#it's all still in the basement and I'm not going back down there tonight

[death-rebirth-senshi]

The worst part of this dizziness and headaches I'm having is that I kind of like having physical symptoms that are making things hard for me instead of just being depressed.

[scoobywrites690]

Simons favourite Cam Girl pt2

As I’m writing this we are 100 followers away from 1k followers and I’m so excited! I’ve gotta think of what to do for a 1k special. If anyone has any ideas feel free to let me know. Also what do we think of the account revamp? This piece is so fucking long it’s like 2k words but I love it so much. Part one here

cw: blow job, toys, penetration, cream pie, pussy eating

Even though you earnt a living by exposing yourself to a live audience every night, doesn’t mean you actually know what you’re doing when it comes to having any form of sexual relations with a man. Yes, you’ve slept with a handful of men. But that’s it, so when you offered your favorite and most loyal viewer an offer, you weren’t actually expecting him to agree. 

Yet here you stand face to face with the man who’s supported you right from the beginning of your career. He’s not entirely what you expected, and in all honesty you were expecting some low life loser who lives in their parents basement, which you can now confirm is the complete opposite of the man that you now know as Simon. 

He’s absolutely massive compared to you, in every possible way. He towers over you, dwarfing your entire frame just by standing next to you. His arms are thick and fat with muscle to the point that he doesn’t even need to flex for you to be able to see them, his chest so broad and wide that you’d completely disappear if he stood in front of you.

You had never seen a man so big, which had you questioning if you were ready to take on a man of his size. But it’s too late to back out now. 

“Listen, there's something I need to make clear before we start.” You state, twiddling your thumbs as you find yourself intimidated at the man that stands before you. 

“Anything, doll.” He says, his voice thick and rough.

“I’ve only ever been with a couple of guys. So, I'm not actually a hundred percent sure on what to do.” You admit, looking up to meet his lingering gaze. Scanning his features for any shock or disappointment. As most people would expect a cam girl to have plenty of experience. 

“Don’t you worry, luv. I’ll guide ya.” He says, cupping your face with his giant hands. His hands are rough and hard against your cheeks.

“You sure you still wanna do this?” You ask.

“Of course, I’ve been dreaming of this day since I first discovered you.” He remarks, his voice filled with such joy and happiness that you could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Okay then, I wasn’t sure if you’d want your face being shown. So I went and grabbed this.” You say as you fish out the mask you brought this morning. It’s not much just a skull mask that comes down over his nose, but it’ll hide any recognizable features if he wants them hidden.

“I didn’t think about that, thank you.” He says, taking the mask from your hand before securing it over his head making sure it’s nice and snug to avoid it slipping down. 

“Okay you ready?” You ask once the mask is secure. 

“Go ahead.” He says, taking a seat on the bed behind you as you start up the live. Your webcam flickers on as the view of yourself soon fills up your screen, it doesn’t take long before the live chat starts filling up with people all greeting you as they enter. 

“Hello everyone!” You exclaim, waving at the camera whilst flashing them a smile.

“I’ve got a little treat in store for you all tonight.” You remark as you watch the chat load comment after comment of people expressing their curiosity. Rolling your chair to the side a bit you reveal the hulking form of Simon sitting on the bed, looking every bit intimidating with his mask on. 

“I invited a very special viewer to join me today! He’s a long time subscriber and a trusted one at that, so I thought he deserved a reward for being so loyal.” You explain.

“I won't make you guys wait any longer though.” You state with a chuckle before making your way over to Simon, his hands reaching out to wrap around your waist the minute you are close enough. Dragging you towards him and hoisting you up into his lap your thighs on either side as you straddle the mammoth of a man. 

His lips meet yours, soft and warm as they press together before his tongue darts out to meet yours, in a sloppy tangled mess. Locking your arms around his neck, your fingers tugging on the short blonde hair at the nape of his neck as you slowly roll your hips grinding yourself against him. A growl like moan rubbles from inside Simon as his hands on your hips help to move you against him. 

“I feel like I’m gonna fuckin’ burst, doll.” He states pulling away from you, his eyes blown with lust as he rakes his eyes over your body. 

“Where’s that toy from last time?” He asks.

“In that box over there.” You state pointing towards the plastic box that sits in the corner. 

Lifting you up and placing you on the bed Simon heads towards the box, removing the lid in search of the fake cock from your previous live stream. It looks nowhere near as big in Simon’s hands compared to when it was in yours, making the struggle that you had using it seem ridiculous and maybe even fake. 

“Open wide for me, dollface. We gotta get you prepped.” He asks, standing in front of you.

“I-I um..I’m not actually very good at doing that.” You admit, your cheeks flushing as embarrassment washes through your body.

“What? Sucking a dick.” He asks, earning him a nod in response as you meet his gaze. 

“I’ve not had a lot of practice.” You say as you twiddle your fingers in your lap.

“S’alright don't worry yourself. I’ll help ya.” He says before dazzling you with a comforting smile. 

“Now open wide. Tongue out. Nice and flat. Like you’re begging for it.” He gruffs gripping ahold of your jaw. Opening your mouth nice and wide sticking your tongue like he asked has Simon groaning at the sight of you sitting so pretty in front of him, as he slides the silicone cock against your extended tongue.

Pushing it back Simon watches as the fake cock fills your mouth, lips thinning as you wrap them around the girth. Dragging it back out watching as your saliva coats the surface just to slide it back in again.

“Can I go deeper?” He asks as he works it in and out. Nodding in response has Simon pumping the fake cock just that little bit deeper.

“Suck for me, but no teeth. Nice and wide just like that.” He demands as he watches you hollow your cheeks.

“Fuck me, I could blown in my jeans just at the sight of you. So fuckin’ beautiful.” He groans as he works the fake cock deeper down your throat, but taking enough care so you don't choke around it. Saliva coats your lips as he pulls the cock out a string of it stretching between you and the toy before he’s pushing it back in.

“You’re doing so well.” He coos running his fingers through your hair making sure to keep it out of the way. 

You can’t help but whimper out at the praise, as you stare up into his piercing gaze. Reaching for his hips you bracing yourself against him, letting your wandering hands roam the expanse of his body. Before palming over his rock-hard cock.

Using both hands you begin tugging at his waistband fumbling with his belt before yanking his jeans down just enough to allow access to his aching cock. Reaching in and pulling it free from the confinements of his boxers. Staring at him as you work your hand up and down his length, with his hips bucking forward in response.

“Fuck!” He exclaims. Pulling the fake cock free from your mouth and throwing it aside before reaching down to lift you. Throwing you further onto the bed. 

“Spread those legs. Lemme see that pretty pussy, baby.” He says from where he stands at the edge of the bed still, removing the jeans that sit at his ankles. Dropping your thighs apart, nice and wide you let him marvel in the sight of your soaked panties.

“Well isn’t that just the prettiest sight.” He remarks tugging his cock, before crawling towards you. Gripping a hold of the flimsy lace that covers you tearing it clean in half. 

Hooking his arms under your thighs spreading you nice and wide before burying his head between your thighs. His tongue is soft and silky as he licks up your slit flicking hard when he meets your clit, that you can’t help but arch up off the bed. 

“Mhm you like that.” He murmurs against you before draping your thighs over his shoulders. Going in for another taste he laps at your slick, sliding his tongue between your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. 

“God, yes!” You moan as you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

Simon slipping a finger inside of you has you groaning out as you grind your hips against his face. 

“Do you want another one? Get you nice and ready for my cock, mhm?” He asks, dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“Yes!” You nod, frantically as your claw at the sheets beneath you. 

And he does just that, slipping another finger inside your sopping core pumping them nice and fast in and out of you as he sucks at your clit.

“Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.” You curse.

“Cum for me, baby. All over my face, give it to me.” He demands. Your body jerks as your muscles spasm, clenching around his fingers before releasing all over him. Simon laps at your pussy, licking up every drop of cum he can get before sucking your release off his own fingers. 

“Fuck me.” You pant, chest heaving as you lay there in the middle of the bed.

“You like that?” He smirks, knowing damn well he just made you cum harder than any toy has been able to. 

“You okay?” He chuckles, grabbing ahold of your hands and pulling you up onto your knees.

“Yeah, j-just gimme a second.” You pant, as he positions you at the end of the bed again. 

“Here, wanna have a proper go?” He asks as he tugs at his cock, his tip throbbing as it drips pre cum. And you can't help but nod eagerly at the opportunity.

“Take it. With both hands. Get it nice and wet for me.” He says aligning his tip against your lips. The taste of the salty pre cum coats your lips like gloss.  Your tongue darts out lapping at the liquid. Slipping your lips down over his swollen tip, you let yourself feel every ridge and vein as you glide across them with your tongue.

“Fuck. That’s it, doll. A bit deeper f’me” He coaxes. 

Pulling more of him into your mouth the same way he did with the fake cock earlier, you let his length fill your mouth and the noises of pleasure that slip past his lips has your pussy getting wetter and wetter, dripping with arousal. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” He moans. His hands gripping at your hair before pulling you off of his cock. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, worry flooding your system at the thought of doing something wrong.

“Nothing, luv. I’m gonna end up blowing down your throat if you keep it up. And that’s not where I want it.” He says as he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb across the expanse of your cheek before planting a kiss to your forehead. 

“How do you feel about sitting on me cock, baby?” He asks.

“I think I can do that.” You answer.

“Just say if you don’t wanna, alright?” He says whilst propping himself up against the head board. 

“Okay.” You nod before straddling him, his massive hands coming down to grip your waist.

“Nice and slow, okay.” He says as he helps you position yourself above his cock. Splaying your hands across his chest you inch yourself backwards aligning yourself with his tip.

Your legs straining as you lower yourself down, his tip hitting against your entrance has you stifling a moan as you sink yourself down onto him. Slowly each inch disappears inside of you stretching your tight little pussy around his massive cock. He’s so fucking thick that you find yourself letting out a whimper as he rubs against your walls.

“I feel so full.” You groan, earning you a chuckle in response as you work the last few inches inside of you. 

“You look so beautiful right now, doll face.” He says, releasing his grip on your waist to pull your tits free of the lace bra that you’ve still got on. 

“Fuck me. Look at these beauties." He remarks, squeezing at the fat of your breasts before wrapping his mouth around your rock hard nipple. 

“Fuck!” You moan as you slide the last inch of his cock inside of you, your pussy flush with his pelvis.

“How do you feel?” He asks releasing your nipple from his mouth with a pop.

“So fucking good.” You groan “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good.” You state. 

Simon chuckles at your statement before planting a firm grip to your waist.

“Come on then. Move these hips, baby.” He says, giving you a slight tap to the ass before beginning to lift you upwards. The feel of his cock dragging against your walls has your eyes rolling back as you bounce yourself up and down his length. Rocking yourself backwards and forward has your clit brushing up against him causing you to squirm and clench around him. 

You can't help but pant out curse after curse as you swivel your hips on top of him.

“Atta girl. Ride me.” He groans, folding his arms behind his head so he can marvel in your beauty. 

Sweat coats your skin as you grip and claw at the skin of his chest, every part of your body trembles as you force yourself to keep going. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He asks.

“Yes. God yes!” You moan, your hands coming up to play with your own nipples as you bounce back onto his cock. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, baby.” He coos. His hands coming back to your waist to help you rock yourself back against him. His cock fills you to the brim as you clench down around him, your body shaking with the intensity of your approaching orgasm. 

“Fuck, baby.” Simon groans as he slams you down onto his cock, holding you in place as he releases inside of you, rope after rope of thick pearly cum coats your walls as you milk him dry. 

“Fuck.” You pant, rolling yourself off of him and onto the bed. 

“You okay?” Simon asks, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you. 

“I’m so good right now.” You state, as a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“That’s good.” He says smirking, before placing a kiss against your lips. Soft and gentle before pulling away, to get up. 

Walking towards the webcam, Simon takes a quick glance at the live chat, that’s flooding in message after message. 

“I can see you all enjoyed that, very much.” He chuckles.

But I’ve gotta go take care of her now.” He says before switching the camera off, not even bothering to say goodbye before he's turning back towards where you lay, taking the mask off.

“Let's get you cleaned up, aye.” He says, scooping you up off the bed and walking you towards the bathroom. Where he perches you on the counter so he can start running the bath.

[jjjjisun]

Pre-Game Ritual (Final)

Minju X Male Reader | 10304 words

TW: Incest

—

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

—

Buy me a Ko-Fi.

Book commissions here.

—

[Minju... I can't stop thinking about you]

Minju's phone buzzed as she pushed her duffel off her shoulder and the door to her dorm room closed behind her. Looking at her phone, the smile returned to her face and Minju fell back onto the couch in the middle of her and Deborah's room. The old sofa her parents had given her when she moved in was the one that she and her brother used to battle on in the basement when they were younger. There were pulls all over it and one of the cushions definitely had a big tear in the underside where Y/N had once thrown it at her and hit the cabinet instead.

This was crazy. Minju could barely think what to write back as she quivered in pure excitement at what had finally happened with her and her big brother. He was apparently the man of everybody's dreams, or so all her friends said, but only she had gotten to do what they all wanted to, brother or not.

For a few moments between halftime and now, Minju had wondered if her brother was going to treat what had happened as anything more than the relationship that Y/N had with that awful ex, Eunju. But upon receiving his text, and even before that when she saw him staring as he was ushered off the field after the game, Minju knew everything was going to be okay.

-I could barely talk to anybody after we... it was like you made my brain melt!- Minju finally responded.

She had truly avoided people as much as she could after what had happened in the locker room. Perhaps her brother could go out and win a football game after that, but Minju felt completely overcome by the experience.

-You were so amazing out there Oppa. Everybody is talking about it.-

Y/N smiled at his little sister's compliment, almost seeing the pride on her face like she'd worn when he saw her after he scored the first touchdown in the second half.

[I wonder why that is... did you tell them about how you were the MVP?]

-The MVP huh? Don't I get some kind of reward for that?-

[Anything you want sis]

-Hmm... anything?-

[You name it]

Y/N wondered if he was being too forward, and the pause after he texted her made him feel a bit nervous. They were still in uncharted territory and the last thing he wanted to do was overstep with his little sister, no matter how badly he wanted to continue what they'd started.

[What are you doing right now] He asked, trying to continue the conversation.

-Laying on Mom and Dad's old couch. I just got home, what about you?-

[Still in the locker room. All of the guys are finishing up showers and I think coach wants to talk to us about the game]

-SO MANY NAKED DUDES, SO MUCH TESTOSTERONE.- Minju teased, always giving him a hard time about the easiest stereotypes.

[I think you know where I would be if I didn't have to be here]

Again, Minju waited to send something back. She knew he was hoping for her to play into his implications but it felt good to string him along. 'Make him work for it,' Minju repeated in her head.

[Are your girlfriends all going out tonight?] Y/N asked

-They said they were, but I'm thinking of staying in-

Y/N felt like begging to come over. He was near shouting into his phone.

-I'm looking at that spot on the couch that mom had to patch when you burned it with a firecracker right now. You're still a huge pyro aren't you?-

[Duh.] Y/N responded. Some of the guys were beginning to get clothes on and wander over toward the space where they usually gathered. He didn't want to stop texting his little sis, but the coach had a strict no-phones policy for this kind of thing.

-I love having this couch in my dorm, so many memories, so much stupid stuff we did in that basement-

God did Y/N love her. She was right, they had made so many memories together in that basement. Growing up, they'd fought and played together for hours on end down there, left alone to their own devices and to keep each other company. Somewhere along the line, he'd grown much bigger, and she much prettier and all the while he'd built up a love for her that meant he'd do anything to protect and take care of her.

And now Y/N was imagining his little sister laying out, wearing the tank-top she usually did after games and a pair of team gym shorts she always managed to roll a few times at the waist. Her lithe little frame would be stretching out and her smooth feet, with those delicate toes working their way under the arm-pad at the end. She wasn't exactly the same little sister who he'd held down on the couch until she shouted uncle. Maybe she was, he just wanted to be on top of her for an entirely different reason.

His phone buzzing in his hand brought Y/N back to the present.

-I think I know what I want as my prize for being the MVP.-

[What's that?] Y/N texted as his coach called them over to huddle up.

-I want you to come over so we can play together on the couch tonight...-

He was looking down at his phone and his heart was beating faster and faster as he approached the gathering team.

-Only I'm gonna be naked and mom and dad won't come down to check on us.-

-

Words were said, players were congratulated for spectacular play, the team huddled and broke apart and all the while Y/N was thinking of Minju. He couldn't help it; the thought of her lying on that old couch without a thing on, and waiting for him to come over made him mad with excitement.[U2] She was his baby sister, his own adorable college girl, and an unbelievably hot one at that. At a time when every girl at school would claw each other's eyes out to get with him, Y/N wanted nothing more than to rush off and meet his beautiful, eighteen-year-old sister in her dorm as promised.

She wasn't exactly waiting for him. In the time after she'd texted her brother what she wanted, Minju had laid on the couch, enamored, for a few minutes. But not for long, because suddenly she was feeling giddy and nervous like a girl who had finally gotten the attention of a boy in her grade. She got in the shower and shaved her legs, washed every inch of her body and then stared in the mirror primping and preening for what seemed like forever.

Minju felt particularly relieved that the hazing of the day before had included a spa trip and wax because she could feel how smooth her pussy was as she rubbed lotion onto her skin from head to toe. After texting her roommate to ask if she could sleep somewhere else that night and tidying her room, Minju wore only a towel and waited patiently for her brother to arrive.

Doing his best to be inconspicuous, Y/N put the hood of his sweatshirt up and took the stairs rather than the elevator to his sister's floor. He checked the hallway and had to wait for two girls to walk into their rooms before rushing over and turning the handle to his little sister's room. He closed the door behind him and backed up against it, letting out a deep breath he'd been holding.

The sound of the door opening made Minju's heart jump. She knew he was coming, knew what they intended to do: something they had technically already done it earlier that day. But this time felt different.

They hadn't yet met on any day other than a Friday before the game. They had only touched each other on the premise that it was in some way a service to the football team. Before, it was like they had an excuse, but as Minju stood up and watched her brother turn the lock on the door behind him, she knew that he was there for her and only her.

Y/N watched his little sister stand up from the couch with a towel wrapped around her. She was adorable. Petite, youthful and so nervous - he could see it on her as she stood there shaking. He almost felt bad as he saw the body language that seeming to be praying he would approve of her. That was, until Y/N watched his little sister tug at the towel and drop it around her feet.

It felt like the first time he'd seen her naked... wait, was it? His head was all jumbled up as she stood there next to the old green couch and turned a little bit, shrugging her shoulders sheepishly and causing her breasts to perk up for his view.

"Come here little sis," Y/N instructed her

She sidled over to him and Y/N immediately put his hands on her shoulders. The room was cold, and little goose-bumps were showing up on her skin, but his hands felt instantly warm.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Y/N assured her.

She smiled, nuzzling her head against his arm. Feeling some of the confidence of earlier that day returning to her.

"What if some other boy had decided to stop by before I could get here, huh?"

"Well I probably wouldn't have gotten naked for him, for one." Minju quipped, grinning.

"PROBABLY?" Y/N retorted.

"I definitely wouldn't have let him fuck me if that's what you're asking?" Minju implied. Both of them were quiet as they absorbed what she said.

Feeling mischievous enough, Minju moved her hand to the long bulge in her brother's sweatpants.

"Is that what you're here to do big brother?" she teased. Looking down in wonder at the path her hand was tracing along Y/N's sizable erection.

He couldn't resist any longer, Y/N had to get his hands on her, his lips, everything. With a hand around his little sister's waist and one at her neck, he pulled her toward him and joined their lips. At first it was pure need, lust and magnetism that drew them together, but as their lips slowly parted, Minju's tongue found her brothers in a way that inspired them to take their time.

Minju felt her sibling's hand move its way from her hip to her stomach, and then from her stomach to her ribcage. Finally, he reached her breast and he tested it's weight under his thumb and forefinger before grasping the entire thing.

"Uhhhhh..." Minju mewwed into her brother's mouth as he touched her, loving the sensation of letting him be in control. His desire was obvious, but his touch was gentle. Slowly he felt her up and she let them take awkward little steps backward toward the couch while still kissing.

"Oppa," she broke away as her backside touched the couch, "I've wanted this for so long," she whispered with their foreheads touching and his eyes watching her breasts mound together as he massaged them.

"Not like I said... not just to help you with your games," she continued.

Y/N lifted her up, so easily it scared her, and set her naked bottom on the back of the old sofa. When she looked up, his eyes were directly in line with hers. They could hear girls talking in the hall, ambling to and from the bathroom and getting ready to go out. In the room, it was only them, and nobody knew that beyond her door, a little sister now sat completely naked and hoping that her big brother would soon make love to her.

Y/N put his finger under her chin the way he had so many times before.

"Minju," he soothed her, "I know you have, because I have wanted you for longer than I can remember."

"Really?" She asked, with big puppy-dog eyes gazing up at him. "You're not just saying that?"

"Duh," he said, making her crack a smile, "and you're not just my little sister anymore, you're this beautiful girl who knows what she wants and knows how to drive me crazy and..."

Minju stopped him with a hungry kiss, grabbing his neck and pulling on it so he'd let her at him. He reveled in her haste, reminding him of how she'd actually been like that since she was little, whether he'd just complimented her for growing up or not. Except now, with her naked little body in front of him, he knew she had.

Her breasts, young but full, were very different after eighteen years. Her hips were more womanly, wider and tapered to from her toned abdomen. And those legs she was starting to wrap around him to pull him closer... Y/N knew they had not always been so alluring.

"I do know what I want," she said between kisses.

Without explaining, she reached for the bottom of her brother's sweatshirt and pulled it up before he could utter another word, his undershirt with it. She revealed his upper body and felt a quiver in between her legs as each inch of his abs, his chest muscles and his staunch shoulders all came into view.

Minju had only had sex the once, and still she knew that the extreme desire she felt as she looked at him was for him to use on her... in her..., what she had yet to reveal from his jeans.

"Slow down..." Y/N chuckled as he felt her hands move quickly to his belt. Her breath was so hasty that she could hardly keep kissing him. She managed to push his jeans down and leave her big brother standing in his boxer briefs before he made a move.

Her hand had found his cock almost immediately, attempting to wrap around it through his underwear. It felt so good that Y/N nearly allowed her to do what she must and not stop her, but he'd seen what he wanted next when he had first lifted Minju up onto the couch.

With her beautiful legs spread, she couldn't hide the bare, pink pussy that he hadn't quite gotten to admire yet. It was pursed shut by her soft, little mound but even that couldn't hide that Minju was getting wetter by the second. A light sheen had caught her brother's eye when he stepped back to take off his pants and he knew he had to kiss her there.

Only Y/N had ever touched her, and it had happened so unexpectedly in the hotel room at the away game; so when she saw in her brother's eyes what he intended to do, Minju once again felt her heart flutter; she was the center of his attention.

First, he kissed gently around her inner thighs. Even that elicited a moan from Y/N's little sis and her bare hips writhed, inviting him closer. He took his time, kissing and licking closer and closer to her sweet opening. Minju was positively desperate for him to put his lips directly against her when, she finally felt it.

Y/N dragged his tongue from the little drip of her fluids at the base of her opening all the way up to the tiny peak of her clit. The excruciating care he took, the gentle pressure of his tongue, It was like nothing she had ever felt before, and Y/N didn't stop there.

Slowly and deliberately, Y/N began sucking at her tiny bud to the tune of Minju's repeated gasps.

"Oh fuck Oppa, ohmygod..." she called to him, her diaphragm expanding and contracting involuntarily, "keep doing that."

Y/N smiled right against the cooing brunette's quim as he felt her fingers grabbing at his hair greedily while he stimulated her with his tongue. The sounds of his little sister's cries were so soothing after a whole day of hits and crowds and competition on the field. He'd been thinking of her every free moment, seen her on the sidelines, and imagined all of the things he wanted to do to her. Now that he had her, Y/N didn't care that she was being loud. The door was locked and Y/N didn't intend to stop making Minju moan for him.

In no time flat, Minju knew he was going to make her cum. And for some reason, even though what he was doing was incredible, Minju wanted to feel an orgasm with her brother inside her.

"Oppa, wait," she begged him. Y/N didn't want to obey, to stop her from having the orgasm she seemed headed for. "Please...uhhh... I want to cum with you fucking me."

She urged him up with her fingers behind his head. Even though Y/N didn't want to stop kissing and licking her, the thought of sliding his cock into Minju's wonderfully tight pussy was too much to ignore. At the game, he had hardly the time to realize what they were doing, or how willing and desirable the eighteen-year-old brunette was to him. Now she was all his for the taking, naked and waiting for his next move on the back of their parents couch. He could really take his time and think about what they were doing.

"I love you so much Oppa," she told him as he came up to eye level. She never broke contact with him as he told her the same, but he felt her hands pull his hard cock out of his boxers and shove his waistband down and out of the way.

Her hand could hardly wrap him. Minju couldn't believe that she had managed to fit most of his big penis inside her earlier that day but it didn't worry her; she wanted to savor it this time, slowly, more than ever.

"Ohmygosh Oppa you're big," she told him,

Y/N returned his hands to her perfect breasts and then pawed her body while she stroked him a few times. A drop of fluid lingered at his tip already; Minju smeared it against him with her thumb.

"I've been dreaming of this forever Minju'," he said, getting his little brunette's attention and gazing deep into her big green eyes. "Tell me what you want sis," he encouraged her.

"Mnnhhh..." she called out, bringing him close enough to touch only the very tip to her sensitive clit. She loved the thought of rubbing his pre-cum right against her and feeling her own fluids coat the head of her brother's cock.

"I want to feel your big...mnnhhh..." Y/N urged his hips forward so the underside of his tip pressured her clit, "hard...ohhfuck..." he withdrew and lingered unmoving, "...cock in my pussy Oppa," she dared him, "Fuck me however you want me big brother."

Without another word, Y/N felt his cock line up perfectly to do what she asked. Try as they might to withhold, Minju's taut lips gave way and her brother slowly pushed inside.

It felt considerably better than before, but Minju's pussy was so wet that her brother's cock was able to slide in half-way before she could protest. Y/N held his little sister fast as she tried to adjust to being impaled on his big rod.

Minju and her brother looked down together at where he was inside her. Her recently virgin lips, bare and glistening, were split wide with Y/N's cock halfway in. The room was bright, not like that tiny office; they could see and feel what they were doing without any hesitation or doubt.

It didn't worry Minju one bit. An hour before she had asked her brother for this, for him to 'play with her' on the very couch she could now feel beneath her, in her own dorm room with so many nosy girls moving about all around them. Yet, all she wanted was for her big brother to fill her as much as he could.

When their eyes met again with clarity, it was Y/N's turn to groan. His little sister was using her heels around him to pull his hips closer and slide his cock deeper inside.

"Ouuuuphhh..." Y/N breathed out. He saw his little sister smirk with mischievous pride as they came together at the hips. Somehow, impossible as it seemed, Y/N was buried all the way into Minju's young tunnel.

Joined at the hips, Minju's soft breasts pressed against her brother's chest; she could feel his powerful heart beating. Her head nuzzled against him and his breath tickled her ear.

"You can fuck me now," she whispered, "I'm ready."

Minju enjoyed a few more seconds of the embrace before she felt her big brother move. His cock slowly slid out of her, almost all the way before he urged it back in. She was so wet, Y/N realized, a wonderful assurance of how badly his little sister wanted him. The slick sound of his penis sliding against her inner walls reached their ears and it was wonderful.

Their hips met for the second time, then the third. Minju held onto her brother's neck and leaned back, pushing her chest out proudly as Y/N thrust again.

Her whole body was displayed before his hungry eyes; causing his hips to collide with hers less and less gently. Each time, the space just below her tiny abdomen bulged just a hint, showing the siblings just how deep Y/N's head was inside his whimpering sister's pussy.

'It's okay," she told him, "you can fuck me harder."

Y/N loved her for that; a few thrusts more and the eighteen-year-olds breasts were bouncing mesmerizingly before his eyes. Minju found herself unable to contain herself from crying out in pleasure. She'd forgotten how close she was from her brother's mouth, but she remembered now.

"OhhhOppa," she gasped as he drove into her again, "mmmnhhh...you feel so good in me."

Her big brother could hear in her voice and the adorable sounds coming out of her mouth that Minju was once again near climax as she had been before. He adjusted the angle of his thrusts just a bit; Minju shuddered and dug her nails into his shoulder.

"Ughhhh.. ohhhGOD..." she panted,

Y/N grasped his little sister's soft butt, sinking his fingers into each cheek and kept fucking her. Each time he felt her young pussy fully enveloping him, each beautiful moan and pant, he was reminded of how lucky he was to be inside his beautiful baby sister.

When Minju thought she could take no more, when her climax was approaching and she thought she might turn inside-out with pressure and sensation, her hands fought to stop her brother from impaling her over the edge.

But he wouldn't stop; he just kept driving into her and Minju was powerless to stop the orgasm from coming.

He kept fucking her, even as Minju cried out,

"OuuwhhHHHhhaaa..."

Her legs locked around him, still trying to stop him from making the climax any more intense, but Y/N wanted the opposite. Seeing his little sister cum with such uncontrollable passion was something he hoped to never forget.

She gasped for air, and when Minju suddenly grabbed for his wrists and locked her arms straight to push herself up and off of him as much as she could, Y/N decided to give her a break.

She shook, her whole body shook. Her skin crawled with pins and needles and her entire pussy convulsed around the more than half her brother's cock still tucked inside her.

Y/N was close to laughing he was so happy to see Minju cum like that, and to sense how helpless she must have felt as the orgasm wracked her body. Around his cock, little droplets of Minju's wetness were peeking out, a few of them onto that beloved couch they'd known for so long.

It nearly killed her, but Minju had to go limp and fall into her brother's arms so she slid what she had managed to retreat from of her brother's shaft back inside and let him hold her up.

Y/N listened to her deep breaths and felt her back heave as she tried to regain her wits.

"You jerk!" she breathed into his ear.

"What? What did I do?" Y/N asked, leaning back to try and look into her eyes.

"You made me cum so hard!" She whined, "I couldn't even control my body and you kept fucking me..."

Minju knew she was being silly, and so did Y/N. He simply held her and let her catch her breath, though his cock, still buried in Minju's tiny pussy, hadn't softened a bit.

When Y/N couldn't take it anymore, and Minju seemed to be recuperated from her earlier near-loss of consciousness, he withdrew from his little sister a few inches and urged back in to see how she would react.

She didn't protest, so Y/N made a different move. Minju yelped as she felt her brother's arms around her back and then suddenly she was being lifted up from the couch.

"Where are you..." Minju started, shivering and glancing behind her when she felt her back come into contact with the cold surface of the door.

Looking back at him, she could see the excited look in his brother's eyes. He'd never felt so free and uninhibited with a girl before, and the way his little sister grinned as he pinned her against her dorm-room door assured him that she was perfectly content.

