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otkuhotgirl · 9 months ago

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─── 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 .

# with akagami no shanks.

the captain was drunk — and a bit self-conscious. not to fret, for you were his favorite entertainer.

KINKTOBER, day ten. smut (mdni!). strip-tease. lap dance. masturbation (reader!receiving). thigh riding. dry humping. usage of conqueror’s haki. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 1.9k.

akagami no shanks had lost his arm.

upon his return to the wild seas of the new world, those had been the most frowned upon words. the fearsome captain, the unmovable force, somehow would miss a limb forevermore. the reactions were but a divergent cacophony. fear — for what human could achieve such a feat? was it even a human? if not so, how close was the beast? if it had been enough to face him, what chance did the commoners have? anger — for mihawk no longer had a worthy rival. it would be far from honorable to face in combat a swordsman whose dominant arm was gone. and, at last, curiosity — for why was the truth hidden? one did not brag about a loss, but aside from overused jokes, shanks refused to spare a single word. who was he protecting? it was hilarious to witness the fuss as part of the select number of people aware of what had, in truth, happened.

akagami no shanks had lost his arm. and you had been the one to hear his puns ever since.

of course, he faced decent struggles. waking at night phantom pain; forced to master the art of the sword yet again with a hand he had no experience with whatsoever. yet, above the frustration soared an undeniable truth — for luffy, it had been worth it. besides, a decade past and shanks had grew accustomed to the mandatory shifts, living as though had not lost a thing.

however, as it seemed, there was yet one he would never cease to whine about.

the man was drunk — a common occurrence — and awfully clingy — another common occurrence. you had dragged him from the bar, pitying the poor beckman, for the man deserved a break from the captain’s shenanigans, and shanks had been hugging your waist ever since. he sat on the bed, drooling on your flesh, not allowing you to at least go fetch some water. his grip was a prison of itself on usual hours, but it did not help that you, too, were a bit intoxicated, swaying to the sides and failing to pull his face off your body.

“dooooooooooooll,” he drawled out, hiccuping. “i miss your ass.”

shanks gripped a considerable amount of flesh, daring to whine. “get over it, you’re a grown man.”

“how mean, i am half a grown man,” he laughed at said joke, biting the bare inch of your waist.

“half a man deserves half an ass,” you stated matter-of-factly, fighting off the urge to let out a hiccup yourself.

“but i miss groping both sides at the same time,” shanks insisted, dragging his nose on your belly, daring to grow drunker on your scent.

“you never had this complaint with my tits,” you pointed out, to which he liked his lips, seemingly aroused all of the sudden.

the hand pinching at your waist trailed itself up to rest on one of your breasts, his once slouched figure straightening up so that he could drag a sloppy stripe across your covered nipple. he had no problem with it whatsoever, for he was a man of considerable height.

“i can tease both of my girls at the same time,” he stated, wetting the fabric of your shirt, grinning at the elicit expression. “i can’t slap both your asscheeks at the same time anymore.”

your nipple hardened due to his ministrations, all but his for the taking, for you hadn’t felt the need to wear a bra that night. shanks closed his lips around the bud, humming as he sucked on it, spit soaking clothing and skin alike.

“and you like it,” the man teased, voice a bit muffled; rough.

you arched your back with a sigh, gripping locks of red hair, falling prey to his sensual tongue. yet, though your glance was tethered to his face, shanks’ own eyes seemed ever-so-lost, melancholic, even. you caught on the instance he moved his other shoulder, as though aiming to grip your hip with a nonexistent arm — a maintained instinct despite the absence of the limb. shanks laid down, retreating from your figure altogether, explicit vulnerability that would not have been shown otherwise, was he not drunk.

“see, doll? half a man,” he scoffed, to which your eyes narrowed; face scrunching in concentration as you then pondered on how to comfort him.

your fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants, whistling with faux innocence. shanks observed your approach with hooded eyes, laughing with delight once your chest was pressed against his own.

“my poor, poor husband,” you teased, pleased to witness the sudden shift in his attitude.

shanks and you hadn’t officiated the marriage; no celebration to be seen whatsoever. it had been the initial plan, two years prior. however, with newgate’s death and the aftermath of the war, waiting on a better period was the agreement. that did not mean the titles weren’t used, and shanks, in particular, never failed to be aroused whenever the word husband fell past your lips. a decade worth of lovemaking, too, made you more than attuned to what had him squirming.

“how i hate to see you so sorrowful,” you hummed, kissing the scars etched on the flesh of his eye. “i will fix that.”

“yeah, doll?” he grunted, growing excited when you dodged his advances. “how so?”

shanks sat on the edge of your shared bed, widening smirk and lustful eyes following your every move. you spun around the room, strutting your hips and nearing the corner, positioned far from his reach.

“you’re not allowed to touch,” you ordered, far more daring due to the alcohol. “just watch.”

shanks had his legs spread, a growing erection visible through the thin fabric of his pants. you opened the small, circular window, allowing the music from the outside bar to travel inside. your hips moved accordingly to the beat, an established sensual pace that had your fingers hovering over your breasts as you spun and approached him with languid steps.

you danced around the border of his reach, teasing the thin grip he had on his self-restraint. when he dared move, you dodged with a fit of giggles. “how should we start, sea emperor?”

he groaned at the title. “let me see your tits, doll.”

you hummed, rolling your hips with a languid sensualness born from the usual influence of alcohol. your fingers teased the straps of your shirt, trailing down the fabric until you reached the button of your shirts. rather than listening to his request, you sluggishly tugged down the zipper, perching your ass up as you slowly turned around, movements following the rhythm from the music outside.

the loose piece of clothing threatened to fall, yet you held the hem, controlling the pace of its trajectory, rolling your hips; lowering yourself on your knees. when it was, at last, off, you kicked it away, snapping the strap of your underwear. shanks had a brief sight of your soaked cunt before he was forced to face your front yet again. he cleared his throat, eyes trailed to the lacy, borderline transparent, fabric that left near nothing to the imagination.

“tits?” you mocked, trailing your fingers down your clothed labia.

shanks was left conflicted, his inebriated mind struggling to wrap itself around what to answer. would you concede if he reacted positively? or would you tease him yet again, offering the much desired sight of your intimacy? how could he outsmart that? shanks was far too drunk for an elaborate plan.

“thighs,” he answered smugly, a grin that indicated he felt all much too quirky.

you parted your legs open, pinching and grabbing the bare flesh, mimicking his touch. your lover was drooling, observing the outline of your intimacy; stroking his clothed member. yet again, a temptive roll of your hips deprived him of what he yearned for. shanks gripped his cock, growing out of patience as your fingers gripped the hem of your shirt, raising it ever-so-slowly, a languid set pace. you stretched the fabric, biting on it in order to keep your nipples covered, using your fingers to tease said hardened buds, muffled moans and dancing matching the melody of the song.

when the saliva started dripping down your chin; staining your shirt; you removed it, spinning it on your finger until it fell at his feet.

“doll,” he warned, sweat surging on his temples, ceasing the ministrations of his hand on the hardened member. “c’mere.”

“nuh uh,” you sang, turning around on purpose. shanks had the entire sight of your cunt when you lowered down to remove your panties, dancing with it stuck between your teeth, growing hot at the explicit lust on his eyes.

“come to me,” he demanded, the applied pressure stealing your free-will.

your dance ceased altogether, for shanks had dared use his conqueror’s haki to guarantee compliance. your figure stumbled towards the awaiting man, his index beckoning you in a mocking manner.

“sit on my lap,” you conceded, no questions asked. shanks gripped your chin, a lonesome finger tugging at the lacy underwear dangling from your lips. “i want that.”

he opened his mouth, forcing yours to mimic the movement. your panties fell on his tongue, and he moaned at the taste of your essence, the loud slurping causing your walls to clench around air. you whimpered, neglected and unable to move, and shanks all but spat out the piece of clothing, rutting his hips as though a hound in heat.

“turn around,” he instructed, groaning when you brushed against him. your ass rested on his clothed cock, legs spread and back arched, prepared for whatever he had in store. “dance for me, doll.”

the music fell on deaf ears, overthrown by the choir of your moans once you started to move, the roll of your hips teasing your clit, growing swollen due to the texture of his pants. shanks panted, leaning forward. he sucked on your earlobe, twisting one of your nipples as he teased the clothed erection under your bare entrance. the dancing grew sloppy, for he had your back pressed against his chest; his lips latched to your neck. shanks made out with the flesh, spit trailing down your breast, the wetness used to tease your abused nipple.

shanks’ feet sunk down on the ground for further support, and he interrupted the languid roll of your figure on his lap by rutting his hips, forcing his clothed cock to rub itself on your folds. he licked a trail up your chin, biting on the bone, tilting your head with his nose. expert fingers left your breast to dance down your stomach, finding themselves a home amidst your folds. he drew fast-paced circles on your clit, and you closed your eyes, moaning at the sensation. your legs trembled, thighs burning, yet the pressure of his command lingered. you were but a puppet whose strings he pulled, dancing despite your own tiredness.

the growing knot at the pit of your stomach snapped, your orgasm arriving with treacherous swiftness, for the alcohol had done its part when enhancing your pleasure. shanks laughed, shoving his fingers past your parted lips without warning, forcing you to taste yourself; to lick him clean.

he wrapped his arm around your figure to throw you against the mattress. you had but a brief sight of him — removing his clothes, standing in naked glory — before he hovered above you, teasing your slick, sensitive entrance with his leaking tip.

“you were kind enough to dance,” shanks mocked, his lips mere inches away from your own; hot breath fanning over your face. “but the spectacle won’t be complete until i have you singing.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : i’m running out of things to write here omg, happy kinktober? 😭

#kinktober 2024 #one piece #op x reader #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #op x you #one piece smut #op x y/n #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #shanks #op shanks #shanks smut #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n

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knavcsblade · 6 months ago

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unprofessional.

+18!

cw: professor/dilf!arlecchino x student!reader. NOT highschool; both arlecchino and reader are adults. dom arle, sub r. overly descriptive. a lot of tension. age gap. power play (?). slight degradation. cunnilingus.

wc: 3.4k

summary: professor arlecchino tutoring student reader who had fallen behind in class… and lesbian sex.

a/n: i couldn’t stop thinking about dilf arle as a professor… i would apologize, but i know this is a millionaire idea. plus, i haven’t written in ages and my fingers are now moving all over the keys like it’s nothing. i’m free!

Lessons have always been annoying—as far as you can recall—so much so that you would usually find yourself pouring your focus into the most insignificant things you could think of.

You would bring novels into class to read as the professor explained a new subject; you’d look out the window and process all the things you had to do on that very specific Tuesday afternoon; you would even take naps in between the prolonged sentences of that one teacher you simply couldn’t stand, for a reason that managed to escape you every time.

That was until the day the man was rumored to have been fired and replaced by another professional with more experience on the field—someone who most likely wouldn’t bore all the students to death.

Great, you thought, another male educator with an inflated ego who would roll his eyes at every inquiry from his pupils before proceeding to answer sarcastically just to make them feel witless. You were oh so excited for that.

The moment you looked up from your walnut desk, you already knew something was off. Everyone went silent as soon as the door opened—a common occurrence, though it felt different this time, especially since the clicking of heels echoed through the large room.

“Good morning, class,” those were the first three words that came from the new professor. The gravelly depth of her voice carried an air of authority that quickly forced everyone to put all their attention on the manner in which she approached her desk.

You were all in almost a chokehold in an instant, that was as clear as day. However, you seemed to be the most interested one out of the bunch by the way your eyes lingered on her form—on the way there was a lack of sway in her hips that you were unused to.

Most of the female scholars were nothing like her, and not just physically, you could already tell. She carried herself in a way that had you almost hypnotized, and you already knew you would be paying attention this time around.

There was a soft thud that bounced off the walls when she set her messenger briefcase on the dark wood of her new desk, eyes glimmering like coals in the darkness never leaving the class sitting before her. “Before we begin, introductions are indispensable,” her gaze flickered towards you for a few seconds before she spoke again.

That was… odd. You definitely looked like a deer in headlights to her now.

“I’m Arlecchino, and I’m afraid I will be your new professor from this moment onward… and no, I shall not disclose the details of your previous professor’s departure, before you ask.”

The auditorium had fallen silent the second she walked in, but due to the velvety, spellbinding tone of her voice, it seemed to grow even quieter. Of course, she had every student’s undivided attention at this point, but you found yourself staring at her for longer than would be considered appropriate.

The way she wore her suit captured your notice almost instantly. This was a common attire worn by every professor at the institute you attended, though hers was utterly captivating. The way the fabric clung onto her body, adding the way she carried herself… it was difficult for you to focus on her words at all, no matter how hard you tried.

And oh, her voice had you in a trance. The way the low vibrations of it echoed through the room sent shivers down your spine in a way you had never felt before. This person couldn’t be real…

You were so distracted by her you didn’t even realize the lesson was already over until you noticed the people around you beginning to stand up—Arlecchino taking a seat at her desk just to go through some papers she had taken out of her briefcase.

Much to your dismay, you were snapped out of your thoughts by this and, of course, her speaking. “Make sure to continue… hitting the books, as they say. In spite of your former professor’s leave-taking, the exam dates remain the same.”

The moment you got up and most of your peers had exited the room, you simply had to look at her for the last time. Truly, where did this woman come from? She was otherworldly, in your very honest opinion, and you were one hundred percent upset about having to make your way outside at that moment.

But oh, did you enjoy the lectures now.

You enjoyed her… them so much, the quality of your exam was abysmal. For her, even having to read the few words you wrote down felt like a punch in the gut, and she almost winced while going over it. However, who could blame you? Your last professor was truly someone who spoke and lulled you to sleep, and she was too distracting for you to even begin to comprehend the words that flowed out of her mouth.

The moment you picked up your test from her desk, you didn’t even look at it. You caught a glimpse of red inked scribbles all over the paper, clearly Arlecchino’s corrections, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even read what she had to say. You already knew you had messed up—what was the point?

You always told yourself you would simply ‘study more next time’; however, this was futile. All the subjects were related, so you practically were doomed to fail. You hadn’t the time to go over so many different things in just a few months.

The lesson began once you sat down, and one more time, your chin rested idly on the palm of your hand as you watched her. This was the sole reason you had underperformed on the exam, or so she thought.

She could almost vividly see the way her speech went in one of your ears and out the other, and in spite of her calm demeanor, it was slowly beginning to vex her. Were you truly this careless?

Of course, she kept an eye on you while she explained the intricacies of the new subject at hand, slowly pacing before the entirety of the class as she did her best to direct your attention to her words—not the way her steps allowed you to notice just how toned her frame was beneath the fabric of her suit.

The second everyone got up to leave the auditorium after long hours, you heard a soft “you”—one that oozed authority despite its calm tone. You already knew whose lips that simple word came out of. Naturally, you looked disoriented as you approached Arlecchino with your bag now hanging from your shoulder and heart beating so loud in your chest it might as well have been about to burst.

“Yes?”

Her gaze eventually turned to you, blackened hands gaining purchase on her own hips as she looked down at you. Finally, you could see her nails up close, one of the things you continued to ogle while sitting a few feet away from her, and you were more than fascinated by them now.

She cleared her throat to catch your focus once again after noticing it deviating from her face, and you would have been startled if only you hadn’t found her so attractive. “I have been informed that you are… one of the students who didn’t exactly pay attention to these classes previously. I wished to let you know you may come to me after lessons so I can clear any doubts you might have.”

Her eyes bored into yours as she spoke, and if you couldn’t hear your own heartbeat in your very ears, you would have assumed it had stopped completely. Educators were allowed to be mesmerizing, sure, but you had never found yourself being so… distracted by one.

“I’m positive you have quite a few of them, since I was told you spent most of your time dozing off or staring out the window at the previous professor’s lectures. Not to mention the way you seemed more than distracted in our last ones, unlike the other students…, and your failed exam.”

You immediately felt called out by her—who wouldn’t? Wasn’t this deeply embarrassing? This woman assumed you were, well, an uninterested fool, judging by her almost condescending tone. She already knew you had always been busy hearing her voice, but never truly listening to her. You felt your cheeks begin to burn from the shame.

“Yes, I…,” you cut yourself off to clear your throat, fist covering your mouth as you thought for a few seconds. Would you confirm her obvious assumptions about you, or reject her offer? Well, the answer was obvious. “I suppose it would do me good.”

“It would do your grades good,” her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she spoke, piercing eyes solely focused on yours at all times. They were inhumanly beautiful yet hauntingly distant; despite this obvious nature, you couldn’t look away. “I don’t particularly enjoy the idea of my students falling behind.”

That said, a vocal sigh left her parted lips and filled the room in an instant.

“We will meet at the library, yes? Perhaps I can… enlighten you for once.”

And so she did. She would spend hours on end trying to get certain things through your pretty little head, often having to literally snap you out of your thoughts. You spent long periods watching the way she held her garnet fountain pen instead of listening to her, and this was becoming tiresome.

You could practically hear her jaw clenching as you quietly giggled and lied through your teeth. “Don’t worry, I understand” and “yes, that makes sense” were things you would say time and again, even if Arlecchino hadn’t been speaking for minutes.

In a way, she found you… amusing, albeit irritating. The situation wasn’t one she was used to, even after years of being an important scholar of Teyvat.

You thought you weren’t being so blatant, though she caught on the reason for your absentmindedness pretty quickly. She would notice even the smallest of details about your actions, like the way your gaze would drop to her lips as she spoke, or how you continued to bite the inside of your cheek—it was almost as if you were somewhere in between reality and some different plane of existence.

She didn’t blame you, however. You were very clearly infatuated with her, and oh, did she find it sweet.

