the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. You gulp down the lump in your throat and fiercely brush the tears away, James coming to a halt in front of you. “Y/n, baby —“

“I’m not your baby.”

James slaps a hand to his mouth, eyes as wide as Harry’s now. “Fuck, no, it — it just came out. I didn’t mean to. Shit, you’re crying.”

“I’m okay,” you warble. James opens his mouth to retort but you don’t let him, knowing that the longer you spent here, the more the gaping hole in your chest would grow. You couldn’t bear it anymore, watching James with his wife and wishing it was you instead. The worst part was that it was all your fault, your stupidity and your rejection.

“I’m fine, really. I…I’m gonna go now, it was nice meeting you. Convey my love to Remus, Peter and the girls.” You pick up your bag, moving to the front door with a befuddled James tracking your movements.

“Y/n —“

“Bye, James,” you call out halfheartedly as you slip into your shoes. He comes to stand at the door, rocking Harry from side to side. He looks almost disappointed as you make to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, surprised. “It’s not your fault.”

James’ lips pursed together with guilt, seeming like he wants to say something as he opens and closes his mouth. He finally sighs, “It’s not your fault either.

It was startling, how he still knew just the right thing to say — he always had. The regret that had been clogging up your heart for years was drained out upon hearing that one sentence. James didn’t hold the utter failure of your relationship against you, and that was enough. If you couldn’t have his love, at least you had his forgiveness.

You give him a half smile and nod, turning around to leave. You’d go back to yours, more of a house than a home. But at least no one but yourself could hurt you there, there was no one to turn away and no hearts to break. No one to love.

“Hey.”

You spin back around to face the door, heart stopping upon seeing the moistness in his eyes. You hear the scratchiness in his throat as he sucks in a deep breath.

“James…”

“No, don’t — don’t say anything. I just wanted to tell you, um…” he defeatedly runs a hand through his hair and exhales shakily. “I hope we worked out, you know, in another life.”

That catches you off guard, your heart involuntarily squeezing in your chest. James looks almost embarrassed as he says it, but you see the vulnerability in his eyes. He was right — maybe there was some planet on which you were less of a coward, another world where he could put a ring on your finger. He’d been yours to lose in this life, perhaps he was yours to love in another.

You clear your throat, feeling nausea brimming in the pits of your gut. “Yeah, I… I hope so too.”

You spare yourself one last glance at him before turning towards the exit, praying he didn’t see the tears dribbling down your cheeks.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to trudge forward, before he can call out to you and break your heart all over again.

In a few long strides, you’re out the gates; out of James’ life again.

[multifandomme]

Caught

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha's absence makes you needier than usual.

Genre: Smut, (masturbation, fingering, praise, dom/sub undertones, getting caught, finger sucking, pretty vanilla), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 1.1k.

This piece is for day 12 of kinktober under the 'masturbation' prompt. This is a repost of a fic I wrote on ao3 in 2022.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

––--– ♡ –––--

––--– ♡ –––--

Wandering hands slipped beneath the bedsheets, the soft sound of rustling fabric bleeding out into the thickened silence. Natasha’s absence always incited a newfound level of desperation, but you hadn’t quite anticipated the sheer desperation that had claimed you. Initially, you had attempted to thwart the throbbing between your legs with distractions, a movie playing to nobody in the background as you fidgeted upon the mattress. Every extended attempt was obstructed by the wriggling of your fingers, a conscious mind of their own dragging them lower to pacify your urges.

Ordinarily, a punishment would follow such an overt act of disobedience, Natasha intent on being the only person who could induce such a pleasure. But her lack of presence was felt tenfold, a flitting tingle fast transforming into an uncomfortable pressure in the pit of your stomach that begged to be alleviated.

Deft movements saw your underwear yanked down to your ankles until you flicked them to the floor below, momentarily forsaken as your mind whirred with anticipation. Your fingers sought your pussy with avidity, unable to resist the temptation as you dared to trace your arousal with a sole digit, a shameless moan tearing from your throat. 

In the pitch darkness of the room, you felt at ease, the only semblance of light originating from the tiny ray that slivered in from the hallway outside. Soft breaths escaped your lips as you laved your clit with your arousal, your nipples hardening as the pleasure took a firm hold of you with no intent of letting go.

Liquid collected in abundance, only exacerbated by the touches that you had allowed yourself to undertake, proficient fingers probing at your entrance. The impulses were too strong to ever deny, a snaking finger daring to sneak inside of yourself as your back arched upwards from the bed, a warmth infiltrating the entirety of your body. Ablaze.

Electricity sparked with vigour, the motion of your finger inside of yourself finally providing some pacification as you basked in the feeling of being filled. You could only wish that Natasha was beside you, her soft coaxing words never too far away as she willed you into oblivion. The image of the redhead remained imprinted in your mind, her voice so familiar that you could almost hear it in its corporeal form as you reeled at the prospect. 

“Natasha, oh- fuck,” you hissed, mindlessly. 

“Naughty girl,” a voice erupted, startling you in place as you yanked your fingers away from your pussy in haste. “Someone really missed me, hm?”

Immediately, your eyes raised towards the door, a silhouette lurking over the threshold until the ghostly figure sauntered towards you. Even in the dimness, the smirk that Natasha donned could not be denied, practically entwined with her as she tugged the bedsheet away from you. Green orbs studied your indecency, her interest blatantly piqued as she honed in upon the glimmering arousal between your legs.

“So needy,” she remarked, her fingers inching in to trail over your throbbing flesh, a look of amusement claiming her features. “All you need to do is ask.”

Humiliation clouded you with intensity, a darkened blush materialising upon your cheeks and radiating heat. It was the first time that you had been caught in such a compromising position, rendered self-conscious beneath Natasha’s burning gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered, quietly as you began to clamber to a sitting position, quickly occluded by a strong hand that forced you backwards. “I tried to stop, but I couldn’t, I-”

“Ssssshhh,” Natasha hushed, a slender digit pressed rigidly against your lips and painting it with the arousal that Natasha had been priorly inspecting. “How about I finish that for you, my love?”

An uncontrolled groan fell from your lips in the knowledge that Natasha planned to alleviate your neediness as you took her finger into your mouth. Expertly, you coated her digit with saliva, your tongue swirling around until it glistened in wetness.

“Hmmm,” Natasha mused, retracting her finger from your mouth with a sadistic simper. “You’re more desperate than I thought.”

You nodded avidly in agreement, hoping to instil Natasha with a sense of urgency, your heartbeat pulsating agonisingly between your legs.

“Please,” you begged, enlisting the help of your most convincing pleading expression, the one you knew sent Natasha’s self-control spiralling. 

Natasha’s jaw flexed instantaneously as you bit back a victorious smile, knowing that your underhand tactics had succeeded. A response from her was unnecessary, her fingers manoeuvring to mirror the actions that you had exerted earlier, a ghosting touch landing upon your pussy. She hummed softly as she brushed against your arousal, two fingers sliding in without warning as she gnawed upon the full flesh of her lips. 

“So fucking tight, baby,” she growled, lowly, a carnal sound bursting from your own mouth in response to her remark. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Your hips jogged in accordance with her soft motions, gentle as she basked in the way your walls hugged her fingers so snugly. Desperation surged without respite, intent on pressing Natasha for a faster pace as you bucked aimlessly into her hand.

“Please,” you breathed, whorishly, all traces of embarrassment forsaken as your mind became fixated upon your carnal urge to come undone. “Fuck me harder.”

Natasha acknowledged your plea with a hum, a cocky smile plastered upon her face as she increased the pace. Of course, the woman turned the tables, a brutal force emerging as your breath fought to catch up, Natasha merely chuckling towards your strife. Your body shuddered as the redhead’s fingers jammed into you, methodic whines ripping themselves from you as you stared into her sparkling orbs.

“That’s it, baby,” Natasha coaxed, her voice delicate and in contention with the aggression conveyed in her movements. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, hm?”

Mindlessness denied any verbal response, your brain lacking coherence as you gazed up, dumbfounded by the pleasure that flooded you. Natasha peered downwards, a knowing simper glued to her lips as her eyes darkened with lust, wholly consumed by you.

“Cum for me, baby,” she demanded, domineeringly, her teeth bared in impatience. “Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”

A calculated swipe across your clit had your body quaking below her, your pussy cinching Natasha’s digits with intent. You cried aloud, more so when she continued to slam into you, no heed paid towards the unbearable oversensitivity that you were faced with.

“Fuck, baby,” you panted, breathily, your hands outstretched in search of Natasha’s wrist in the hopes of stymying her motions. “Stop, I can’t take it.”