Once again, Y/N's hips began to move, and before long so did Minju's. She was starting to get the hang of it, starting to understand how her brother's body worked and what the best way was to help them fuck like long-time lovers.

The way her body moved, how her stomach muscles tensed against him and her butt wiggled in his hands as he held her up was irresistible to Y/N. She was the sexiest girl he'd ever seen and now she was proving herself the same as a partner.

The door jiggered a few times as he fucked her against it, and the surface slid against Minju's back each time her brother thrust up into her.

"I love you," he panted in her ear, pounding her again, "uhhhh...I am so fucking crazy about you,"

Minju grabbed his head and pulled it toward her for a kiss. Their tongues attacked clumsily before she pulled apart to tell him she loved him too.

He manhandled her and fucked her so easily against the door that Minju was positively smitten and impressed. She reached up to grab the top frame of the door. She could feel her tits jiggling as they hung higher now and her brother continued his thrusts, unrelenting. She knew that sex could feel good, but she didn't know it could be so fun.

Minju felt playful, diving in and nibbling on her brother's ear. She wrapped her hands around his shoulders and squeezed tight. Her nipples grazed her brother's chest and she shuddered at the added sensation.

Minju was giggling and panting and moaning, totally letting go of her reservations and letting her body tell her how to react. Outside the door, some girls were laughing and standing nearby to remark on the noises coming from Minju's and Deborah's shaking door. If only they knew who was fucking her senseless on the other side; if only they knew that her own brother was shoving his big cock inside her again and again... what would they say then?

Hearing it too, Y/N pulled away from the door. Minju seized the opportunity to gyrate her hips and fuck her brother back a little. He stood still, letting her go as wild as she liked. She held on while he supported her above the waist and she worked her little hips as fast and hard as she could. It felt incredible to them both.

When he started to feel like she might be getting him close, Y/N spoke softly into his sister's ear.

" I'm close sis, uhhhfuck, I can't take you moving your hips like that much longer."

"Oh yeah?" Minju teased, "like this you mean?"

With an intent look on her face, biting her bottom lip and leaning back like a gymnast, Minju rotated her hips around on her brother's big cock and felt his tip prodding her as deep as he'd ever been.

"Ohgod... yes," Y/N answered, firmly grasping her hips to keep her from continuing her dangerous movement.

"We shouldn't Minju!" he admonished her.

"Why not?" she whined, "you already did earlier today... and it felt so good!"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him the most innocent, pleading face she could manage.

"Don't you want to cum inside me again Oppa?" she beckoned, pecking his lips to be even cuter.

"Didn't you like squirting all your sticky cum in me, in your little sister's pussy?"

Y/N was speechless. How could he tell her no? The way she was sticking out her bottom lip... the way her big green eyes were begging him the same way they did if she wanted something when they were little... It was so different now; his little sister was now his lover, with her beautiful body wrapped around him like a monkey. He wanted everything about her, every inch of her, and he'd already done it before...

Minju knew she had won as her brother carried her over to that shag carpet she'd felt so silly buying with her mom when they moved her into her dorm. Now it didn't feel quite so silly; it felt soft on her naked back when her brother set her down.

"You didn't know I was on the pill huh?" Minju asked naughtily as her brother positioned himself on top of her, "even when you came all over my pussy that night in the hotel?"

"I guess not," Y/N admitted, feeling guilty.

"It's okay, that was really hot...unhhh..." she let him off, cooing when Y/N slid into her as he hovered above her. "...I couldn't stop thinking about it all week."

"I wanna feel it again Oppa, go ahead," she asked, pulling needily at his hips with her feet,

"Fuck your naughty little sister and then fill me up with your cum,"

'Holy shit,' Y/N thought. It was so unexpected, Y/N had apparently opened Minju's eyes to being just as much a troublemaker as always, except now it included having sex with her big brother.

Immediately Y/N commenced sliding in and out of her. She was still dripping wet, her eighteen-year-old pussy had been waiting for this kind of attention from him for far too long.

Minju felt more full than she had ever before. Y/N was being less and less gentle, and Minju loved it. Over and over he shoved into her; she could feel his tip prodding her depths. Looking down, she wondered how it could possibly fit inside her.

But it did, countless times it did. When Minju looked up she could see the concentration on her brother's face and a look as if he was holding back. Her poor brother, all this and he was still too good to her to cum inside her when she asked.

"OhgodOppa..." she breathed, "I want it so bad."

"Fuck Minju', I'm so close," he told her. Minju knew it, and after being impaled so many times on her big brother's cock, feeling his weight as he buried inside her tunnel, she was too.

"Uhhhhhh..." she returned, "Cum inside me...unghhhh...cum in your little sister's pussy."

His motions became erratic, and suddenly Minju knew what was happening. Her brother's hips stopped their onslaught, pressed against her with his cock buried as far as it could be. As she watched his whole body, his big arms, rippling abs and even his neck tense-up she felt a gush of heat deep inside her.

From his head, Y/N shot forbidden semen deep into his little sister.

Holding the little teenager tight, he throbbed again, coating her cervix...

Again, he splashed her insides with sperm.

As soon as she felt it, there was an electric reaction in Minju's body. She hadn't expected it, thinking maybe her brother had worn her out before, but when the reality of her womb being flooded with Y/N's cum hit her, her little body went into a fit of sensation.

Minju gasped along with her brother. Again a wave of stimulation flowed from the places inside her being painted with her brother's cum to the synapses in her brain before firing out to the tips of her fingers and toes.

"Ohhhh Oppa," she called, "I'm cummmingggg,"

Blackness.

The room was perfectly bright, but Y/N and Minju could only feel each other as they lay on the rug being overcome by their mutual climaxes.

It felt like it would never end, or maybe Y/N didn't want it to. Every time he pumped another rope of semen into his teenage sister's pussy, she seemed to quake and pant again. He wanted to watch her like that as long as possible.

Minju's face was flushed, her eyelids fluttering with her head rolled back. Her chest heaved against her brother as he tried not to put too much weight on her. He felt weak, and he struggled to focus on anything but the squeezing sensation of little Minju's convulsing tunnel. Each time she breathed, her young quim ushered one more defiant rope of white from her big brother's cock.

Even when he had no more to release inside her, Minju's orgasm didn't seem to want to end. He could only watch her, wince when her tunnel massaged him again, and marvel at how beautiful she looked with the mane of hair about her head and the glisten of sweat on her cheeks.

She was something out of a dream: too adorable, too petite, too alluring to really be his little sister... his little sister who he remained buried inside on that dorm room floor. She finally spoke to him,

"I love you," she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

Y/N leaned down and kissed her collarbone, then her neck, her cheek and finally a peck on her lips.

"Love you too," he promised her back.

Minju finally opened her eyes. Seeing her brother above her brought a smile to her face. She felt wonderful... warm and protected under his gaze. He was still hard inside her and she could feel all that cum he'd squirted into her trying to work its way out, though it would have a hard time finding a way with how well her brother's penis filled her tiny tunnel.

Her brother: the now famous... well, somewhat famous quarterback that every girl would be dying to get their hands on. A guy who could have been out scooping up girls on that Saturday night. Instead he'd snuck into HER dorm room, spent the night with ONLY her, and from the way he was looking at her now she didn't believe he had any intention of seeking another.

"You made me cum TWICE...AGAIN!" Minju yelled, almost sounding like she was scolding him. Her brother laughed and then his face showed of pride. He'd never had sex like that with any past girlfriends.

"I know, I guess I just liked seeing you so much the first time."

Minju was running his fingers over his arms as they held him off the floor around her. She giggled when she saw Y/N staring at her breasts like he usually did.

"No," Minju corrected him, "it happened when I felt you cumming in me! It was like one minute I wasn't and then all of the sudden it was so warm and...fuuuuck!"

Y/N couldn't help himself, hearing his baby sister talk about the feeling of him cumming in her pussy, he simply had to shove a little harder against her. They were already touching at the hips but she could feel him push in just a bit more.

"Y/N!" She yelled, slapping her hand against his shoulder, "dooooonn't, I need a little time!"

She smacked him again when she saw him smile like he knew he wasn't supposed to have done that.

"Did you like cumming in me?" she purred.

"Um... duh," he retorted, making Minju roll her eyes.

"I guess that was obvious, you came so much! I can feel it like...everywhere."

It made both Minju and her brother look downward again. He was still lodged inside her and the knowledge was heartwarming to them. Y/N decided to finally withdraw, and though it caused his little sister to growl in protest, he slowly slid his cock out inch by inch; he'd put it back later.

The naughty brunette may have loved seeing her brother's cock inside her, but she had no idea how sexy it would make her feel to see what followed. Right behind Y/N's tip peeked a bead of white cum, her brother's cum, from between her tiny lips. Little by little it snuck out while they both watched. Minju wiggled her thighs together and it made even more sperm flow out.

Y/N marveled at his little sister's incredulous, open-mouthed stare. She looked like the little sister he remembered again, fawning over some present she hadn't expected to receive. It made him unspeakably happy to cause that feeling in her again.

Minju lay there with her brother's spunk working its way out, at least the amount of it that wasn't still spread over every little bit of the eighteen-year old's insides that there was to coat. When she looked at her brother again, she could see that the way she felt about it was mutual. They knew exactly what they had done, the evidence was plain enough: thick and white on Minju's thigh. They knew that they had done something forbidden that would change their relationship forever: the tangible passion between them revealed that. But most importantly, Minju and Y/N knew it was exactly what they wanted, like maybe they'd always been meant to end up as they were now.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Minju asked him sweetly.

"Ahhh, I don't know," Y/N said, raising his arms over his head and stretching, "I was thinking I might go out with the guys...:"

Minju scoffed, hurt.

Y/N let his teasing sink in, shrugging and letting her believe he might be serious. Finally he reached over and pulled Minju so she rolled partially atop him, flopping there like she had no intention of showing him any affection.

"Of course I'm staying with you Minju'," Y/N assured her. "You didn't really think I'd leave did you?"

"Well I don't know!" She said in a kind of sing-songy voice. "You're some kind of big-deal quarterback now, maybe you didn't want to be stuck in all night with your little sister or something."

"You're a little more than that to me now, don't you think?" Y/N asked. Minju was silent for a few seconds before looking up at him innocently.

"Just a little more?" She asked.

"A lot more," he corrected.

Minju and her brother lay there, thinking hard about what was happening between them and wondering longingly what might be next. Both of them were exhausted, so they slowly drifted off to sleep on that ridiculous shag carpet in Minju's dorm room.

It was hours later when Y/N awoke to find his sister spooned in front of him, clutching his arms and trying to wrap herself as much as possible within his embrace.

All of the realities came back to him at once. He was still in his little sister's room, she was still completely naked in his arms and little by little his erection was making its way between her legs until it pushed its way against the teenager's soft pussy.

"Mnnnnhhh..." Minju cooed sleepily, "what time is it."

It was still dark outside, it might not have even been past midnight. Most girls would be out of the dorms by then if they weren't staying in, so there wasn't a sound beyond Minju's waking breaths.

Feeling her against him, Y/N was helpless to prevent pressuring Minju's innocent mound. She hadn't done anything, but he knew she would feel the tip of his cock in that tantalizing gap between her thighs.

Minju was still sensitive from before, but she wanted him all the same. The feeling of her brother's cock hardening between her legs was so intimate that she sensed her whole body reacting. Without a word, Minju began rotating her hips to provide gentle touches of her inner thighs against the head of her big brother's unspoken contact.

'The way she moved her hips...ohhhman!' Y/N thought. Where did she get that? Did she know that it was the sexiest thing he could imagine? Somewhere along the line, his little sister whom he used to see as this awkward, all knees-and-elbows troublemaker, became irresistibly complicit in their forbidden act of incest. How could he have missed the way her teenage body had filled out, how her face had taken on model-esque features, and as he held Minju's squirming backside against him, how her most unspoken assets were now overpoweringly alluring.

When neither of them could stand it anymore, Minju reached down and gave her brother's desire the proper direction. Both siblings exhaled simultaneously, a sigh of relief at the visceral reminder of their unlocked passion for each other.

But the calm didn't last long, because yet another new position for the inexperienced brunette soon brought cries of ecstasy to each thud of Y/N's pelvis against her. Minju's hands grabbed the carpet, they reached back for her brother's hair, anything they could do to ground her as she approached another earth-shattering orgasm.

Y/N may have prided himself on stamina in the past, but he was no match for the panting, crying and writhing of his little sister. For the third time in however many hours, as she quivered and screamed her way through another climax, Y/N held his sister tight, buried deep in her sweet pussy and flooded her with cum yet again.

Minju cooed praises at her brother as she caught her breath, but he was pretty sure she fell asleep, exhausted, before he could even soften and slip out of her. She might have liked to look once more at the warm stream of her brother's spunk that found its way between her taut lips, but apparently she was content enough to know it was there as she drifted off without him. It was fine with Y/N, though; in the time it took for him to fade back to sleep, he got to hold onto Minju, caress her and marvel at the evolution of his unadulterated love for her.

When light began to peek through the old curtains of the dorm room and chanced across the carpet and Minju's pretty, slumbering face, it woke her from one of the most wonderful night's sleep she could ever remember. How many hours had it been?

Minju turned her head and smiled upon seeing her brother fast asleep with heavy arm over her. God was she crazy about him. Sometime in the future, she and her brother might have to answer some tough questions together, but now it just felt...right.

"Hey big brother," she called, wiggling against him.

Nothing. The big lug, he could sleep through anything. She gave him another jolt.

"Wake up, you big jerk."

Y/N smiled, infinitely happy that the first thing he heard when he woke up was his little sister's voice, and the first thing he felt was her naked body still pressed against him. Of course the second thing he felt was himself hardening.

So did Minju, but for once, reason got the better of her. If light was coming through the window, it was the morning. Depending on how early it was, girls would be stirring in the dorm rooms nearby. It wasn't uncommon to hear cries of passion coming from this room or that, but anyone who heard her last night would probably be curious who had been inside fucking Minju so thoroughly. Y/N had to get out before they were discovered.

She felt her brother's hand on her hip and rolled back toward him. He wanted her, again. It brought the same feeling within Minju to know his desire for her, but she couldn't appease him this time.

"We can't Oppa," she pled, "I know you want to but we can't."

Y/N was confused, he couldn't just NOT react to feeling the eighteen-year-old's toned butt against him or the breast his hand was draped across with her pink nipple gracing his palm. He pulled on her hip again.

"Oppa!" she said, rolling away from him and getting to her feet. Seeing her brother stare at her in admiration made her grin, but it was only for a second because she squinted her eyes at him and continued.

"It's the morning Oppa, you gotta sneak out!"

He hated it, but knew she was right. After all the noise Minju was making last night, he definitely couldn't be seen in the room with her by any of the girls who lived around her. Still he didn't want to give up the access to the naked little brunette standing over him. Minju helped him to his feet and then tossed his clothes at him while Y/N dressed.

She'd put on a silky robe when Y/N looked up from tying his shoes. He loathed seeing her body hidden from his eyes.

"So, things are going to be...like...different now, aren't they?" Minju asked hesitantly, standing a few feet in front of him.

"Different how?" Y/N replied, reaching out and pulling her close with hands around her waist. Y/N continued before Minju could worry any further.

"Different like: I've never felt about anyone the way I do about you?"

Minju's eyes brightened as he went on.

"Different like: I can't imagine that better sex with a more beautiful girl even exists?"

Minju blushed at that.

"Or different like: I know who the first person I call is going to be after practice today, hoping she'll be done with her homework so we can hang out?"

Y/N had gotten to his feet and was looking down into his little sister's eyes when she jumped up and wrapped her legs around him. She kissed him wildly, unable to contain her emotions and joy at knowing everything was going to get better and better with her brother.

Minju didn't even notice that he had walked her across the room until she felt the wall near the door against her back. Reminding her of how he had pinned her and fucked her intently against the door the night before, Minju considered throwing caution to the wind and asking him to stay.

But after a few moments, Y/N let her down to the ground. She stayed on her tiptoes, trying not to lose contact with his lips while he pulled away.

"Wanna go on a date tonight or something?" He asked the disappointed teenager.

Minju looked up at him and shook her head excitedly. Once he got her reply, Y/N turned towards the door and opened it to peek out. The coast looked clear.

Before he could swing the door open, Minju grabbed his hand and pulled it toward her. "Wait, Oppa," she said.

He turned back towards her and admired her gorgeous face for one more time that day. Y/N wanted to remember that cute, recently woken smile she wore during practice that day.

"I love you so much," she told him, once again.

Y/N leaned in for one more kiss on her cute little lips.

"I love you too Minju'," he responded sincerely.

Y/N paused a moment, thinking better of leaving without one more thing. He reached down and uncinched the ribbon around his sister's waist and swiftly reached up to push her robe right off her shoulders.

"There," he said, "that's better."

The image of the nude little eighteen-year-old, his own baby sister, and the wide-eyed, open-mouthed look of astonishment at his shameless act would stick with him for the rest of the day until she was back in his arms again.

Y/N made sure he snuck out of her dorm unseen. He rolled his eyes, overwhelmed knowing that his newfound popularity was going to make visits to Minju's dorm-room almost impossible after last night. Still, all the way home, all the way to practice, every free moment he got Y/N was thinking of Minju. Likewise, Minju spent the better part of her day dreaming of him.

Together, their thoughts were free from doubt or worry, instead full of hope and excitement for what would come next. There was going to be a lot to figure out between them, thought Y/N as he reached for his phone after practice, but he'd do anything to make it work. As Minju's heartbeat danced upon seeing brother's call, she answered knowing that somehow her life was headed in a wonderful new direction.

"Hey you!" she said first.

"Hey, sis, what have you been thinking about today?"

[sp4ceboo]

A/N: aaaaaand she's back (i had to get the hard thoughts out before i wrote a full length fic, i'm not sorry)

tw: 18+, smut (afab reader, fingering f recieving, piv sex, praise AND degrading ofc, angry sex, 1 spank, overstim, some dirty dirty talk icl, no protection oh dear), sometimes ken sato is a sad little meow meow but definitely not in this fic, they fuck in the basement but atp emi is on the island dw, tiniest weeniest bit of aftercare at the end

wc: 0.73k

kenji sato is seething.

tonight's game was one of the rare times when the giants had lost, and you can feel his frustration in the urgency with which he touches you, pushing you against the cool glass until your vision is filled with the sea outside, silver glimmers flashing in your eyes as fish dart by.

you can feel his frustration in the tension of his movements as he practically tears your clothes off you, and in the low grunt that sounds from behind you as he roughly yanks off his belt.

most of all, you feel his frustration in the way he runs his calloused hands over your skin, over your curves, grabbing handfuls as if to say this is still mine. i may have lost the game today, but i won this, i won her.

ken presses his hard chest to your back with the same fervor that he presses his mouth to the nape of your neck, tongue and teeth coasting over your skin. the glass is so frigid against your bare breasts that it's almost cutting, but you can't get away; he's right there behind you, raging, burning.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.

there's something addictive in the harsh way he grips your hips, the way he sucks bruising hickeys onto your neck - a promise that he'll fuck you until the loss is no longer on his mind, until all he can think about is your sweet, sweet pussy.

you can't help the pitiful sound that leaves you when he kicks your legs apart, his long fingers giving you less than a second to regain your balance before he's shoving them knuckle deep into your cunt.

'so wet for me, huh?' he asks, and you can hear the lingering venom in his voice. 'such a dirty fucking slut, aren't you? turned on because i'm angry? want me to use you, hm?'

'y - yes, ah, yes i - '

the rest of whatever you were going to say dissolves into a moan, your eyes rolling back as ken pumps his fingers in and out of you fast. you scrabble against the glass for purchase, mouth agape, pleas on your lips. he's unrelenting, giving you so much all at once, giving you no time to adjust, but you know that's how he wants you: floundering, trembling, overwhelmed.

you can feel his fingers curling inside you, cataclysmically so. his thumb is bearing down on your clit, rubbing tight, agonising circles, over and over, and all at once it's enough to send you over and you're shattering into a million pieces, his name a broken cry on your lips.

'that's it,' he croons as you come. 'my good little slut.'

not even a moment later, you feel the nudge of the blunt head of his cock, and you whine, knees weak as you babble at him that you're not ready yet, knees weak as he sheathes himself inside your still spasming cunt. tears come to your eyes then, and his hand cracks down on your ass, your whole body jolting in reply.

'you take what i give you,' he growls in your ear.

'please,' you sob. 'take it out on me.'

at your words, ken groans, low and deep in your ear. you mewl at the drag of his cock against your walls, gasping when he presses your body harder against the icy cold glass, burying himself inside you again and again, his pace punishing.

taking a fistful of your hair, he yanks your head backwards, arching your back more for him as he pounds into you. tears slip down your face as the pleasure turns sharp, overstimulation rubbing your nerves raw as his deft fingers find your clit and set you on fire.

effortlessly, he brings you over the edge again, and you're screaming his name, pussy convulsing around his cock as you writhe in his arms. his thrusts become faster, until you're sure he might break you, and then suddenly he's spilling inside you.

you moan as his strokes finally peter out, resting your sweaty forehead against the glass and going limp. one hand on your waist, supporting you, ken pulls out and scoops you into his arms; you nuzzle into his chest, tucking your head under his chin, and he kisses your hair.

'feeling better now?' you ask.

he laughs. 'of course. you take me so well, baby.'

[meowrimo]

☽◯☾ - SMOKIN' ACES

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : The ASL brothers know how to throw a good party and tonight was no different.

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. portgas d. ace x f!reader ; dubcon as they are high, descriptive weed use, shotgunning, surprise voyeur alert (someone might be listening...), unprotected sex, dry humping, use of pet names (baby, good girl), impact play if you squint — WC : 3.4k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Full Moon ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist

The basement was a cozy little spot that only the members of the house and certain special guests could be privy to. During the notorious parties, it was a safe haven, a place of refuge- Somewhere to get some air, get away from the noise, and regroup with the people who meant most to you.

It was full of little touches from over the years. A series of disjointed chairs and faded couches all in a circle with a busted coffee table in the center that either had a bong or hookah on it, ready for community use. 

Always playing chill music, full of wondrous paintings and vibrant murals that various friends have done — it was the clubhouse of all clubhouses and all run by the ASL boys themselves; Ace, Sabo, and Luffy.

The first member, the self-proclaimed founding member, is currently sitting next to you with a triumphant smile on his face, grinding up some weed. After the exhausting day at the beach, everyone has decided to go out to the bar instead of staying in for the night.

A part of you had wanted to go with them and maybe do a couple of shots and make out with someone for a little while. A night where your head was as fizzy as a champagne bottle and maybe you could get your mind off of a certain someone.

But then Ace had given you the look.

That look with those big brown puppy eyes of his that never failed to have you cater to his every whim — annoyingly so. 

So you find yourself here, in the still smoke-filled air basement that was full of character from a group of the rowdy young adults you’ve come to know so well next to the man you’ve been pining over since the day you met him.

“I can't believe you dressed up like the dude from Magic Mike.” You flick his cowboy hat up, knocking it back and giving it a slightly disheveled look.

“Not just any dude, I'm dressed as Dallas.” Ace shakes his head, focused on rolling another joint in his favorite strawberry-printed rolling paper for the two of you to share. The one you had earlier burned out with the group and Ace had promised you another if you agreed to stay behind with him

“You just wanted an excuse to be shirtless.” Not that you were really complaining.

“First of all, I'm not shirtless.” Ace patted the unbuttoned vest that loosely hung over his taut frame. “Second of all, I did it for the hat that you so rudely hurt.”

“My apologies then.” The sarcasm drips from your tone and Ace casts you a sidelong glance, sticking his tongue out at you before using it to lick the joint.

“At least I was creative.” He says, his dark eyes trailing along your body. Even though he’s clearly appraising the outfit and not you, a chill runs down your spine. “Weren’t you a cat last year too?”

“Shut up, you know that Luffy ruined the angel wings I was going to wear.” Ace hands you the joint in surrender, motioning for you to go first as he fishes the lighter out from between the couch cushions. 

You put it in your mouth, lips wrapping around the filter as the sparks fly. It illuminates the small space in front of you and casts a soft glow over Ace's freckled face. 

Suddenly, he felt a little too close. You take in the way he carefully lights it for you, his tongue peeking out as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as the flame catches the paper, his eyes flicker up to yours.

You inhale, begrudgingly taking in some of the smoke of the wrap before it cherries at the end, an influx of weed hitting your lungs harsher than you intended.

“Easy now.” Ace tries to stifle his laugh as you cough a little, your head still reeling from the close proximity. He takes the joint from your fingers, gently brushing his against yours before taking a hit himself.

Ever the show-off, the smoke barely leaves his lips before he begins to inhale it through his nose. He smirks at you as he does it, effortlessly inhaling the thick flume of smoke.

“You’re so lame for gatekeeping that trick by the way.” You huff at the man across from you, taking the joint back from him to continue your sesh. 

“I gotta have something to impress you, right?” Ace leans back on the couch a little more, eyes growing hazy and red as he watches you. His tattooed arm dangles off the back of the couch while you try not to take what he says to heart. But he looks back at you, head tilting a little so he peeks at you from under his hat. “But I suppose I can teach you something else.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Taking another hit, you let the smoke rush through your lungs and let it saturate every bit while it screams in protest the longer you hold onto it. Ace shifts ahead, leaning in so he’s closer to you and spreading his legs so his thigh brushes against yours. 

“You really wanna know?” His warm breath caresses your ear as he speaks, his nose barely nudging the lobe. The sudden seductive shift in his voice throws you off your axis and plummets you into his gravitational pull.

“Yes.” The approval slips out of your mouth with the rest of the smoke. 

Ace moves his face so it's in front of yours, his eyes scanning your features as he takes a hit. You’re not even sure when he grabbed the joint but you don’t question it. not when his fingers cup your jaw so sweetly.

“What’re you—“ The question dies out as he shakes his head. Everything feels tingly but the way he’s cusping your face makes it ten times worse, setting your skin on fire as your face heats up.

Carefully, he tilts your head toward him before he leans in. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against yours, his fingers pulling on your jaw so your mouth opens a little more.

With a direct softness you’ve never gotten from him, he blows the smoke out from his mouth and into yours. The weed coats your taste buds before his tongue slips into your mouth to steal it all away. His eagerness rivals the hit in a silent contest of who can take your breath away more.

Ace's hand doesn’t move from your face and he uses it to his advantage to kiss you further. If you thought your mind was fuzzy before, it was absolute static now as your twirls swirl together.

He grins against your lips, humming approvingly as you begin to kiss him back. But it was over far too soon and it takes everything in you not to chase his fleeting lips.

“So?” He smirks and pulls away from you, taking another hit as you try to catch your breath.

“What the hell was that?” Your thigh was still pressing against his but you couldn’t find it in you to move. Part of you longed to push further, to lean into him and melt into his searing touch. But your mind was still trying to play catch up from what just happened.

“Shotgunning.” He blows the smoke out straight into the air and your heart pangs with a strange jealousy. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” You bite your lip. Maybe a little too much. You pause, tasting the words on your tongue before you utter them. “I wanna try it again.”

Ace sucks in his breath, the smoke plummeting to his lungs as he takes in your wish. Coughing slightly, he sits up straighter on the couch and tries to gather himself.

“Yeah?” The gravely rasp in his voice swirls with the underlying desire and draws you in further. 

There’s no going back now.

“Yeah,” You nod slowly. Neither of you bat an eye as you slide into his lap, accidentally rolling your hips against his lap as you do. Ace lets out a choked groan of your name, shifting underneath you. “Ready?”

Galaxies bloom in his eyes as they light up, eagerly tilting his head up in anticipation. The joint sits on your lips before you take the hit, watching him under you as he looks up at you from beneath his dark lashes. Desire pools in your abdomen and before you can think about what you want, your lips meet once again.

It’s a blur between tongues as the smoke fizzles out. You’re not even sure if you did it right, but then again, it wasn’t really your main objective.

The joint disappears from your fingers and you can feel Ace shift to ash it out on the side table. Unburdened, his arms wrap around you and his hands splay across your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss.

Your lungs beg for reprieve but the taste of Ace’s sweet tongue is too addicting to let up. But he shows mercy and pulls away, suffering from the same affliction. 

Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, your brain fully saturated in something syrupy sweet that had your hips involuntarily moving again as soon as your foreheads pressed together.

The faint aroma of sea salt still wove itself in the tangled curls of Ace’s hair, filling your senses despite all the smoke that currently clung to the thick air. 

“Ace.” You gasp softly, the faint outline of his hardening cock coming to life right between your thighs. 

“Yeah? You feel that?” To further his point, he pushes his hips up against your overheating core. “Feel what you do to me?”

“Yes.” With every slow grind of your hips, you can feel him growing harder beneath you. The friction was rolling over your body like a wave hitting the shore, but it was fleeting. “I want more.”

“Can you handle more?” The smirk that dangles off his face has you wanting to roll your eyes but you relent. The craving for him was too much, threatening to boil over and fully consume you.

“I can.” You nod, lips hovering over his. “I want to try.”

Ace closes the distance, unable to curb his own carnal urges that run rampant in his body. The way your lips mesh together, tasting like weed and strawberry-flavored chapstick becomes something he knows he’ll get addicted to. 

Your fingers dance along his chest, teasing under the vest before landing on the buckle of his belt. All the while he reaches up your skirt, tugging on your panties and dragging them down your legs.

The rest is a blur of motion, but the messy way his lips move with yours is vivid. It’s almost jarring how much you can taste him, how much his grunts of approval seep into your skin and run through your veins

You pull back at an absolute loss for breath, panting against his mouth as his tongue pokes out to trace your parted lips. The bottom half of your clothes are gone and his are haphazardly halfway down his thigh. 

Ace's hand grips the base of his cock as you hover over it, pumping it and squeezing his tip as it leaks with pearly drops of precum. 

“You're gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?” His knuckles brush along your soaked slit, running along it back and forth, absolutely mesmerized as he waits for your answer.

“Yes, I'll be good.” The words are nothing more than a breath of air, your lungs squeezing in protest. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His tip prods your entrance, both of you throbbing as the last thread of self-control burns like a stick of dynamite. The slow, sparkling crawl of anticipation before everything explodes, lighting each other aflame in a whirlwind of desire. “You turn into such a little slut when you’re high, don’t you?”

“Ace.” You whine, watching the slow spread of his signature boyish grin take up his face. Warm palms rest on your hips, fingers gripping into your skin as he soaks up the absolute need in your voice. 

“What?” He chuckles lowly, his voice still raspy from the smoke. “All I'm saying is that — ohh shit…“

The rest of his sentence melts into a groan as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock.

“That’s it.” He groaned, his palms sliding to rest on your thighs to help guide you. It takes everything in him not to push you all the way down, letting you take your time as you adjust during your descent.

Everything stands still as he finally bottoms out, filling you up and stretching you out in ways no one has ever done before. The pressure is insurmountable yet it brings you a wave of pleasure that has your body singing for more.