The only issue with these private lessons was that neither of you had considered the fact that the library closed once a month for the staff to conduct a book recount. The first Friday this took place, Arlecchino found herself having to simply invite you to her home so you could both resume your routine.

This wasn’t exactly inappropriate, at least not to her. It was fairly common for her colleagues to take the students who needed the most support to their places so they could perform their duties as tutors to them—you were utterly flustered, however.

You had ‘sneakily’ gotten information out of her about her personal life, like how she had adopted three children a few years back, or how she had a beautiful garden with rainbow roses she enjoyed taking care of before making her way to the institute. None of that could ever compare to setting foot into her house, fully missing those children she had mentioned before.

You now sat at the desk in her study, cross-legged with your tightly clasped hands resting on your lap and Arlecchino sitting before you. You desperately wished to look around—to take in the way she had decorated the room and maybe catch onto small details of hers she wouldn’t confess. However, you kept your gaze on her the entire time. Furniture could wait, could it not?

“I apologize for the… chaos,” her voice rumbled as she focused on putting away the scattered papers all over the large desk into a folder.

All you did was wave your hand dismissively in response, and if you weren’t looking so intently, you would have missed the way the corners of her lips lifted with utmost subtlety.

Your books were covering the mahogany wood in minutes, Arlecchino slightly leaned in as the crimson crosses in her eyes focused on the words plastered on the pages. She could definitely feel you studying her form more than you would ever study the sentences sitting right in front of you. She had had enough now.

Her voice pulled you out of your head in an instant, doe-eyed as you hummed. It took you a few seconds to register her question, the usual “did you understand?”

“Oh, uh… yes, absolutely.”

“Do it, then,” she said, leaning back with crossed arms and brows furrowed slightly enough to make you press your lips together instinctively.

It was clear you were puzzled at her words. You hadn’t heard what she had uttered before, and she just knew it.

“I’m… sorry, what?”

To this, all she did was exhale deeply through her nose and begin to organize all the books and papers you had placed on her desk. Her patient demeanor was beginning to falter, and all due to you.

“Get on the desk. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” Her answer was simple, and the way she said it left no room for hesitation whatsoever.

She put all your belongings aside to rest her palms on the edge of the furniture, getting up with a swift movement that made her chair roll back and give her enough room to wait for you to do what she had commanded. It was clear there was a plan in her mind, one about what she would do to you the second you obeyed, and it was nerve-racking.

Oh, well. Who were you to not do as she said? Especially when her gaze lingered on yours expectantly.

You slowly made your way towards her, hands trembling as you used them to prop yourself up and now find yourself sitting atop her desk in pure silence. Your legs were pressed together, naturally, since you had decided to wear a skirt due to the hot weather that had taken place merely a couple of weeks earlier. You didn’t wish to expose yourself before her, or did you?

“You know, dear,” she started as she drew closer, the nickname as well as the manner in which her hand found its way towards your thigh making your heart race in what could only be anticipation, “you aren’t good at listening, or understanding what I regularly explain to you… or keeping your focus on something other than me.”

At that moment, everything around you seemed to vanish. She was now so close you could feel the heat of her body against yours and her breath tickling your face. Somehow, before you could even react at all, she stood between your spread legs as her blackened hand snaked its way under the fabric of your skirt.

Could your poor heart even take all of this?

“I’m sure you aren’t even paying attention to what I’m saying right now, are you?”

“Sorry, you… you’re too close. I can’t…,” you didn’t even finish your sentence, but not due to her. It was all because your mind could only concentrate on the way her nails uniformly dug into the plush skin of your thigh.

“You can’t… what? Think? Of course you can’t,” she muttered in response, knowing she needn’t speak louder considering the closeness between you two.

It didn’t take her long to shatter this small distance, however. She leaned in impossibly closer, giving you all the time in the world to pull away if you wished to do so—if she had been stupid enough to misunderstand the whole situation. Yet, as the seconds passed, you didn’t. Obviously.

Her other hand managed to gain purchase on your waist to pull you in and meet her lips halfway, wrapping you in a kiss as unhurried and torturous as it was passionate and hungry. And oh, the way you finally let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding through your nose the instant you tasted her only made her fully press herself against you.

You let her in eventually, a whimper betraying you as she fervently explored your mouth and her fingers wrapped around the hem of your underwear to slide it down your legs. She couldn’t find herself caring about anything other than giving you what you had wanted in such a desperate manner since you first saw her, even more so ever since you had managed to grow on her so easily.

She thought you were simply… almost adorable. The way you drooled every time your eyes landed on her was something she found more than entertaining, and she wished to see how many reactions she could pull out of you with uncomplicated deeds.

Arlecchino only pulled away to kneel before you, and you couldn’t help but notice the fine thread of saliva that connected your lips before it snapped once her face waited right in front of your unclothed, drenched cunt. She watched you in silence, crimson eyes now turning darker at the sight of your desperate expression.

You just wanted her to ravish you, didn’t you?

All she had to do was lift your legs up to rest on her shoulders just so her tongue could finally roll between your folds and soak in your fluids fully. This took longer than you were hoping for, but once it did, your head lolled back at the feeling.

This was followed by you dragging a moan out of the depths of your throat, an action that made her hold tightly onto your thighs since she could already tell you would be the type to squirm and make a mess only from getting eaten out.

The pretty noises coming from you the moment she found that sweet bundle of nerves only made her react by digging her nails into the warm skin of your thighs and shoving her face even further into you. Her nose was pressed against your mound, and the sensation of the small hairs pricking on it made the feeling even more enjoyable for her.

She seemed to eat your pussy out like a woman starved—one not afraid to pour the entirety of her silent desire onto you and watch you relish it in its entirety. She could even feel the mixture of your wetness and her saliva beginning to drip down her chin and pour onto her pants to stain them in the future, all the while she lapped against your sensitive clit.

Long minutes full of moans, whimpers, and your hand tangling in her hair passed when you felt that well-known heat forming in your lower stomach. You couldn’t ignore it, and neither could she. Arlecchino could simply tell how close you were to an orgasm just from the way your legs squeezed her head every once in a while.

“Fuck… fuck, Arlecchino, please,” a strained plea that was interrupted by a mewl left your mouth which hung open for her to hear you.

Between lewd slurps and wet noises, her eyes found yours for what probably was less than a second. This managed to get you to clench around nothing as a loud moan filled the air.

“How vulgar,” came the only muffled response from her, though she lacked the sharpness of her usual tone. She was absolutely pussy-drunk at this point, only focused on bringing you to ecstasy with her tongue and claws carving crescent moons into your thighs.

It didn’t take you long to find your release, twitching and holding onto absolutely anything on that desk to keep yourself from fully resting on it. Even at the peak of your orgasm she didn’t let go of you; she was entranced by making sure she licked you clean of all your juices no matter what. It became overwhelming at one point—the way she made sure to swallow your climax solely made you wish this would have happened sooner.

Once she was done enjoying your taste, she slowly got up to wipe the remains of your loud crescendo with the back of her hand, red crosses finding your pupils though she knew you were more than out of your five senses.

“I do hope that, after this, you will pay more attention to our future lessons, dear,” her voice was somewhat deeper, and it forced you to nod through your exhaustion.

You would definitely focus on her words from now on.

#–𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞'𝖘 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.#genshin x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin impact #arlecchino smut #geshin women x reader #genshin women smut #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #genshin x gn reader #x reader #genshin wlw

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crescenthistory · 5 months ago

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slight air and purging fire

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

Summary: He's your person and, apparently, you're his flame. Your more-than-a-best-friend spends the evening with you when Regulus needs a break, and you're both happy for the excuse.

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: gn!reader, no use of y/n, pyromaniac!barty, best friends to lovers, undiscussed relationship, just sweet fluff, physical affection, barty is always a bit suggestive, vague references to barty's mental state/trauma, cuddling, banter, implied autistic!regulus, background bsf!moonwater

Note: i haven't written a full barty fic since december, this was so cathartic<33 i still have some small drabbles from my celebration to release but wanted to share this with you before. and yes the title is from shakespeare even though i reference woolf in this, sue me. much love xx

It wasn’t an as common occurrence anymore, as Regulus had become more grounded the closer he got to Remus, but it was an ingrained habit regardless – every now and again, the dark haired boy would come to pull at your sleeve and give you a look.

A desperate exhausted look that clearly read “come get your beast under control”.

Over the years of sharing a dorm with Barty, Regulus had grown not only passionately loyal and affectionate towards him, but also rather sensorially detached. Meaning that most days, he was able to just tune his best friend’s antics out when they were too overstimulating or in his face. When Barty either talked a mile a minute for too many minutes, couldn’t sit still or couldn’t help from physically engaging with Regulus in some capacity, causing him to switch his brain off to deal with all the inputs. However, even the best soldier occasionally needs backup, and lucky for all the boys in their dormitory, said backup waltzed into their lives in year three and had been the only one fully able to quiet and anchor the hotheaded boy.

Your friendship with Barty came as naturally as a sunrise when you were paired together for a Potions project – you were his first desk partner that could thread the balance of stopping him from blowing up your cauldron and still having fun.

He adored you for it.

You found he wasn’t half bad either.

The nature of your relationship and dynamic changed over the years as you grew up side by side, but the overall sentiment remained the same; you were each other’s person. Barty managed to catch every aspect of you both metaphorically and physically, and with you, Barty could move at a regular pace without losing himself.

You became Regulus’ secret weapon rather quickly when you were integrated fully into their friend group.

“How do you do it? Why is he… like that with you?” Regulus asked you once in fourth year when Barty had fallen asleep with his head in your lap after three days of refusing to sleep.

His legs were hanging over each side of the sofa, one shoe mysteriously missing, but he seemed perfectly at peace in your lap. You carded your fingers gently through his hair, separating the green and brown strands with a small smile on your face. “Like what?”

“It’s like he goes quiet.”

You snorted. “Barty is never quiet, even when I’m around.”

Regulus gave you a so-so shrug. “Not literally – but he kind of is, though. He will always be Barty, but it’s like he’s more… at peace. With you.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but you couldn’t meet Regulus’ gaze since he started this line of questioning. “I don’t know. If he is, I’m grateful for it, though. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

It was probably never fully platonic between you and Barty, you recognise now. Laying on your stomach in your dorm while reading a book only half-focussed with your mind straying away to silver piercings, canine-grins and that laugh.

He was the best friend you could have, but more so in the same way a dog is or, you’d hope, a husband would be. You shook the thought from your head.

It was a slow development – while you became inseparable friends within a week, the journey away towards a spoken, outlined romantic relationship was a long one. Not in the same way a queue is long, though, more so a cross-country roadtrip with, well, your best friend.

Barty hugged you properly for the first time a year into your friendship. He cried in front of you for the first time in fourth year, and held your hand in fifth year. Last year, he kissed you for the first time.

It had been quiet in that complex way Regulus had tried to put into words, where it was very clearly Barty so it was far from calm, but there was a certain peace hanging over the moment anyway. He had been having nightmares the last few weeks of term, so the two of you had taken to co-sleeping in the Room of Requirement, with your dearest prefect Regulus covering for you. Originally, Barty had conjured up two beds, but you swiftly pushed them together and charmed the gap away, giving him some snarky comment about “be sensible, Junior” that he laughed loudly at.

There was no suggestive intent behind it, not really, just an insatiable desire for closeness. The same desire that had Barty at your side like a magnet from all the way back in third year, the same desire that flared in you each time his father or his pain came near, as if you could protect him with an embrace.

He would have told you that you could.

It wasn’t clear to you anymore how it began, how one thing led to another. All you knew was that several days into your arrangement, you were still acting like small kids at a sleepover, staying up late because you couldn’t help but giggle. You had been in a half-cuddle but far enough apart to laugh with your entire bodies – one moment you made eye contact with your faces close to each other, your giggles spilling out across his face, the next he was trying to swallow your sounds with his smiling lips.

There had been a lot of kisses since then, and not too many words about it.

You would have thought it would tear you apart to live like this, having crossed the boundary over from best friends to something more without outlining it – but as with everything else, this was Barty. There had been no real boundary to cross, it was just waves in water, hand in hand. You knew inexplicably that you were safe in his hands, heart included.

The oddest aspect of it was discovering that you had discovered a new level of comfort when you thought those had already been exhausted. Lips on lips, lips on skin, air on skin, clothes wherever, hands everywhere.

With your finger caressing the page, a smile was still faint on your lips, and so was his touch.

You were brought out of your idyllic mental landscapes by a physical tug on your sleeve.

Your eyes darted down to the fabric on your left arm, seeing the jumper ruffle as if someone pinched it and be dragged out, as if you were being pulled out of your bed. The sound that escaped you were equal parts laugh and sigh, endlessly endeared by Regulus’ determination to avoid social or overstimulating situations – going to the extent of crafting spells specifically to save him.

You slapped absentmindedly on your arm, hoping it would notify him with the energy of “okay, okay, I’m on my way”, as you rolled out of bed and made for the stairs.

The development of your relationship with Barty hadn’t come up with your friends yet. Or, you hadn’t let it, always steering the conversation away when Dorcas gave you knowing looks or Regulus whispered with you. This once, you indulged yourself to be selfish and keep him to yourself for just a bit longer.

Which is part of the reason why you leaned over the railing overlooking the common room, whistling as you spotted your group of friends around their favourite fireplace.

Regulus sat in Remus’ lap on the edge of a settee, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, looking picturesque in a way that made your heart ache with happiness for him. Evan was draped across the other side of the settee, feeding grapes to Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor with Emmeline’s head in her lap. Dorcas was absent, likely out training with Marlene, which was a totally normal thing to do with your quidditch rival, shut up you guys.

Your dearest Barty was currently laying balanced on the back of the same settee his friends were in, casting sparkling spells above him, likely to entertain himself in the calm atmosphere.

You understood why Regulus called on you.

At the sound of your whistle, your friends’ heads whipped around to look at you, recognising the specific tune you only used for them – them being mostly Barty. You got a few greeting cheers from Barty, Evan and Emmeline, but it was the former’s grin that made your own spread.

“B!” you yelled. “Come read with me.”

You could have gone down to sit with them, but the comfort of your dorm was too overpowering tonight. Plus Regulus really really hated when Barty played with physical fire, so you figured you were doing him a double favour, too.

Anyone else making the same request – or rather, demand – to Barty would have received a scoff or a pout, but for you, Barty simply rolled off of the back of the sofa and used the momentum of his fall to run towards the stairs. He ruffled Evan’s hair on the way who flipped him off without looking up.

“Later, losers, love ya,” Barty called as he made it to the bottom of the stairs.

He took them two at a time and before you knew it he was in front of you, placing his hand right beside yours on the railing as he looked at you with a lop-sided grin. “Thought you’d resigned for the evening.”

You bumped your fingertips into his. “Sort of. Got bored, though.”

His grin widened as he pushed off the railing to walk backwards towards your vacant dorm. “Can’t have that, can we, darling?”

You shook your head with a smile and followed after him, leaving just enough time to look over your shoulder and lock eyes with Regulus, pointing two fingers from your own eyes to his before intertwining them in a symbol of friendship. Regulus rolled his eyes at you with a smile, but Remus – his clearly better half – blew you a kiss.

When you moved your attention back on the short walk to your dorm, you caught just the end of Barty jogging ahead so he could open your door for you with a theatrical flourish. You paid it little mind, kissing his cheek in thanks as you moved in past him, not waiting to see his reaction, if there was one.

“Where’s your roomies tonight?” Barty’s tone was half-mocking, referring to the endless saga of your two constantly absent dormmates. They were lovely people but so scattered, always either with their various partners or at events or simply just missing somehow.

Though you could hardly criticise as you do guess this is a saga of three, considering how you occasionally would stay over at Barty’s or even the Room of Requirement. You three were a perfect match.

“Don’t know honestly,” you replied as you made to lay back down on your bed, keeping slightly to the left side. “Something about a breakup for one of them, so either partaking in a good cry session with a friend or making up once again.”

Just a year or two ago, Barty would have transfigured your small dorm bed to extend so he could sprawl out across it to his heart’s content, but to your heart’s content, he didn’t this time – he just laid down on top of your duvet with you, turned over on his side and propping his head up on his hand. “Or maybe making out with someone else, if they know what’s right for them.” Barty knew all about your dormmate’s turbulent relationships from the nights he stayed over while they were there, ranting to the both of you.

“Oh you know all about what’s right for them, do you?” Your voice was teasing as you got more comfortable on the bed, laying your book on your bedside table.

Barty scoffed, as if to say duh. “Weren’t you going to read to me, sweetheart?” He nodded his head towards the book your fingertips were still lingering on.

The smile that spread across your face was outside your control, but you still maintained an air of sarcasm. “I believe I asked you to come read with me, I didn’t say I would read to you,” you clarified with a raised brow. “And I didn’t think you actually would.”

Barty leaned across from you and nipped the book off the table to hand over to you, the small paperback and his hand barely fitting between you two given the cramped space. “I want to hear you read.”

He said it matter-of-factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and you supposed it was. You would occasionally read to Barty when he needed help falling asleep, memories that though born from a bad situation rested fondly in your heart.

You took the book from him, opening it to the right page with one hand before looking up at him with appled cheeks. As soon as his hand was off the book, it settled on your hip instead, fingertips sliding beneath your jumper to rest against your skin there.

“Please,” he added when you didn’t reply right away.

“Whatever my boy wants, right?” Your tone wound up being more affectionate than teasing. “Do you want it read softly or theatrically?”

When he tilted his head sideways to read the book’s spine, some of his hair fell into his eyes, which you promptly pushed back. “Is it possible to read Virginia Woolf theatrically?” he asked with a humoured tone.

“Oh, you have no idea. Obviously I have to do it theatrically now.”

