#whatever ruffles your feathers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

themultifanshipper · 1 day ago

Text

Poker? I hardly know her!

You and Oscar stared at Lando, who was peeling his shirt off before anyone had even put any chips on the table.

Maybe Lando didn't understand the rules of poker after all...

Warnings: Not quite proofread I just needed to get it out of my drafts before people started bringing pitchforks to my house, some of this is insane, i'm warning you, brief poker jargon, fucking on a jet, oral sex, male and female recieving AND giving, canonically bisexual landoscar, a bit of a humiliation kink, strip poker turns dirty very quickly, bad dirty talk, cum, Lando is a TEASE and a WHORE, finger sucking (inspired by something someone actually did to me once)

“Lando why are you taking your shirt off?” Oscar frowned in confusion.

“This is strip poker. You bet your clothes, don't you?” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You'd known Lando a long time, and he was a bit of a dim bulb (affectionate) sometimes.

Oscar you'd only met when he became Lando's teammate, but you got along like a house on fire, and despite you not knowing each other very well, one of your favourite bonding activities was making fun of Lando.

“Lando!” you laughed “that's not how it works. You bet your clothes but you only take them off if you lose”

He looked offended at the implication that he didn't already know that and tried to defend himself, but he had a slight tint of red quickly spreading over his cheeks.

“I knew that! I just think it's better to put my bets on the table is all...”

You and Oscar dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Okay whatever you say, it's not like you'd be keeping it on long anyway” you teased and winked at Oscar.

“Oh fuck off!” he gave you the middle finger before picking up his cards that Oscar had been dealing. “and since when do you play poker? You’ve never mentioned it to me...”

Oscar shrugged, picking up his own cards.

“You know what boarding school is like. There's nothing to do except play poker, and ... uhh...” he trailed off and you looked at him questioningly.

“Well, you know. It's boring” he said quickly, his cheeks going slightly pink as he avoided your gaze.

Lando narrowed his eyes at him. “Yeah, I do know what boarding school is like. But we never played poker”

“Okay what did you play then mister wise guy?” Oscar's tone was off, like he was trying to accuse Lando of something.

Lando's face went blank, and you could tell he was going through the options one by one, not wanting to say any of them out loud.

“I can't remember?” he tried.

Oscar scoffed in disbelief and you decided to intervene.

“Right, are we playing then?”

“Gladly” they both muttered in sync.

You weren't naive. You knew exactly what boys got up to in boarding schools.

You'd been to an all girls boarding school yourself, and had your fair share of... experiences.

But both of them seemed to be a bit embarrassed about theirs as they settled in their seats like big birds that had just gotten their feathers ruffled.

The game went just about as well as expected.

Lando ended up in his boxers after only 3 rounds, while you and Oscar hadn't taken a single item of clothing off.

His nipples pebbled in the cool conditioned air, and you could see goosebumps erupting all over his skin.

Your eyes scanned his thighs briefly and you gulped. They were thick, and he was in tight black boxers that really didn’t leave much to the imagination.

As enticing as the sight was, it didn't help your concentration.

Oscar was once again dealing cards, and you noticed him side-eyeing Lando a couple of times.

“Are you sure you're not cold, mate?”

Lando shivered but didn't relent in his stubbornness.

“No I'm fine. Besides, I am determined to beat at least one of you”

“You'll be fully naked long before that happens” Oscar chuckled but it sounded hollow.

You also forced out a laugh. Lando naked was the last thing you needed right now.

But with an ace and a jack in your hand, how could you possibly lose?

And you were right. Lando could go all in if he wanted to (and he did) but on the table were a king, a queen, and a ten. And he was a terrible bluffer, he was way too cocky.

Oscar had already folded so it was up to you to get Lando's pants off.

You put your cards down face up.

“Sorry mate, I've got a straight” you said in mock- sympathy. “Someone's getting naked and it ain't me”.

You smirked at him.

“Not so fast” Lando tutted at you and showed his cards.

He also had an ace and a jack.

But they were the same colour as the cards on the fucking table. All spades.

He had a royal fucking flush. The highest hand possible.

Oscar gasped softly.

“Well well well, looks like someone else is taking their shirt off!”

You felt your face heat up immediately.

You only had a T-shirt on.

As in, you only had a T-shirt on.

“Ummm...” you flushed and picked at the edge of the table. “about that...”

You looked at Oscar but quickly averted your gaze when your eyes met.

“What's the matter?” he asked curiously.

“let’s just say that if I take my shirt off, Lando won't be the only one with his tits out”

Comprehension dawned on their faces and they both went fully red.

It all became suddenly very real. It was all fun and games until one of had to actually do it.

“Uh- well you don't have to, you can uhh” Oscar stuttered his way through an excuse “you can take your pants off or- or something. Or like just not do it. It's just a game. No pressure to actually get naked”

You looked at Lando and he smirked.

“If you're not uncomfortable with it you can do it if you want. We're all adults here, we've all seen boobs before, no biggie”

You hesitated. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever you're comfortable with!” his voice was weirdly high pitched but he nodded reassuringly.

You worked up the courage and grabbed the bottom of you shirt, slowly lifting it up over your head.

When your vision became unobstructed again, Oscar was staring at a spot on the ceiling, and the Lando's smirk had been wiped clean off his face.

Despite being your best friend for a long time, he'd never seen you topless, even though (and he would never admit this out loud) he'd fantasized about it many times.

You could tell he was struggling to maintain eye contact with you, his eyes glazing over slightly.

You chuckled nervously.

“It's okay you can look. Like you said they're just tits, right?”

Oscar glanced at them quickly, then did a double take and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly and looked away again.

Lando’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but his words died in his throat as he also just stared unblinkingly.

It was objectively quite funny how you'd rendered them both utterly speechless.

After a good thirty seconds though, it started getting a bit too weird.

“Okay this is getting creepy now, do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No!” they answered wayyy too quickly. “Its fine we're just a bit surprised is all”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay horndogs, shall we get back to it, then?”

They nodded almost absentmindedly, and Lando dealt the cards.

“I'm now determined to get Lando naked to take some of the attention off of me, now” you joked lightly and the other two laughed.

The atmosphere became a bit less charged over the course of the next round, but Oscar was seemingly very much off his game suddenly, because he lost two in a row.

In the name of fairness, he took his pants off, and his black hoodie, so he was still left in a T-shirt that thankfully hid the raging boner he was currently trying to make go down with sheer force of will.

He had an almost naked Lando inches away on his right, and a magnificent pair of breasts in front of him.

How was he supposed to concentrate in these conditions? He was living a bisexual's wet dream.

But he was determined to win, so he dealt the cards.

Lando was getting a bit antsy. He was already pretty turned on by the sight of you, but now, he couldn't stop staring at Oscar's thighs.

They were so thick. He wanted to touch them. Maybe give them a lick and a bite.

His fingers twitched on his lap, where he was trying his best to hide the ever growing problem in his underwear, that was unfortunately not covered by a T-shirt.

But he wanted to touch Oscar's thighs. He wanted to feel the thick muscles under his large hands.

“You doing okay there, guys?” you asked.

The two men in front of you were unconsciously squirming in their seats, doing their best (and failing) to not check each other out.

“Yeah, i'll start at 200” Oscar said, taking a single chip from his enormous pile.

It wasn't his turn, but it didn't matter, none of you were truly focusing on the game right now.

“I'll go all in” Lando said, voice cracking.

Oscar sucked in a breath.

“You sure you want to do that? You've only got one chip left”

“Absolutely” the older man said defiantly, his eyes dark as he stared at you.

A shiver ran down your spine. He was going to lose, you could feel it. He was going to lose and he was going to get naked.

“I'll fold” you muttered.

It was all between Oscar and Lando, now.

“I guess it's all in then”

The atmosphere was tense once again as Lando showed his cards first.

Full house. There was no way Oscar hadn't been bluffing.

“I think you're gonna need to take your shirt off mate” he tried to sound cocky but it wasn't very convincing.

A slow smirk took over Oscar's features, and he grinned evilly at Lando.

He slapped his cards down, face up, and the colour drained from Lando's face.

“Four of a kind. Mate”

You glanced down at Lando's boxers.

There was a small wet patch forming at the front.

Looks like being humiliated was getting him going.

You decided to try and save his dignity, but you knew Oscar had also noticed, if the way he was currently looking at Lando like he wanted to eat him, was any indication.

“You don't have to Lando, if you don't want to”

But his mind seemed made up and he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers.

“No it's fine, a bet is bet” he was very red in the face, but true to his word he pulled his underwear off and let it drop to the floor under the table.

You didn't look. You swear you didn't look.

“You can look guys” Lando said, you could hear the cockiness dripping from his words. He knew what he looked like naked.

“Nope, I'm good” you replied. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, nah I'm good. Shall we keep going?” he asked you with a forced smile.

“Yep, deal the cards, then”

Oscar picked up the cards and Lando whined.

“Wait, I wanna keep playing too” he sounded so pathetic. It made your thighs clench together.

And Oscar noticed.

“Lando you don't have anything left to wager. What are you going to bet? Your skin?” he mocked, but Lando didn't miss a beat.

“I’ve got a mouth. And I don't have a gag reflex”

Your jaw dropped and Oscar choked on his spit.

“Jesus, Lando” you breathed.

But the silence that followed was deafening as everyone seemed to be thinking about it.

You looked at Oscar, who looked at Lando, who looked back at you defiantly.

Well, it seemed this game was taking a turn. But you weren't complaining, and neither was Oscar.

“okay” you and Oscar said at the same time.

He dealt the cards, and you had a particularly shit hand so you folded, almost dissapointed that you wouldn't be winning Lando's mouth.

Lando refused to fold, despite having a shit hand as well, so he lost, naturally.

“So uhh... you want to uhm-“ Oscar gestured vaguely in front of him.

You took pity on Oscar. “You going to put your mouth to good use?” you translated for him, and Lando nodded.

“Yup” he chirped, and promptly dropped under the table. He was so eager, you were starting to think he'd planned this all along, and was losing on purpose.

But no, he wasn't that manipulative.

You could barely see what was going on but Lando dragged Oscar's underwear down and groaned.

Then it was Oscar's turn to let out a pathetic little noise as Lando's head sank downwards.

“Lando, fuck-“ he squeezed his eyes shut, the sudden heat of Lando's mouth overwhelming him. “Your mouth, Jesus Christ”

The sight was quite erotic, Oscar fingers threading through Lando's hair as the obscene sounds sounds of his mouth working Oscar's cock filled the cabin.

Oscar looked down at him with a furrowed brow and his mouth open in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You certainly couldn't. Oscar had always seemed quite reserved to you, yet here he was, getting deepthroated by your friend, in front of you.

“God, yeah. Take it. Good boy” he lifted his hips to meet Lando's mouth and Lando moaned wantonly around him.

One of Lando's feet knocked into yours under the table, making you look down.

You gasped in shock. Not at how fucking round and peachy his ass looked, although that was worth noting, no, what turned your world on its axis was the fact that Lando was wearing socks.

The absolute whore.

Turns out he was that manipulative.

“Oscar!” You called, and he looked back up at you with lidded eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Lando's still wearing his fucking socks!”

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he looked down to where Lando's face was red and covered in drool and tears already.

“Lando...” he let out a shuddery moan “If you wanted us to treat you like a little slut, all you had to do was ask.” He cooed, stroking Lando's tears away.

The older man suddenly did something with his tongue that made Oscar throw his head back and tighten his hold in Lando's hair.

“Christ Lando, where did you lean to do that?” he panted, and Lando pulled off of him for a second to reply.

“Boarding school” he rasped, voice hoarse.

You and Oscar chuckled breathlessly. Of course, stupid question, really.

It didn't take Oscar very long to reach his end with how Lando was swallowing around him, throat tightening rythmically.

You were very wet. Rubbing your thighs together wasn't quite enough so you pulled down your own pants and underwear and slid a hand down your body.

The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. You spread your thighs, which caught Oscar's attention, and he gasped and unexpectedly came with a shout down Lando's throat.

Lando, the whore, swallowed every last drop.

His hair was a mess and he turned around, wondering what Oscar was staring so intently at.

The sight of your legs propped up on the table and your fingers pumping in and out of you as your cunt drooled onto the seat made his mouth go very dry.

He crawled over to you under the table and pulled your hand away.

His hungry gaze made your thighs clench, but his large hands came to hold them open as the flat of his tongue licked a long stripe up your soaked folds.

Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair, like Oscar had, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

“Pull it” Oscar said and you glanced at him before doing as he said.

You tugged sharply and the reaction was immediate.

The moan that came from Lando's mouth was downright pornographic, and you grinned, pushing his head down to where you were dripping onto the seat.

He wasted no time lapping up every drop and soon he slid a finger inside you, and then a second one, crooking them upwards and making you see stars.

Turns out Lando wasn't just good with his mouth, his hands were also a goddamn gift to humanity.

By the time you'd stopped shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Oscar was hard again and languidly stroking himself at the sight of you.

Lando stood up, his back cracking after being hunched over for so long.

You properly took him in for the first time. His cock was big, bigger than you'd expected, and his thighs were covered in what you assumed was precum.

You instinctively wrapped a hand around him and swiped your thumb over his tip.

He hissed and batted your hand away.

“I want to see you two fuck” he said, as if that wasn't a totally insane thing to say.

You looked at Oscar, who didn't look opposed to the idea, then back up at Lando.

“What about you?”

He grinned at you mischievously.

“I'm going to watch. And then I'm going to come on those lovely tits of yours”

You blinked up at him and he bent down, sliding a hand under your jaw to tilt your head up.

He stopped, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke.

“It does hurt a bit. But I really, really want to see my teammate fuck my best friend.” He hooked his thumb over your teeth to press on your tongue, opening up your mouth for him.

“And besides...” he continued “I like it when it hurts”

He pulled away, leaving you completely breathless and more soaked than you'd ever been in your life.

He helped you lie down on the table, and Oscar spread your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your slick covered thighs.

He slid himself through your folds, rubbing your clit and you whined pathetically.

He decided not to tease you too much, and slid home in one go, knocking the wind out of you.

You all moaned at the slick sounds coming from where you and Oscar were joined, and he quickly picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours.

Lando may have been good with his mouth and hands, but my god, Oscar knew what to do with his hips. Your g-spot didn’t stand a chance.

His abs flexed with every expert roll of his hips, one of his hands planting itself next to your head to hold himself up, the other wrapping around one of your thighs to pull you back against his thrusts.

Whatever poker chips were left on the table were digging into your back but you could barely feel them, you were high on the feeling of Oscar splitting you open on his cock.

Lando couldn't help himself, he turned your head to the side and tapped your lips with his pointer finger.