“Holy fuck, you feel like heaven.” Ace practically moans at the way your silky walls clamp around him. His fingers move once again to grip your hips in a bruising hold, stilling himself from spilling into you immediately.

“Of course, you talk a lot during sex.” You let out a scoffed chuckle, clutching onto his shoulders as you spread your legs a little more and letting him sink in even deeper. 

“Aw, complaining already?” He gives you a lazy grin, slowly grinding his hips up against you. The steady throb of his cock melts your brain more than the weed did, the residual high becoming overshadowed by the man under you. “Or let me guess, you just can’t take a compliment?”

“Shut up.” You huff, rocking your hips before raising yourself back up. His cock partially slides out of you and glistens with your essence, coating it completely. Ace's eyes zero in on it, drinking in the sight before you ease back down.

“Fuck.” Ace's head hangs off the back of the couch as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. The hat he was wearing falls behind him, completely forgotten. His palms glide along your sides, sliding them up and down before cupping your ass and trying to speed up your movements. “Please, you gotta move faster.”

“Do I?” The gravity of the situation sets in, albeit a little delayed — blame it on the weed. But he was completely at your mercy. The pleading look in his eyes speaks volumes despite the cocky words he so rapidly fires off. You lean down, lips brushing against his ear. “Let me guess, can’t handle it?”

Ace's attention snaps back to you, almost fully alert now. The fog from earlier clears from his head as the words he uttered earlier echo from your pretty little mouth. A new challenge fires off inside of him and he was never one to back down from a fight, no matter the position. With a wicked grin, he thrusts his hips heavenward.

“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He murmurs, rubbing the plushness of your ass before giving it a subtle smack. Your body jolts and your chests crash together, almost every part of you is touching him.

The ever-steady rhythm of your heart spins on its axis, thrown off by the rapid beating that sets in syncopation and you can’t find it in you to care. Not when everything you’ve ever wanted is finally clicking into place.

Your bodies move in a euphoric sync, the ebb and flow of the melody you two orchestrate fills the room in a symphony of bliss. You were drowning into Ace’s very essence and in return, he did the same.

“Shit, baby.” Ace groans at the almost lazy pace. Each delicious drag of his cock had your eyes rolling back to your head. Anytime he twitched inside of you was like another jolt of pleasure — knowing that he was getting just as much enjoyment out of this as you was driving you faster to your end. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“What?” You’re completely breathless now. The confession takes away the last shred of oxygen and rips it out of your lungs. The languid roll of your hips doesn't stop though; your mind, heart, and body all chasing what you want in different ways. “Really?”

“God, yeah.” Ace's fingers slid under your shirt as he grabbed your bra-covered chest. “We need to take this off.”

Impressively, his pace doesn’t falter as he rocks up into you while his hand glides to your back and unhooks your bra. It only takes a few seconds for your chest to become completely bare and his head to find its home in the valley of your breasts.

His tongue trails everywhere. Your body burns under it, relief only pooling in the spot between your thighs and wherever he decides to lick away the flames. It cools you off, the words he said earlier filtering back into your mind as the smoke clears.

“I've wanted this too.” You gasp, bouncing a little quicker to prove how much you’ve needed this — him. Ace groans, teeth grazing the swell of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth to muffle the noise. “You feel so good, Ace.”

The candy-sweet praise has his head popping back up from where his tongue was swirling around your pert bud and looks at you, eyes trailing over your blissed-out face and the hearts that swirled in your eyes. 

“Come here.” Ace roughly grabs you by your ass, leaning further back into the couch as you tumble on him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, fucking up into you without abandon.

“A-Ace!” You gasp, trying to squirm away a little but the hold he had you in was too tight.

“Take it for me, baby. You said you would.” He moans. Both of your impending highs are heightened by the weed you inhaled only minutes ago. Pleasure rips through your body, sending it into tremors as your thighs shake. “Let go f’me.”

Your high washes over you immediately, body locking up as Ace continues to pound into you and chase his own release.

And it’s beautiful when he reaches it.

He comes with a choked moan of your name, his body tensing up and his fingers digging into your skin. His cock pulses before he completely empties himself into your greedy cunt with sporadic, shallow thrusts.

Both of you slump against each other, melting into the couch as your mind floats down from the clouds and into his warm embrace.

You pull back a little to admire his freckled face and can’t help but unleash the giggle that bubbles from your chest. It was contagious, as joy often is when you’re around him, and he can’t help but mirror you.

The two of you giggling in each other's arms under the shoddy string lights in the basement that has grown to mean so much to you — even more so now. 

The distinct squeak of the floorboard by the basement door sounds off, snapping you both back into reality.

“I thought we were the only ones here.” You sit up, hastily reaching for your clothes and throwing them on. Ace lifts his hips and slides his back on before kissing you on the top of your head and getting up. “Ace–“

“Stay here.” He turns around the corner and out of sight as he starts to go up the stairs. After a few steps in, the door opens and you straighten up. “Oh, it’s you. You little fucking perv.”

The sound of Ace’s boisterous laughter sounds off as two pairs of legs start coming back down. Every nerve is set on fire, anxiety ripping into your chest at the thought of seeing the person who had been listening in on you and Ace fucking.

But the familiar sight of blonde hair snuffs all the worries away, the dastardly pair smiling at you with devious intent.

“I had to pick up so I couldn’t make it to the bar tonight,” Sabo said with a grin, holding up the bag of weed he must’ve scored. “Must be my lucky day.” 

“Must be.” Ace scoffs, making his way back to you. He plops back down into his spot next to you, immediately mouthing at your neck before his voice curls around your ear. You don ’t break eye contact with Sabo as he stalks closer, placing the bag on the table before taking off his gloves. “What do you say, baby? Wanna let him smoke us up and show him exactly what happened down here?”

tags: @bontensh0e @autumnstuffs

[lalalychee-x]

"College boy." Rodrick Heffley x male!reader

THIS IS AN ABSOLUTELY GOATED request from 🌾🍞 anon!! I'M SORRY, ITS LATE!! Hope you enjoy though and feel free to give feedback!! Mwaaaaa asks always open guys, I love them!

cw: period-typical attitudes to being gay (not homophobia though), male/amab reader, older/college reader (21), kinda-rough making out, Rodrick in last year of highschool, so he's 18.

★ You are forced to come back home, stay at least a week during college break with your family. And you knew your sister had all the guys after her, but maybe leading on a guy who definitely was a joke to her was a bit much. You're just trying to help him out. You think so, anyway... click here for part 2

If you’d told Rodrick Heffley that he was gonna end up in the kitchen of a house that probably cost more than he’d make in his entire life — with another guy’s tongue in his mouth, no less — he’d have laughed in your face.

Not that he had a problem with gay people or anything. He was cool. Chill. Open-minded, in a way only someone who’d spent most of his life in a suburban basement with an eyeliner pencil and a drum kit could be. But him? Making out with some rich guy? Yeah, no way. Wasn’t gonna happen.

Except it was happening. Kinda. He just didn’t know it yet.

It all started when he got Heather’s number when he’d flirted with her outside the bowling alley, giggling behind their hands as they gave him the digits and told him to "swing by sometime." And he had. Of course he had. He was Rodrick Fucking Heffley. Girls loved him. Right?

So now here he was — standing on the porch of a massive house tucked into a dead-end road he didn’t even know existed until tonight. There was no answer when he rang the bell. No party. No Heather. Just silence, a pretty porch light, and a feeling that maybe, maybe, he was getting punk’d.

He was just about to leave — muttering under his breath about rich girls and their mean-girl cliques — when he heard that sleek convertible purr down the street.

You pulled up like you owned the whole goddamn block, engine shutting off with a smug little hum. You stepped out slow — lazy, bored — dressed in a leather jacket and black jeans that fit too well, rings on your fingers, hair still pushed back from your day, face unreadable.

Rodrick blinked.

You didn’t say anything right away. Just stood there on the sidewalk, one brow raised, keys jingling in your palm as you looked him over with the kind of stare that made his flannel and band tee feel suddenly...lame.

There was a second where you just stared at each other. He looked a bit like a washed up rat, sad, pouty and definitely trying to hide it. Then the guy let out a small scoff.

“You lost or something?”

Rodrick swallowed. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then shrugged, trying to sound like he totally had his shit together.

“I’m here to see Heather.”

The guy’s brows lifted slightly more. It was you, and you're honestly not going to let... what seemed to be a creep, stand outside and look for your sister. “Heather’s not home.”

“Right, yeah.” Rodrick scratched the back of his neck, voice dipping into that awkward fake-confident tone he always used when he felt like he was two seconds from being told to scram. “She invited me.”

A pause.

You gave him a look — something unreadable, amused maybe, maybe not — before stepping forward and sliding your keys into your back pocket.

“You’re Rodrick, huh.”

It wasn’t a question.

Rodrick stiffened. “…Yeah?”

You sighed like this was the most exhausting development in his week, then jerked his head toward the door. “C’mon. I’m not lettin’ you stand there like a creep all night.”

“What?”

You tipped your head, deadpan. “You’re just standing there. Staring at the door. Like a creep.”

“I’m not a creep, okay?” Rodrick shot back, bristling. “I’m here to see Heather.”

You gave a sharp little laugh under your breath — cold and amused.

“Right. Heather.”

Rodrick squinted, arms up in almost defence. “Wait. Who the fuck are you?”

You looked him dead in the eyes. "Her brother."

Rodrick's mouth opened. Closed. “…No the hell you're not.”

“Yeah. I fuckin’ am, hate this damn house so I barely come back from college,” you said, stepping past him like you lived there — because, well, you did. “And yeah, Heather’s a bitch. But you? You look like a fuckin’ Craigslist serial killer standing on my porch.”

Rodrick bristled again, like he wasn’t sure whether to be offended or impressed. “Dude. I’m just—”

“I know who you are, Rodrick,” you cut in, unlocking the front door. “She told me. Didn't expect you to be real, honestly.”

You pushed the door open and stared at him for a second too long. There was something sharp in your eyes. Not hostile. Just…assessing.

He wasn’t her type. Not even close. But something about the slouch, the messy eyeliner, the smug little grin trying to mask the awkward twitch at the corner of his mouth — it kinda was your type. Not that you were gonna admit that out loud.

You stepped aside, voice dry. “Well? You comin’ in or what?”

Rodrick swallowed and stepped past you, suddenly hyperaware of how much taller (even if not literally) you felt. How nice you smelled. How warm it was inside.

“…This is the weirdest fuckin’ day of my life.”

You just shut the door behind him with a little shrug. “Get used to it.”

You didn’t say anything else — just brushed past him, your shoulder knocking lightly against his as you headed down the hallway like you owned the place. Which, yeah, you did. Rodrick barely had time to adjust to how nice the fuckin’ hallway smelled before you were already halfway to the kitchen.

He followed, awkward and out of place, eyes darting to the high ceilings, the family photos, the spotless hardwood floors. The house looked like it came out of a magazine. He felt like he tracked in dirt just by existing.

You pointed at the dining table as you walked into the kitchen. “Wait in here.”

Rodrick paused in the doorway. “What am I, a dog?”

You didn’t even turn around. “I mean, you showed up uninvited and you look like you bite 'nd have rabies.”

He opened his mouth, ready with a half-assed comeback, but you were already at the fridge, grabbing a can of something cold and cracking it open without looking his way.

Rodrick lingered for a beat before making a decision. Slowly — maybe a little stubbornly — he pushed off the doorframe and leaned against the kitchen counter instead, folding his arms across his chest, doing that thing where he stared at the floor like he wasn’t affected by anything at all.

You turned slightly, side-eyeing him with an amused little smirk.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait at the table?”

Rodrick didn’t budge. “Yeah. And I didn’t.”

Your lips twitched.

Huh.

He really was that kind of kid. All bark, too much eyeliner, and barely enough spine to hold up the act — but he was trying. You could tell from the way his jaw flexed, how he refused to look at you, as if meeting your eyes would confirm something neither of you were ready to admit.

You took a slow sip of your drink, leaning against the opposite counter, just watching him.

“This how you usually get into people’s houses?” you asked, voice lazy, teasing. “Show up lookin’ like you rolled out of a Hot Topic clearance bin and challenge the older brother to a pissing match?”

Rodrick’s ears flushed red. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding once. “You look disappointed.”

“I’m not.”

That smirk turned into a grin. “Sure.”

You let the silence stretch for a second, your gaze dropping to the edge of his jaw, the way he clenched his fists a little tighter when he felt you looking.

He was cocky. Slouchy. Barely legal and probably running on Monster and the fumes of delusion.

But shit — cute.

And way more fun to mess with than Heather's last boyfriend. Not that you believed he was Heather's boyfriend at all because NO WAY.

You tilted the can back and let the last of the drink slurp loudly, obnoxiously, like you were doing it on purpose. Rodrick flinched at the sound.

Then you turned, casually tossing the empty into the recycling bin like you’d done it a hundred times (you had), and cracked open the cooler on the floor beside the counter. The soft hiss of ice shifting echoed as you rummaged through it, then pulled out something in a blue-and-silver can — cold and probably cheap. Smirnoff Ice. A college classic. Trashy, sugary, everywhere.

You straightened up and glanced at Rodrick.

“You eighteen?”

Rodrick blinked. “Uh—yeah.”

“You drink?”

He froze for half a second — just half — but it was enough.

You snorted, laughing as you popped the tab on your can. “Yeah, okay. That’s a no.”

He huffed, defensive. “Didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” You crouched again, this time deeper in the cooler, your hand pushing past bottles of water and chilled energy drinks until you found a can of orange soda and stood, tossing it across the kitchen.

“Catch.”

Rodrick’s eyes widened — he caught it, barely, fumbling for a second like it might’ve hit the floor and shattered his already-fragile pride. He cleared his throat and turned the can in his hands like it offended him.

You watched him with lazy amusement, sipping your drink, leaning one hip against the counter again. “You’re lucky. If you dropped it, I would’ve kicked you out.”

Rodrick scoffed. “No, you wouldn’t’ve.”

“Try me.”

The kitchen was quiet again, save for the fizz in your drink and the hum of the fridge.

Rodrick cracked the soda open, took a slow sip, and stared at you over the rim. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes did — a flicker, a shift. He was trying to place it. The way you talked, the way you stood. How old were you?

You let the moment linger before you said it.

“Twenty-one.”

Rodrick blinked, straightening a little.

“Just turned. Last month,” you added, tapping the top of your can. “Heather threw a fit ‘cause I wouldn’t let her come to the bar, y'know? Gotta tell her to stop whoring it.”

Rodrick flinched, taking another tentative sip.

You looked at him again, head tilted slightly. “That what you were thinkin’? How old I was?”

Rodrick choked on his soda a little. “What? No.”

You grinned into your drink. “Sure.”

Rodrick lingered near the kitchen counter, pretending like he wasn’t eyeballing everything in the room. The granite countertops, the fancy-ass stove that probably cost more than his van, the wine rack built into the wall. Who the hell lived like this?

You noticed him looking.

“Don’t steal anything,” you said, lazily sipping your drink.

“I wasn’t gonna.”

“Sure. You got that feral look. That ‘I eat cigarettes for breakfast’ vibe.”

Rodrick rolled his eyes. “At least I don’t drink Smirnoff Ice. What are you, a freshman girl at her first frat party?”

You barked a laugh, full and sharp. “That’s cute coming from the guy holding a Fanta like it’s a beer. You want a paper straw too, princess?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Only when my mouth’s full.”

Rodrick froze for a second. Your grin widened. He looked like a raccoon caught chewing drywall.

You leaned back against the counter again, arms crossed, casually sipping your drink like that hadn’t just slipped out on purpose. The tension in the room shifted — still playful, but tight, electric.

Rodrick huffed and looked away, muttering, “God, Heather’s whole family’s insane.”

You cocked a brow. “And yet you showed up.”

“Yeah, well—” He paused. “Thought she gave me her number.”

You smiled, slow and dangerous, and started walking toward him — not threatening, but steady. You placed your drink down on the counter and kept moving, until Rodrick backed up just slightly, hips bumping into the edge.

“You really believe she gave you her number?” you asked, both hands coming up to rest on either side of him, boxing him in. Not touching — yet. But close. Close enough to watch him squirm.

Rodrick faltered. His voice dropped a little. “...Well. I mean. Not anymore.”

You laughed again, warm and low. “Poor thing. Got punked by a couple of high school girls.”

He rolled his eyes and looked off to the side, trying not to look at you. “Whatever.”

You tilted your head, eyes flicking over him. “So what? You into her? That your type? Bitchy blondes who call you names and pretend you don’t exist in public?”

Rodrick scowled, brows furrowed and squinting. “Says the guy who is related to her.”

“Touché.”

There was a pause. Then—

“If it doesn’t work out with her,” you paused, “you could always get with me instead.”

Rodrick choked on nothing.

“I—What?! Dude, I’m not— I’m not gay.”

Your eyes glittered. “Didn’t say you were.”

He floundered. “I mean—not that there’s anything wrong with—whatever—but I’m not—”

“Relax, man.” You chuckled, real low and easy, tilting your head a little closer. “No one’s asking you to get on your knees.”

He swallowed. You could see the flush creeping up his neck, fighting the smirk he was trying not to let show.

You leaned in just a little more.

“...Unless you want to.”

Rodrick made a quiet noise in his throat — something between a scoff and a nervous cough — and set the Fanta can down behind him on the counter. Not because he was finished, but because he needed an excuse to look anywhere but at you. The fizz hissed faintly as it settled.

He scratched the back of his neck. “You’re messing with me.”

You smiled, real slow. “Am I?”

“You gotta be,” he muttered, eyes on the countertop now like it held all the secrets of the universe. “I mean. That’s what this is, right? You’re just fuckin’ with me.”

“Rodrick.”

You said his name like a joke and a promise in one breath. The way it dropped from your mouth made his stomach flip in a way he didn’t like. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure.

He looked up at you finally, jaw tense. “I’m not… like that.”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

“No, I mean— I’ve never—” He faltered. His hand made a vague gesture between the two of you. “This isn’t my thing.”

“But you’re still here.”

Rodrick’s mouth opened. Then closed. Like a fish. An angry fish. A flustered, horribly aware he might be into something fish.

You tilted your head, stepping in just a bit closer — still not touching, but you didn’t need to. The tension was thick enough to sink in.

“I’m just saying,” you murmured, voice low and amused, “if it doesn’t work out with Heather… you’ve got options.”

Rodrick cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh—well. I—I’m not…”

He trailed off. You waited. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes flicking briefly to your mouth before he immediately looked back down at the floor like it burned him.

Then, quietly — barely audible:

“…Have you ever kissed a guy?”

You blinked. “Me?”

He nodded, sheepish. Still not looking at you. “Yeah.”

You raised a brow. “A couple times. Why?”

Rodrick didn’t answer. But he was chewing the inside of his cheek now, face pink, breath shallow. Hands shoved in his pockets like they might anchor him.

You stepped in just a fraction closer.

“…Wanna know what it’s like?”

If you’d told Rodrick Heffley that he’d lose his footing on his sexuality in the middle of a rich guy’s kitchen, with the house dead quiet and a guy’s mouth hot on his, he would’ve thrown a drink in your face.

Not because he was homophobic or anything — Jesus, no. He was punk, not a dick. It was just… him? Doing this? Never crossed his mind. Not until now. Not until you.

You were Heather’s brother. College-aged. Intimidatingly hot. Driving some sleek-ass convertible like you owned the damn moon. And now here you were, pushing him back against a cold marble counter, lips crashing into his like he was a fucking challenge.

And he liked it.

Rodrick grunted as his lower back smacked the edge of the counter, the sudden jolt making him gasp into your mouth. One of your hands slid down, rubbing over the spot gently in a rare flicker of comfort before it curled around his hip, pulling him back in.

It was messy.

Your mouth tasted like cheap spiked lemonade and something bitter. Beer, maybe. He’d never had alcohol before — not like this. Definitely not off the mouth of some guy he just met. It was a little weird. A little electric.

His hands fumbled awkwardly at first, catching the hem of your shirt, one sliding around your shoulder as if trying to find something solid to hold onto. Because he was TOO aware he looked like an idiot right now.

Your fingers found the edge of his studded belt, tugged him closer with a harsh yank that made him groan. His hips twitched. His whole body felt like it was catching fire.

He was… hard.

Embarrassingly so.

Rodrick stiffened, trying not to grind into you, but failing when your hand slipped lower to press at his back — guiding him in.

He gasped again. “Shit—fuck, uh, I didn't—”

“Relax,” you groaned actually annoyed with yourself when you should be feeling triumphant, as you kissed down to his neck, your own breath starting to hitch. “You’re not the only one.”

Rodrick's eyes widened slightly as he felt your crotch against his hip.

Oh.

Oh.

Well… shit.

You two stared at eachother a bit more until you slid your hands under his stupid band tee, both hands on his hips. You're surprised—you thought he would be a bit scrawnier. Not that he was built by any means,

Your mouth was back on his again — teeth catching his bottom lip this time, dragging until he hissed. Rodrick’s fingers clenched in your shirt, dragging you impossibly closer, hips twitching without meaning to.

“F-fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, shaky and stunned. “What the hell is this—what are we—”

You didn’t answer. Just kissed him again. Rougher. Meaner. Like you were trying to make up for every second wasted being normal around him.

“Look, do you want to do this or not?” Your hands were braced on his hips, and his belt buckle was digging into your palm. It was all metal and heat and confusion and want.

Rodrick's mouth opened, in nothing but a shakey breath.

Then— BANG BANG BANG.

A shrill, angry voice cut through the house: “HELLOOO? OPEN THE DOOR?? I FORGOT MY KEYS, WHERE'S MOM—”

You pulled back with a sigh, forehead dropping to Rodrick’s shoulder. His chest was rising and falling way too fast for how little space was between you.

He was flushed. Breathing hard. Lip red from biting. His hair was sticking up like he’d just been electrocuted and he looked fucking wrecked.

You grinned.

“Sounds like your little crush is home.”

Rodrick blinked at you, still half-dazed, lips parted. “Jesus Christ…”

You pushed off the counter slowly, casually fixing the hem of your shirt as if your dick wasn’t half-hard in your jeans and you hadn’t just kissed the guy your sister was supposed to be prank-dating.

“You comin’?” you asked, already walking down the hall.

Rodrick huffed, slamming back the last of the soda he’d left on the counter before following, muttering under his breath, “I fuckin’ hate rich people.”

And that was ironic because he was pretty well-off himself.

The door swung open and Heather practically exploded into the entryway, voice already halfway to a screech.

“Ugh, finally! I thought I was gonna get murdered out there, do you know how sketchy the suburbs are at—” She cut off mid-sentence, blinking hard. “Wait. Was that—was that fucking Heffley??”

You leaned against the doorframe, still slightly flushed, your knuckles brushing the curve of your bottom lip like you were trying to wipe away a smirk. Your eyes followed Rodrick’s retreating figure down the driveway, watching him fumble to get into his van like his legs forgot how to work.

You didn’t answer your sister. Just called out toward the driveway, voice syrup-smooth,

“Come back some time!”

Rodrick paused, mouthing what seemed suspiciously like 'fuck you' and then yanked the door shut behind him harder than necessary.

He was mumbling prayers and he barely even listened in church. I mean, he wasn't praying because he thought he had sinned or something — he was pretty sure Jesus would be fine with gay people.

No, he was praying because he was sure he just met the devil reincarnated.

Heather turned toward you slowly, eyebrows climbing toward her hairline. “Seriously. Seriously? What the hell was that?!”

You shrugged like it was nothing. Like you didn’t still taste him on your tongue.

“Dunno. Might stay back for the rest of the holiday.”

Heather blinked. “You’re deranged.”

You just grinned wider.

click here for part 2

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

divider creds: @cursed-carmine

[thatweirdbitchjax]

Can you write a muti slasher with an s/o that does this ⬆️

I belive you mean that they eat kinda lasily so that what I'll write. :)

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Art the Clown, Nubbins Sawyer, Bubba Sawyer, and Chop-Top Sawyer

Tired Eater

Art the Clown

Genuinely leaves you there

Tries to wake you up by snapping in your face

^gives up about five minutes later

Can't be bothered to wait for you

Will leave you there and come back later to pick you up

Tries to mime at you to get you to hurry up

Thomas Hewitt

Is very worried

Taps his momma's shoulder to ask her what to do

^Gets told to try and help you eat at least a little bit, then lead you up do bed

If Hoyt even tries anything, Thomas is chuncking him into a wall

^Fr, he got grounded (he wasn't allowed to see you for three hours)

Takes all the beatings for you

At first he thinks it's heat exhaustion so he tries to make sure you're not over-working yourself

^And god forbid he find out Hoyt is making you push yourself way past your limits

Nubbins Sawyer

You think you can be tired at a table with this guy?!

You are highly mistaken

He is, without a doubt, hooping and hollering, shaking you, shaking the table

He's shaking everything to keep you awake

Drayton yells at him a few times to cut it out

I like the idea that Drayton is a lot sweeter towards you rather than his brothers, so if you are still trying to eat after everyone else is done, he'll come over and gently shake you, tell you to go on up to bed, and that he's got the dishes tonight

Nubby doesn't understand why you're feeling this way, but he will grab you like a koala grabs a tree and hold onto you all night long, just to (try) to make sure you get enough sleep (should I start writing a series about how they sleep?)

Bubba Sawyer

So worried

He, like Thomas, is also worried that you might have gotten heat exhaustion

Despite Drayton yelling at him not to, he grabs you and carries you down to the basement with your food, hoping that it would be cooler down there so you could eat

He sits with you and helps feed you as well, hoping to help you feel better

He starts doing his chores quicker so he can start helping you with yours, hoping you won't get so exhausted

Chop-Top Sawyer

Again, he is hooping and hollaring, if you can still be tired through that, then even I'm worried about you

It kinda ends in the same way as Nubbins, however he is more worried about you then Nubbins

He knows a bit more, and knows it can still be pretty hot, so you probably have heat exhaustion

He tries getting you a fan, laying down on the floor with you (you ended up just falling asleep) but eventually, he just shook you awake and fed you

^Wouldn't suggest that tho as he can get kinda finicky when anywhere around your face, so he will start shaking and probably accidentally stab the roof of your mouth with the utensils he was using to feed you :|

Anyways, hope you enjoyed. Sorry it took me so long. I have another ask in my box that I will start working on soon.

@puppet200 @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @zeroisreallygood @im-a-simp898 @artsycrow46 @evry1h8s-me @aflairforthemelodramaticc @caretaleandotherstuff

[cloudzoro]

Fate | Buggy x reader x Shanks ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: smut, nasty nasty smut (minors dni) and a tiny little bit of fluff at the end

pairings: buggy x reader x shanks

wc: 13.3k

cw: fem!reader, bartender reader, semi public sex, a lap dance, a LOT of dirty talk, biting, piss kink, omorashi, so much oral, jealous!buggy, buggy is actually really sweet, brat tamer shanks, spanking, pussy slapping, spitting, some parts are dialogue heavy, buggy's detachable dick, shanks lowkey has a clown fetish, squirting, overstimulation, aftercare, love confessions

masterlist | one piece masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your childhood friends, Buggy and Shanks, both found your bar around six months ago and have been hooking up with you ever since. The connection the three of you have runs much deeper than mindless sex so you finally get them in the same place at the same time so you can fuck like animals and confess your love.

a/n: I'm so fixated on buggy right now i literally can't think of anything else

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You're just starting your evening shift at your bar when a familiar hat and blue pigtails comes sauntering into the building.

“Hi, Buggy,” you call, and your old friend wanders up to the bar with a grin on his face.

“Hi, sweetheart. We’ll have whatever you got. We're celebrating tonight,” he says. You nod and signal to one of your security guys to go down to the basement and get the big barrels you're not strong enough to carry. You don't need to worry about any trouble at the bar when Buggy and his crew are there, though you worry that one day he'll be here at the same time as the actual pirate whose protection you're under.

The small island your village is on is under the jurisdiction of red-haired Shanks. Your mayor hasn't officially accepted Shanks’ offer yet. Still, you have a feeling that with all the business their pirate crew brings to your village—buying from your local farmers and frequenting your bar—he'll formally accept when Shanks returns from his next voyage. The lack of permission from your mayor doesn't matter to Shanks; he's ultimately just using this island as a base to place you under his protection.

You, Shanks, and Buggy were all on the same pirate ship as youngsters. You'd been impossibly close, inseparable at all times. After they'd had a falling out at the site of your former captain's execution, you'd refused to pick a side, and Shanks had taken you with him so he could drop you off at a quiet island where you leave your pirate life behind you.

However, after Shanks and Buggy had made a name for themselves, your history of piracy had worked its way into your present. Shanks had been the first to find you, having been the one to drop you off, and wasn't surprised to see you now owning and running one of the bars in your village. He'd walked in by himself and jokingly asked if your bar was pirate-friendly. Your security guy was about to launch forward but was stopped by you, who had called his name and ran around the bar to launch yourself into him. He hugged you back with one arm, and you welcomed his crew into your establishment. Your staff were on their best behaviour that day and respected you more after finding out you were close friends with one of the emperors of the sea.

Buggy had accidentally stumbled upon your bar but was beyond shocked to see you. He had initially threatened your village, but upon receiving a smack and stern talking to from you, he gave up embarrassingly quickly and asked politely to frequent your bar. You allowed him, glad to see him alive and warned him that you were under a different pirate’s jurisdiction. You ordered your staff to be hushed about the pirate being Shanks, so you don't scare off Buggy.

Since then, they'd been coming to your island intermittently, competing with each other without even knowing. Shanks knows there's another pirate who sometimes docks up on your island, and Buggy knows another pirate is trying to lay claim to your land, but neither of them knows it's the other. How they've avoided each other for this long is a mystery to you.

“Hello? Sweetheart?” Buggy's voice draws you from your memories, and you look up at him with a smile. What're you smiling at? You weirdo,” he says, reaching over the bar to flick your forehead. One thing both Buggy and Shanks never grew out of was their childish teasing. Buggy, in particular, likes to wind you up. Whenever you would tattle to your old man, Rayleigh, about the boys teasing you, he would insist that it was because they had a crush on you.

“Nothing, Buggy. I was just reminiscing about the old days,” you say. He rolls his eyes and calls you a sentimental fool. Buggy turns his attention to the bar behind you. He detaches his hand from his body and reaches for the top-shelf whiskey. He's too much of a lightweight for it. You know that much, so you snatch it back and scold him for using his power to rob you of money. You never realised how differently you view your ‘lovers’ compared to everyone else until your staff asked how you have the balls to tell them off and flirt with them, fearing losing a limb for messing with an emperor. Buggy begrudgingly listens; you're the only person he can't bring himself to argue with. He can tease you and wind you up until the cows come home, but if you look genuinely upset, he fills with guilt immediately.