Barty squeezed your hip as he all-but giggled. “Alright, show me the ropes then.”

He folded his arm to lay his head down to rest as his gaze fixated on your face as you read to him. Perhaps you would have felt self-conscious in any other situation, but with Barty’s legs tangling with yours, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose and his hums of approval, you were everything but.

As you read, Barty pushed your jumper further up so that your side was exposed, enabling him to trace various patterns there while you read. Whether there was any sense to the chaos you wouldn’t know, eyes focussed on the page to give him the most proper experience of how theatrical Virginia Woolf truly could be.

With Barty, time trickled by in an odd way. You felt as if you were spending centuries together without any of it wearing you down – in the sense that time passed quick but the minutes always carried more meaning when together. You got through two chapters, interrupted by long bouts of laughter when Woolf’s comedy struck through or when your attempt at one of the character’s accents thoroughly failed, before you began to tire out.

His hand never left your side as you read, and when you laughed, Barty seemed to tackle you in a hug so he could feel every vibration of your laughter run through his own body.

As you finished up the second chapter, a shiver ran down your spine for reasons you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Barty propped himself back up on his elbow to grab his wand from the nightstand and bring the duvet you were laying on to spread out over you without disturbing your position.

“Want to give that beautiful voice a break, darling?” Even as Barty asked, he was already gently – almost disproportionately so – taking the book from your hands and putting your water bottle into them instead.

You nodded as you put the bottle to your lips, swallowing greedy mouthfuls of water, though not regretting the activity in the slightest. Barty’s eyes followed the movement of your throat, eventually letting them trail up to meet your own as he took your bottle and placed it beside the bed with ease.

When you laid back down against your small mountain of pillows, Barty scooted closer to you and pushed your jumper back up where it had fallen down. He stared at his own fingers’ movements as he dragged just the tips over the curve of your hip, swirling around near your ribs before making the journey back down. He looked hypnotised by the movement, but your own eyes never left his face.

You heaved a large sigh, the one that drags itself from your lungs when you’re completely relaxed after a long day.

Without looking up, Barty asked, “Okay?” You were unsure if he was asking if you were okay, if his touching you were okay or something else entirely.

Either way, the answer was: “Yes, love.”

At the term of endearment, Barty looked up at you at last, his teeth flashing as he smiled. He let his fingertips trail up the side of your body to your face as his eyes flitted across it, seeming increasingly content with what he found.

The silence was comfortable as you let him trace the lines of your face – your jaw up to your ear, cheekbones, browbones, forehead, nose, lips.

You almost wondered if you could have fallen asleep like this, safe and comfortable in this atmosphere he created that you almost dared call reverent, until he spoke again.

“My flame.”

He said it absentmindedly as he caressed your face, almost as if he didn’t even notice he said it. His hand couldn’t stay still, using its quest on your face as a form of stimming, sensory seeking in his affection.

“Your what?” you asked quietly, humour laced into your voice that automatically tugged on the corners of his lips.

“Flame,” he clarified, as if it was obvious.

When he didn’t elaborate, you poked him teasingly in the ribs – simultaneously taking the opportunity to slip your hand up beneath his shirt to splay across his bare back.

“Just thinking about something Evans told me in Muggle Studies.” His smile grew slowly as he recalled more and more of the memory.

“Since when do you pay attention in Muggle Studies?” When you laughed, your face moved too much for him to trace, and he moved his fingers back into your hair until it evened out again.

He huffed in faux offense for only a second before relenting with a smile and an eye roll. “Only when Evans tells me weird fun facts. She understands what I find entertaining. None of that rain-wear bullshit – I want to know about the crazies.”

“Understandable. Game recognises game.”

Barty pinched your cheek lightly and stuck his tongue out at you. “Is that why we’re friends?”

“You tell me.” Your smile had an undertone he didn’t seem to miss as his expression turned just a fraction more bashful. You pressed your hand more flat against his back in encouragement. “What did Lily tell you about?”

“Oh, nothing.” He looked past you for a second with an absent yet pleased gaze before returning it to your awaiting expression. “Just about how some muggles believe in something called twin flames. It’s basically the same soulmate crap as everything else, divine connections and whatnot. Just people finding another way to explain their love. But I liked the name.”

His eyebrows moved emphatically as he spoke in quintessential Barty fashion. It filled you with a sensation only eased by moving your free hand to wedge beneath his cheek, resting there as a makeshift pillow, thumb brushing across his cheek. “Did you now?”

He hummed in the affirmative. “I like flames.”

You snorted at that, which made his eyes light up and crinkle.

“No, I mean it–”

“I know you do.”

Barty rolled his eyes but his teeth were still on full display. “Do you want to hear my reasoning or not?”

You pressed your lips together to keep from continuing the banter and nodded. You wanted to see where this would go.

“I like flames. I like how they look, their warmth, how they make me feel. I’m always just itching to see one, to light something on fire or see sparks fly. But not when I’m with you.”

His expression had neutralised as he kept studying you with an observant gaze – it felt like every twitch or movement held grand meaning to him. You felt like poking fun, but your voice came out almost as reverent as his. “Is this you saying you’re not bored when you’re with me?”

“This is me saying I’m not insane when you’re with me.”

Your smile instantly softened, hand on his back increasing pressure as it slid further up to rest over his heart. “You’re never insane, B,” you whispered. “Not actually, regardless of if I’m there or not.”

His eyes crinkled as if he was smiling, but his lips were pressed together, as if in thought. It wasn’t often you saw him thinking over his words before opening his mouth.

“This is me saying I love you.” His brows twitched into a furrow as he tilted his head sideways into your palm. “I don’t need that… that distraction when I’m with you. My flame.”

Your lips parted momentarily, as an oh died on them. Your eyes moved across his face rapidly, drinking in the expression, committing every open window into his soul to memory. He seemingly let you, a soft smile resting on his lips, though it was more vulnerable than you thought you had seen it.

“Love ya” was common in your friend group after Pandora went on a mission to normalise it between you. Elaborate practical jokes about proposing to one another or being secret lovers were a longstanding tradition. Your special bond with Barty was a given to you.

This, though, this was new – yet it did not feel like uncharted territory as you moved to respond.

Your face gravitated closer and closer to his as your gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes. “Then you might forgive me for saying I love you too, then?”

Barty’s breath hitched, but the sound was quickly taken over by a soft laugh as he leaned his forehead forward the last few centimetres that separated it from yours. “I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t forgive you for, darling. Though it might mean you’re more insane than I am.”

You shook your head softly. “Again, you’re not insane, B. That is an oversimplification made solely for jokes – same as how Regulus isn’t actually boring, even when you joke he is.”

Barty furrowed his brows deeply. “Who told you those were jokes?”

Your hand beneath his shirt pinched him, drawing a yelp from him followed by a deep giggle that you happily mirrored.

“No, I know, I know,” he said through a laugh, locking gaze with you through his lashes. “But I do feel crazy without you. That’s how I know.”

You didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. You looked down between you for a moment as you could not contain your smile. A comfortable warmth began to spread through your body, as if something was carved in stone with each touch, each smile.

“I do suppose it’s safer you entertain yourself with me rather than light fire to innocent structures and civilians.”

Barty hummed appreciatively as he took on a theatrically wolfish expression. “And Salazar, do I know how to entertain myself with you.”

This time you pinched him harder as a scandalous bark of laughter escaped you – both of which seemingly triggered Barty to roll his body forward and over you, winding up on the very edge of the bed with you now held flush against him, laughing together like the kids in love you were.

You shrieked as he manhandled you into the chaotic embrace, laughing against his neck as you held onto him tighter. “You beast!”

“Your beast,” he corrected, pressing his forehead back against yours while his palm cupped your cheek fondly. “Right?”

You weren’t ashamed to admit you melted into him; your expression surely lovestruck. “Right.” You nodded, dazed. “Mine.”

His smile twitched repeatedly as he maintained eye contact. “My flame?”

“Yours.”

There was a certain glossiness to his gaze as he pressed his lips together and nodded faux matter-of-factly. “Sounds like a fair arrangement?”

You had never been more grateful to be fluent in Barty. It made that one sentence hold so much more sentimental worth in your heart.

“I reckon that’s fair, yeah.”

You didn’t wait for Barty to kiss you before you closed the distance between you with enough force to push him off his side onto his back – nearly off of the bed.

Just like the first time, you were laughing against each other’s lips, swallowing more and more of the sounds as you devoured the other, heart and soul.

Unlike the first time, when you intertwined your fingers beside his head and squeezed, there was no question in your heart left in your heart.

697 notes · View notes

fyuyushia · 3 months ago

Text

Capture target: You

Sung Jinwoo realizes messaging first is a surprisingly difficult thing to do. While searching for the most natural message to send, he gets sidetracked and gets beaten to the punch by you.

Masterlist for the series wawiwu

Sung Jinwoo hums, staring at your number aimlessly.

Saved on his phone, was your number kept as your name.

It's been well past 10 minutes since he's been staring at it. His fingers linger on the keyboard but no words were typed, unable to find the right words to say. This was the first message you'd exchange with him in a while, it had to be meaningful. Somewhat.

"Hey, did you get home safely?" He literally walked you home. Erase.

"How are you?" What is this, a get to know party? Erase.

"Are you free this Friday?" Too blunt. It needs to be more classy. Erase.

He rubs his chin with a hand, eyeing his phone critically. What would be the best opening statement? Something that isn't too casual but isn't too formal either. A message that hit just the right balance.

He racks his brain, tapping his head with a finger repeatedly in hopes of reaching eureka.

There's nothing. Absolutely nothing that seems fitting in his mind.

He doesn't notice as his shadow soldiers begin to pool around his shadow, taking a peek at their troubled monarch. It wasn't often, far from a common occurrence, and so they were worried. Who would've thought that their almighty monarch would be at a loss for words, acting so...humane like this?

"My liege," Beru breaks the silence that encompasses the room. "Perhaps it would be best to simply be honest."

Jinwoo stiffens at the ant's sudden intervention. His posture straightens, and he's immediately glaring daggers at the presumptuous shadow of his. (Not really, he was just surprised and didn't expect to be caught overthinking a simple message)

"It's not as simple as it sounds." He says after releasing his glare.

He leans back on his seat, a sigh leaving him in a fit of exasperation. Beru shrinks, settling with watching his liege struggle in the background instead. Despite his inclination to help, Jinwoo didn't seem to appreciate it, he could get that much.

Wait. Why is he thinking so hard about it? It's just a message.

Jinwoo sits up straight again, elbows resting on his desk and this chin on the back of his hand. It's just a message. It's not like he particularly liked you or was fond of you anymore. Why was he so pressed on what message to send?

He clicks his tongue. Old habits die hard. He surmises. He was always cautious of what to text you, ensuring every word was made to your liking. Now that he was past his highschool years of stupidly crushing on a friend, there was no need for him to be so cautious. No need to worry too much.

But then again this reunion wasn't just any other reunion. If he came off too strong or too weak then your affection points might go down. Can it even go down? He doesn't know, and he's not willing to know either.

It would be a waste of effort.

Indeed it would. It's a matter of convenience. Not anything else. (He ignores the part of him that panics at the thought of you being weirded out.)

He clears his throat. This isn't working.

Clearly he's not the best at making the first move.

What a dilemma.

He slumps in his seat, head up and eyes staring at the ceiling as if it had all the answers to all the problems he had difficulty solving.

He exhales through his nose. This is stupid. There's no reason to be this finicky. It's just a text message.

Indeed. It's just a text message to be sent to you. A capture target. A person he knew from the past. Nothing to be nervous about. Yes, you're just a person from his past who somehow came back to his present.

He sighs. Heavy. Tired. Exasperated. Baffled.

This is all so foolish. He can clear dungeons with ease but somehow a text is making him lose his marbles? That's impossible.

His thoughts spiral. You were his friend once. A good one. The kind who made rainy days feel like sunlight, who filled silence with laughter and warm glances across cafeteria tables. Back before he knew what power felt like. Back when his only real concern was if you’d notice the way he always saved you the last bite of his lunch.

Sung Jinwoo's not the type to worry this much about what other people would think. He might have once, especially when it came to his crush, but that was once. This was now. And Jinwoo right now was no longer a pushover with no power to fight back. He also didn't have a crush on you now either.

It's just the system. Definitely. It's just the system forcing him to think things through. If he was too careless about this matter then he'd lose affinity points, and he can't have that because it's a pain to build things up again.

So he does what he does best: think. Strategize. What would be the most efficient way to wooing you with one text message? Which one would leave the most impact?

It's now been twenty minutes and he still has nothing to show for all his strategizing.

Instead he sits in silence, as if staying still would miraculously give him the right combination of words to use.

[Hint: Struggling?

Why not look at the past where it all began? You might've missed something.]

[Hint: Item "old phone"]

He nearly flinches at the system's sudden intervention. Keyword: nearly. He doesn't actually flinch, but he is pretty surprised by its timely appearance.

Jinwoo narrows his eyes, reading through the window's words. He scoffs. Him? Struggle? No, not really.

He had it handled. Cool.

He hastily closed the pop up. He didn't need help; he had it all handled. It's just one possible love interest(his heart races at the thought of it alone but he pushes it down. It's been so long, he thinks himself to be incapable of love. Especially someone free of sins like you.) just another quest he had to follow through.

Staring at his phone again, his eyes twitch when he sees the empty text box haunting him. No, this is a trivial matter, he wasn't so helpless that he'd need a system to help him out.

He hasn't sunk into such levels of patheticness yet.

[Hint: use "old" phone]

His inventory practically opens itself upon a moment of inactiveness, pointing to his old phone he somehow has in the inventory despite not remembering putting it there for some reason with a glowing outline.

He parts his lips slightly in surprise. When did that get there? How did it end up in his inventory even?

He looks at the system window with a troubled look. Why was the system being so pushy about it?

Well, it's not like he can't handle it on his own. However, since the system's being very insistent on lending a help, then might as well accept.

Swallowing thickly, he mentally takes the phone from his inventory. He watches as it manifests on his hold, as broken as it was before he gave up on it.

He deadpans. How was he supposed to get help from this?

[Item: Old phone(broken)

Repair? (-200 gold)]

Of course. How convenient. He thinks with a doubtful stare, what was the system's plan and how do you fit in the grand scheme of things?

It doesn't occur to him that it might've just been because it picked up on his feelings and urged him to act them out.

200 gold? A measly amount. But was he willing to spend such luxury just for the sake of bettering if messaging skills?

No. No it's not worth it.

...

[-200 gold]

[Brand new! Old phone(repaired)]

He looks at the now repaired phone. It was fascinating how easily they fixed such an ancient product. There were no cracks on its screen, as if it was brand new despite its already decade old model.

He questions how it could do that, but he doesn't linger on the thought. It was the least of his problems right now.

Pressing the power button, he coaxes the ancient phone back to life. He understands that it should've retired by this time and be allowed rest, but he needed whatever wisdom was stored inside the phone.

It takes a little more coaxing before it finally comes back to life. The screen flickers, as if protesting about its sudden resurrection.

He mentally apologizes, but quickly moves on to type his password that somehow someway still lurked in the back of his mind.

The phone opens up to your chat threat immediately, providing no other option to skim through anything else. Again, he wonders how the system could do that, but the system had always been mysterious like that.

Skimming through chat logs of his past, he lets go of his more modern gadget in favor of reading through everything this old(kind of) edition had to give.

And oh, it had a lot to give. Too many memories to read in one sitting, matter of fact.

At first, the messages were all mundane, expected. Assignments, casual questions, meet up plans, thoughtful check-ins with your personality shining through every message you sent.

As the messages grow warmer, more relaxed, the snarkier, the softer your messages become. Witty comments, playful banter, inside jokes, feigned squabbles—and then Jinwoo laughs.

Not a full blown chortle, but a quiet chuckle. His lips twitch upwards, and he does little to fight it. His shoulders shake as shame fills him. Unguarded, his cheeks turn the slightest bit red as he reads through the chats.

It's all there. His horrible jokes, your dramatic reactions, your teasing, his playful annoyance, his horrible flirts that never did lead him anywhere, and all the memes you sent to him in a passing once.

Sweat drips down his back as he reads through every message. Goodness, he was so obvious back then. So stupid and so...youthful.

He furrows his brow in half amusement half embarrassment. The him of the past was no laughing matter.

Failing to even realize it, Jinwoo's already immersing himself in every text, fascinated by how close the two of you grew, and how it reflected on the messages you sent. He doesn't even notice the time, too busy chuckling or getting the urge to bang his head as he reads through everything.

He finds a meme he sent you called 'unfunny but still endearing'

He finds a chat of you crushing hard on a certain character. (He then used it as the basis for your ideal type. Tried to build himself around that archetype, only to fail spectacularly and be laughed at by you, who then assured him he was fine as is)

He finds plans for an outing (he deluded himself into thinking it was a date) done by the two of you so late at night.

He finds a string of messages leading to him complimenting your new look, to which you follow along with a "took you long enough, I've been waiting for you to notice." (He remembers the blow you:'ve done to his heart just with that message. He was a fool who was hopessly inlove, overjoyed with such a simple sentiment. Now's different, though.)

He finds a thread of the both of you complaining about exams and sending your prayers in hopes you don't get kicked out of your house(s) upon seeing the results.

Everything's light hearted, playful. He himself can't stop the smile from forming on his lips as he scrolls through the history he once participated in with you.

He doesn't even notice the time passing, only snapping out of his immersion when he hears his more recent phone ping and blink open to get his attention.

Ding.

Jinwoo blinks, a smidge surprised after getting interrupted midway his backreading session. Acting similarly to a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar, he looks around discreetly and clears his throat.

Casting the phone aside, he picks up the newer edition.

You:

Did you get home safely?