Natasha scoffed in amusement before prying her fingers out of you only to shove them into your gaping mouth. Instinctively, you suckled with zeal, your tongue flurrying as you recalled the familiar taste of yourself commencing its invasion.

“Next time,” Natasha spoke, her face merely inches from yours. “You wait for me. Do you understand?”

––--– ♡ –––--

––--– ♡ –––--

[miaountainmama]

capable

characters: jing yuan, fembodied!reader contains: pwp, shameless smut, gentle sex, lots of praise. he calls you beloved and bends you over his desk and also eats you out. also he's larger than you because he's like 6'3" so sorry if you're somehow his size. minors dni or i'll eat your bones

wc: 3829

a/n: FIRST HSR POST WOOOOO boothill is my man but i wrote this for my bf. he then told me jing yuan is talking to reader like a horse. everyone stone him

“The Cloud Knights are already stretched thin as they are, so I don’t think it would be wise to dispatch them for this.”

You stare unseeing at Yanqing as he reports before the stairs in front of the desk in the Seat of Divine Foresight. On a normal day, you were a gold star employee, the perfect picture of Jing Yuan’s assistant: attentive, well-mannered, and adept at many things. However, it’s impossible to focus on Yanqing from where you stand by the railing— impossible to focus on anything but the feeling of the General’s golden eyes resting upon your form. You feel yourself being picked apart by his gaze, and though you attempt to maintain a cool facade, leaning against one of the posts of the railing, you can feel your collar getting a little hot under the unwavering attention. You can feel his eyes traveling, alternating between your face and the plush of your thighs being squeezed by your shorts. It’s an exposing feeling… not that you mind.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, seems to have no problem paying attention to two things at once. He leans forward against his desk, his honeyed stare finally moving off of your body and back to the poor boy just doing his job. You try your best not to think about the way his hands flexed around the wooden surface, try your best not to think about how they’d feel holding you down instead. Your mouth slowly twists into a sly smirk at the idea as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I see. I suppose I will take care of this matter personally, as it seems my assistant looks a little… preoccupied at the moment. I am more than capable.”

Your eyes snap to his, losing their unfocused haze, and they narrow, a little embarrassed but not entirely displeased at being caught thinking about him. He’s already looking at you again, eyes half-lidded and glinting with mirth and unspoken hunger, and you match his expression.

“Oh… more than capable? Are we underestimating me now, General? I don’t take kindly to that, you know. Perhaps I’ll need you to show me just how… capable you can be,” you purr, wrapping your fingers around the railing and tilting your head forward to look at him through your lashes. His eyebrows raise minutely before he lets out a low rumble of a laugh from deep in his chest, looking pleased at the way you responded. He shifts forward as well, lips curling upwards, and he looks about ready to tease you right back before a voice cuts through the tension.

“Of course the General is capable. He’s the General, are you crazy?” Both of you look at Yanqing, completely oblivious to the mood in the room, and you resist the urge to sigh (and/or strangle him). Still, you take the interruption in stride. You can’t fault him for being just a boy.

“Seeing is believing, and I’m sure there’s a lot the General hasn’t shown me,” you say, not missing a beat. Yanqing looks about ready to interject again, ready to defend the General’s honor, but before he can, you hear the smooth lilt of Jing Yuan’s voice interrupt.

“It seems I haven’t been entirely open with my assistant. Yanqing, you’re free to go. I’ll work out the finer details with them. We’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need me here to-”

“Yes, Yanqing, I’m sure. You have the rest of the day to do as you wish. Please, leave us,” Jing Yuan says, eyes never leaving you, and Yanqing gives a short bow and a “yes, General” before following orders, softly shutting the door and leaving the two of you alone. The two of you don’t blink, staring into each other’s eyes as you hear his quick footsteps fading away.

The moment the echoes disappear, he’s on you.

He has one large hand on your thigh, the other pulling you close by the small of your back, and your eyes immediately flutter shut in triumph. Yes, this is what you’ve been thinking of, yearning for all day. Your hands are in his hair, tugging his face closer and capturing his lips in a heated kiss, thumb brushing against the mole on his cheekbone. He’s bent over, neck craning down to reach you, and he walks you back slowly to sit you on his desk. You barely notice the cool feeling of the wood against your thighs, too preoccupied with getting more, feeling more. You reach for one of the belts around his waist, wanting to waste no time, but are stopped by Jing Yuan grabbing your wrist.

“What’s the rush, beloved?” he asks in a low voice, the slightest hint of a laugh gracing his tone. He guides your hand back up to hold his face and hair again before tilting your chin up and to the side with a finger. 

Everything Jing Yuan does to you, he does slowly. Painfully slowly, at times. This was one of those times.

“General,” you whine as he goes for where your neck meets your jaw, pressing a long, lingering kiss there. Still, he remains unbothered, though he does lightly nip at the skin with his teeth.

“Jing Yuan. You know you can call me anything you like when we’re alone,” he corrects, soothing the new red mark with his tongue. Already, he’s leaving you breathless, and you nod, feeling the heat rushing through your body at the pleasurable sensation. It’s not enough, though, and you tell him as much, pulling him closer by the hips,

“Then, Jing Yuan,” you say. “Hurry up already.”

Another kiss to your neck, another gentle laugh. “I have a whole lifetime to do as I please with you. Besides, you haven't pleaded your case convincingly enough,” he says, though he does indulge you a little by unhooking the clasp around your collar. You whine again as he pushes the fabric to the side, now pressing his lips against the crook of your neck.

“Pleaded my case? What, do you want me to beg you?” you ask, hands threading through his long white hair and tugging lightly, and you feel his lips curl into a lazy grin at the thought.

“Now that doesn’t sound so bad,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your thigh. His other hand wanders, caressing the curve of your waist, sliding upwards until it reaches the cutout in your shirt above your breasts. He moves his face from your neck as he slips his hand under the fabric, returning to kiss your lips as he cups a breast and teases a nipple with a finger. Your entire body jolts forward at the touch, back arching, and you let out a small noise into Jing Yuan’s lips as he kisses you. Again, you can feel his mouth curve into a slight smile at the action.

You’re incredibly needy by this point, heart racing, and you swear you’re probably going to have a wet spot through your shorts if he keeps going at this rate. Your core is aching for sensation, for sweet release.

“Jing Yuan,” you pant, pulling away from his kiss slightly. His eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze with his own golden eyes before he closes them again and pulls you back in, seeming just as unhurried as ever. You pull back a second time, more insistently this time.

“Jing Yuan, please,” you say, and you see something flash in his expression as his eyes open to look at you again. He reaches up to touch your face, and you realize you’ve found a sensitive spot— and you’ll exploit it as much as possible.

“Please,” you repeat, lacing your voice with as much need as possible, making sure to look directly into his eyes. On the outer rim of your vision you can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows once, something sparking through his face a second time. Once you drop a hand down to trail along his chest, he’s done for.

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” he says, looking pleased, and he maneuvers you to stand with his hands. You follow his movements without complaint, though your face does burn as his fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts and pull down. He motions for you to sit back on the desk, so you step out of your shorts and do so, feeling the cool surface of the wood against your bare body. You swear you can feel your quickened pulse between your legs as he nudges them open and spreads them slightly, and you make a softly embarrassed noise as it displays how wet you are for him to see. However, his eyes sparkle with delight, and his right hand drops down to lightly touch you. When his finger pulls away from your core, it’s shiny from slick.

“Oh… now that’s a sight to see. Mind if I take a closer look?” he murmurs lowly, and you nod, not sure what he means but willing to let him do anything to you at this point. You blink in surprise as he drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling in between your legs, and you resist the urge to close them around his head in embarrassment as he comes face to face with your heat. He reaches out to touch again, gently spreading you open with his thumb, and your breath catches at the feeling. You say nothing, opting to let him do as he pleases, and he switches to tracing the lines of your folds with his middle finger. He’s slow, careful with it, and you feel incredibly lewd as his finger gets coated with your wetness. He traces his finger down again, and with one motion sends you reeling as he sticks it inside you to the knuckle.

He looks up at you from below, taking in your face as you watch him, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you feel your walls clenching and unclenching around his finger to adjust to the feeling. He gives you a moment of brief reprieve before he’s gently pumping it in and out, finding your clit with a thumb then leaning in to latch his lips around it. You let out a strangled moan at the feeling as he sucks on it, languidly stroking his tongue across the bud, your hands flying to his hair to steady yourself as he eats you out. It feels humiliatingly good, every slow drag of his tongue around your clit and every measured thrust of his finger sending you further into ecstasy. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to muffle your sounds, but the moment you do so, Jing Yuan ceases in his actions, slowing to a stop and pulling away to look at you. 