“Open up, darling. I want to see what you look like with a mouth full of cock”

Yes the line was pretty cheesy, but you stuck your tongue out anyway, and he grinned as he slid his tip along it. He shuddered at the stimulation, and gave an experimental shallow thrust into your mouth.

“Such a good girl... like you were made for it weren't you? Getting stuffed full of us” his fingers danced along your collarbones and you shuddered at the touch.

“So responsive as well...” he looked at your breasts, heaving and bouncing with the force of Oscar's thrusts. He pinched a nipple harshly and you cried out, voice muffled by his cock. “Would you believe me if I told I've dreamt about these quite a bit...”

You rolled your eyes and gave him the middle finger, but he just grabbed your hand and stuck said finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks at the lewd action, and then he put a second finger in his mouth and shoved them all the way back.

You were going to combust on the spot.

When he pulled his mouth off it with an obscene pop, he looked down at you condescendingly, your mouth still firmly wrapped around his leaking cock.

“Why don't you put those fingers to better use, and make yourself come with them”

You did as you were told and pressed them to your clit, rubbing very slow circles.

Oscar was losing his sanity watching the two of you interact. The bickering, and acting as if he wasn't there, was making him hornier than anything and his hips stuttered as he felt the beginnings of an orgasm creeping up on him.

“Oh come on” Lando drawled, picking up the pace of his own hips “You can do better than that”

You rubbed faster, matching the rythm of his thrusts, and very soon you were thrown over the edge of extasy, back arching and toes curling as you clenched around Oscar.

Lando desperately wanted to hear your pretty moans so he pulled out and finished himself off by hand, on your tits, as promised.

Oscar collapsed on top of you, groaning into your neck as his hips stuttered to a halt, and you could already feel his cum seeping out of you onto the table.

You panted into the now stifling air of the cabin, wondering how the hell you got to this point in your friendship.

Oscar lifted himself off you, and glanced at Lando's cum now smeared over the both of you.

He leaned down and licked a stripe up one of your breasts, over a nipple which made you gasp, and then pulled you in for a filthy kiss.

Fuck it was good. Oscar was a really good kisser apparently. The taste of Lando just added to the depravity of the scene.

Lando felt a tad jealous at that moment. He'd lusted over you for years, and he hadn't even kissed you yet.

You and Oscar parted for breath and you saw the look on Lando's face.

“Oh for god's sake, come here!” you made grabby hands at him and he gladly leant down, capturing your lips in a passion filled embrace, his hands going to cup your face as he deepened it.

The cleanup was a nightmare, but you couldn't walk off the plane naked and covered in cum, so you managed.

You did the best you could with bottles of water and some towels, before getting dressed again, just as the pilot announced he was beginning his descent.

“Well what did we learn today, kids?” you said cheerfully once the three of you were on solid ground “Boarding schools teach you very important life lessons, and Lando-“ you slapped his chest playfully “is much better at poker than he lets on!”

The three of you giggled like children, rolling your suitcases on the tarmac of Nice airport, not hearing the pilot mumbling to himself behind you.

“And I learned today that private jet cabins are no where near soundproof....”

Taglist: @teamnovalak

#my thots #lando thots #oscar thots #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #landoscar smut #landoscar x reader #f1 #formula 1

694 notes · View notes

comatosebunny09 · 2 months ago

Text

preface [ deux ] | sylus

summary: in his haste to find you before the auction begins, sylus uncovers something much more harrowing. and he curses himself for agreeing to let you be bait in the first place.

warnings: violence, minor character deaths, human/sex trafficking, mentions of underaged girls, profanity, allusions to reader’s past as a kidnappee, reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, sylus is mad murderous & an emotional wreck

tagging: @world-of-hearts, @athanasia-day, @falon-fen, @queen-serena88, @karespocketboyfriends, @mrswanel, @readerxyourfave, @sunsets-and-crows, @antonneva

notes: a continuation of this. thank you so much for reading! part 3 can be found here.

now playing: mozart - requiem - lacrimosa

The docks are deceptively quiet tonight.

Nothing seems amiss between the creeks of old wood and the slosh of waves breaking on the pier.

Sylus isn’t convinced of its purity.

Not when the tracker dwarfed in his palm blinks a steady red, signaling to your whereabouts.

He’d followed the signal here after it grew stagnant following an hour of movement away from the city. He waited another 45 agonizing minutes to make his move. Had to be sure he wasn’t being led into a trap and that wherever Fate’s men whisked you off to was where he’d find the others.

He stands on the edge of a weathered connex, the wind ominously ruffling his coat.

He studies the device in his hand. Paints a shadowy figure amid the bokeh of distant city lights glittering behind him. With one hand in his pocket, the composure adorning his features contrasts with the hushed maelstrom brewing beneath his skin.

He holds out his unoccupied hand for Mephisto to perch on, the crow materializing on his wrist as if summoned from thought. Mephisto preens himself, iridescent feathers gleaming in the moonlight. When he’s done, he fixes Sylus with a lifeless, scarlet stare before a holographic image emerges from his eyesight.

It’s a detailed layout of the docks. Metal containers, small, worn ships. For a second, nothing looks abnormal. Yet something stark white and rectangular piques Sylus’ intrigue.

Sylus scrutinizes the shape further before he makes out what it is. A semi-truck inconspicuously parked between stacked connexes. Three dark figures circle around it like wolves. Guards, more than likely armed. Whatever they’re protecting, it must be big.

“Well, that doesn’t look very suspicious at all,” Sylus drawls, scratching Mephisto’s head with appreciative fingers. The crow bows out of existence in a flurry of inky shadows and feathers, having served Sylus well.

He spares another glance at the tracker. The blip of your signal aligns with where the truck resides.

It is then that he decides to make his move.

A smirk tugs on the corner of his lips. It’s been a while since he’s gotten his hands dirty. Had you and the twins for that. The prospect of a good fight makes his fingers twitch, the tips of them sparking with dark red electricity.

In superhero fashion, he pitches himself forward, swallowed by the misty vines of his Evol, as he ascends from the connex at breakneck speed.

You’d make fun of him for being so dramatic; he’s sure of it. He’ll tell you all about his heroic feats when you’re safely tucked back in his penthouse with this night shoved into the furthest reaches of your minds.

He lands on sturdy feet. Insufferably cool as he maneuvers through the maze of cargo containers. The click of his shoes reverberates off damaged metal until he spots what he’s looking for.

The guards have yet to see him. Two of them pace back and forth at the truck’s rear. Another circles its perimeter, two hands on a rifle.

Such meager security for whatever’s housed in that trailer.

He breathes deeply. Fades into obscurity, drawn into the shadows of his Evol, preparing for a sneak attack. He doesn’t need to. Could effortlessly eviscerate the guards with a snap of his fingers. But where’s the fun in that?

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” sighs a disgruntled guard all by his lonesome in the driver seat, hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “What am I, a fuckin’ babysitter?” So caught up in his head, he’s none the wiser to Sylus’ appearance on the passenger side, amused, crimson eyes boring into his skull.

“You’re right,” Sylus replies, his voice abrasive yet cocky. “You don’t get paid enough.”

The driver doesn’t get the luxury of a scream before wispy, handlike tendrils snake around his neck. Bone snaps, followed by a sigh of life drained from cold lips. He dies with terror twisting his features, shepherded into the afterlife by The Boogeyman himself. His head slumps onto his shoulder as his energy flows into Sylus’ body.

“Now, what exactly are you babysitting,” Sylus ponders. The kingpin blinks out of existence again, readying himself to dispatch the other three henchmen.

Sylus doesn’t make a sound as he takes out the guard who’d wandered to the nose of the semi to ensure his cohort was still on the job. The other two, he snuffs out similarly, their blood gurgling in their throats and their bones crackling, music to his ears.

He rolls out the kinks in his neck and shoulders to ward off the stiffness as their life force seeps into his body. It’s been too long since he’s had some fun. Hopefully, this is the most action he’ll see for the night.

His eyes grow intense with concentration when he stares at the worn handles of the truck’s trailer. He burns with anticipation. With something of wariness nestled between. Your signal stops here, steadily buzzing on the tracker in his pocket. He clings to the notion that you’re inside, unscathed and none the worse for wear.

He shuts his eyes, focusing a stretch of energy on the handles. The doors fly off with a deafening screech of metal, sure to draw some unwarranted attention.

Nevertheless, with his hands in his pockets, he waits for the dust to settle. Leaps into the truck trailer with practiced ease, eliciting screams and gasps of varying pitches from within.

None of which sound like yours.

Red emergency lights flicker in the space inside. It reeks of mildew and sweat. Fear. Revulsion.

When the grime completely clears, Sylus makes out dozens of sets of eyes fixed on him. He stiffens. His blood turns ice cold.

Girls of diverse creeds, colors, sizes, and ages cower against the back of the trailer. All from him. He makes out at least 30 of them, crammed in the trailer like cattle awaiting slaughter.

Something in his chest pulls. His lips twitch with the threat of a grimace.

Those sick fucks.

Sylus is no saint. He’s done horrible things to equally deplorable people to increase his reign. To strike fear into those who would oppose him. Challenge his title as Onychinus’ ruler. But he’s never dreamt of doing something as vile as this.

There’s no telling how long Fate had them—these young women, these girls. How long they’ve been emaciated, deprived of food, water, and sunlight.

Sylus bristles as an image of you forms in his mind. A flash of a girl, young like these ones. Terrified yet burning with fury. Revenge rotting your mind, anger warping your tear-stricken features.

Speaking of you, he scans through the girls’ faces in search of yours. He doesn’t find you through their varying degrees of fright. Sucks in a breath through parted lips, his blood running cold.

He cautiously steps further into the trailer, and the girls inside shy away. He holds out a placating hand. Sure, he’s despicable. Terrifying, and the red light highlighting his imposing figure as he nears them doesn’t help matters. But he has to be sure you’re not nestled between them. Playing a cruel joke on him after he spent all this time hunting you down.

The tracker in his pocket vibrates violently. The group of women parts, cowering away from him like he’s something of a sickness. He stops in front of a girl who looks no older than sixteen. Peers down at her, and she shivers, swallowed by your coat. She ducks into the fur, shrouding herself from Sylus’ penetrating gaze.

There’s no mistaking this jacket. Pristine lynx fur.

One of the first he’d bought you when you joined his entourage. A peace offering, a sign of his unyielding protection.

You wore it faithfully like it was your most prized possession. No matter how many more Sylus stocked you with, you never let this particular coat go.

He smooths shaky fingers down the collar. Suddenly sees red when he tugs on the lapel, snatching the girl up, and she shrieks, her feet dangling above the floor. The other women yelp in terror, shrinking away from Sylus’ ire. He must look like a monster to them. As beastly as the men who ripped them from their homes. From freedom. But he doesn’t care as anguish drives him into rage.

It’s rare he loses his cool. But when it comes to you, things just hit differently.

“Where did you get this?” Sylus demands. He’s breathy. There's a manic look in his eyes. He’s desperate. Running out of time. For all he knows, they could’ve already sold you off to the highest bidder.

Or worse.

The girl donning your coat says nothing. Too shell-shocked, her voice corked in her throat. He recognizes the look in her eyes all too quickly. Well acquainted with it, having seen it too often in his enemies before he extinguished them like a candle’s flame.

Gravity comes sinking back in. Sylus scans the space around, the fear in the dank space palpable.

He peers at the girl, at his hand fisted in the coat, disgusted with himself. They’ve already endured so much, and he’s only exacerbating their torment. Gently, he sets the girl down. After her feet return to the floor, something clanks on the wooden boards, and she scurries away. Sylus kneels to retrieve it, the telltale gleam of a crimson gem causing his muscles to tense.

The brooch.

Your brooch.

The tracker.

The fucking—

Fuck!

A tidal wave of grief crashes into him. He squeezes the pendant in his hand, its intricate carvings biting into his fingers. Anguish mars his features. He pinches his eyes shut, curling into himself. The girls cling to the lining of the truck, scared witless.

He tamps down an impulse to scream. Instead punches the wooden floor. Punches and punches until the skin of his knuckles split, and his fist is raw, bleeding red.

You wanted him to find them first. These girls who’d been snatched away from their families, their livelihoods. Sold to deplorable men to do revolting things. To suffer. To die.

To you, this was personal. Sylus fought against using you as bait to draw out the ringleader of this trafficking act. But you wore him down, citing that he owed you this moment of redemption. Why you sought him out all those years ago.

You fucking martyr.

The trailer grows silent. Sylus feels numb as he stands, chest heaving. His fist has already mended itself when he dismounts the truck in a daze, leaving the girls cowering in his wake.

Luke and Kieran, as if sensing their boss’s shock, call him back to the present in his earpiece.

“Boss?” cautions Luke, the radio silence alarming.

“I’ve found them,” Sylus states, his tone grim. Detached. Dejected.

“And the little boss?” Kieran queries, optimism breaking through the static.

Sylus’ silence serves as their answer.

There’s a pause before Luke cryptically disrupts it. “On the way, boss,” he promises before the line cuts dead.

Sylus stares at the ground. Dissociates, starting away from the truck before the sound of merriment catches his ears.

His attention’s drawn to a sizable ship on the opposite side of the pier. It cuts a sleek outline against the horizon, bordered by smaller passenger boats.

He narrows his eyes. Homes in on the ship, exhaling slowly. If he were an auctioneer, he would hold it somewhere in plain sight. Somewhere seemingly innocent that wouldn’t raise any suspicions. What better guise than a party?

Hope spumes through him. Adrenaline. You’re so crafty sometimes, it hurts. The brooch was merely a marker. You knew he’d assemble the pieces the moment you found the others and left your brooch where he could track it.

You could very well be aboard that ship, waiting to be sold off. Waiting to be returned to a life you fled from years ago. He could only hope he was right in his deduction.

Sylus sinks into the vantablack abyss of his Evol, setting course for the cruise ship at the pier's edge. He clings to the idea that you’re onboard, safe and sound, waiting to cuss him out for taking so long to find you.

—

He needed a distraction.

There were too many innocents onboard. Or, so they seemed. He couldn’t glean the difference when he landed on the deck. He had a one-track mind.

A few partygoers eyed him suspiciously. Perhaps he didn’t blend in with his wind-swept hair, harrowed features, and suit stained dark with blood.

Regardless of their intrigued looks, he wended through the crowd. Scanned the scenery, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Anything to signal nefarious dealings taking place aboard the cruise ship. Anything that could lead him to you.

He’d heard whisperings as he descended to the mid-levels of the ship. Hushed tones speaking of meetings for the elite taking place on the lower decks.

He clung to the bits of information he extracted. Pieced them together. Found his way to the kitchen. The staff was clueless to his presence—or they ignored him, too busy whipping up meals for the ship’s guests.

