#think i need a devil to help me get things right

[llflorence]

Can I convince you to fall for me?

Sequel to Did you just -- kiss me? (Human AU, RatedE)

Inspired by this art by @gahellhimself-blog

“Oh, pshh!” Maggie says as she begins her second mimosa. The fine lines around her mouth have cracked as the face mask dries. “He’s not going to judge your sexual prowess on a little chipped tooth.”

Aziraphale glances around at the stylists. They’re all watching where he and Maggie sit, side by side in the massage chairs with their feet in roiling tubs of hot, soapy water. He just knows he’s being judged.

“It’s not so little anymore,” he complains, quiet enough so only they two can hear. “If you hadn’t talked me into eating that toffee —“

Maggie’s natural falsetto voice gets even higher as she lifts the bottom of Aziraphale’s flute toward his face. “Puh-lease. It’s hardly noticeable. It’s like the dimples on your ass, or the ski-jump nose.”

Aziraphale pushes her hand away and immediately takes offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

She laughs. The ladies in the chairs to their right look disapprovingly down long noses. “I only meant that it’s cute!”

Before Aziraphale can protest, Maggie downs the rest of her drink. She leans over, conspiratorially like. “It’s not like he’s going to know you can’t afford the dentist because you have no insurance and can barely make rent without help from your mother. Unless, of course, you tell him.”

Maggie is the nicest, kindest, most generous person Aziraphale knows, which is why she’s his best friend. Still, alcohol does tend to make her brutally honest.

She pats his hand and lifts the glass back to his mouth. If this wasn’t their annual pampering girls' day, he’d have refused. As it is, it’s New Year's Eve morning, and he’s way out of sorts. Maybe she has the right idea.

He finishes the mimosa in two gulps and forces himself to withstand the bittersweet fizzing in his nose and on his tongue. If he’d listened to Muriel and postponed this date until after the holidays, he wouldn’t be so miserable.

Well. He’d be less miserable.

Aziraphale lets Maggie pour him another glass from the chilled carafe in the cooler by her side. By the way things are going, he’s going to need it to make it through her advice for this evening.

“Now. You’ve already hired the Uber, right?” Her pretty, plump cheeks are quite pink.

“Yes,” he sighs. “But I can’t even pay for this spa treatment. I don’t know how I’m going to pay down the credit cards —“

“Think of it this way,” she interrupts, swirling her glass and staring off into the distance. The windows are dripping with condensation, obscuring the view of the street. “If you drive Ruby, you’ll be obligated to go take her home, won’t you? This way your handsome devil will have to drive you to his place.”

Aziraphale hasn’t told her about the text messages. He’s certain that Anthony has it in the stars to bring Aziraphale home. The man just doesn’t know what to expect.

(He thinks of Ruby where she’s parked on the street outside his apartment. Two-hundred-and-forty-thousand miles and the Subaru hasn’t failed him yet.)

“Yeah,” he grumps. “And when we get there and I drop my trousers, and all I have to offer is soft-serve ice cream —“

Maggie laughs again. A good-sized splash of orange juice and champagne spills on her sweater. “At our age, that’s the least of our worries!”

Aziraphale is pretty sure she’s never had to deal with a limp dick her entire life.

“This coming from a fifty-one-year-old lesbian whose pleasure button is on the outside .”

This time, the whole row of massage chair inhabitants turns to look at them, from both sides. Aziraphale quickly hides his face in his drink.

Maggie, however, doesn’t get the hint. Her volume is way past annoying, heading for indecent. “Maybe you fifty-one-and-a-half-year-old gays should try using your fingers. Or, better yet, your mouth .”

Mimosa sprays all over Aziraphale’s lap, soiling his clean pants and dribbling down his chin. At least he hasn’t choked this time.

Felicia, his stylist, brings him a towel. There’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “About ten minutes left on the timer. You two need anything?”

Maggie needs nothing, of course. “But Aziraphale is going to need his chest waxed. I’m paying.”

“Aziraphale most certainly does not need his chest waxed!” he says, horrified. Felicia shares a wink with Maggie, and he groans at their sudden partnership.

“Come on!” Maggie pleads. She swishes her feet in the bath and bats her long eyelashes. “Don’t you think you shouldn’t leave anything to chance? Second time around and all?”

His stylist’s eyebrows rise as she lifts and checks under his mud mask. “Got a date, have we?”

Aziraphale closes his eyes and wishes he were anywhere else.

“It’s so romantic,” Maggie coos, and he knows she’s about to tell the whole tale. He inhales deeply and beats her to it.

“A friend of mine and I reconnected after fifteen years. I’m attending as his guest at a New Year’s Eve party tonight.”

Felicia knows Aziraphale almost as well as Maggie, seeing as he subscribes to therapy via hair and skin care. She eyes him head to foot and runs her tongue along the inside of her mouth. “Keep the hairy chest,” she nods. “Run some of that conditioner I gave you last time through it. You’ll thank me. So will he.”

Aziraphale takes her advice as he stands in the shower under what can only be called a ‘stream.’ It’s more like a slow drizzle; he’s called the landlord three times about the clogged shower head. And the busted lightbulb inside the fridge. And the window that’s stuck open in the kitchen. It’s getting to the point where he’s just going to fix things himself. That is, if he knew how.

He waits as long as he can, until goosebumps form on his arms and he’s procrastinated enough. He’s about as clean as he can be, and he’s done everything possible to make himself presentable. Nothing he can do about the tooth, of course.

Aziraphale shaves and dresses and paces in the kitchen as he waits for his ride. The new cufflinks from Muriel look out of place with his not-so-new shirt and suit coat. But at least he’s not wearing something rented; he could never live with himself if he did that.

He smooths out his tie and glances at the phone lying on the kitchen counter. There have been no text messages all day from him. Aziraphale knows it’s because he’s busy. Today was the day Anthony was scheduled to finish up on that very personal business he mentioned last week. And that was none of Aziraphale’s business.

The phone lights up, vibrating as a call comes through. It’s Muriel, and he considers not answering it. They’re probably ringing with more advice. As if he’s not already horribly embarrassed about the whole thing.

“Hey, Dad,” they say, bright and cheery as usual. “Just calling to wish you good luck.”

Aziraphale tries to smile so that it will show up in his voice. “Thanks, Dear. It’s really going to be f –”

“If it’s like, really bad, remember you can call me and I’ll pick you up. Just like you always offered for me.”

It’s going to be a long, long night, he thinks.

The Uber driver sends him a text from the street, and Aziraphale says goodbye to his offspring. He collects his long wool coat, hat, and mittens, and almost forgets the scarf as he pulls the door shut. It gets stuck in the door as he climbs inside, but Aziraphale doesn’t realize it. He’s too busy trying to make his hands stop shaking long enough to send a text.

To Anthony J. Crowley.

On my way! 

It’s a short drive through the busy part of downtown. Traffic is horrendous, and Aziraphale watches the time as his ride is forced to slow down to allow revelers to cross the streets. At this rate, he’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes late. Not the first impression he wishes to make, especially if Anthony relates punctuality to sex.

Sex is all Aziraphale can think about. In a matter of days, he’s become obsessed. He worries about how he smells, how he’ll taste, whether he should eat or be eaten. It ramps him up so high that he can’t focus on everyday things, like remembering to turn the dryer on after throwing wet clothes in. Or bringing the garbage and the recycling out to the cans.

So when the car pulls up to a swanky hotel, all lit up like a Christmas tree, he’s adjusting his dick inside the new underwear he bought himself as a gift. He makes the mistake of feeling the tip for wetness, which, of course, is right there. And, god, he hopes it isn’t leaking through to make a dark spot on the front of his trousers.

He pays and thanks the driver, opening the door to find the end of his scarf coated with brown, sandy slush. It’s dripping like mad as he lifts it off the ground, as he tries to close the car door and not step in the salty, puddled mess next to the curb.

The night has already begun with a failure, as he slips on the sidewalk and loses his balance. He closes his eyes as he sees very clearly what is about to happen. He’s going to land on his ass and ruin his night.

But the fall doesn’t happen. Instead, he is rescued. He is rescued by a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man dressed in a familiar Santa cap. Gold-brown eyes twinkle down at him, and Aziraphale feels his breath catch in his throat. 

“Oh!” he manages, shocked and thrilled and a hundred other emotions all at once. Anthony has both hands firmly under Aziraphale’s elbows. And he’s smiling.

He’s smiling.

“See,” he begins, voice six shades of seductive as he steadies Aziraphale on his feet. “I thought maybe I could eventually convince you to fall for me, but this is ridiculous.”

Read on AO3

[16-puppies]

Literally all of this. I know the tumblr therian community says it’s super accepting , etc etc, and that is part of the reason why I came here… but honestly, i’ve seen more hate and discourse here than I ever have on tiktok. Maybe I was lucky, maybe I just blocked the right people from the start!! But considering a majority of the tiktok therian community appears to be children, it’s very… odd to me that a community that seems to have more adults in it is so vitriolic towards them!

Yes, there are a lot of “tiktok therians” who are less educated about therianthropy, or miseducated, but being mean about it won’t help. I think a lot of the tumblr community likes to act as “educators” when they simply aren’t cut out for it. Not in the way where they get definitions wrong, but just not realizing that education is the long game and it won’t go any faster if you’re rude about it. It’s not a bad thing to not be an educator, and I know many of us want to help, but like Paleo said, sometimes you have to just agree to disagree! They will come around eventually. Welcoming them here where they have more exposure to diverse therianthropic experiences is the best thing we can do to heal the community right now.

There is this malicious idea about these young “tiktok therians” and that they’re a group that we need to “drive out” , but I think if you look further than what may be just the jumbled wording of a young therian who is probably being relentlessly bullied and just wants acceptance from *somewhere*, and is still finding their place in the world, I see a group with a lot of potential! I’m so tired of seeing so much unhelpful criticism for what they do , especially if it’s presented in a snarky, know-it-all kind of way. It’s just not helpful in my opinion.

And, if for any reason it becomes too much, I really think people have to utilize the block button more. It’s your blog, and if you don’t want to deal with the potential wave of new accounts… block them? If they’re being disrespectful and you don’t want to deal with it… block them. I don’t understand what’s so scary about them coming here when you can just filter them out and ignore them if you’d really like, but perhaps I haven’t been here long enough. I sincerely doubt any of them would try to “tiktok-ify” tumblr though, because this platform and community isn’t really built for it. I haven’t even seen tumblr mentioned as one of the places to migrate to, so if they do come here it will be far less “catastrophic” than this community is suggesting.

I might be biased in all of this because I was technically a “tiktok therian”, but I’m really starting to dislike how many of us here act as if they’re the devil or something. It’s weird..!!

I don't want to engage in discourse, but I've seen so many posts here lately talking about "Tik Tok Therians" and worries about them migrating to Tumblr.

I'm just imagining what it's like for them. Imagine coming to Tumblr for the first time and discovering all this hate and infighting. Your main way of seeing content of others like you has been taken away from you, so you turn to Tumblr, only to find hundreds of posts making assumptions and generalizations about you. Imagine coming from Tik Tok and the first post you see on here is someone calling you annoying.

Are we really as accepting as we claim to be? Now is the time to prove it.

Yes, I would absolutely be bullied off the face of Tik Tok if I ever ended up there, but that doesn't mean I will treat them the same if they ended up here. If you're scared of Tumblr turning as toxic and hostile as Tik Tok, maybe the answer is to simply avoid being toxic and hostile.

Also, a bit of a tangent, but sometimes the best way to go about things is just agreeing to disagree with those around you. I can't even count how many times I've changed my mind about something because I saw someone with a different opinion and had a civil discussion, or did proper research about something I was misinformed on because I befriended someone new. Of course we are all entitled to opinions, and we can't always see eye to eye, but that's life.

Personally, my blog will welcome these "Tik Tok Therians" with open arms. They will see that I'm weird, but most importantly they will also see that I am one of them, I am kind, and willing to educate without hate.

[thef1diary]

Been thinking about dirtbag! Danny around the holidays. If y'all went to see your family at say a party or something, would he be the perfect little saint? Or would he be his normal self? And when you two "accidentally" get caught under the mistletoe, would he hold back, or would he ravage you right there in front of everyone?

I'm having so many thoughts

-🐍

— why would you choose dirtbag!danny as a plus one to your family’s Christmas party? Well, you thought he was the best, safest option compared to a random date you didn’t know well, he’s the closest thing to a boyfriend without the label after all. 18+ content below

Daniel was supposed to be your safest option, the perfect fake boyfriend to bring home for the holidays. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but he was charming when he wanted to be—a people-pleaser with a quick wit and a dazzling smile. Your family wouldn’t question him, and you figured he’d play along without a hitch.

But you’d made one fatal miscalculation: Daniel was a menace, a dirtbag to his core.

As far as your family knew, he was perfect—polite, helpful, even borderline sweet as he laughed at your dad’s bad jokes, helped your mom carry in trays of cookies, and even complimented your aunt’s questionable fruitcake.

But the moment he was out of their line of sight, his true colours shone through.

“You look so sweet when you pretend to behave,” he murmured, leaning in under the guise of whispering something festive. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Makes me wanna bend you over the dining table and see how fast I can ruin that innocent little act.”

Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a warning glare, but his grin only widened. His hand found your waist, fingers grazing just low enough to make your heart race, and he gave a small squeeze before stepping away, leaving you to stew in the heat he’d ignited.

Later, when no one was looking, he cornered you in the kitchen. His hands caged you in against the counter as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, just below your ear.

“Bet you’re wearing something cute under this dress,” he muttered, his voice a low, teasing rasp. “Maybe I’ll find out later. Slip my hand up your thigh while everyone’s busy singing carols. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Danny,” you hissed, pushing at his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, his grin infuriatingly cocky. “You’re the one who dragged me into this little charade. Might as well make it fun, yeah?”

He stole a quick squeeze of your ass before stepping back, leaving you flustered and furious as he returned to the living room like nothing had happened.

It wasn’t long before someone spotted the mistletoe hanging above the archway, and of course, Daniel wasted no time dragging you beneath it. “Well, well,” he drawled, his grin wicked as the room erupted into cheers and teasing whistles. “Looks like we’ve got no choice, love.”

Danny,” you hissed, your face already flushing as your cousins and parents egged you on, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Just a quick one, okay?”

He smirked, tilting his head, the devil gleaming in his eyes. “Quick? Oh, sweetheart, you wound me.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, utterly unrestrained. He kissed you like the room wasn’t full of your family, like no one else existed. His hands slid down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him, and he groaned into your mouth, deep and shameless.

Someone gasped. Someone else laughed nervously. But Daniel didn’t care. He kissed you like he wanted to leave a mark, like he needed everyone to know exactly who you belonged to.

When he finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, your head spinning, and his smug smirk was back in full force. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then, quieter, just for you: “Later, I’m gonna have you bent over your childhood bed, biting that pillow to keep quiet. Bet you’ll be thinking twice about calling me a safe option.”

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[citrus-moonlight]

Hello friends and welcome! I wanted to finally put all my fics in one place since I now have over 50K 70K published (!!!), and also because I started out posting to one blog and then moved here to use as a separate writing/personal space.

At this point it's all Ulysses Klaue all the time, baby, but I do have a couple of WIPs started for Alfred Pennyworth (and perhaps a loose outline or two for a couple of other blorbos). I hope to get to them soon, but for now my dirty napkin of a man has me in a chokehold, so here we are!

All works have an Explicit rating | 18+ only | Warnings tagged in each work/series as well as individual chapters.

And remember: Writers are little goblins for feedback, you have no idea how much we appreciate every single comment and reblog!

Bringin' Home the Rain

Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for this gorgeous header!! 💕 Please check out her graphics blog @saradika-graphics!

"Let It Wash Us Both Away" (Part One) 5 Chapters | 25.4K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | Complete!

You're no stranger to taking risks, in fact you prefer the unknown, however when you happen to cross paths with a certain black market arms dealer you find it uncharacteristically difficult to find your balance. (aka "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.")

[ Read on AO3 ]

"Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" (Part Two) 3/6 Chapters | 30.6K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | Active WIP! - Chapter 3

After the realization that you don't want your night with Klaue to be one-time thing - and as you start to understand that he doesn't either - that persistent hum of desire to seek out risk starts to feel different; enticingly unfamiliar and drawing you in a way that for the first time makes you long to relinquish control to something, or someone, outside of yourself.

[ Read on AO3 ]

"Find Me in the Air" (Part 3) Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | Future WIP!

Planned final part!

Stories in the "Bringin' Home the Rain" universe

"Woven" 3.9K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | A little bit of smutty holiday fluff! | Between chapters 3 and 4

As winter begins to settle in, the darkening days are unexpectedly brightened when you end up with the chance to spend a little more time with Ulysses Klaue.

[ Read on AO3 ]

"Close Your Eyes to See" 2.3K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | A little bit of stolen time between visits | Between chapters 3 and 4

Even when he's at the compound you don't get to spend as much time with Klaue as you both want, so you're always pleased when he has a few minutes to give you some much needed attention.

[ Read on AO3 ]

"Away" 2.0K | Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader | A short drabble based on a sweet ask by @saradika 💕 | Unspecified in the timeline, but it's somewhere in part 3!

Going on vacation with Klaue is sweet and filthy, and gives you chance to learn a little more about one another.

✨ No AO3 link yet, but I am planning on brushing this up and will post it on there, soon!

"Think I Need a Devil to Help Me Get Things Right" 4.7K | Uysses Klaue x F! Flight Attendant Reader | Complete!

After a particularly rough flight you're suddenly having anxiety for the first time in all of your years in the air, but you end up finding help in an unexpected place when an enigmatic passenger offers you a distraction.

[AO3 Link]

"Danger Starts the Sharp Incline" 4.5K | Demon!Klaue x F! Scientist Reader AU | Complete!

At your scientific organization the study of demon energy output has become no less mundane than it would at any other research facility. That is until you find yourself trapped with the demon who has recently shifted in your thoughts from an idle curiosity to a distraction.

[AO3 Link]

A list of other WIPs and ideas on the go! I have a couple more to add so I will update this one shortly as well!

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

Think I Need a Devil to Help Me Get Things Right

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F Reader/Flight attendant Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 4.7K Rating: Explicit

Summary: After a particularly rough flight you're suddenly having anxiety for the first time in all of your years in the air, buyou end up finding help in an unexpected place when an enigmatic passenger offers you a distraction.

Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, But no specific identifiers, Description of Anxiety, Panic Attack, Mild PTSD, Fear of Flying, Pet Names, PWP, One-Shot, Semi-public Sex, You Have to Be Quiet, Bathroom Sex, Mile High Club, Dirty Talk, Light Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Mirror Sex, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms

A/N: Well, this was supposed to be a quick little smutty thing that ended up getting away from me! But it was fun, and a nice exercise to work on outside of my series. And even with not being able to write at all for a good few days of it, two and half weeks for over 4.5k+ words (from scratch!) is definitely a record for me!

I have to give a shout-out to the many thots that come from the Andy Discord, and @tarrenterror for this one specifically. 😉 I hope you enjoy this little drabble that ended up turning into way more than that! 💕

Title is from "Learn To Fly" by the Foo Fighters

AO3 Link

Run and tell all of the angels This could take all night Think I need a devil to help me get things right

Yesterday’s flight from Lisbon to Johannesburg had been a long and turbulent one with a very rough landing, much rougher than you’re used to even after three years as a flight attendant. 

The storms had kept you circling in the sky waiting for a break that refused to come, and after a long-haul flight the fuel was getting low so the pilot didn’t have a choice but to land. The plane hadn’t ended up going off of the rain-slicked runway but it was damned close, and you've been on edge ever since.

Even the tedious interview with the SACA Authority wasn't annoying enough to distract you for long, and neither last night’s patchy sleep, nor the mini-bar Red Bull are helping the persistent shake in your hands, but you have a fifteen hour flight to Corfu leaving today so you get yourself moving, hoping that a shower and some food will clear your head.

It doesn’t.

You’re not able to eat very much either, but mercifully last night’s storms have cleared and takeoff into a cloudless blue sky is smooth and uneventful, although your stomach is still acting like the toast you had managed to eat was an affront to your body.

You've never been airsick and you'd really prefer not to break your streak, not least because of the razzing you’ll get if you do, so you’re grateful when the plane finally levels off so that you can find your equilibrium again, and once the “Seatbelt” sign goes dark you're grateful for the distraction as you start rolling the beverage cart down the aisle.

Working on autopilot you don’t realize how completely you’ve zoned out until fingers are closing over yours as you hand a passenger his drink, barely catching his question.

“Are you alright, love?” 

Nudged out of your daze you finally look down at the man you’re serving.

He’s wearing dark jeans with heavy boots and a black button-up, the collar open to expose black ink across his chest and collarbones, sleeves rolled up to expose more tattoos on his forearms - or forearm, rather. Your brain tries to parse why his one arm looks not-quite-right until you realize it’s a prosthesis, although it's far more realistic than any you've ever seen apart from the distinct seams running through it. 

When you finally meet his you're quickly drawn in by bright blue eyes contrasted with tanned skin and dark salt and pepper curls, and while his hair is a bit shaggy you can faintly see another tattoo arcing beneath it.

It feels like your brain is on a delay, caught off guard by a combination of the inquiry and his striking features, and after several moments of your confused stare his eyes flick to where your hands are still connected. Suddenly you’re aware that inside the calm pressure of his fingers, yours are trembling, and it clicks that he must have seen the liquid shaking in the glass when you handed it to him.

"Oh. I'm ok,” You finally respond, giving your head a quick shake. “There was just a lot of turbulence on my flight coming in yesterday, and then we almost went off the runway, so..I guess I’m still a bit shaky, that's all.” 

You’re surprised that you answer him honestly but something about the way that he focuses on you, his eyes sharply observant, has you dropping the professional guard that you normally keep airtight with passengers. 

“Ah, that was you,” he says, finally releasing your hand and taking the proffered glass. “I heard about that. And you’re still back on a plane, today? That’s impressive.” 

His words are earnest as he tips his drink at you, and you find yourself fighting the flush that warms your skin at his praise.

“Well, it is my job," you reply, trying to keep your shrug nonchalant. "But thank you for your concern, sir.” Trying to brush off the brief flash in his eyes you work to settle your polite customer service mask back into place.

“Well, it sounds like you can handle it. But if you need a distraction,” the man takes a sip of his drink, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial timbre, “I might be able to help with that.” 

Meeting his eyes with a start you definitely see a dark glint in them now, the casual certainty in his tone that making it difficult to mistake his meaning.

It’s not the first time you’ve been propositioned - in fact it’s pretty par for the course in this world - and normally your reply would be quick and trite, saccharin words shutting down the standard attempts at flirting with a captive audience that you’re used to dealing with. But the teasing lilt of his words and the way the colour of his eyes deepens as they flick over your body sends an unexpected thrum of heat between your legs.

You're still trying to work out a reply when an annoyed voice cuts through the tension.

“Uh, miss? Maybe someone else could get a drink over here, today?"

“Of course. I’ll be right there,” you reply quickly, plastering an apologetic smile on your face, unsure whether you feel relieved or frustrated by the interruption. 

Relieved, you tell yourself. You're relieved. 

You manage not to look at the man again while you finish serving the rest of the food and drinks, but on your way back up the aisle when you finally allow yourself a glance as you pass his seat he calmly meets your eyes, making no attempt to hide that he was watching you.

You thought that you were going to make it the rest of the flight without incident, but in the early morning dark just a few hours before landing the plane hit a patch of turbulence, and even though it was barely a shake you had jolted awake instantly.

Now, while the rest of the plane slumbers on you’re tucked in the alcove back by the washrooms with your eyes squeezed shut, jacket and scarf discarded at your feet as your heart does its best to escape through your chest wall. Even though the plane is perfectly smooth now your nerves have returned in full force, fingers tingling as you try to will the cold, hollow feeling in your gut away from spreading into your limbs.

You feel a presence enter your personal space at the same time that you see the shadow fall over you through closed eyelids, and the voice you hear is low and calm, sliding its way into your consciousness between panicked breaths.

“Take a deep breath, love.”

Forcing your eyes open, you see the tattooed passenger from earlier standing in front of you.

“I don’t know what’s- I’ve never been like this before on a flight,” you feel compelled to explain as tears of frustration prick at your eyes. “I just can’t catch my-” you gasp, trying to keep your voice down so you don't disturb the sleeping passengers.

He glances over his shoulder briefly and then back at you, pausing for a moment as he seems to consider something, and then his arm is around your waist and he’s quickly guiding you into an unoccupied washroom, following closely and locking the door behind you.

Taking your hands in his, he moves them so that your palms are pressed flat against his chest, and when he speaks his words are steady but firm.

“Now, take a deep breath for me."

As he draws a slow, deep breath himself it dawns on you that he wants you to mimic him, so on his next inhale you match it by taking a shaky gulp of air into your lungs, and when he holds his breath at the top of it for a few seconds you do the same. Letting your eyelids slip closed you find that you’re able to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, on the feeling of warm fabric over firm muscle, on the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hands.

You’re not sure how long you stay like this but steadily your nerves begin to settle, every breath calmer than the last. 

As your senses start to slide back into place you become aware of calloused palms covering yours, of your breath mixing in the shared space between you, and when you open your eyes again you’re greeted by the sight of both of your hands framing his chest beneath the open collar of his shirt.

“How are you feeling now?” The soft gravel of his voice draws your attention upward, appraising eyes meeting yours.

“Better. I…thank you. Really.” You reply truthfully, feeling better than you have in the past forty-eight hours.

Logically you know that you should end this now, that you need to pull away and return to the rest of the plane to prepare for the approaching dawn, but instead you feel frozen in place beneath his gaze.

“Good,” he says, making no a move to pull away, either.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline still working its way out of your system, or the way that his hands sliding up your forearms makes you shiver, or the heady musk of sweat and cologne mixing with the warmth of your bodies in the close space, but when you do move it’s not to pull away.  Instead you tighten your fists in the fabric of his shirt and when you tug he immediately responds, crowding closer until your back is flush against the wall behind you.