Your security guy comes back with a barrel of cheap booze and helps you set it up. You start to serve it up, beginning with Buggy and then calling over his crewmates. You ensure everyone is served before returning to cleaning glasses and steins to ensure you're on top of things.

Buggy keeps a keen eye on you as you move around the bar, busying yourself with odd jobs. You can feel the clown watching you, and you feel your skin heating up. Your friendship with Shanks and Buggy has always been more than platonic, especially now that you're all grown adults and you own a bar. They're always sneaking you off on breaks or taking you home after to fuck you. They're very different in the bedroom; Shanks is confident and in control, whereas Buggy takes care of you, but ultimately you're in charge. Buggy’s an emperor of the sea now, so you're curious to see if that's helped his confidence. Insecurity usually had him doubting himself in the bedroom, leading to him easily bending to your will for a bit of praise. He appeared to be more sure of himself when he walked in, so you take that as a good sign.

You're focused on the bottles behind the bar when you feel a tug at your skirt. You look down to see a hand creeping under your skirt. The hand slides around to squeeze your ass, and you turn around to see Buggy, handless, staring at you. His hand works its way to the front and slips beneath your panties, collecting your wetness on his fingers. You want to scold him, tell him off for touching you in public, but the predatory grin he's giving you right now is turning you on so bad. Typically, if you told him off, Buggy would drop to his knees and ask to eat you out as an apology, but you're curious to see if his boldness can translate into something more dominating.

You ask your friend to cover you while you go on a break. Buggy follows you as you round the bar and go through the back door to the staff-only area. He wasn't subtle about it. You know most of his crew just saw him go in here.

Buggy catches up to you when you're near a staff storage room, and he attaches his hand back right in time to push you into the room and turns you around to back you up against the door. He immediately attaches his lips to yours. His kiss is heated and messy, hot tongues pressing against each other. Buggy’s hands come up to squeeze your tits through your top, and he drops his kisses to your neck. You were thankful he had come in without makeup tonight, so you don't have to explain to your staff how your neck ended up covered in red lipstick. It happened to you once and was embarrassing for both of you, so you appreciate the consideration. He drops to his knees, kissing your thighs, and as his hand reaches for your panties, you stop him.

“Bug, wait. My break is only ten minutes. We don't have time for all this.” You say, pulling him up by his hair. “Just fuck me properly”, You whine, pulling him into a kiss. He lets you guide it before you get tired of messing around. You want to see how his status as an emperor and newfound confidence has changed the way he fucks you.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, turning you around and grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“Yes, and I want you to fuck me hard. You're a Yonko now. Where's all that power and aggression?” you ask. Your teasing question works; Buggy's voice is barely above a growl when he responds.

“You wanna see my real power?” he asks, punctuating his question with a slap to your ass. This is exactly what you've been waiting for with Buggy. You nod, and he turns you back around again. He doesn't look mad. There's no dark glint in his eye, and he just looks excited. You know Buggy, he'll never be a hard dom, but you just want to see more control from him, and that is exactly what he's showing. “I need words.”

“yes. I want you so bad.” Buggy smiles at your consent, leaning against the storage cupboard wall. He pushes you down on your knees and undoes his belt and trouser button.

“If you suck my dick for me right now, I promise I'll take you back to my ship and destroy your tight little pussy” You nod and waste no time reaching up to free his cock from his trousers. Buggy laughs at your eagerness. He doesn't receive this kind of sexual attention much, so you tend to fluster him, though he's not letting it show tonight. When you finally get his hard cock in your mouth, he moans embarrassingly loud. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling as you work him into your mouth. He's all too aware of the fact that he'll cum down your throat the second he makes eye contact with you. “What would people say about you if they opened this door to see you on your knees for a pirate captain? And an emperor, no less,” he says, hips bucking into your mouth slightly as he gets closer to his orgasm. “What would Shanks say if he saw you like this?”

You moan around his cock at the question, and his hips stutter forward, breaking his rhythm. His cock harshly hits the back of your throat, and you gag slightly, pulling off of him. He uses his grip on your hair to pull you back to his cock. You want Shanks and Buggy to fuck you together more than anything. He's never spoken to you like this before, making you gush.

You slip a hand between your legs as you take his cock back into your mouth. Buggy finally looks down at you and groans when he notices what you're doing.

“Are you really touching yourself to the thought of red hair catching us?” he asks, scoffing. “I bet a horny slut like you would want him to join in” You know, Buggy's just as attracted to Shanks as you are, and you feel his cock twitching in your mouth at the mental image of sharing you with him. It doesn't take him much longer to cum. He cums down your throat and helps you wipe off any stray drops of cum that missed your mouth. He pulls you into a kiss as you tuck him back into his underwear and zip up his trousers for him. Buggy almost looks embarrassed at how quickly he's cum, but he quickly gets over it when he realises how turned on you are.

“I'm the boss here, you know. I can cut my shift short if I want to,” you say, pulling him in for another kiss. Buggy feels a stirring in his stomach when he kisses you. It's been happening for years; he chalks it up to being impossibly horny and refuses to look further into it. You go back into the bar and tell your staff that your shift is over, and you trust them to lock up. As you walk back to the Big Top with Buggy, he tells you stories about what he's been up to since he last left your island.

Buggy brings you onto his ship and down to his captain's quarters. As soon as you're in his space, the door is swung shut, and Buggy all but pounces on you. He pulls you into a rough kiss, walking you to the middle of the room. You occupy his thoughts all day, every day. He fantasises about your pretty self putting on a show just for his eyes. He sometimes wants to ask you if you can dance and see if he can ask you to give him a private performance. He’s finally got a chance to fulfil multiple of his fantasies at once, so he doesn’t hesitate in taking it. He pulls away, breathing heavily. He sits down on his throne, which has been pushed up against a wall, and leaves you standing in the middle of the room.

“Take it off for me, give me a show,” he says, leaning back. “make it flashy.”

You start with your top, taking care to remove it slowly. You feel one of his hands squeeze your tits. You whimper at the stimulation, and Buggy laughs. You carefully push your skirt's waistband over your hips until you can drop the garment to the floor. You turn around and hook your fingers in your panties, pulling them down your legs. You go to kick off your heels, but Buggy's hand grabs your ankle to stop you.

“keep ‘em on,” he says. You turn back around to look at him and see he's shirtless, hair down, palming his hard cock through his trousers. You notice he's become more like Shanks now that he's trying to take control. His hand grabs hold of yours so he can drag you over to where he's sitting. He pulls you to his lap so you're straddling him. He guides his cock to your entrance and kisses your neck and shoulders as you take him to the base. “ride me, baby,” he growls.

You obey, lifting your hips upward and slamming them back down. You both moan at the way his cock feels dragging against your walls. Buggy soaks in your pretty noises as his fingers dig into your hips to guide you.

You lean down to capture Buggy in a kiss, tilting your head to avoid his cute nose. Kissing Buggy always feels like you're unravelling a secret; the big scary clown pirate emperor is really just your silly man who wants to take good care of you. You feel close, and you start to drag your hips, grinding down on him. You whimper into the kiss, prompting a laugh from Buggy, who uses his grip on your hips to hold you in place while he fucks up into you.

“I'm gonna cum”, you moan, dropping your head to his shoulder.

“Yeah? Go on then. Make a mess for me”. All it takes is a few more thrusts to reach your high. Buggy watches intently as your orgasm crashes over you. He groans as you scratch at his back. He manages to hold off his orgasm as you come back to your senses. “Can you give me another one?” he asks.

“Didn’t you promise me you were going to destroy my pussy?” you say, pulling him into another kiss.

“I did, didn't I?” he says, before moving forward and laying you down on the fluffy rug spread across the floor. He's on his knees, hovering over your body. He pushes his cock into you again, groaning at how sensitive you both are. He braces himself with his elbows on either side of your head, and then he starts to fuck you properly. He grunts in your ear as he fucks you down into the floor. His cock fills you up so well that it is almost embarrassing how you whimper about it. Buggy loves the rush of adrenaline he gets from fucking you. How you cling to him and whine about how good he feels makes him feel like he could do anything. Your hands fly to his hair as he rearranges your insides, and he moans as you harshly tug at his hair. “That's it. Let me know how good I'm fucking you.”

Your second orgasm hits you like a freight train. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you gush around his cock. His orgasm follows closely behind, and he bites down harder as he fills you up with his cum. He tries his best to fuck you through both of your orgasms, and when your walls finally stop pulsing around his cock, he slips out of you carefully. He cleans you up with tissues and then carries you to his bed. He changes into pyjamas and then climbs into bed with you.

“Stay here for tonight. I'll take you home in the morning,” he says, moving a piece of hair out of your face. Buggy is not typically so affectionate with you after you sleep together; he’s never mean to you, but he’s never this soft. It makes you wonder what's changed.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” You ask, cuddling up to his chest.

“Nope, we still have one more day here.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Buggy returns to your bar again the next night. He’s doing his usual routine of staring at you, drinking less than all of his crew and waiting to get you alone so that he can fuck you. He’d reminiscing about his previous trip to the island after you’d left the ship that morning, and he’s been having shameful thoughts about trying a specific gross kink with you. You and Buggy had hooked up before. You're no stranger to his wilder kinks, but there's still one that he's been keeping from you up to this point. He thinks he's finally got you comfortable enough to try it. He's been trying to buy you drinks all night, but you've insisted on being a good little bartender and drinking water instead, which was his plan all along. You don't realise Buggy has only had one drink, wanting to stay sober for what he's going to do with you tonight.

He overhears you complaining to one of your coworkers about needing to piss, and his cock twitches in his trousers as he thinks about the night he saw you piss yourself.

It had been an accident; you'd been out drinking with him, and there wasn't a toilet around, but you didn't want to go outside, so you had to try and make it to the next bar without pissing yourself. You were almost there when you felt it start to come out. You made a run for it, and Buggy followed you to guard you. However, he didn't turn around to check for onlookers. He just shielded your body from view with his own. He was too busy staring at the puddle you were making on the floor as you pulled your already-wet underwear down so you could go in the alley. It should have been gross, but he couldn't look away. He couldn't stop thinking about burying his face between your legs.

He hears you ask your coworker to cover you so you can go to the bathroom, and she denies you, saying you close in ten minutes and asking you to hold it. The way you whine in response reminds him of how you whine to him when he teases you. He turns around, facing you. You're standing behind the bar in little black shorts, a crop top and heels, driving him insane. He's grateful for your bar's questionable short and all-black dress code.

After ushering the Buggy pirates out of the bar, you rush through your cleaning and leave your coworker to lock up. You step outside the bar and are met with Buggy waiting for you, leaning against an opposite wall. He's watching the way you walk over to him with a grin on his face. You're wobbling, desperate to piss, and trying to hold it in. You're fidgeting, and it makes Buggy laugh. You scold him, which he pays no mind to before lifting you over his shoulder and carrying you to your home, which isn't far from the bar.

As soon as he's in the door, he puts you down and watches as you run towards your bathroom. Like the predator he is, he lures you into a false sense of security by encouraging you to go to the toilet while he puts your stuff down. However, when you get to the bathroom door, you're greeted by one of his hands holding it closed. You try to get it to let go, but it's no use. Buggy is stronger than you. You scream Buggy's name in anger, and suddenly, his hand is joined by the rest of him.

“Can I help you, sweetheart?” he asks, feigning ignorance and moving his hands to your hips now that his body is blocking the door.

“Please move, Bug. I need to go so bad. It's not funny,” you whine, nearly in tears from the pressure on your bladder. Buggy pulls you into a messy kiss, and when you pull away, he expects to see you glaring. Instead, you're looking up at him with teary eyes and the cutest little pout. He wants to ruin you. “I need the toilet,” you whimper.

“There's one right here,” he says, patting his thighs, and you immediately stop struggling in his grasp. You look up at him in bewilderment.

“That's not funny.”

“I'm not joking,” he responds, leaning down to kiss your neck. “If you think it's too gross, I'll move, but I want to feel you let it go so bad.” He groans into your ear before resuming his kisses. He can tell you're thinking it over.

“What about the mess?” You ask, voice shaky and unsure.

“I'll clean it up.”

“Okay,” your voice is small and desperate, but having your permission launches Buggy into action. He lifts you and carries you over to the guest bedroom that he sometimes crashes in when he's docked here. He dumps you on the bed and helps you strip down to your underwear. Your hands instinctively fly between your legs to cup your pussy, but Buggy is quick to swat them away. He grips the back of your thighs and pushes your legs up towards your chest. Buggy leans down to kiss your stomach, leaving red lipstick marks in his wake. You moan as you finally start to relieve yourself. Buggy leans back, gaze fixed on your cunt.

“Yeah. That's it, baby. Let go for me,” he encourages as he watches you make a mess of your underwear, the sheets, and his trousers. You almost hate how good it felt. Buggy leans down to kiss you, but it's a kiss full of aggression and desperation. “That was so fucking hot,” he growls into the kiss.

He pulls away from the kiss to stare at you, from his makeup all over your skin to your soiled underwear; he wishes he had a camera on him right now. He reaches down and pulls your underwear off, tucking the soaked fabric into his trouser pocket to take with him when they depart from your island. Your exposed pussy has him drooling, and then he hears you whimpering for him to do something other than stare at the mess you made. He can tell the embarrassment is starting to creep in, so he leans back down to your face, shushing you and kissing your lips. He savours the kiss, knowing you probably won't kiss him for the rest of the night after what he's about to do.

Buggy drops to his knees on the floor and drags you closer to the edge of the bed. He then dives right in, licking and sucking at your pussy. He buries his tongue in your hole, moaning loudly at the taste. He'd fantasised about doing this to you for months, but none of his dreams come close to how it feels to have you with him right now, indulging in his dirtiest fantasy. He drags his long tongue back up to your clit and suctions his mouth around it, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud. You're so close to cumming, and with the relief you've already had tonight, you feel tears start to pool.

“Please, Buggy. I'm so close,” you moan, bucking your hips up into his face. Buggy's hands hold you in place as he sucks harshly on your clit as pushes two fingers into you. You moan and arch your back as he fingers you open. His tongue feels so good, and the extra stimulation of his fingers has an orgasm washing over you easily. You moan Buggy's name as tears roll down your face. He's completely focused on drawing your orgasm from you. He licks at every drop that leaks from your sweet pussy.

When you've calmed down, Buggy rises to his feet. He stares down at you like he's staring at his last meal. Your makeup is just as smudged as his. Your skin is covered in remnants of him. You're a vision of pleasure, panting and drooling as you come down from your intense orgasm. Buggy commits the sight to his memories. He towers over the bed, reminding you of how big Buggy is.

“You ready for me?” he asks, detached hands groping your body. When you nod and give him permission to fuck you, he grins something evil. He attaches his hands and manoeuvres you up the bed so your head is against the pillows. He wastes no time pushing his cock into you; if you haven't woken up the neighbours yet, then you definitely will when Buggy starts to thrust his hips. “You look so pretty under me,” he coos. “I should take you to sea with me so I can fuck you on my ship every day,” he says. You know you're close; you feel the tension building inside you. Buggy knows it, too. He can feel your pussy clenching down around him. Right as the tension is about to snap, Buggy pulls his cock out of you, stopping your orgasm in its tracks. You cry out in frustration.

“It's okay, I got you. I just need you to turn over for me,” he says, helping you turn onto your hands and knees. He slowly pushes his cock back into your waiting pussy. He slides a hand over the skin of your back, and then he pauses. He spots the mark on the back of your shoulder. It's a love bite Shanks had given you during your last hookup a few days prior to Buggy arriving. “Who else are you fucking?” he asks, filled with rage. You want him to continue, but you're unsure how he'll react to hearing Shanks' name after all this time.

“Bug, listen-” He doesn't listen. Buggy’s insecurity and the feelings for you he's mostly ignored have risen to the surface. He drapes his whole body over yours to speak directly into your ear.

“If you want to cum, you better tell me who else has been inside of my woman” His voice is low and threatening, and it has you gushing and clenching around him.

“Shanks,” You say, trying to move on Buggy's cock that's still inside of you. Buggy goes completely silent, not growling and panting like he had been seconds ago. It's like his rage has been quelled.

“red-haired?” he asks in shock. You nod the best you can while being squished underneath him. You're expecting another spell of rage, but you feel Buggy's smile against your skin instead. “you promise it's only us?”

“Yes, Buggy. I promise. Now please make me cum” you whimper. Buggy gives in immediately, rutting his hips against yours with reckless abandon. If anything, he's more passionate and determined to make you cum after finding out you've also been with his self-declared nemesis.

“Cum for me,” he says, voice easily cutting through your moans. Your body obeys him without question, slamming face-first into your orgasm like you were made just for him. He cums along with you, pulling out and spilling over your back. Once you've both finished, he reaches for the tissues you keep on the bedside table and wipes his cum off your back.

He then carefully picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat. He starts running the shower. As he waits for the water to heat up, he brushes his teeth and tongue with the spare toothbrush you keep for him. He jokes that you can kiss him now and laughs when he looks down at you to see you puckering your lips. He indulges, pressing an overly dramatic kiss to your lips. He tries to calm his heart when you laugh at his silliness, but he can no longer deny his feelings. To distract himself, he ushers you into the shower so he can clean you up properly. He's got both of you clean and in your bed within no time.

He lies next to you in bed, indulging himself in the domestic side of you despite knowing he's got to leave for another voyage tomorrow. He lets you press kisses all over his face and ask him questions about his adventures that he's more than happy to fill you in on. After a while, a comfortable silence fills your bedroom, and Buggy thinks you're finally going to fall asleep so he can leave. He's not quite so lucky; amidst the silence, you raise a hand to cup his cheek and say something that makes his heart feel like it's about to burst out of his chest.

“You're so pretty without makeup, Bug” He's not used to these kinds of compliments, and he buries his face in your neck, grumbling at you to ‘shut the fuck up and go to sleep.’ You listen, giggling as you get comfortable against your pillows.

You hear Buggy call you the most precious jewel on the grand line and realise he must think you’re asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up and embarrass him so you keep your eyes closed as you take in his sweet compliments and confessions he could never say to you whilst awake.

When you wake up, Buggy is gone from your bed. You check the guest room to see new sheets have been put on the bed, and you look out the window to see your soiled sheets freshly washed and on the line. You smile to yourself as you go downstairs to make breakfast for yourself. Both of your men now know you're sleeping with both of them and if your calculations are correct - and all goes well on their voyages - then both of your men will return to your village on the same day.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few days pass, and your shifts feel boring without your pirate men bothering you the whole time. You had taken to dressing up a little more for work just in case one of them comes back early and walks into the bar while you're on shift.

Tonight, you're wearing a black minidress and thigh-high boots. You know you look good, having spent 10 minutes staring yourself down in the mirror before leaving the house. Neither of your men showed up at the bar. You'd heard whispers about a pirate ship docking up and gotten your hopes up. You swing open your front door, sulking over the lack of your not-yet boyfriends. However, when you wander through the door, you notice a tall figure blocking the doorway to your living room. At first, he startles you, but you give him a warm smile when you finally realise who it is.

“Hi, Mr.Beckman”, you say, offering him your hand, which he presses a kiss to. He informs you that his captain is waiting for you in the living room, and then he takes his leave after apologising for invading your privacy. You tell him he's welcome anytime and thank him as he leaves your home, leaving you with the red-haired man you find sitting on your sofa.

“Shanks!” you yell, surprised that he's come home a day early. He stands up to catch you as you run into his arm. He picks you up and spins you around, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “You're early”, you point out.

“We were ahead of schedule, and I wanted to see my girl,” he says, pulling you in for a proper kiss. ��this dress looks so good on you”, he groans into the kiss before pulling back and asking you to do a twirl so he can check you out properly. He whistles lowly as his eyes take in every inch of your body, all dressed up for him.

“I wore this for you. I've been waiting for you to come back. Why don't you come see what's underneath it?” you say, guiding his big hand under your dress. When Shanks finds his path to your cunt, unobstructed by any panties, he laughs. He moves his hand from your dress, smoothing down the skirt of your dress and then lifting his hand to your chin to tilt your face towards him.

“As much as I want you to give me a proper welcome home, I need to talk to you,” he says, pecking your lips and sitting on the sofa. Shanks pats the space next to him, and you sit down, tucking yourself into his side. “I heard rumours kicking around that my sweet girl has been getting cosy with another pirate”, he says, and you roll your eyes at him, partially because he won't be mad when he finds out who it is and partially because you're not exclusive with either of them.

“It's Buggy,” you say, swinging a leg over Shanks to straddle his lap. His momentarily stormy expression relaxes when he hears the name of the third party in your trio.

“Buggy?”

“I know, I was surprised too. It's like fate is trying to keep us together. I've always belonged to you guys,” You say, grinding your hips down over his hardening cock. Neither you nor Shanks have ever been shy about how you feel about Buggy, but he was always too prideful to admit his feelings. Shanks is smiling now that he knows you haven't been disloyal to him. “he'll be back tomorrow if everything goes to plan,” you say.

“I'd bet you'd like having us both together, wouldn't you, baby?” he teases, bucking his hips upwards and knocking you forward into his chest. “you'd like to take both our cocks in this slutty pussy” The addition of Buggy, though he's not physically there, has ignited Shanks. He's launched into action, talking filthy in your ear as you grind your bare pussy over his crotch. “But you'll have to deal with just me tonight. Is one cock gonna be enough to fuck my greedy girl?”

You nod frantically, adjusting yourself so that you're grinding against his thigh. He chuckles at your eagerness and guides your hips over his leg. You ride his thigh as he leans back into the sofa cushions and watches you. He keeps his hand settled on your hips as you drag your pussy over the muscle of his thigh. Shanks notices you're getting close to an orgasm and tightens his grip to stop you from reaching your high. You whine in protest, and he can tell you're about to start complaining, but he cuts you off himself.

“I want to taste your cum”, he says, pushing you to stand up. He laughs as you stand on wobbly legs. He tugs at the bottom of your dress, signalling for you to take it off while he removes his clothes. He pauses between removing articles of clothing to watch you shimmy the dress down your pretty body and kick it off. Seeing you naked is better than any treasure Shanks could find at sea. Once he's naked, he lies back against the sofa and then beckons you back over to him. “take a seat”, he instructs, helping you straddle his face without falling off the couch.

You lean forward, taking a testing lick at his cock as his tongue makes contact with your pussy. He wastes no time shoving his tongue into your hole and licking at your walls. You moan loudly as you begin to take his cock into your mouth. His cock is thick, and it tests the stretch of your pretty lips. Shanks moves his tongue so your clit, licking and sucking at it as you start to bob your head.

You're both laser-focused on making each other cum. Shanks suctions his mouth around your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he makes out with your pussy. Considering he only has one arm, his grip on you is steady as he holds you in place. You try your best to take his cock as far as you can, and when you take him to the base without choking, you feel the vibrations of his moans against your pussy. Shanks is always vocal, letting you know how good you are.

You start to struggle when you get close to your orgasm. You can't focus on sucking him or bobbing your head while you're moaning and whimpering.

“OK, baby. That's enough,” he says, squeezing your thighs to keep your attention on his words. “Just let me make you cum”, he says, pulling back down to his face once again. His grip is sturdy and keeps you steady as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. He loudly cleans up every single drop from your cunt. Your tense, shaking muscles don't phase him as he holds you in place. He only lets go once he's sure you're done.

Shanks helps you up before standing up and grabbing your hand, letting you pull him through the house and into your bedroom. He lifts you with one arm and kisses you before planting you onto your bed. He tells you to lay back against the pillows, and you follow without question. Shanks climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

“You're so beautiful”, he says, staring at your naked body so intensely that his gaze has you shifting in discomfort.

“stop staring at it and just fuck me” you whine. Shanks looks up at you with a dark grin that reminds you of who you're dealing with. You've had your soft, warm welcome home, and now it's playtime. Shanks is far more in control than Buggy; riling up Shanks isn't as easy. A little bit of attitude and lack of manners is a good start.

“You wanna tell me what to do, princess?” he asks, you know it's a rhetorical question but you answer anyway.

“I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just giving you a heavy-handed suggestion,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but you know he's enjoying it; his cock is hard and leaking. He uses his strength to turn you over onto your hands and knees. Once you're in position, he lands a smack on your bare ass, making you gasp.

“How's that for heavy-handed?” he says, massaging the area he had smacked to soothe it.

“More”, you sigh, “Please, Captain”. He groans at the title. You had taken to calling him captain in the bedroom; it is his official title, and it's a reminder of his strength and power. He obliges, giving you a few more swats on the ass before rolling you back over so you can lean your head against the pillows.

“Do you misbehave for Buggy too, or are you a good girl for him?” he asks, leaning over to look into your eyes. He knows your answer is going to annoy him when he sees the cocky smile that settles on your face.

“It's neither. Buggy is a good boy for me,” Shanks laughs, not at all surprised by your confession. “Although he did take charge last time, I guess being a yonko boosted his confidence,” you said, smiling while remembering your most recent time with Buggy. Shanks is still looking at you with his eyebrow raised. “And I was good as gold for him”, you tease, tangling your hands in his red locks and pulling him into a kiss.

“You can behave for other men, but you can't help yourself with me," he says, pressing his fingers to your mouth. You obey his wordless instructions and take them into your mouth. Now that you're gagged, Shanks can speak without backtalk, and your pussy drools with every word that leaves his mouth. “I was going to be nice; fuck you nice and slow and make love to you, but you just can't help running this bratty mouth. I missed my sweet girl and her perfect pussy, but now I have to deny myself to teach you a lesson.” he pulls his fingers from your mouth, waiting to hear a quiet “sorry, captain” from you.

When you apologise, he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs in circles, chuckling at the way you moan out and open your legs. He pushes two spit-soaked fingers into your hole and warns you to keep still as your hips buck up into his hand. You try your best to stay still as Shanks, who holds an unbothered expression on his face, plays with your pussy. He rubs your clit with his thumb while he fingers you. Having one arm has aided with his fingering skills. He hasn't set a rule on volume, and he never has; in all the punishments he's given you, he's never cut off your ability to tell him how good he makes you feel. He's too enamoured with your voice to gag you for more than two minutes. You moan and whimper and beg for him to speed up. The stimulation he's providing you with feels so good, but it's not enough to send you over the edge.

His cock is red and drooling precum. You know he's as desperate as you are, but he's holding himself off.

“Don't you wanna feel good, Captain? I can jerk you off,” you say, reaching out towards him. He shakes his head, pulling his fingers from your cunt only to slap it, fingers smacking harshly against your clit, making you yelp. You're so close to cumming.

“thought I told you to keep fucking still”, he growls, returning to his task of slowly fingering for you. He looks up at your face, expression faltering at the tears starting to pool in your eyes. “Just be good for me, sweetheart,” he says, his voice softening. His cock twitches when he hears you say an obedient “Yes, Captain.”

He speeds up his fingers, fucking you right close to the edge and then stopping as he feels your walls start to spasm around his fingers. Having your orgasm ripped away from you prompts the tears to start falling. Shanks leans down to kiss away your tears, whispering about how pretty you look. You know what he wants to hear.

“I'm sorry, Captain. I promise I'll be good,” you beg. Shanks smiles softly, pressing his fingers to your entrance. “Please, I need to cum. I promise I won't be a brat.”

Shanks cuts off your begging by kissing you, messily pushing his tongue into your mouth. He pushes his fingers back inside of you and thrusts, curling them against your walls.

“Cum whenever you want,” he says against your mouth, intimidating demeanour gone and replaced with your sappy, loving man. You cum with a cry of his name, legs attempting to close around his hand. He works you through it, cooing at you as you gush around his fingers. He pulls his fingers from your pussy and licks them clean as you regain your breath. “tastes so fucking good.”

You watch him intently as he spits onto your pussy and uses his cock to spread it between your folds. You're still sensitive and the feeling makes you twitch. Shanks smiles at you as he pushes his cock inside you, pressing kisses on your face as you whimper at the way his cock stretches your pussy. He starts to thrust, making you arch against him. Your hands reach up to his hair as he sloppily makes out with you. When he pulls away from the messy kiss, you whine his name.

“What is it, princess?” he asks. You wordlessly open your mouth, tongue lolling out. Shanks doesn't need to be told what you want. He spits into your mouth, whispering praises as you swallow. “See what happens when you're a good girl for me?” he says, kissing you again.

Shanks is committed to making you cum, hips laying heavy thrusts as his cock all but splits you open. His lips trail over your skin like a fountain pen on paper, signing his name in invisible ink. His voice has your mind reeling. You feel delirious. You're close already, and Shanks can tell.

“Wait for me, baby. I'm almost there”, He groans, feeling the first signs of his own orgasm. You're not sure if you can hold off any longer, and you tell Shanks as much as your nails cling to his back muscles. He gives you permission to cum, and you fall right over the edge along with him. Your pussy spasms around his cock, milking him for all he's worth while you gush around him. He says something to you, but all you can make out is your name. As you start to calm, Shanks stays inside you, laying his full body weight on you.

“you wanna know something, baby?”

“hmm”

“I've been in love with you since we were eleven,” he says like it's nothing. You go to protest, but he cuts you off to continue. “Buggy is too.”

“This is just the pussy making you talk crazy,” you say, too tired to deal with Shanks's bullshit.

“Nuh-uh. Bug and I used to talk about it whenever you went crying to Rayleigh that we were picking on you.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“We found our way back to you, didn't we? Do you really think we'd be using this tiny island in the middle of nowhere as a base if we weren't obsessed with you?” He says, hand-drawing patterns over your skin.

“Whatever. Just pull out and go to sleep” You huff, and Shanks does as you ask, gently pulling out of you and rolling onto his back. He waits for you to roll over before tucking himself against your back, pulling flush against his chest. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and lets you get comfortable. Just as he's about to drift off, you softly call his name.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Say I do love you back; what would happen?”

“Honestly, not much. We'd just be official. We can stop acting like this is just sexual. If Buggy can man up and admit his feelings, we can admit nothing between us was ever casual, and it was always supposed to be this way,” he says matter of factly. You nod, turning over in his arm so you can Bury your face in his chest.

“Good night, Shanks.”

“Good night, Baby.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next morning, Shanks follows you around town like a lost puppy, shadowing you as you buy groceries for the bar. He helps you carry the bags back and even helps you put away your bags when you get back. He can't help but sneak kisses between tasks, not being discreet about your feelings for each other. He's also more antsy than usual; he's sticking close to you, looking around like a meerkat and absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your top when he isn't carrying something for you.

“Are you okay? You're not usually this antsy,” you say, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead like you're taking his temperature.

“I'm just keeping an eye out for Buggy” It's kind of sweet how desperately he wants to include Buggy.

“You'll hear him before you see him,” you say, making Shanks chuckle fondly. “And that probably won't be until later tonight. When he docks up here, I usually don't see him until my shift,” you inform him. Shanks nods, chilling out with your words.