He eyes the time, eyes widening just a fraction as he notices the time. An hour had already passed, and he still has yet to send a message. Realizing this, an awkward grin takes its place in his features.

Whoops.

Ashamed of how sidetracked he got when he was given the opportunity to backread, he pockets the old phone and saves the reading for another day. Or maybe later. Those text messages made for good entertainment(Only if he disassociates himself from this past version of him and pretends it was another person entirely)

What was supposed to be information gathering for what would be the best thing to message ended up becoming him marathoning the chat threads you and him created during the years.

You:

Sorry stupid question

You definitely got home safely

He stares at the keyboard for a few moments, seeing your message immediately. A small smile curves up, and he lets it linger as he stares at your contact.

Gingerly picking the words he assumed would be safe, lithe fingers type out a coherent message for him to send.

Jinwoo:

I did.

Thanks for the concern

His thumb hovers over the send button for a moment, hesitation creeping back up again like an old friend he never truly outgrew.

His text is simple. Straightforward. Safe. Typed like how any other person would reply.

But after scrolling through all those old messages, Jinwoo knows something simple won’t cut it.(It would, but you deserve better. For higher affinity points, of course.) Not when you were always the one adding color to his grayscale world. It's blunt and to the point, to send it would be to end the thread before anything could even begin.

He exhales, low and slow, before backspacing the whole message.

He stares at the empty text box again. He's been staring it for a good amount now. He thinks it's a bit crazy how worried he is about this. He forces the feeling down, this is normal, he just wants to get the quest over with quickly.

Before he can overthink, he closes his eyes for a moment and lets his fingers move on their own, sealing his face.

Jinwoo:

I did.

Thanks for worrying about me.

...It's kind of nostalgic, seeing you worry.

He stops, frowning a little. Is it too much? Too emotional? No—it was honest. Beru’s words, as annoying as it might've sounded, echo faintly in his mind: Perhaps it would be best to simply be honest.

Before he can continue to talk himself out of it, Jinwoo taps send.

The message flies off, sent, and now irreversible. He slouches back against his chair, letting out a sigh and tossing the phone(coolly) onto the desk like it personally wronged him.

Seconds pass, turning into a full fledged minute, and then a minute becomes two. Still, there was nothing.

He taps his foot—not anxiously, just a way to pass the time. His eyes remained glued to the screen despite himself.

Ding.

You:

Hahaha!

I guess it is nostalgic huh?

Old habits die hard

Guess some things don't change.

He lets go of the breath he unconsciously held.

You:

Except, I guess, you’re a lot cooler now.

Way cooler than I remember, honestly.

In all aspects.

I feel like a peasant talking with a bigshot now ToT

He closes his parted lips. Fingers achingly frozen. He's not usually this pathetic, he's really not—it's just the joy of catching up to an old friend getting to him. And the system at work too.

You:

...Anyway!!

How did Jinah like the shortcake?

Sung Jinwoo stares. Again, he took one too many seconds long thinking of a reply (defending himself from no one) and you're already moving onto another topic before he can reply.

Taking his time reading through your messages, his mind scrambles to recall his younger sister's reaction.

"I'm home," Jinwoo's voice echoed throughout the living room.

Jinah, currently curled up on the couch, her eyes glued to the TV as she watches a new episode of the soap opera she recently subscribed to these past weeks.

"Welcome home." She replies without skipping a bit, refusing to take her eyes off of the drama.

Without any warning, Jinwoo set a small box down on the table in front of her without ceremony and with the nonchalance of a cool guy, bluntly said;

"Eat it."

Jinah blinked, parting from the tv for once and staring at the box in question. "What is this?"

"Cake."

That got her attention. She put her phone down and cautiously opened the lid. Inside was a perfectly neat slice of strawberry cake—not homemade, not store-brand cheap either. Actual bakery cake.

Jinah stared at the cake, then at Jinwoo, then back at the cake.

"...Why?" she asked, the gears in her head beginning to whir.

Jinwoo shrugged. "No reason."

"No reason," she repeated slowly, voice flat. "Are you sure?"

He headed for the kitchen without elaborating, leaving her holding the suspiciously luxurious dessert.

"Where's mom?"

Jinah narrowed her eyes, but answered his question nevertheless. "Out on the market."

Jinwoo hums, expressing his acknowledgement even without words. Jinah takes this as an opportunity to push for more information.

"You don't usually bring cake," she states. Her tone cool, low, suspicious.

"I did today," Jinwoo said, sounding way too casual.

Jinah pokes the cake with her fork like it might explode. "Did something happen?"

She gasps dramatically. "Did you...commit a crime?"

"No." Jinwoo deadpans.

"Are you dying?"

"No." His brows twitch.

"Are we dying?" His lips curl.

"No," Jinwoo repeated, sounding faintly exasperated now.

Jinah narrowed her eyes further. "You went on a date, didn't you?"

There was a beat of silence from the kitchen. He thought to ignore her and hope for the best, but clearly it wasn't the greatest action to take as she took it as a yes.

She gasped. Loud. Dramatic. "You totally did!"

"Eat your cake," Jinwoo says, voice muffled by the sound of running water.

"No wonder you were dressed so nicely today!"

He turns off the faucet, glaring half heatedly at his younger sister. "If you keep asking questions I'm taking that back."

Jinah gasps, offended, and hugs the cake close. "No way! I've been eyeing this bakery for so long now!"

"Then just be quiet and eat it."

She huffs, glares, stabs the cake with a fork and menacingly eats it—all the while without blinking an eye.

"You win this time." She begins, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then pointing it to him. "But I will be finding out more about this."

Jinwoo rolls his eyes. "Sure sure, you'll find nothing though, so you're just wasting your time."

"As if I believe you."

Yep, he thinks. Jinah liked it. Definitely.

Jinwoo:

Yea

She was happy about it and wouldn't even share

You:

LMAO TT

That's a relief

I was worried my recommendation would be outdated

Did you say hi to her for me?

Jinwoo:

...

Jinwoo pauses. Oh, he forgot. He couldn't tell her now either—it would only further encourage whatever delusion was going on inside her head. If Jinah found out he was out with an old friend, he definitely wouldn't hear the end of it.

Jinwoo:

Yes

She said hi too

He lies without skipping a beat. Just a small white lie until Jinah forgets about this incident. He'll tell her about you later, just not now. She's already suspicious enough as is, and he wouldn't want to give her more material to work with.

Especially since he didn't like you anymore. He doesn't want to get in any misunderstandings with you.

Taglist: @minh907 @daiyanomochi @soft-dots @snowy-violet @kokominari @ssolarsystm @2dmenfr @baby-bread-in @awwwia @coffeeisbehindyou @rai-xxx @sanchann @ilovestarwholock218 @simpingpandas @smellysluna @tanspostsblog

#ᯓᡣ𐭩fyuyu's works #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #solo leveling x reader #manhwa x reader #sung jinwoo x y/n #sung jinwoo x you

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uyuuma · 1 year ago

Text

“ THE MOVIE'S NOT THAT SCARY ”

bigbro!choso x fem!reader ღ MDNI.

❥ summary. you and yuji itadori have been best friends since middle school. you often came over for movie nights with him and his big brother. little does yuji know about the things you and his big bro have been up to.

❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, slight age gap, doing stuff under the covers next to yuji, etc.

❥ a/n. i've been thinking of this scenario for a while. was super fun to write about, ive become a choso girlie in recent times :)

❥ wc. 2.3k

"Yo, you still on for movie night?" A voice calls out from behind you.

You turn around and see that it's Yuji, your best friend. You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and smile at the familiar face.

"Yes, of course!" You replied enthusiastically.

Yuji has been your friend all the way back from middle school. You transferred as a new student and he was the first person to introduce himself. You guys quickly became close friends because of his kind and extroverted demeanor.

Yuji had an ongoing tradition with you where you guys would have movie nights on Fridays. It was mostly held at his house since he had the bigger TV. Throughout middle and high school you guys would excitedly choose a movie and watch it after a long week of school, wrapping up the week in a fun celebration.

Sometime in your senior year of high school, some things changed in Yuji's household. His older half-brother, Choso, moved into the house with Yuji. You could remember the day like it was yesterday, the first time you laid eyes on the pale man.

He was around 7 years older than you from what Yuji told you. Already long graduated college before you even started. You felt something inside you spark when you first saw him, you weren't really sure what it was though. It could've been his stoic face or perhaps how he towered over you in height. But something made you feel giddy whenever you were around him.

Choso began to join in on movie nights, around the time you were 19. Calmly resting on one side of you, with Yuji engulfed in the movie on the other side of the couch. Yuji was always too immersed into the movie to notice how you and Choso would share glances at each other every now and then. It even flew right over his head when you started to wear skimpier outfits when coming over as well. How your oversized t-shirts and sweats turned into tight lacy-tank tops and booty shorts that accentuated your ass just right. I mean, it wasn't his fault because Yuji never saw you in that way.

Oh, but Choso did. He noticed how exchanging glances turned into you nudging your hand against his, or how you playfully rubbed your foot against his leg. How your clothes became increasingly revealing every week or how you would cling to him at the scary part of a movie.

Choso was experienced, he could tell how hard you were trying to get his attention. He found it extremely adorable at your attempts to flirt with him. He would often let out a quiet chuckle or make clever remarks that would make you get butterflies in your tummy.

It wasn't long before you and Choso started to mess around. How Yuji never noticed how you two would disappear halfway into the movie for an hour, was beyond you. It was a common occurrence for you to tease Choso under the blanket too much, making him excuse himself that he had to lay down in his room from a 'headache'. He would then shoot you a glare and squeeze hard onto your thigh, signaling to you that you better follow. You would then excuse yourself a couple of minutes later so that you could use the bathroom.

Really you were headed to Choso's room, where he would bury his cock into you until you begged him for mercy. Your body spasming from his ruthless pounding, covered in sweat. After he felt like you received the correct punishment for whatever you did that pissed him off, he would quickly clean up to join back with Yuji. You would follow him, the stench of sex still all over you. But, Yuji never seemed to notice.

That still applied to your current situation. You were sitting in between the boys, blanket on your lap as it extended to Choso's. Yuji didn't use a blanket, he just had his favorite pillow on his lap. Tonight Choso recommended that you guys watch a horror film. Yuji put on the original 'Scream' excitedly, since he enjoyed cheesy horror flicks.

A little into the movie Yuji had already become absorbed into the plot, not paying any mind to the two of you. That was when you felt Choso's arm move behind you. You believed it to be him just putting his arm around your shoulder so you leaned into him. That was when you stifled a gasp from exiting your mouth as you felt his warm fingers pull at your shorts.

You look up at him, holding back a whimper as he snaked his hand through the back of your shorts. His fingers found their way to your panties, skillfully parting it out of the way. He used his middle finger to gently rub against your clit, hoping to get you wet. It worked as you easily became soaked from his touch.

He smirked and kept his eyes on the TV, moving one of his digits along your slit. You squeezed your legs together from the warm sensation and leaned into Choso's shoulder. You fought back a moan by gripping onto his sleeve.

Choso then plunges his slender and long middle finger into your soft cunt. He gave out a muffled groan disguised as him clearing his throat as he felt himself become hard from the sensation alone. Something about how your pussy sucked in his finger made him want to fuck you right then and there. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible at this very moment.

Feeling how your pussy squeezed his finger and legs quivered from his touch made him add another finger. It made you gasp, feeling him slowly insert his ring finger inside of you, gasp audibly enough for Yuji to pick up on it.

"Hah, looks like you still find horror movies scary." Yuji said teasingly, looking over briefly. He turned to face the TV, still being clueless as to what was going on.

You gave out a nervous giggle in response and moved to look back at the TV, trying not to break the act.

However, Choso would not let up as he started to move his fingers inside of you. You squeezed your thighs together as he finger-fucked your little hole. His fingers began to grind against your walls as he curled them to hit your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he hit that spot relentlessly, trying to get you to make more noise.

Choso loved to humiliate you, so he worked his damned hardest to get you to let out your sweet moans. He knew Yuji was too stupid to catch on, he just simply wanted you to feel embarrassed.

That was when he quickened the pace, your wetness starting to cover his fingers in slick. A familiar wet slapping sound began to seep from beneath the blanket, as he moved his fingers aggressively into your needy cunt. You quickly glanced at Yuji, knowing for certain he could hear that.

"Damn, the sound effects in this movie are pretty realistic." Yuji said as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth.

You become hot in the face knowing your lewd little cunt was making sounds loud enough that Yuji could hear it.

"Yeah, I guess they know what it sounds like to rearrange someone's guts." Choso said with a smirk. His voice was nonchalant, but you knew it was his sadistic way of poking fun at you.

You suck in air through your teeth annoyedly, closing your eyes, trying to relax as best as you could.

Unfortunately for you, Choso would give you no moment of reprieve as he timed his fingers curling and stroking your sweet spot along with the biggest jumpscare of the movie.

You let out a shocked moan, gripping onto Choso's bicep harder. You hid your face in Choso's chest in embarrassment, trying to slink away from Yuji as much as possible.

"Woah, calm down. The movie's not that scary." Yuji was surprised by your sudden reaction. He looked at how you clutched onto his big brother for safety and just smiled. He was glad you at least could find relief in Choso. Unbeknownst to him, you were fighting for your life not to spasm uncontrollably and cum all over Choso's fingers. Yuji returned his attention to the movie.

Choso was now painfully hard under the blanket, his erection going untouched for quite some time now. He hissed, feeling himself become constrained in his boxers. The pace at which he was moving his fingers started to slow down as he readjusted himself next to you. He moved his legs so that they were spread out beneath the blanket.

You could tell that meant he was hard and you looked up at him to see what he wanted next. Your eyes were met with his normal, expressionless gaze. The light from the TV perfectly illuminated his face to where he looked almost intimidating. He then bent down enough to where he could whisper into your ear.

"I want to fuck your throat." His breath was hot against your ear.

You looked at him, trying to see if he was being serious. He was. He guided you with his left hand to feel how stiff his cock was. You gulped and looked down at his lap, gently rubbing against his erection. He let out a low groan and leaned back against the couch, still keeping his fingers inside you.

You look at Yuji real quick and wait for something scary to happen again in the movie. As soon as you heard a woman shriek on the TV, you quickly hid under the blanket, resting your head on Choso's lap.

You could hear Yuji's muffled laughing from beneath the cover, him buying into your act that you were hiding from the movie.

You then watched as Choso took his left hand to free himself from his sweatpants and underwear, his dick was flushed at the tip and throbbing. You took a deep breath and inched closer toward it, licking lightly on his tip. You could taste the salty precum start to cover your tongue as well as how his abs flexed from your touch. You slowly took him into your mouth, letting your saliva coat his cock. You could tell he was getting annoyed from how slow you were moving because he bucked his pelvis into your face, catching you off guard. You choked a little but quickly caught up to the pace he wanted.

Feeling your slutty throat engulf his cock from under the blanket made him go feral. He went back to fucking your cunt with his fingers. He almost let out a guttural moan from the sensation of your two holes tightening around him. Instead, he just held his mouth and chin with his hand to muffle his sounds. He feigned a bored look on his face, almost as if he was falling asleep, but really he was occupied with how amazing your mouth felt.

His thrusts into your pussy matched the pace that you swallowed him, he was entranced trying to help the both of you cum together.

You too, became absorbed in the moment. Forgetting that outside of the blanket was innocent Yuji, who knew nothing of what was going on. You were caught up in sliding your tongue skillfully along Choso's length and feeling how your throat molded to the shape of his cock.

Choso could feel your saliva start to drip down into his boxers and the feeling was so lewd that his body tensed up. He began to struggle holding in his sounds and jittery movements, he knew he needed to finish or he'd lose it.

His fingers curled against your sensitive spot again, this time he mixed it with quick thrusts, making you moan around his cock. The sound was luckily unheard because the movie was playing loud music. The moan caused vibrations in your throat, which made Choso's eyes dart to the back of his skull. He was so fucking close to busting down your throat, he could feel it coming.

He added a third finger into your sopping wet cunt and continued to massage the spot that he knew so well. This was the final straw for you as you felt your orgasm crash down in waves. Your pussy clenched around his fingers as you came, your legs spasming uncontrollably and your toes curled.

He also reached ecstasy after feeling you squeeze him. He thrusted into your mouth and came as far down your throat as he possibly could. You could feel his hot, thick load spurt into your throat as you struggled to swallow.

After both of you regaining composure and calming your breathing Choso slowly withdrew his fingers from your tired cunt as well as you cleaning him off gently with your mouth. He tucked himself back into his sweats and you took that as a sign to come out of the blanket for some fresh air.

You came out, lights from the TV blinding you temporarily. As your vision adjusted you can see Yuji looking down at you.

"Aw, you missed the ending of the movie." He said slightly disappointed. He took note of your disheveled appearance, hair all tangled and mascara slighting ruined. "You must've been really scared, huh?" He asked worried about you.

"Ah, yeah I should've warned you that I don't handle horror movies that well." You said nervously, trying to comb your hair with your fingers.

"It's alright, I just hope you won't have any nightmares tonight!" Yuji said as he stood up, starting to clear the dishes off the coffee table.

"Don't worry lil bro, I don't think she's getting that much sleep tonight anyways." Choso said with a wide smirk. He winked at you and slid his slick covered fingers into his mouth to taste it.

You watched as he savored your flavor on his tongue, his eyes not moving off of yours.

You guessed you were probably sleeping over tonight.

#female reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso

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synvil · 6 months ago

Text

anytime, anywhere // bsf! roommate! rafe cameron

a/n : this is mix blurb and oneshot? enjoy.

warnings : nsfw! dark-ish content (( well not really )), free use! sex, dub-con, penetration, no protection, etc. porn without plot basically

“fuck, [name], you take me in so well.”