Keeping his eyes on yours his hands drop to your waist before sliding slowly around the curve of your hips, and when he tugs you against him you gasp when you feel the stiffening curve of his erection pressing into your abdomen.

He leans in close enough that his lips brush the crest of your ear, and though his breath is hot on your skin his words raise goosebumps along your neck.

“Would you like your distraction now?”

You can hear the smile curling around the sweet tease of his words, and you hum an affirmation, unable to help the roll your hips against his arousal.

“What was that?” 

There’s a sharper edge to his voice when he prompts you again.

“Yes,” you say more firmly, startled by how he’s managed to drop your guard and stoke your need so quickly, the warm ache between your thighs swelling from his proximity and a few simple words.

Pulling back, a hand moves to cup your cheek as you look at him through hooded eyes, a thumb sliding under your chin to tilt your face up and then his mouth is closing over yours, full lips surprisingly soft as they drag across yours in a teasing slide, and just when you feel the faint flick of his tongue and you part your lips to deepen the kiss, he pulls away. 

For a long moment time seems to hang suspended in the sharp blue of his eyes, and then as if drawn by a magnet it’s you that’s moving and your mouth is on his again, your own tongue flicking against the seam of his lips and you sigh when he parts them. 

The kiss quickly deepens as you run your hands over the broad muscle of his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck as his tongue swirls against yours, licking deeper and growling into your mouth when your hips start to roll against him more urgently. It’s not long before your touch grows frantic, both of you seeking more, fingers blindly grasping at fabric and tugging at buttons until his shirt hangs open, forgoing yours entirely as he tugs it up over your head before pulling you back against him, a hand sliding beneath your bra to cup your breast as he kisses you breathless in a growing fervor of tongues and teeth, 

When you try to lift your leg but your skirt stops you he tugs at the hem, pulling it up until it’s bunched around your middle and when you hitch your leg around his waist he grabs your hips in his hands, your cunt throbbing as he grinds you against the rough denim covering the now very prominent ridge of his cock.

Then suddenly his tattooed hand is finding its way between your bodies and sliding down to find the juncture of your legs, your mouth dropping open with a helpless moan when his fingers press the damp fabric against your sex.

“How are you feeling now, love?” He pants against your lips, his teasing words now rough with lust “Dis-distracted.” You huff a breathless laugh.

"That’s good,” he hums. “But you’re going to have to be quieter than that. You wouldn’t want to wake the other passengers, now, would you?”

His fingers press more firmly now, the friction of the slick fabric against your clit has you biting back a moan as you buck into his touch.

Taking a steadying breath you glance at the door before flicking your eyes back to his and shaking your head, No. 

With a pleased look his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, keeping his eyes fixed on yours as his fingers part you, sliding through your already damp folds and down to your entrance and you bite your lip as just the tip of his finger presses into you, gathering your arousal before sliding back up to nudge against your clit.

Then he does it again, fingers only swirling against the sensitive bud for a few seconds before dipping back down to find more of your slick, tracing and re-tracing the path along your sex until you’re trembling, and maybe it’s the altitude but you’re startled by how quickly you feel your orgasm building just from his teasing touch.

“Oh my god, I-” You whimper.

“What, love?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his words, but he must take pity on your desperation because his focus is only on your clit now, pressing firmly and quickly picking up on your needy rhythm as you rock against his hand, a shaky whisper squeaking from your throat.

“So close, oh my god oh-”

One of your hands flies up to your mouth to stifle the moans you can no longer hold back, faintly aware of rough words whispered into the space where you hover between anticipation and ecstasy, Let go, just like that. And then all of your thoughts are wiped away, eyes squeezing shut as your body tenses in bliss and you come hard, swells of pleasure surging out from the point where his fingers firmly coax your writhing hips to take what you need. 

His hand stays pressed against you even as the waves start to soften, feeling the aftershocks that continue to ripple through your cunt as your body relaxes and you drift back to awareness, and only when you go limp, your hand dropping from your mouth with a sigh does he release your thigh and remove his hand from between your legs. 

Though you’re still unfocused and trying to catch your breath, when his hands move to his belt your eyes follow, watching as he unbuckles it and then lowers the zipper, pushing his underwear and jeans down together until his cock bobs free, thick and glossy with precum at the tip. You lick your lips at the sight and he smirks at your greedy stare, stroking himself lazily a few times, smearing you along his length with the hand that was just between your legs.

Then without warning he grabs your waist, turning and pushing you forward and you have to quickly brace yourself against the wall as rough hands push your panties down around your thighs, and you hear a hitch in his breathing behind you as he grips your ass, slowly massaging and spreading you open.

“I’m going to fuck you now, alright love?” 

It’s a question that’s not really a question at all, but his rumbled words have you instinctively arching yourself into his hands and when you look back over your shoulder you go breathless, the blue of his eyes ocean deep and rough at the edges as he takes in the sight of your exposed sex. 

“Can see how wet you are,” he murmurs, seemingly to himself as he finds your soaked entrance again, and you barely manage to hold back a moan when he slowly slides a thick finger into your tight heat.

“Yes, you certainly seemed to like that, didn’t you?” 

His words are maddening but you’re unable to help the shuddering gasp when he adds a second finger, continuing to pump deep into you until his hand is shining with you.

“Shhh, listen," he hushes, and you bite your lip as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, the soft wet sounds of the slide and suck of them every time they sink into you obscene in the small space. “Already so messy, but I want to know how much more of a mess you’ll make when I’m fucking you on my cock.” 

You whine at the loss as he withdraws his fingers from you, using them again to slick himself with your arousal before pressing forward, and you tremble with anticipation when you feel the thick head slide through your folds to line up with your entrance.

The grip of his prosthetic hand on your hip is strong as he holds you in place, the thought fighting it’s way through the lust that it’s more than just what it seems - and that you should probably be concerned by that - but you can’t seem to find the will to care when his cock starts slowly sinking into you. 

Your eyelids flutter and you have no control over the gritted moan that escapes from your throat as he stretches you open, and he quickly moves his other hand to cover your mouth.

“I’d love nothing more than to make you cry out til you’re hoarse,” he growls between clenched teeth. “To find out what pretty sounds you make when you’re desperate. But right now I need you to be good for me and stay quiet. Can you do that, love?”

You’re not actually sure if you can, but the only clear thought in your mind is that you need him to keep going, so you nod against the resistance of his hand. 

Feeling your agreement he releases your mouth and moves both hands back to your hips, continuing the slow slide of his cock into you. Just barely managing to tamp down the sounds he’s drawing from your throat you once again focus on taking deep, shaky breaths as your fingers grasp at nothing on the wall, and even though the aching stretch of him is almost too much all you can think is that you want more.

Laying your palms flat you brace yourself against the wall and push back, rocking your hips to encourage him deeper, but he’s thick and even with your effort there's not enough leverage in this position to take him as deep as you want to.

However that doesn’t seem to stop him from letting you try.

"You can do better than that, can't you?” His words are an infuriating tease. “Don't you want to take all of it?"

You know he can sense how frustrated you’re getting as you continue to move, but he's still keeping himself just far enough back that you struggle to take him deeper. 

“Don’t you want to make me?” You grit back, startled by the low heat of your words.

“Careful, love. I’m not sure that you want me to ‘make you’.” 

His words are black as pitch as fingers dig roughly into the flesh of your hips, your cunt fluttering around his cock at the warning in his voice.

“Ohhh, but look at that.” he sighs, suddenly. ”Aren’t you a sight.”

Your movements falter, confusion interrupting your frustration until a hand grips your chin and turns your head toward the far wall so that your eyes fall on your disheveled reflections in the small mirror there, gasping as you take in the image of yourself, glassy-eyed and panting and still desperately trying to fuck yourself back onto his cock.

When you meet his eyes through the mirror a slow grin spreads across his lips, and then his hand moves to cover your mouth again.

Your brows knit in confusion since you thought that you had managed to keep mostly quiet, but you only have a second to wonder what he's doing when without warning he thrusts hard, pulling you roughly back onto his cock at the same time and stifling your cry of surprise behind his hand as he finally buries himself all the way to the hilt.

"I know, shhh, it's alright, love,” he pants against your cheek. “Wanted me to make you, yeah?”

A muffled moan is your only response as he uses the hand that’s over your mouth to keep your head pressed back against his shoulder, then just barely pulling out of you he grips your hip tight with his prosthetic hand and thrusts back into you.

“Christ you feel so fucking good.” he grits out, rutting into you harder, and the fact that you can tell he's fighting to keep his own groans under control makes the bloom of pleasure in your cunt deepen as he fills you again and again, unable to hold back the whining pant in your throat at every jolt of his hips against your ass.

You try to brace your hands more firmly against the wall but your elbows buckle as he leans into you, thrusting hard, and you hold yourself on your forearms instead, hearing a delicious grunt in your ear every time he bottoms out. The muscles of your cunt begin to tighten, the angle and the deep friction of his cock grinding against the sensitive spot behind your clit sending white hot sparks beneath your eyelids, and you feel like if you could just get your fingers on your clit you’d be there.

You manage to steady yourself on one arm as the other hand reaches desperately down between your legs, the brush of your fingers over your clit rough and unsteady as he continues to fuck you but it doesn’t matter, it only takes a few circling swipes and every sense is tightening its focus on his cock and your fingers.

“Are you going to come for me again?” His growled whisper stutters with the rhythm of his thrusts.

But even if his hand wasn’t over your mouth  you couldn’t have responded, your only thought the breathless pressure of your climax rising higher and higher, blinding you to anything else as your vision goes grey at the edges and your body spasms around and against him, a desperate moan shuddering through your chest as your orgasm finally overtakes you. 

Not letting up he continues to fuck you through it, every stroke of his cock achingly deep, but it’s not long before you feel his rhythm start to falter and with a final few thrusts he stills, the tight grip of his fingers digging into your jaw until you feel the throb of his cock as he comes, shaking against you and biting back a guttural sound as he spends himself deep in your cunt. The last waves of your climax have you still clenching around him, and while the movement of his hips slows he keeps himself buried in you as deep as possible so that you can do nothing but take every last drop.

You gasp to catch your breath when he releases your mouth and finally collapses against you. Pressing you into the wall he pants into your hair, the weight of him almost helping to keep you upright while your body is still shaky and unsteady.

After a few long moments like this you eventually feel him shift and pull back, both of you biting back one last moan as he slowly slides out of you, finding yourself aching at the loss.

“You go out first,” you say, still slightly breathless. “I'm..I need a second to clean up.”

“No, you don’t.” 

His tone is casual, and you don't really understand. 

“Um, after that? Yeah, I do.” You laugh a little, assuming that he’s joking.

“No. You don't.” He repeats firmly and turns to face you, a glint of gold flashing through his grin as he finishes buttoning his shirt. “Because that wasn’t your distraction.”

“It’s...what?” You stammer, still trying to figure out what he’s getting at.

“Your distraction,” he continues, stepping back into your space “will be feeling my cum leaking out of you for the rest of the flight.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open in shock.

“Maybe it’ll soak through your panties. Start dripping down your legs as you walk around serving coffee, and you’ll have to act like I didn’t fill your needy little cunt.”

“Jesus Christ,” you pant. “What...who the hell are you?” It’s all you manage to get out as your mind swirls at his words.

He doesn’t answer your question, but when his expression darkens you can almost hear the words he doesn’t say: Maybe it’s best you don’t know, love.

“You should get dressed.” His eyes flick pointedly to where your panties are still down around your thighs, your skin flushing with embarrassed heat as he patiently watches you finally absorb his meaning, but something in his smirk has a swell of defiance surging through you, and perhaps there’s another kind of heat there as well.

Doing your best to fix a neutral expression on your face you keep your eyes on his as you slowly pull the garment back up before tugging your skirt down from where it’s bunched around your waist. Finally you pull your shirt back on, straightening and smoothing everything back into place as best you can before quickly fixing your hair.

Once you’ve tucked your flyaways behind your ears you meet his eyes again with an expectant arch of your brow.

“Ladies first,” he says with a sly grin and gestures towards the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

He was right, and you’re not sure how you feel about it. 

There was more turbulence just before landing prep but you don’t feel the spike of adrenaline that you had before, as if the circuit of anxiety had been interrupted. Instead all you can think about is the slick warmth growing between your thighs with every step you take, and every time you glance at him he’s watching you, a persistent thrum of heat low in your belly at the knowing smile that curls the corner of his lips

About two months later, on the same long-haul flight from Johannesburg to Corfu, you’ve started walking the drink cart down the aisle when you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm leaning on the armrest. 

It could be anyone, you reason. Lots of people have tattoos.

You pretend that you’re not eager to reach the seat, but as you approach your breath quickens when the distinct arc of ink running up his neck and beneath a fresh undercut comes into view.

“Hello, love,” he greets you with a familiar grin. 

Heat slides through your core when you hear the voice that’s haunted your dreams for weeks, and you try to keep your words steady as you repeat the practiced refrain.

“What can I get for you today, sir?” 

“I have something for you, actually,” he replies, reaching a hand into his pocket and withdrawing a folded slip of paper, holding it up for you to take. 