A couple of his crewmates are already drinking in your bar as you clean up, so you're ready to open. Shanks’ men are nicer to you than Buggy's. Beckman is always a gentleman; he's even played security guard for you several times, kicking out patrons who wouldn't take no for an answer. When you ask Yasopp to lift his feet so you can sweep under his table, he swings his boots onto the chair opposite him with a sharp salute and a “yes, ma'am” that has you rolling your eyes.

In comparison, Buggy's crew aren't as welcoming. His business partners have never caused any problems when he's brought them in. Crocodile and Mihawk were initially intimidating, but you won them over with your selection of wine and the knowledge that you were once an apprentice of the pirate king. Alvida was happy to have another woman to talk to after being stuck with Buggy for so long. Outside of those three, his underlings had been rather cold, and you've occasionally had to shut down the bar due to their rowdiness. You dread the two crews meeting tonight and hope the relationship between the captains can enforce an amicable atmosphere between the crews.

Your coworker comes in to complete the opening and leaves you to get ready in the staff room. Your outfit consists of a black mini skirt and a matching black top. You've already done your hair and makeup, and you know Shanks is going to have a hard time keeping his hands off of you until Buggy shows up.

As you walk back into the bar, your heels clack against the wood floor. You get a few whistles from Shanks' crew, and you're all but ambushed by the red-haired man himself, who basically corners you against the bar. His crew are no strangers to the affection between you and Shanks, so once they're done teasing their captain, they leave you be. Shanks wraps his arm around you, complimenting your outfit choice.

“Do you think you can behave yourself until Buggy gets here?” you ask as Shanks' hand cheekily slips beneath your skirt. You're suddenly reminded of Buggy doing the same thing to you with his hand. You roll your eyes at the similar tastes of your men.

“I don't know. You look good enough to eat”, Shanks growls, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek with an embarrassingly loud ‘muah’ noise that has your coworker fake gagging behind the bar. Shanks reluctantly lets you go and takes a seat at the bar. He watches you busy yourself with refilling his crew's drinks while you both wait for Buggy's arrival.

You don't have to wait long. About half an hour into your shift, the door swings open and Buggy storms in. He's by himself, meaning he probably saw Shanks through the window and sent his crew away. He's also red in the face - whether from embarrassment or rage is unclear.

“SHANKS” He yells, the top half of his body flying over to where Shanks is sitting while his legs run to catch up. Shanks looks up at Buggy fondly, and memories of your time together as a trio come flooding back as you observe them. Buggy screams something about Shanks embarrassing and betraying him, which Shanks merely laughs off. Buggy pauses mid-rant when his eyes land on you. “Hi y/n”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smile back, leaning over the bar to pull him into a kiss that clearly shocks him as it almost knocks his hat off. Shanks tilts his hat back onto his head and kisses Buggy's cheek, making him so flustered that you can practically see the steam radiating off him.

“Why don't we take our girl home and have a real conversation?” suggests Shanks. Buggy, unable to respond coherently, just nods, and Shanks tells you to get your stuff ready. You apologise to your coworker on the way out, who simply says she already knew this would happen. You and Shanks animatedly talk about the past while Buggy is uncharacteristically quiet, interjecting with his own point of view every so often. When you enter your house, you sit on the sofa, leaving your men to sit on either side of you.

“Why do we have to talk,” Buggy grumbles, tugging at the fabric of your skirt. “Why can't we just tear this off you, fuck you and then talk another time.”

“Because I don't want any problems between my favourite guys,” you say, batting your eyelashes at Buggy. Buggy gives in embarrassingly quickly, looking up at Shanks, who's bearing a similar expression to you. Buggy's heart squeezes as the feelings he's spent years suppressing rise to the surface.

“I'm not sure what I did to make you hate me,” says Shanks, but Buggy cuts him off.

“I don't hate you. I never hated you. I was willing to follow you through hell. We were supposed to find the one piece together, but then you changed your mind. I felt betrayed”

“I'm sorry, Buggy. I really am.” Shanks says, reaching across you to caress Buggy's cheeks. Buggy leans into the affection, making you smile warmly.

“Whatever. Can we get to the good stuff now? we'll handle all the emotions later.” Buggy says as his detached hand grazes Shanks’ crotch. “Besides, I think our princess wants some attention.” Shanks turns his attention to you, laughing at the pouty expression on your face. He is not done revelling in the fact that he finally has his two favourite people in front of him, so Shanks pulls Buggy in for a kiss that Buggy reciprocates with a quiet moan. They're clearly happy to have each other back, so while they kiss, you lean in and push Shanks's coat off his shoulders, pressing a kiss on his neck as you do so. When Shanks pulls away, he has a smear of lipstick around his mouth, making both Buggy and you laugh.

“You want some lipstick too, baby?” he asks, pulling you in for an enthusiastic kiss. Your teeth almost clash with how much force he puts into the kiss. It reminds you of how Buggy kisses you. It feels like he's overwhelmed and trying to pour some of his feelings onto you with his tongue, which he pushes into your mouth. You feel Buggy's mouth pressing against your neck as his hand plays with the front of your skirt. Buggy also lifts his head when you pull away from the steamy kiss. You can see how hard Shanks is, and you're sure Buggy is no different.

“There's more room on my bed than on here,” you say, starting to stand. Shanks also rises and lifts you over his shoulder. Buggy leads the way to your room, though Shanks is more than familiar with the layout of your house and lets one of his hands fly over to your ass. Your skirt isn't long enough to cover your whole ass in this position, so Buggy takes the opportunity to squeeze and grope your ass. You're thankful that Shanks is sturdy enough to be unphased by your squirming. Shanks drops you on the bed, leaving both of the men towering over you at the edge of the bed.

“There's still one thing that hasn't been addressed”, Says Shanks, twirling Buggy's hair around his finger. “Our insatiable girl has been fucking us for months behind each other's backs” You go to defend yourself and remind them that you were never exclusive with either of them, but Buggy's hands grab at you and pull you to sit up at the edge of your bed.

“You're right. I think she should have to answer for her actions. Any flashy punishments in mind?” Buggy asks. Shanks thinks it over for a second, picturing in his head all the positions both he and Buggy could put you in.

“You know how sensitive she is”, says Shanks and Buggy nods, more than familiar with how receptive you are to his touch. “I say we give her exactly what she wants; make her cum over and over again until her pretty body can't take anymore.” He says. It almost frustrates you how well they know you. Overstimulation is easy to achieve with you, and it's the perfect punishment that involves getting their dicks wet.

“I say one orgasm for every month she was hiding us from each other. When did you start seeing us, sweetheart?” Buggy asks, using his hand to keep your eyes on him. You know you can't lie. You started seeing Shanks first, and he's fully aware of how long he's had you back.

“Six months”, you say, your voice quiet. You're not even sure if you can handle that many orgasms, but you're willing to try. Both men start to strip as Buggy gruffly tells you to do the same. You're completely naked, and the two men are both in their underwear. Shanks instructs Buggy to sit up against the pillows on your bed. You do as you're told, as Shanks tells you to sit between Buggy's legs and back against his chest.

When you're in position, Shanks lies on his front, pulling you slightly down the bed so he can get a better angle to lick at your cunt. He shoves his tongue into your pussy, eating you out with vigour. He drags his tongue back up to your clit, lapping at it and then sucking at it. Your back arches away from Buggy as you cry out in pleasure. Buggy reaches up to play with your tits, adding to your stimulation. Shanks pushes two thick fingers into your pussy, as he all but makes out with it. Your fingers tangle in Shanks's beautiful red locks, similar to how he's tangled up in your heartstrings.

“Talk to us, pretty girl. Does that feel good?” Buggy asks, taking the lobe of your ear between his teeth. You frantically nod, and Shanks's tongue sends shockwaves through your whole body.

“Feels amazing”

“You gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod again, gasping out a yes as you feel the familiar stirring in your stomach. “You hear that, Shanks? She's gonna cum”

Shanks waits until your moans start to shake and then pulls away, slipping his fingers out your soaked cunt and over your shoulder into Buggy's waiting mouth. Having your orgasm ripped out from under you has you crying out and writhing in Buggy's arms. Buggy's unbothered by your whining as he sucks your juices off of Shanks’ fingers. He moves his arms down to wrap around your waist. The sigh has Shanks palming himself through his underwear. Shanks looks down at you, heart softening as your eyes, wet with frustration, blink up at him. You're not being bratty today, something that surprises him. You're far too excited to have both lovers in one place to act up now.

“I said we'd give you six orgasms. I didn't say we'd give them to you easily,” says Shanks, making Buggy laugh in your ear at the way you groan. You should've known the punishment would go further. Shanks leans back down to finish his meal but stops short of actually pressing his mouth to you to tease his fingers at the entrance to your hole. You beg him to do something, eyes screwed shut in frustration. Both men coo at your desperation. “I would if only I had something a bit thicker to fill up this pretty pussy with,” he says, holding his hand out to Buggy, who grumbles something about Shanks being annoying. You can feel that Buggy’s hard cock is no longer pressing against your back, and when you open your eyes, it's in Shanks's hand. “Open that pretty mouth and stick out your tongue”, he orders.

When you open your mouth, Shanks spits onto your waiting tongue and lays Buggy's cock down on it. You hear Buggy hiss at the sensation of your tongue against his cock. Shanks spits over Buggy's cock, using his tongue to spread the saliva. You can't believe how turned on you are by this. You didn't even consider using his power in the bedroom like this. Buggy is whimpering in your ear; the sound only makes you wetter.

“Stop teasing. We're supposed to punish her, not me,” says Buggy. Shanks apologises and pulls away, instructing you to suck Buggy's cock. You obey, egged on by the praise Buggy throws at you. Shank's pulls Buggy's cock from your mouth and pushes it into your hole. Both you and Buggy moan. Shanks's eyes are fixed on where Buggy’s cock is stretching you out. He slowly starts to move, and Buggy's grip on you tightens.

“How does she feel, Bug?”

“Warm. So fucking tight,” Buggy moans. Shanks leans down to continue his earlier task of licking at your sensitive clit. This time he doesn't stop licking and sucking until you're sent over the edge. Buggy is close too but holds off the best he can while your pussy clenches around him. You moan their names as Shanks stays in position between your legs, licking you through your high. When he finally sits up on his knees, he pulls Buggy's throbbing cock from your pussy and holds it up to your lips.

“Be a good girl and finish him off”, Shanks says, whispering encouragement as you accept it into your mouth.

“Fuck, Shanks let go of it. Hold her head in place,” growls Buggy. Shanks listens, moving his hand to get a firm grip on your hair, holding you in place as Buggy starts to face fuck you. You can feel Buggy clinging to you, telling you how good your mouth feels. It doesn't take long for Buggy to cum down your throat, and you do your best to swallow the whole load. Some drips from your mouth, which Shanks is quick to clean up with his tongue. Buggy's cock goes back to his body while Shanks helps turn you over so that you're straddling Buggy. Buggy immediately pulls you into a messy kiss as Shanks sits back to appreciate the two of you.

“You're both so pretty” He coos.

“You red-haired idiot, don't say things like that”, Buggy whines, obviously flustered.

You let Shanks guide you to the middle of the bed and bend you over, shoving a pillow beneath your hips for comfort. You hear Shanks ask Buggy to hand over his belt; moments later, your hands are secured behind your back. Shanks, who's now removed his underwear, slides his hard cock between your folds. He teases your hole, pushing his tip in and then pulling away. He waits a second to take in your pretty noises before giving in to your whining and pushing his cock. He's been hard since he saw you at the beginning of your bar shift, so it's a miracle he doesn't cum as soon as he feels your pussy wrapped around his cock. He lets out a moan that has both you and Buggy drooling from how good it sounds. Shanks starts to thrust and tells Buggy to watch how well you take his cock.

Buggy, who's tying his hair out of the way, looks up at Shanks, who tells him how pretty he looks. Buggy hasn't adjusted to how sappy Shanks is and flushes completely red. Instead of answering, he just pulls Shanks into an aggressive kiss. You can hear the sounds of their kisses behind you, and the sound makes you gush around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good”, groans Shanks, reaching, running his hand down your back to grip your hair and pull you upward against his chest. Buggy moves on the bed and is now in front of you. He kisses you and reaches a hand down to rub your clit. You moan into Buggy's mouth as he speeds up his fingers. “You're squeezing me so hard,” says Shanks, heavy thrusts jolting you forward.

You cum as Shanks ruts into you, chasing his own high. Your cries of pleasure make it difficult to kiss you, so Buggy moves his mouth to the crook of your neck, cooing praises into your skin. You hear Shanks behind you moaning and cursing, dangerously close to the edge with the way your pussy walls clench around him. He cums with a shaky groan, filling you up with his cum. He relinquishes his grip on your hair, chuckling fondly as you slump forward against Buggy. Shanks massages the sore area with his hand, giving you a moment to breathe.

“How many orgasms have you had now, pretty girl?” asks Shanks.

“Two”, you say, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

“Good girl, make sure you don't lose count.” Shanks and Buggy both guide you to lie on your back, and Shanks tells Buggy to hold your legs open. Buggy does as he's told, holds your legs spread, and pushes up your chest. Shanks grabs hold of Buggy's hair and pushes him down between your legs. “Clean her up for me.”

Buggy nods as he sticks his tongue inside of your cum filled Buggy. Shanks watches as Buggy eats Shanks's cum out of you. Buggy is eager to please as he licks at your cunt. It took him a while to get the hang of eating you out when you first started hooking up, but now he has an understanding of your body that no one else has. He works you over with his tongue, your post-orgasm sensitivity pushing you to the edge quickly. If you're this sensitive already, you dread to think how you'll feel after the next few orgasms you've been promised. Shanks looks from Buggy's face to yours and immediately recognises how close you are. He tells Buggy you're near and to make you cum now. Buggy pays extra attention to your clit as you attempt to buck up into his face. He holds you down as his tongue sends you over the edge and straight into an orgasm.

You writhe as you cum, drenching Buggy's face. Buggy remains unmoved, tongue still working at you even when you start to come down again. In fact, Buggy doesn't let up at all when your third orgasm quells; he pushes two fingers into you, ready to send you into a fourth orgasm. You're ascending from one plane of existence to the next as Buggy has the next orgasm building so quickly after your last. Every nerve in your body tingles and an odd feeling settles in your lower stomach.

Shanks looks on in awe; watching his two fated mates so animalistic has him too enamoured to even worry about his hardening cock. He's sure the way you're crying out for them is disturbing your neighbours, but he doesn't have it in him to care. Shanks watches as Buggy adds another finger. The pleasure is so intense that you shift up the bed, instinctively searching for something other than the sheets to grip. Shanks moves his hand from Buggy's hair to your face, caressing your cheek and running his thumb over your lips.

“Don't run from it, princess. Let Buggy make you cum” he says, voice soft. As if on cue, you're launched into another mind-blowing orgasm. It takes a second to register that you're gushing all over Buggy's face because Buggy seems completely unbothered by it, continuing to work you through your high and prolong your orgasm. Your body feels momentarily numb as you arch off the bed, shaking as you soak the sheets beneath you. Buggy finally relents, shifting back onto his knees, wiping his face with the back of his hand and messing up his makeup. You notice the way his face, neck and torso are dripping with your juices. You feel panic rise at the fact you've just squirted everywhere, but Shanks immediately stomps it back down by pulling you into a kiss.

Once you're rolled into a spot where you're not lying in a pool of cum, you get a glance of yourself in the mirror and almost recoil in shock. Your hair is messy, and your face is covered in smudged and transferred makeup. Your body is littered with remnants of lipstick and hickeys. When you look up at Shanks and Buggy, who look equally roughed up, they're staring at you with fondness in their eyes. You can't believe the men above you are looking at you with such hunger when you look this much of a mess.

“You're so beautiful,” says Shanks. Buggy's lipstick transferred onto your face almost makes it look like you have messy clown makeup on, and it causes a stir in Shanks’ crotch that he takes note of for future reference - maybe he’ll ask you to dig in Buggy’s makeup bag. Buggy is kneeling next to him, leaning on his shoulder to catch his breath. Most of his makeup is gone, having been transferred onto you and Shanks, but he still looks radiant to you. He has a smile settled on his face, a soft, content smile you don't see often from him. It makes your stomach warm to know you have this level of connection with two people. “Do you want to stop? We can stop if it's too much. Four orgasms is alot,” says Shanks, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he observes your ragged breathing. You frantically shake your head, immediately having an answer for him.

“I don't wanna stop,” you whine. You might be sensitive, but you crave as much of them as you can get. “Please. I want more,” you beg. You move your exhausted body to kneel in front of Shanks and push him down to lie on his back. Shanks easily does what you want him to, lying back but using his elbow to hold himself up and watch you.

You crawl on top of Shanks, straddling his hips and stare down his torso, examining the canvas on which you and Buggy have made art; bright red lipstick and shiny lip gloss cover his neck and chest. You don't waste any more time, grabbing ahold of his hard cock and guiding it to your hole so you can sink down on it. You feel Buggy's presence behind you and pull him closer to you so he can help guide you down. Buggy tells you to bend forward so he can join in. He grabs a bottle of lube from the night side table, spreads it over his fingers and pushes two against the tight rim of your hole. You gasp and clench around Shanks, who groans but is careful not to jolt you. Buggy works you open with his fingers until you've had enough and beg him to fuck you properly.

“Please put it in. I can take it. I need it so bad,” you beg, knowing Buggy would give it to you anyway. Shanks laughs from beneath you.

“Weren't you all fucked out from four orgasms like ten minutes ago?” He asks, amused by your sudden eagerness. “I didn't know you had crazy stamina,” he comments. Neither did you. Buggy pulls his fingers out of you and lines his cock up with your ass hole. His hands grip your hips, a steady presence as he pushes inside you.

You let out a strangled moan as they're both bottomed out inside of you; you've never been this full before. The three of you take a second to breathe, and in the silence, it hits you: you're physically connected to the two people you love most. You've always been theirs, always connected with them beyond romance, and always believed that your very livelihoods are intertwined. You're overcome with a feeling of genuine love.

“Please move. I need you so bad,” you whimper. Your heightened emotions have tears building in your eyes that don't go unnoticed by Shanks, who looks over your shoulder at Buggy and signals him to start moving. Both men begin to thrust, and it feels so good you find yourself clawing at Shanks’ chest. Shanks’ cock twitches inside you at the thought of the marks that will be left behind. The feeling of both men filling you up quickly overwhelms you, and the tears spill down your cheeks.

“Oh, pretty girl, you're crying for us. Does it feel that good?” coos Shanks. He reaches his hand up to wipe at the tears. Buggy’s lips trail your shoulder blades as he whispers praises into your skin. Your legs start to shake, and you can barely support yourself. You're about to cum again, and both men can feel it.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Your ass feels amazing,” moans Buggy. “Cum for us. I know you want to,” he says, hand reaching around to rub your clit. Your hand intertwines with Shanks’, and you pin it down to the bed by his head, squeezing his palm as you approach your orgasm. Shanks tries the best he can to fuck up into you harder, planting his feet on the bed for leverage.

Your orgasm is intense, and you sob about how good it feels as you lose your balance and slump forward to bury your face in Shanks’ neck. Shanks and Buggy continue their movements, chasing their orgasms. You barely have time to recover before you cum again, holes spasming around your men. Your vision goes white, your body goes numb, and you gush all over Shanks’ torso. Buggy is next to follow, teeth sinking into your skin as he fills you up. Then Shanks cums with a pretty moan before stilling inside you. You all stay in this position; naked, connected and in a sticky mess of cum and sweat. You're on the verge of passing out, so Buggy is uncharacteristically gentle as he pulls out, shushing you when you whine at the feeling. Buggy helps Shanks lift you off of him, and then the pair of them get you over to the guest bed so Buggy can clean you up. Shanks strips your bed and prepares your sheets for cleaning first thing in the morning. Buggy finishes cleaning up the mess of cum between your legs and over your hips and starts to wipe at your makeup that was ruined by his own cosmetics. Shanks returns to the guest bedroom and leans against the doorframe to watch the intimate moment between you and Buggy. A smile settles on his lips as he watches Buggy steal a kiss while wiping your makeup off.

“Ready for bed, you two?” he asks as Buggy throws away the wipes. Your bed is only a double, so the sleeping arrangement ends up being you fully on top of Shanks, resting your head on his chest. Buggy tucks himself into Shanks’ side and rests an arm over you.

“Love you,” you mumble as you drift off. Buggy doesn't respond, as he is too flustered. Instead, he kisses your temple and lies back down to you in slumber.

“I love you too, baby. I love both of you,” says Shanks before closing his eyes.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You wake up with your whole body feeling sore and drained of energy. You're noticeably alone, but you can hear the hushed voices of your lovers. You roll over to see them standing by the window, engrossed in conversation. Shanks is tucking Buggy's hair behind his ear, and Buggy looks like he’s been crying. You can’t see Shanks’ face, but imagine his expression must be similar.

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, sitting up. Both men turn to you, looking startled. They hadn’t expected you to be awake yet. Buggy quickly wipes his tears, and Shanks wanders to the bed, sitting beside you.

“We were just clearing the air. You know that a lot happened between us, and Buggy and I were just working out our share of issues so that we could move forward with each other,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead and lips. Buggy hasn’t moved from his place by the window. “How are you feeling?” he asks, voice soft and deep.

“I’m okay. I feel sore, though,” you say, pouting at the two men who are the cause of your physical exhaustion. They both smirk at your pouty face, knowing damn well that you had asked them to wreck you.

“That's cute, baby. I didn’t mean that, though. I meant, how do you feel about our relationship?” Shanks clarifies. He calls Buggy to come and sit down with the two of you.

“I want to be official - no matter what happens, I'll always be yours - but how will it work? If you’re working towards being king of the pirates, you can't keep coming back here, or you’ll make no progress,” you say. Shanks nods, looking towards Buggy. The sombre atmosphere lifts as a smile splits across both of their faces.

“We spoke a bit about that earlier. It won’t be safe for you to stay here. If info about you gets out and other pirates try to go after you, you need to be somewhere we can protect you. So we think it would be good for you to come with one of us.” Buggy says, pausing to gauge your reaction. It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a pirate ship, but you have always been pretty good with a sword. Part of you feels nostalgic about being aboard a pirate ship again. Buggy and Shanks are both emperors so no matter who you went with, you'd be safer.

“If I do go with one of you, then what about the other?” you ask, not wanting anyone to be offended that you didn't pick them.

“Then we’ll keep in touch via den den mushi and letters. I'm sure we’ll also cross paths on some islands,” says Shanks.

“It’s been a long time since I've been part of a pirate crew, but I think I can go back if it means being with you”, you say, finally wearing a smile to match those of the men sitting next to you.

You still have a few days to think over and choose who you go with, so for now, you hold out your hands and insist one of them, who ends up being Buggy, carries you to your bathroom so that you can shower together. Shanks stares at you both with hearts in his eyes, and Buggy whisks you off to the shower.

“C’mon, red-haired, our girl needs us”, he calls from the bathroom, and Shanks appears in the doorframe moments later to see you seated on the counter while Buggy turns on the shower. You’re still naked, having not been clothed after last night, and Shanks walks over to you to stand between your legs. He leans in to press little kisses all over your skin, which you interrupt by pulling him up for a kiss.

“You two better behave in the shower, or I'll kick you out”, you say, gently scolding them for all the work they put your body through the night before. You glare at both of them, and Buggy rolls his eyes, pushing back the shower curtain so Shanks can lift you and place you under the water. Both men join you and are delicate as they wash you. They don't apologise for any marks left on you; they're pretty proud of them, but they leave little kisses on them as a thank you for bringing them back together. You had previously thought you’d been fated to a life behind that bar until the universe got your boys back to you. This feels right; it feels comfortable, and you believe in soulmates more and more as every moment passes.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thanks for reading!!! reblogs/comments are much appreciated! ♡

tag list: @bloodfixnd

pls drop a dm or ask to be added to the taglist (if you to be tagged in one specific character list just let me know!)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[rapunzelbro]

The Act of Stealing a Loved One |3| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Hi y'all! I am overwhelmed by the amount of love this fanfiction is getting. Thank you so much, I am glad y'all love it and hope you enjoy it!

Story Guide

Why the hell was he doing this? Maybe it was to try and make up for all that he did to his brother, or maybe it was to attempt to not let Ford ruin something good that finally came into his life. Whatever the reason was, Stan was putting fake glasses on, wearing an outfit similar to what his nerdy brother would wear, he was going to the show. He was going to see you perform.

“God why does he dress so dorky” Stan muttered in annoyance as he looked himself over in the mirror. He adjusted the glasses that sat awkwardly on the bridge of his nose and grabbed the poster before heading out to his car. He drove off to where the show was taking place, in somebody’s basement.

“Do you think he’s going to come tonight?” you muttered, looking at Gabs.

Their band was currently tuning their instruments and checking over equipment in the basement, preparing for the performance.. How the neighbors didn't complain was beyond you, they probably are used to this by now.

“Do you want the truth or for me to lie?” Gabs glanced at you with an annoyed look in her eye, sighing, she continued to tune her guitar “...I don't know why you're still with that bum. You invited him to how many shows now and he just wont show?” She rolled her eyes, directing her attention back towards you.

“He’s super busy, and I get that... His degree is super difficult, so I get it” You muttered, beginning to untangle some of the wires you shoved inside your bag in a hurry “..if he doesn't show tonight, I might just have to talk about where this relationship is going.. I really just don't get why he doesn't support me on this..” you mutter frowning slightly as you progress with the mess of wires

“If that's what you feel is best then do it, besides, you'll always have me and the band,” Gabs smiles softly at you placing her guitar down as she looks at the clock on the wall “Doors open in ten, maybe you'll see him before the show starts.. I'm hoping for his sake or I swear I will beat the absolute sh-”

“Gabs! You're not beating up my boyfriend” you laugh, gently shoving her “But I hope he’ll be there too..”

Stan was glad he got there when he did, considering the fact it was a basement show it was pretty packed. Parking was a bitch, so he ended up parking on the front lawn to which everyone else followed suit once they saw him do it.

“Ford, don't make me regret this…” he muttered getting out of the car before heading to the door. Ignoring the looks of everyone else, he stepped inside. The house smelt of cigarettes and booze, it was rather full at the moment with groups of people talking. It made Stan stick out like a sore thumb while he was trying to find you in the room.

“Holy shit! Ford you actually came!” He heard a female voice yell out before he was suddenly embraced. Looking to see who embraced him, he saw the girl from the photo on Ford's desk, it was you. Returning the hug Stan smiled “I apologize for missing your other shows I got too caug-” he was cut off by you kissing him, shutting him up completely.

Was this wrong? 100%. If Ford ever knew about this he would be in even deeper shit. But the way your soft lips felt against his rough ones pushed that thought aside. Your scent of vanilla, mixed with cigarettes was like a drug he craved. He couldn't get enough of it. You pulled away after a few seconds looking into his eyes smiling

“As much as I love your rambling, shush. I'm just glad you're here!” she said giddily as she wrapped her arms around his neck, the Vodka you tried hiding with a piece of strawberry gum, hitting his nose in the closeness.

“Noted. You look absolutely beautiful, now when do you perform?” Keep your cool Stanley shit!

“Oh I'm on after the first band! Ya know… There's rumors of some school scouting agent showing up tonight.. god can you imagine if it was true?” You smiled, a sparkle in your eyes as you speak “The band and I, in the big leagues..On tour never having to look back? That's the dream” you removed your hands from Stan’s neck

When you pulled away he turned his attention to your ensemble for the show. Your hair was done with brushed out curls, falling towards the low cut neckline of the red shirt you had on underneath the black leather jacket that completed the look.

How the actual hell did Ford score you?

No seriously how the hell.

“Regardless, we got a huge following now, the word got out about us all over campus and some parts of your school so whatever happens I don't give a shit. This is so fun!” you giggle, slightly tipsy from the shots you definitely didn't have earlier

“Whatever makes you happy, I'll support you” Stan smiled gently, squeezing your hand.

He hates that he just added fuel to the fire of lies he is making, but he didn't want to crush your dreams. Stan knows his brother was definitely not supportive of your music career, he knows that he would probably tell you to be more realistic, that's just how his brother was. Stan wishes that somehow, he would have been the one you met, he longed for someone exactly like you. Carefree, up for the thrill of not knowing what's next, and not giving a shit while doing it.

“And that's why I love you Ford” Y/n says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Y/n! Come on, we have to figure out all our shit before we go on! You can make out with him later!” Jamie yelled out to you, holding up one of his drumsticks, pointing out at you

“Ugh, I'm coming! See you on stage lover boy” You kiss him one last time before running off with Jamie.

God he was down bad

Taglist @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment @boba-is-a-soup @bigteefsmallbrain @originalalienlawyershark @darlingdia1007 @kismogizmo @heysam09 @mottysith @fudosl

[d1s1ntegrated]

Fiiirst, CONGRATS ON 700!! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜That's awesome! Can't wait to see you hit 1,000 bc you def deserve it. ♡ Now for my submission! I rolled a 5 for Style and a 2 for Wild Card for a Shigaraki x reader piece. The only squicks I have are super-underage and bodily fluids that aren't blood, spit, or cum. Everything else is fair game! ♡ @league-of-simps

you know my name: tomura x reader

submission #2 for the 777 event. thank you so much harleyyyy <3 so excited to live out my gamblin dreams thru our fav meanie (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)

shigaraki x reader- oneshot- 2.8k words rolls: 5; 2 (porn with plot & casino au) summary: tomura's losing streak in poker pisses him off. what happens when lady luck gives him an assist? cw: 18+, mdni. fem reader, smut, doggy, kinda switch tomura, drinking, gambling. tomura is snarky, reader is worse. mutual pining hidden by poker faces. casino // hotel setting. other league members mentioned (dabi, twice, compress, spinner). the league plays poker its CANON no beta readers: read at your own discretion! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"I fold".

Tomura sighs, shoving himself away from the velvet table. He doesn't know what it is tonight, maybe its the smoke cloying at his throat from the heavy cigars, maybe his tolerance has dropped below normal to the whiskey; tonight's hands have all been shit. Shit, so shit that he's debating taking his losses and going upstairs for the night.

After months of playing amateur backyard poker with the boys, fooling around with an old set of playing cards they found in a junk drawer, they decided to try and make it big. A few weeks in the gambling capital of the world oughta set them up nice for life. Cozy furnishings, a stocked liquor cabinet, and a fully furnished basement for their own underground poker ring. What a life it could be.

Professional poker against lifelong gamblers is surprisingly harder than they ever could have imagined. Perhaps Tomura was in over his head. Maybe Zen was right; maybe he is just a child. He could just stick to the family business; he and Touya combined could make out more than comfortably. Between their two respective fathers, they could amass a fortune just from their names. But Tomura didn't want to cheat. He wanted to play his own game, write his own rules- even if that meant starting at the first level. He could never leave Spinner, Atsuhiro, or Jin out of this, either. They had made out good for the past two weeks, anyway. He just had to get over the hump. It was just a rut. The tournament still had a few days to go- and if they made it this far, they'd make it to the end.