Sylus grabbed who he assumed was the sous chef by the collar. Pinned him with a stare that promised pain if he wasn’t compliant.

The man cowered in his hold. The remaining cooks caught wind of it, shrinking away from Sylus’ imposing, blood-speckled figure. From the malevolence pouring in waves off his skin.

“There’s a fire in the galley,” Sylus stated between the man’s eyes. The sous chef looked at him with pinched brows. Confusion showed through his fear, as nothing was amiss.

Sylus would soon change that.

“I would advise you to start clearing out your staff. Now.” He punctuated his sentence with a growl, tossing the chef back a few paces until he stumbled into his coworkers.

They weren’t moving quick enough for Sylus, so he set his plan in motion. Turned a few knobs with a flicker of his Evol, a fire sparking on the stove. It erupted into something more menacing, the flames licking the ceiling, triggering the sprinkler system.

The kitchen staff finally sprung into action. Hurriedly poured out of the room as the shrill cry of the fire alarm pervaded the air.

With his hair matted to his face and his mouth drawn into a rigid line, Sylus moved further through the kitchen. Descended to the lower floors as people rushed past him, all seeking refuge from the fire.

At least this way, he could wheedle out the scum who’d taken you while sparing the innocent a horrible fate.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus qin #sylus #sylus angst #lads x reader #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #limerence series #lnds x reader #lnds x you #l&ds x reader #lnds fanfic #lads fanfic

561 notes · View notes

lilacs-stars · 5 months ago

Text

burning passion of twilight

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)

A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!

“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt.

Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it.

Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side.

He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more.

Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him.

Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers.

Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions.

The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate.

Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron.

“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”

You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either.

The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”

His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…

“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you.

You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions.

You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.

School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath.

This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.

Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out.

You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.

“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”

There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve.

“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face.

Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”

Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor.

And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides.

He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him.

James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze.

“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back.

“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”

“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”

James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.

“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face.

“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”

At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm.

“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising.

“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”

“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.

Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there.

“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems.

You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours.

You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan.

You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else.

“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you.

“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”

Well, damn it.

You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.

“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice.

“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.

You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”

“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”

His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself.

“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”

You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”

At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”

You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm.

“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”

Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right.

“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”

Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him.

“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run.

Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”

He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James.

Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek.

The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.

You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”

Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”

Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response.

“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall.

People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.

“...fighting…”

“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”

“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”

You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.

“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”

James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.

You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.

You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.

“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.

Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”

James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”

Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”

Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.

“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal.

James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm.

This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight.

You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.

Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…

…directly at James’s head.

A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.

James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on.

With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.

The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.

You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.

“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.

“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.

“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide.

Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.

James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…

…but doesn’t ever reach it.

Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.

“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”

The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.

You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”

A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him.

You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”

“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.

“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”

“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

“Even for dueling Pan?”

You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”

“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”

You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.

“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “Let’s just say, a little birdie told me of how he harassed you in class earlier today. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”

You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.

“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”

“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.

“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.

James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”

You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.

James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap.

You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.

You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.

Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.

The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.

You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.

end x

<- back to part 1

taglist: @maggiecc

just leave a comment if you want to join the taglist!

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

477 notes · View notes

fushiguro-megloomy · 3 days ago

Text

The Dean's Assistant

request: “may I request something where viktor is eating out needy reader (established relationship) 👉👈” tags: afab!reader, oral (f receiving), humiliation kink if you really squint, miláčku = honey wc: 1.9k notes: iiiiii got carried away with this LMAO-

dividers from cafekitsune

You had always been a particularly persistent person, some might even say bordering on arrogance. At least, that’s how others might describe you. Admittedly, it has served you well over the years, helping you climb the academic ladder and often pushing back against regulations in the name of scientific pursuit. You liked to think you simply knew how to charm people—professors, lab partners, anyone who could help you get ahead.

That was, of course, until you met your match. A brilliant mind, quickly flying through the ranks and overtaking you in academic seniority. It ruffled your feathers, to say the least. It didn’t help that he had a way of turning your own tactics against you, leaving you flustered and, on rare occasions, at a complete loss for words.

Even after you’d started dating, it felt like a never-ending game of cat and mouse—though you were never quite sure which of you was the cat and which was the mouse.

You leaned against the doorframe of Heimerdinger’s lab, your arms crossed and an exaggerated pout on your lips. Your boyfriend in question was in a familiar haunch, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled along his reports.

“Viktor,” you called out, your tone bordering on a whine.

“Mm,” he hummed absently, not looking up.

“I’m bored,” you said, stepping closer.

“Then perhaps you should find a hobby,” he replied without missing a beat, his voice dry but laced with a hint of teasing.

“Oh, I have one.” You rounded the workbench, slowly until you were hovering near him. “You.”

That earned you a glance, his lips twitching as he fought a smile. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” You leaned against the edge of the bench, letting your fingers trail over the scattered papers. “And you’ve been very bad at entertaining me lately.”

“I've been busy,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the stack of notes in front of him. “Some of us have responsibilities, you know.”

You scoffed. “I’m just saying you could take a break once in a while. I mean, when’s the last time we…” You trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

He gave you a sideways look, his expression equal parts amused and exasperated. “You are incorrigible.”

“And you are stubborn,” you shot back, your fingers curling around the edge of the bench as you leaned in. “Don’t you miss me?”

His lips parted as if to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance. Instead, you slipped closer, your hand brushing against his thigh. “Come on,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a softer, more coaxing tone. “Just a little break. For me?”

Viktor let out a sigh, his head tilting slightly as he finally set the pen down. “You do not play fair,” he said, his voice tinged with mock disapproval.

“I never claimed to,” you countered, your grin widening as you stepped fully into his space.

He rose to meet you, quick to pull you flush against him. The action caught you off guard, and you let out a surprised squeak as a hand settled firmly on your hip.

“Careful what you wish for, miláčku,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his eyes locked onto yours. “What exactly do you expect me to do? Push you up against the workbench and have my way with you here, in the lab?”

Your breath hitched at the way he said it. “Maybe,” you said, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended.

He chuckled. “Unbelievable.”

“You like it,” you quipped, your hands sliding up to his chest.

He hummed, eyes flickering to your lips. “You’re lucky I do.”

Your hands quickly found their way around the white fabric of his tie, practically yanking him in for the kiss. Whatever lingering sense of responsibility he had was quickly tossed out the window, cold fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt leaving goosebumps in their wake. You responded by letting your own touch wander, fingers carding into his hair and giving a light tug, earning a small grunt from deep in his throat.

“You are a menace.” He grumbled, voice low, though his lips barely left yours long enough for it to carry any weight.

A giggle escaped you when his hand met the underside of your thigh and squeezed, you didn't hesitate to let him guide you up onto the workbench. The movement sent loose parts and sheets of paper tumbling to the floor, but neither of you paid them much mind as he moved to nip along your jaw.

“Me?” You countered. “What about you? This is what the Dean's assistant gets up to when nobody is looking?”

He froze for a moment, pulling back to meet your gaze. His expression was half amused, half threatening as one dark brow cocked.

“Do you want me to stop?” He challenged, hands finding purchase on your thighs giving them a squeeze.

“No—” it left your mouth too quickly, too eager, and heat crawled its way up your neck. “Not even a little bit.”

He pursed his lips in an attempt to hide the shit eating grin breaking across his face before he dipped back towards your neck. You could already feel yourself growing weaker at his touch, heat pulsing low in your belly, moaning meekly when his mouth bruised your neck.

As he pressed himself between your legs your hips bucked involuntarily to meet him, drawing a low sound from his throat. Your lips crashed together in another heated kiss, quickly growing desperate as his tongue swept across yours. Sensing your impatience Viktors grip shifted, pushing you down until you were flat against the benchtop. His teeth scraped your collarbone before he descended lower, leaving wet, hot kisses across your skin. His hands moved down your body, one roaming the curve of your hip while the other hooked into your waistband. His fingers hooked beneath the fabric, pulling at it with enough force to leave your heart hammering with anticipation.

His lips ghosted their way down, knowing just where to press to have you crumbling beneath him, hot breath tickling your skin. When he reached your hips you instinctively arched towards him, lifting just enough for him to slip your bottoms off in one quick motion. Despite the warm room your skin prickled, especially as his fingers traced idle patterns over your bare legs.

When he lowered to his knees in front of you a needy whine escaped your mouth, fingers already gripping the edge of the table. He smirked in response, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin where your thigh met your pelvis.

“Patience” he murmured, but the teasing edge to his tone only made you tremble.

Moving more deliberately he nipped at the skin of your inner thighs, leaving small marks in his wake. Lanky hands gripped your legs, keeping them firmly parted as he inched his way closer and it took everything in you not to squirm. Finally he flattened his tongue against you, licking a lazy strip over your clit. Your body tensed, a grunt spilling from your throat. He was growing a bit hazy already himself, dragging his thumb experimentally through your folds. His breath audibly hitched when your arousal coated his skin, and he began slow circles on your puffy clit.

“Look at you,” his voice was gravelly now, slightly strained. “So eager.”

You whimpered in response, hips now bucking towards his touch. Your reaction seemed to pull a quiet, almost dazed chuckle from him before his lips found your thigh again.

“Who knew you were so desperate for the Dean's assistant.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he threw your own words back at you.

“Viktor-” you breathed, a mixture of frustration and need clawing its way out of you.

Before you could protest further two long fingers slid inside of you, the sudden fullness stealing the words from your mouth and replacing them with a keening moan. His thumb continued its maddeningly slow assault of your clit and he watched you with a hungry gaze. He leaned in closer again, breathing out against your skin as he kissed back towards your center. His movements were unhurried despite the way you writhed under him.

“Say my name again.” His voice was low, and you barely processed his words, your focus splintering when his fingers started moving faster. Still, you managed to respond, his name tumbling weakly past your lips. It seemed to satisfy him, a quiet hum vibrating across your skin as his mouth replaced his thumb. The first pull of his lips against your clit had you reeling, crying out as your head fell back against the table.

His name slipped from your mouth again, more fervently this time and he rewarded you by suckling gently, tongue teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your thighs trembled around him, his free hand now pressing against your hip to steady you, though you could feel his grip tightened each time you squirmed.

Your fingers found their way back to the brown threads of his hair, pulling lightly as you grind your hips into his mouth. His fingers curled inside of you at just the right angle, sending a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you and your walls clenching around him. This time, though, it was Viktor who moaned. It was muffled and low but it reverberated right into your aching cunt, the sensation making your eyes roll back into your head as your grip on his hair tightened.

He was practically drunk on you now, lapping you up as his own arousal burned hot and insistent, cock straining in his pants. The way you pulled him in, every moan only spurred him on.

“That's it-” he cooed in a low condescending tone, breaking between teasing licks and soft kisses to your clit. “So desperate, aren't you miláčku?” He purred, words dripping with such mocking sweetness that it made you shiver.

You couldn't answer, couldn't do anything but whine and curl against him, not with his fingers bullying into you,spreading you just right while his lips brushed against you over and over. You were unraveling, quickly.

“Making such a mess,” he teased. “and on my boss's desk, no less.” a small tisk left him and he smiled against you. “What would Heimerdinger think if he walked in right now?”

It only made you burn hotter, eyes pinching shut as a strangled moan ripped its way out of you, the coil in you snapping violently. He was quick to latch back onto your clit, tongue flicking as your orgasm rolled over you. It was so overwhelming your body twisted and writhed in an attempt to escape, your voice cracked as you wailed his name. Yet he was nothing if not stubborn. His arm tightened around your thigh, pinning you in place. He refused to let up until he had you on the brink of overstimulation, cunt drooling against his hand, tears pricking your eyes as your entire body convulsed under him.

Only once he was satisfied he'd drawn every last tremor did he finally relent. He slowed, pressing a few more soft kisses along your thighs. You were an utter mess, panting, boneless body thrumming from the aftershock while your head lulled. Viktor lifted himself from the floor, hands smoothing over your thighs as his gaze raked over you. A smug grin pulled at his swollen lips, hair disheveled, and heat rose to your cheeks again.

“You're stunning like this.” His tone was thick with satisfaction.

You huffed in response, a sheepish smile forming on your face. Forcing your tired body up from the bench your hands found his collar again, pulling him in for another kiss. He gladly accepted, the taste of yourself lingering on his lips. Quietly you pushed him back towards his chair, a playful glint in your eye.

“Your turn.”

©lilsworks 2024

359 notes · View notes

bkd-b3ans · 6 months ago

Text

You try to repair a watch, Boothill is being annoying as usual, you end up discovering his neurolink perfectly mimics human emotions.

-> Ship: Boothill X Mechanic!Reader (or just tech savvy idk the term really)

-> Rating: Safe for All

-> TL;DR: Boothill visits you after closing hours, nearly ruins a 5 million watch repair commission, stares for a bit too long while you work and overheats for a bit, ends up learning you live above your own workshop and you learn he gets flustered easy.

-> Extra notes: No idea where I will go with these, I just love writing stuff. Next one is going to be more about touching / feeling, but until then, you too can experience casual chatter. I do not proof read, whatever is written is in accordance to Ellios script, go meow at him. Take this "2nd" part as pure world-building.

-> Word count: 2k~ ish

-> First part: here

Thank you for reading and bearing with my awful English. If you have any prompts I would be more than happy to hear them.

"Pardner? Yoohooo~" Boothill was waving his arm like a manic from the front of the counter, trying to catch your attention, but you were too engrossed in your work, tinkering away with some expensive watch you were paid to fix, the tiny gears and springs neatly organized in your table in tiny boxes with labels, while you were hunched over the table, looking through a magnifying glass and listening to music, tongue almost sticking out like some cartoon character while you were trying to place the gear in its place carefully using some precise tweezers.

For all you cared, your shop was closed for the day, so why would anyone in their right mind, or that knows how to read a sign, would even bother you? Of course you didn't take into account a Galaxy Ranger that had a passion for annoying you at random times.

"Psst, hey, over 'ere..." he sighed, "Fudge this". Impatient as ever, Boothill just helped himself with one of the expensive motor oil cans in the counter and stepped around it, taking off his hat and placing it on your head.

The whole motion made you jump out of your skin, dropping the tweezers together with the very important, one of a kind gear, that you could barely notice while it was on your table, let alone on your floor, rolling off into the void like all of the pens you've lost throughout the years.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MY FUCKING WORK OF MY AEONS-" you took off the hat annoyed, hand still shaking from the scare and heart running laps in your chest. Shoving the hat into Boothills chest, you couldn't help but be angry at the man, sighing.

"Damn sugar-cube, didn't know ye were this jumpy. Ye should be more aware of yer surroundings you know?"