After a beat you pluck it from between his fingers, opening it to see an address that you recognize as a hotel not far from the airport. And a name.

Ulysses Klaue.

Somehow unsurprised that he would have a name like that, you meet his eyes as you tuck the paper into the pocket of your jacket.

“Your drink order, then..Mr. Klaue?”

“Whiskey, please. And call me Ulysses, love.”

You bite back a smile as you move to serve the next passenger, wondering if you’ll have to wait the full fifteen hour flight to feel his hand between your legs again.

But judging by the glint in his eyes when you look back at him, you having a feeling that you won’t.

A/N: As always, thank you so very much for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed reader's smutty little adventure in the sky. 😉

[citrus-moonlight]

Jess, I still am in complete awe of this, that you spent so much time and effort and creativity and love into putting together this amazing anthology, and that I now get the hold my words next the words in my hands, along side the words of some of the most wonderful, talented people I've ever had the incredible fortune to know.

The fact that you wanted to do this means so much, I am always astounded by your generosity and creativity, and that we now get to have this wonderful gift made by you still fills me with so much joy, I can't tell you how much I appreciate and will always cherish this! 💕

I still love picking it up and appreciating all the details you included - his silhouette on the cover! Klaue's boarding pass! And the fact that demon!Klaue is in print still makes my brain have to reboot itself I will never be over it. I will never be over this! Thank you my dear friend, I love you so much! 🥰

I think it's important to share something you're proud of (especially when your friends are the reason that you're so proud of it!), so - ta-da!! this is the hard work of some very beloved mutuals (along with several months of personal trial and error). every single one of these stories are a comfort fic for me, and they so kindly allowed me to make an anthology of their works!

the anthology contains 14 stories (348 pages and 111k words!!!! 💖), which were then designed/typeset/hand-bound by myself from start to finish (with permission, and individual copies mailed out to them as keepsakes).

it is so exciting to have a physical copy of some of my very favorite fics, made by such wonderful people! 💕 And I can’t wait to learn more and grow with this hobby!

[itspileofgoodthings]

I mean I’m obsessed with crash landing on you because it’s like if a hallmark movie was good and that is fascinating to my brain and healing to my heart.

[brown-little-robin]

my last week, a visual demonstration

[freak1ish]

@ungraciousknight starter from Lupin

"I don't know whenever I should be appalled or flattered that you decided to look like a carbon copy of me or at least one version of me. " He wasn't going to ELABORATE that the face he was currently wearing was little more than a mask he hid behind on a daily basis just to stop people from fleeing in terror when they saw his disfigured features. "What is your name? Mine is Lupin. "

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

Like in an airplane bathroom, perhaps? 😏

blaming my lack of productivity today on those pics of klaue, how am I supposed to focus after seeing that???

I’m such an Alfred girly because of the romance, but I know klaue would be so nasty in bed!! or out of bed because I also know he’ll fuck you anywhere

Ugh right! I just know it’s filthy every time with Klaue 😵‍💫😮‍💨 and knowing he could give it to you anywhere, anytime he wants?! Please where do I volunteer!

Alfred fulfills all my romantic horny feels while Klaue feeds the side that just wants to be face down getting railed ya know, I love that for us truly

[stereax]

woohoo spiraling out of control right now (what else is new really I've been fucked up and spiraling for weeks now) and trying to figure out reasons not to delete my tumblr and discord and myself along the way

but you know. talking about myself on my blog automatically means I'm attention seeking and fishing for pity right? should just shut up and stick to the news eh, it's all I'm good for :D

anyway if you need me I'll be in the corner reliving the past, coming to terms with reality, and trying to convince myself I'm not the problem despite every indication to the contrary ✌︎︎

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil

synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all

FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES

length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)

contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)

notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3

the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.

“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”

“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”

“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”

“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”

you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.

“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”

“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”

“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”

“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.

well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.

“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”

“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”

“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”

“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”

he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”

“we didn’t get this room.”

oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.

“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”

“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.

the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.

“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”

“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”

his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.

“no, absolutely not—”

“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.

god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.

it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.

and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.

“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”

“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”

you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 

“satoru—”

“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 

so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.

“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 

“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”

“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.

“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 

“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”

“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”

“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”

his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 

“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.

“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 

so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 

satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”

“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 

“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”

“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”

“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”

that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 

they just always want more.

there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 

the way the world works. 

the way you and satoru work. 

so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 

“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”

that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 

you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.

“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”

“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”

“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”

“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”

“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”

“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”

that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”

“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 

he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”

“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”

“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”

you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 

“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 

“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”

you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 

his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.

the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 

it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.

“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”

“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”

“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”

“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”

“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”

you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.

i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach

[ellecdc]

James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and *takes a dramatic breath* you?

this one's for you @enamoredwithbella, thanks for sorting this idea out with me @unstablereader

poly!Marauders + Lily x shy!reader who is so smitten with them

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with, reader is in Hufflepuff, swearing, consent because it's sexy AF

This was obviously a bad idea.

You’re not even sure how your friends managed to convince you to attend the Gryffindor party, but you swore to every deity it would never happen again.

There were too many people (most of whom you’d never spoken to before), it was too loud (songs you didn’t particularly care for), and the fifteenth time someone bumped into you nearly sent you over the edge.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” A low voice commented as an arm quickly righted you from your nearly horizontal position. “Y’alright?”

You looked up to see the face of none other than Gryffindor quidditch captain James Potter beaming down at you.

You were ashamed of yourself for the way that smile made you feel.

“Erm, yup! Thanks.” You squeaked, quickly freeing yourself from James’ grasp so fast that you nearly knocked someone else over in your attempt at creating distance between you and the Headboy.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like James. On the contrary; you were rather smitten with him.

Him and his partners - which was nothing short of dense in simple terms.

But you couldn’t help the way you blushed when he held the doors open for you as you walked into classes, or the friendly smile and wave he’d shoot at you when he saw you on Prefect rounds. 

You sort of wished he’d stop being so bloody nice to you; maybe then you’d be able to get over this crush that was never going to amount to anything.

But James was taken; three times over. 

And what a sodding group they were.

Heart Throb of Hogwarts™ Sirius Black in his effortless style, his devil may care attitude, and his insatiable flirting. Being noticed by Sirius felt like your favourite rockstar singing a song written just for you. 

And don’t even get you started on the enigma that is Remus Lupin; the Cassanova of Gryffindor tower. Everyone in your year (and likely the years below you) had at some point or another crushed hard on the quiet Marauder; but it really couldn’t be helped. He was tall, he was handsome, he was kind, and though he was far more quiet than his counterparts, the quips he shared with you never ceased to reduce you to a fit of laughter.

And gods, was Lily Evans ever beautiful. She was the total package; she was funny, outgoing, smart, and stunning. Looking at her even now with her long auburn hair as she threw her head back in laughter; so open and care free in her actions. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be her or being underneath-

No.

No. That was not a nice thing to think about someone who was in a committed relationship.

You let out a sigh as you zoned back into the fact that James still had one of his hands on your elbow and was smiling curiously at you. 

“Thanks for the save! I really owe you one.” You chuckled awkwardly and nearly took out one of the Prewett twins in your haste to leave Potter’s vicinity. 

Unfortunately, trouble seemed to be following you.

And by trouble, you meant Sirius Black.

“Damn, Hufflepuff!” He cheered as he moved a sultry gaze up and down your body appreciatively. “Give us a spin, dollface.”

You felt all the blood in your body migrate to your cheeks as you fought to keep your mouth from falling open.

Lily, the beautiful angel (or the evil temptress, depending on how you looked at it), swatted at Sirius from her perch on the arm of the chair her boyfriend was currently occupying.

“Down boy; you’re going to scare her away.” She teased with a smirk as she winked at you. 

You felt momentarily grateful for her.

And then she spoke again.

“Then none of us will get to look at her.”

Fucking Helga, was it hot in here? They needed to open more windows; preferably one you could launch yourself out of right now, thank you very much. 

“That’d be such a shame, really. Sorry doll, you don’t gotta spin - no one else here deserves to appreciate such a view.”

“Okay.” You squeaked and turned in search of your friends.

You know what? Fuck your friends; you were leaving with or without them. 

They weren’t….flirting with you, were they?

Surely not.

Of course not.

What a ridiculous thing to think.

But…it certainly felt like they were flirting with you.

Maybe one more glance?

Just as you were about to approach the portrait hole, you turned for one more look at the objects of your affection and your current tormentors and - yup, sure enough - Sirius, Lily, and now James were all standing there smiling at you.

They were watching you leave?!

Okay time to go, that is enough nonsense for one day. 

You spun and collided with something tall and solid which thankfully caught your arms as you all but ricocheted off of them.

“Hey there, dove. Where’re you headed in such a hurry?”

Please for the love of gods, don’t tell me…

But of course, you looked up to see the face of one Remus Fucking Lupin smirking down at you. 

“You lot are everywhere.” You whispered in awe. The bastard only chuckled in response.

“Come on you guys! We’re going to start a game of truth or dare!” Lily called over to…you (?) and Remus.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we?” Remus murmured lowly into your ear as he steered you towards the growing circle congregating around the various chairs and sofas littering the common room.

And listen, you’re not particularly proud that you were so placid in Remus’ man handling you.

But in your defence…

In your defence, Remus was man handling you. 

And to your absolute horror, he plopped you down beside Lily on a large chair that was not quite large enough for two people. 

You tried to swallow your heart back down which was attempting to escape via your mouth as you became hyper focused on the fact that Lily sodding Evans was pushed up against you none too casually and- Merlin’s tits, was she playing with your hair!? 

You pretended to pay attention as a few rounds passed by; your friend being dared to give you a lap dance being the most brazen thing to have taken place.

Until it got to the Marauders.

Marlene dared Sirius to strip down to his boxers for a whole round which he was all but too eager to do, apparently. Meaning he got to ask the next person.

“Moony!” 

Remus smiled down at his lap before he looked over at one of his boyfriend’s mischievously. 

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl here.”

You’re not necessarily proud of the way your heart plummeted at that; this is what you had been telling yourself all night. They were taken.

No matter if they complimented you.

No matter if they caught you as you fell. 

No matter if they snuggled up to you on a chair designed for one.

No matter if one of them made you feel like you leaving the party early would have been truly devastating.

No matter.

“That’s impossible; there’s two of them.” Remus said quickly, causing your heart to ache for Lily.

Who even says that when their girlfriend is sitting right here!?

You kept your head down as the party all ooooh’ed and aawwwweee’d.

James let out a funny high pitched laugh as if he were an over excited kid on Christmas morning. “Guess you’ll have to kiss them both then.” 

You really should have left when you had the chance; you weren’t sure you could watch.

It was their business if they wanted to include another, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“Or they can kiss each other; I think I’d enjoy that just as much.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Lily said as she stood; the space she once inhabited felt cold and vacant without her.

“Well? Come on then?” She said as she grabbed your arm.

“What?”

“Come with me.” She said again, wiggling your arm within your grasp, and who were you to deny her, really?

Like a well trained dog you followed her obediently over to where Remus sat before she all but shoved you into his lap.

“You seem like the fidgety type; maybe Rem can help with that, hm?” She said as she shot a wink at Remus over your shoulder.

His arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he rested his chin on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”

You had no time to be absolutely horrified at the pathetic little keening sound that escaped your lips as you looked up at the red-head now towering over you.

“What do you say, gorgeous?” And though her emerald eyes did shine with some mischief, you could see she was earnest; this was your choice.

“Okay.” You whispered barely loud enough for you to hear yourself over the hammering of your heart.

“Yeah?” She whispered as she knelt in front of you.

“Yeah.” You agreed.

And you only got to see the soft, hopeful smile that adorned her lips for but a moment before her hands were on either side of your face and she was pressing her soft lips to yours. 

It could have been hours or centuries but it was also all too soon before she was pulling away from you; a proud smile on her lips though her cheeks were a similar colour to her hair.

You became aware of the hooting and hollering going on around you as Remus’ chest began to vibrate in laughter.

“Beautiful.” He murmured - likely more to himself than to you, but you heard it all the same.

“Do I get a turn?!” James shouted before Sirius roughly grabbed him by the waist and planted him down on his lap.

“Not before me, Jamie.” He snickered as he shot you a wink. 

The audacity of a man to still be so confident sitting in nothing but his boxers. 

You tried to hide behind your hands though it was all for naught as Remus made a theatrical cooing sound and pulled you further into his lap until you were all but cradled in his arms.

“Maybe without an audience next time, hm?” He asked you as he brushed some hairs away from your forehead.

Not trusting yourself to speak (or to even make direct eye contact with the bloke currently cuddling you in your lap), you nodded with your face still hidden.

“Way to go babe.” James said as Lily went to join the two boys on their loveseat. “You were so good, we’ll even get a next time!”

read about their first date here!

[smileysuh]

deal maker

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, breast worship, pussy eating, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, dry humping, foreplay, slight corruption kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) sweetheart. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 8.7k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, Halloween, supernatural/demon au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  Happy Halloween!

One: her

If it weren’t for the fact that you’re in the middle of a library, you might just scream. You know your workload increases with each year you’re in university, but there’s something sinister about the amount of book-related essays you have right before Halloween.