He sits on a barstool at the long marble counter. A small bartender comes, taking his order down and making it as he answers, not wasting any time. He pushes a strand of long hair from his face, taking a slow sip, his eyes falling closed for a moment.

"Boulevardier," a voice whispers in from over his shoulder. The scent of vanilla, incense, and amber envelops him through the tobacco haze, and his eyes snap open. You stand beside him, eyes raking over his suit-clad body. You can tell from one glance he's not a regular, he's not usually a drinker, and he's trying desperately to forget his last round.

"What?" He turns his head completely, his eyes glistening under the dimmed lights.

"Boulevardier. Dee-ay. Not Boulevard-er. It's an E-A sound. You butchered your pronunciation".

He takes a moment, nodding. "Thanks," he mutters, turning back to the bar.

"I'm just saying- if you don't want them to know you're a rookie-"

"I'm not," He snaps back, face flat. "Who even are you?" His voice is sharp, but curious still as you swirl your drink.

Your eyes dance on his crooked tie, his pale face humming with displeasure. You reach your hand out to him, nails manicured and fingers steady. "Just a spectator," you smile softly. He looks down at your hand for a brief moment before taking it, pressing a chaste kiss to your soft fingers. His lips are warm, slightly rough against your knuckles. You speak again, his eyes less sharp now as he takes another swig from his glass. "Your tie is crooked".

He rolls his eyes, but it's nothing more than a facade. You lean into him, adjusting the silky red material before tugging at it briefly, his eyes following you in awe. Strands of cornflower blue frame his face as it comes loose from what used to be a neat ponytail. 

You had been watching him play for a few nights. It wasn’t often you were here, but the time you spent had paid off, as crimson eyes now look over you slowly. You can feel his gaze hanging on you like a bee to honey, clinging to you as if you’ll disappear from sight. He doesn’t say a word as you both sit beside each other now, sipping from your glasses respectively. The silence between you hangs thickly, webbing the two of you together. His pretty face remains flat, but you can catch the glimmer of curiosity in his gaze every few seconds. 

He goes to speak, maybe to ask your name, or your deal, when the next round starts, and Touya waves him over. You can see the tall man in your peripheral vision, thick black hair pulled into a half-up bun, piercing blue eyes that feel like ice running down your spine. You knew all their names by the second night of watching– and you knew their story by the third. 

Tomura stands, grabbing his glass. He turns to speak to you again, but you silently lace your arm under his, his cheeks flushing pink as you walk back to the table with him. Touya's face shifts, teeth baring at the sight. “Got a date there, Tomura?” 

Tomura makes a cut-throat motion, urging Touya to stop. His cheeks are flushed, but maybe it’s just warm in here.

He pulls out a chair for you, and you sit beside him as the hand is dealt. Like every other night, you don't join, you simply watch. This time, though, you get to watch front and center, your arms brushing against each other gently. You lean into his ear, whispering to him, "If you win this round, you'll know my name".

He chuckles, brows furrowed at the idea. His slender fingers curl around his glass, and he mumbles out "Deal" as your glasses collide. He wasn’t exactly the type to turn down a bet.

By default, he has a good hand. The round plays as usual, until the last stifling few minutes, tensions rising as Tomura's red eyes shift to his hand. It's only him and one other person— soem stuffy-looking man in an all-white suit and dark eyes.

"Raise," says the man across the table. He slides a pile of chips in— a three-thousand-dollar raise from the original pot. Tomura smiles ever-so-subtly as he nods. "I'll call". He slides his stack of chips into the pot. 

The man across plays his hand, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Full house," he boasts loudly, beady eyes shining. Tomura nods slowly, eyes shifting around. He leans back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Every move he makes is calculated, deceitful. There’s something powerful about him, but you can’t quite put a finger on it. 

The dealer waits patiently, arms crossed tightly against his chest. Tomura lowers his voice, dragging out his alleged defeat. "Okay..." faux trepidation coats his tongue as he lowers his head slightly before extending his arm out. He tosses his cards out in front of him, masking his grin. The man in white smiles and laughs preemptively, reaching for the stack of chips. The dealer puts his arm out, waiting for Tomura to make the announcement.

"Fours".

Touya smiles as he shakes his head, Spinner claps his hands together almost as if to pray. You lean over Tomura's shoulder again and press a gentle kiss to his ear before whispering your name to him. The man in white slams his fist on the table, and the dealer bows slightly to Tomura while holding a hand out to stop the others. 

“Good job, rookie”. His ears heat at your touch, and the rest of the men surrounding watch. He takes the rest of his drink in one go, and your hand rests gently on his thigh. 

As the night progresses, he grows more impatient. Every round is a win for him or the boys, their victories painting their faces with insatiability before last call is announced. By the time the game is cut for the night, Tomura has gained increasing levels of incentive to win more. A bite on his neck, a pinch to his hip, a breathy promise in his ear. By the end of the night, his slacks were tight, and his curiosity was piqued. 

He drags you out of the casino with a firm hand on your hip, barely hiding his frustrations from the incessant teasing. He walks fast, pushing you into his hotel room and clicking the lock in one movement. There's no time to speak or even remove your shoes before he's smashing his lips onto yours, breathy and full of want.

Tomura’s lips are softer than the kiss he placed on your hand earlier, despite his hungry kisses. You slip your tongue between them, tasting the whiskey on his breath. He presses into your mouth desperately, every movement sending pricks of electricity through your bones. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, undoing his hair. It cascades down his shoulders, the scent of orange-vanilla curtaining around you, his long fingers gripping your jaw. You two continue stepping back, almost dancing around the room as he presses you to the bed, you land softly under his arm, cradling your lower back. He kisses down your jaw, across your bare collarbones, slipping the strap of your dress down to expose more of you. His hands move feverishly, gripping into soft skin, curves melting between his fingers. You pull at his tie, and he yanks it off, tossing it aside as your hands nimbly undo the buttons of his shirt, his face dark with heat. He can't stop himself from kissing you again, he can't be patient anymore– he tears the rest of his shirt off and pulls it off,  leaving his bare chest and torso open now.

Soft marbled muscle carves his body, something you hadn't seen under the expensive-looking suit and tie. A few scars drape over his creamy skin like brush strokes, and you feel your eyes melt over his entire image. As he hovers over you, you watch his biceps flex, his shoulders twitching every time he lowers himself down to kiss another part of you. You run your hands down his body, dragging against the tuft of soft blue hair below his navel, and you can feel his cock twitching against your thigh as your fingers near.

He mumbles your name like a hymn in your ear as you undo his belt, his arms already shaking. His breaths collect against the crook of your neck as he slides more of your dress down, the slippery material slipping off your legs like water, leaving you completely bare. His breath hitches, and he bites into your thigh without warning, causing you to gasp out in shock.

His pants are only half undone as he shoves them off along with his boxers, not wasting any more time as his cock springs free, tapping up against his stomach as it weeps. His fingers lace into yours as he pins your arms above your head, leaving rosy marks on your neck as he sucks and nips at it.

"Fuck," he drives himself into your hip, then adjusts himself between your legs. Your head falls back into the pillowy mattress as he rubs the head of his cock into your swollen clit, but he retreats slowly and gets on his knees in front of you. His lips are slightly parted, his chest rising quickly as lowers himself between your legs, lifting under your thighs and placing them on his shoulders. Your hands tangle in his soft blue waves as his tongue darts between your folds, his moaning following immediately after tasting you. His nose presses into your clit as he dips his tongue inside of you, his name falling from your lips softly.

Tomura's fingers grip into the flesh of your thighs as he buckles down, devouring like he had been starved his entire life. His teeth nip at your skin, he rolls the bud of sensitive nerves between them with his tongue, drinking down your sweetness with muffled moans and whimpers. The muscles in his back shift each time he grinds against the mattress, already dangerously close to making a mess of the duvet.

The numbing heat in the pit of your stomach tightens, pulling like a tight cord. Tomura's moans doubled with his frantic licking are enough to do you in, and the cord snaps. Your hands grip at his hair, pulling him into you as if he could get any closer, and you grind yourself into his mouth. He whimpers loudly, swallowing hard as he laps up every drop of you.

You try to push him away as his tongue flickers across your pussy, but he resists with a greedy smile. His breathing is hot and fast against your overstimulated clit, and you tug his hair more and more to get him to pull away. He growls, gripping into your thighs tightly before pulling away from you and flipping you over with deceptive amounts of strength. He pushes your face into the pillows, positioning you like a doll, legs spread wide and cunt dripping onto the duvet. He shivers as he lines himself up, keeping one hand on your lower back, pressing you down. He grabs his tie, shoving it into your mouth with two fingers, grabbing at your soft cheeks. His previous pathetic worshipping has since been replaced with a sadistic grin and a low voice. "The quieter you are, the faster I'll go, okay?"

You nod, eyes squeezing shut as he shoves himself into you tightly. You bite down on the silk tie as he stretches you out, that same heated coil inside of you building back up. He bottoms out, knees wobbling as you grip around his cock like a vice, but he steadies himself again, thrusting slowly. You whimper, the tie forcing you to breathe slowly and deeply.

"I wanna keep you forever," he starts, panting as he thrusts in and out of you rhythmically. "You're good luck, fuck-" he throws his head back. "You're so fucking tight", he says as he gets faster, hitting right against your spot with every movement.

You moan, and he slows down. "Nuh-uh". You can't speak, you can't make a sound without him slowing back down. He keeps talking, his voice thick with craving.

"You're gonna be my good luck charm, hm?" He slowly increases his pace again. "You're so pretty, you're so fucking- fuck, you're so pretty".

The man you had set your eyes on seemed timid, gentle, and nervous. The man laying into you right now was none of those things. He was filthy, depraved, and beautiful, fingers digging into you, as if you would ever choose to leave. Your body trembles, your eyes water, and your face feels feverish. His saccharine words drip from his mouth like honey while his hands roam over you. He grabs a handful of your tits, holding onto you close as he pounds you from behind. "Mine," he declares in your ear. "You're all mine now".

Tomura's cock sputters as he gets closer, and you can feel his thrusts get thrown off with the wave of building euphoria. Your orgasm is suffocatingly close, and he yanks the tie from your mouth. "Need to hear you," his pleading returns as he jerks rapidly into you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, reaching your hand between your legs to your neglected clit, rubbing at it. His whines and moans are getting louder, raspy and sweet-sounding. You tighten further around him, causing him to lose himself completely, and he cums, hard. His cock twitches inside of you as it coats you in sticky pearls of cum, the warmth enough to cause you to cum just as hard. His hips buckle, and your chest heaves while you both cry out for each other, the pillow beneath you tear-stained and smudged with mascara. 

He peppers kisses down your spine, rocking slowly into you in the after-shock of his orgasm, mumbling the sweetest words. You flip over, and he smooths the hair out of your face gently, keeping himself inside of you, still half-hard. You trace down his chest, catching your breath as you admire him above you. He pulls out slowly, wrapping his arms around you like a prize. "Lucky" he repeats to you, blinking slowly. You soften at the sound of his voice, tired and fulfilled.

"I'll help you win tomorrow, too" you whisper to him as you kiss his nose, and he grins through the exhaustion.

"You don't have a choice now. You're mine". He sighs contentedly, stretching out on the bed. "I wasn't lying".

Your chest tightens, womb fluttering with the idea. "And what happens when you leave?"

He turns to you, thin brows furrowed. "You follow me".

And so, the game begins.

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

copyright d1s1ntegrated 2025 © do not reupload, copy, or use my writing for ai training.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

The World Caves In Around Me. I Love It.

This one made me feel a certain kind of way. Kidnapper!König does that to me, you know? Like, wow I kinda shook myself with the ending. I'm always amazed by where this story goes. Fucks me up, man.

Tws: death of a child (referenced), murder (referenced), manipulation, mind fuckery, horror, psychological horror, abusive family, stalking, kidnapping, yandere,

Wordcount: 2.7K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

The World Caves In Around Me. I Love It.

“König?” you asked as he fluffed the pillows.

He didn’t say a word as he focussed on putting the pillows in place. Only once they were fluffed to his preferred state did he turn to look at you.

“When were you going to tell me about the wedding?”

His eyes widened momentarily.

“Our wedding?” he clarified.

You grimaced, “So it is our wedding.”

He nodded curtly, “Of course it is. It’s only right, isn’t it?”

“But I’ve only known you for a couple of months!” you fretted, “aren’t we moving too fast?”

He stalked over to where you stood in the doorway. He peeked his head out to look around, then shuffled you inside and closed the door after you. Immediately he bent down to look you in the eyes.

“Do you even know how long we’ve been together?” he whispered.

“It’s only been… A couple of months, right? It’s not been that long,” you stepped back towards the bed, “König, it hasn’t been long, has it?”

He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. When he showed it to you, your stomach dropped.

“It’s…”

“It’s been over six months,” he finished for you, “you’ve been living with me for over half a year. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” you said too quickly, “I just… I guess I lost track of time.”

He curled an arm around your shoulder and tucked you to his side. The feeling of his hand stroking your side had your hair standing on end.

“Do you think you should go to bed early tonight?” he asked, “I can tell my family to let you rest for a bed. You could stay up here?”

“I…” you heard murmurs outside your door passing through the halls.

He stooped down to press a kiss on your forehead, “Just rest here. It’s your first night sleeping with me, right? Why don’t you lie down? I can always bring dinner up to you.”

Your gaze dropped to your feet shamefully.

He kissed you again and petted your head reverently.

“I want to lie down,” the words felt gummy in your dry mouth.

König helped you step to the side of the bed and pulled open the covers for you. You settled under the covers and let him tuck you in, almost as though he was tucking his wayward daughter into bed. The thought of König having children made you sick to your stomach.

König seemed to want to say more, but instead he kissed you and stepped to the door quietly. When he closed the door behind him, you barely registered the click of a lock.

Free from his presence, your mind was left to spiral. You’d been living in König’s house for at least eight months now. Maybe even more. You needed to get another look at his phone. How hadn’t you noticed? It crossed your mind that he’d been careful about what media he’d let you have. It was always streaming sites on his television or letting you look around at a few websites on his phone. Had he really kept this from you for so long? But then he’d seemed surprised that you didn’t know the date. It was entirely possible that you’d just been willingly ignorant for months.

It seemed like only just yesterday that he’d kept you chained up in his basement. The ghost of his chain still whispered around your ankle. All semblance of time disappeared the moment he took it off. Instead, you’d contented yourself with your walks in his garden and sitting beside him as he fiddled with things. 

Being outside of the basement still made you antsy. Being on your own outside of the basement was even worse. You felt like you were supposed to be by his side at all times, his perfect little puppy. He kept you on a little string woven around his finger, tugging ever so gently to guide you along his carefully woven tightrope.

Showering alone was still an alien concept to you. He’d only stopped sharing a shower about a week ago. Or was it a week? You couldn’t tell anymore. All you knew was that when he told you about his parents coming, that was when he let you shower on your own. Thinking about it carefully, that could have been over a month ago.

You sniffled. König had only just left and already you were crying. If he were here, he’d be sure to make things right. He always made things right. Whenever König was around, it felt like everything was finally okay. The moment he left your sight, you crumbled.

How you’d held yourself together when you were talking to his mother was beyond you.

Memories of what his sister had told you crashed into your consciousness.

There wasn’t anything you could do anymore to change your situation. If what Klara said was true, you were finally trapped in the web. You were the fly sitting in the black widow’s clutches, watching as he slowly crept closer and let the poison drip from his fangs. You’d do anything to lap it from under his feet.

Where would you go if you ran away? Mrs. Henker said the closest form of civilization from here was a series of cabins König rented out. A series of cabins currently occupied by his family. If you even found them, you’d be trapped with them. That was completely unthinkable.

So you wiggled in your web, writhed against the strings he’d spun you into. Your cocoon was made of lies you told yourself at this point. At what point were you trapped by him and what point did you trap yourself? Did the ends somehow blend together?

Everything König said flashed before your mind and then some. Whispers conjured in your nightmares jabbered with warnings he’d given you just before his mother came. His eyes haunted you. It was like they could see right through you, see every little thing about you that made you you. He could deconstruct you better than you could construct yourself.

The thought of him slowly picking you apart chilled you to the bone. You could imagine him carving a little doll of you at his desk in the basement. Maybe he already had. It wouldn’t be unlike him. You could see the glint of the lamplight on his knife, the soft tender look he wore whenever he waxed the finished surface and admired his work. He’d look so happy as he painted you in his perfect image.

Your breathing hitched. 

Were you even yourself anymore? You thought back to the person you were when he first brought you here. You’d been cold, weak, sad. Most of all you’d been alone. König gave you the one thing you craved most; he gave you the love you yearned for. He had filled in the gaps in your psyche like water flowing through cracks. He’d broken down your walls and then rebuilt you anew. You were Berlin bombed, London on fire. You were the fall of the roman empire. You were the library of Alexandria reduced to ashes and whispered echoes through time. He was the architect to your demise, the bomb dropped on you and the fire that consumed you alive. He was the passing of time and the ache of what was lost to history. He built you anew in his divine image from ash and dust and metal chains.

What had you become but Pygmalion’s plaything?

You felt like you were going to be sick. Looking up, you noticed a bathroom door had been left ajar, almost as though it were waiting for you.

At least your sculptor was kind enough to consider how much you reviled him.

Your stomach heaved again and you scurried to the toilet to empty yourself. Looking into the bowl, you felt a sort of satisfaction.

If you could learn to hate him again, you could win his wicked game. But then again, maybe he expected that. If you did hate him, what would he do to you? He’d been nice when he trapped you in his basement. What would he do if he wanted to be cruel?

His mother’s casual remarks about the little boy scared you.

You leaned your head down as though you were praying. Maybe you should start. At this point, only God could bear witness to your suffering. If he was going to lead you into König’s arms, then maybe he’d be kind enough to weep for you.

Tears flowed down your cheeks. If God couldn’t cry, at least you could. In the end, maybe that was all that mattered. You could cry.

Laughter rippled through the house. It sounded so light, almost endearing. You wondered which one of them had made that sound. Hell, you hadn’t even met König’s father yet. You’d run upstairs the moment you had a chance, which was when König had walked in to collect you from his mother. She’d only had time to say ‘Congratulations’ before you were whisked away upstairs.

Maybe he’d planned that. Would he actually listen to your conversation, just out of view? It seemed psychotic. It seemed like König.

You wanted to scream or shout or do anything to ruin their fun little dinner party. How dare they joyously celebrate your demise? Without you present! It strike you as ironic that the thing that currently bothered you wasn’t your ‘marriage’ to König, but rather how gleefully they celebrated your union whilst you weren’t even present. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself.

You hurled once more into the toilet, a cloud of yellow bile joining into the mix. You reached up weakly to flush, the flopped over onto the cold tile. You looked up by the door to see a small dial beside the switches.

You peeled yourself up and looked down at the little numbers. When it clicked, you guffawed at the sight.

It was a switch to heat the tiles.

You felt like you were losing your mind as you turned up the heat and went back to laying down. At least if you were going to be comfortable in your misery. 

A couple hours later, when you’d finally dozed off, you felt something nudging you gently. Then, you were lifted up into the air and put back in that wretched bed. How dare it have the gall to be comfortable. You blinked your eyes blearily to the sight of König gently tucking you in again.

“Ah,” he finished and stepped back, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” you yawned, “what time is it?”

“It’s about nine o’clock,” he crouched by your side and reached out to stroke your cheek.

“It’s nine?” you stretched and tried to sit up when König stopped you, “what are you doing?”

“You don’t need to get up if you don’t want to,” he assured you.

“I want to though,” you frowned, “I want to stay up a bit. If I go to bed now I’ll wake up too early.”

He narrowed his eyes briefly, then nodded.

“You can get up then,” he conceded, “but you’re staying in bed.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m getting in bed,” he said and stood up to his full height.

You watched as he pulled off his sweater to reveal a soft shirt, then under that a wall of muscle and fat. And then his pants came off, and you averted your gaze.

“You don’t want to see me?” he said as he rounded the bed and fondly added, “you know what a married man expects of his wife?”

“I’m not…” you swallowed, “I’m not ready yet.”

You heard him sigh as he settled into the bed beside you, “That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“You… Don’t?”

“Nothing until you’re ready,” he assured you as he turned to face you.

You noticed he kept his hood on still.

“You wear that even with your family.”

“This?” he plucked at the black shroud, “of course. Why, do you not like it?”

“It’s kinda weird that you’re wearing it when we’re sleeping together,” you pointed out.

König’s eyes softened, “Of course, you're right. Let me take it off then.”

He turned and shucked the hood, but when he turned back you couldn’t help but cower into the bed.

He had blond-brown hair, short cropped to his head. His eyes were soft, but you were used to his eyes. You weren’t used to the large broken nose or the scars ripping through his flesh. You noticed König tense his jaw, but you were so focused on his scarring that you didn’t care.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You flinched at the harshness in his tone and looked down to your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s rude to stare,” he snapped as tears slid down your cheeks. He sighed and softened, “it’s okay. I’m sure you didn’t mean to, did you?”

You trembled as you shook your head.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he drew a finger under your chin and tilted your face up to meet his eyes, “you’re too good for that, aren’t you?”

You gulped.

“Did you know that I didn’t know the day?” you asked.

"What?"

"I didn't know how long I've been with you. Did you know that?"

He blinked and frowned, “No, of course not! I had no idea you didn't know. I thought for sure that I had a calender somewhere at least.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again. You didn’t believe him. You didn’t believe him. You didn’t believe him-

“I believe you,” you heard yourself whisper.

“Good girl,” he smiled and the skin around his lips curled unnaturally, “you know I’d never hurt you. You’re too good for that.”

“If…” you felt like you were going too far, “if you did hurt me, how would you hurt me?”

Something changed in König’s eyes. He shuffled closer until you were breathing into his chest.

“I’d never hurt you,” he promised.

You sighed in relief.

“But if I did…”

You froze up again.

“I think I would make sure you would never make me do that again,” you heard the loving smile in his voice, “and I know I wouldn’t have to tell you more than once.”

You nodded, and against your better judgment, you huddled into his revolting chest.

“Oh, look at you,” he laughed lightly as he wrapped his arm around you, “you’re just too precious.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” your voice warbled pathetically.

“I won’t,” he bent down to kiss the top of your head, “I would never. You wouldn’t try to make me mad, would you?”

“No,” you choked back a sob, “I’ll be good for you. I promise I’ll be good.”

König sighed and tucked his chin over you, “Just what did my mother say to you to make you like this? Don’t tell me she scared you.”

“Y-you didn’t actually kill anybody, did you?”

“Of course I did,” he laughed, “I’ve killed many people. I was a soldier in the military, and after that I was in a PMC. I specialized in hostage rescue though. I killed all the bad guys, ja?”

He rubbed your back as he grinned down at you.

“So you didn’t hurt anyone before the military?”

König froze. He slowly slid down the bed until his eyes were just inches away from yours.

“What did she say.”

You shuddered and shook as tears streamed down your face.

He put an hand on your shoulder and rubbed it gently.

“I’m not mad at you,” he promised, “I just want to know what she said.”

“She-she said you killed a boy,” you spluttered, “when you were a kid.”

König’s lips twitched upwards.

“I did,” he admitted easily, “when I was very young and before I learned to control my… Feelings. I lost control back then. But I’m better now,” he punctuated his promise with a kiss on your cheek, “you believe me, right?”

You didn’t have a choice when you said, “Of course I do.”

“Good girl,” he cooed.

“So, your family actually covered up the murder,” you concluded.

“My family is very well connected,” he said, “and wealthy too. You’ll never want for anything by my side.”

"So your sister wasn't lying..."

"My sister told you about the family?" König asked.

"She told me you were..." you scrunched your eyes shut, "it didn't sound real. She made it sound like you were, like, all powerful or something. She told me about aliens!?"

"Oh yes, the aliens," König laughed, "did she tell you about the cryochambers too?"

"The what?"

"Look," König petted your hair fondly, "my family's reach is global. Anywhere you turn, we are watching. Anyone in my family can do whatever they want, whenever they want. It's our birthright."

You shuddered at the thought.

“If I marry you,” you swallowed heavily, “would that make me part of that too?”

König smiled fondly, “Of course.”

You shuddered again in his grasp.

“What’s wrong?” he asked and rubbed your back.

You looked down at König’s muscular chest and put a hand up over his heart, winding your fingers through his coarse hair.

The thought had crossed your mind many times, but you'd always figured you'd never have an answer. But if König was so well connected, surely he'd know the answer. He had to. He was too psychotic to just let it go.

You needed to ask.

“How many times," you hiccuped, "how many times did my parents try to call the police? After you kidnapped me.”

König sighed so sadly you knew that whatever he said next would be the genuine truth.

“I'm so sorry, my love. I didn’t even have to bother trying to hide you.

"They never called.”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universes

Nice Kidnapper!Konig

[kasagia]

Game of survival

Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!rebel! reader Summary: The worst enemy is the person who betrayed you when you trusted them with all your heart. The person you told all your secrets to, the person you loved more than your life—the best friend who suddenly turned on you and stabbed you in the back and right through your heart, using your weaknesses they learned with the time they spent with you. You and Coriolanus have been each other's worst enemies since that fateful day at the lake in District 12... Inspired by: Game of survival - Ruelle Warning: 18+; a little smut; Coriolanus chases you around his presidential palace; I had a completely different idea for it, but it turned out that way...; Enjoy!; Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

You hold your breath as you sit on the roof of a building.

Through Sniper Rifle, you watch carefully as the president of Panem gets out of his car. You only see the outline of his bleached blonde hair before he disappears into his presidential palace. The car drives away, and peacekeepers start circulating around the building again. An impregnable fortress. Seemingly.

"I hope you have a plan." Joseph mumbles next to you, moving into position next to you. "We must act quickly tonight. Get in and out before the peacekeepers find out what are we going to do."

"First, you have to shoot him. I won't leave there without seeing the life drain from his eyes." You reply, preparing to leave the roof.

"Do not worry about it. Everyone would like to be in my place. I don't miss the target." He replies confidently, with an arrogance in his voice that you don't like. But you won't lecture him. The other hunter never liked being told how to do his job. You caught animals; he caught real people. He had more experience in this area than you. But could Coriolanus still be considered human?

"That's not what I'm thinking about. It's a game of survival. Him or us. You have to play it smart. Don't underestimate him just because he's from the Capitol, Jospeh."

"I bet he didn't even hold a gun in those well-groomed hands of his." You shudder. The screams of Sejanus and Lucy Gray echo in your head. Coriolanus' screams. The sounds made by mockingjays...

"I doubt it." You answer briefly and go out to the staircase.

You pass through several of its inhabitants before reaching the basement. Before you open one of the rooms, you look around to make sure you are alone in the residential basements. You quickly open and close the door behind you. You move the painting, some kind of marriage portrait of a general and his wife, and go through a hidden passage. It was a tunnel dug under the building, which led to a small room where the most important members of the rebellion slept. The rest were to arrive during the day. For a special evening event.

"You need to be more careful." Meg tells you as you return to base. "The peacekeepers seem to be breeding in their barracks. I saw twice as many of them on the streets as yesterday. And guess what?"

She slaps her hand flat on the table. You walk up and lean down, seeing the wanted poster for you. Alive, not dead. Whoever turned you in would get a ridiculous amount of money.

"I have a nicer jaw shape." You comment and pick up the wanted poster. You throw it in the air and aim the dagger at it, nailing it to the earthy wall of your shelter.

"I don't know what you did to Snow, but even his advisor, who ran his presidential campaign and defected to join us, isn't so... passionately wanted by him and his men as you are." She says, wincing when she can't get the dagger out of the wall. You roll your eyes and walk over to her, pulling out the dagger easily and handing it to her with a mocking smile.

"Old disagreements and a minor difference of opinion." You tell her, walking over to the map of the Capitol and the plan of the presidential palace. "I doubt he even remembers why he's so pissed at me. That was ages ago. 10 years. Maybe more. But as you can see, bastards like him hold grudges for a long time."

"People gossip, you know. That you are not suitable for this job. That you had some feelings for him that would make you hesitate to pull the trigger when necessary." She says, walking towards you. She places her hand on your back, making you look at her. "If you don't want to, don't say it. But I need to be completely sure that you won't betray us."

"I'm not the one who is supposed to kill him. We have Jospeh to do that. But believe me, if necessary, my hand won't shake. I am a hunter. My job is to kill. And an animal like him is well within my hunting range. He... he has done too much for me to feel sorry for him. And believe me, if anyone has a reason to kill him, it's me. I have something to take revenge for. So if you don't trust me, then trust my rage. After all, there is nothing like a mad woman, is there?" You ask, sending her a meaningful smirk.

And even though you pretend to be so confident in front of her and any other rebels, deep down, you know that it's not all that simple. Things between you and Coriolanus... were complicated. And anyone else in your situation would hate him with all their hearts, but you couldn't just stop loving him. Maybe you were actually weak, but if you learned anything from Coroilanus Snow, it was how to pretend to be stronger than others. Even when you were in a shitty situation.

"Good. Prepare yourself. We start at dusk. For the Districts."

"And for all the fallen. Let the odds be forever dead." You finish.

Meg nods and leaves you alone with the maps and plans. Your task was simple. Sneak through the guests at a masquerade party, get into his office, and plant a bomb. Just in case. Only if Joseph hadn't managed to kill him. You were also supposed to set a few other traps for President Snow. And since you were the best hunter in Panem, there was no one better for that job.

You've been preparing for this for months. You have figured out all the escape routes, emergency exits, peackeeper patrols, and their plans to secure the reception at the presidential palace.

Tonight, everything will be resolved, your past will be finally a closed past, whether you want it or not.

Either he or you will die tonight. And if you were sure about something, you were sure that you wouldn't pass away so easily.

You never expected that Coriolanus Snow would become your worst enemy.

Or at least that's what you think as you drive through the Capitol. You sit in the backseat, staring at the streets and people passing by, as your chauffeur and fellow rebel take you to your destination.

Ever since Lucy Gray returned from the Hunger Games, she has been praising her mentor. She said that the boy she met gave her invaluable support and help, and that if it weren't for him, she wouldn't have survived on her own in the arena.

Her stories make you imagine him as an angel. Blond curls, sky blue eyes, helping a poor girl from the district, a man with a good heart—everything fit. And you were confirmed in that belief when you saw him for the first time and realised how handsome he really was.

How were you supposed to know then that Coriolanus Snow was really an angel, but a fallen one? How could you recognise the devil through the disguise he had created for himself?

You were certainly not the first or the last to fall under his spell, to believe in the façade of a good man, to see him as a hurt boy who needed love and tenderness. At least you wanted to believe you weren't the only one naive enough to ignore all the clues and signs that he wasn't such a saint after all.

It started inconspicuously. Like all disasters. And you, having lived in District 12 for so long, knew very well what bad fate, misfortune, and catastrophe were.

But nothing could have prepared you for the coming of Coriolanus Snow.