"What the hell does that mean. MY SHOP IS CLOSED BOOTHILL, CAN'T YOU READ??"

"Well, not your language no, it's all a bunch of jumbles and lines"

You looked confused for a moment before realizing that neither of you were from the same planet. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, trying to get rid of your furrow.

"Just, shut up and help me look for that gear. AND PUT THE DAMN CAN DOWN"

He raised his arms in defeat, putting down the can of motor oil and looking around your workbench while you were painfully looking for the gear with your magnifying glasses.

"Lotta' shiny pieces you have on the table. Are these really more important than your good old buddy, Boothill?"

"Unless you're willing to give me 5 million, then yes"

Boothill choked

"5 million?? For some beautiful watch?"

"What can I say, some people have more than they know what to do with. Now stop yapping and get on your knees, I can't see shit."

"Is that an invitation, darling?"

"... BOOTHILL!"

"Aye aye, don't get your feathers ruffled like this darling, just sit there and be pretty"

----------------

You couldn't help but be annoyed still, slumped in your chair, fiddling with your pen, while Boothill was looking around. How long has it been already, maybe a few minutes? Hours? Days??? Your work couldn't wait that much, and each ticking second felt agonizing. You were so close too, getting interrupted was the last thing you needed right now. You always had plans, a schedule, deadlines, you couldn't afford the unpredictability that is Boothill sometimes.

You almost got too lost in your thoughts before you heard a sudden thud, metal against wood, and a proud exclamation.

"Here it is sugar-cube, your pretty little thing... Cogwheel whatever. Now can you stop looking like someone spat in your food or do I need to repair this watch myself to make you happy?"

You could swear sometimes he was like a dog, a big doberman. For as scary as he could look sometimes, you couldn't help but be unable to push him away. All you could do was just let out an amused scoff, taking the gear piece in the palm of your hand, and gently placing it in it's box.

"No, no, you've done enough damage already. Why are you here even?"

"Just wanted to pay my best buddy a visit? What, a man can't do that no more?"

"No fixing your body? No maintenance work? Really nothing? Just a visit? Odd, thought you were a busy man"

"Oh I sure am sugar-cube, but sometimes even I need to sit down and relax."

"... In my workshop"

"In yer workshop, yes."

You sighed

"Fine, fine, stay for as long as you need, but don't touch anything that is in this-" you motion around your workbench "general area"

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment

"Aye aye, I'll stay put, fudge me, you can be very serious sometimes."

"5 million"

"Right yes, that's understandable."

You went back to work, trying to finish placing the last pieces inside that damned watch, headphones back on your ears. Boothill was simply slumped on the couch you kept around the waiting area, that barely saw any use to begin with. He was just looking around, bored out of his mind, the silence really starting to get to him. On occasion he's throw you glances, looking like a kicked puppy only to be met by your back either way. Yet he couldn't help but notice the few tics you had, tapping your foot, humming to yourself from time to time, arranging your hair by shaking your head around, and just how damn beautiful you looked in that dim warm light.

By no means we're you prettied up and groomed, after all, working with machinery all day will just lead to one always being covered by oil or sutt, clothes messy, the tools around your belt loud and heavy, but to him, it was part of the charm. The passion you had for what you did, the care you treated everything with, even his own body when it needed repairs. Sure, you two may butt heads more often than goats, but you were the reason he kept making his trips back to your workshop for any needs. He trusted you, felt comfort in your presence.

He could feel his insides start to heat up, his mind trailing off. Sure, he couldn't blush for the love of him, after all blood stopped flowing through his body long, long ago, but his body still reacted from time to time to strong emotions, and now it was no different. It felt, uncomfortable almost, a strange emptiness in his metal gut. Maybe it was the bullets he snacked in like some chips, or maybe it was more than that. He just simply pulled his hat over his eyes to focus and calm down.

-------------------

Finally, after so many hours, you were finally done, the watch ticking gleefully, almost as if happy with it's new look. You sighed in relief, finally placing down your headphones and slumping in your chair, pulling your glasses up.

"Finally... I swear they are trying to drive me insane with all these new 'trinkets' that have way too many small pieces for their own good. How you holding up, Boots?"

"Fine as ever sugar, bored out of my mind, but rested"

"Yeah, I can see that, you've already made a dent in my couch"

"Hey, I helped ya find that gear for free, can't I get some more respect"

"And who's fault was it that I dropped it?" You said, raising your eyebrow.

"Aye aye, sorry 'bout that."

There was a moment of pause

"Say, partner, you've messed around inside my body for a while now. Do you know if there's any functions that might mimic proper human emotions?"

"Human emotions? Hmmm"

You thought for a moment, trying to remember if you've seen any kind of code that might do that.

"I don't think I've seen anything like that, but I've also never like, actually paid attention. There may be some functions that mimic that, after all, you might need them to think and work properly. Why?"

"Ah, nothing important, was just wondering."

"I can always check if you want. Of course, for a price"

He couldn't help but scoff, amused "You were never free eh?"

"Someone has to eat"

"Sure, sure. I mean why not, might as well get this mystery solved, since I'm here and have nothing better to do."

"Then come with me"

You both went inside your garage, Boothill already used to all the steps, laying down on the weird table chair as he put it while you connected the cables to the back of his neck, opening the hologram screens.

"Let's see..." you rubbed your chin, pacing around while moving around screens, trying to find anything remotely similar to what Boothill mentioned, but it was rather hard. Every line kept changing dictating different functions every moment.

"Hmm...."

"Anything the matter?"

"No, I just realized why I might have never seen that kind of function. Your neurolink is adapting to everything you do, so it's changing constantly. I think the only way to spot anything us to trigger whatever made you so curious about your 'emotions'"

"Trigger em? And how the fork do you plan on doing that?"

You thought for a moment, moving next to Boothill, dragging the screens along with you. You didn't really give a warning as you poked his chest with a screwdriver, noticing some changes.

"What in the beautiful sky are you doing?"

"There it is" you just pointed at the screen at the suddenly changing lines.

"Your body reacts to your mental state. Right now you are confused"

"I sure as warm lake I am, you're poking me around with a screwdriver."

"What else would have you wanted me to do? Touch you with my own hands?"

He was about to say something, but you grabbed one of the screens, squinting at it.

"Getting flustered, Boots?" You could almost feel your own smug smile forming on your face.

"Flustered? Please, you'd think I'd get 'flustered' from just a check-up?"

"Bashful... Interesting"

"Hey! Stop saying things and answer me, sweetheart"

"And annoyed. Yeah, you do seem to have those functions, and they're damn advanced to mimic human emotions. Guess you aren't just metal after all. You still have the ability to feel. It's interesting how this changes..."

You got too focused on the lines of code, not paying attention to how you started leaning against the table, your hand extremely close to Boothills, fingers almost touching. Sure, you were just staring at the lines changing, but Boothill was staring at your hand, annoyed almost that he couldn't just grab it, only to be confused over why he was annoyed. You just chuckled to yourself and pushed the screen away, unplugging the cables.

"Well, mystery solved, your neurolink functions exactly like a brain and it sends the proper signals, so your body will be affected by your emotions."

"Great-" he rolled his eyes, standing up and scratching the back of his head "You need a new table, this one is forking uncomfortable."

"I don't take feedback"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say darling." he just hopped off the table, adjusting his hat.

"H-"

"1k credits"

"Damn, let me finish at least. Fine, you know the drill"

"Nah, I'll let it slide this time. Getting to check your internals can be fun sometimes" you patted his back

"I'll go home, unless you want to guard my shop, you should leave too."

"You don't just live in your workshop??"

"...what...?"

"You know, like, I've always only seen you here, where is your home even."

"Oh... Oh! I guess you can say that? My home is upstairs, I bought the whole building when I opened so everything on the ground floor is the shop, upstairs is my place."

"Ok that makes sense... Can I-"

"No"

"Fine fine, I'll go my merry way then. I'll see you next time partner, and thank you for the free check-up"

"Don't get too used to them"

He nodded, tipping his hat and leaving.

#boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail #hsr #fanfic #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill fanfic #my stuff

404 notes · View notes

futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago

Text

Heartless Pt.2

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

I heart slowburn x

You idled on where you could go for your honeymoon. At least Miguel gave you the twisted liberty of choosing where you could go, you didn't even care enough to want to go to nice places anymore. Why was he trying to drag this out with a honeymoon? Neither of you wanted it, yet Miguel always valued whatever his Consigliere had to say, you weren't going to take one of your few chances to argue with him over something so minuscule, you were saving your rage and confusion for the things that would matter in the future. Maybe somewhere warm, maybe Italy or France or something. You wondered what Mexico would be like since Miguel is half Mexican, you wondered if a part of his family were settled there too- you had to admit, you were curious if the apple fell far from the tree. You immediately dismissed this misplaced curiosity, you didn"t know Miguel well enough yet and he would probably have your head on a spike if you even mentioned it. Miguel's brother Gabriel came into the penthouse to pick up a few things and you told him that you wanted to go to Italy, Gabriel said he'd pass that along to Miguel's pilot.

It was getting dark out and Miguel said you'd fly out tonight but he still wasn't back. You hadn't seen Miguel since breakfast, you probably ruffled his feathers just by challenging him minutely. All you did today was get ready, did up your hair, splashed on some makeup, wear one of the dresses he gave you, and sat around. You were bored out of your mind, if this was what married life would be like, you would be very irritable and uncooperative indeed. You couldn't back out now, being bored was better than being dead.

You took this eventless time to wander around this penthouse, one of his capos told you he owned many but this was one of the nicer ones, it was quiet, serene. You spent this day with one of Miguel's lackeys stationed outside of the door and Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes, AKA the maid, but you actively avoided her.

It was a nice place to live in, expensive and clean, but it felt...empty, even with people in and outs mavbe it was just the lack of Miguel that was making you feel this way. Your heels clicked around and your eyes squinted towards Miguels study.

Should you...? You'd probably get a shot to the kneecap at least for meddling with Miguel's private affairs. Your fingers wandered to the handle tentatively, your curiosity outweighed your fear. It would be a stupid mistake, yes, but if Miguel wasn't going to be here now, he definitely wouldn't be around later, so you had time to snoop and pretend you weren't there.You opened the door and your eyes shot around, he was such a neat freak, but there were bits of paper strewn on his desk. His desk was dark oak, it was almost black, his desk chair was real black leather too, and the warm ambient lights offered some sort of atmosphere where he could work. You strolled softly behind his desk to look at the loose papers. The first one was marriage papers, the official documents to your betrothal, the other one was the NDA you signed and the last one was...an entire background check on you. You sifted through the paper and there were pictures of you walking around on the streets of New York, you clutched onto it, your eyes narrowing at the words you were reading on the page.

It had your bank details.

Your clothing measurements.

Your GPA.

The earnings of your parent's company.

Every ex-boyfriend you've ever had

The shops you go to.

Your favourite food.

Quite literally everything about you.

He ran a background check on you and had someone follow you around before you got engaged. You frowned at the paper. You set it down and sighed, taking a minute to consolidate what you had just read. Raking a hand through your hair, you walked around his desk and stole a glance at the walls- you couldnt believe you missed what he hung up on the walls. You inched forward to inspect the Renaissance paintings that covered the room, he even had a real Caravaggio, Lord knows how much it cost. Then you shifted towards a picture that wasn't a painting. It was of Miguel and his brother when they were about teenagers, embracing each other for the camera after a presumably long day of playing sports or something like that- but what really stunted you was that he was smiling. You don't think you've ever seen Miguel smile at all.

What you didn’t realise was that Miguel was at home, trying to find you in the penthouse.

He knew he was an hour late but he was held up by some important consultations. His brow raised when out of the corner of his eye, he found the door to his study open which was very odd- it was always left closed, he should probably invest in a lock. His fingers opened it up sottly and there he found you, snooping around his study like a second-rate degenerate criminal, but when he found you, you were gawking at the art on his walls. You were absorbed in the paintings, in a trance akin to that of a dream, he almost didn't want to disturb you, You were wearing a slinky black strapless dress that hugged you just right, it stopped just below the knee, your skin was glowing in the ambient light, the heels on your feet making you look taller, but not as tall as him. He liked that he had the choice to power over you.

He had the sentiment he always had when he looked at you: you looked nice.

“Enjoying your prying?” A low irritated voice husked behind you, you turned around and yelped in surprise, your chest heaved at the shock of seeing him right here, in a place you had no business being in. You were dead already. You winced when your eyes met his, he seemed amused and annoyed all at once as you gaped at him at the doorway. He was so….so…clean and smart but his sleeves were rolled up and a few buttons were undone, he ditched his tie as you saw it in his hand. You swallowed thickly.

“I'm fine.”You seemed to muster up, unsure of what else to say, You had to admit, you were a little afraid but you would rather die than show that. You weren't sure what was going to fall out of his mouth, probably a verbal tongue-lashing. “Caravaggio? His paintings are rather dark.” You couldn't help but comment on it, of course, he would have refined taste, not just in anything business-related but also something as cultural as art.

“Isn't that what's fascinating about it?” Miguel grumbled, hoping you wouldn't hear him. It was a bright, keen and astute observation. You pursed your lips and stayed silent whilst crossing your arms. “I don't want you in here.” He clipped coldly as he finally made his way to approach you, he stole a look towards his desk and found that a few papers had been messed with. So you know about it now.

“I don't want you having your capos stalk me.” You bit back shrewdly with challenging eyes and Miguel raised an eyebrow a little, just enough for you to notice from the corner of your eye. Touche, dick.

“I have to know how I'm working with.” He said so emotionless, so flatly. Like everything was about business, like neither of you was actual people with feelings.

“Well, I don't know who I'm working with, so you're not fighting fair.” You inched forward to him as you let out with a strained breath. Unfortunately for him, your statement made him think.

“You won't have to and you're right, I don't fight fair.”

“I told Gabriel I want to go to Italy, by the way.” You pivoted the subject around and Miguel was internally pleased that you did.

“Portofino is nice this time of year.” He commented briskly, again, reverting back as if you were mere acquaintances discussing destination spots and the fucking weather. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You packed quickly and Miguel's driver took all your bags as you were about to head out of the front door. You weren't really paying attention as Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes was all over Miguel again, talking to him about what needed to be done the time both of you came back. You didn't know why you didn't like her, it was probably because she was so obvious about it, she was practically drooling over your husband as if you weren't here.

He was your husband. Whether you liked it or not. When she glanced over at you, you raked a tuft of hair behind your ear, your wedding ring on full display as you did so, she definitely noticed it with the way her face settled into a scowl.