You’re doing your best to focus, and you’ve read the entirety of the ‘Frankenstein’ book that you’re supposed to be analyzing, but you just can’t find words.

A massive sigh escapes you, and your best friend, Hwasa, casts you a sideways glance. “You good, babes?” she asks.

“I just- I can’t do this,” you groan. “It’s a completely open ended prompt- I could write about anything I want to, and all things considered, five thousand words isn’t the longest essay ever- but, damn, I seriously can’t think right now.”

She nods sympathetically. “Do you really think you’re at rock bottom on this?”

“I don’t see how I could go any lower.”

“Okay, well,” she scoots her chair closer to you, her voice lowering, “i wouldn’t suggest this otherwise, but uh- have you ever thought about contacting the Sigma Veta Tau demon?”

“The what?” you stare at her blankly.

“Of course you wouldn’t know about him, you’re a goody goody,” Hwasa sighs. “Basically, there’s this guy in the SVT frat who makes deals and does your work for you.”

“What’s this have to do with being a demon?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a weird myth- basically, this guy helped me with an essay last year worth thirty percent of my grade. All he asked for was a family heirloom, and I think it’s his weird choice of price for favours that get him the whole ‘demon’ thing cuz he doesn’t usually ask for money like other dudes who write your papers would.”

“How did you do? On the essay?” you ask.

“Got an A. He doesn’t overdo it, he does enough to get you a good grade but not so good it’s obvious you didn’t do the work.”

“So… is he an actual demon, or?” You cock your head to the side, trying to understand the whole demon relevance.

“Nah, like I said, he’s just some hot nerd who wrote my essay. It wasn’t sketchy at all.”

“And he does this for a lot of people?”

“I’ve heard about a few. I know his friend Dokyeom was close to failing his Kinesiology course and somehow Wonwoo did his final exam for him and helped him pass.”

You let out a small laugh. You’re familiar with the Sigma Veta Tau frat, and DK is a well known figure there- getting someone to help him pass Kinesiology is very characteristic to the loud gym bro. “Wait, but, how did Wonwoo pull it off? They ID you at the final exams, don’t they?”

Hwasa shrugs. “I guess the dude pulls off miracles every once in a blue moon, maybe that’s part of his ‘demonic’ reputation.”

“Are we sure this a good idea?” you ask.

“Making a deal with the Devil?” Hwasa clarifies. “Of course, what could go wrong?”

You laugh at her choice of words. 

This Wonwoo guy definitely isn’t the Devil… and even if he was, what would making a deal with him even really include? 

You’re skeptical to say the least, but looking back at your worn out book, and your laptop document open with zero words- you begin to wonder if maybe this Wonwoo guy is a good way to solve your current predicament. 

Two:

Wonwoo quite enjoys living on campus. He loves the onslaught to his senses every time he’s out and about, mingling with university kids who have way too much on their plate. No one ever notices him, no one ever notices the things that are slightly… off about him, they’re much too busy focusing on this week’s term paper, or this week’s quiz.

No, Wonwoo’s extremely happy being exactly where he is. He’s lounging in a coffee shop that connects to the book store, his eyes darting from person to person, assessing-

That’s when his gaze locks with someone familiar.

Hwasa had come to him last year, needing an essay completed. It had been one of Wonwoo’s easier tasks, as he’s read the source material upwards of twenty times in his long life. He’s seen her around campus a few times since then, but she’s never approached him, not the way she is now.

“Hi, Wonwoo!” Hwasa grins, demenour as bubbly as ever. 

The frat boy simply nods, his gaze turning to assess you as you stand next to your friend.

“This is y/n,” Hwasa introduces you. “She’s actually struggling with an essay right now-”

“Hate to hear about an academic struggle,” Wonwoo interrupts, “especially while enjoying my coffee.” His eyes return to you again. “If you ever need a tutor, you should swing by the frat.”

“I would appreciate that,” you nod, a little breathless.

It’s clear there’s something off about you too- your heard rate is going faster than the average rate, and you’re finding it difficult to meet his gaze. 

Ah, things click in Wonwoo’s head, this particular set of responses isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with. Many girls react this way to him, getting ‘flustered,’ as humans would say.

However, what is unfamiliar, is the way Wonwoo himself is reacting to it. He finds it cute, endearing in a way- as opposed to the annoyed feeling he usually gets when women are easily infatuated with him.

“Here,” Wonwoo breathes smoothly, picking up a pen from his notepad. “Give me your hand.”

Your gaze flickers to Hwasa for a moment, and then you’re reaching forward. Wonwoo grasps your wrist, enjoying the warmth of your skin and the way you jolt from his touch. He quickly writes his phone number down on your inner palm. “Give me a call about tutoring you sometime, we can discuss details then.”

“O-okay,” you nod, immediately taking your hand back when he’s finished, cradling it close to your chest.

“If that’s all you two have to say to me,” Wonwoo breathes, looking between you and Hwasa, “I’d love to get back to my coffee.”

Three:

“Hey, I’m at the frat, where are you?” you ask as you answer your best friend’s call. You feel so awkward just standing here, trying to look like you belong even though you’re sure you stand out in the all boys frat village.

“Babes, I’m so sorry- I’m at this study group and it’s going mega late, I didn’t even realize the time and I’m across campus-”

You let out a sigh. “Are you seriously going to make me do this alone?”

“You’ll be fine!” Hwasa assures you. “Wonwoo won’t bite, it’s the daylight after all.”

She giggles, and you roll your eyes. You’re still not sure how you feel about this whole ‘demon’ thing, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little afraid to enter a fratboy den of wolves alone.

“You’ve got this,” Hwasa says again. “If you need anything, just text me, and remember, I stalk your snapchat location so if anything happens-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh. “Okay, I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

You hang up on Hwasa, taking a deep breath and turning to the front door. You approach cautiously, raising your hand and knocking three times.

It takes a couple of moments, but eventually, a man opens the door. You recougnize Jeonghan, he’s the frat president’s right hand man, a business major with a reputation for hitting on every girl he meets.

“Well, look who it is,” Jeonghan grins, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder while he shovels some cereal into his mouth from the bowl in his hand.

He’s in an oversized white shirt and sweatpants, you’d bet he hasn’t been to classes today- and fuck it, he looks handsome, all the SVT men do.

“Sorry, hi, I’m here for Wonwoo, but I don’t think we’ve actually met,” you say awkwardly, holding out a hand.

Jeonghan’s gaze falls to your extended palm, and he chuckles. “Wonwoo gets all the cute girls,” he says, moving away from the door frame to let you inside, “but none of them ever stick around.”

“I’m here to study,” you try to explain.

“Sure you are,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. You follow him through the entryway living space, pausing as he heads back into the connected kitchen. “Wonwoo’s room is the third floor, first door on the left.” You stand there for a few moments, and Jeonghan cocks his head to the side. “You have no clue where the stairs are, do you?” 

“Nope.”

“That door,” he points with his spoon. “Don’t get lost.”

He’s a bit of an odd one, and with a final thank you, you scurry away, following his directions past a door and up three flights of stairs. You pause outside the first room on the left, swallowing thickly before you knock.

“Come in!” Wonwoo’s voice calls out. 

Before you can push the door open, it opens by itself, and you half expect Wonwoo to be standing there- only to find him seated on his bed with a book in his hands.

He’s in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants. His hood is up, but his dark curls are poking out, toying with the rims of glasses that set of the sharp angles of his face. 

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Uh-” you cough. “Y/N.” The door opening by itself had freaked you out, and you wonder how true the whole demon thing is- God, that’s been on your mind a lot.

“Come in, relax, and tell me what I can do for you,” he instructs, using his foot to push out a chair near his bed. 

You swallow thickly again, closing the door behind you and approaching. You take a seat, letting out a breath. “So basically I have an essay on Frankenstein- have you read it?”

“Of course. Have you?” he counters.

“Yeah, I’ve read it, but uh… anyways, it’s due on Halloween, which is two weeks away, and I have so many other essays to write-”

“What’s the topic?”

“Open ended.”

“How many words?”

“Five thousand.”

“That doesn’t seem very hard,” he muses with a grin, slotting a marker between his pages so he can rest his book on his chest, getting a better look at you.

“Usually it wouldn’t be, but I’m just blanking- I don’t even know where to start.” You release a stressed breath. “So I brought a family heirloom.”

Wonwoo just looks at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“Hwasa said she paid you last time with her grandmothe’rs broach?” you try to explain.

“My price is different for everyone,” Wonwoo tells you, holding out a hand. “Let’s see what you brought.”

“It’s my aunt’s.” You give the necklace to him. “She got it to me to celebrate graduating highschool and getting into university.”

Wonwoo inspects the delicate silver chain, looking at the crescent moon charm with an opal in the middle. “It’s obviously valuable,” he says, handing it back to you, “but I can tell it’s not very sentimental.”

“So…” you fidget with the necklace in your palm, “what do you want?”

Wonwoo’s eyes begin to scan your form, and suddenly you feel very uncomfortable. It’s as if he’s undressing you in his mind, and it makes you fidget in your seat. His gaze lands on your chest, and you fight the urge to cover your tits-

He sits up, reaching forward- You hold your breath as his fingers brush by your collar bones, too close to the swell of your breasts for your liking- and then he’s lifting your necklace, leaning even closer to inspect it.

You can feel his breath on your skin, and he’s so close- God, why is something as simple as this so erotic? You’ve dealt with pretty boys before, but there’s something about a pretty, nerdy, dangerous boy- 

“Where did you get this?” he asks, thumb smoothing across the golden heart attached to the chain on your neck.

It’s hard to find your voice, but after a moment, you’re able to respond. “It was uh- it was from my last boyfriend.”

“An ex?” His gaze lifts to you.

“Yeah.” You can feel your skin heating.

“And you didn’t get rid of it?”

“I figure I bought him a bunch of stuff while we were dating, pretty sure this was only fifty bucks or something, so I guess I thought I deserved to keep it.”

Wonwoo nods. You watch his gaze dip to your lips, just for a moment, and then he’s releasing your necklace and leaning back into his bed again. “That will work.”

“It will?” you ask in shock.

“Uh huh. There’s a certain sort of sentimentality to it. Also… even though you say you kept it because you deserved it, buying him so many things or whatever, I think it’s a shame that a pretty girl like you is still holding onto something from the past, instead of looking at your future. I’ll take it off your hands, and you can progress now, with more than just your essay.”

You wonder what sort of motive Wonwoo has, what significance a necklace from your ex actually has on a man who’s practically a stranger.

“Okay,” you murmur, reaching behind your throat to undo the clasp. “So… how does this work now?”

“A five thousand word open ended essay on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein…” Wonwoo takes his glasses off, wiping them with his hoodie. “I guess, you give me some time to think it through, I text you, and you come see me again.”

You watch the way he puts his spectacles back onto his face- it’s shocking how small, simple, mundane motions can be so beautiful when completed by a man like him.

“Okay,” you nod. “I guess… I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“You will,” he agrees. “Bye for now.”

He relaxes against his pillows, lifting his book and immediately turning his attention to it.

You stand up and leave without another word, your heart racing in your chest.

Once you’re outside the frat house, you call Hwasa. 

“So how did it go?” she asks. “He didn’t kill you, so that’s good news!”

“He also didn’t want the family heirloom,” you sigh.

“So what did he want?”

“My necklace, you know, the one from my ex.”

“That’s weird, why would he want that?”

“Hell if I know,” you groan. “Hwasa… he’s not an actual demon, right?”

“Of course not!” she laughs.

You wish you were as certain as she is. There’s definitely something otherworldly about Jeon Wonwoo, and one of these days, you’re going to put your finger on exactly what is different about him from any other man you’ve ever met. 

Four:

Wonwoo is standing by his window, examining the necklace in his hand. It’s such a simple little thing, but there’s so much energy tied to it. Wonwoo can see the dark aura- a tie to a past that it’s clear you’d rather forget.

Usually, Wonwoo collects items with soul ties. Family heirlooms are the easiest, as they’re connected to multiple people in different generations. When one of those people with a soul connection to the item dies, Wonwoo deams if they’re a worthy enough spirit to take as payment for his favours.

In Hwasa’s case, both of her grandparents had died recently. The grandmother had gone first, followed quickly by the grandfather, and it was the older male that Wonwoo had chosen to take for himself. His soul had been dark, a signifier of the evil in his heart when he’d been on earth.

For a demon, Wonwoo actually likes humans. He only accepts contracts that allow him to collect on bad souls, souls that he deems worthy of eternal damnation. 

Many of his kind have asked him why he’d chosen a university to call home, and in simple terms, it’s because at heart, Wonwoo has an erudite flecked soul. He loves learning, more than he’s ever loved being a demon.

He got to a point in his life where he figured, if he was going to be around forever, he might as well learn everything.

Besides all that, university is easy, students come to him, he hardly had to do any work. Students are always anxious, always busy and in need of support to get work done. They hardly think of the heirloom they pawned off to a frat boy in return for an essay or a test- and since Wonwoo waits for natural deaths to collect the souls tied to the items, there’s no harm no fowl.