“I don’t intend to hold anything back, so you shouldn’t either,” he says, coaxing you to lower your hand, and he hums in approval as you return it back to his hair. “Very good. Always so good for me.” 

He dives back in, sucking and swirling his tongue around, pumping his finger, and this time, you let your shaky moan of pleasure free. His hand tightens around your thigh when he hears it, going at you a little harder, and you respond in kind, tugging at the strands of his silky white hair. You’re so worked up that he’s getting you there embarrassingly fast— your walls begin to clench around his finger, and it doesn’t help when he slides a second one in, curled just right and hitting just the right places. His unhurried pace continues even as you suddenly jerk forward, a groan of his name leaving your lips as you release all over his fingers. Your head tilts back, mouth gasping and whimpering and making all sorts of wanton noises as your body twitches from the relentless stimulation. It’s not until your moans subdue somewhat that he pulls back, resting a cheek against your thigh and looking up at you with adoring eyes. You’re breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, though they twitch a bit when he removes his fingers from inside you. He wipes them on his pants, lightly caressing your inner thigh with the other hand. He presses a kiss to the skin there as you recover at least a little bit, though he doesn’t let you waste all the time he spent preparing you. After a few more seconds he’s smoothly climbing to his feet to tower over you again.

Jing Yuan grabs you by the hips, gently pulling you off the table. His grip is firm, and despite the slight weakness in your knees, he doesn’t let you fall.

“Careful, beloved. We can’t have you hurting yourself, now,” he says, still wearing that smug, lazy smile. You hum in acknowledgement, grabbing onto him to steady yourself, and he leans down to kiss you softly before turning you around so your back is to him. He pushes at the small of your back, carefully coaxing you to bend over at the waist over his desk and tracing down your spine as you fold over. You can feel his hands massage your hips for a brief moment before they’re gone, leaving you cold and wanting for his touch. You try your best to keep your eyes straight forward, though, looking out the window behind his desk as you hear the clink of his metal belt buckles. The belts are quickly tossed beside you on the desk, followed by the sound of fabric rustling, and your heart is pounding from anticipation as you hear him take a controlled, slow breath from behind. 

A warm hand returns to your hip, and you unconsciously lean into the touch.. “Are you ready, my love?” he asks, stepping closer, and you can feel the heat radiating from him— it makes you nearly salivate, imagining just what he’s going to do to you in a moment.

“Yeah. Please,” you reply, urging him on, and he chuckles lowly before you feel him slide his cockhead along the wetness between your legs. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the contact you’ve been waiting for for hours, hips bucking backwards.

“Easy, now,” he says, light laughter in his voice, though it sounds a little strained. Perhaps the need is getting to him too— it’s certainly getting to you, evident by the shallow, rushed breaths you’re taking. You don’t complain though as he coats himself in your slick, knowing it’ll help it feel better in the long run and knowing he’ll take his time no matter what you do. After he deems himself sufficiently lubricated, he holds himself steady, not quite inside you yet but prodding at your entrance. He holds still, just taking in the sight, the view of you at his complete mercy, and just when you’re about to turn around and tell him to hurry up he pushes forward, slowly, not wanting to hurt you. He’s always been large, but considering how much smaller you were than him, he feels he has to be extra careful.

Your breath hitches as he splits you open inch by inch, eyes fluttering half shut as you feel the stretch. A shaky moan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, his hands going to stroke your hips to soothe you.

“There we are. You’re doing well, beloved,” he says, voice smooth and soft, and you swear that him speaking just makes you feel that much better. He pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before lazily thrusting in again— it rips a heavy moan from deep in his chest, and, true to his word from earlier, he doesn’t hold anything back. As he sets a steady, slow pace, he’s not loud by any means, but he certainly doesn’t care to muffle his noises. His occasional groans and frequent words of praise make you clench around him, which just makes him groan even more. The room is filled with your noises, his noises, and the sound of slick skin against skin— and you get even louder when he reaches around you, swiping a finger against your wetness before beginning to gently rub at your clit. Your back arches further, head tilting back, as you let out the most debauched moan you ever have in your life. Jing Yuan chuckles from behind you.

“Does it feel good?” he teases, and your head lolls forward, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth from the feeling of him both inside and outside of you. 

“Yeah,” you whine. “So good.”

He hums in satisfaction, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder blade and upping his pace just a little bit. He’s certainly not going fast— it’s always been his style to carefully work you towards your climax, to enjoy the buildup rather than get you there immediately. Still, it sets pleasurable fire running through your veins, and your hands clench from where they’re holding onto the desk. Every drag of his cock inside you sends you closer to the edge, your body beginning to shake slightly. Your eyes are unseeing, too caught up in the feeling of in and out, in and out, circling around, rubbing, in and out. A warm feeling is beginning to stir in your gut, a tightness forming in your core, and you nearly salivate as you want more, need more. 

“Jing Yuan,” you whimper, wanting to convey as such but not having the capability to utter more than a few words at a time. “Jing Yuan,” you try again, and you hear the smile in his voice as he gently shushes you, thumb caressing your hip.

“It’s all right, my love, I understand. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and he begins to snap his hips deeper, still gentle but deeper. It rips a strangled moan from your throat, your eyelids fluttering, and that pleasured feeling grows tenfold. Your moans grow more frequent, more desperate, and you clench around him, trying your best to hold yourself back from cumming too fast. You’re breathing heavily, trying to control yourself, but then you feel him lean in over you again, murmuring close into your ear.

“You don’t have to hold back, beloved. Go ahead. I promise it’ll feel better,” he says, voice all warm and soft, and you take his words in stride— who are you to deny your General? A few more thrusts, a few more circles on your clit and you’re gone, neck snapping backwards as you let out a choked wail of pleasure, electricity flying through your entire body as your hands nearly leave imprints in the surface of the desk. Your vision blurs, likely due to the crystalline tears that have sprung to your eyes, and your back arches as your body seizes. Jing Yuan holds you steady, murmuring placating praises as your hips buck. He doesn’t stop his motions, fucking you through your high, and you swear your knees almost give out on you as the heat just doesn’t stop. Even once the ecstasy dulls somewhat, your moans subsiding by just a hair, pleasure remains, and you want him to keep going, keep going until you’re spent, until he’s spent, until the both of you collapse. You yourself are probably near the point of collapse at this point, legs like jelly, and, sensing this from where he’s half holding you up, Jing Yuan nudges one of your legs up so you’re half perched on his desk now.

“Careful, my love,” he says, still thrusting lazily into you, and you just whine back, now resting all your weight on the wood surface. He readjusts the hand that circles your clit to the new position, and the type of friction changes— all your nerves feel like they fry in response. Behind you, Jing Yuan’s breathing has deepened, though it remains steady and controlled. Only you know that it means he’s close— he only sounds this disciplined, this restrained when he’s trying not to cum. Occasionally, deep “mmmhh”s and “ah”s leave his lips, though they’re quiet, and Aeons, the thought of him letting go is so hot it makes your walls flutter and pulse around him. 

“Oh, beloved,” he groans at the feeling, hands tightening around your hips, and his thrusts are starting to get a bit sloppy, a little less rhythmic. The heat rises between the two of you, the air growing more frantic, and both of you are close, so close— you whimper his name, and his movements are getting shallower, a little more rapid. He leans down, pressing more of his body against yours, as if he’s suddenly desperate to feel you against him. One of his hands leaves your hip to brace himself against the desk, holding himself above you, and you can feel the feverish temperature radiating off his skin. His head lolls, a needy, strangled groan escaping his mouth, and that’s all it takes for the feeling to become unbearable again.

You come for the third time, and this time it’s the strongest it’s been— your noises reflect that. For a second you worry it sounds like you’re getting killed, but it feels so good you can’t even care. The noises are guttural, from deep in your chest, and as your hands tense you can feel Jing Yuan’s hand tense on your hip as well. 

“Ah, beloved,” he moans shamelessly into your ear, and then he’s gone too, delivering a thrust deep into you as you feel him spurt thick ropes of cum inside you. He doesn’t stop moving, still lazily grinding into you, both of you moaning, you whimpering as the pleasure plateaus and you become sensitive. Your hips jerk backwards, and he lets out a breathy, pleasure-coated laugh, following you and not letting up.

“Jing Yuan, too much, sensitive,” you gasp, and at this he finally slows, eventually coming to a stop still buried inside you. You’re panting, shaking slightly, and he hums in appreciation, straightening up with a groan and reaching forward to run a hand along the back of your shoulder. You both just stand there for a minute, breathing hard, before he sighs slightly in satisfaction and slowly pulls out, taking all his warmth with him. You make a disgruntled noise at the loss, though you know you can’t stay like this forever, and he gently rights you as well, tucking himself back into his pants. You turn to face him, sitting back on the desk while you recover, and watch as he leaves you to walk across the room, rummaging around for a second before returning with a glass of water.