It didn't take long until you were both in the back seat of Miguel's lamp-black Porsche, completely silent to the drive to the airstrip that Miguel owned. You blinked out the window, watching the bright city lights blur into colors against the dark of night, well-mannered in your straight posture and crossed legs. Miguel took a second to contemplate your presence, he almost hated how well-behaved you were. A small fraction of him wanted to see you get messy, preferably under him. He shook the defiant out of his head with a scowl, staring out of his own window in response. There was this thick tension between you, this sustaining of a non-existent friendship, trying to keep the conversation simple and polite between you and the man you barely knew anything about.

He did his research but your parents did their own- they didn't let you get involved even though you were the one they were marrying off.

It felt like forever in the car, Miguel escorted you out like a...gentleman. Watching you sway so confidently up the stairs to his private jet. He had a full view of your ass in that dress he liked, he didn't know how to feel about it so he just breathed deeply instead. Miguel followed you up, stepping into the cool, crystalized plush leather of the plane. Jesus, the amount of money he spent on this is probably uncountable, just thinking about it made your head ache. Miguel watched as you were awed at the interior, he had a slight feeling of contempt at your reaction, like you didn't think your lifestyle would change into this. He makes this kind of money every minute. He was a very wealthy man. He could afford 20 of these if he wanted to. You needed to stop being so surprised and get used to shit like this.

You thought that Miguel would probably want to sit the furthest away from you, he was distant like that but a flash of confusion covered your face when you found him sitting next to you as he did up his seatbelt.

So close.

The proximity was...different. So different.

“Good evening, Mr. O'hara.” Before you knew it a soft sensual voice in front of you pierced through your absent-minded thoughts. Oh, of course. Another insanely beautiful woman worked for him. She took out a single glass and pulled out a 100-year-old Merlot. Her perfectly tailored uniform clung to her so tightly it was like glue. Of course, he had a gorgeous flight attendant. Of course. It shouldn't bother you, but for some reason it did. “How was your night...with your friend here?” She glanced to the side at you, finally realizing that it wasn't just her and Miguel in the plane, so they couldn't exactly fuck like dogs. Her face scrunched into a condescending smile, looking you up and down. It was obvious she was defeated but she concealed it behind bright eyes. Why did every single woman who worked for him want to fuck him? It was honestly galling.

“She's my wife.” Miguel said thickly, his voice held a certain gravitas, and his tone was clipped, almost like he was annoyed. The revelation seemed to get to Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes Number 2, her face dropped and it honestly made you feel better. “And yes, we had a good night, thank you. Please get another glass for us please.” It was almost like he was politely laying into her.

“Of course, Mr O'Hara.” She smiled softly as she whisked away to get another glass.

Miguel wanted to roll his eyes. Yeah, yeah baby, keep dreaming he wanted to say. He really didn't like it when people gawked at him, especially the women who worked for him. It wasn't him who employed all these objectively beautiful women, it was Gabriel and he was extremely biased. He doesn't fuck his staff. Well, he can't because he's a married man. Married to you. A beautiful woman who he just can't figure out. Even though, he had all the info he could get about you...the way you talked to him, and the way you acted around him was confusing. You were so puzzling and he wanted to uncover the secrets that you held, how messy you could actually get behind this complacent good girl agenda.

His eyes flickered to you and it was obvious you were lost in your own little world. He looked at your lap and noticed that you weren't wearing your seatbelt, before his mind could even check it, his hands reached out for your seatbelt.

You almost jumped into your seat when you realized where his hands were, he was leaning towards you, close enough where you could fully smell his deep and rich cologne. He did your seatbelt and without hesitation, tightened it harshly with one tug, you gasped softly at the unexpected action. Woah. His hands were...big.

“Make sure you don't die a day after your wedding day.” He muttered just above a whisper. You let out a gentle cough and resumed your 'respectable' position, pretending like it didn't affect you whatsoever.

Miguel wanted you to be affected by him, maybe so he could intimidate you. But after just a short few days together and many moments of where you should be intimidated by him- you weren't. It was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He could have you affected by him in another way…maybe sexual tension would do the trick in breaking this facade you had up... He contemplated the idea but then ultimately rejected it as quickly as it came.

He can't fraternize with you.

This was merely a business transaction.

He wanted this as clean as possible.

No feelings. No fucking up.

He would never get involved. He won't do it.

He’s done too much to stop now.

taglist (giggles): @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann

#spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

2K notes · View notes

hom3landr · 4 months ago

Note

So, I have an honest question. Homelander is used to his bday being a huge deal, but what if the person he is interested in doesn't care about their own bday?

Like he has known them for a year, and they never celebrated their own bday nor ever hinted at it. How do you think he'd react?

Birthday Blues

Homelander x Gender Neutral Reader

Homelander hates when you keep secrets from him. But what’s merely a harmless fact to you pokes a sore spot that you never expected.

You hear him before you see him, eyebrow raising at the angry stomp of his footsteps. You’re finishing up the chapter of the book you’re reading and you hope he doesn’t have beef with you because then who knows when you’ll get back to it. You read as fast as you can, words almost blurring as you hastily scan the page. But alas, before you reach the last sentence, your book is cruelly ripped from you.

Homelander stands over your place on the couch, one hand perched on his hip while the other points your book at you as a replacement for his “oh so imposing” finger that he loves to wave at you. His brow is knitted and there’s no doubt that whatever has his feathers ruffled has something to do with you. You lean back and sigh, contemplating how long you should let him ramble before attempting to calm him down. He’s cute when he’s angry. You can live with a lecture when he looks so good doing it. Although you’re hardly feeling charitable at the moment due to him snatching your book like some kind of barbarian.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday?!” He hisses at you, dropping your book with a thump as he places both hands jauntily on his hips. His jaw clenches as he waits for your answer.

You freeze.

Huh?

You don’t know what you expected but it certainly isn’t that. You had expected him to be fussy about you grabbing a drink with Starlight the other night or helping Ashley with some insane task he gave so he could watch her squirm. You missed a call from him earlier, that tends to set him off. You’d even believe he was feeling sensitive about you waking up before him and grabbing a coffee instead of a good morning kiss. Any of those would be easy to assume. But no, he’s apparently worked up that you didn’t tell him your birthday.

You figured Homelander isn’t a fan of birthdays. He certainly seems cynical about his own. He hasn’t told you the whole story but when he grits his teeth at his birthday obligations instead of basking in the cheers of the crowd, you can easily make the assumption that it’s a sore subject. You don’t have any hang ups about your own birthday but it just never seemed like a big deal to you. It’s just a day. Perhaps too many sneak attacks from the singing staff at restaurants traumatized you. Maybe it’s because birthday cake is always too sickly sweet. Or possibly you just don’t feel like celebrating the passage of time. You never tell people and people rarely ask.

Yet, you can tell by the petulant twist of his mouth that he’s not just angry but hurt that you didn’t share it with him.

“I’m…sorry. I just don’t really think about it that much.” You reply with a confused shrug. His mouth twitches and you know he’s not satisfied with that answer. He’s taking this awfully personally and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. It’s just a day.

“Are you trying to fuck with me? So next time we argue you can bring up what a horrible boyfriend I am for ignoring your birthday! You gonna gossip about it over cocktails with fucking Starlight?” He spits out her name like a curse. You want to roll your eyes but you don’t fancy Homelander flying you to the top of a skyscraper and leaving you there like the last time you tried that. You sigh and reach out to take his hand. He jerks it away petulantly for a moment but when you reach for it again he allows your touch.

“That would make me a pretty shitty partner. I’m not trying to play games with you. I’ve just never really had strong feelings about my birthday. That’s all. I promise.” You squeeze his hand and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, enjoying the feel of the buttery soft leather of his glove. He pouts.

“I’m not a bad boyfriend.” He huffs. You gently tug his hand and guide him until he’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap. It only takes a few strokes of his hair before he deflates like a balloon. He turns to snuggle his face into your chest.

“I’m not.” He sighs into your shirt. You shush him gently.

“You’re my good boy. I know you wouldn’t forget on purpose. You take such good care of me. But why do you care so much about my birthday?” You switch from stroking his hair to rubbing soothing circles on his back. He’s easily mollified today and it further confirms your suspicions that his feelings were deeply wounded. He desperately needs reassurance when that happens. It’s sweet.

“Did you know that my birthday is fake? Corporate decided on it. I don’t even have one since I was…” He trails off and your heart squeezes painfully. He’s cagey about his past but every so often new details will slip out and it horrifies you every time. You continue to sooth him even as your stomach twists unpleasantly. “But you do have one and you don’t even care! Do you know how fucking spoiled you are?”

You ignore the jab although your hackles rise. Poking his ego now would prove disastrous. So you swallow your pride and continue to let him vent.

“I don’t want you keeping things like that from me. You’re mine and I deserve to know things about you. How can I trust you when you won’t even tell me your fucking birthday.” He huffs and you can feel him stiffen up as he works himself back up into an angry spiral. He nips at your stomach hard enough to bruise and you tug on his hair harshly as a reprimand.

“This isn’t me intentionally keeping some secret from you. I don’t tell anybody.” You pause briefly as an idea hits you. “But…maybe it’s your birthday today too.” You answer and he pulls himself away to fix you with a bemused glare. His brow twitches as he processes what you said

“I mean, if you don’t know the actual day. Then technically every day can be your birthday. It’s like Schrodinger's Cat. Screw corporate, pick your own birthday.” You give his shoulder a little shake and your heart lifts when the corner of his mouth tilts into a little smile.

“It’s my birthday today too then. Now you have to celebrate.” He gives you a smug grin and you ruffle his hair fondly. The hurt still lingers. This is a mere bandage over the leaking wound you know still remains. But if you can ease his burden even a little, you’re happy to do so. Even if it means making a big deal out of your birthday.

“The mighty Homelander sharing the spotlight with a humble human like me? It’s pretty scandalous.” You tease and he turns his head to kiss the sore spot where he bit you. He nuzzles into you one last time before sitting up. He leans in to rub his nose against yours, desperately seeking intimacy in such a vulnerable moment.

“No spotlight,” He whispers. “Just you and me.”

You smile and pull him into a chaste kiss. He whines at the brevity of it and you place another cheeky kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Just you and me.”

He grins and his eyes fill with mischief as he meets your gaze.

“That means it’s time for your birthday spankings” He reaches out to swat you when you bolt with a wild laugh, careening and slipping around his apartment in your socks as he gives chase. You realize as you shriek at his games that maybe birthdays aren’t so bad after all…at least as long as no one sings to you.

#homelander #homelander x reader #x reader #so sorry this took so long anon

395 notes · View notes

slytherizz · 1 year ago

Text

Everything, with you - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC/Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+ | Breeding Kink | Size Kink | explicit sexual content | Dad!Seb

All tags can be found on Ao3

Summary:

"Watching you carry my children is one of life's greatest pleasures. If it's possible - you're more beautiful now than you've ever been.”

“Do you ever think about…”

“Having another one?”

A/N This works as a stand-alone but if you happened to have read either of my long fics this would sit either after the epilogue of 'Whatever it Takes' or in between the final chapter and the epilogue of 'In the Shadow of Us' (but I omitted the Azkaban references so it works for both). I have literally nothing to say for myself for this one other than...

For the thicc Seb girlies 💕

Dark curly hair tickled the underside of Sebastian's chin as he adjusted his son nestled in his lap. Book resting against his knee which was bent at an awkward and rather uncomfortable angle where he'd managed to cram himself onto Sam's little bed. Sebastian’s neck ached and his left leg was almost completely dead. Not that he minded. He knew his youngest would outgrow this one day, and would no longer need his father to read him fairytales. So Sebastian succumbed easily to Sam’s pleading and let himself be the dutiful mountain against which his son could rest.

"Now, this word’s a little tricky, so take your time with it,” Sebastian tapped his finger on the page. "What does this say?"

"I'm not sure." Sam frowned. He traced his pudgy finger over the unfamiliar word and along the bright plume of fiery feathers printed in rich shades of red and gold on the page. The enchanted bird ruffled its wings as it clicked its beak attempting to nip at Sam's fingers. Each time the bird squawked soundlessly as he stroked its plumage Sam giggled with delight.

"Sound it out. You see right here? The 'Ph' makes an ‘f’ sound.”

"Like ‘t’ and ‘h’ make a 'the' sound?"

“Exactly right. Two letters. One sound,” Sebastian said, ruffling his boy's hair proudly.

Alice, his eldest had always had an uncanny ability to memorise words. Could recall the contents of practically every book he'd ever given her once she’d devoured it. She'd taken great pride in unnerving her primary school teacher by listing every ingredient in ‘A draft of living death’. Which may have seemed like a feat within itself…until she’d insisted on doing it backwards.

His unique form of parenting had been called into question more than once by her teachers but who was he to tell his daughter that ‘most potent potions’ was not appropriate bedtime reading? Restricting her inquisitive mind would be a far greater sin.

Sam's little mind on the other hand worked like a tinker. Slower it may seem than his sister as he pieced together meaning. But that wasn’t nearly the case. Simply because he liked to fiddle with things more than his sister. Take a word apart and rearrange it before dismantling it again entirely. He picked apart the rules as he learnt them. All whilst, humming sagely from time to time like he was some great philosopher and he wasn't in fact, a boy of four who had spent the morning sulking when there was no honey left in the pantry for his toast.

“Try sounding it out," he encouraged.

"Fee-nix?" Sam’s brows furrowed slightly the new word unfamiliar and clunky on his tongue. "Pheonix?"

"That’s it. You’re doing well. Now I know you know the rest of it. Reckon you can read the full sentence?”

"The p-phoenix went up in…smoke?"

"Clever boy!"

Sam turned to look up at Sebastian, puffing out his chest with pride. Sebastian kissed the crown of his head affectionately. Sam burrowed his head into his shirt trying and failing to disguise a yawn against his father's chest.

Snapping the book closed and placing it on his bedside table. Sebastian scooped him up as he shifted off the small bed placing his son snuggly under the quilt constellations in golden thread adorned its edges.

“Right, I think that's enough for tonight. Bedtime for you mister.”

“But I'm not tired,” Sam protested. Rubbing his drooping eyelids which did little to rally his father to his plight. Eyes so like his mother's framed under furrowed dark brows. Stubbornness was an inherited trait and with how pigheaded he and his wife could be Sebastian should have known his children would be no different.

“I'm sure you're not,” Sebastian chuckled. Tucking the blankets tighter around his squirming limbs. “But it's already way past your bedtime. If you settle down I’ll put the stars up - How does that sound?”

Sam grinned, nodding his head eagerly as he buried his head deeper into his pillow. Sebastian pulled out his wand. Sam’s eyes lighting up. Glittering as they always get in his eyes when either of her parents performed even the simplest of charms. With an unnecessarily large flourish, Sebastian extinguished the bedside lantern plunging them into darkness. He whispered his modified charm.