With all of this being said, Wonwoo’s not used to taking an item like yours. There are only two souls tied to it, your own, and your ex boyfriend’s… Wonwoo knows which one he’ll collect.

He’s not sure why he feels protective of you… there’s just something in your aura that calls to him, something he can’t explain. 

He knows that this job will be different, in more ways than one, but something inside of Wonwoo is ready for the change, after all,  it’s been a very long time coming.

Five:

“You’re back,” Jeonghan muses when he opens the door to the frat for you. “That’s a first.”

“Hi,” you say meekly, forcing a smile. You’re still not sure how you feel about any of this, and knowing that what Wonwoo’s doing with you is unusual doesn’t help ease your anxieties.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Jeonghan sighs, opening the door wider so you can pass. As you move by him, a hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “He’s never cooked for anyone, so, just keep that in mind.”

God, these men are so odd-

You find Wonwoo in the kitchen, his back to you. He’s in a black t-shirt and it stretches tight across his broad shoulders. His curls are a little messy, as if he’s been sleeping, and when he turns to you, you find he’s not wearing his glasses.

Why is he just as pretty without glasses as he is with glasses?

This feels unfair. This feels like- well, it shouldn’t be legal, for starters.

“Hey.” Wonwoo flashes you a smile and you just about melt. You can feel your skin heating, and you hate how your body betrays you, betrays the inner lustings that take over every time you look at this nerdy hot frat boy.

“Hi,” you respond, feeling like a complete idiot as you approach Wonwoo.

“You hungry?” He looks down at the pan in front of him. “I’ve been making steak and eggs.”

“Actually, I’m really just here about the essay,” you try to explain.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo focuses on the sunny side up egg he’s making, “Give me one sec.”

You watch him finish up his meal. You’re not used to watching a man cook, and you're surprised at how skilled he is. There’s something very attractive about the way he shovels the egg out of the pan, adding it to his plate with the finished steak. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Wonwoo leads you back up to his room. He takes a seat at his work table. “You can go on the bed,” he suggests, cutting open an egg. You watch the orange yolk drip, the way he scoops some up with steak.

He’s way too attractive. 

“You sure you don’t want any?” he asks. “It’s perfectly medium rare.”

“A little too rare for me,” you admit, immediately realizing your mistake. “It looks amazing, sorry, I’m just not hungry.” 

“Sounds good. So let's talk your essay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve decided I’m not going to write it for you.”

“What?” It feels like the air is knocked out of your chest, and you stare at Wonwoo in confusion. “But uh… you took my necklace, and you wrote Hwasa’s essay-”

“It’s busy season.” Wonwoo waves his fork around absentmindedly. “The deal is, you come here, we work together, and when you need help, I’ll help. When you need a final edit, I’ll final edit.”

“Uh…” Your mind is spinning. “If you’re not going to help, I can really just do it myself.”

“I think we both know my help will be important,” Wonwoo points out. “Look, you’re a good girl. Don’t you want to feel like you did it yourself? When you came here the first time, I noticed you were hesitant, I don’t think this is something you’re used to doing.”

“I’m not,” you admit, shocked at his ability to read you. 

“With a five thousand word count, this will only take two or three hard study sessions top, in fact, since I have my steak and eggs, we can start now.”

“I didn’t even bring my book-”

“I’ve got a copy right here.” Wonwoo spins his chair, reaching for his bookshelf. He pulls out a worn version of Frankenstein, handing it to you. “I’ve got notes in here, if you want to flip through it, I’m sure you’ll find something to inspire your essay.”

You take a deep breath.

Should you do this? Should you sit here and study with him? What was the point of giving him your necklace if he’s not going to write it for you?

“You’ll keep me on track?” you ask.

Wonwoo offers you a lopsided grin. “Uh huh.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Six:

It’s your second session with Wonwoo. You’ve been carrying his version of Frankenstein around like a bible- the notes, carefully hand written into the margins, are so insightful and inspiring. At this point, you’ve reread the whole book just to get a chance to understand Wonwoo’s musings on every page.

You feel alight with determination, and your thoughts feel focused- you’re as focused with Wonwoo as you’ve ever been, which feels odd given how distracting he is.

It’s intimate in a way, to be so close to him, doing your own work while sharing a space-

Your phone buzzes, breaking your concentration.

Wonwoo looks up at you, pausing his reading. “Who’s that, your boyfriend?”

You let out a small laugh. “Just Hwasa checking in on me to make sure I’m okay with our tutoring session, you’ve got a reputation you know.”

“Do I?” Wonwoo grins, resting his book on his abdomen. 

“Uh huh, people say you’re a demon or something. Apparently coming here for help with school is a deal with the devil.” 

Wonwoo laughs. “That’s definitely a theory. What do you think?”

“At the moment, I’m not quite sure,” you admit. “All I know is, you’re helping me with this essay, and that’s what matters.”

“You know how you can check if I’m a demon?” Wonwoo asks.

“How?”

“Come touch my head, see if there are any horns.” 

Wonwoo is giving you a challenging look, and for some reason, you can’t resist.

You put your laptop to the side, sitting up. “Really?”

“Like I said, only one way to find out if I’m a demon.”

You move toward him, standing off the bed to approach where he’s seated at his desk. “Honestly… maybe this isn’t the best idea. I trust you, I don’t have to feel your head for horns.”

“I really wish you would though,” Wonwoo counters, and there’s a serious edge to his tone. His eyes are bright, looking up at you. It’s like you’re suspended in time and space, staring at each other, holding your breaths.

You reach toward his head, in the back of your mind, you’re worried he might bite you- but Wonwoo stays perfectly still. He watches your every movement, and soon, your fingers are smoothing through his curls.

Wonwoo holds back a groan at the feeling of your touch. He wants to lean in toward you, but doesn’t want to scare you off. It’s clear to him from your body language that you’re as hesitant about this as you had been when you’d first come to him for help with your essay.

You’re so soft, so pure, and he loves it.

He can hear your heart beginning to thunder in your chest as you smooth around his head, searching for horns.

God, humans are so gullible, but it’s adorable when it’s you being this way.

“Okay, no horns,” you confirm, tearing your hand back like you’ve just been burned.

You turn away, returning to his bed, and Wonwoo can practically feel the heat coming off of you. 

“Get back to work,” he says softly, loving the way he gets to sneak looks at you while you’re deep in thought. 

This arrangement is too perfect- Wonwoo hates that it will soon be coming to an end. You’ve been very productive, and as much as he’d like to take credit for it, it’s your own doing.

In some odd way, he’s proud of you, and it’s a feeling he’s never quite experienced before. 

Seven:

You can’t believe it’s your final session with your ‘tutor’. The amount you’ve gotten done in two separate days with Wonwoo is ridiculous- 

He’s your lucky charm, and it’s odd how much someone can come to mean to you in such a short time.

“Okay,” you sigh, finishing your last line of work. “I’m done.”

“Time for edits then,” Wonwoo responds, slotting a bookmark into what he’s reading before descarding the novel on his sidetable. He approaches you, sitting onto the bed. He’s so close that you can feel his shoulder against yours. He’s so warm, in the best of ways.

He’s reading over your shoulder, and you can feel his breath on your skin. God, this closeness is doing something to you- your pussy is actually beginning to throb, and it’s becoming uncomfortable. 

“Here.” You hand your laptop over to him, watching anxiously as he begins to read your essay from the top.

You’re so focused on him- each second feels like an eternity as he makes his way through your writing, discussing small edits with you as he goes through it. 

“This is good,” Wonwoo muses, making it all the way to the end. “You did really well, and with two days to spare. I’m proud of you.”

“Guess I don’t have to be stressed for Halloween,” you grin, releasing a deep breath.

“Speaking of, do you have any plans?”

“I haven’t even thought that far ahead,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, if nothing else, we throw a great frat party, you’re more than welcome to come.”

“You know what?” You stretch your arms above your head, releasing a deep breath. “I might just stop by.” 

Eight:

Wonwoo’s walking through campus when he senses something- and that something can only ever be you. He’s become accustomed to your aura, and his gaze immediately finds you, heading across the green with a friend by your side.

Your eyes meet, and Wonwoo flashes you a smile, not expecting anything to come of it.

He’s surprised when you approach, calling his name. “Wonwoo! Oh my gosh, hi!”

“Hey,” he grins, stopping in his tracks to give you a once over. He wishes he could be more subtle about his attraction to you, but by the way you take him in, it’s clear that it’s not something that’s one sided. 

“Yeji, this is the tutor I was telling you about! He helped me finish my essay in three sessions.”

“It was really more like two,” Wonwoo corrects you, then his eyes find your friend. “She did all the work, believe me.”

“Yeah, after I read your notes on the book,” you grin. “He’s not even an English major, but he picks up more details in novels than I ever could.”

Wonwoo’s not used to compliments like this, especially not from pretty girls. Most just accept his work and figure their payment was a job well done enough. He doesn’t even know how to respond, and for a demon of his age, this sort of thing never happens.

You’re so pure and sweet- God, he likes you so much. But there’s something beneath the attraction, there’s a want- a want to corrupt you, a want to see how far you’ll go for him, how dirty you’ll be just for him. 

“Are you two coming to the party tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks, finding a way to divert the attention away from himself.

You and Yeji exchange a look, and it’s your friend who nods. “We’ll be there.” 

Nine:

You don’t go to frats often, but your attraction to Wonwoo drives you through the front doors of the packed house. Everyone is dressed accordingly, and you take a moment just to appreciate the ambiance. Sure, it’s sweaty, and overwhelming, and the flashing lights are a bit much, but it feels like a community, in some sort of odd way.

You’re heading through the crowd of bodies with Hwasa when someone grabs your arm, and you’re shocked to find Jeonghan standing there. He’s dressed as a zombie of some sort, and despite the fake grime on his face, he’s still very handsome.

“Hey, repeat offender,” he grins, leaning close so you can hear him over the loud music.

“Repeat offender?” you ask.

“Yeah, you’re Wonwoo’s chick now, our little repeat offender.” He’s charming, in an interesting sort of way. “Bet you’re looking for him.”

“Is he around?”

“He’s the dickhead in the oni mask, making a drink in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” 

You follow Jeonghan’s directions, approaching the kitchen. It’s as full of bodies as you’ve ever seen it, but despite that, finding Wonwoo is easy.

He’s tall, and even with his back to you, you’d recougnize his shoulders anywhere.

“So how are you doing this?” Hwasa asks.

“I’m just going to go talk to him.”

“Do you need backup?”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo again, and you find a smile appearing on your face. “Honestly, I think I’ll be alright.”

“If you need anything, just scream ‘hamburger’.”

“Why?”

“It’s my safe word,” Hwasa teases, flashing you a wink before she disappears into the crowd of people dancing.

You take a deep breath, mustering your courage to approach the hot nerd. 

You move toward him slowly, coming to a stop at his side. You don’t even have to say anything, he notices you immediately, turning to assess you.

His handsome face is covered with an oni mask, and it’s a little more frightening than you’d been anticipating, especially with his wild dark curls. Oni are Japanese demons, it has horns and fangs-

“Hi,” he says, and you can hardly hear him from under the mask.

“You’re really leaning into the whole demon thing, aren’t you?” you force a laugh. 

You hear Wonwoo chuckle, and then he’s pulling the oni mask off. “Are you more comfortable now?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “Actually, I think I’d also be more comfortable with a drink.”

“How much have you had already?”

“Just had a bit of a pre with Hwasa, why?”

“I guess…” he faces you, crossing his large arms over his broad chest, “when I make a move on you tonight, since our arrangement is done, I want to make sure you reciprocate, sound of mind.”

You look up at him in shock, unable to find any words with which to respond.

Wonwoo grins when you remain dumbfounded for a few seconds. “You’re cute.”

“I am?”

“More than you realize.”

“And you’re… you’re going to make a move on me?” 

“Was thinking about it.”

“What would the move look like?”

“Should I tell you? Or would you rather I show you?” 

God, why is he so hot? Why does he always know what to say? And why does his smirk look extra sexy with his slightly pointed canines? Why haven’t you realized his teeth were pointy before? You suppose he doesn’t smile enough for you to have picked up on details, but now, you’re looking at him, unhindered by shyness and limits of a tutor/semi-student relationship.

Wonwoo pulls you closer by your hips, staring down at you. “I’m going to need a verbal answer, Sweetheart.”

“Show me,” you tell him.

Wonwoo’s grin widens, and one of his hands moves from your hip to your cheek, cupping your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone, and it’s such a loving motion- it’s as if the entire frat party disappears around you. You’re so focused on him that you can hardly breathe.

Wonwoo moves closer, and you an feel his breath on your face. His lips are incredibly close, so close you could kiss him yourself- but you stay frozen, waiting on him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Wonwoo asks teasingly.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

He chuckles, and then, he presses his lips to your own, cradling you even closer with the hand on your cheek. His other palm finds the small of your back, tugging you to his chest. You find your grip going to his shoulders, exploring the muscles you’ve been thirsting over.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open wider to accept him in, a small groan slipping out of you.

God, he’s such a good kisser- you’re completely lost in him.