“So, my dear assistant. Have I shown you how capable I can be, then?” he asks, that gleam in his eye returning, and you laugh, taking the glass from him and taking a big sip.

“Yeah. I dare say you have.”

[nighttimealone]

NEED ghost one!🥺

The house’s out of detergent and neither Simon or you noticed until you both staring at the filled laundry basket this morning.

“Well, I suppose I’m gonna go out and buy a bottle or two now. Or else we’ll need to go all naked tomorrow if we don’t do the laundry today.” You ruffle your hair in slight frustration, you both just woke up minutes ago, planning to dump the clothes into the washing machine then slump back on the bed again for another hour of slumber.

“Not that I mind that.” Simon voice’s still a bit hoarse from sleep too, but he’s in a good mood apparently, almost make you roll your eyes at his shameless comment, but your lips form a grin when you shoot him a side glance.

“You come with me or you stay home being cheeky?”

“You know the answer.”

Simon must admit, he’s still a bit sleepy from waking in early hours on vacation, eyes half-lidded from grogginess at first.

But he’s pushing the shopping trolley behind you as you navigate through the alley in the supermarket, he doubts he has ever been this awaked before.

The cap and disposal mask conceal his gaze directly sticking on your ass. You rummaged through your closet and finally got a pair of shorts to wear before you do the laundry. It’s an old shorts you own for years, been washed for countless times before it retired due to faded color and shrinkage, tucked in the deepest part of the closet until you fished it out today.

The shrunk fabric clings snuggly to your plump cheeks, a bit too small and tightening around your upper thighs, digging into the flesh faintly and allow them to spill around the hems just right.

He can’t tear his eyes away from how your butt jiggles every time with your steps, almost bump the trolley into other customers when he sees you bend down to pick up a bottle of detergent. “Sorry.” He mutters quickly to the poor customer, fixating on how your supple cheeks bounce tantalizingly when you straighten up that he misses the skeptical look from the customer gives him.

“Got the detergent. let’s go.” You saunter back to him, reach down to set the bottles in the trolley.

A Dangerous move without you knowing, because the next moment his palm covers one of your cheeks, gives it a firm knead and makes you yelp out in surprise.

“What the hell, Simon?” your neck snaps up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, and you find his eyes, swirling with lust and wickedness inside.

“ 's your fault for keeping flaunting that perfect arse of your in front of me.” Simon quickly pushes the trolley to the self-checkout counter, unceremoniously tossing the bottles of detergent with another hand practically shoving the cash into the machine.

Having a closer look at that ass perfectly hugged by your shorts finally break his last string of restraint. He ignores your confused questions at his sudden action, swing the shopping bag over his shoulder and take your hand, striding back to the truck with you following him and try to figure out what happened.

“So this is why you’re all worked up, huh?” You’re dragged into the driver seat along with Simon, now straddling his hips, raise an eyebrow at the tent forming at his crotch.

“Hard not to stop my cock from getting hard when your arse kept jumping up and down the entire time I was walking behind you, love.”

“We’re supposed to go home now and launder those dirty clothes, you know?”

“Adding a few more dirty clothes into the basket won’t be a big issue.” His hands find their way back to your cheeks again, palming them in “And I’ve already said, I don’t mind you have to go about the day without clothes tomorrow.”

note: please feel free to request for part 2 (aka smut) if any of you wants it, thanks

[indecisivemuch]

hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>

Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).

Word count: 4.4k (whoops)

You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 

The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 

However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).

“Luke!”

The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 

You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.

“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.

Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 

In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 

Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.

Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 

No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.

You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 

Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”

“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 

For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.

Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.

The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.

“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”

Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:

“You…”

Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—

“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 

“Yeah, but—”

“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.

Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.

“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.

“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.

“Shut up.”

Oh, you were going to be the death of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…

While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 

Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 

Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 

Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 

Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 

Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.

But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.

Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 

However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.

Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 

Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 

Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 

“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 

Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 

“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”

“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.

“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.

There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 

Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.

You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 

Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  

Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:

“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”

Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.

Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 

Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.

“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.

Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.

“You could be the one that I love, 

I could be the one that you dream of,

Message in a bottle is all I can do, 

Standing here hoping it gets to you.”

Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.

Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 

Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.

You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.

You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—

Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 

Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.

You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 

If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.

Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 

“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.

The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.

“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”

“No—”

“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 

“I was going to.”

“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”

“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 

“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 

Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.

It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 

Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.

They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.

“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.

“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.

You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.

You know now to trust your gut feelings more.

“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.

“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.

Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 

“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”

Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 

Without hesitation, he kissed you.

Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.

Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.

A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 

Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 

You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 

“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.

“Mhm.”

“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”

“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.

“I’m not against that.” 

As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.

Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.

-------------------------

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist (or to remove yourself from)

[iisasxia]

Kirishima also loves black women. I mentioned Bakugou but Kirishima is definitely on that list.

You were an exchange university student and he overheard one joining the class and thought it would be great to make another friend.. but that went out the window the minute you stepped through the door in your butt long knotless goddess braids, school uniform, and beautiful brown eyes and melanin skin.

You sat across from him in the front, he couldn’t stop staring either. He was shameless about it. You grabbed a scrunchie and put your braids in a half up and half down which now gave a better view of your gorgeous side profile. He’s never felt this way but he knew if he didn’t say anything he’d definitely lose his mind.

—

Class had ended and you took a little longer to pack up since you were receiving papers and forms you needed as an exchange student. Kirishima walked out he class until he noticed you still there. He stood at the door and took a deep inhale before walking towards you.

You look up at him after zipping up your backpack, you quirk your eyebrow as you notice his lips part to say something but no words done out.

“Yes ?” you softly ask seeing if that’ll snap him out of his weird daze.

“Sorry- I’m Kirishima, it’s nice to meet you” he was mentally cursing himself for freezing up like that, he stuck out his hand to you and you look at him, then his hand, and back at him

You gently grabbed his hand and he nearly melted into the soft touch of your skin.

“I’m y/n” you softly smile at him seeing how his face begins to grow a little red.

“Y-yeah” he has a soft smile too, the only difference is the way he’s looking at you. He can’t take his eyes off of you.

“You’re breathtaking.” it was supposed to sound more like a sweet compliment but ended up like a harsh statement, he hit his tongue in response to keep himself quiet and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Whats so funny ?” He looked at you confused, he didn’t say anything funny ?? Was it his reaction ? Or the fact that he looks lovesick over someone he just met.

“You’re just cute” you look up at him and take a step closer trying to observe his face and body.

Once more his lips part ready to say something but before he speaks you press your pointer finger to his bottom lip and look at him. Now he’s really hot.

….

“I noticed you staring at me in class. You’re cute, but you’re gonna have to get to know me first.”

You threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking out the classroom leaving him there absolutely stunned before he turned and saw you standing by the door.

—

“It was nice meeting you, Kirishima.” and you blew him a soft kiss before walking out of the classroom.

Yeah you really had him in a chokehold.

[chrollogy]

18+ MDNI; smut, purely self indulgent atsumu drabble bc i found out our mbti aren’t that compatible :( OR atsumu’s way of comforting you, pwp, unprotected s*x, cervix f*cking, creampie. wrote this while sick sorry. divider: cafekitsune.

── atsumu’s body hovered over your own, strong arms caged your head in between as he looked down at yu with that honeyed gaze you grew to love—a mix of pure lust, and adoration filled his hooded stare, his rosy lips parted to let out faux pained moans, and whimpers in the shape of your name.

atsumu looked past his flaxen strands that slightly covered his caramel eyes, hair unruly from the passionate kissing just mere minutes ago, “made jus’ for me—fuck!” the blonde gasped as he sinfully drew his hips back before languidly pushing his cock inside your sweet, sweet cunt.

a shameless, strangled whine slips past his lips at the feeling of your velvety walls kissing his most intimate part. atsumu reached for your hands, intertwining his with your own, and using them as leverage to fuck slow, and deep thrusts into you. he needed you to feel every inch of his veiny cock—every dip, and curve that had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head; atsumu was one to eagerly thrust into you on most occasions but tonight was different, he wanted to take his sweet time even if it meant pushing himself past his limits.