The way he slides into your velvety walls, the way you clench around him subconsciously while you lay flat on your stomach and playing your game, it’s almost enough to drive him insane.

You don’t have a care in the world, not batting a second glance to the fact that he’s using your body for his own pleasure, having entered your room and yanked your bottoms down along with his sweatpants. He hovers behind you and teases your clit for a few seconds, watching and feeling it throb with need before he pushes in in an instant.

You whimper slightly at the sudden action, feeling filled up as you attempt to maintain your focus on your game, but it’s too late.

“Damn, lost again.” You groan out in frustration as you lose your game for the nth time, restarting your level while the man behind you moans out in ecstasy, his hips rutting into yours a few times before he releases his load into you, slowly sliding out with a plop, at his cum continues to spurt onto your skin.

“Thanks, [Name].” He exhales in satisfaction as he finds a random rag on the ground and tosses it your way before leaving your room, leaving you alone to clean while you stay distracted with your game.

this was your relationship with your best friend and roommate.

you’ve been single for so long, and desperate for any touch, any sort of excitement in your life, and your friends decide to take you out to distract your mind.

unfortunately you got so drunk that you don’t seem to recall the text that occurs between you and your best friend rafe, who you’ve been attracted to for so long.

“fuck rafe, you’re so fuckin’ hot.. you should totally just fuck me everywhere”

“[name]? what’s going on?”

“stupid.. i’m so lonely and all i want is your cock in me”

“i’d do anything if you’ll use me forever anytime you want n no one elsereeee”

“fuck, are you being for real, [name]?”

“how could i lie to someone like you sexy <3”

and things have changed between you since.

the next morning when you returned home, rafe took care of you and by the afternoon, he asked if you remembered anything from last night. let’s just say you were completely mortified but rafe didn’t seem to be opposed to the idea.

“who would’ve thought..” he teased as he crawls over the bed atop of you. the way your cheeks flush and the excitement in your eyes makes him know that you really want this too.

and my god did he give you what you’ve been waiting for.

and now its just a daily common occurrence.

some examples of your daily life..

In the middle of a movie, it’s just you and him cuddled up on the couch, until you go to get up. In the midst of doing so, you knock the remote off your lap and bent over to pick it up, wearing spandex that rises up your thighs when you do.

rafe’s eyes flicker from the screen to your ass in a split second, and his erection begins to form.

once you stand straight, before you can go anywhere, rafe already has his hands in your waist and pulling you back down onto his lap. you protest, attempting to stand but his grip is firm. “rafe, i’m getting a drink-“

“funny, i’m getting thirsty too.” he murmurs into your ear as he lifts you just a tad, enough to slide down his shorts and pull out his hardened cock free and he prods it at your clothed entrance. “c’mon, [name].” he huskily breathes and you huff, sliding off your spandex and panties. once you do, rafe doesn’t waste another second as he slides right in and you mewl, leaning back against him as he fucks you.

his hands reach the remote that you had grabbed and he clicks play on the movie, resuming the film as he murmurs small hushes into your ear every time you make a noise.

“shush, i’m trying to watch.”

when you’re in the middle of a call with your friends, rafe doesn’t hesitate to step right into the room.

he watches as you laugh at something a friend said, spinning simply on your chair by your desk and he comes over, going down to his knees. he manages to catch you by surprise when he spins your chair to face him but he sends a warning look and you keep quiet, focusing on the voice of your friends on the other line.

and when rafe slides your bottoms off, and his tongue pressed flat against your pussy lips, your hand occasionally reaches up to bite down on your fingers, eyes unable to leave his. he ravishes every taste of you, devouring your pussy as he buries his nose deeper, rubbing your clit that’s throbbing for more.

‘don’t you think so, [name]?’ someone on the other end hums and you manage a weak laugh. “yeah, it’s pretty crazy.” you respond, turning back to your monitor and clicking on some things to distract yourself.

it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming, your juices gushing down your thighs and leaking onto your chair and down his chin as he licks every drop clean.

rafe smirks in satisfaction as he pulls back, giving a slow lick to his lips before he winks and leaves to clean himself up, leaving you alone in a breathless state.

rafe coming home from work, seeing you in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you, it stirs something in him. maybe he’s just frustrated and exhausted from work and he needs a relief, but either way, there’s something about the way the apron is wrapped tightly around you waist, accentuating your curves, it makes him hungry.

but hungry for dessert was more like it.

you’d be in the middle of cutting some vegetables on the countertop, listening to your playlist that plays on the speaker and don’t notice rafe pulling up behind you.

when his hands place itself on your hips, you jump, turning your head. “oh rafe, i’m almost finish with—“

“doesn’t matter. i’m hungry for something else right now.” he mutters as he pushes your back downward so you bent over the countertop, and he pulls at the hem of your pants. he pulls them down, along with your underwear and uses his fingers to rub your pussy softly, feeling as it gradually wets.

You moan gently, eyes fluttering shut and rafe chuckles, pulling his fingers back and bringing it to his lips. he sucks on his index finger for a moment before he licks his lips. “delicious..”

he then leans down to meet your ear and grins. “but while i satisfy my hunger, you should finish cooking, [name]. you’ll need to eat later too.” he then laughs as he licks your neck. “but make sure you have room for dessert after.”

and as you try to focus on cutting the rest of the veggies, rafe is pounding into you from behind; his body thrusting in and out of you while your body and breasts bounce, making it difficult.

and you loved every second of it.

it was practically a no strings attached, friends with benefits relationship. but you didn’t care, if it meant you were rafe’s exclusive free use doll.

but to think this started, all because of a drunken text.

well, it was worth it. you were his, free to use anytime, anywhere.

a/n: porn without plot idk i did this last minute without thinking but that’s bc id love to be rafe cameron’s free use toy <3

hope you enjoyed. :p this wasn’t my best work~

synvil™️ do not copy my work :)

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fawningflowered · 11 months ago

Text

your camera roll as paige’s girlfriend — p. bueckers x fem!reader.

001. posted to your friends only story, showing just how many sanrio plushies your girlfriend had bought you.

002. showing paige all the trufru's you picked up for her + kk.

003. you found this on pinterest, saved it, then sent it to paige simply because it described your relationship so well. paige was no doubt a “yapper” while you were more of a listener. that’s why you worked so well.

004. you were jokingly taking pictures of paige as she posed with her ipad, which might be her most prized possession. most nights kk would walk into the living room just to see you two doing stuff like this, or playing roblox. ever since you got with paige, you started healing your inner child.

005. driving in the car with her, it was an often occurrence that at some point throughout the ride, her hand would end up on your thigh.

006. date night at top golf.

007. this one was taken, then posted to instagram.. just to capture one of the silly things you’d find paige doing often.

008. after practice, there was nothing your girlfriend loved more than to cuddle in bed after a shower. she put on the matching hello kitty pajama pants you’d left out for her, and hopped into bed to cuddle. after a few minutes of watching tiktok’s on your phone with her, she turned on the playstation and played twd as you watched.

009. while waiting for a cab in the city, you snapped another quick silly photo of the girl. this photo has since become her contact photo just because it makes you laugh whenever you look at it.

010. the two of you had gone to the gym, paige always did, and you'd decided to start going aswell. in all honesty, you were going just to stare at her.. not that she minded.

011. you sat next to the blonde, as she got her hair and makeup done. it wasn't what she usually spent her days doing, but she'd been going on side quests lately and had many photoshoots. watching as the makeup artist's enhanced your girlfriends features, you snapped a pic.

012. late night walks were common among you, kk, and paige. kk, who seemed like your child, moped and walked slowly behind you and your girlfriend. pulling out her phone to take a snap for streaks, kk sent the picture to you, figuring you'd like it.

taglist: @bveckers @kmoneymartini @cosmopretty @charlottehughess @aubreygriffin @favreader23 @miaroman @alyrasturnz , divs by @/anitalenia

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #womens basketball #uconn #uconn lives #uconn huskies

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cercandodiscrivere · 6 months ago

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Quod fata ferunt | emperor geta x reader.

word count | 2.3k

tags | @self-shipping-doll13

warnings | 18+, NSFW, concubines, blowjobs, porn with too much plot, unbeta'd.

synopsis | Being the favored one of an Emperor came with many privileges, one of them being able to see his most human side.

Under all their power and their might, even powerful ruler are still men at their core.

gifs by @batty4steddie

Geta is worried.

You don’t blame him; you understand.

You were present when he decided upon Acacio’s fate: all it took to turn the common people against their rulers where good words and a fleeting display of gentleness among foes – which ultimately meant nothing. Greater men have begged for mercy within the walls of the Colosseum, their distressed cries ignored by the spectators.

No, it wasn't pity that stirred the crowd: the anger had been simmering in their minds before, biding its time for the perfect opportunity to release itself.

A single withered leaf can ignite an entire town if placed upon an open flame.

Geta understands the significance of this – so he is worried.

It is an uncommon occurrence, which in turn worries you.

He paces around his chambers, twisting and turning the rings on his fingers – gold and gemstones and colored glass that send shimmering hues throughout the rooms.

The same hand he is torturing now condemned a man just moments earlier: and even as it happened, you couldn't help but wonder if Acacio would be the only one to bear the brunt of fate.

“You did what you had to do” you try.

There was no specific reason for why you were taken – dragged – to his quarters, other than the fact that you happened to be near him when the rebellion broke out. Amidst the chaos, two praetorians seized both you and Geta as their comrades protected Caracalla and Macrinus.

Oh, it was an incredible privilege to be invited to witness the fights from the imperial pulvinar: and yet, if you hadn't been busy serving wine to your domine the exact moment the revolt started, you would have likely been left to be trampled over by a raging mob.

Three other favorites of the Emperors were also present, but you haven’t seen them since. They weren't present in the chambers where the twins and their arms-dealer discussed what had occurred. None of them came running when Caracalla erupted into screams, nor when he stormed out of the chambers followed closely by Macrinus.

Alone with your master, you watch as he paces back and forth.

The argument with his brother left Geta in an even worse state, if that is possible. His mind seems to be pulled in two different directions, the distress visible on his face.

He knows some of the words spoken by Caracalla may hold truth, despite being laced with the poison of his illness.

Could he have made a mistake in his decision?

The Gods themselves communicate with him in ways that you could never comprehend – not with words, but through the sacred blood he shares with them. Did he misunderstand their wishes?

Even in his divine state, he may not be immune to the burdens of human existence. After all, despite sharing the same sacred lineage, Caracalla's mind is still plagued with flaws.

“There was nothing else to do” you say again. You feel a bit useless as you parrot his own words back to him, but in this delicate situation you fear saying anything that could be taken as an insult.

Geta is a pleasant companion and a passionate paramour – for those who know how to handle him.

From a young age, you have been taught how to play the lyre. Over time you lost the quick skilled fingers needed to captivate an audience, but the lessons learned still serve you in other ways.

In untrained hands, the instrument produces nothing but a jumble of harsh and unpleasant sounds: only those who have mastered it can create a tune that leaves others yearning for more.

During your initial encounter with Geta, you likened him to a lyre; a rather silly comparison, perhaps, but figuring out how to please him in order to gain his favor felt much like learning to strum the strings at the right moment.

And what a masterful musician you’ve been with him.

Still, the Emperor possesses the fiery temperament of a powerful man not accustomed to receiving criticism. He is quick to boast and show anger - but just as quick to calm down and become merciful again.

I play a lyre made of splintered wood, you think, but quickly push the image aside before a smirk can form on your face.

"You made the right decision" you repeat as you stand up, trying to infuse your voice with comfort.

Your movement catches Geta’s attention. He stops in the middle of the room, lingering, but not quite still. His hands continue to fidget and twitch: he looks at you as if he had completely forgotten of your presence.

Taking advantage of his confusion, you approach him and gently place your hand on his tense arm. “The praetorians are fulfilling their duty. Has any crowd ever been able to sway them?”

There have been past attempts at rebellion by the common people - their leaders too weak, too consumed by hunger to have the chance to succeed.

When Geta finally speaks, he does so while grasping your hand, his gaze fixed on the windows once again. “They listened to that poet’s words. That has never happened before.”

You refuse to acknowledge it, but he is right. It is not uncommon for gladiators to captivate audiences with their skillful use of spears and brutal displays of violence – but never with peace messages or pledges of liberation.

In another life, the man’s perspective would have seemed almost convincing. In this one, you've witnessed far too many good-willed revolutionaries meet a violent end.

“Gentle words can’t win a battle” you gently stroke his cheek, tilting his chin towards you so that he focuses on your face instead of the chaos happening outside. “Gladiators tend not to live long” you add to further placate his mind.

Geta’s eyes move, following your gentle guidance. He leans in and presses his lips against the inside of your wrist, sending shivers down your spine from the warmth of his breath on your skin.

Being the favored one of an Emperor came with many privileges, one of them being able to see his most human side. Under all their power and their might, even powerful ruler are still men at their core. Still, in moments like this one – when he stares at you with such vulnerability and openness, as if your voice is the only thing worth hearing – it becomes harder to contain your feelings to a level deemed acceptable for your position.

“The Gods have spoken through you” you reassure him once again, this time shifting just enough so you can pull him towards the lectus. “To attack you is to declare war on the deities themselves.”

“My brother…” he starts, but his voice fades. His eyes are shrouded in shadows once again; crammed amongst the pillows, he appears almost like a scared child, lying down but still far from being at ease. You gently twirl his ginger locks between your fingers, feigning a calmness that eludes you.

“He is scared” you murmur. You search for words that are reassuring yet respectful; it doesn't matter how much Geta favors you above others, you would still find yourself in the dungeons if you showed Caracalla any less devotion that what his status demanded.

“The mob is loud, but screams are nothing to arrows and swords” as you talk, you gradually lower yourself onto your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. “The praetorians are loyal to you and you only, no pretty words can change that.”

He hums, a quiet sound. “What about your pretty words?” he smirks.

A mischievous grin creeps onto your face as you play with the delicate hem of the elegant ivory palla draped over his tunic. “All I say is for your satisfaction.”

From this angle, with white paint masking his features, he bears the same daunting presence as the marble figures that decorate the halls: a god once again, towering over his most devoted disciple.

“All I do, is to please you.”

It’s eerie how greedily his gaze seems to follow even the slightest fraction of your movement, yet he remains seated on the cushions without making a single motion. His breath escapes in short puffs, tickling your forehead.

Now it's your turn to take control: this is the moment when he abandons his all his titles and becomes nothing but a man.

You remain on your knees between his spread legs, lightly tapping your fingers against his inner thigh - but still, he does not budge.

The challenge in his eyes is unmistakable, as if he's daring you to do something - anything - without his assistance.

As you press your lips against his clothed cock, he lets out a loud grunt, as if there was no fabric between your kiss and his skin. The noise goes straight between your legs, but this evening is not meant for you.

You continue to tease him, kissing your way up and down his thigh, deliberately avoiding his erection. To his credit, he tries his hardest to stifle his groans as best he can, but you can sense his muscles tensing and his patience wearing thin.

You want to consume him. You tug at the fabric of his tunic; this time, he doesn't hesitate and quickly moves into action, removing his own clothes until his hips are bare.

He begins to mention something about comfort, gesturing towards the luxurious pillows that surround him - but you're already nuzzling at his exposed thigh and the words die on his tongue. With one arm slipping beneath his knee, your body presses closer to his, the other hand running along his skin, hot and damp with sweat.

It’s intoxicating how you can make Geta shudder even when you’re taking your time with it. Sometimes, you've questioned whether it's expected of you to just pleasure him as soon as he asks – but in truth, you enjoy taking your time, savoring the sound of his soft moans.

Mouthing at his pale skin, dragging your nails down his legs with enough strenght to leave a trail of soft red marks. You plant a kiss on the head of his cock, pleased to see that precum is already forming at its tip. You eagerly lap at it with your tongue, paying no attention to the way your actions cause him to grip the cushions of the lectus until his knuckles turn pale.

He lets out loud groan as you engulf him completely in the wet, slick warmth of your mouth. His legs shake on either side of you, his hips thrusting forward as your cheeks hollow, tongue curling as you suck him.

He keeps moaning, seemingly unconcerned about how desperate he must sound. Under different circumstances, he may have been more conscious of his tone. Perhaps, if your meeting had occurred after a triumphant war victory or a grand celebration in his honor, he would be as confident and arrogant as you are are accustomed to - but now all he craves is comfort, and you’re sucking him into oblivion.

Tracing the tip of his dick with your tongue causes him to bite down on his lower lip in response; licking along the underside has him closing his eyes and sigh. Your favorite moment, though, is when he's in so deep your chin rests on top of his balls - and he can't help but release a deep, raw moan of pleasure as he tries to thrust more into you.

You can tell he's already close just from this.

You peer out from under your lashes, eyes filled with longing, only to catch Geta's gaze fixed upon you with adoration. His mouth hangs open in a silent whimper, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows saliva. There is no being more magnificent than him in this right moment, neither god nor mortal.

Without warning, his hand shoots out and grabs onto your hair as you become more frantic. You whine, a mixture of pleasure and pain as his fingernails digs into your scalp, and he responds with even louder noises of his own.

His cock rests on the back of your tongue as he lets out rough and guttural groan and empties himself inside your mouth. His head falls back, his eyes fluttering closed.

You swallow it all, ensuring his eyes are back on you before nonchalantly wiping the cum from the side of yout mouth and licking it off your fingers.

Exhausted, you lean your head against his leg and close your eyes.

Geta's breathing is still uneven, but the haze of satisfaction is not enough to make him lose awareness completely – not when Caracalla comes back into the room, shouting.

"Get out!" he growls. The harsh order is directed towards you, still kneeling on the ground, but his gaze is fixed solely on his brother.