Stars small but dazzling began to twinkle into life one by one across the steepled ceiling painting the cosmos across the wooden beams.

It wasn’t nearly as elaborate as the charm in the Hogwarts great hall that had given Sebastian the inspiration. Not quite a replication of the overcast sky outside, but to Sam’s childlike wonder; his father could conjure the heavens in his bedroom. Pluck the stars from the sky so he could sleep bathed in starlight.

For all his folly into the persuits into the darker sides of magic - there was no spell more powerful than the ones that made his children’s life a little more magical.

“Night, Dad.”

***

Undoing the buttons of his shirt Sebastian shucking the material from his shoulders. Wincing as he kneaded at the tight knot that had formed in his neck from too long spent hunched over in his son's small bed. Stretching like a bear ripe from hibernation joints cracking audibly.

His dark brows lifted in alarm as he caught his reflection in the ornate oblong mirror tucked into the corner of their bedroom.

Sebastian had always looked like his father. Same bow to their lips, unruly chestnut hair and soft brown eyes like sodden earth after rain. He could practically divine how his features would change using the brushstrokes of the portrait of his parents that hung proudly on the stairs.

But it was the things that went beyond the superficial that made his parents' old friends stumble on his name and acquaintances double-take in the street as if the dead still walked among them. The determined set of his jaw, the curious glint in his eye. There truly had never been any mistaking exactly who Sebastian’s father was.

But he didn’t just look like his Dad ; he looked like a Dad.

Not that he'd ever been particularly lean . A stockiness to his frame as all Sallow men carried. Violence practically carved into his marrow. Built more for quidditch or boxing, than for scholarly pursuits he'd always been drawn to; but this was getting out of hand.

Sebastian frowned at his reflection. Still strong in the trunk in a way that he never minded, especially not with how it elicited such sinful looks from his wife but he had become notably softer around the middle. What had once been a sparse tuft of hair on his chest he’d taken great pride as a lad, was now thick dark hair trailing down his stomach.

It seemed as unprepared Sebastian had been, stumbling bowlegged and awkwardly into fatherhood, not having nearly enough time with his own to have much to go off; his body had settled far quicker into his new role than he had.

Scratching at the short beard he kept neatly trimmed. Well, for what could pass as neat considering his hair was unruly no matter where it grew. Sebastian twisted and turned, appraising himself from different angles.

When was the last time he'd duelled? Worked up any kind of sweat?

Perhaps he should consider himself lucky he was in the shape he was. Carrying his children upstairs to bed and lugging stacks of heavy stacks of old manuscripts and attifacts charmed against magical interference around the Department of Mysteries hardly counted as exercise. The closest thing anyone would consider vigorous was fucking his wife. But then again holding her small frame against a wall hardly felt like work.

He rotated his joints, and the tendons of muscle in his heavy shoulders flexed under freckled skin. An old puckered scar long faded to white across his shoulder now a mere remnant from his past life. Underneath the soft exterior of the doting father he’d become still lurked the shadow of the hellion youth he’d once been.

Delicate hands slithered around his middle running along the breadth of him stroking at the hair on his chest. Her warm cheek came to rest, nestled between his shoulder blades. Sighing affectionately, her breath tickling his skin. Sebastian leaned into her touch, even after all these years he still felt sparks.

"If you keep scowling your face will get stuck like that,” she chided. Sebastian snorted twisting in her hold to face her. She’d loosened the soft braids she usually wore at her temples so her hair hung loose around her shoulders. She smiled up at him, crooked and his heart stuttered in an unsteady rhythm.

“Alice, go down without any fuss?”

“Has she ever?” She quirked an eyebrow at him far more amused by their daughters' antics than cross. “Caught her trying to get into your study after I put her to bed - again. Luckily she isn’t half as stealthy as she is mischievous.”

Sebastian grinned at her, arching his eyebrows. “She gets that from you.”

“I think Scribner would have disagreed.” She said rolling her eyes. “But something tells me it's not Alice's nocturnal antics causing that face. Tell me what's wrong my love?"

Placing a warm hand against his cheek fingers combing through the hair on his chin. He shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her gaze. Failing to suppress the heat he could feel rising in his cheeks most likely staining the tops of his ears.

"Nothing, Pet. I’m uh-” he hesitated, wincing slightly. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed. And is she hadn't, he was reluctant to point it out. Lest it change the way she looked at him. She was still as radiant the first time he'd laid eyes on her but Sebastian was a far cry from the roguish boy who'd made her heart race.

He leaned heavily into her hand resting against his chin. Letting the tenderness of her touch and softness of her gaze quell the unease. “Just carrying a bit more timber than I'm used to. I hadn’t noticed how much the years had caught up to me. After two kids and all."

"You’ll always be the same stubborn and reckless boy to me," she wrapped her arms around him tighter. It was only a chaste peck but an inexplicable blush darkened her cheeks as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek contemplatively. Her hands grazed along Sebastian’s freckled shoulders, through the sparse hair on his chest nails scratching softly. "But I must admit…I rather like you like this. Broad. Manly.”

" Oh - Do you now?" he smirked. Admiring the flush that had stained her cheeks at her admission.

Seeming to take an unnatural amount of interest in the pattern of their curtains she averted her eyes blushing deeply. "Yes. I do. And don't let it go to your big head.”

Far too late for that. After all these years she should really have known better. His chest already swelling with pride a smug smile pulling at the corner of his freckled cheeks.

Tugging at the sleeve of her pale blue dress. The cotton slipped away to expose more of her skin. Sebastian snaked his hand around her waist to settle on the small of her back. Ducking his head to pepper kisses along the dip of her shoulder.

The faint smell of mallowsweet that always clung to her hair far sweeter than any perfume; a herb balm that had soothed and tamed his stubborn heart. Heat rose where he'd exposed her as Sebastian's mouth worked its way down her neck towards her clavicle. Her fingers pressed a little harder into his flesh feeling the tight coils of muscle that still lurked underneath.

Despite Sebastian's intention of letting his wife thoroughly enjoy the body, she found so desirable. She seemed distracted. Her breathing hitched a little as he grazed his teeth over her delicate throat. Sucking in just a way that would usually drive all the thoughts from her pretty head - that was not the case tonight.

“Besides - it's not like I look the same as I did before Alice and Sam.”

"Mmm, but watching you carry my children is one of life's greatest pleasures. If it's possible - you're more beautiful now than you've ever been.”

“Do you ever think about…”

She trailed off. Mouth opened and closed lamely as she searched for the words her eyebrows furrowed.

“Having another one?”

The high-pitched and uncharacteristically nervous noise of agreement she emitted made Sebastian pause his efforts to adorn her shoulder with dark love bites which were now blooming like wild grapes.

It was rare to see his wife nervous. Even rarer still for her mind to be elsewhere when it came to their marital relations. But he could understand her trepidation; it wasn’t as if either of their children had exactly been planned.

Before either of them were born he often wondered if they should have been parents. Not a single guardian between them to cobble together any semblance of what a parent should be. A trail of lost souls he'd not been able to protect.

Hazy memories of love weren't exactly a blueprint for success.

So Sebastian packed those feelings away even before he'd let them fully bubble to the surface. Resigned perhaps to the fact that although she may have fallen in love with the rough-edged boy he’d been; she'd still bore witness to the worst of him. A dark unsightly stain on his soul he kept cloistered away but they both knew would never leave him. Or her.

And why would either of them want to burden a child with him as their father; or her with his last name? It did not do to dwell on something Sebastian never thought he’d be able to have.

Then one day their world shifted and as willfully unprepared as they’d been for it; so did they.

Alice bloomed in the cracks of space in their lives they hadn’t known something had been missing. But perhaps had always left vacant and wanting for her.

Sam, followed so shortly after. Alice - barely a year old when they’d realised three would quickly become four.

By then, Sebastian had put to rest that gnawing anxiety that told him perhaps they should have never been parents. Fatherhood suited him. Soothed an old ache that had been throbbing since the passing of his own and now he wore it like a familiar coat.

He allowed himself to bask in the elation of their growing family; in a way, he’d not been able to with Alice. Not only taking pride in his wife, who practically glowed more beautiful than he’d ever seen her; but pleasure in watching her stomach swell once again with his child.

So much in fact, he lamented over the missed opportunity for what it would be like to take her with the sole intention of filling her with life. Could practically taste it every time he felt her unravelling on his cock. Dragged his feet at the apothecary when she asked him to purchase extra dandelion root for her monthly brew in the years that followed.

Already Sebastian could feel his blood rushing south at the thought. Inhaling sharply, calming his heart which was now thumping hard against his sternum as that familiar desire pooled.

“I love our family. Alice and Sam, are plenty troublesome and we have our hands full as it is,” he began carefully.

Sebastian cupped her chin, shifting her soft gaze to his. The smile he wore, genuine if a little weak. What he said was true. Sebastian did not wish to burden her with making such a decision simply to satisfy his elicit fantasies. He would not begrudge her if she didn’t want another child after she’d given him so much - more than he’d ever let himself hope for.

But she visibly deflated with his words. “Oh…so you wouldn't want another one?”

“No! I mean- not ‘ no’ . Merlin, it’s quite the opposite. In fact, I think I’ll always want more ,” Sebastian spluttered. Tongue tied and feeling the opportunity slipping through his fingers Sebastian took a breath to right himself. “Neither of us has much in the way of family outside of the one we made for ourselves - each child you give me is the greatest blessing I never thought I’d have. I’d love nothing more than to grow the family that we created.”

“I just want to know you're sure. You don't have to just because I want one.”

“There is nothing within my power that I would not give you. But, trust me love there are other reasons it appeals to me.”

“Oh?”

Hands glided down her spine grabbing the soft curve of her backside. Her eyes widened as he pulled her flush against his body where she could feel the growing bulge press against her stomach. Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, Sebastian ducked his head to nip gently at her earlobe before he whispered.

“Getting to fuck you purely with the intention of filling you with my seed. Watching you swell with another of my children. Breeding you. ” His voice, a low rumble reverberating from deep in his chest. Domineering. Predatory. Every point his body was pressed against hers felt like a fire that ignited a desire that lay dormant inside him. Desperate to claw its way out. Claim her as his - again . "Wearing the evidence under those pretty dresses of yours for everyone to see. So they know exactly what you let me do to you. Who you belong to.”

A visible shiver ran down her spine. Goosebumps prickling across her skin at the filth of his words. Feeling pressed hard against her stomach exactly how much the idea appealed to him.

“Sebastian-”

“Tell me you want it and it’s yours,” he murmured huskily against her neck. Nipping at that spot below her jaw he knew made her knees buckle.

His little witch had never been the obedient sort, as wild and stubborn as a poorly bottled lightning. But after all these years together - Sebastian knew exactly which buttons to push. How to make her laugh so hard her cheeks ached from smiling; a sound so perfect it washed his worries away like a tide. The ones that made rage; burn so fiercely he was reminded she was barely a witch at all but a dragon merely playing at domesticity.

Most favourably to Sebastian were the ones that turned every rational coherent thought in her head into a blinding fog of lust.

He trailed kisses across her skin, her pulse quickening under the tender brush of his lips. An eager whine slipped from her throat. Hips pushing against his in search of friction to soothe the heat pooling in her abdomen.

“Yes- fuck. Please, I want that. Another baby. Your baby.”

The choked sound that clawed its way out of Sebastian’s throat sounded far from anything human. Somewhere between a groan and a growl.

Wasting not a second longer he grasped her hips lifting her swiftly as if she weighed nothing at all. Thighs wrapped tightly around his hips as she moulded into him. Heat radiated from her core barely concealed behind the thin fabric of her undergarment.

Fingers tangling in his hair, she pulled his lips forcefully to hers. Kissing him greedily. Tongue delved between his parted lips as if he were the air she breathed.

From the way she ground her hips insistently, his wife cared little if it drove him to distraction; she knew there was no way Sebastian would let her fall.

Carrying her over to the bed to practically launch her down onto the mattress. Hooded eyes, devoured every inch of her husband standing above her. Her dress dishevelled had ridden up to expose the tops of her thighs which squeezed together in anticipation. Sebastian palmed his hard length through biting hard on his lip to stifle a moan.

Her nimble fingers came quickly to fumble with the buttons of her dress. Sebastian batted her hand away with a grunt to tear into them himself. His mouth trailed kisses further down her body with every inch he exposed.

Stopping as in his journey towards her core to pay particular attention to the soft curve of her belly. She whined under every press of his lips against her stomach squirming impatiently under Sebastian with the need for him to fill the womb he worshipped so reverently.

Sebastian pulled her hips sharply towards the edge of their bed dropping to his knees between her spread legs. Folds already glistening with unrestrained desire. Sebastian ran the tip of his nose through the sparse hairs. The heat of his breath teased against her growing slick. Shivering with anticipation her hips bucked craving - no, needing Sebastian to provide relief to the ache between her legs.

“Sebastian - please,” she whined.

“Impatient,” he scolded. Despite his own clothed erection strained against his trousers twitching desperate to be buried inside his wife’s impossibly tight core. But to Sebastian there no more perfect sight than her laid out before him. Bare, flushed and eyes darkened with desire. A nymph from some Greek tragedy he hadn’t tamed; rather merely a disciple come to worship at her altar. “Such a good girl. Already so wet for me.”

Her fingers tangled harshly in his hair hips bucking as Sebastian at last ended her torment. Licking a broad stripe with the flat of his tongue across her weeping entrance. Her head fell back in a broken whine finally relieving her from her torture. Sebastian released a groan of his own against her folds, lapping more needly at the growing slick. Savouring every drop she offered him. A man lost in a desert and her his bountiful oasis.

He knew her body better than he knew his own. Chasing her keening mewls a wordless plea for more, pleasure only he could offer her as he flicked and curled his tongue against the hooded bundle of nerves. Releasing his grip on her hip to slide his fingers into her tight heat. Savouring how her fluttering walls gripped him as he worked her open with every pump and curl of his fingers.

Her back arched, legs shaking the cool satin sheets scrunched in her fists as she writhed in ecstasy. Clinging desperately to them a last bastion of as she teetered on the edge of oblivion.

He chanced a glance up at her, mouth still servicing her fervently. Their eyes locked her voice caught on a silent plea for release. Sebastian sucked. Devouring her quivering clit and she broke.

Screaming curses and praise to forgotten deities her body jerking to grind frantically against his tongue. Sebastian’s hips rutted forward into nothingness as her body clenching around his fingers as he brought her to climax. His own need growing almost unbearable as he felt her dissolved into pleasure needing to feel that pulsing release around his cock not just his fingers.

His patience was now paper thin, he needed to be inside of her and from the way her fingers tugged at his chestnut hair impatiently as her orgasm ebbed - she seemed to agree.