In the periphery, music is thrumming through you, but it’s muffled, disappearing as you fall deeper under the spell of Wonwoo’s kiss.

Things are getting hot and heavy fast, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be embarrassed that you’re making out with Wonwoo while surrounded by people, besides, something tells you they won’t care.

You can feel something on your lower abdomen, a pressure- and you realize that just kissing you has made Wonwoo hard in his jeans.

Your pussy throbs, so turned on that you can hardly breathe. You break the kiss, gasping. “Your room?”

“Not right now,” comes his immediate response.

“What?” You can’t help the way you feel crushed at the rejection-

“Not with the party,” Wonwoo clarifies. “I want to take my time with you, want you to be comfortable- having people fucking around outside my room while I’m exploring you isn’t my idea of a great first time.”

“That actually makes sense,” you concede.

“But… I’m okay to keep doing this,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then his mouth begins to move down to your throat, his tongue tasting your sweet spot. 

You release a moan, wrapping your arms around the tall nerd. “Yeah, we can keep doing this.”

Ten:

Wonwoo carefully walks to the kitchen, avoiding spilled liquor on the floor from the party the night before. He’s so focused on his footsteps that he almost doesn’t notice Jeonghan’s aura until he’s right next to him.

The frat boy is sitting on the kitchen counter, eating his cereal. “So…” Jeonghan muses with a grin, “that girl, huh?”

“What girl?” Wonwoo sighs.

Jeonghan scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes. “The one you were making out with at the party for hours. You know, the one that keeps coming here for ‘tutoring.’”

“I helped her with an essay.”

“Sure you did.” Jeonghan pushes off the kitchen counter. “It’s cute, our resident demon has a heart.”

Wonwoo freezes, realizing that Jeonghan might be onto something, but he’ll never admit it out loud. “No, I don’t.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

Eleven:

“Well look who it is,” Jeonghan grins as he opens the door to the frat. You wonder why it’s always him, why no one else is ever hanging around the living room, but you decide it’s best not to dwell on it.

“Hi,” you smile softly.

“Guessing you know where to go,” Jeonghan muses, opening the door wider so you can enter.

With one more nod to the frat boy, you make your way to Wonwoo’s room.

You knock on the door, and like the very first time you’d been here, it swings open with ease. Wonwoo’s sitting on his bed, a book in his hands. He’s wearing his glasses, and he looks so sexy like this, so domestic-

“Happy November,” Wonwoo says. 

You laugh. “Happy November.” You close the door behind yourself, standing there awkwardly. You know what you’re here for, know what you want from him now that your essay is complete- “You’re not practicing, you know, No Nut November, or anything, are you?”

Wonwoo laughs, setting his book down on his bedside table along with his glasses. “No, I’m not practicing No Nut November.”

“Good.”

Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Get over here.”

You make your way to the bed, sitting carefully next to him. “What were you reading?”

“Dante’s Inferno,” he responds casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be reading poetry from the thirteen hundreds. 

“Wow,” you laugh, “that definitely pushes the whole demon angle.”

“I’m a deal maker, Sweetheart, the whole demon thing is overdone.” He wraps his arm around you, prompting you to cuddle up to his chest.

“And yet, your door opens on its own,” you point out. 

“And?”

“As crazy as this sounds…” you take a deep breath, “I guess I’m wondering if there’s any… legitimacy to the whole demon thing.”

“How would you feel if there was?” he counters.

“I suppose I wouldn’t believe it, not really.”

“Then what’s the point in asking?”

“Maybe there’s no point.” You look up at him, marveling at his handsome features.

“So kiss me and forget about it,” he prompts, his fingers finding the bottom of your chin and making you look up at him. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile, closing the gap between your lips. 

He holds you tighter as your lips mesh, half pulling you onto his chest as his tongue explores your own. God, he still feels so good- part of you had wondered if you’d been a little tipsy the last time you kissed him, and that’s why it had felt so good- but no, this is just Wonwoo, this is just the power he has over you.

You adjust so you’re straddling him, his hands finding your hips to encourage you while you cup his face, enjoying the feeling.

You begin to wiggle, grinding down softly onto him. His cock is already hardening in his sweatpants- you love how easy it is to turn him on. It does wonders for your ego as you dry hump him, beginning to moan at the sensation on your clit.

You’re not usually this type of person, not the mega-sexual, but something about Wonwoo is making you feral. It helps that you both know why you’re here- helps that he’d rescheduled this fuck session so you wouldn’t be having your first time with a wild Halloween rager just outside his door.

Things are just comfortable with him, it’s clear you’re both extremely attracted to each other, and that turns you on even more.

One of his hands begins to glide up from your waist, skimming the underwire of your bra. You move his palm even further up, so he’s grasping your breast, and he squeezes deliciously, earning a soft moan from your lips.

Wonwoo grins into your kiss, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, forcing you even closer as he massages your chest.

You grind harder onto his cock, loving the feeling-

One flip has Wonwoo on top of you, and you whimper at the change in power dynamics. He moves his hips fluidly, applying more pressure to your already throbbing clit-

Wonwoo pulls away from your throat, looking down at you with dark eyes. “So do I need to grab a condom, Sweetheart?” 

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him. “Are you clean?”

“I’m clean, are you?”

“Yeah.” You lean closer, eagerly pressing your lips to his again. You’re so lost in him, nothing else matters.

Wonwoo’s hands begin to explore you again, and then he pulls away to tug on your shirt. “Off.”

You sit up, removing the fabric, exposing your bra to him.

Wonwoo looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so pretty, Sweetheart.” His fingers tease the strap of your bra. “How’d a pretty little thing like you ever find your way to me?”

“The essay-”

“You’re so innocent though, I could tell from the moment I met you. You wouldn’t have come to me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“No, I don’t cheat.”

“And you still don’t, you did the whole essay yourself.”

“With help from you,” you blush. 

“No, Sweetheart, it was all you.” Wonwoo kisses you again, shutting up any argument you have about using his notes. 

He makes you feel so good- it’s such a safe space, and it’s the type of situation you’re not used to. The lack of judgement, the complete support- it helps you relax, helps you get even further lost in his kiss as you make out, the both of you wriggling and grinding against each other. You love the feeling of his body, the feeling of being here with him, completely enraptured mind and soul.

Wonwoo’s lips trail down to your throat, and he begins to descend. He reaches your chest, and you breathe heavily, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his lips.

His fingers hook in the cup of your bra, and he pauses to look up at you, as if he’s asking for your permission. “Do it,” you tell him, trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo grins, pulling your bra down so he can access your tits fully. His tongue flicks at your sensitive nipple, and you groan at the sensation, arching your back to push your chest closer to his face.

Wonwoo’s lips suction around the sensitive bud next, and God, it feels amazing. 

Your pussy is practically throbbing- can women cum from breast stimulus alone? You might find out if he keeps this up.

His hands cup your tits, pushing them together, and then he begins to lick at both of your nipples, switching from one to the other in a pace that has you grabbing his hair, whimpering in desperation.

You feel like you’re on fire- you feel alive, writhing on this hot nerd’s bed. It feels dirty, but it feels so right too.

He continues on your breasts for a short while, until you’re good and needy, then he makes his way to your jeans. 

“I want you naked,” he tells you.

“Then get me naked,” you counter, still breathless.

With a wink, Wonwoo pulls your jeans down, and you work on your bra. Soon, you’re completely naked from him, and unlike other times you’ve gotten with men, you don’t feel an ounce of shame. 

This feels so right, and as Wonwoo begins kissing up your thighs, prompting your legs open, you just know that sex is never going to be the same. 

Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours as he takes a lick of your pussy, and you both groan. His lips suction around your clit and your muscles spasm. He pulls away with a grin, breath hot on your aching core. “So wet already,” he muses.

“I need you,” you whimper.

“You have me,” he promises, diving back into your heat.

He doesn’t hold anything back. He eats you like you’re the most delicious fruit in the world, like your pussy juices are a nectar he needs for life itself.

You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you’re a little shocked at the speed of all of this, however, you suppose the foreplay had done a number on you as well.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, abdomen tensing.

“Cum for me,” he breathes heavily against your clit. “Want you to cum on my tongue.” 

His lips wrap around your clit again, and two more harsh sucks are all it takes to send you over the edge. You gasp desperately, entire body tensing before the moment of your release.

Hot waves of pleasure erupt over your form, all consuming. You can hardly breathe, can only gasp in ecstasy as he works you through your high.

You’re not sure how long your orgasm lasts, only that you’re out of breath and brain dead by the time Wonwoo pulls away.

You can hardly open your eyes to look up at him as he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are so full of lust- and for the first time, he looks truly demonic. But you’re not scared, you’re intrigued, in the best possible way.

“Fuck me,” you tell him quietly.

Wonwoo grins, and his canines flash in the light. “You got it, Sweetheart.”

He grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it off his head to reveal chiseled chest muscles. He’s got more of a sleeper build- the kind of guy you wouldn’t expect to be muscled, except that under layers of fabric, he’s actually sculpted by the Gods.

You can hardly breathe as he pulls his sweatpants down, and you’re practically drooling by the time he gets back on top of you, his lips hot against your own.

You cup the back of his neck, kissing him desperately, wiggling your hips, eager for stimulation.

Wonwoo concedes, rutting so his cock drags through your drenched pussy lips.

Neither of you say anything, you keep lip locked as he finally pushes into you. You both release gasps of pleasure, breathing the kiss to press your foreheads together as he sheaths further inside of you.

You open your eyes, looking up at Wonwoo, who meets your gaze with a fierceness that sets your insides on fire. 

He’s so beautiful- you’d checked his head for horns, but you can almost see an outline of demonic features- you must be dreaming, must be so lost in him that you’re seeing things. You close your eyes, drawing your lips to his again as he begins to fuck you.

Each thrust his hard, the tip of his long cock kissing your cervix. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but the feeling becomes pleasurable much too quickly. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, clawing at his broad shoulders.

“You feel so good,” he tells you.

“No, your cock feels good,” you correct him.

“Agree,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “to disagree.”

You laugh, and Wonwoo groans at the way your giggle makes your muscles clench even tighter around his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, taking a deep breath. 

He pulls away suddenly, and he flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips to lift you into the air. He positions your knees together, so you’re in doggy, and then he pushes himself back into your aching hole.

Shit- things feel even tighter in this positon, and you claw at his bed, burying your face in his duvet as he plows into you. His grip is rough on your hips, but you don’t even care- if Wonwoo continues to give you cock like this, he could do anything he wanted to you, any position, and you wouldn’t mind.

Each snap of his hips sends the sound of skin on skin through his room, but that’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned about the fact that you can feel another orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, and your pussy is clenching even tighter around him now.

“You’re close again, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper.

“Rub your clit for me,”  he instructs. “Wanna feel it.”

You adjust, bringing your fingers to your sensitive bud. You begin to stoke yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you crying out as he rails into you.

Wonwoo shifts, bringing one knee up so his foot is flat on the bed, giving himself better manueverabilty to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing your hips. “Make me cum.”

The knowledge that your high will set off his own makes you even more eager to please him, and you rub your clit even harder, whimpering desperately. 

Wonwoo lets out a grunt, and the sound is music to your ears. How is he so sexy? When did a man grunting become sexy? 

Fuck, you work yourself even harder, and Wonwoo matches your enthusiasm with his thrusts, his hands pulling your hips back to meet him with each motion.

“I’m close-” you tell him, your pussy gripping him so hard-

“Let go for me,” he responds. “Need to feel it.”

A few more circular motions on your clit has you exploding, a loud whimper escaping your lips as your pussy clamps down hard on his cock. Your entire body is alight, muscles working overtime as you contract around him.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls, his pace faltering as he cums inside you, filling you with a warmth that makes you spasm beneath him. 

You continue to moan as he fucks you through your highs until you’re both breathless. You can feel him breathing on your back, can feel each puff-

Your own chest is heaving with effort, your eyes closed as the last inklings of euphoria sparkle through you.

Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your hips gently, and neither of you have anything to say as you recuperate.

Finally, Wonwoo gently traces your spine with a finger. “I’m going to pull out,” he tells you. “Grab you a tissue.”

“Okay.” You nod against his bed, still too blurry from your orgasm to think too hard about anything.

The loss of his cock from your aching hole is one you feel everywhere, and you whimper, cupping your pussy to stop any cum from dripping onto his bed.

Wonwoo returns quickly, moving your hand so he can press tissue to your core. “Give it a sec, and when you’re ready we can put on some clothes and head to the bathroom.”

You stay on your knees for a few more seconds before mustering your energy. When you’re finally able to stand, Wonwoo helps you up. He pulls sweatpants up your legs, followed by a hoodie to cover your bare chest.

Then, he takes your hand, guiding you to the bathroom where you both clean up.

Everything is a blur until you get back to his bedroom, where you collapse onto the mattress against his chest, eyes closed.

Wonwoo’s hand smooths up and down your arm. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you respond.

“I’ve gotta tell you something.”

You can hear the seriousness in his tone, and you force your eyes open, looking up at him questioningly.

“I was going to wait-” Wonwoo admits, “it’s something I’ve never told anyone, not in so many words at least.” You wait for him to continue. “The whole demon thing… there’s some truth to it.”