“see how yer pussy’s takin’ me so well, baby? like its meant ta be—ngh! don’t listen to that stupid website about not being compatible . . ‘m all yours,”

“yours to fuck, yours to love—yours to do whatever the hell y’want if it means makin’ you smile, yeah?”

you moan atsumu’s name, nails digging onto the back of his hand as the tip of his cock hits your cervix, sending a pleasurable bliss all over your sensitive body. atsumu momentarily pauses, his hips wickedly flush against yours, and cock sheathed deep inside your sopping cunt—his face fell to the crook of your neck as you sinfully squeeze around him, the feeling of climax gnawing at both your skins.

atsumu panted into your neck before desperately pushing his hips further into you, the bulbous tip of his cock prodded at your sweet spot, his balls snug against your ass,

“mhm—yeah jus’ like that, my darling. wrapped around me so good . . ya wanna know why—haah! because we’re made for each other, and no one can prove otherwise.”

lips parting into an ‘o’ shape, you let out a silent moan at how deep atsumu was—tears of pleasure prickled your eyes as he shallowly rocked his hips back, and forth, back, and forth, repeatedly kissing your sensitive core. you could feel him in your throat, and chest where your love for him resided. atsumu places a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose as though he wasn’t balls deep right this very moment, as though his abdomen wasn’t shaking from holding back his impending orgasm, as though you weren’t completely cock-drunk.

for the first time that night, a string of coherent words left your lips, “cumming—fuck! i’m cumming, tsumu!” with furrowed brows, and face contorted in ecstasy, you met atsumu’s gaze who only returned a simple nod before a his hand snaked down, down, down to your clit to rub fast, tight circles,

“cum for me, baby.” atsumu gasped against your parted lips. and you did—completely letting go beneath him, your body shivered in pleasure as you melted onto the sheets below; brain completely turned into mush, and incoherent string of babbles poured from your swollen lips. atsumu didn’t take long to cum, letting out a pained moan before sealing his lips with your own in an open-mouthed kiss while he painted your walls white—cock twitching inside you.

tears lined his eyes from the dizzying pleasure but he couldn’t care less because only you could make him feel this way. no one else.

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

[likeits2002]

Sleepy

Rodrick heffley X F!reader

Wc:369

It’s Rodrick and y/n’s first sleepover

The sound of Rodrick's van honking outside my house instantly excites me. Tonight is our first-ever sleepover. I grab my bright pink duffle bag and bound down the stairs, where I find my mom in the hallway giving me a concerned look.

"Y/n, you be careful. I don’t want you getting into any nonsense," she advises.

I nod, blow her a kiss, and then smile at my dad who's practically glaring at the beat-up van with 'Löded Diper' amateurly spray painted across it.

I leave the house, shivering in the cold air, and start walking towards the van. Rodrick jumps out at the last minute, eagerly opening the door for me before wrapping his arms around me, then hopping back in.

I step into the van and chuckle at his hurried behavior.

"What's got you in such a hurry, Roddy?" I ask.

"You know your dad creeps me out," he admits as he steps into the car and leans over to give me a quick kiss, letting out a contented sigh.

"Mhmm. I missed you so much," he murmurs.

"Did you miss me or just my lips?" I ask playfully.

"Both," he answers, giving me a sly smile and booping my nose before starting up the van.

Rodrick practically drags me into his house. When we get inside, I try to greet his mom and Greg, but Rodrick is pulling my hand up the stairs, so I just give them a sorry smile and follow him. Once we're in his room, he gives me a hopeful smile.

"So, what now?" he asks.

"I don't know, Rodrick. What do you wanna do?"

He sits down on the edge of his bed.

"How 'bout we put on a movie or something?"

And that's exactly what we do. He selects some obscure emo film, and I lie down next to him, resting my head on his chest.

Eventually, the air grows heavy with sleepiness, and the movie loses its appeal. I sit up and look at Rodrick, paying close attention to his expressive eyes and fluffy eyebrows.

"Hey, can I sit here?" I ask, straddling his stomach.

"Mhmm," he says, his hands instinctively finding my waist and toying with my pajama pants from Victoria's Secret. I lean in close, running my thumb over one of his eyebrows, watching the arch in awe.

"You have great eyebrows, Roddy," I say with a touch of amusement.

He chuckles, his hands moving up to my stomach, giving me a gentle squeeze.

I can tell he's getting tired, and I am too. I run my fingers over his eyelids, gently coaxing them closed. I trace over his nose and brow bone, until after a few minutes, I hear his breathing soften. He's asleep, and so should I be. I reach to turn off the light and lay my head down on his chest, listening to the comforting rhythm of his heart.

A/n: this is my first fic on tumblr, please don’t bully me and please request. I will probably write for Rodrick, jersey shore, shameless, and umbrella academy, but I’m open to requests on anyone

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 4

04 : DISAPPEAR

SUM. : you find out the truth about the boys' relationship

REQUEST. : this might be a dumb question but are the marauders also all in a poly relationship with each other? if so, i'd love one where the reader finally has that realisation and gets all blushy and starts to consider if they'd ever want to include her —@thepunisherfrankcastle

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; only slight fluff ; mostly angst ; im so sorry ; reader finds out the truth ; but not really in the best way ; major misunderstanding trope ; sirius isn't a bad person! ; poly relationship revealed ; yay? ; distance ; walking away trope-ish ; james is precious ; remus trying to make the hard decisions ; our boys need a hug ; wolfstar ; starchaser ; angst angst angst ; im sorry im sorry im sorry!

LENGTH : 5.2k

← PREV. : 03 | GROCERIES

Hearing James giggling fills your chest with warmth and is so contagious that you have to bite your lip so as not to join him. He sees your resistance and moves his hand, making you freeze up and stop all movement. His index finger curls under your chin to lift your gaze as his thumb settles on your bottom lip and slowly draws it out from the press of your upper teeth. 

“I can’t be the only one laughing, angel,” on his face is an innocent smile but you know he’s devilish — the raging fire he lights up inside you with the smooth delivery of his simple statement is evidence enough that he’s up to no good.

His light grasp offers barely any resistance when you lift your chin away, “that’s because I’m not ticklish like you,” 

“Hey now,” he warns firmly but you can see the mutual playfulness reflecting clearly in his hazel eyes, it was like staring into clear honey, “you’re the one who’s colouring in my tattoo like a toddler,” 

“I was bored,” you defend a little too quickly, getting huffy and exaggerating a pitiful pout. It was… a sight, James admits in his head; you look adorable like this and he wants to frame the image in his memory forever, “and besides, you agreed to it,”

“Yeah, so don’t tease me about being ticklish,” his hand reaches up to play with a strand of your hair before he leans down to press a kiss onto your forehead, where you feel his mischievous smile lift up the corner of his lips, “instead, tell me how much you love to hear my laugh,”

There’s no way you’ll ever admit that. Not to his face, at least…

“Woah, comfy are we?~” came the familiar teasing voice of Sirius, who walks into the room and almost has his eyes bulging out at the sight of you and James, “you lucky bastard, Prongs,” Sirius clicks his tongue but there’s no malice in his eyes or tone, “shirtless, all relaxed and cool, leaning back into the sofa with our doll on your lap and colouring in your tats,” your cheeks heat up under your skin when a shameless expression takes over James’s face and he sends a wink over at his fellow tattooist. 

“I guess I saved the universe in a past life,” James chuckles, receiving an eye roll in return.

“And you, princess,” Sirius whistles playfully and leans down to kiss the crown of your head, “how lucky you are to have such well-sculpted muscles and a handsome face entertaining you,” the heat on your cheeks continue to blossom, “I don’t know who I’m more jealous of,”

That was the first time you were hinted at Sirius’s dichotomy. Between the wink he sends James and the satisfied grin the glasses-wearing brunette returns, you felt a slight shaking in your heart that you couldn’t quite place. 

It didn’t feel bad… but it didn’t feel good either…

After the first homemade lunch you made for them, you’ve gotten into the habit of regularly visiting the boys at the shop with boxed lunches whenever time nears noon. They often insisted that the first surprise lunch was enough thanks. 

“It’s really okay for you not to do this, dove,” Remus voices, slowly trailing off as he leans forward to wipe a stray crumb off the side of James’ mouth with his thumb, only to lick the crumb he wiped off without batting an eye. James pays him no mind either and continues savouring your cooking; he was always the one person who devoured your food as if he was a starved man being fed for the first time.

“But–” you quickly protest, trying to dismiss the small gesture between the two, “but I enjoy cooking for you,” 

“And we’re very grateful,” Sirius smiles warmly at you and takes your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles, “but your company is enough,” ever the flatterer and flirt, you resist the butterflies in your stomach from his gesture and words. 

“And we feel guilty that you have to buy and cook all this food,” Remus adds but you assure them one more time. 

“I promise I’ll stop if it ever gets too hard or burdensome but, for now, please let me do it…” the boys look at each other and smile following a unanimous sigh of defeat. You weren’t aware of the effect your soft pleas and pretty eyes had on them. Of course, they couldn’t say ‘no’ and agreed, satisfied with your pledge for the meantime. 