He was charming. Oh God, and how much he was. Sejanus didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, but Snow picked up on every little detail, no matter how insignificant it may have been at first sight. Lucy Gray fell into Plinth's arms. And you became infatuated with a devil who seemed to be as observant as you.

"Lucy Gray's friends are my friends." The brunette guy says that and takes a step forward. You shift your cautious gaze to him, but he doesn't seem to notice that you're wary and reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Sejanus. Nice to meet you."

"Y/N." You say, removing your hand from his grip. "I used to say that too. And then she took me to feed her snakes. The poisonous ones. The worst 3 minutes of my life."

"3 minutes?" He asks curiously. You notice someone moving behind him—another man—who is whispering something to Lucy.

"She ran away screaming." Your friend giggles and throws her arm on Sejanus' shoulder. You roll your eyes at her as she laughs at you, not hiding the smile that begins to form on your lips.

"That's not true. I didn't scream. I saw a rabbit and went hunting." You mutter, feigning offence, which only intensifies her laughter.

"A hunter who is afraid of snakes?"

Someone's question distracts you from Lucy Gray. Behind her, you notice the man who was whispering something to her earlier. He steps out of her shadow and stands a few steps away from you. You look him up and down, and by the way Lucy is comfortable with the other peacekeeper and his appearance, you assume he must be her mentor. Coriolanus Snow. And damn her, he was really hot.

"I am afraid of what I have to be afraid of, private Snow. Just like a hunter should. You never know when the danger will come that you will turn from a predator to a prey." He watches you carefully, listening to your every word. And by the small smile he can't contain, you know that you've managed to make him curious and defend yourself enough for him not to discredit you.

"It's Coryo when we are among friends." He says this, nodding at you. He does not extend his hand to you like Sejanus did, nor does he attempt any other greeting that requires physical contact. Weird. You wonder if he would be attentive enough to sense your discomfort.

"We should get going. The Covey is probably waiting for us. Will you come tomorrow? I think we have a lot to talk about." The brunette asks them with a smile and stands on your other side, taking your arm.

"Su..."

"We will escort you." Coriolanus interrupts his friend, still looking at you. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to you. There are... quite a lot of people hanging around here tonight." His gaze shifts to Lucy Gray for a moment, and he nods for her to lead.

"He may be a rebel, but he is also chivalrous. Come then, gentlemen." She laughs and places her other hand on the crook of Sejanus' elbow. Coriolanus adjusts and walks on your other side, maintaining an appropriate distance, so he is close but not touching you or brushing his arm against yours.

At one point, the crowd of people won't let you walk four in a row, so Lucy and Sejanus take the lead. You and Coryo follow behind them, a little apart. There's a strange silence between you. You shift your gaze to his, and you see that he is already watching you.

"I think I should thank you for saving her. It's not that easy to keep that tramp out of danger. And believe me, I know what I'm saying; I've known her since we were children."

"Yes, she is very… alive. But that was just my job as her mentor." He says this as you both walk down the dark streets. The moonlight and a few lanterns illuminate it so much that you can walk freely in the dark without tripping over any protruding stones.

"Was it also your duty to become a peacekeeper and come to 12?" Your question clearly surprises him. He didn't expect anyone to connect... the events or have the courage to ask him about it. Lucy Gray didn't do it. But you weren't Lucy Gray. You were better. And he was starting to see it.

"It wasn't... planned." He says this and clears his throat, looking at Lucy Gray and Sejanus laughing together about something. "But I'm not going to stay here long."

"Did you come here for her or for him?" You ask, seeing his jaw clench as he watches them both.

"None. I just had to do it." He responds dryly, clearly not wanting to talk about it further. You didn't know who he was jealous of, but you could recognise that feeling in others' eyes perfectly. And he was definitely jealous. You only wondered about what. About Lucy Gray, Sejanus, or just about what was between them?

"A lonely wolf. I see." You comment and turn your head towards the Hanging Tree.

Coriolanus takes the opportunity to get a better look at you. You don't have an outfit as bold and colourful as Lucy Gray. You were rather quiet and thoughtful. He couldn't' say that he wasn't captivated by the aura that his former tribute had around her, but he somehow found himself feeling better in the silence between the two of you than he ever felt around Lucy Gray and her wild personality.

You had also really beautiful eyes.

"And what about you?" He asks, wanting to get your attention again.

At first, he stayed close to you just to spite Lucy Gray, but after she obviously ignored him, he had no intention of talking to you anymore. But something about you drew him to you. And maybe it was your caution; maybe he wanted to break it and set it as a challenge, a distraction while he was in District 12, or maybe he just wanted attention? He did not know. It irritated him how much he wanted to see your eyes sparkling teasingly in the lamplight again. 

"Me?" You looked up at him, giving him your full attention. He almost smiled. Almost.

"Are you remaining here for her or for someone else? I know there is a need for good hunters in many other and better districts. Why are you stuck here when you could be hunting somewhere else? Have a better place to live?" He asks, unable to understand you.

You obviously didn't feel comfortable in District 12. No one could. And he knew from Lucy Gray's histories and his brief observation of your actions that someone like you, with your skills, could easily get a transfer to a wealthier district. But you didn't. He wanted to know why.

"What if I like it here?" You ask with a shrug. He frowns, looking around. You are passing by mouldy buildings, some houses are made of ood—you say it while they walk down the poorest alley in 12. Coriolanus believes he saw a rat running in front of you, but he doesn't want to think about it.

"Here?" He asks with disbelief and a hint of disgust in his voice, to which you giggle, almost laughing.

And instead of Coriolanus being offended and threatening you (he's a peacekeeper after all; he could make you spend a day in detention, and if you were anyone else, he definitely would do that), but somehow Snow can't do anything but smile, while admiring you.

However, he takes his eyes off you, even though he's tempted to look at you longer. He can't afford to have another weakness. To have another Lucy Gray. Although he doesn't think you'd push him away that easily for Sejanus or anyone else, like she did.

You and he were similar. Both of you were withdrawn, silent, observers, taking into account the threats. You did not play heroes with bravado and did not count on good luck, only on their own minds and skills.

"No, not here. I am not mad yet." You say, snapping him from his thoughts."The forests are beautiful. The fields. Rivers and lakes. The rest of Panem is industrialized. Concrete and factories everywhere. There is... a kind of peace here if you close your eyes to certain things. Maybe you will stay here long enough to find out about it by yourself." And something about you—the warm tone of your voice and the sparkles in your eyes as you talk about your favourite places—makes Coriolanus feel a sudden urge to stay here for a while—just as you suggested. Since he was going to be here for a while anyway, he might as well have some fun... right?

"I could use a guide." He says this before he can even think about it, as he sees Lucy Gray slowing down, obviously getting closer to your house.

He didn't know why he cared so much about seeing you again. You were nothing. Just a district hunter. He would leave the 12, find a way to get back to the Capitol, and forget about everything that brought him here. But damn, that little smile of yours made him feel butterflies in his stomach. He was pathetic. And he hated himself for it.

"I can be one."

"Aren't you afraid that people will see you with the peacekeeper?" You raise your eyebrows, shocked by his words. "I saw you looking around. Don't worry. She specifically directs us to streets that are... less frequented." He reveals his observations to you, and for the first time since you two introduced yourself, he sees that the note of fear and caution has disappeared from your eyes for a moment.

Your curious look causes him to have heart palpitations. That was weird for him. Maybe he was sick? He just hoped he hadn't caught anything from those bar rats.

"You really are perceptive, aren't you?" You ask, and he shivers, feeling your analytical gaze on him.

Coriolanus can't say he doesn't enjoy the thrill of excitement as you both try to solve the secrets the other is hiding. Talking to you was… nice. Most of the peacekeepers were as dumb as nails. Muscle mass and nothing else. And he had grown tired of Sejanus's moralising talk a long time ago. Talking to you would be good for him in some way. He wouldn't go completely crazy here. At least that's how he tried to explain to himself his strange and sudden desire to meet you again. And often. Very often.

"I was told so." He says this as you arrive at the door of your house. Coriolanus looks around carefully and is pleased to see that this is one of the better, quieter alleys. He makes a mental note to take more night shifts here. Just to keep an eye on you.

Before you walk into your house with Lucy Gray, you turn to look at him one last time.

"Well, I hope you won't miss the Capitol too much... Coryo." And when his nickname leaves your lips, he knows that this won't be the last time he sees you.

He watches as the door closes behind the two of you, taking in the last sight of you. He returns with Sejanus to their unit, completely ignoring his chatter about Lucy Gray as he thinks about you. Over time, he will find that he will do this more and more often. Thinking about you.

But neither of you knows how much you will regret this night in the future.

You walk up the stairs of the presidential palace wearing a beautiful white dress. Your mask fits to the top of your face, revealing only your mouth, chin and part of your jaw. You feel terrible, but you have to somehow blend in with the crowd of rich assholes who are enjoying their president's birthday party while district children tremble at the thought of the upcoming 22nd Hunger Games.

The only thought that comforts you is that he will die before dawn. And that you can have a glass of champagne.

You give your cloak and fake invitation to some peacekeeper the poor avox who are waiting at the entrance to serve everyone gathered. It makes you want to vomit when you think about how the man you let touch yourself became such a monster who decided to sew their mouths shut instead of cutting out their tongues.

Of course, with a red thread.

You go deeper into the room. You try to stay in the crowd, not on the outskirts, so as not to catch anyone's eye and so HE won't be able to see you. It may have been 12 years, but you're not sure if he forgot about you enough to not recognise your figure in the crowd. Maybe you tormented his nightmares as much as he tormented yours. You hoped to. Bastard didn't deserve to sleep soundly like a baby.

You're standing in a group of people, listening and laughing at the stories being told, and you're about to excuse yourself and browse around the big villa a bit and place some of the traps when suddenly you hear a tapping on a glass. You turn around with the rest of the people, making sure you're neither in the front nor the last row.

You freeze as Coriolanus' voice echoes through the room.

You have prepared for this moment many times. You predicted thousands of different scenarios for your first meeting, after... that special, rainy day at the lake when you went your separate ways. And you thought you were ready to bear the sight of him. But as soon as you look up at him, you feel your heart beat nervously. And not in that exciting way when you see your prey and are ready to attack.

As you sing a forced 'Happy Birthday' with other people after his speech, you allow yourself to steal one brief glance at him. He looks different.

More mature. More dangerous. Stronger. Powerful.

The golden mask, the only one of its kind in the room, covering his nose and just a small part of his face, the part around his eyes and eyebrows, only emphasises this more clearly.

And the red colour of his suit, along with all his... dominant attitude that emanates from him, are enough evidence of the red flag he was that you didn't notice when he was a peacekeeper in a blue uniform. His hair is longer and slicked back with gel, emphasising his rough, hard jawline and piercing blue, icy eyes. The man who stood in the middle of the room was dangerous. So much so that you felt nervous, thinking about how the hell you were going to kill him today.

You had a plan, but you knew that in every pursuit of prey, there were risks that could not be predicted. When hunting a bear, you don't face it with all your strength. You are waiting for the moment to attack. And now, looking at Coriolanus Snow in all his glory, you began to have doubts about your plan and the abilities of the other rebels. Maybe you will have to play the first violin this evening and aim a gun at him yourself. You shiver at even the thought of it.

And then his eyes find yours. For a very short while, but enough to make you shiver under his glance.

He blinks at you, then shifts his gaze to something or someone else. You feel a lump building in your throat, the words of the song being forced out of your mouth with a more and more trembling voice. He recognised you. Or not. You did not know. His subsequent actions didn't indicate it, but he had been staring at you for far too long to be sure of anything.

You don't like how quickly you're losing control.

That's why you leave at the first opportunity, hiding in the bathroom upstairs. You wait for the peacekeeper patrol to pass, and when they go to the second floor, you start setting up traps at the different spots of the presidential palace. You decide to forget about the events from a few minutes ago for a moment. Only peace will save you. You know about it. That's why you do everything to forget about his icy irises.

Well, at least until you have to go back to the ballroom again.

"A little higher." He whispers in your ear behind you, his hand wrapped around yours, as you aim his shotgun at the deer. "Eyes open, breath held, muscles tense."

You shoot and hit the animal. The gun bounces slightly, but Coriolanus holds you close and tight enough that you barely change your position, only trembling slightly as the gun clicks off.

"I prefer arrows, but thanks for showing me how to use it." You say cheekily as you approach the deer you have aimed perfectly at.

He shakes his head at you, slinging the gun over his shoulder. He watches you as you kneel next to the deer, preparing it to be carried to the district.

"You know, my teachings aren't free." He says this as you get up and walk towards the river to wash your hands. He takes the deer's body and obediently follows you.

He had the day off today and decided to use it to spend time with you. Lately, he's been running away from everyone more and more often to walk in the forest with you. You were talking and fooling around. Coriolanus has never felt so... free as with you. He could get used to this. If he hadn't experienced the comforts of the Capitol. He knew you would get used to the capital. Maybe he'd even let you go on little trips and escapades in the woods once he got back there with you as his wife. Of course, only with him. And with peacekeepers guarding you two, he didn't want to end up like his father.

"Isn't it?" You ask with that mischievous smile of yours, washing your hands in the river. "And here I thought you were noble, private Snow."

"Stop it." He growls menacingly as you don't call him by a nickname he loved to hear from your lips. But you can see by the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. A smile spreads across your face as you continue fooling around.

"Only that? You know that I love to tease you too much to just stop..." He cuts you off mid-sentence, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss.

You freeze for a moment, feeling his lips brush against yours and his hand run through the back of your hair. Even if you wanted to pull away from him, you couldn't because of the way he wrapped his hands around you. You should feel trapped and outraged by his behaviour, by the fact that he didn't ask for your permission or leave you the chance to pull away. But all you could do then was grab him by his dog tag and pull him closer to you.

You moan into his mouth as you find out that kissing Coriolanus Snow is the most pleasurable thing in the world.

You place your hands on either side of his neck as he grabs your waist gently, pressing your bodies as close to each other as possible. His lips caress yours gently at first, testing the waters. When he sees that you're not pulling away from him, he deepens the kiss, completely taking over the control that, surprisingly, you willingly give him. You've never been kissed like this in your life. So desperate, so needy, so possessive. And you know that you will never feel this way with anyone else in your life.

And for the first time, you have the opportunity to feel that moment that has been repeated so often in books—kissing someone until you have no more oxygen left in your lungs. Because before him, no one wanted you enough to give you half the sensations that Coriolanus gave you. And you suspected that he felt the same.

"I had this type of payment in mind." He whispers hoarsely, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed, giving you the opportunity to admire his face up close. And god, he's perfect. In all his ounces, you can't even imagine how ethereal he must have been in the Capitol. (The perfect devil, tempting you until you fall.)

"Oh... um... well... be careful… with such a low payment you may be… taken advantage of by some girls." You manage to gasp, gathering the remnants of your mind that weren't occupied with the thought of him and the heavy breathing he was taking because of you.

"There is only one girl in this terrible, musty place, for whose special attention I can get anything she whishes." He says this, opening his eyes and cupping your cheek tenderly. And if your nature were any different (or if he would use a little more of his charm on you), you would melt under his touch, but you couldn't resist the opportunity he gave you.

"Anything, you say..." You mutter in mock thought with a smirk. And all Corilanus can do is smirk stupidly when he sees the familiar spark of malice in your eyes.

He enjoyed challenges, and he liked it even more when he beat you every time in your 'little fights and teasing'. He liked that you weren't completely submissive and that you could fight and banter with him instead of trembling in fear and trusting him blindly. You were almost his equal. Not that he was searching for one. But of all the girls, he knows you were the closest to his perfection. He just needed to work on your compliance a little bit before he could take you with him to the Capitol. After all, you couldn't tease him in public.

"Don't tease." He warns, humming as well, a smirk blooming on his lips despite his attempts to fight it off. He could afford a little... frivolity in the district. He would act completely differently in the Capitol, but for now, he enjoyed every carefree moment with you he could get. He couldn't remember the last time he had had to worry about the opinion of society.

"Oh, but that's the funniest thing to do now..." You continue with a smirk, leaning in to steal a kiss from him. He accepts it with a smile that quickly fades as you pull away from him and run away, laughing.

"And what is this?!" He shouts, running after you.

"A hunting lesson! I won't kiss you for yours in return, Snow!" You reply with a laugh, speeding up.

You ran away from him for an hour until you got tired of it all and ran into him laughing, deciding that he'd had enough of him chasing you for now. He immediately took you into his arms and kissed you, holding you tightly to his chest so that his rapidly beating heart was palpable to you. You placed small kisses on his snout as he held you tightly in his embrace, panting.

"Promise you'll never run away from me. That you'll never leave me." You raise your eyebrows in shock at his request, but you don't question it. You simply nod and press a kiss of promise to his lips as he pushes you against the nearest tree.

Your kiss becomes more feverish, more urgent as you feel his hardness through his peacekeeper uniform. Just a few weeks ago, you would have despised yourself for being so close to him. But it was your Coryo. That's why you don't interrupt him when he unzips your pants and takes them and your underwear off in one move.

You hold your breath as he kneels in front of you and grabs your hips with an iron grip. He presses a kiss on your thighs, teasing you and leaving little bites and bruises there before graciously shifting his attention to where you really need it. You moan, biting your lip to keep from screaming as he slowly circles your clit with his tongue, teasing you to no end. He pushes your hips against the tree every time you try to push against his tongue from a different angle. This frustrates you even more, especially after the gun slung over his shoulder shifts, causing the barrel of the shotgun to dig into your stomach.

"Coryo..." You moan, scratching his head as you try and futilely try to grab his close-cropped hair. He moans at the feeling, stimulating you even more.

He takes pity on you, putting more effort into his work as his fingers start to hit the spot that made you lost your mind. The bark of the tree digs into your back, but all you feel is Coriolanus; your entire world is limited to the movements of his fingers that bring you unimaginable pleasure that cannot be described in any words. All you can do is moan his name, which he finds flattering enough to make you cum around his fingers. Although he had no plan to let you cum when he started to play with your sweet cunt. You were making him too soft for you...

His tongue teases you as he licks along your knee, up your thigh, to stop a few moments before the place where you really needed him to reach your peak of pleasure. He smirks and suddenly bites into your thigh, causing a scream of his name from your lips to echo through the forest. He grunts, licking and sucking the spot on your thigh that he bit, feeling how he hardened in his pants by simply sucking your skin and fingering you. He loved every single sound you made because of him. If tasting you on his lips wasn't as tempting for him as it was for now, he would just kneel there and watch how you kept chasing your orgasm on his fingers.

"Scream for me, my little hunter." He says this and leans forward. His nose teases your clit before he finally licks you, testing your taste. He moans as his favourite flavour spreads across his taste buds. If he had you in the Capitol, he would never starve, he thinks as he begins to fuck you with his tongue, collecting everything that his skillful fingers caused to flow from your little pussy. For him. Because of him. His.

You grip his arms tightly, his gun somehow twisted so that it was pressed against your leg and stomach, but you don't care as he kneels in front of you and sucks the senses out of you through your cunt. You can only moan loudly and scream his name, digging your nails into his shoulders as you pull him closer to you as he makes you come. He licks up everything he gets for his work, leaving nothing to leak from your thighs onto the forest floor.

Coriolanus feels his hardness pressing against his pants, but chooses to ignore it. He won't take you like some district barbarian in the woods. He will do it well. Maybe even in the Capitol... you would look beautiful, wrapped in the most expensive sheets. And while you catch your breath and try to recover, he wonders how he's going to get his little hunter with him back to the Capitol when Dr. Gaul replies to the message he sent her.

He adjusts the gun hanging on his shoulder and stands up, licking his fingers off of the remains of your sweet juices. Unimaginable pride rises in his chest, as does a feeling of possessiveness when he sees your knees shaking and you barely standing, leaning on the tree behind you. He chuckles, remembering the sight. He will definitely think about it, while jerking off himself when he will be alone at the barracks.

"I will always catch you. No matter how long it takes." He says, taking you in his arms when he sees that you're unable to stand on your own in your post-orgasm haze. Another thing that increases his ego.

You didn't know how much that sweet promise would turn out to be a bloodthirsty threat. So you let him carry you through the forest as you both headed back to 12.

The next day, you were delivered money in exchange for the deer you and Private Snow had hunted together. From his superior, Commander Hoff. Even then, he was using you for his own gain.

"Are you lost, miss?" You stop in your quick steps. You curse internally when you hear his voice in the hall. You were about to go downstairs and go to the ballroom. But no. Coriolanus Snow always had to screw up your job.

"Mr. President." You say, trying to change your tone of voice as you turn around and see him. "I was just looking for a spare bathroom."

"Ah yes. Women's ones seem to be… very crowded. Have you made it, little bathroom hunter, or do you need help?" He asks, walking over to you. He shouldn't be here. Certainly not that close to you. Meg was supposed to focus his attention on her and flirt with him. You didn't know what the hell he was doing on the first floor instead of in the ballroom celebrating his birthday.

And when he called you a hunter, you tried your hardest not to shiver in fear at the thought of him seeing through you. But if he recognised you, would he act so... calm around you? Peacekeepers would probably have surrounded you long ago if he had...

"I did it, Mr. President. Ah! Happy birthday! May you watch over us for a very long time." You wish him well, and he just smiles. This isn't one of his forced, political smiles. No.

It was a wolfish smile, a dangerous one. The one that he had a habit of showing you when he managed to outsmart you tracked you down in the forests of District 12.

"Thank you, my darling. You wouldn't deny a man his birthday wishes, would you?" A shiver runs through you as his irises focus on you. His tone is quieter and darker as he asks you a seemingly innocent question. But you know very well that nothing about Coriolanus Snow is innocent.

"Of course not, Mr. President." You reply courteously, already afraid of what he might want from you.

"Great. May I then?" He asks, sticking out his hand as he asks you to dance with a polite smile (if the devil can wear one).

"With great pleasure." You say, placing your hand in his. Without knowing why, you feel like you're putting it in the mouth of a lion... or in this case, a snake.

He holds your hand tightly as he helps you down the stairs. He doesn't let go of you for a second, and once you reach the dance floor, he wraps his arm around your waist and presses you against him, making you feel all his muscles hidden under his clothes. His eyes also never leave yours, which makes you very uncomfortable. Your anxiety only gets greater as you can't see the faces of the other members of your rebellion in the room.

"Nervous? Don't worry. You dance great." The smirk never leaves his face. And that's the kind of sly smirk. Of course, you dance great. After all, he taught you that himself in District 12.

"Thank you, Mr. President." At one point, the dance requires him to turn you around and press your back against his chest. You shiver as you feel his breath on your neck, then on your ear as he leans down, so he is very close to you.

"Do you think I'm stupid enough not to recognise you, Y/N? That I don't dream about you every night? That I didn't notice you when you and your ridiculous group of district dogs burst into my presidential palace?" You struggle, trying to break free from his grip, but he only grips your hip tighter, enough to surely leave bruises in the form of his fingers.

Coriolanus presses his lips against your temple and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. You shiver in his arms at the familiar feeling of his closeness. You feel the gun hidden under his vest press against the back of your back. A tender reminder of how you both were still enemies and a deadly threat to each other.

His hands roam over your body, exploring you as much as he can manage in a crowd of people. But you doubt anyone would dare point out how he presses his crotch against your ass, forcing you to feel every last bit of him as he continues whispering darkly into your ear. "I've been hunting you for so many years... only for you to come running straight to me, as always. I honestly couldn't have asked for a better birthday present. Let's play a game. Our favourite, darling. Try to escape, my little hunter." He hums as he finally lets go of you.

You're not wasting your time.

You don't turn to see him smirking mockingly, to see the way his cheeks have turned slightly pink from the adrenaline and excitement coursing through his veins, or to see the way the bulge in his pants has become slightly more visible.

You run away from him without looking back, pushing through the crowd of people who are leaving in panic after the announcement that they must leave the villa immediately as a result of the detection of an attempted assassination of the head of state.

But not everything is lost yet.

You saw a few familiar faces in the crowd of people, including Meg and Joseph. And you know that if you want to save your plan and the members of the rebellion, then you have to get Coriolanus' full attention. Make him drop his guard and focus entirely on you.

That's why instead of trying to escpae you stop at the foot of the stairs leading to the first floor.

You watch the crowd of people storming towards the exit. Peacekeepers are pushing through them, some trying to catch the more suspicious ones and interrogate them; everyone is focused on the exit door. So you had to go upstairs. You see Coriolanus slowly walking out of the ballroom. He looks around for you, and when his eyes catch yours, he stops, examining you. You kick off your high heels and run upstairs.

You run forward, hearing the clatter of his shoes close behind you.

You avoid all the traps you have set and hide in one of the rooms. Your feet feel icy from the cool marble you're walking on, but you don't pay much attention to it. Your heart is racing, and you try to breathe as quietly as possible as you hide behind the curtain, listening.

The first thing he does is open all the doors. Of course, carefully and not by himself. He was fully aware that you might have some unpleasant surprises in store for him. He was made very aware of it by one of the peacekeepers who went with him and unlocked the mechanism that caused his beautiful crystal chandelier to fall on the soldier's head.

The maids will have to clean the blood from the white marble again. The next time he renovates the villa, he will have to think about a more... useful floor colour.

"Guard the remaining floors and all exits. Two of you stand by the stairs. I'll take care of this one myself. You go and catch the rest of these street rats." He orders them in a dry tone.

He knows full well that he can fight you alone, and he will do it much better than this bunch of idiots. You weren't just a pure force. You were the mastermind. And only Coriolanus was smart enough to follow your way of thinking and catch you. Just like he always did.

You hold your breath as you hear the footsteps of the peacekeepers spreading across the floor. Only Coriolanus remains. You hear his breathing and his slow, methodical steps. You can imagine him analyzing the hall, looking for traps and potential threats you could prepare for him.

"You know you can't escape, right?" he begins, his footsteps echoing off the walls of the empty, silent corridor. "You've been slipping out of my hands for too long, little hunter. Do you think I don't remember our lessons? That I don't know your systems and customs? I don't know that you packed the entire presidential palace with your little surprises. What a pity that you will never catch me in any of them..."

You hear him enter the room next to you. He drops something to the floor and steps away, closing the door with a bang as the mechanism activates, spreading corrosive gas across the room that was intended to hurt him.

"Really? Such a school trick? I thought you knew better than to test such... childish methods on me, darling. I remember you telling me about something like this after a particular night at your apartment. Can you believe that I remember much better those lessons during which you were moaning and screaming my name?" He chuckles, sinisterly, darkly at the memory.

And then you hear a step. And another one. And another one. Slow, unhurried, and careful. It was so quiet that you wouldn't have heard them if the villa wasn't as quiet as it is now.

He was approaching you slowly and saliently, just as you taught him all those years ago. As usual, he turned out to be a very talented student.

"I never thought you'd be a rebel. After all, you were always so submissive to me... especially under me. And wanting me dead... you know I've killed and turned into Avox for lesser crimes against me and the Panem? But don't worry... your mouth and tongue are too useful for me to take the pleasure they can give away from me ever again."

He starts whistling, checking another room. As you hear him pulling the covers off the bed, you slowly emerge from your hiding place. You take a small step closer to the bathroom and freeze as the floor creaks beneath you.

"Spikes embedded in the mattress? Were you hoping to seduce me and put me on this deathbed? We can always try this... on a less lethal mattress, of course. What would you say, little hunter? Pardon. My sweet rebel?" You close the door quietly behind you and look around the dark room. Window. Maybe if you could open it...

"All these years, and you still use the same perfume." He grunts and closes the door behind him. You shudder, realising that he knows you're in this room. You tighten your hand on the knife hidden in the sleeve of your dress and wait in the cold bathroom for his next steps. "Don't you have a little Deja vu? It reminds me of when you and Lucy Gray ran away from me. That bitch is still hiding. I suspect you don't know where, but you are in contact through some letters or something. As soon as I find her, I will kill her on the spot. I know very well that she was the reason you left me. Don't get me wrong, I'm also angry at you for that... but not as mad as I am at her."

After Sejanus was hanged, he and you planned to escape together. And God, you loved it. You would have sacrificed your whole life for him if it weren't for Lucy Gray, who told you the truth about your beloved devil. So when he came out of the cottage near the lake, worrying about how you had been gone for too long and looking for you with a gun in his hand, you ran away.

"Y/N! Y/N, where are you?! Y/N! Y/N! I will find you! There is no fucking place you can hide from me! Can you hear me, hunter?! NO FUCKING PLACE! YOU ARE MINE! YOU WILL BE ALWAYS MINE! I will mark you like cattle and tie you to my side forever!"

You dream of his screams at some night.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me! You lying bitch!"

You hear his footsteps in the other room as he opens the curtains and checks to see if you're outside the window.

"You think I won't find you?! That you can crawl into a hole that I can't get you out of?! YOU'RE MINE, Y/N! Alive or dead, I don't care! YOU BELONG TO ME!"

You hear him take steps towards the closet, opening it and throwing things out, making sure it's empty. You hear him knocking over several items—the bed, the armchairs. You hold your breath as there is complete silence. He's probably looking at the bathroom door.

You feel your heart beating in your chest just as fast as it did that day when you hid from him as he walked around with a gun, screaming and calling for you. And you almost left. You almost left, wanting to fall into his arms as he kneeled in the middle of the forest and cried, smelling his mother's scarf that he gave you and which was saturated with your scent. But before you could, he screamed and started shooting at the mockingjays in the trees. So you ran away.

And you've been running away since then, hoping that you were a terrible teacher to him and that he would never find you...

"If you leave willingly, I will spare you the unpleasant part, my little rebel. Maybe you can even convince me to forget your transgressions completely… well within reason. However, I suspect that my bed is more comfortable than the floor of a prison cell. Don't you think?"

Maybe if he had used a less mocking tone, if you hadn't heard the pleasure dripping from his voice at his superiority over you and the excitement at catching you, then maybe you would have left willingly. You shake your hand, holding the knife tighter in your hand. No. You wouldn't leave and let him catch you without a fight. He has done too much to you and to other district people to pretend he's not a monster.

"I count to three." You hold your breath, stopping yourself from shaking. The cool air gives you goosebumps as you wait for him to take a step closer to the bathroom's door. "One."

You hear the rustle of fabric; he must have taken off his jacket and probably his mask too. You reach up to your face and untie your own mask, taking it off with a trembling hands.

"Two." Before he enters the room, you hide, so you're standing behind the door, which Coriolanus opens before he counts to three.

Another trick you taught him. Act unpredictably. Don't warn the prey about your next step, and don't let it catch you by surprise.

That's why Coriolanus stands still when he sees the bathroom window open. Your mask lies on the windowsill, taunting him as the moonlight reflects off the silver thread from which it was sewn and glows, tempting him to follow the trail.

That's why, as soon as he comes to the window, you quickly step out from behind the door and close it behind you with a bang.

A moment later, you hear his curses and quick footsteps. You run forward and enter the next room, being careful not to activate any mechanisms. Just as you close the door behind you, you feel him grab the handle on the other side.