Bed springs creaked as he crawled onto the bed beside her. He slid his hands along the dip of her waist gripping her soft flesh to flip her onto her stomach.

She peering back at him from over her shoulder. Her lips were swollen, her hair in a wild tangle but her eyes burning into him as if she could set him alight - daring him to take her as she arched her hips up and back towards Sebastian.

Gripping her side he bared down on her. Large body resting heavily against her back she curled up into him sighing contentedly at the feeling of his weight resting against her.

How many wizards had coveted her affection since their school days? Cursed the very ground Sebastian walked on because since the day she’d become his. His cock achingly hard grinding against her arse at the mere thought of her wearing the reminder to them all exactly who she belonged to under her dress.

He scrambled with the buttons on his breeches before pulling them off entirely cock springing free arching proudly and achingly hard. Slit glistening in anticipation that coil inside of him already tightly wound at the mere thought of filling her.

"Going to fuck even more of my kids into you," he purred low in her ear as he settled himself between her legs dragging the head of his cock through her spit-slicked folds. Their nerves practically vibrating with carnal anticipation.

She cried out, broken and rasping as Sebastian finally pressed into her with a strong deliberate thrust. Stretching her open inch by inch groaning low, his head falling against her back when he buried himself inside her to the hilt. The sheen of sweat coating her back salty on his tongue as he mouthed brainlessly at her bare flesh.

“Fuck,” she hissed as Sebastian began to cant his hips in deep maddening strokes. He hadn't expected such a lustful fog to overcome him. Like some primitive part of his brain had overcome him and now he was entirely consumed with the thought of her. Filling her with seed.

His eyes flicked up catching their reflection in the mirror. Sebastian groaned her name as he watched himself pounding into her relentlessly. Tiny body nestled under his own her spine curved in pleasure but her face was buried in the sheets. Stifling the delicious sounds of ecstasy she only made for him into the mattress.

Sebastian grunted in annoyance. Snapping his hips harder she only seemed to bit down harder on the sheets.

He didn’t just want her to feel him filling her with life; he wanted her to bear witness to it.

Tucking his arm around her waist he hauled her up flush against his body. Her yelp of surprise dissolving into a moan as the new angle had her sinking deeper onto his cock. Her back pressed against his chest she rolled her hips, eyelashes fluttering as his crown teased against her sweet spot. Sebastian curled a possessive hand around her throat to keep her upright. The other kneaded her breast, rolling the pert peak between his fingertips.

Despite the utterly filthy position in which he took her. Sebastian’s hands were gentle, large arms cradling her body. He whispered sweet reverent praise and encouragement into her ear with every roll of her as she sought her pleasure.

“Look at you,” he whispered. Pressing a kiss to her temple coaxing her to look and witness how fucking perfect she was. Her eyes cracked open, gaze settling on the mirror in the corner of the room. Sebastian's reflection grinned at her. She blushed deeply at the sight but she made no move to cover herself. Eyes devouring the sight of her bare, legs spread wide and impaled on Sebastian's cock.

“Fucking look at you.” He punctuated the statement with a sharp buck of his hips into her cunt.

She whined desperately with every deep maddening thrust. She leaned back further into his embrace, head tipped back in a wanton moan but she didn't tear her eyes away. As if wishing to burn this moment into her mind. Cunt fluttering greedily around his cock, coaxing more slick onto his shaft.

“Fuck- you're taking me so well. Do you- fuck. Feel how deep I am inside you?” Sebastian groaned at the slight swell of her stomach. He released her breast hand ghosting down the planes of her stomach. “I can feel you clenching around me - fuck . Feel where I'm going to fill you. Where you'll grow our child.”

He barely recognised the cadence of his voice, low gravelly more akin to a growl than anything human. He pressed a little harder onto her stomach. Feeling the head of his cock against his palm, he groaned. Forehead fell against the crook of her neck pumping into his palm as he ground into her with deep thrusts. Gently teasing his thumb over the blunt head through her soft stomach.

She whined readily, shivering with pleasure sinking deeper onto his cock with every needy roll of her hips. Blood pounding in his ears Sebastian could feel the pressure mounting. He released his hold on her throat, taking hold of her hips so hard he knew even if his seed did not take her skin would still wear the marks for days.

Leaning back so she could rest against him, his toes curling in the sheets as he found purchase to thrust into her frantic. Her arm wrapped around his neck keening and whimpering with every strong thrust.

“Please Seb- fuck. I need,” she rasped. Too deliriously close to the edge to tell him what she needed. What they both craved so desperately.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he grunted. Peppering kisses behind her ear, along the curve of her jaw. “Do you want me to come deep inside you? Breed you? Make you mine again?”

“Yes. Gods. Yes!”

“Tell- tell me,” he grunted. Clutching her hips to pound up into her brutally. The coil inside of him tightened, feeling his release rushing in. Visions narrowing and cock twitching eagerly. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“I-I want your seed. Your baby. You. Please, Seb- fuck,” she cried out.

Deft fingers found her clit. Still so sensitive from how he’d already made her quake. Sebastian circled the swollen nub and her head tipped back in a husky moan. Grinding her hips against him, Glistening with a thin sheen of sweat everywhere their bodies were intertwined.

“You're going to look so perfect. So bloody beautiful carrying our child. My child.”

She gasped as that familiar feeling pooled in her core. “Fuck- Seb please. I'm close.”

“Fuck I can feel you. So tight - around my cock. Let go for me, my love. And I will ah - for you,” Sebastian groaned into the shell of her ear.

Despite his vision blurring as Sebastian teetered so close to the edge of nirvana, he couldn't tear his eyes from their reflection. He doubted there was a more mesmerising and all-consuming sight than watching her come completely undone. Head tipped back all words stolen by how expertly he fucked her so a tune to her body. Beads of sweat clung to every curve and dip on her.

Shimmering. Beautiful. His .

Teasing faster circles over her still-swollen clit. Bucking into her hard and faster. Biting down on his lip so hard he tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue as he desperately held back his release. A final uneven snap of his hips burying his cock deep inside her climax broke.

She cried out suddenly; a clap of thunder announcing a storm. Like the heavens split apart and she submitted to drown in the waves of her pleasure. Nails clawing against his shoulder. Cunt tightened and spasmed as she sucked him in impossibly deeper as Sebastian followed her. Pulling her hips down as her came hard.

Her name and filthy praise erupted from his lips in a sound he could only liken to a primal whine. Spilling his seed hot and purposeful into the deepest part of her channel. Grinding against her arse, Sebastian milked every last drop from his pulsing cock.

Willing it to take root.

Her body slumped against him boneless but every nerve alight and still shivering from the last throws of pleasure as her orgasm ebbed. Rasping in broken pants as she tried to recapture her stolen breath.

He kissed her cheek, tender, lovingly and with as much gentleness as Sebastian could muster with how he practically rattled with how hard his heart was hammering against his ribs; he shifted strong arms guiding her onto her side. Cock still sheathed inside of her. Unwilling to remove himself from her his mind still overcome and entirely consumed with the need to fill her with life.

Sebastian pushed his release deeper inside her with shallow thrusts. She whimpered hips bucking away from the overstimulation of the motion. He peppered soft apologetic kisses across the small bruises beginning to bloom around her throat wrapping his arms around her and cradling her body to him tighter. But Sebastian held firm. Hand pressing against her stomach a silent prayer. Willing his seed to take.

"I love you. You're going to look so beautiful. Full of my baby," he cooed, with a languid roll of his hips. Tucking her a sweaty lock of tangled hair behind her ear. She sighed, angling her face to meet his gaze. Dishevelled. Swollen lipped. Beautiful. Her soft crooked and familiar yet it still takes his breath away.

He'd once thought the greatest thing he could do was burn the world for her. But now he knew - It was to build one.

A life. A legacy. One that they forged and fought for together. Everything, as long as it was with her.

Despite his efforts to keep her full of him, he could already feel it leaking out around his shaft, hot and slick, coating her thighs. The crown of his cock dragged over her sweet spot before pushing his further in. “In fact - why stop at one this time? Twins do run in my family.”

“I don't think that's how it works-” she stuttered. But her core clenched greedily around his cock. Still stiff and firmly inside of her, it twitched with approval.

“Care to test the theory?”

#i headcannon dadbod seb so hard #daddy!seb #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow smut

1K notes · View notes

r0-boat · 8 months ago

Note

Hii, could I request a nsfw headcanos with Leviathan, Lucifer and Beelzebub. How would these kings react when they're doing the 👉👌 with MC and suddenly, somebody interrupts them.

Asldhfkld I just really love your writing to this fandom 💖💖

Yes!! Thank you so much thank you for adopting me into your fandom I am just a lonely writer looking for a home 🥺

Whb kings

Leviathan, Lucifer, Beelzebub

Reaction to demons walking in on them and Mc

Nsfw

Part 2 here

Leviathan

Using his cum as lube, He grabs over your legs, holding you in half. Climbing on top of you, He presses his whole body down onto yours, Your legs over his shoulders as he begins to pound hard, deeper mercifully. His whole coffin begins to creek as the sound of his balls slapping against your skin fills the room. And even then, the sound of the door opening cuts through like a hot knife through butter. He slams his cock deep inside, holding it there. His grip on your hips tightens, digging his fingers into your skin. Leviathan flips you onto your stomach pressing your head against the pillow blocking your vision the same time smothering you.

He growls at whatever idiot that decided now was the time to bother him. He didn't even get to see who it was.

"Hang!" He shouts. The door immediately shuts probably the rope taking the demon with it.

They could hang there choking till he's done for all he cares. No one gets to see you sweaty messy and filled.

Lucifer

His hips slowly grind into you. He holds you close to his body, his lips gently kissing every inch of your neck. He goes slow at first making sure his hands touch and feel every inch of your body, He wants to make sure his cock memorizes every squeeze and pulse. And he needs you to feel every vein and curve has he tries to get to know more of your insides. Trying to find every spot that makes you curl your toes, that makes you moan his name. His tongue slides into your mouth when he begins to speed up his hands lifting you with ease as he uses you like a toy, space begins to quicken when he feels you clench.

He buried his nose into your neck His teeth was just about the sink into your skin until.

The door opens, and Lucifer's eyes widen using the blankets he covers his and your body. He lets out an animalistic hiss, His eyes going black, his Little tufts of bloodied feathers ruffling. If the demon valued their life, they would leave the room.

Beelzebub

Making you scream and cry out his name, his harsh pace of his hips smacking against yours does not falter even as he hears the door open.

It was Bael, with paperwork in hand, about ready to yell at his king for yet again skipping out on work. Beel only smirked at his new audience member manhandling your body till you laid against his chest as he thrust up into you, showing his noble all that you have to offer. Bael stops in place from the scene before him. His eyes widened, his cheeks flushed, and his pants tightened.

With you still rising and whimpering his name Beel gave the demon in front of him a shit eating grin.

"as you can see I'm very busy, but I suppose I don't mind putting on a show~"

#whb beelzebub #whb mc #whb #whb x reader #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #whb lucifer #smut #whb smut #whb headcanons #whb fanfic

753 notes · View notes

merbear25 · 27 days ago

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Ace, Law, and Kid x Reader, where they're already in an established relationship, and this might be based on a TikTok trend, but Reader calls them "Buddy, Pal, etc.* To see their reaction?

Hello! Thanks for sending in a request! I decided to go with some headcanons, so I hope you like it. 💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, headcanons

Calling them “buddy and pal” for a trend (Ace, Law, Kid)

Ace

Wait what? He felt himself malfunction a little.

He did a double take when he heard you calling him “pal” and “buddy”.

“So, I’m your buddy now?” He nudged you. There was a playful smirk on his face.

“Yeah, we’re good pals. Wouldn’t you say?” You pushed further.

Alright. He could play along and he’d win.

“Then I guess I’m single then. Such a shame… I really liked you too.” He feigned the loss of your relationship.

The look on your face was priceless. Your expression dropped when he didn’t tell you he was only kidding.

He didn’t want to string your little heart along for any longer than necessary, but you trying to convince him it was just a trend on social media was pretty funny.

Cracking a smile, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“That wasn’t funny!” You exclaimed. He pulled you into a hug, still chuckling at the sight of your bashful appearance.

Law

A cocked eyebrow and a judgemental frown—He was not amused.

He saw your phone was out and you were clearly filming, hoping for some type of reaction. However, he was reluctant to give it to you.

You kept throwing out those lines to see if he’d bite, but he just stared at you in silence.

The side-eyeing you gave was a sweet little reward for him.

“Is this reaction not good enough?” he asked cooly.

You tripped over your words in an attempt to dig yourself out of the hole you were in.

He simply nodded and huffed in faint amusement.

You were a strange one, but he couldn’t deny how adorable you were when you were called out: flustered expression, fumbling your words, clumsy explanations.

“You’re cute” was all you got out of him.

Kid

Excuse you?? was his first thought.

He looked visibly bothered, and the emotion was biting at the tips of his ears. His first instinct was to huff and puff, unintentionally giving you the reaction you were fishing for.

For a moment he gave you that content, but it didn’t last for long.

When he saw that mischievous glint in your eyes, he caught onto your little game.

A wicked grin spread on his face, thinking he could play along.

He threw you a few curve balls to ruffle your feathers, which drew out some entertaining scoffs.

You were both heated with embarrassment as the situation dawned on both of you.

You, of course, had to be the bigger person, due to Kid’s stubbornness.

Whatever puffs of anger that were exuding from you transformed into hearty laughs because of the ridiculousness of it all.

#one piece #x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x you #op #one piece headcanons #ace one piece #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace x you #law x reader #law trafalgar #trafalgar law #law x you #kid x reader #kid x you #eustass kid

221 notes · View notes

lesbiankimdahyun · 2 months ago

Note

G!p Karina hosting a Halloween costume party and choosing you as the winner for best dressed/costume. The prize being that you get to sleep with her.

thank you i loved writing this i hope u enjoy! A03 link is here

FIRST PRIZE: A Halloween Special

4.4K words

[GP!Karina x F!Reader]

CW: GP, alcohol, brief weed mention

Guest appearances: MAMAMOO’s Moonbyul and Solar

Your job had been cool about you working fully remotely during the height of the pandemic, but now after two years, they finally asked you to relocate. Your boss was able to compensate you for the move to D.C., which helped, but coming from San Francisco, the East coast culture shock was brutal. Starting over in a new city was intimidating, but at least you had your work bestie Karina to hang out with now that the two of you lived in the same city.

Having only seen and interacted with her through Zoom on your laptop about (mostly) work-related things, you were a little nervous that the friendship would fade or ruin your working relationship, but over the summer, you found it had the opposite effect. The more you saw of Karina’s authentic offline self, the more comfortable you felt with her, and being able to make Karina laugh felt like winning the lottery. You were absolutely harboring a crush on her, but you kept hoping maybe it would go away in time, too afraid to let her know about your feelings.