“But… I checked for horns?” you say, confused.

“We don’t have horns, Sweetheart. We’re deal makers. You gave me your necklace, it has a soultie to your ex, one day, I’m going to drag that asshole to hell.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. “Sure you are, Wonwoo.”

“You don’t believe me,” he muses, lifting your hand so he can kiss your knuckles gently.

“I told you I wouldn’t, so what does it even matter?”

“I just wanted to start things right,” he confesses. “Wanted to do this right.” 

“This?” you counter, grinning up at him.

“Us. I want to give it a shot, if you’re interested.”

“I’m more than interested,” you admit. “But… I think, right now, I just need a little sleep.”

“Then sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and with a smile and a deep breath, you finding yourself drifting into the most blissful sleep of your life. Demon or not, Wonwoo makes you feel protected, and that’s not something you’ll ever take lightly.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love Wonwoo!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “You look so good like this, Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Being so good for me, so corruptible-” He has a bit of a corruption kink, but he’s never forced it on you. No, he’d shown you his toys, and allowed you to choose the pace on everything. You feel so comfortable with him, and it allows you to fully connect with yourself and your pleasure.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of sex toys, flogger, vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, breast worship, nipple clamps, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praise, soft dom Wonwoo, fingering, slight pain kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) Sweetheart. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a few months of dating Wonwoo, and you’ve realized the whole demon thing is completely real. It was an adjustment at first, but he’d explained everything about it. There are certain demons who do the darker stuff, but Wonwoo truly considers himself a deal maker above all else. He doesn’t kill, even though, with his power, he could.

No, he’s a mellow demon, if there is such a thing. 

It’s an opposites attract type of situation, and Wonwoo’s spent countless nights admiring your aura, discussing what it is exactly that makes you the light Yin to his dark Yang. He loves you for all of your differences, and you’ve never felt more comfortable with a person- or, should you say, demon.

He’s an ageless man with a thirst for knowledge, and you’re so attracted to his deep understanding of all things literate or scientific. You find yourself constantly learning new knowledge from him, and every day you spend together is a dream you never could have even wished for.

Aside from all the educational learning experiences you have with Wonwoo, you’ve also begun to explore his sexual knowledge, and it’s a journey you never thought you’d find yourself on.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.2k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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[suiana]

yandere! priest and gn! succubus/incubus guys... omg...

he's a devoted little thing, so passionate to his religion and his god. his mind and heart are pure, never straying from his faith even when the most beautiful of people had thrown themselves at him.

and then you came stumbling right into his life.

you, a sex demon. all skimpy clothes, flirty and giving him bedroom eyes in a church. it was even worse that you had thrown yourself at him on your first meeting, clinging to his arm like some clingy lover.

"hey pretty boy~ wanna show me a good time?"

"the only good time i have is when I'm thinking of my god. do you want to join a sermon?"

maybe it was because he was so holy but he wasn't repulsed by you. flashing you a gentle smile as he allowed you to cling to him. oh, a sinner. how pitiful. it's no matter, if you repent enough and ask for forgiveness, he's sure that even god will accept you. he'll help you find the right path that is god. you've fallen right into his arms after all. it must be fate and perhaps he was meant to help you.

you don't quite share the same sentiment though.

you just wanna fuck that priest. his cute face, sweet little laughter... devil below you want that man. plus you hadn't fed in days... you're practically starving over here!

"come on... just some head? i bet your pretty mouth could be out to better use than some sermons."

"yes, a better use would be when I'm holding your hand and bringing you to the light of salvation."

he's always so calm and composed. all smiles and a calm demeanour that never exposes what he's feeling. even his eyes are smiling, damn. it's a bit scary that you can't accurately tell what he's feeling. the only thing you have is the slightly obsessive and unsettling darkness his eyes seem to contain. nah, can't be anything much. he's just a priest who wants to play hard to get.

it's infuriating, you think.

you continue to hold on a little longer. maybe he'll crack sooner or later? he's just a man after all... and you're a gorgeous thing meant for temptation... he'll give in right? right? you continue pestering him, clinging to his side as you ignore the horrified looks the other clerics and church goers give you as you beg for the monstrous dick you know he's packing.

but he doesn't show any signs of budging and you eventually try leaving because you're so starved that it hurts. like damn! you still need to feed! and if he's not gonna give it to you, you'll just find someone else!

however...

"where do you think you're doing?"

"huh? priesty boy? you following me?"

"yes."

"???"

you're confused as he practically rips you off of the random guy you picked off the street, dragging you back to the church with him. and all while he continued to smile at you like he always has. only this time, this smile harboured some... ill intent.

"oi at least tell me what you're doing-"

"i am going to punish you."

"punish?"

he stops in his tracks, turning to smile at you as hus grip around your wrist tightens painfully. you wince at the force he's using, desperately trying to tug your hand away. what the hell?

the priest doesn't let you. if anything, his grip only tightened even more. what's worse is that he's now punning you to the wall, caging you in as he stares down deep into your soul with his deep and unnerving eyes.

"yes, punish."

he continues to smile at you, simply caging you against the wall before his voice drops.

"it's the job of a priest to guide newcomers to repentance and i intend to do that with you. yet, you've almost committed an act of sin. i cannot allow that to pass, my dear."

what the- what is he doing?!

"you'll understand once I'm done with you. after all, the god above has personally given you to me as a mission and a gift."

he mumbles, leaning into your lips before his smile lowers into a creepy and unsettling smirk. bruh you might be a demon but this guy right here has got to be the devil's spawn or something. what is he yapping about? gift? mission? you just want some dick!

"hey I don't understand-"

"of course you don't. you're confused."

he cuts you off before you can say anything. his face way too close for comfort as you try sinking into the wall. um... you don't think you wanna play anymore...

"it's okay. I'll help you understand. I'll help you understand your true purpose and that is to repent and be born anew."

he pauses, tilting his head before his smile widens unnaturally.

"that way we can actually be together under the eyes of god. you want to copulate, yeah?"

huh? what's sex gotta do with this?

"after you've finally repented, I'll give you what you want. sex is an intimate and special thing between two people in love. don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for you to fall for me."

wait what?!

[arkive78]

One Piece Fic Recs that occupy my mind nonstop

After really getting into One Piece this past spring, I've been reading as much as tumblr and AO3 have offered me in terms of One Piece content. It's been hard to keep track of everything that I have read, however, certain stories/headcanons/posts linger in my mind and I thought I'd share them with you!

Minors DNI with fics marked as NSFW and for anyone, be sure to read the content warnings the authors have mentioned!

Hope y'all enjoy!

Updated: October 1, 2024

Killer

Childhood Crush by @analogwriting

does involve violent themes, please be sure to read content warnings for each chapter

Will You Let Me? by @fanaticsnail

NSFW, Pollen AU

Dreaming of You by @fanaticsnail

this also includes Heat and Kid

NSFW

The Break (Kid x reader x Killer) by @standfucker

Gore, graphic description of injury/pain/first aid, hurt/comfort, confessions, highly oblivious reader

Rotation (Heat, Kid, Killer, Wire x reader) by @standfucker

explicit NSFW content

Loving you is easy by @sheerxfiction

NSFW

Three Times Killer Tried to Confess and The One Time That He Did by @nina-ya

SFW

Acid, Salt, Fat, and Heat (w/ Kid) by @fanaticsnail

NSFW

Ace

SFW:

A world we are both in by @my-love-is-sunlight

Kiss by @my-love-is-sunlight

Patching Up Ace's Wounds by @nina-ya SFW

there are more of this prompt with different characters btw!

Help by @sanjisprincesswifey

Blinders On by @froggiewrites

Taking the hit for him by @grandline-fics

NSFW:

Open Flame by @willowbelle

Ace + back dimples by @tetzoro

Fated Reunions by @tetzoro

Coward by @mimi-ya

Need by @maddddstuff

Ass or Tits? by @cloudzoro

Follow Through by @froggiewrites

My Pretty Little Thief by @turtletaubwrites

Zoro

SFW:

Bloom by @tetzoro

brazen by @mydearlybeloathed

"we should get married" by @grandlinedreams

wake him up! by @sleepymarimo

He Loves Me by @clare-875

Got me losin' my cool by @bitchimasnake-sss

Insomnia: owner's instruction by @revasserium

NSFW:

The Right Direction by @willowbelle

with hearts aligned by @eelnoise

2 years overdue by @heyitsdoe

pumpkin by @cloudzoro

beg for me by @angel1010xx

Waterflow by @otkuhotgirl

Law

SFW:

touch-starved Law by @maroronoa

the death of me by @weneeya

too sweet for me by @my-love-is-sunlight

there are no conditions by @cozage

Hidden symptoms by @escenariosinfumables

Unspoken affections by @avocadorablepirate

NSFW:

Tethered Together by @tetzoro

Luffy

A secret by @missmugiwara

18+, suggestive

SFW:

you can talk to me, but you already know by @mydearlybeloathed

clueless by @grandline-fics

Bachata by @fanaticsnail

Mihawk

Sapsorrow by @fanaticsnail

has both SFW and NSFW so make sure to read the chapter warnings!

Creative Cures by @discordantwritings

NSFW

Shanks

SFW:

Remember Me by @fanaticsnail

Dancando Lambada by @fanaticsnail

NSFW:

Always return to you by @discordantwritings

Sanji

NSFW:

Citrus by @otkuhotgirl

Multiple characters

Hey Doc by @fanaticsnail

some NSFW themes depending on the drabble

so very very funny

The Kissing Booth by @fanaticsnail

Paulie, Luffy, Hongo, Smoker, Aokiji, Heat, Crocodile, Sanji, Shachi, Law, and Zoro (right now)

my favorite ones are: Luffy, Smoker, Heat, Shachi !

Competency, Stupidity, Duality by @fanaticsnail

kid, zoro, and killer

SFW

Post Injury by @standfucker

law, shanks, rosinate, blackbeard, mihawk

gore content warnings

Gremlin Reader by @standfucker

Straw Hats, Whitebeard Pirates, Heart Pirates, and Kid Pirates

literally the funniest fucking thing I've ever read

they hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit by @grandline-fics

zoro, law, shanks

angst, descriptions of injury, and hurt/comfort

Beauty scars by @cozage

law, kidd

borderline NSFW

Truth or Dare by @cozage

Ace, Shanks, Luffy, and Law

SFW + NSFW, the NSFW section is clearly marked by the author

Oblivious flirting by @cozage

Law, Luffy, Ace

SFW

A Plushie Substitute by @cozage

Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Ace, Law

SFW

Five things he says when he thinks you're asleep by @imasimpforshanks

Law, Ace, Shanks

SFW

the moment they knew you were the one by @imasimpforshanks

Luffy, Zoro, Ace, Sanji, Shanks, Law, Sabo

fluff

Falling in love with them by @imasimpforshanks

Ace, Law

SFW

OP to you being clueless to their flirting/feelings part 1 by @astelren

Ace, Luffy, Sabo, Zoro Sanji, Izou, Cavendish, Rayleigh, Law

fluff

there's a part 2!

Being scared to have sex with them by @strawhatsoraya

Zoro, Law, Kid, Ace

obviously NSFW

Calling them my love by @lehguru

Law, Sabo, Ace, Kid, Killer, Bartolomeo

SFW

Kid, Zoro, Law, & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex by @eustasskidagenda

NSFW

there are 2 other parts with different characters!

A celestial dragon wants their fem!s/o by @uramakimochi

Zoro, Sanji, Law

SFW

there's another part too!

Hand placement by @cloudzoro

Ace, Crocodile, Law, Mihawk, Nami, Reiju, Robin, Sanji, Tashigi, Zoro

NSFW

god the ones about the girls are SO GOOD

affectionate + strawhats by @lehguru

SFW

OP boys in a relationship by @moonydustx

SFW

growing old together by @usernameforaboredcat

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

SFW

sobbed

one piece boys rescuing you by @badgerbl00d

law, zoro

sfw

heartstopper by @sleepymarimo

luffy, sanji, zoro, law

sfw

party games they'd play as an excuse to kiss you by @imasimpforshanks

luffy, zoro, nami, ace, law, shanks

sfw

Op characters reacting to you kissing them and running away by @princeoftheeternalbog

luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, robin, usopp, ace, marco, izou, sabo

slightly suggestive, mdni

Number Games by @turtletaubwrites

multi-chapter story with Cross Guild x reader

very NSFW, read the tags very carefully

Random Flirting Headcanons by @feral-artistry

Shanks, Buggy, Sanji, Ace, Law, Zoro

SFW

Here's part 2 with more characters

Jealousy fueled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” by @grandline-fics

Ace, zoro, law, kid, lucci

sfw

Thinkin about: the monster, trio, ace ‘n law! Vs breeding kink! by @bitchimasnake-sss

luffy, zoro, sanji, ace, law

nsfw

Habits of touch by @clare-875

Zoro, sanji, luffy

sfw

Butterflies -- how they realize they have feelings for you (touch edition) with Luffy, Zoro, and Law by @radishaur

luffy, zoro, law

sfw

multiple versions! this one is just my favorite hehe