“Ugh! These cookies are amazing!” James praises, completely oblivious to the interaction you had with Remus and Sirius. He looks up and the three of you have to suppress your laughter at his childish appearance, crumbs surrounding his mouth as his cheeks puffed out from the food he still had to chew. 

“Swallow your food first, James,” Remus reminds, which James quickly does before addressing you again. 

“Can you please teach me?” James leans forward in earnest and you swear there are stars in his eyes, “please teach me how to make them so I can have them all the time. I’m an expert at making fruit tarts now but Moony and Padfoot are sick and tired of me making just fruit tarts,”

You were flattered but…“I want them to stay special though,” you pout softly, “I want to be the only person who bakes them for you,”

Before James could answer, Sirius breaks out into peels of laughter, “you don’t have to worry about that, doll,” he winks at you and side-eyes James with a smirk, “James sucks ass in the kitchen, especially when it comes to baking,” James shouts in protest but is swamped by the laughter shared between you, Remus and Sirius. Nevertheless, you finally agreed to teach him just so he stops pouting… even if he looked cute doing so. 

That Saturday, you were at their apartment, eager to teach James the secrets to your baking creations. Their flat was sizable and still relatively clean, which you verbally praise and are clued into all of their cleaning habits in more detail. It appears that they have a pretty good system going on that keeps things neat; Remus handles the organisation of all items and keeps stock on most things, Sirius proactively keeps all spaces clean and James loves doing laundry. When asked, he said that the main reason was because he liked the smell of clean sheets, which you couldn’t really blame him for. Together, their good habits cumulatively result in a tidy space and you were impressed; not only were they great friends but they functioned well together too. In some ways, you were envious of that. 

When you arrived at the apartment, the boys had all of the ingredients you sent over on a list laid out on their kitchen counters, ready to be put together and baked into your famous cookies. 

“Do you two want to join us?” you ask with a smile as James helped you into Sirius’ apron, tying up the strings behind you. 

“We’re good, darling,” Sirius smiles and offers to tie up your hair as James slips into his apron. You don’t deny his assistance and hand him over your hair tie as Remus observes the scene with a soft smile, leaning against the door frame that leads into the kitchen.

As much as Sirius and Remus disparaged James’ abilities to bake in the kitchen, he, once again, proved them wrong. He did pretty well with following your instructions and getting things done if you discounted the times he got distracted and had to pull you away from the work as well, just to share in the fun. The last time you baked together was a lot of fun and you were just as eager to get back into the kitchen with him in order to experience that joy all over again. Like last time, Sirius and Remus occupied the living room while you and James got to making the cookie dough before eventually baking the cookies. With the timer set, it won’t be too long before you’re happily serving everyone yours and James’ baked cookies with some tea and coffee. 

“It’s just down the hall,” James points out, directing you to their bathroom, “it’s the last door on your right,” with a quick word of thanks, you make your way out to relieve yourself while James gets started on clean up duty. You promised not to be too long so he didn’t have to clean all by himself but he just laughed it off and assured you to take all the time you need — ever the sweetheart. 

Your mood was light and happy and, like all other times you spent with the boys, it felt as if you were walking on air… that is, until you weren’t. From the corner of your eye, when passing the living room doorway, your heart came to a stuttering stop at the scene you happened upon. 

Seated on the sofa was Remus with Sirius’ laid down, his head on the tall brunette’s lap. It would have been a scene you could have easily shrugged off if it weren’t for Remus bending down so that the two could share a loving kiss. One that had Sirius running his fingers through Remus’ light brown hair, who returned the touch by tenderly gripping at Sirius’ thigh with a spare hand. You would have remained frozen there, like some petrified statue, if Sirius didn’t hum pleasantly only to have Remus chuckle against his lips. 

Hurrying to the bathroom, you struggle to get the scene out of your head as your heart breaks over and over again until the stinging pain in your chest dulls into a throbbing ache. 

If they were in a loving relationship then you were happy for them, truly…you were; they always looked so content and at bliss around each other, you felt stupid for not having put the puzzle pieces together yourself. It was just conflicting as to why they never hesitated to establish some sort of distance with you when they already had one another. They were together romantically and yet they were able to press loving kisses against your temple and wrap their arms around you with their loved one standing close by?...

“There you are,” James chuckles when you finally make it back into the kitchen, “I was starting to get worried that you somehow got lost on your way to the bathroom,” it was a weak attempt but you joined his laughter without offering to explain your whereabouts. Turning back to the sink, James returns to washing the dishes as you wordlessly get to wiping down the surfaces. He doesn’t appear to notice your sudden change in mood or, at least, he doesn’t let on that he knows; soon enough, he’s yapping away again, being his usual goofy self and drawing a smile from you. He almost makes you forget. You could always count on James to be your ray of sunshine; a happy bug who was eager to spread his contagious joy. 

Sirius and Remus were a… surprise, although you really should have known better than to not suspect anything. They’re happy though, and you’re happy for them; that’s what matters. 

It was hard to gauge whether or not you should confront them about the revelation you had about their relationship. You had to thoroughly think it over… 

There had to be a reason behind why Remus and Sirius didn’t want to tell you about their relationship and managed to get James in on it too. It must have been a very good reason. So you can’t fault them and resolve to stay silent on the matter. Their privacy needs to be respected; they’ll tell you when they’re ready, you’re sure of it. For now, you just have to act normal, as if nothing happened. The only problem was that you were left to wonder…

Why haven’t they told you? Is it awkward for them? Maybe they didn’t trust you enough? Did they think you were homophobic?— You’re not! You fully support all types of love in all its forms and would never be prejudicial towards them because they preferred the same gender. Or maybe they did trust you but the right time just never came up? That’s also plausible. They probably just need time…yeah! Time, you can give them that; you’re a very patient person, after all—

“—Dove?” 

“H-huh?” you blink rapidly, returning to the present as Remus tilts his head at you curiously. 

“Are you okay?” there’s an amused smirk painted across his lips as he eyes you up and down, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” his warm voice is like a comforting hug on an autumn day, one that makes you want to lose all thoughts and melt into his arms. 

“Y-yeah!” you chirp as embarrassment begins to creep in, “Sorry about that,” he laughs with you, “I guess I got distracted,” Remus nods, understanding in his eyes as he turns to the clock on the office wall.

“The both of us have been at it for a while,” he hums when reading the time, “I think we deserve a break,”

“Snack run?” 

Seeing the delight in your eyes, Remus laughs and presses a kiss to your temple. It takes everything in you not to lean away out of respect for Sirius —you still need to act as normal as possible so you don’t draw attention but it’s getting harder and harder to do so, “snack run,” he confirms, his gaze lingering on your tight-lipped smile. It’s an awkward tilt of your lips and it doesn’t belong on your usually soft and brightly beaming features, Remus thinks to himself. He wants to ruminate on it’s appearance further but files away his thoughts for another day, “let me tidy up here first and I’ll meet you out front,”

Nodding stiffly, you hurry to leave and get to the front of the parlour, where you can safely catch your breath. There, you can recalibrate your thoughts and feelings from a safe distance—

Your gradually slowing thoughts come to a grinding halt as you pass. 

What did you just see?...

Angling yourself carefully and peeking through the crack of the door, you resist the urge to gasp in horror. In an otherwise empty tattoo room, Sirius sits in his tech chair and angles himself upwards as James stands and leans down to meet the former in a sweet kiss. 

Scandalised, you cover your mouth and step away from the door, suppressing a scream as racing thoughts pour into your head. 

SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!

All breath escapes you and the world begins to spin. The charming, loyal and honest character of Sirius that you’ve built up in your head breaks apart and you’re left spiralling at the implications of his betrayal. You feel like crying and vomiting and throwing a rage-filled fit all at the same time! Wait! —No! It’s not about what you want to do it’s about what you need to do and that’s to—

It was then that you hear Remus walking down the steps behind you. Your heart jumps in your chest and your stomach caves in on itself. Leaning forward, you peek through the crack in the open door again and find Sirius carefully prepping his tools for a later appointment while James is against one wall on the other side of the room, checking something on the computer. 

Good… Remus doesn’t have to see anything… you think to yourself, although the thought alone makes your heart break all over again. 

“Ready to go?” Remus asks, approaching you with a lifted brow of curiosity. He’s probably wondering why you haven’t made it to the front of the parlour yet. 

“I-I was just thinking!…uhh,” you bite your lip and try to keep your rising panic from reflecting in your eyes. 

“Hmm?”

“I don’t really want to go on a snack run,”

“Oh?” Remus didn’t even try to hide his surprise, it wasn’t like you to not go on a snack run — so much for wanting to act normal… “How come?”