In the past few months, there were times when he had lost his temper. Servants, concubines, hosts: everyone was subject to his outbursts of rage – but those were short-lived explosions, like fires on wet sticks.

Caracalla's skin is now covered in red blotches, visible even through the numerous layers of makeup on his face. Whatever words Macrinus exchanged with Caracalla during their private conversation did not seem to have a soothing effect on his temper.

“Get out, leave!” he screams again, pacing back and forth in agitation. This time, Geta helps you to your feet before nodding towards the entrance. His expression is serious once more, a confident facade to hide his underlying concern.

You are dismissed.

A chill runs down your back: you have witnessed the anger of the ill Emperor before, but never in such a furious state. Caracalla is yelling, Geta stands with his hands raised in surrender.

A moment of panic overwhelms you - even greater than the fear induced by the riots outside, but you quicly manage to calm yourself and take a deep breath.

Just as you approach the door, you catch sight of Macrinus once more. He watches the twins from afar, his gaze sharp and calculating, as if ready to intervene at any moment.

He's a strong man; he'll have everything under control.

With that last comforting thought, you turn away and leave.

#emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #geta x reader #geta x you #gladiator ii fanfiction

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 9 months ago

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WHAT'S YOURS IS MINE

KINKTOBER DAY 31 - DOUBLE PENETRATION WITH JONATHAN CRANE AND JACKSON RIPPNER

Pairing.| Jonathan Crane x fem!reader x Jackson Rippner

Summary.| In college, the twin brothers shared everything and everyone. Until Jackson took it too far and drove Jonathan away. Years later, Jackson shows up with an apology gift, and what's a better gift than you?

Warnings.| Noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, head both receiving, p in v, anal, fighting for dominance, double penetration, slight cockblocking, innocent kink, kidnapping, probable Stockholm syndrome, threesome, idk they're twins is that considered incest, rough sex.

Word count.| 7.3k

Notes.| And the finaleeeeeeeeee is here. This is literally porn with plot, but oh well, its the last day so I needed go wrap this up with a bang.

One minute was all it took for Jonathan to always live in the shadow of his older twin brother, Jackson.

Growing up, the twins were two peas in a pod. Jackson was overly protective over Jonathan, controlling what some would describe. It seemed that Jonathan was his little minion, others would rudely comment. But nevertheless, Jackson always looked after his younger brother. If there was ever a bully throwing pebbles at Jonathan, Jackson would search for the biggest rock to hurl at their head.

The tight nature of their relationship continued on into their college years. Typically, they went to the same campus, one that suited and benefitted Jackson’s ambitions more than it did Jonathan. But Jonathan made it work outta love for his brother. That’s where their… little games… came into play.

All created by the mastermind himself, Jackson. Jonathan was a pawn who was more than willingly to partake. All to make his big brother proud of him and to experience those urges that he was so scared to confront. Until one day Jackson gracefully skipped over the line without care and Jonathan had finally had enough.

You could almost say Jonathan ran away from his old life. A fresh start, is how he’d word it. Gotham City was his oyster, the levels of fear and mayhem were constantly through the roof and Jonathan couldn’t pack his bags quicker to abandon his old life.

These days, Jonathan’s sole focus was his work.

In the present day, Jonathan had just returned home from Arkham, he dropped all of his belongings in his home office. Right as he laid on his lounge chair, coat and vest removed, his report book in hand, there was a knock on the door. It was unordinary, visitors were a rare occurrence. And for the off occasions that they did, they were not welcome. With an eyebrow cocked, Jonathan chose to ignore the unknown visitor. But when the knock continued in an irritating manner, Jonathan flared his nostrils and snapped his book shut.

He strided down the hall, the heels of his polished shoes clicking on the wooden planks as he didn’t even consider to peek at who was on his porch. The door flung open, but Jonathan became frozen in his stance. For a brief moment, Jonathan thought someone placed a mirror at his doorstep, but that familiar mischief grin and shaggy hairstyle eliminated that thought.

How many years had it been? Just over a decade now since Jonathan had stared at an almost perfect image of himself. Jackson brushed his hand through his damp hair, the common downpour in Gotham felt a bit too symbolic at the moment.

“Johnny” Jackson grinned cheerfully, his arms inviting him in for a hug.

An instant huff ran up from Jonathan’s lungs as his grip on the door tightened, prepared to slam it shut at any moment of impulse. As Jonathan slowly shook his head towards him, almost in a gear work motion, Jackson pouted back.

“Why are you here?” Jonathan exhaled in annoyance, his posture straightened up as his eyes darted to the flash black Mercedes parked in the driveway. The one he noticed that was parked on the opposite side of the street as had returned home

“Geez, aren’t you going to ask me how I am first?” Jackson chuckled, leaning towards the door, implying to be welcomed in. When Jonathan didn’t budge, a pure face of zero emotion locked on, Jackson sighed in defeat. “Jonathan Crane, a better last name than Rippner that’s for sure, however my name is quite fitting these days” Jackson brought up with shrugged shoulders and a smug smile.

“How did you find me?” Jonathan narrowed his eyes.

“Never lost you” Jackson winked, his arms crossed over his chest as he leant against the door. Silence quickly returned, the only sound being the rain attacking the roofing and cement outside. “Well, this isn’t the reunion I was hoping for” Jackson admitted, huffing lightly as stepping closer to enter, the tips of his polished shoes lined perfectly at the entrance. But Jonathan stood firmly in the way. “Come on, it’s been a long drive” Jackson urged, giving him sarcastic puppy eyes.

Jonathan sighed, he knew his brother was as stubborn as him, if not more. He’d say that he’d stay on the porch all night like a dog, but Jackson would be easily capable of breaking in. Hesitantly, Jonathan stepped back and Jackson jumped at the opportunity to get into the warmth of his home.

“Nice place” Jackson complimented, his head nodding in a rhythm as he strolled around his home. “However, this town certainly suits you and that mind of yours!” Jackson laughed softly as he tugged down at his suit jacket and threw it towards the living room sofa. Jonathan didn’t answer, he merely stalked him like a hawk, analyzing every sudden movement Jackson made. “But so, how’s work? Working with the criminally insane, it must be a constant field day for you” Jackson smirked, his mouth practically foaming with mockery.

“It is” Jonathan replied bluntly, his eyes remaining low.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I do?” Jackson moped sarcastically, arms crossed over again.

“Personally, I have no interest” Jonathan answered sharply, looking up to Jackson. “Why are you here Jackson?” Jonathan sighed, yet his voice was firm, his arms mimicking Jackson’s.

“My, how long are you going to be mad at me?” Jackson snorted.

Jonathan repeated his question firmly. Jackson groaned in defeat and stepped towards his brother as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“Because… I never had an opportunity to apologize” Jackson began, his tone hinting of regret and concern. “Probably because you ran away as quickly as you could. But you can’t say that I didn’t try to talk to you!” He continued on, a slither of frustration on his tongue.

Jonathan stared blankly at Jackson, the last thing he wanted to do was think of that last memory together. Mentally, Jonathan was cringing at what unfolded, the emotions that stabbed at his heart. The stare off commenced, but Jackson knew Jonathan wouldn’t flinch even if something was thrown in his direction. Quickly, Jackson caved in to his younger brother and rested his hand on his shoulder. Initially, Jonathan flinched, his narrow blue eyes quickly shot back and forward like a ping pong ball.

“I have brought you a gift. Something to repay our overdue broken relationship. An apology gift, to redeem me for my poor behavior in the past” Jackson revealed, a soft innocent smile on his lips.

Finally, Jonathan smiled at his brother. A smile that made him wonder how interesting it could be. The ideas were sprouting in his mind like seeds buried deep in the dirt. Gifts were never conventional on their behalf. The last item they’d expect was a new shirt or pair of shoes. They always enjoyed the taboo things in life.

Jonathan needed a nuisance of a classmate to shut up? They'd fall down a flight of stairs shortly after. Jackson wanted to woo over a bird? They’d happen to literally go running into Jackson’s arms after they were being chased by a masked figure on a late night.

After he made the assumption that Jackson had literally been following his footsteps for years, he hoped that he had gotten rid of some dogs sniffing at his work. Maybe a couple of supplies that could massively improve his research.

“I’m intrigued” Jonathan replied, his eyes roaming over Jackson for any obvious hiding spot.

“Great! Firstly I need to move my car into your garage” Jackson explained as he waltzed off to the front door, dangling his car keys in his hand dramatically.

“Why?” Jonathan inquired, trailing behind him.

“For legal matters” Jakson said over his shoulder.

Jonathan stopped in his footsteps.

“Jackson” Jonathan warned, but the fire of adrenaline and excitement couldn’t help but to blaze.

“No, trust me! You’re going to love her” Jackson said excitedly, almost skipping out of the front door into the pouring downfall.

“Her?” Jonathan almost choked.

After eventually convincing Jonathan to open the garage door, Jackson rolled into the garage, Jonathan’s arms crossed over as the garage door slowly but loudly crept down, his heart pounding in his chest. Jackson almost tripped over to his boot since he was that excited. The boot clicked and raised open. As Jackson looked into his boot, his face lit up with pure joy. Jonathan’s head leant over in curiosity, his feet unknowingly shuffled forward as all he could analyze was Jackson’s expressions.

Jackson spoke quietly and wagged his finger into his boot. It was all out of Jonathan’s hearing range and he could feel the anticipation rise. Jackson turned his attention back to his brother and gestured for him to come over.

“I take it you never went into finance” Jonathan sighed as stood before the boot, staring directly into it with an intrigued look.

“Yeah, I decided to recruit myself into the army shortly after you disappeared, then a great opportunity came up for me” Jackson explained calmly with a gentle nod.

There you were, crammed in the boot. Strained eyes completely wide as you bounced from one brother to the other. The twins stared at you with pure fascination. Jackson rubbed his fingers over his lower lip whilst Jonathan caressed his chin, dissecting every single spec of your appearance. You were only wearing a matching set of red lingerie, Jackson’s favorite. Completed with a black ball gag latched in your mouth. You trembled like an abandoned puppy with your wrists and ankles bound together. A fresh set of tears trailed down your recent tear stained cheeks.

“Dare I ask what you do?” Jonathan asked emotionlessly.

“Let’s just say, people ask me for favors and I deliver. But hey, I was promoted to manager recently” Jackson gloated, his eyes ran over the goosebumps on your skin.

“Who is she?” Jonathan inquired, but his tone lacked care.

“Some rich fucker’s daughter. They wanted me to use her as ransom, then dispose of her afterwards. But she was such a good girl for me! My heart fought against it” Jackson exclaimed, a gleeful smile on his lips as the back of his hand moved your hair behind your ear.

“How human of you” Jonathan snorted.

“I can’t keep her. I travel too much. I wouldn’t be able to look after her the way she needs to be. But fuck, I’d regret… Disposing of her. She’s been my best fuck y’know? It’d be too much effort to hire someone to watch over her, not that I would even trust anyone” Jackson explained through a frustrated tone.

That was the last thing he needed, to be your full time carer. It was typical for Jackson to pass off his broken toys to Jonathan. No, Jonathan had a perfect life, one that had no desires for authentications.

“So this is a babysitting gig?” Jonathan scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Jackson.

“No, this is me making it up to you. She’s my favorite girl, so I’m giving her to you completely, well almost anyways. Call us even now” Jackson nodded, proud and satisfied with his offering.

Jackson was never marriage material, eventually he’d grow bored of you and throw you into the trash. But he knew that you deserved better, you needed to be looked after by someone that cares. Jonathan on the other hand, had that twisted obsessive nature that just screamed for someone to fulfill his personal needs. Despite how often he fought it and blocked it out, he needed companionship, somebody to hold onto in the middle of the night to keep his own nightmares at bay. Jackson already figured it out, you’d be his anchor.

“Jackson- That’s not calling it even… You’ve already soiled her” Jonathan argued as he pressed his fingers to his forehead, Jackson snorted at his precise choice of words.

“Oh come on! I’ve already planned it all out. Do whatever you want with her! I don’t mind! It really works for your benefit… She can be a little experiment for you. All I ask if that you don’t fuck her mind up too dramatically, I still want to drop by every now and again to see her” Jackson fought back, his similar blue eyes darting from his twin back to you, unable to keep his tongue away from licking his lips. Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at Jackson. The other twin laughed softly at his face of suspicion and confusion. “I know what you do at Arkham Johnny. It’s some fucked up shit. I didn’t realize our childhood was that bad” Jackson joked.

“My work is for the greater good” Jonathan hissed, jaw locked.

“Show me the mask and let me be the judge of that” Jackson patted his shoulder harshly.

“Only if you induce some of my toxin” Jonathan shot back, a dirty glare locked in.

“Hard pass” Jackson chuckled.

Both of them simultaneously turned their heads back onto you, you were shaking like a tree caught in the wind, tears dripped down your flushed cheeks. Jackson felt his arousal spark to his lower region, he always loved seeing how helpless and dependent you were.

“I don’t want her” Jonathan shook his head.

Jackson’s proposition was impractical, Jonathan would have to watch you constantly. He was far too deep into his work to crawl his way back out, Jackson would just have to figure something else out for you.

“Now! I know you always preferred bad girls. But this innocent sweet little thing really hits the spot, trust me” Jackson persuaded as he ran his hands up your cold curves.

No, Jonathan couldn’t keep you full time. It was too much effort, you’d be distracting, irritating and costly. Not to mention, knowing that this was just an easy way out for Jackson made him fight against it. He had been over helping his brother for a long time, he was not going to walk back down that track.

“My answer remains the same” Jonathan firmly stated, not cracking the slightest bit.

“Well, I’m sure you can get a bite out of her if you really push her” Jackson snickered.

Jonathan didn’t bite at his remark. Both blue sets of eyes watched you as you whined into your gag. The rope had cut into your flesh and the gag made your jaw ache. Jonathan wondered how long Jackson had been driving for with you confined into the boot. It was the middle of winter and the thin blanket was kicked off to the side, perhaps during a panic attack throughout the drive.

No, stop wondering about you.

The curiosity was loose on its lead. Jonathan needed to shut down the vast of ideas. But you were just so gratifying to the eye. Especially in all of that (or should he say little?) red. No, he had too many experiments already. Usually he would say the more the merrier, but he knew you’d be time consuming.

“Take her and leave” Jonathan reminded him as he turned his head away from you.

Jonathan’s throat tightened, he swore he could feel a ball of sweat drip down. But Jackson only gave him a cocky look and pulsed his lips.

“Have a taste of her first, then tell me that” Jackson chuckled, leaning closely to his brother.

“No, I must decline” Jonathan waved his hands in dismissal.

“Come on, look at her!” Jackson objected, pointing his hands at you. Quickly, Jackson wrapped his arm around Jonathan’s shoulders. “When was the last time you got laid Jonathan?” Jackson whispered, out of your hearing range, a wicked grin on his lips. A beat. Jackson twisted his head and looked Jonathan in the eyes. “Johnny? When was the last time?” Jackson repeated, sounding far more concerned this time round.

Jonathan cleared his throat and shrugged at his shoulders. “I have other greater focuses than sexual desires” Jonathan answered bluntly.

Jackson scoffed loudly and flung himself off of him as if he was contagious. “Always so technical!” Jackson insulted harshly.

“Enough Jackson” Jonathan raised his hand.

Jackson sat on the edge of the boot. As you were silently sobbing, his hand reached back to comfort you. As you looked up to him pleadingly, he scratched your chin.

“We had so much fun in college together! Don’t tell me you did it just for your big brother” Jackson winked, already knowing the truth.

“Correct. What was your saying? What’s yours is mine. I wasn’t able to look at someone else without you catching on” Jonathan hissed, resisting not to snap out and jab his fingers on his chest.

“I just didn’t want to miss out on the fun” Jackson shrugged his mouth, twisting his shoe on the floor like a disobedient child. Jonathan blinked darkly at him. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry about… Fuck, what even was her name?” Jackson muttered as he scratched the side of his head.

Jonathan scoffed and turned his head away. Jonathan was infatuated with a fellow classmate. She was the total package in his eyes, at least his primal desires lead him to believe. She had led him on, whispered dirty fantasies in his ear for weeks. Unfortunately, Jackson eventually caught on and jumped at the opportunity. Quickly after, Jonathan walked into their dorm room with Jackson blowing at her backside whilst eagerly telling him to join in.

“Hey, since we are speaking about her… I remember seeing her on the news years ago. I’m crossing my fingers that it was just a coincidence” Jackson spoke in a low tone, but his eyes were wide with curiosity.

“She got what she deserved” Jonathan answered in a dead tone.

“Fuck, you really are crazy!” Jackson bellowed out.

Your cries increased, causing both sets of eyes to snap onto you. Jackson tutted and leant down to you, his warm hands somehow sent shivers down your skin as he caressed you. Jonathan watched with intrigue as he tried to calm you. Jackson was treating you like a lost puppy.

“Babygirl, babygirl… Calm down, I’m sorting out your new home, my little brother just loves to be a stuck up twat at times'' Jackson chuckled, his thumb rolled over your chin whilst you tried to get your crying under control.

“You need to leave” Jonathan stated sharply, his arms crossed over his chest yet again. Jackson looked over his shoulder.

“Jonathan, I hate to put it all on you. But if you can’t take her, I’ll have to kill her” he said casually.

You screamed out and Jonathan’s cock couldn’t help but to twitch in his trousers. Had he been hard this whole entire time? But Jonathan shook off those urges.

“I don’t care what you do with her. I will not be involved in your affairs again” Jonathan determined.

“Fuuuck, I’m sorry babygirl… I tried my best, I really did” Jackson sighed as he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket. You shrieked out and squirmed around frantically.