In a panic, you do the same and pull the door towards you, wrestling with him. You know it won't get you very far. Coriolanus was stronger than you. He would get inside quickly. You had to think of another way to escape and create distance between you.

"That's enough, Y/N! We had fun, but that's it. You have no way to escape. You know it damn well! Be a good girl and get out." He growls at you, trying to push the door open and get inside.

"So you can kill me?! Hang me like Sejanus?!" You ask angrily, wrestling with him at the door. You feel yourself getting weaker, so you make an instinctive decision. You let go of the door and ran to the window, opening it. You turn around as the door slams shut. You two are standing in the same room again.

You look at each other carefully. You both breathe quickly, analysing each other's possible movements.

"You know I would never hurt you." He starts by taking a small step towards you. You step back to the open window, and he freezes. You may have been on the first floor, but the presidential palace was huge. If you jump out, you will smash into the asphalt and die. And he won't win. Coriolanus cannot afford this. That's why he's standing still for now.

"You killed people. How was I supposed to know I wouldn't be next?" You accuse him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Your mind analyses all the possibilities. You're tempted to jump. Free yourself from him once and for all. Make him lose. Although this time.

"You could have trusted me. Just a little longer."

"Sorry, I have a survival instinct. Very strong survival instinct." You say this, avoiding his gaze. He takes advantage of your distraction and takes a step towards you, which you don't notice because you are too busy thinking of an escape plan.

"Not that big since you came here. For what? To kill me? Will you stab me in the heart, Y/N? Will you shoot me? Will you poison me?"

"You left me no other choice." You growl at him, furious, tightening your grip on the dagger.

"You don't want to do this. I know you. If you really wanted me to fall into a trap, you'd make it so that I couldn't move my damn foot an inch without activating something. So I'll ask again. Why did you come here?"

You do not know. Really. You can't answer his question.

Because... Yes, you hated him. And yes, you despised him. And yes, you were afraid of the monster he had become. But nothing could change the fact that, deep down, you loved him. You cried hundreds of tears because of him, which ricocheted off the walls of the wall you so eagerly built around yourself and your stupid hearth so no one else would be able to hurt you again. You didn't let anyone else get to know you. Not like Coriolanus did. He was the only one who saw the real you. The part of you that you were so afraid to show anyone else or to even look at them by yourself.

"Y/N. Look at me." It's not a request. This is a command. Subtle, but still. And you know, that's all he'll give you. Commands, expectations.

Never look your prey in the eyes. The first rule you taught him. The only one he always broke.

Maybe because of sadism? Maybe he enjoyed watching realisation shine in his victims' eyes as they realised he was winning. But you can't resist following his command and looking into those icy irises you once knew so well.

Or maybe he really cared about you more than anyone else. You'd like to believe that.

"I can give you everything. The whole world. All you have to do is trust me." He says, taking a few steps closer to you. You bite your lip. You can try to run away, but you know he will catch you. You weren't on your own turf. And he had a hundred tracking dogs, ready to find you. Crook.

"Trust you? After everything you've done?" You mock him. But he doesn't answer. There is perfect silence in the room.

Before you know it, he runs towards you. He activates the mechanism, causing a crossbow arrow to pierce his arm. He ignores it in favour of reaching out to you. He quickly injects something into your neck, holding you tightly against his chest. You stabbed him in the stomach. His blood spurts onto your dress as he makes sure you can't move, ignoring his wounds for a moment. Of course, he retaliates by tightening his grip on you, leaving his fingerprints on your skin.

"So you chose the hard path. Too bad, my little hunter. For you. I'll be damned glad to have the opportunity to train you. I will make you the perfect first lady, my darling." He whispers in your ear, and as you fall unconscious in his arms, you realise one terrifying thing. He caught you. He won this round.

You have to put plan B into action all alone.

You foresaw that your plan might fail and that someone would betray you. That's why you and Meg came up with... a contingency plan. After all, you had to keep your promise.

You're not leaving this presidential palace until you see the life drain from Coriolanus Snow. It will be your prison until then. A golden cage. No matter how long it will take... Or at least try to convince yourself that you have to do it. Because you know you must do it for the good of Panem. That you can't back down from anything at the next opportunity. You can't hesitate. No matter how much you will be drunk on the blame and pain of killing him.

It was a game of survival. A game only you and Coriolanus knew how to play. You had to win. For the good of people. To stop the suffering he caused.

After all, the caged wolf was still a threat. Even for poisonous snakes.

PART 2 (last)

[r473n]

BLEACH SMUTFEST 2025

DAY 1: AU

Mayuri x Kenpachi x reader (kinda)

Modern Gang AU

In a world of violence and territory wars, there's very little time for love.

But even at the darkest hour, beautiful connections can still blossom...

... or reader gets Zaraki and Mayuri to do it!

Link to Ao3 or click more!

+18 ONLY below the cut!!!

Tw: drugs, stabbing, blood, anal sex, rimming, voyeurism

You’re working behind the bar of the Kuchiki family restaurant, too engrossed in cleaning and tidying up to register much of the outer world.

It’s been a boring day and all you really want is to catch up with the guys, but you need to tend to your responsibilities first.

Two big and burly men enter and sit down on the stools.

“Hiya!” You greet them with a tired smile. “I'm sorry, we’re five minutes to closing so I can only do a quick drink for you guys, no cocktails or food, I'm afraid.”

One of them engages you in small talk - how a quick drink is all they need tonight, what a lovely weather you’re recently having, how they used to come to this pub years ago... blah, blah, blah. There’s something about the other customer that bugs you, he’s quietly looking around, but you don’t want to seem rude so you follow the conversation and nod and laugh at the right times.

You turn your back to them to serve the drinks and immediately regret it. Both men jump the bar, one goes to the small office, the other immobilises you against his chest, his hand pressed against your mouth.

You try to squirm free and instinctively bite down on his fingers until he let’s go of you, yelping in pain.

“ZARAKI!!!” You scream at the top of your lungs, drowning him out. “ZARAK-“

Your breath hitches in your throat as a knife sinks into your flesh, as easily as if you were made of air. Once, twice, three times.

You look down in shock, a rapidly growing circle of blood staining your apron. And it’s only when you try to scream again that you feel the pain, a sharp pang that spreads from the wound to your spine and has you doubled down in agony.

Enter Zaraki Kenpachi, six-foot-seven tall giant made of raw muscle and masculinity. A long, nasty scar running down the side of his face, long black hair falling down his back. He wears his suit trousers tight, and his white shirt unbuttoned at the top.

Even those who don’t know of his bloody reputation scurry in fear when they see his menacing looks.

Then a thud and a growl and feet scrambling to find purchase on the tiled floor in their haste to run away. The thugs manage to escape, mostly unscathed, having failed in their mission to steal valuable information on the movements of the Kuchiki clan, one of the most influential gangs of the underworld.

Zaraki's calloused fingers lift your chin. “Are you ok- oh, shit!” he sees the blood and turns to grab a cloth. “Hold this against the wound, harder.” You comply and the next instant you’re being lifted bridal style and rushed through the back door, down four flights of stairs and into the basement, where you lose consciousness.

“Now, how many times do I have to tell you to STOP BOTHERING ME?!” Kurotsuchi's angry voice can be heard the moment Zaraki storms through the door. He’s somewhere there, beyond the thick plastic curtains, in amongst the multiple tanks, tubs of chemicals and machines.

“Where the fuck are you, Kurotsuchi!?” Zaraki’s anxiety is palpable. He takes you to the operating table. The one where he himself lies down often, to have bullets and shrapnel cut out from his body. “KUROTSUCHI!”

“I'm here... You don’t have to be that loud, barbarian, I'm not that deaf.” Mayuri approaches leisurely, his lab coat doing nothing to hide just how eccentric he is. Short and thin, wearing ripped skinny jeans and black doc martens, his blue nails and spiked up mohawk only add to the grunge vibe of all his piercings and body mods. “What do you want?” he asks, unaware still, eyes on his phone, thumbs flying over the keyboard.

“What the fuck do you think I want? Help me!”

That gets his attention, he looks up and all the colour drains from his face despite the goth make-up that normally conceals most of his expressions.

“You moron! Why didn’t you say anything!” he throws himself at you, his eyes scanning your body. “Help me take their clothes off!”

“Uh? What... uh... I don’t know about that.”

“How the hell am I supposed to fix them otherwise, you pea-brained troglodyte?” Mayuri scoffs, slicing your top open with a pair of scissors. “There’s nothing sexual about this, so stop covering your eyes and HELP ME.”

For over an hour, the two men work in semi-silence, Mayuri gives the orders and demands instruments be handed over; Zaraki swears and curses under his breath, but does what he’s told.

At the end, Mayuri has managed to stop the bleeding, suture your lacerations and has left an almost invisible scar across your abdomen.

“Huh... now what?” Zaraki asks in a whisper.

“Now we wait for the anaesthesia to wear off.”

“Will they be ok?”

Mayuri seems to hesitate before flashing him an angry scowl. “They would be grand if you had done your job in the first place!”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, aren’t you head of security? Isn’t it your duty to keep us all safe? What were you doing?”

“For your information I was through in the restaurant having a well-deserved drink after a fucking long day!”

“Well-deserved? How absurd! You don’t deserve anything for doing the bare minimum.”

“The bare min-? You’re one to talk! You hide here in your creepy lab making drugs and think you’re a big, tough man, when I'm the one risking my neck every day. It’s fucking rough out there! I don’t see you making sure our borders are respected, making sure no other gangs try to sell in our turf, or standing in front of Lord Kuchiki when some fucker tries to take him out!”

“Yuk! You don’t have to call him Lord when he can’t hear you. I know fair well you despise the man as much as I do.”

“Huh! Yeah, that may be. But, how do I know he’s not got the whole place bugged? I ain’t risking my job.”

“Trust me, there are no bugs in my lab. I’d know, I check daily.”

“Tsk, only you would be that paranoid.”

“Call it what you will, I like to be prepared.” You twitch in your sleep, mumbling something incoherent. Mayuri directs his attention to the multiparameter, to ensure everything is still under control. “You should go home, Zaraki, they might not wake for a few hours.”

“What about you? Aren’t you exhausted after all that?”

“I'm always exhausted.” Mayuri sighs, stretching his arms over his head, his spine cracking. “Perks of the job.”

“Here.” Zaraki stands behind him and starts to massage his sore shoulders.

“Wha- what are you doing?”

“Stop wriggling, I'm trying to help you relax.”

Kurotsuchi considers arguing further, not one to normally enjoy physical touch, but it feels so good. Zaraki squeezes and rubs his tight muscles with ease, making quick work of the knots on his upper back. “You have very good hands...” he praises reflexively.

“Imagine what else they can do...”

His eyes fly open. Is that man flirting with him? “Huh... I bet they’d feel good in other places, too.”

Zaraki barks a gruff laugh. “Wanna check for yourself?” he purrs seductively in his ear.

“You guys... get a room.” You mutter weakly. Your body feels heavy and tired, but Mayuri’s chemical expertise ensures you’re mostly pain free.

The two men rush to your side, worried faces that make you want to laugh with fondness.

“Are you ok?” Zaraki asks.

“You've lost some blood, so you will feel a little drowsy, but your wounds should heal in a few weeks.” Mayuri interjects before you can answer. “How’s the pain?”

“I don’t feel much, whatever you’ve given me is some gooood shit.”

The scientist smirks at you, gold crowns glistening in the dim light. “I only create the best shit.”

You smile and put your hand on his arm. “So... where were you guys? Please don’t stop on my account.”

“Uh? We weren’t anywhere.” Zaraki frowns, confused.

“Not true.” You retort. “You were just about to make out.”

Both men recoil, blushing intensely. Mayuri being the first to clear his throat to reply. “Nonsense, I wouldn’t touch this idiot with a 10-foot pole.”

“Oi! I'm a fucking catch, I'll have you know!” the hitman complains.

You titter softly, feeling your sutures strain a little. “Oh, come on... I almost died just then, do it for me?”

“What do you think I am? A for hire whore?” Mayuri shakes his head no in disbelief.

“No one would pay for that, Kurotsuchi.” Zaraki chuckles, “You want us to make out... to make you feel better?”

You nod your head. “Pretty please?”

The truth is, you’ve been trying to get the two men to lower their defences and finally give in to their feelings for each other for months now. But they are just so incredibly stubborn that, no matter what you try, they always end up bickering and ruining the moment.

They look at each other, wondering if they’ve lost their mind.

“I'm willing if you are.” Zaraki shrugs.

“Oh, please... hold back your enthusiasm.” the scientist rolls his eyes. Zaraki wrenches him by the lapel of his lab coat and crashes their lips together in a brutal kiss, all teeth and vexation.

You want to squeal with glee!

It only takes a few seconds for Mayuri to melt into it and stop struggling, his hands find the back of Zaraki’s neck and pull him down to deepen the kiss, tongues coming out to play.

A while later they separate, lips swollen red and cheeks flushed.

“Is that... uh... was that enough?” Mayuri stammers, averting his gaze and shuffling to conceal the bulge in his crotch.

“I'm afraid not.” You reply, grinning mischievously. “I feel like you guys didn’t really put your everything into it, you know?” You slide your hand beneath the hem of your trousers to rub circles over your clit.

“Oh, shit...” Zaraki’s hungry eyes follow every one of your movements. “Fuck, Kurotsuchi, what the hell have you given them?”

“Nothing!” Mayuri squeals defensively. “Only analgesia, this level of randiness has nothing to do with me!”

“I'm not the only one with a boner right now, look at yourselves, boys.” You say, nodding at their respective obvious erections.

“Huh... who would have thought you were such a freak...” Zaraki lets out an amused laugh. “You get off on watching, uh? And I always thought you were just a little innocent creature.”

“I am... until I'm not!” you answer with a giggle.

“This is ridiculous! We’re not going to have sex in front of you just to satisfy your voyeuristic kink!” Mayuri huffs, crossing his hands over his chest.

“Why not? It’s hot.” Zaraki’s sneaks a hand around his waist and pulls him flush with his chest. “Been wanting to do this for a while now, why waste the chance.”

Mayuri pretends to struggle, but he can’t fool you. The way he looks at Kenpachi when he thinks no one is watching... he’s been thirsting for that man and you can’t blame him.

One kiss turns into many, and both of them seem to forget about the world. A blur of hands groping and exploring, tugging at clothes until they are bare. Zaraki is devouring the smaller man’s neck, turning him into a panting, sighing mess. Mayuri lets himself be manhandled onto a nearby desk, his nails carving pink tracks on Zaraki’s muscular back.

“Be careful! Those beakers are expensive!” he gripes.

As a wordless answer, Zaraki swipes a large hand over the table, knocking everything off it and pushes him flat against the surface. “I don’t give a fuck. You got lube?”

“Why on earth would I carry lube with me?”

“Tsk, fine.”

Zaraki kneels down and buries his face between his legs, dragging his tongue all around his ass, licking and slurping until he’s covered in spit, stretching him with one, two, three fingers. When it looks like the scientist can’t take much more before cumming, Kenpachi stands back up, and hiking his ankles up to his shoulders, he breaches him in one slow thrust. In to the hilt he stops, allowing both of them a moment to adjust, before he sets up a lively rhythm that soon grows into a frantic smacking of his hips against Mayuri’s ass.

Their pants and moans go in crescendo as does their desire. You are absolutely drenched, fingering yourself in synchronicity with their thrusts, rubbing your clit with your thumb.

They hold onto each other for dear life as they approach their orgasm. Kurotsuchi goes first, after begging him to go harder, throwing his head back and releasing a dirty moan, his cock twitching and spurting thick ropes of cum all over his chest. Zaraki follows shortly after, hammering his hips faster and faster until he bursts inside him with a deep grunt.

The debauched show has your pussy contracting unsatisfactorily around your fingers, you wish you could orgasm with them, but your body is much too tired for it. You let out a resigned sigh and smile, watching them stare into each other’s eyes as they come down from their high.

“That was so cute.” You chirp, if only to watch them blush once again.

“Cute? Way to make a man feel small.” Zaraki chuckles, pulling out slowly.

“There was absolutely nothing cute about that. Your performance was adequate.” Mayuri’s attempt at regaining his composure, cum dribbling down his legs as he breathlessly searches for his underwear, is completely risible.

“Adequate? That’s even worse!” Zaraki whines, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“It was fine!” Kurotsuchi grumbles, pulling his top over his head. “Some minor details that we can refine over time, that’s all.”

“Over time?” You shout excitedly. “That mean there’s going to be more of this?”

“None of your business!” the shorter man retorts. “It’s not like you’re invited.”

Zaraki winks at you. “I mean, we kinda owe them.”

“Ugh! Whatever. But not until they’ve healed. You two aren’t messing with my sutures!” Kurotsuchi finally concedes.

“Can I participate too?” You don’t know where you get the cheek to even pose the question, but you can’t help but feel a little giddy when both men stare questioningly at each other and then hungrily at you.

“Maybe.” They say in unison.

[archangeldyke-all]

hii! i was wondering if you could write sev and reader meeting little fucker’s girlfriend? like, little fucker invites her girlfriend over for dinner with sev and reader and sev is super protective over little fucker and accidentally ends up coming off as threatening to little fucker’s girlfriend?

love love love omg

men and minors dni

"okay, she'll be here in three minutes, i'm begging you all-- please just be cool." little fucker begs from where she's pacing a hole in the carpet in front of the front door. you chuckle.

"i'm cool." you say. your daughter huffs.

"you're not the one i'm worried about." she says, glaring at sevika and her sisters where they're whispering to eachother.

baby shithead giggles from the huddle, then breaks off to run to the basement. "be right back!" she calls.

"where are you going?! she's gonna be here any second!" little fucker screams.

the doorbell rings, and little fucker gasps, straightening out her clothes and giving herself one final look over in the mirror. you giggle, kissing your eldest daughter's head.

"you look great." you assure her.

"you do." sevika agrees.

"i'll get it!" stinky butt shouts from where she's swinging open the front door.

"no!" little fucker wails.

"uh... hi?"

all of you turn to the front door, where little fucker's new girlfriend stands.

beside you, you can feel sevika's posture stiffen as she tries to make herself look even taller than usual. you snort and elbow her, and she elbows you right back.

sevika tried to be the cool laid-back mom when little fucker first started dating, she really did. but after your daughter's heart was broken by that cheating bitch, sevika's protective instincts have been on high alert, and she's made no effort to reign them in.

you kinda love it. you love seeing your wife go mama bear mode.

still, though. you'd like to not completely humiliate your daughter tonight-- just slightly embarrass her. it builds character.

"come on in honey, we're all so excited to meet you!" you greet your daughter's new girlfriend. little fucker mouths a 'thank you' to you. you wink at her as you guide her girlfriend inside. "i heard your favorite is italian so we're having pasta night, dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes, can i get you a soda or water?"

"a water would be great, thank you."

your daughter cringes, then tugs your hand. "don't leave-- mom's gonna grill her!" she whispers as you walk toward the kitchen.

"well i can't let your girlfriend die of dehydration, now can i?" you ask.

your daughter groans and then sprints back into the living room to protect her girlfriend from her mom and sisters questions.

you take your time in the kitchen, stirring the various sauces you've got going on the stove, giving sevika a little time to scare the girl a bit.

when you re-enter the living room, you almost cackle at the sight you find.

your baby shithead's found all your old family photo albums, and she and stinkybutt are flipping through and happily showing off all of their big sister's most embarrassing baby pictures to her date.

little fucker's got her face buried in her hands, groaning and possibly dying, while her girlfriend grins down at the photo albums, occasionally snapping pictures on her phone, presumably to use as blackmail against your daughter.

sevika's got a little smirk on her lips, rubbing little fucker's back as she shouts out suggestions to the twins of embarrassing pictures to find.

"so..." you guide the twins to sit, trying to resist the urge to join in on embarrassing your eldest. "how did you two meet?" you ask, handing your daughter's girlfriend her water.

she takes a big sip, and little fucker takes her distraction as an oppertunity to slam the photobook closed and toss it behind the couch. she mouths another 'thank you' at you. you giggle and wink at her again.

"we had study hall together last year... she was always editing my papers for me." your daughter's girlfriend turns a sweet shade of pink as she reminisces. little fucker reaches over and squeezes her hand, an equally flustered smile on her lips.

"she's so good at writing, she just thinks too fast to get all her ideas down properly. so i helped her make a little more sense. but really, i learned more by reading her papers than i did in class." your daughter gushes.

you smile and sit beside sevika. she huffs-- disappointed by how fucking adorable the pair seem to be.

"when'd you guys become girlfriends?" baby stinkybutt asks, empasizing the word girlfriends like it's a naughty word-- like she doesn't have two moms. you snort and flick her head. she giggles mischievously.

"well... this year we share three classes and we just started spending more and more time together..."

"i asked her exactly thirty days after i found out she was single again."

"wha-- really?" your daughter asks, turning to her girlfriend.

she nods. "i wasn't sure when it would be appropriate to make a move but i'd liked you for forever and... i dunno, i looked it up online, the internet said a month was enough time to get over a shitty relationship..."

well, that's just stupidly sweet. even sevika melts a little at this, leaning into your side a bit at the innocent teenage love.

"that's so cute, babe." little fucker gushes before leaning forward and kissing her girlfriends cheek. baby shithead starts to pretend to throw up. you have to muffle your laugh behind your hand.

"who's ready for dinner?" you ask.

dinner goes relatively well.

you learn a lot about your daughter's new beau, and you can clearly see how naturally the two get along. she's a good sport about all the teases too, acting properly embarrassed each time sevika tries to interrogate her, or the twins try to tease her.

there's one moment in the night where you briefly fear that you'll have to give the poor girl the heimlich.

the twins are freshly ten, on the verge of starting puberty but still kids enough to be grossed out by the sexier aspects of life. they're simultaneously fascinated and freaked out by their older sister's new relationship. which leads to stinkybutt piping up during a lull in the conversation, threateningly pointing her fork at your guest. "you know you're only allowed to touch my sister's butt with her permission, right? it's called 'consent'. and mom says we get to beat you up if you don't do it right."

sevika bursts into bright laughter, pulling stinkybutt in for a noogie as little fucker and her girlfriend both start to sputter and choke on their food.

"what is wrong with you people?" little fucker wails. "ma, thanks for dinner it was great, but we're done now, right babe?" she asks, looking at her girlfriend.

her girlfriend's still choking. she nods through her coughs.

little fucker grabs her wrist and takes off for her bedroom. "we'll come back down later for dessert, do not come in my room before knocking!"

"keep it pg-13!" sevika hollers.

"shut the fuck up!" your daughter squeals.

at the dining table, your wife and twins burst into laughter.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @micronreadzztuff22

[yan-maid-cafe]

Yandere Spirit

Imagine you never truly escaped your yandere...

You couldn't remember how long you had been locked in that psycho's basement. Chained to the wall day in and day out. Having him insist on changing your clothes himself and hand feeding you all your meals. Having to deal with his jealousy and rage. It was a nightmare.

So of course when you got a chance you had to take it. You couldn't let this opportunity slip through your grasp. So you secretly managed to pick the lock on your shackles and waited for him to let his guard down. Using that moment of defencelessness to pry the kitchen knife out of his hand anf plunging it into his chest. Stabbing him again and again and again, until you saw the life leave his eyes.

You finally ran out of the house, still covered in your admirer's blood screaming for help. Running all the way to the police station. Though as you told them your story, you could get over the feeling of eyes staring into the back of your head.

The trial went by, you got away with the murder being an act of self-defence, and you tried to get back to your life. You tried to get over the past. Going to a therapist, getting on meds, getting back in contact with your friends and family. It was hard but you wanted to get back to your life. Make up for the months stolen from you. Though no matter how hard you tried, you could never shake the sinking feeling that you were being watch. Just like before...

You tried to force the thought away. The fucker was dead, you saw it with your own two eyes, you caused it with your own two hands. You were just paranoid. But everything was so strange anymore. It felt like history was repeating.

Things in your room would change location, doors you swore you had closed would open on their own, and you still felt those eyes staring at you. It was just like last time...

That's when you started calling the police and the hospital and the morgue. All for confirmation. And they all said the same, he was dead and buried. So why couldn't that calm you? Why did it feel like a lie? Why were you convinced he was still there? That he was still watching you.

...

Then that night came. Being woken up by the sound of the phone ringing. It was an unknown number. You tried to ignore it. Rejecting the call and curling up back in bed, only for the phone to ring again. Checking the number, it was the exact same as before. Ignoring the call again, you didn't even get the time to roll over before the phone rang yet again. You finally answered, ready to demand an explanation from whoever was on the other side. Only for your voice to die in your throat.

"It's me, Darling~..."

Your blood ran cold. It was him. How was he calling you? He was supposed to be dead...

"Oh, how I've missed you. I've been so lonely without you..."

You killed him. You watched him die. How was he doing this? He was supposed to be gone...

"But that all changes tonight..."

How could this happen? What did you do to deserve this? You thought...

"Because I'm finally taking you with me..."

You thought you were finally free...

[lovelybucky1]

Bad Guys Win

Kinktober Day 13- Knife Kink

part two of "nice guys finish last" but can be read as standalone fic

warnings: AFAB!reader, horror movies, referenced violence, knife play, dirty talk, under negotiated kink, dom/sub dynamics, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Ever since that night Anakin got you high and confessed his desire for you, you've been spending a lot more time together. You're still just friends, but now your relationship has a lot more benefits than it did prior.

Tonight Anakin invited you over because he had the house to himself. It was far too casual to be a date, but he got pizza delivered and there was cold beer on the table, so at least he made an effort.

You had no delusions about why you were there. It's a hookup between friends. Good friends, sure. Ones who care about each other very deeply, but it was still just sex.

That's why you were confused when Anakin grabbed your arm and led you down the stairs to the basement. It's technically unfinished, but it was a large area rug, a couch, and a TV hooked up with your brother's PlayStation.

He told you it was movie night and rifled through the shelf of movie cases. He chose Friday the 13th because it was fitting for the day. You fondly rolled your eyes at his joke and joined him on the couch once he got the DVD in the player.

He pressed up against your side on the couch and pulled the classic yawn move and put his arm around you. It was a bit odd to cuddle with Anakin like this, but you know him well enough that the closeness wasn't uncomfortable. The closeness did, however, allow him to feel every twitch of your body.

You jump when Jason pops out of no where, jostling Anakin.

"You okay?" he asks, chuckling.

You scoff. "I'm fine."

"Are you scared? Don't worry, your big brother will protect you," he jokes.

You elbow him in the ribs. "Don't call yourself that, freak."

Anakin just laughs and turns his attention back to the movie.

When it gets to the final chase scene, you're squirming with anxiety. You know it's just a movie, but the suspense gets you to. Anakin looks down at you with a smirk on his lips.

"Would you fuck him?" Anakin asks.

Your head snaps to the side, looking at him with furrowed brows. "Jason?"

"Yeah," Anakin says.

"You mean the crazy killer with the knife?"

Anakin adjusts his position so he can see you better. "Yeah. I mean like, you don't have to think he's hot. But if it was me, would you fuck me?"

What a weird fucking question. You can't tell if he's genuinely curious or if he's fishing for some kind of compliment.

"I guess," you shrug.

"If I had the mask and the knife?"

"Yes, Anakin," you sigh, getting annoyed that he's talking over the climax of the movie.

"Would you like it if I chased you?" he asks, his voice suddenly taking on a different tone. "Would you be my final girl?"

You raise your eyebrow at him. "Is this a sex thing?" you ask.

"Yeah," he smirks. "Think about it. You'd play the little, innocent helpless victim and I'd be the big bad killer. Maybe you got wrapped up in a relationship with a guy who's a bad influence nothin' but trouble," he says as he leans closer to you. "He brings you right to me and I have to have you. I get him out of the way first, and after that, you're all mine."

You lean back as Anakin advance, but when the back of your head hits the couch, you realize you have no where else left to go. Your heart begins to race in his chest as his eyes look over you hungrily. You can't deny that you're getting a little excited despite not knowing what Anakin is up to.

Suddenly, Anakin shifts. He leans up a bit and reaches behind him, searching for something in his back pocket. He reveals a small silver pocket knife that glints in the light from the screen.

He flips the blade of the knife up and you can see the sharp silhouette in the dark. It's only about three inches long, nothing like Jason's, but this one is real.

"I've got you now," he smirks.

The arm around your shoulder turns from comforting to restraining. He's holding you firmly in place by your shoulder with his other hand being occupied by the knife.

"You're crazy," you breathe.

"You want me to stop?" Anakin asks, dropping the knife for a moment.

You consider, but you're open to trying new things and this is obviously something that gets Anakin going.

"No," you say. "Just don't kill me."

Anakin grins, his white teeth glowing in the dark. He raises the knife again and lets the tip of the blade catch on the fabric of your shirt.

"I'm not gonna kill you, you're too special. I'm gonna keep you for myself."

Anakin is now leaning over top of you, blocking your view of the TV. His hand holds your shoulder firmly and his knee is resting on the cushion between your legs. You're trapped, but you don't want to get away.

Anakin tips your chin up with the flat of the knife, making you look at him. He tilts his head condescendingly and looks at you with pity.

"You're lucky I'm the one who got you. Some of the other guys aren't so generous. They like to see pretty things like you bleed dry, but I prefer to keep 'em wet," he says.

You're unclear of the story that goes along with this little fantasy, but you suppose that's not necessary to play the role of the helpless victim.

"Why are you doing this to me?" you ask, using a higher pitched voice to play up the desperation.

Anakin seems elated at your participation in his game. "Because I saw you squirmin' during the movie. This shit turns you on, huh?"

You whine when he shakes you. "No it doesn't," you say. "I was scared."

Anakin hums, not believing you. "Maybe you're more of the Ghostface type then. Would you fuck him?"

Suddenly you feel too shy to maintain eye contact with Anakin. You don't know how he read you like that, but he's right. You've always had a thing for Ghostface. Not the killing, but the voice and that flirty tone he used.

"Yeah, you fucking would," Anakin grins. "So that's your type, huh? I can do that for you, baby."

Anakin has never called you baby before and it does something to you. The tenderness of the pet name combined with the sharp metal waving in your face makes for a confusing mixture of desire in your abdomen.

Before your mind can catch up with your body to realize what's happening, Anakin has you on your back on the floor. He's kneeling over you, straddling your torso. In this position, the side of his face is lit by the TV and he looks hotter than ever. The manic grin on his lips, the lust in his eyes, the line of his throat.

"Aren't you gonna try to run?" he asks. When you shake your head no, he laughs. "Some final girl you are. Just handing yourself over to the bad guy to do whatever he pleases with you."

Anakin tosses the knife on the couch, then grabs the waistband of your sweatpants and panties and pulls them down together. You lift your hips to help him get them off and once you're bare, he slots himself between your legs and hooks them over his shoulders.

"And bad guys like me love ruining pretty things like you," he smirks wickedly.