“I just remembered something-!” it was a lame excuse but you could kill two birds with one stone through this, it’ll be worth it, “-something I wanted to talk to Sirius about—”

“You called?~” speak of the devil and he shall appear. Upon hearing his name, Sirius pulls open the door and flashes his usual charming smile, which only draws a chilling glare from you. Caught off-guard, Sirius blinks in surprise, “What’s the matter, dollface?”

A taunting whistle floats through the air from behind him as James steps up and eyes your unusually angry expression, “what did you do this time, Pads?”

“I-I don’t know…” his normally confident, unwavering voice stutters and is offered cautiously, almost scared despite the tattooist standing a good few inches taller than you. 

Finding some confidence, you square your shoulders and address Remus again but keep your glare focused on Sirius, “Why don’t you and James go on a snack run while I talk to Sirius?” you almost snap out the cheater’s name from spite. You can’t believe you ever deluded yourself into thinking he was a good person that could do no wrong. He’s charmed you, Remus and James, tricked all three of you and you weren’t going to stand for it. 

The two boys jokingly wish their friend ‘good luck’ as they walk past and head out, promising to get his favourites so he can nurse his wounds from the verbal beat-down he was about to receive with something yummy. It’s clear that James and Remus don’t really believe you’re capable of delivering much vengeance or rage but the fire in your eyes tells Sirius otherwise. As soon as the front door closes behind the two, you push Sirius back into the private tattoo room before he could utter a single word. 

“You need to explain yourself, Sirius Orion Black and you need to do it now!” you demand, your voice harsh and biting, something you’ve never done in front of the boys before and catches the traitor, in your eyes, by complete surprise. Sirius doesn’t know what he’s done but he already feels incredible guilt and sorrow over it. He’s never wanted to draw out such a horrid emotion out of you; you’re only allowed to feel happiness and love and comfort. Not this. Never this…

“I-I don’t understand, princess—” he reaches for you but you step away from his touch, your piercing glare and obvious rejection stabbing a knife through his chest. You’ve never pulled away from his reach before, he’s not used to this. What did he do? He would take it all back, whatever he did, if it meant that you would lean into his touch again rather than pull away. He’d do anything to quash the evident flames of rage in your eyes. What did he do?... What did he do goddamnit?! 

“I saw it! I saw everything! You’re playing both of them!” you shout, your rage lashing out and scorching him with their intense heat. There was no holding you back, you told him everything, about how you saw his kiss with Remus and James. His eyes widen in shock before filling with horror, which does nothing but corroborate your heart breaking revelations, “I don’t want to believe it! How could you do this to them, Siri?...” your shouting voice slowly quietens and tapers off at the end, quivering like a shaken autumn leaf. So heartbroken over the fact, your rage quickly turns into sorrow and tears quickly fill your eyes, “You’re better than that, I know you are!” and you really do. No matter how betrayed you feel and having witnessed the evidence first hand, you cling onto the little slither of faith you still had in Sirius, “Please tell them the truth, they deserve the truth… they deserve you being forthcoming with them because they’re good guys,”

Looking on at you, Sirius feels his heart break. This misunderstanding was tearing you up inside and, although it makes him happy to know that you would confront him and be angry for the boys at his supposed betrayal, watching you break down, and sob uncontrollably made Sirius’ heart twist and clench uncomfortably— painfully so. 

Without a word, he reaches out again and is able to bring you into his arms. You don’t return the gesture but you make no effort to push him away either. 

“Shhh Shhh Shhhhhh, darling…” Sirius whispers comfortingly, softly patting your hair as he waits for your sobbing to calm down enough for him to come clean. Scrap the plan, whatever bullshit plan they came up with to slowly ease you into accepting their relationship before selfishly asking for your love as well. He wasn’t going to let you continue misunderstanding their relationship, especially when it’s causing you so much pain, “...this is all a big misunderstanding…” he begins softly once your cries were finally reduced to soft sniffles, “do you know what polyamory is, sweetheart?”

“...n-no…”

“It’s when more than two people agree to be in a loving, romantic relationship with each other, all at the same time,” he explains in the same soft voice, his arms never pulling away from you as he feels you slowly lose your grip on resistance. 

“Is…is that…”

“Yes, that’s the relationship James, Remus and I are all a part of…” he looks down with a gentle smile and watches you peek up at him curiously. Sirius resists the urge to swoop down and pepper your face with kisses. Just when he thought his love for you couldn’t grow any bigger, here you were being the sweetest, most caring and lovable little thing he’s ever laid eyes on. 

However, you slowly begin to shake your head and the resistance in your eyes and expression returns. This time you push him away and keep him at arm's reach. Like a scared prey animal being cornered by a predator, you inch your way back until you're pressing yourself against the wall beside the door. It takes Sirius two steps forward to finally stop and keep his place so that you don’t feel pushed or stressed by his presence. 

“I-I won’t believe you until James and Remus say so…” 

He shrugs and gives you a pained smile. He supposes he can’t blame you for being cautious and not believing him, he’s the apparent ‘cheater’, afterall. 

You watch Sirius part his lips to voice something when you hear the parlour door open and rush into the hallway to see James and Remus walk in. The two were grinning cheekily at each other and their arms were piled high with an assortment of snacks. They held true to their promise; you could spot many of Sirius’ favourites among the pile and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably. 

As soon as the two look up and see your dishevelled form, your eyes pink and tearful, your bottom lip wobbling from restrained cries and your frame closed up like a frightened clam, the snacks are carelessly disregarded and they rush to your side. 

“Dove?” Remus calls, worry evident in his voice as he steals a glance at Sirius over your trembling shoulder. The response he was given — tight lips, drawn into a straight line and unreadable eyes — wasn’t enough, however and his chocolate pools hardened into brown stone. What. Did. You. Do?... Remus silently interrogated the tattooist.

“What happened, angel?” James immediately wraps his arms around you and you almost melt into his hold if it weren’t for your need to clarify everything dominating your thoughts. 

“Are you and Remus in a relationship with Sirius?” your hesitant voice, small and fraying at the edges, speaks up but barely above a whisper. The two men visibly stiffen beside you and you feel a well of tears quickly building up again; your thoughts immediately jumping to the worst possible outcome. 

“Tell her the truth. Give her peace of mind, lads,” Sirius speaks up, his own voice lacking its usual confidence and was reduced to a vulnerable softness. 

“Yes,” Remus affirms after a beat of silence. 

“We’re all consenting, we all love each other, mutually!” James pipes up, his tone bordering on defensive despite not knowing what he’s their relationship defending from, “You…you don’t think of us differently do you?”

“No! No no no! Of course not,” you quickly elucidate your thoughts, your shoulders relaxing as you turn and meet eyes with Sirius, mustering a small smile, “it’s actually quite a relief,”

Grinning softly, Sirius steps up to explain the situation, “Dollface over here thought that I was cheating on you and James with each other, Rem,” he chuckles softly, amusement in his eyes though it still lacked their full brightness, “she gave me a good shouting to and looked like she was ready to bite my head off if I didn’t ‘come clean’ to both of you,” Remus laughs and pulls Sirius into a sideways hug as James coos lovingly at you. 

“You got angry for us, angel?” James presses his face into your hair and nuzzles you affectionately, “you’re the sweetest~” he coos, his smirk growing as he feels an embarrassed heat radiating off your cheeks. 

“St-stop the James,” you whine with an awkward smile and wiggle yourself out of his arms, avoiding his pouting lips because you know your resolve will melt away at the sight. It was confirmed. They were in a relationship, all three of them, with each other. You should be happy that Sirius wasn’t a cheater and still the wonderful man you saw him to be. But, no matter how happy you were for them, the twisting of your stomach and the gaping hole in your heart wasn’t easily fixable. 

The following weeks, you maintained the friendship you had with the boys, who no longer felt the need to limit their intimate touches around you. However, whenever they tried to initiate affection with you, as per usual, once the innocent kiss on the temple and harmless hug was now fervently being rejected by you and pushed away. You had no intention of disrespecting their relationship, even if most acts of affection you exchanged as friends were innocuous. But, then again, it was also your way of protecting your already shattered heart. Yes, you could just stay away from them entirely but you had built such a strong friendship with them that it didn’t feel right to candidly pretend that you’ve never met them before. It’ll do more harm than the harm you were inflicting now…  

Ever the observant man that he was, Remus knew the instant reason behind your hesitation and was quick to reassure you the next time you were invited over for tea. 

“It’s really okay, sweetheart,” the tall brunette hums softly as James and Sirius agree from their own seats, “we’re okay with it and you aren’t going to come in between any of us, I promise you,”

Stubbornly, you shake your head, pulling a deep frown from all of them.