“Fuck Jackson, not here!” Jonathan hissed.

“Oh, her screams can be piercing. I can’t risk her drawing attention as I’m stuck in rush hour” Jackson explained.

He balled his fists, but reluctantly let go of all of his anger as he locked eyes with you. The fear, oh the fear on your face was a perfect performance. It was hypnotizing. Jonathan was ready to drop to his knees to beg for you completely. But he knew he could bend you in whatever way. Jackson was as smart as he was dumb. It was a foolish move to offer you to him, Jonathan would corrupt you in ways neither of you knew.

His hand rested on his shoulder as Jackson taunted the blade towards you.

“Enough” Jonathan blinked.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do Johnny?” Jackson acted dumb, a mischief grin on his lips.

Jonathan didn’t reply, his eyes glued onto yours. Your words were muffled, but it was clear as day with how desperately you were pleading for your life. There was that look again, one that Jackson almost forgot about. The seed of obsession finally sprouted in Jonathan’s eyes.

“She has lovely eyes, doesn’t she?” Jackson hummed.

“Yes, you’re correct” Jonathan replied. “Does she have a name?” he asked softly.

Jackson murmured your name and Jonathan couldn’t resist but to groan it out. Such a fitting name. But the color or size of your eyes wasn’t the reason for your beauty. It was the fear that swam like pretty fish in a pond. Jonathan reached out to touch you and you flinched, your chest shaking.

“Shh, you don’t have to be scared sweetheart. I won’t hurt you” Jonathan assured as he slowly went to touch you again.

Not yet always.

“Oh, you poor thing… You’re so cold” Jonathan pouted as his hands traveled over your thighs. “Open the door” Jonathan ordered as he reached into the boot to pick you up.

“Okay boss” Jackson grinned as he headed towards the door.

Jonathan sat you up on the sofa in the living room, followed by both of the brothers sitting at either side of you. Their similar soft blue eyes beamed into your soul, you weren’t sure which one to look at. For the familiar brother had this dark smug look on his face and the other one’s eyes were dissecting you like a pig. So you resulted in staring at a random spot in the living room, you glued your eyes onto the cream lamp, and tried to find the beauty in its design. Your shoulders caved forward, skin trembled, but thankfully Jonathan already had the heating on. It was sure that you’d warm up in no time.

“Is she resistant?” Jonathan asked, his hands trailing over your bounded hands.

The red marks on your skin were mixed of fresh and old, he wondered how often you tried to break free. Jackson’s hand slipped through your hair to your scalp, he scratched your head as he admired you.

“Timid little thing she is. She’s quite cooperative. I doubt she’d dare to look in the wrong direction with the two of us here” Jackson answered with a dark smile.

Jonathan examined your body, a soft exhale escaped his lips as his hands ran up and down your bare skin. Daringly, you locked eyes with the twin brother, his eyes softened, a smirk crept onto his lips.

“You’re so cold sweetheart. So, so cold. Couldn’t he have given you something warmer to wear?” Jonathan teased as he leant closer to you, his breath fanned at your skin. Typically, you shuddered, which he adored.

“Not my fault she kicked off her blanket” Jackson shrugged his shoulders, no empathy in sight.

Jonathan gently undid your gag. A deep inhale came from you as you rotated your tense, aching jaw. Then you looked over to your abductor.

“Ja-Jackson” you whimpered out hoarsely, your jaw stung.

Jackson was quick to move his body towards yours, his cruel arms wrapped over your shoulders as he rubbed his nose against your cheek. A hint of jealousy flashed in Jonathan’s bright blue eyes, his arms should be around you, your body should be leaning into his. You laid your head on him as you tried to stretch out your jaw. How was it that you were showing trust to your abuser? Jackson’s eyes flickered from you both, he instantly picked up on the thoughts running through Jonathan’s mind.

“It’s okay baby girl, my brother will be gentle… Maybe” Jackson chaffed as he patted your inner thigh. He leant into your ear, but didn’t bother to whisper. “Give Johnny a kiss for welcoming us into his home” he ordered.

Your lips wobbled as you examined the seriousness in his command. Submissively, you turned your head towards Jonathan. A frustrated exhale left Jonathan’s lips, he didn’t like Jackson being in control still. But at the same time he couldn’t pass on feeling the sensation of your lips combined. You suckled on his lower lip breifly. Then Jonathan deepened the kiss, his hands tugged your body onto his, Jackson chuckled knowingly. With his tongue deep in your mouth, he explored every inch of you. The way your innocent moans and whimpers would vibrate was celestial.

Jackson pressed his front against your behind. One hand rested on your hip whilst the other tangled itself into your hair. Playfully, he’d gently tug your head back, just to watch Jonathan’s expression turn more animalistic as he tried to keep your mouths combined. After a few minutes of that, Jackson abruptly pulled your head back, his head pressed against the side of your neck, Jonathan’s eyes narrowed.

“Come on baby girl, show him your gratitude and suck his cock” Jackson kindly suggested.

Jackson pushed you onto the floor, not harshly yet not kindly. With his cock begging to be set free from his trousers, Jonathan couldn’t look past that idea. Eagerly, he unbuckled his belt and welcomed his aching member. The binds made it hard for you to get comfortable on your knees, but you quickly shuffled closer to Jonathan.

He leant forward to make it easier for you, his hands slipped into your hair as he guided you down his length. Jonathan was longer, Jackson was thicker. But they both had that same smooth look. Your eyes squeezed shut with embarrassment as you tried to do good, just like Jackson taught you to. You gagged out as you finally reached the base, it was so difficult to do with your hands restrained.

Jackson praised you, his hand rubbing your shoulder as fresh tears broke free. Even though Jackson’s comments were irritating, Jonathan couldn’t help but to like how it motivated you to keep going.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re doing a terrific job” Jonathan complimented as he caressed the side of your face with the back of his hand.

“Alright, come here baby girl, it’s my turn” Jackson hummed as he slipped his hand to his belt.

A tidal wave of jealousy crashed over Jonathan suddenly. Literally fuck that, Jonathan will not be edged to watch his brother enjoy your sweet mouth. The same mouth that he had been abusing for months now. The mouth that is supposed to be a gift for him. His hands held your head towards his base.

“No, your lips will stay around my cock until I finish” Jonathan demanded calmly, your cheeks hollowed out to please him.

“Johnny” Jackson warned as his fingers tightened around his leather belt.

“You brought her here for me, did you not?” Jonathan challenged, cocking a confident brow towards him.

“So fucking greedy” Jackson muttered as he fell back onto the couch. Jonathan scoffed at his remark. His palm kneaded over his bulge, eyes fluttered with boredom of being cockblocked by his brother of all people. “Come on baby girl, show him how good I taught you to be” he coached as he noticed Jonathan’s shoulders tremble lightly.

He leant forward again, your head bobbed up and down almost mechanically. Just the way he taught you so. Then, his member slipped free from your mouth, you ran your tongue down underneath and suckled on his balls. A quick, pathetic moan slipped out of his lips. A mischief grin grew on Jackson’s lips as he observed Jonathan try to keep a composed expression and figure. Jonathan used to moan all of the time, it was cute, him trying to act all tough nowadays.

“Come on baby, pretend it’s me in your mouth” Jackson egged on, his tongue licked over his lips. Jonathan’s nostrils flared as he saw you look over to his brother.

“Don’t listen to him and look at me” Jonathan ordered harshly.

His mouth fell open, vicious growls grunted out as his hands tugged at your roots to guide your mouth back throat deep onto him. When he spurted his white thick ropes out, his hips raised and eyes rolled back. A long overdue moan echoed throughout the room. You kept your head down like a good girl indeed. Gradually, he freed you and you gasped out for air.

They both admired the way you struggled for calm breathing. The way your eyes squeezed shut, chest heaved and body trembled. Finally, Jackson undid his belt and pulled it from the loops.

“So are we going to fuck her together like old times or what?” Jackson arrogantly asked as he stood up.

Jonathan scoffed and stood up quickly, he squeezed his base to get the blood flowing again. “What makes you think I desire to go back to that trauma?” Jonathan dissed.

“Wow, time has certainly changed you” Jackson snorted. “Come on Johnny, for old times sake” he smirked, his hand resting on his shoulder.

When you coughed out, the taste of salt all over your tongue, they both looked down at you. You sat on your side, your legs curled in and arms propped in front of you to hold your tired body up. It showed all of your curves perfectly.

“Such an ideal body” Jonathan whispered, Jackson hummed in agreement. “Help me untie her” Jonathan ordered suddenly as he got onto the floor with you.

Both of the brothers’ hands trailed over your skin. The goosebumps weren’t from the coldness anymore. Gentle moans escaped your lips as Jackson squeezed those random sensitive spots on your body, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he untied your feet. Jonathan’s eyes stalked you as he untied your wrists, you gulped as you looked up to him, he nodded his head to reassure you.Your body ached completely, you brought your hand up to your mouth and wiped it clean.

“Gonna need to stretch you out completely after this” Jonathan sighed.

Jonathan lifted you up, his arms wrapped around the small of your back. Jackson came up and pressed himself up behind you. Jonathan coached you to reach up to the ceiling, praising you as you held your arms up to help relieve some of the tension in your body. Whilst Jackson kissed your neck sloppily, praising you of how good you always smell and taste.

“She’s scared of you” Jonathan pointed out.

The look in your eyes was too familiar for him to determine as anything else. Jackson chuckled at the elephant in the room.

“Yeah I mean I did steal her away, but she still likes me, don’t you baby?” Jackson murmured.

“Y-yes Jackson” you whispered, your head turning slightly back.

“She’s really shy, it'll take some time for her to talk to you” Jackson mocked smugly.

“Hold her up” Jonathan clicked his tongue.

Jonathan dropped to his knees and spread your knees apart. A shudder echoed through you as his slender digits traced over your inner thighs. Teasingly, he slowly pulled your thong off and planted gentle kisses on your calves. Then his fingers brushed over your glistering bare cunt. He could only assume that Jackson waxed you regularly, he hated hair down there. But all of the drip that trickled down your legs fueled his ego. He didn’t realize someone could get so turned on by giving head. Firstly he nibbled at the skin near your entrance. Gradually, his tongue motioned over to your clit, then he took your folds in his mouth. Embarrassed, you bit onto the insides of your cheeks, your moans grumbled out of you as your hips squirmed around.

“Don’t hold back your moaning baby, let it all out” Jackson chuckled, his hand slipped underneath your bra and pinched at your hardened nipple.

Following his orders, you let up your shameful moans and flexed your hips back and forward. Jonathan grinned as he held onto the back of your thighs, his tongue deep in your warmth. You tasted like a golden apple, his tongue flicked over to every spongy spot it could reach. Your head fell back on Jackson’s shoulders as you felt your orgasm grow within your heated skin. His fingers rolled over your nipple as Jonathan rubbed his nose against your clit. A sudden hypnotic moan erupted in the room as you entered your state of pure bliss. You could have sworn that you saw stars, but you always thought you saw stars these days since being in Jackson’s care.

You slumped into Jackson’s arms. Jonathan took great pleasure in cleaning up your climax. Leaving plenty of sloppy kisses on your inner thighs afterwards. With a gentle tug to his newly formed erection, he looked up to your beauty.

“Thank you Jonathan” you gulped out as he rose to his feet.

Jackson smirked behind you as Jonathan smiled softly at you. Manners were always a requirement for him, he’s taught you so well…

“Anytime sweetheart” Jonathan winked.

“You want to fuck her pussy first or what?” Jackson winked back at Jonathan.

Jonathan’s sweet expression soured instantaneously.

“Her cunt is mine only” Jonathan spat with possessiveness, eyes two pitch black pools of greed.

“Jonathan” Jackson gritted his teeth. “You’re skating on thin ice, I’m not a nice guy if given blue balls” he addressed, his hold on you tightened.

“Want me to forgive you? I’m having this my way” Jonathan fought, a daring look on his face.

“Fine, just for tonight though” Jackson exhaled dramatically as his hand rolled over your lips. “Are we going to the bedroom?” Jackson teased as Jonathan pressed his front to yours again.

“You’re not stepping foot into my room” Jonathan huffed.

“Fuck my bad” Jackson rolled his eyes.

There was zero care in Jonathan’s blood as he kissed you passionately, your body pressed back up against Jackson. Your arms trembled as you hesitantly wrapped them around his neck. Swiftly, Jonathan pulled you away from his brother, his hands carefully roamed over your bare skin and gripped onto your rear.

“Okay darling, you’re gonna show me how well you can ride my cock, you okay with that?” Jonathan hummed as he guided you back to the couch.

You tried to look over to Jackson for assurance, but Jonathan pressed his fingers to your jaw, keeping your eyes on him. Jackson watched darkly behind, his arms crossed over his chest as Jonathan whispered words into your ear. Then, you were carefully unbuttoning Jonathan’s white shirt. Jackson’s nostrils flared as he started to unbutton his own. When his undershirt was pulled over his head, Jonathan fell onto the couch, making sure that you straddled his snatched waist.

He took off his glasses, but smiled as your beauty was still clear. Guiding your eager cunt above his dripping tip, you weighed your body onto his. You whined sweetly as every inch brought a new nourishing sensation to your tunnel. As you adjusted to his length, Jonathan grinned smugly at Jackson.

“Here’s what we are going to do… We’re going to show Jacky how much better I fuck you? Alright sweetheart?” Jonathan instructed optimistically.

“Oh Jonathan! Where did this confidence come from!” Jackson praised as he clapped his hands together.

Despite the heavy attempt to be cockblocked and degraded, he couldn’t help but to feel proud of Jonathan. Back in the day, Jonathan practically sat in the corner waiting for his turn. He’d be so shy, timid, awkward with a girl. Jackson really had to coach Jonathan on what to do, and how not to finish so damn fast.

Jonathan ignored Jackson and motioned his hips up and down, the pace increased with each thrust. As the motions picked up, your usual stiff figure seemed to be melting like candle wax. Your head was buried in the crook of Jonathan’s neck, but Jackson had a perfect view of your needy hips acting like a bitch in heat. That look in Jonathan’s eyes was nothing that Jackson had ever seen in him before.

A look of fear crossed Jackson’s face. The realization that Jonathan was going to be completely possessed by you spiked his jealousy. The idea of it felt perfect in his head, but now that it was real, Jackson feared he’d regret it the next time he’d drop by. Jonathan was going to corrupt you. Turn his good girl bad.

No, fuck that. You’d remember who you truly belong to, always.

Your legs were pushed out on the couch, cheeks spread apart, back hole on display for Jackson like a toy store at Christmas time. Finally, Jackson stripped his upper body naked and freed his eager member, soundlessly stepping towards you.

“Jackson” Jonathan growled as he pressed his tip to your back hole.

“Oh trust me, she loves anal” Jackson promised, one hand on your hip, the other on his size.

You didn’t like it, it was clear by your initial expression. Immediately your stomach tensed as you felt Jackson intruding your back tunnel. The logic inside made Jonathan want to push Jackson off of you. However, he liked how frightened you were of Jackson, and how dependent you were on him instead because of it. Even if you didn’t notice it yet, because he had already picked up on how your arms are tightened around his neck and face inched closer to his. Likewise to what Jackson said, it works to his benefit.

“You’ll be okay sweetheart, just look at me okay?” Jonathan reassured.

You were crying intensely, but Jonathan couldn’t help but to get turned on even more by it. Luckily for you, Jonathan wasn’t a massive fan of anal either. So you’d never have to worry around him. Jackson’s thrusts were forceful, his lower lip in between his teeth as he took out the frustration Jonathan forced on him. Even though you hated having your backside abused, your puckered hole always seemed to wrap around his cock perfectly.

“Such a good girl, you’re doing a terrific job sweetheart” Jonathan continued on, his hips rotated in circles.

“Yeah, taking two fucking cocks. That's my good little whore” Jackson huffed as he slapped your rear.

“Jo- Ja-” you panted, not knowing who’s name to moan.

“Say it, say my name” Jonathan urged, his damp fingers pressed against your clit.

“Jonathan” you whined pathetically.

Jonathan smiled wickedly and hummed his praise. Earning a dirty look from Jackson. Jackson’s hand looped your hair as he pulled you back. He snarled by your ear, his nostrils flaring like a beast.

“Jackson!” you panted, earning a satisfied grin from him.

“Still my good girl?” Jackson whispered, out of Jonathan’s range.

“Yes!” you promised instantly.

“Good girl” Jackson grumbled before he pressed his lips to your heated cheek.

He stayed over your back, giving you sloppy kisses left, right and center. It wasn’t common for Jackson to kiss you, only mainly during aftercare. But this urge inside of him demanded to show his brother who’s property you really were at the end of the day.

“Doesn’t her pussy just feel like paradise Jonathan?” Jackson smirked, their cocks slowly disappearing and reappearing out of you.

“It does” he agreed gleefully.

“Understand why I said best fuck now?” he asked confidently.

“Certainly” Jonathan moaned as you clenched around him.

No one was sure if it was a competition as to who would finish first or last. Jonathan brushed your cervix repetitively, you moaned out in awe, a wide smile on your lips as your hips rocked faster and faster. Jackson hardly had to move his hips, you were that energetic. Both of them soon worried if they would be able to keep up with you.

“Fuck baby girl, I’m close… Are you?” Jackson exhaled, his hands squeezed your cheeks.

“She is” Jonathan chimed in, the corners of his lips wide apart. “I can feel her squeezing me for dear life” he pointed out.

“Fuck Jonathan!” you suddenly screamed, a beautiful piece of art of pain and pleasure on your face.

“That feels perfect doesn’t it?” Jonathan teased, his fingers caressed your cheeks.

Jackson was gobsmacked. Where did Jonathan learn to talk like this, him, obviously. But it was almost like looking into his reflection, Jonathan had stepped out of his shell and broke it to pieces. Not to mention his dick game seemed to be evolved into a unknown creature.

“Ughh! So good Jonathan! So-so” you stammered.

Your vision turned blurry as you felt your second orgasm climb higher than it ever has before. Never had Jackson heard you so vocal. Yes he could turn you into a moaning mess, but rarely would he get proper words out of you. You were just always so timid around Jackson. Somehow Jonathan has already gotten under your skin and Jackson found himself pumping his cock into you the way he knew it would make you scream.

Jackson had always treated you like a shiny obnoxiously big trophy. He wanted to show off how he always had the best in the world. But Jonathan treated you like a priceless artifact, almost worshiping you even though you were supposed to be at his feet. It was known that he was studying you right now, figuring you out completely as you turned into a complete slut for them. Both of the brothers suffered from hubris traits. One of them may end up dying for you one day.

You came first, Jackson thought that he’d melt into goo with how your entire body tensed. They both had to hold onto you as your body shook with massive vibrations. Your head dropped forward, Jonathan kissed you passionately as he pumped his tip against your sensitive walls. The sound of your moans were so angelic, they could listen to you for hours.

Then followed Jonathan, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. His hold on you tightened as his cock completely disappeared inside of you. As your canal was marked in his white ropes, Jonathan gave you a tender kiss as he shuddered. Proudly, Jackson came last, filling your back tunnel full of his cum. It was always a sight to see his seed drip out of your holes. Somewhat instinctively, you pushed your body back up against Jackson. It took all of your strength, but Jackson held onto you and kissed you sensually. With his hands massaging your posterior, he let you go back to lay on Jonathan. All of you were covered in hot sweat, but only you and Jonathan were out of breath.

“Oh, how I’m going to miss you babygirl” Jackson murmured to himself as he fixed his trousers back to normal.

The two of you were latched as one, your eyes closed as Jonathan’s hands traced over your upper arms. With your head buried back in the crook of his neck, Jackson chuckled as he slipped on his undershirt.

“Yeah, she loves to be held afterwards. She’ll quickly fall asleep in your arms if you don’t let go” he explained arrogantly, beginning to button up his dress shirt.

“You can leave now Jackson” Jonathan exhaled, his nose twitched.

“Oh come on, I won’t say goodbye to her that easily. I have to stay at least a couple of days, my flight isn’t until next week so no point in trying to get rid of me” Jackson laughed softly.

He needed the next few days to ensure you remember whose feet you’ll always kneel before. The challenge would be fun. But Jackson couldn’t help but to bloom as the nostalgic sensation, he missed Jonathan. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“How about I go get us all some takeaway and you two can get to know each other better in the meantime?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow. It was always a yes in his opinion if Jonathan remained silent. He picked up his jacket and waltzed towards the front entrance. “Still like Japanese!” Jackson called out before slamming the door shut.

Your head popped up at the sound, you gulped, your mouth dry and reality weighing heavily on you. His soft blue eyes returned to their dark state. As your figure turned stiff, Jonathan smirked at the mellow fearful look in your eyes.

“Fuck sweetheart, I just might need to call in sick for work tomorrow” he admitted.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #dark smut #cillian murphy kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #jonathan crane dark #jonathan crane x you #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #red eye 2005 #batman begins

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unkn0wng1rly · 1 month ago

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satoru gojo

cw: hubby!satoru x wifey!reader, jealous toru, protective, random ahh story

your husband is a bit dramatic

it was a common fact you’d come to terms with when you’d started dating him. part of you had grown to love it.

he was so quick to coming to the worst conclusions in the world, it was honestly amusing to see the ideas he had whirling in that brilliant head of his.

you had needed to go grocery shopping since the house was getting a little empty from necessities and a few extras.

satoru had of course come with you, ever since you two had gotten married his favourite thing was to go out in public with you, showing you off as his.

it was kinda cute how excited he got, how he was ready to tell anybody who’d listen to him that you were the best creation that god had ever made.

you’d found your way to the cleaning isle, spending a bit of time on the anti bacterial sprays, looking for one with that specific coconut scent you loved.

as you were looking around, the sight of sprays reminded you of something that you’d forgotten.

turning your head, you looked at your husband who was standing right next to you, towering over your not so large frame. his snow white hair tousled in that messy way he knows you love, his undercut peeking out.

“babe, can you go get me that cooking oil spray? i forgot it when we went to get eggs.” you asked, he pouted a little, not cause he didn’t wanna help you but cause he didn’t want to leave your side.

your head tilts a little bit, eyebrows raising and he immediately responds. “the garlic one right?” satoru is admittedly quite scared of you.

sure he was the strongest, he knew that.

but you made him forget he had the powers of a divine being, all it took was a stare and he was keeling, obeying your every word.

he’d never seen you get fully angry and he preferred to keep it that way, though it secretly turned him on whenever you gave him ‘the look’.

“mhm..” you hum, looking him up and down as he grins sheepishly, turning around and disappearing down the isle.

you continue browsing the different cleaning sprays, trying to find the specific one you wanted, tip toeing slightly to pushing ones out of the way.

finally your eyes lock on the spray that was hiding behind all the other ones, you’re about to tiptoe again when someone speaks behind you.

“s’cuse me miss.”

you turn, seeing that a young boy who seemed about half your age was standing there.

his face flushed immediately as you looked at him, you sort of had that effect.

“oh wow..” he muttered lowly under his breath, you weren’t able to hear him properly so you move a bit, a confused look on your face.

the boy clears his throat, shaking his head. “do you know where i could find this exact product, my sister sent me but i can’t find it.”

looking down at his phone, you focus on the image which was a box of tampons, specifically the compak version for a regular flow.

you looked at him again, smiling softly. you felt sympathy for him, he seemed embarrassed and shy at the fact he had to ask for help about it, his poor face was bright red.

“of course sweetheart, come with me.” placing the basket down on the floor, you beckon him to follow you. his heart nearly burst at the pet name you gave him so casually.

you’d turned your head to walk towards the toiletries isle when you bumped into a wall, a human wall more like.

a hand wrapped around your lower back and you knew who it was by the touch alone, the slight panic disappearing as you looked up into your husbands icy blue eyes.

“oh you’re back, i’m just gonna go show this boy where to buy some tampons for his sister.” you start and you move to shift around satoru but he keeps his hands firm on your body.

“does she look like a store assistant to you?”

there was a silence and you close your eyes, you should’ve expected this.

“toru,” you try say to him but for this one rare occurrence in time, he’s not focused on you. his eyes glaring holes into the little boy who’s colour had just drained from his face.

“uh—n-no i was j—”

“don’t you see the ring on her finger? actually excuse me, that’s a stupid question, there’s no way you missed it.”

instinctively your eyes flicker to the boulder of a gemstone that lay atop the silver band. when he figured out what your favourite type of ring was he made sure to buy the biggest size possible.

he went above and beyond for his queen.

the boy stammered, caught like a deer in headlights. all he wanted to do now was leave, satoru was scaring him.

“i se—see it.”

“so why are you bothering my wife,” as much as you were annoyed at him for causing a scene, you did crack a little smile.

he was so shameless that you couldn’t help but to grin at antics.

when the young boy didn’t say anything satoru continued, the hand on the small of your back growing increasingly more rough but it wasn’t directed at you.

“i’d suggest you wander off then, go ask someone who actually works here, i’m sure they’d be more than happy to help you.” he forced an attempt of a smile which just appears to be a sneer, the boy quivering as he looked pale in comparison to the red he was a few seconds ago.

he scrambled away, curving at the next isle to run out of sight, leaving you and satoru standing next to the bleaches.

a sigh leaves you, moving away from satoru as you tut softly. “you know you didn’t need to do all that, he just wanted help.”

satoru’s sour mood leaked away as he caught up to you.

“didn’t you see how red he was? he was clearly into you.” he sounded exasperated, casually reaching up and grabbing the coconut spray you wanted a few shelves over, dumping it into the basket in the crook of your arms.

you laughed richly, walking along the sponges and dish soaps, grabbing a few dishwasher tablets and cleaning sponges.

“he was about half my age babe, he was not putting a move on me.” the idea was ridiculous to you, but to satoru it was even more ridiculous that you didn’t believe him.

“do you think that just suddenly makes you unattractive to him?”

scoffing, you move along the isles to candles and fragrances, picking some up and smelling them without much purpose.

you and satoru bickered half heartedly about this the whole way home, up until you’d finished packing away things in the kitchen, hands on your hips as he stands in front of you.

“are you fine with him finding you hot then?”

satoru looked like a toddler who’d been told off, mumbling and frowning at you like it was your fault for being so pretty.

your eyebrows raised in a slightly incredulous manner. “i’m not, but it’s not like i can stop him,”

“maybe i ought to keep you hidden away here, then nobody can try hit on you.” he pouted.

his lean arms brought you into a tight hug, like you’d planned to leave him and never come back.

he was so warm, usually so cold to everyone else but he was like a massive teddy bear to you. satoru’s eyes were shut as he inhaled the scent of you, which was just mixed with his own natural scent.

you smelt like him in your own way and he loved it, knowing that you were so completely his and he was hopelessly yours.

“you would love that wouldn’t you.” your hands came to finger with the gentle waves on his hair, compliant and soft between your fingers.

“just me and my wife alone? sounds like heaven come early.”

#jjk #this is so dead #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #husband #hubby gojo #anime #idk what else to tag #have this #i don’t want it #i wrote this in about 7 minutes #sorry it’s rushed #idc #it’s bad #ez #gojo x reader #jukutsu kaisen

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jesswritesthat · 7 months ago

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Bakugō Katsuki: Engineer

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.5k, fluff, a little violence.

• Being a talented inventor meant your skills were sought by many (both good and bad), but then you catch the attention of Dynamight.

Warnings: Cursing, violence, mention of weapons, post time skip.

>>>>——————————>

"You can't be serious Bakugō-san."

The pro snapped to his trusty assistant, raising an expectant brow when replying like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You said they're the best. That's who I want for my agency."

"Yes but—"

"But nothing! Do you know where I can find them?"

"Everyone who has tried has been refused. Their infamous talent has been sought by heroes, big companies, and even villainous characters... All of whom failed to hire them."

"’Cause I haven't asked yet."

"Bakugō-san, I know there's no convincing you otherwise but, I'd recommend having other options available at least."

True to his assistants' warnings, you were no easy recruit, all his efforts at communication were futile. Emails? Calls? Letters? You hadn't replied to any of his professional outreach methods and he suspected this was a common occurrence for you.

Fine then, he'd turn up the heat. Your workshop address wasn't a secret to those with connections and Bakugō wasn't one to give up without a fight. Literally, if need be.

———

It was a perplexing thing in the middle of nowhere, your workshop. A metal-like building heavily lined with obscure defensive weaponry as well as having access to your own personal scrapyard it seemed. But it was yours. A rumoured mechanical talent for crafting hero gear and inventions, one that drew attention from far and wide. However you were content in your independence, it was less hassle this way you'd hoped.

Alas, the confident banging on the metal entrance doors with conviction was far from unusual.

"I told ya, I don't—" You paused once sliding open the door and taking a look at your visitor, lifting your goggles and shifting to a smile. "Haven't seen you at my door before."

"Since ya didn't answer my calls or mail, I don't have a choice." The man seethed through gritted teeth, trying to be more 'accommodating' like advised.

"Oh? Which one are you again?" Your gaze flicked to a pile of (some charred) letters in a nearby bin, smile growing more smug by the second.

"Bakugō Katsuki. You might know me as Dynamight though."

"Yeah you're fun. I like you." You smirked proudly, honesty and bemusement present. "The way you yell at people resonates with me."

The man rolled his eyes with scoffing sound, choosing not to say anything rambunctious enough to have you slam the door in his face - still, he was surprised when you welcomed him in.

"Tch. S'pose you know why I'm here then."

"You, and many others. Had Lemillion here last month, least he bought me a welcome basket with cake and such." You joked, easing the caution the blonde seemed to be upholding around you with his natural personality showing.

"Tch, ain't gonna get you none of that crap unless you start working with me. I did bring something useful though because I'm better than the other extras you've dealt with." He held out a bag, one you quizzically explored to find a peculiar item to win one over with.

"A spanner...?"

It wasn't just a spanner, it was one of the newest, top of the grade, multi tool sets crafted by one of the big brands. Thoughtful. Very thoughtful actually...

"I appreciate it, but I can't accept something this expensive. Especially when I'm going to decline your offer."

"S'fine. It's a gift, but if you feel that guilty about it then you can fix my gauntlets." Bakugō justified rather abruptly, shoving the bag into your arms to ensure you took it.

"Alright. That sounds fair."

"I'll grab 'em from my car, get your shit ready."

That afternoon, you sat beside Katsuki as he talked you through the technicalities of his weaponry whilst you worked on them together. All the while diverting onto conversation tangents and making drinks mid way, he demonstrated his quirk - tiny sparkles of explosive lighting up his hand.

"They're pretty, your explosions."

"They’re deadly— I don't— shut up nerd!" He dismissed you briskly, turning away with an irritated growl.

———

Fixing his gear would be the first and last time you'd see Bakugō in person you assumed, considering you declined his job proposition and all.

So when you received another bout of rapid banging on metal the following week, you were surprised to find a smirking Dynamight rather than another recruiter.

"Shocked to see me or something?"

"Well I— yeah. Figured you'd take my refusal and go."

"Nah you did a good job with my gauntlets, wanted to see what else you're up to." Dynamight flexed his wrist for example, openly pleased with his gauntlets but seemed more so by your genuine reaction.

"Oh really?" You sounded truly perplexed, but also excited to share your work with someone. "Sure, I'll show you my latest ideas!"

Bakugō stayed a while, a couple of hours discussing applications for your inventions and inquiring as to whether there were any materials you were unable to obtain recently. Then it moved on to his occupation, his agency, and then to trivial matters such as popular restaurants around town.

“So, wanna join my agency yet?” The blonde threw over his shoulder on his way out of the door.

“No Dynamight, but thank you for asking and visiting.”

“Fine nerd. I’ll be back then.”

Now you didn’t believe that for a second when he slammed the door behind him, and you felt like he’d only asked for the sake of it - fully expecting you to say no. However, if he did decide to visit again, you wouldn’t be mad about it you concluded.

———

Unfortunately, your next set of individuals weren’t so welcomed. You’d seen them multiple times previously, each visit coming with its increase of pressure to work exclusively for them. A dealer who specialised in exporting weaponry to villains on the black market, they had both the money and power to pose either a threat or a reward. Except, your constant refusals had only fuelled their growing impatience which led them crashing down your door tonight with violence in their wake.

"C'mon (L/n), I came here personally just to hire you. We'll certainly pay you well enough~" The dealer slammed you into the wall, digits digging so deeply into your neck you barely managed a disgruntled wretch.

"I'll neve— ever work— for you assholes!"

"Too bad, the consequence for that is death y’know." You were slung across the floor, a gasp for breath futile when he aimed his pistol at your heart. "Want to reconsider yet?"

"Fuck you."

The gun safety clicked off, one of the henchman's quirks keeping you painfully immobile. If these were your final moments you were furious you hadn't completed your latest invention, maybe a little irritated you hadn't hit the code red before you were taken over by a damn quirk. You avoided pledging alliances to avoid this bullshit! You didn't work for any competitors, you weren't in the line of fire for sharing information, but now you can't even refuse work without getting caught in a crime web?! Society and talent is a sh—

Then an ear splitting bang echoed in the facility, dust clouds and debris forcing through the room like a tidal wave, leaving two intruders knocked out and the remainder covering their faces and yelling confused curses. That's when you saw sparks of light, a familiar explosion you had the privilege of seeing in person only once before.

He came back.

"That's why they call me Great Explosion Murder God!" He grinned menacingly, teeth bared like a predator with a dangerous glint in those crimson eyes. Sparks and smoke danced around him, the hero lowering both his stance and voice when he spoke what sounded like a protective threat.

"Now get away from my agency's' new engineer."

Oddly you felt butterflies in your stomach, but you'd narrowed that down to the whole situation being an absolute bombshell. You watched as Dynamight immobilised them effortlessly, the quirk being lifted allowing you to utilise your inventions - mechanised laser snipers pointed at the foreheads of your unwanted company, all programmed to fire with a snap of your fingers.

"Couldn't have done that sooner nerd?" The hero shot back to you tauntingly, but you didn’t miss how his gaze flared up at the sight of bruising on your neck when he’d scanned you for injury.

"Then you'd be out of a job, hero."

It took no longer than ten minutes for the authorities to arrive, during that time Dynamight had retrieved any information he’d wanted. As well as issuing basic first aid to you contrastingly softly in comparison to the deathly interrogation the dealer experienced.

You’d be taken to hospital for a check of course, (Bakugō personally walking you to your escort since he couldn’t drive you himself right now) but before you bid farewell you had a burning question.

"When can I start?"

"Hah?" Came his classic recall, snapping to you with a look of angry curiosity.

"You called me your engineer, I was wondering when that begins." Your voice was quieter now, but upon realising Katsuki seemed a little embarrassed with hand rubbing his neck and honest answer spilled.

"It's your choice, but I figured saying that would get others off your back when word gets around. You'd be left in peace for a while to continue your work."

"And if I want to work with you, when would you want me at the agency?

"All the time." Just as quickly as he spoke, he realised his lack of hesitance, awkwardly huffing and rephrasing all in one. "I'll send over a contract, you can move stuff into the lab if you like the terms."

"Then I look forward to working with you, boss." Gladly, you held out your hand to him, pleased smirk plastered on your features.

"Call me Katsuki." He shook your hand, victorious grin in play. "And the pleasure’s all mine."

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