“Are you not comfortable with it?” James asks with uncertainty, his question and its potential implication is filled with enough dread to make even his two lovers stiffen up. 

You nod your head ‘yes’ and they slump in their rejection. It hurt to know that the revelation of their relationship had pushed you away when the basic nature of their affair meant more love for everyone. And they wanted it to include you… Their romance that led to such an abundance of love and promises of more was now paradoxically pushing you away. For once, they didn’t know what to do, not a single one of them could come up with any idea to resolve the ever-growing tension in your relationship. It was a rubber band ready to snap. 

“If you’re uncomfortable then we’ll respect that and keep our distance, touch-wise” Remus surrenders despite the heartbreak it gives him while Sirius shoots up and sends him an irate glare, one that Remus coldly returns. It wasn’t a question of their comfortability but yours, Sirius needed to regard that to the highest degree and Remus was all too ready to make him face the music. They can’t afford to lose you and if it meant that he needed to make the hard decisions then so be it.

“Thank you,”

“...do you not want to be around us anymore?” James speaks up, not necessarily taking things to their extremes but rather potential, future escalations. He’s seen it. In the days and weeks that followed the divulgence of their true relationship, bit by bit you have begun to pull away from them to the point where James can vividly see where the escalation of your behaviour will lead and it’s frightening. One day, you’ll just disappear and that terrifies him. 

“No no…” your weak defence, lacking true resolve, ignites a shock of terrorising fear in all three of them, their eyes shaking with trepidation. But you couldn’t see it because you couldn’t look at them, like a coward. Because that’s what you are — a coward. The heartbreak was chipping away at you. You thought you would be brave enough to see them happy together but you couldn’t. Because, not only were you a coward, but you were selfish too. Green with envy, you stewed in that awful, stomach-twisting, heart-aching, bitter-tasting, gut-wrenching feeling each time you saw every loving kiss, affectionate cuddle and sweetly whispered words. 

Throughout your friendship you grew to love each of them as more than a simple friend. You know it was wrong but they were all so charming in their own, unique way. They treated you sincerely, cared for you without any sinister, ulterior motives and they’ve successfully wormed their way into your life and heart, permanently. 

What was once something that brought you such joy, warmth and feelings of safety was now mercilessly ripping you apart. 

Their dynamic looked different to you now that you were looking through a different lens. They weren’t just close friends anymore, they were very much in love and have been romantically involved for a few years now — it was one of the first things you found out about their relationship. Its longevity was a testament to their unwavering love for each other and here you were, secretly, selfishly and salaciously hoping for your own slice of the love pie.  

How dare you…

Just because you’ve had such bad luck with love didn’t mean you had the right to wish for something that couldn’t possibly become yours. You have no right to ask them for love when they are completely content with their own.  

“Please don’t push us away, dollface,” Sirius begs softly, his steel grey eyes melting into a pool of mercury. Beautiful but poisonous. Something you want but can’t have. 

“I’m sorry,” you’re breathless when you see the genuine fear in their eyes and turn away from the sight. This isn’t the time to turn weak at the knees, “it’s getting pretty late, I should go,” shouldering your bag, you get up and rush to leave their flat. 

“Stay,” Remus half commands and half begs, almost stopping you in your tracks, “please stay… we need to talk to you about something important,” if there was any time for them to reveal the truth, it was now. Before they lose you, before they drown themselves in regret, before they fall into a pit of despair, before they—

“I’m sorry…” you repeat and, just as James feared, you disappear. 

A/N : this took such a long while to write but i wanted it to be perfect, thank you so much for requesting this darling @thepunisherfrankcastle it fit perfectly into the plot although i did make some slight altercations to your request. unfortunately, there's still more to go after this so i'm going to have to leave you darlings with a cliffhanger, look out for part 5! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

→ NEXT. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS M.LIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @ghostgardn @mess-is-my-aesthetic @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic TAGLIST CLOSED

[syddsatyrn]

heyyyy i didn’t know if requests were open so you can just ignore this if they aren’t-

can i get some alastor smut?:) just gen stuff

Redemption By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Alastor x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, some dubcon, dom/sub, p in v, praise kink, toxic relationship, creampie, Alastor owns your soul, 18+ Minors DNI

⛧Words: 1k ⛧Notes: I gotchu! My request are open! Please read my rules before you send one!

This wasn't the first time you’ve been in this situation. You’ve been seeing the shadows follow you all day, they whispered about you, watching your every move. This means that Alastor wants you home as soon as possible. When you finally walk through the front door of the hotel, the other patrons are staring at you. The mass of black shadows creeping behind you was unsettling, even for them. You quickly made your way to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. You were used to it by now, having your every move observed. You just wished that instead of sending a hoard of shadows after you, he would get a cell phone and just text you.

As you exit the Elevator you walk down the red-carpeted hallway to Alastors radio tower. When you open the door you can feel his sinister presence take over the air. Alastor was typing out some notes for his next radio broadcast. He doesn't even look at you at first, keeping focus on his typewriter, the keys clacking as you stand there. Your heart raced, and your palms started to sweat.

“You’re late…” Alastor says, a tinge of anger in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up.”

“For two hours?! Do you take me for a fool?!” He raises his voice, and a glowing green collar attached to a chain appears around your neck out of thin air. Alastor holds the other end of the chain, pulling you closer to him. Only a few centimeters separate his lips from yours, his eyes are locked on yours, and you can't look away. “I’ve been in need of your assistance, and you leave me waiting? Tsk tsk.” He tuts and moves a few stray hairs away from your face.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” You choke out, he softly caresses your face with a wicked smile.

"You think you can beg your way out of this? My dear, you underestimate me.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise…” You plea, but this kind of behavior never works on Alastor.

“Promises are easy to make, my dear. Why don’t we see if you can deliver on yours?" Alastor says with a depraved look in his eyes.

His lips met yours in a fervent collision, igniting a blaze of desire that consumed you. He kept the chain wrapped around one hand as the other roamed your body, hungry for more. Every touch, every caress fuels something in you, Alastor is the only one who can bring out this primal side of you that you hide so well.

You immediately give in and start to unbutton his shirt while he takes over your mouth. His tongue dances with yours as he groans into the kiss. He breaks away, grabs the collar around your neck, and drags you to his desk. Alastor bends you over rather forcefully and you yelp as your torso hits the desk.

Alastor growls as he presses his clothed cock against your ass. “Are you ready for your redemption, darling?” He says followed by a low growl. Your breath hitched and you nod, Alastor has a menacing look on his face. He quickly pulls your skirt down along with your panties to reveal your wet cunt.

“My, my…you’re already prepared.” He says while digging his claws into your hips.

Alastor unbuckles his pants, pulling them down a bit to free his cock. You feel the tip of his length tease your wet hole before slowly pushing his way inside. You whimper and squirm a bit, trying to adjust to his size.

Alastor begins to thrust in and out with force, he lets out a low growl. You cry out in pleasure as Alastor pounds your soaking wet cunt, the desk slams into the wall causing you to yelp. Alastor pulls the chain connected to your collar, making you arch your back further, causing him to reach even deeper. You begin to tear up a bit as you let out a mix of whimpers and moans. Alastor leans in closer to your ear and begins to whisper.

"That's my good girl." He whispers, it sends shivers up your spine. The line between pleasure and pain is really thin when you and Alastor get intimate. You enjoy it but you also hate it, a mix of emotions that you can't seem to sort out. Alastor is relentless, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as he fucks you deeper and deeper. You are starting to see stars as you get closer and closer, Alastor's claws drag down your back leaving bright red marks. You wince and grip the edge of the desk like your life depends on it. Alastor's eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans, thrusting his cock into you as deep as possible as he cums, you soon follow as you release onto his throbbing cock. You moan something that sounds like his name, your body begins to tremble as you find that sweet release. These are the moments that make you wonder if this is really a punishment at all.

The chain around your neck disappears and Alastor removes himself from your cunt. You slowly push yourself up, your legs shaking, and turn around to see him buckling his belt and fixing his tie. You locate your clothes and attempt to put them back on despite how wobbly you are. "Are you satisfied?" You ask a tinge of attitude in your voice. "For now." He says with a sinister grin. He's been waiting around for her all morning, he was starting to get impatient and needy before you showed up. Alastor is always a mystery, a danger that lurks in the shadows. The deal you made with him isn't always convenient, but it was better than the previous outcome. He motions for you to come to him, and you obey. He holds your face in his hands and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your face turns a shade of pink, surprised by his actions.

He whispers softly in your ear. “Until next time, my darling~”