But months later when she invited you to a huge Halloween bash she was hosting, you knew your crush on her wasn’t going away any time soon. Her massive apartment, which she shared with her roommate, a girl named Winter you’d met a couple times, was decorated from the floor to the ceiling for the occasion. Perfectly placed cobwebs, a plethora of real, carved jack-o-lanterns lined the mantle of the living room’s fireplace, and the staircase that led up to their bedrooms had tiny, fake candles on each step, adding a warm glow. Karina had used plenty of LED lights too, leaving sections of the apartment cast in eerie purple and red light. Despite the free flowing alcohol, available weed and other Halloween goodies supplied for the party, it was Karina herself that had your rapt attention.

“You made it!” she said when you arrived, pulling you in for a hug. Her costume was decadent and extravagant, but not so over the top that it limited her range of motion. She’d chosen to go as Glinda the Good Witch. “I like Elphaba better,” she admitted, “but I didn’t want to commit to green skin.” Instead, she’d committed to a Swarovski-jeweled crown, a short, perfectly pink ruffle dress, complete with embroidery work near the bust and tiered tulle to add volume to the skirt. She had a silver, jewel-covered scepter that matched her crown, and wore extra blush to accent all of the pink details. On anyone else, it would’ve looked very cute, but Karina’s lethal beauty and aloof personality made the overall look devastatingly stunning instead.

When she pulled away from you, she eyed you and your costume with interest. “Talk about treasure,” she said. “Should I call you Jack or Jackie Sparrow?”

You felt yourself blush a bit. “Whatever you like,” you said. Karina smirked in response, taking another moment to look at the pieces you’d put together for your Pirates of the Caribbean-inspired outfit. You’d gone to great lengths to gender-bend your take on Jack Sparrow just the way you wanted, and based on Karina’s reaction, it seemed to be paying off. For your look, you’d combined a brown, satin corset top with bronze buckles, a black chiffon tiered waterfall maxi skirt, a black frill tie blouse with flared sleeves, a black lace necklace, brown knee length boots that matched your corset, a few long pearl necklaces to go with the lace necklace, gold hoop earrings, gold rings, and a brown faux leather pirate hat with a single feather on one side.

Karina suddenly reached forward, brushing her hand along your thigh. “What’s this?” she asked curiously. “A black lace garter? Wow, Y/N, you really pull out all the stops, don’t you?” You let out a shy laugh in response. Karina took your hand then. “Come on,” she said, leading you through the crowd. She pulled you into the kitchen, where Winter was busy grabbing more alcohol.

“Win-ter,” Karina sing-songed, “Look who's going to enter my costume contest!” Her roommate turned around and the two of you took a moment to take in each other’s costumes.

“No way,” you said, admiring her black, white and pink futuristic superhero look. “Uravity? From My Hero Academia?” Winter beamed. “ Finally , I’m recognized,” she said, coming over to give you a light hug, careful to avoid bonking you with her headpiece as she hugged you. “Everyone keeps thinking I’m some sort of Barbie Buzz Lightyear,” she said with a quick pout and eye roll. “But wow, look at you!” She took your hand, and you spun for her to show off all sides of your costume. She and Karina exchanged a brief look, and then Winter nodded. “So you're in the contest, huh? I bet you'll win” she said.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” you said, “But I don’t know even know if I actually want t--”

Karina cut you off. “Trust me,” she said, placing a hand on your shoulder. Her glittery, pink nails stood out against the brown and black colors of your costume. “You want to be in this. My Halloween costume contests always come with prizes, even if you don't win! ”

“Really?” you asked. “Well what does the winner get then?”

Karina grinned. “Y/N, I can’t just tell you what the winner gets,” she said. “Where’s the fun in that? Why not play to win and find out for yourself,” she said. The way she said it was sassy, almost flirtatious. Wait. There's no way Karina would be flirting with me, you thought.

“Hmm…” you said, pretending to mull it over while moving toward the kitchen sink, where the drink supplies were. You grabbed a black plastic cup and looked around for ice, but Karina came over beside you, interrupting your search. “Let me,” she said, gently plucking your cup out of your hands while Winter handed her a bottle of deep purple Empress gin. The gin’s purple color turned pinkish when she added a splash of lime and tonic water to the gin, but it remained largely purple even after ice was added too, letting you know the drink had way more alcohol than mixer in it. You went to take a sip, but Karina stopped you. “Wait,” she said, reaching for a small, plastic packet and ripping it open.

“What's that?” you asked, tipping your cup away.

“Relax,” Karina said, showing you a bit of the light, powdery substance in her palm. She dipped a finger in it and put it up to her lips, licking the substance off. “Edible glitter,” she explained. “See?” She dipped her finger back into the glitter and then held it up near your mouth.

“Try it,” she said, and you found yourself obeying and opening your mouth for her, tongue slightly out. Karina lightly pressed the pad of her finger to your tongue, and a wave of heat rolled over you. If the edible glitter had any taste at all, it was completely overpowered by the salty taste of Karina’s fingertip. Karina’s eyes flicked from your tongue, then up at you. Your cheeks burned at the intimacy.

“So… you'll be in the costume contest, then?” she asked, taking a small step back. You held out your cup for Karina to add some edible glitter to your drink, which she did.

“Oh alright,” you said. “Why not?”

The rest of the party was a blur. Karina insisted on making all of your drinks, leaving you beyond buzzed but feeling extremely sociable. You chatted with a girl dressed as a ‘hot version of Moo Deng’, danced and shouted ‘Yes, chef!’ with a few folks dressed as the cast of The Bear, and drunkenly gushed over a stunning sapphic couple dressed as Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan and Pink Pony Club Chappell Roan. On occasion throughout the night, Karina would steal you away to dance to Rob Zombie or Kim Petras. A few times while you danced, you'd find her suddenly behind you, hand lightly brushing over your waist. Your brain was operating at a hundred miles a minute, but you put it out of your mind so you could focus on meeting a few of Karina and Winter’s other mutual friends: a girl named NingNing who rocked a modern Cruella DeVil costume, and another girl named Giselle who was dressed as a high glam-drag version of HIM from the Powerpuff Girls– sans facial hair.

Just after midnight, Karina gathered everyone for the costume contest in the spacious living room. You joined the other contestants in the center of the room: Statue of Liberty Chappell, hot Moo Deng, and Giselle.

“Before we start,” Karina said, “I should let all of the contestants know that second and third place prizes will be given out here at the party, but first place will need to stick around afterward to claim the grand prize, okay?” The four of you nodded while the rest of the party attendees applauded lightly in anticipation. Fourth place wound up going to ‘hot Moo Deng,’ and Giselle took third.

Karina presented Giselle with a plastic, orange pumpkin bucket intended for trick-or-treating. There was a couple handfuls of candy inside, but in addition to pumpkin-shaped Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and candy corn, Karina and Winter had filled the buckets with mini bottles of alcohol, edibles, and liquid hydration packets. Then, Karina gave Giselle a celebratory strawberry lemon drop shot, which was, of course, perfectly pink to match her Glinda costume. Everyone clinked their plastic cups together, ready to take a sip of their drinks while Giselle had her shot. Her large claw attachments, though, made her unable to take the tiny shot glass out of Karina’s hand. For a supposedly good witch, Karina seemed extra amused by Giselle's struggle. With her other free hand, Karina held Giselle’s face, her thumb on one of Giselle’s cheeks, the rest of her fingers on the other.

“Aw, does our big bad villain need some help?” she asked mockingly. Giselle feigned annoyance and nodded. Karina whispered something in Giselle’s ear then, and then Giselle rolled her eyes for real before opening her mouth. Everyone cheered as Karina knocked the shot back into Giselle’s mouth. Karina laughed, making a show out of having Giselle open her mouth again to prove she’d swallowed it all.

Your hands started to sweat a bit while you and Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan waited to find out who the winner would be. You honestly had no idea which way the costume contest would go. You knew your costume was pretty good overall, but Statue of Liberty Chappell, whose real name was Moonbyul, had really gone all out, even painting herself the same color as the actual Statue of Liberty. To hype up the crowd, Karina took the partygoers’ temperature by standing behind Moonbyul, holding a hand over the girl’s head.

“Who’s feeling sexy Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan?” she asked, and the crowd responded by applauding as Moonbyul posed, holding up her torch triumphantly. When the clapping died down, she moved behind you, and you knew her hand was hovering somewhere above your pirate hat. “What about our sexy Jackie Sparrow?” she asked, and the crowd erupted in louder applause, including a few wolf whistles from somewhere in the back.

Karina grinned at the partygoers. “I thought so too,” she said matter-of-factly. “It looks like we have a consensus, then. Second place goes to Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan!” There was more applause, and Pink Pony Club Chappell, whose real name was Solar, shrieked in excitement for her girlfriend. Winter presented Moonbyul with her own plastic pumpkin bucket full of the same goodies Giselle had received. Another strawberry lemon drop shot was brought out for Moonbyul. But instead of letting Moonbyul take the shot herself, Karina held onto it.

“Since it’s my party, I want to do things my way, tonight” Karina said. “So open up, Chappell,” she said, grinning mischievously. “Forgive me, Solar,” she said, turning back toward Pink Pony Club Chappell Roan for a moment before coaxing Moonbyul’s mouth open so she could pour the shot down Moonbyul’s throat. “Now for those of you who have been to my parties before, you know the second place winner usually also comes with a kiss from me, but girl…” Karina said, “Keep those green Statue of Liberty lips away from me! She’s alllll yours, Solar,” Karina said with a laugh.

A kiss? ! What kind of costume contest between friends was this? Before you could ruminate on it, Karina was beside you, taking your hand and holding it up proudly. “And now give it up for this year’s costume contest winner!” The crowd roared with drunken cheers. You felt Karina’s hand near your thigh again. “Don’t you all just love this garter? I think it’s my favorite part,” she said, her fingers trailing over the black lace detail. Another strawberry lemon drop shot was handed to Karina, and she turned to face you.

“You know the drill by now, don’t you?” she asked playfully. “Open up, Y/N.” The tart tang of lemon, alcohol, and a bit of sweetness from the strawberry burned while it made its way down your throat. She then leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear while she whispered to you. “You’ll get your prize later, okay?”

The party reverted back to the way it was, but not for long. By the time 1:30 AM rolled around, the party was winding down as some partygoers headed out to make appearances at other parties, while others trickled out to hit the clubs before they closed. You collapsed on the couch, making conversation with the last few party stragglers while they gathered their shoes and costume parts, getting ready to leave.

“Are you gonna be okay t’get home?” You looked up to see Giselle standing above you, swaying lightly, clearly a bit drunk. You sat up and nodded, scooching over so she could sit down and focus the remainder of her energy on ordering an Uber home.

“This was sooo fun,” she said, her words blurring together a bit. She pulled off her costume’s red claw attachments so she could use her hands normally again. Then she turned to you. “Hey, we should go– er, hang out sometime,” she said. You almost missed what she said entirely, distracted by the sleek, black thigh high boots she was wearing and the way her red fishnets popped beneath them. And wait-- is that part latex? How on earth were all of Karina’s close friends this hot, too?

“Hm?” you said, needing a moment to register what she’d just said. “Oh! I’d like that,” you said, smiling. Forgetting about the rideshare app open on her phone, she handed the small rectangle to you. “Put your number in!” she said, bouncing a bit. Her shoulder brushed against yours, sending a tiny, electric jolt through your right arm. You started to feel warm as Giselle rested her chin on your shoulder to watch as you swiped away from the pending rideshare pickup and tapped the phone icon to add your number.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked, sitting back a bit when you were done. You returned her phone to her and nodded. “Karina’s into you,” she blurted. You threw Giselle a quizzical look while your heartbeat raced. “Wh-what?” you asked. “Where’d you get that idea from?”

Giselle just giggled to herself, rummaging through her bag to make sure all of her belongings were still present, then looped her arm through the handle of her Halloween bucket prize. “She does this every year,” she replied. “You’ll see. That glittery scepter of hers isn’t the only disco stick she likes to use.” She stood up, her driver just a minute or two away now. Giselle flipped her long, black hair back and gave you one last look over her shoulder. “She’d fucking kill me if she knew I said this…” she gave you one last onceover. “If you aren’t satisfied with your prize… let me know.”

“Huh?” you said, but Giselle didn’t explain. She was already heading toward the front door, where Karina was hugging NingNing and Winter goodbye. Wait , you thought. Didn’t Winter live here? Why was she leaving? You looked around for any other remaining partygoers, but realized you were about to be alone.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Karina said apologetically, coming over to you after everyone was officially gone. You stood and walked with her into the kitchen. “Did you have fun?” she asked. She poured you a glass of water as you nodded. “Your friends are really nice,” you said, taking the cup from her. “Especially Giselle.” Karina’s eyes flashed with an emotion you couldn’t read, but then she recovered and smiled. “Don’t I know it,” she said. “They’re the best.”

With the music at a much softer level and the purple and red LED lights off, the main floor of the apartment was dim and cozy, with the only remaining sources of light coming from the moonlight streaming in through the bay windows, the jack-o-lanterns on the fireplace mantle and the tiny, battery-powered fake flicker candles that stood on the edge of the steps leading upstairs. Your heart was pounding nervously in your chest now, unsure of what to expect. It was the first time you’d ever been alone with Karina in her apartment– normally Winter was there.

“Hey, where’d Winter go?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual. Karina shrugged a bit, walking back into the living room. “Oh,” she said, glancing back to make sure you followed her out. “She and NingNing decided to hit the club for a bit. I’m sure she’ll be back in a while,” she said. Anxiety quelled in your stomach. Something told you Winter would not be coming back anytime soon.

Karina instructed you to sit back down on the couch. “Are you ready for your prize?” she asked, grinning, and you nodded a little. “You’re not going to like, have a man in a bloody clown costume jump out at me or anything are you?” you asked. Karina laughed. “Y/N! You're so funny right now. Are you nervous ?” she asked teasingly.

“N-no, no,” you said. Of course Karina wouldn’t scare you, you thought. She was more into treats than tricks. Right? Before you could think it through, you found yourself adding, “If it’s anything like Moonbyul’s, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

“Oh?” Karina asked, taking off her crown and shaking out her hair. “Why’s that?”

You bit your tongue lightly as you watched her fingers run through her perfectly sleek, shiny hair. You absolutely could not say anything about her prizes coming with the promise of a kiss. Fuck . “Uh…” you lost your train of thought. “The…”

Karina smirked a little, watching your wheels spin as you tried to come up with a response. “I see,” she said, cutting you off. “Y/N,” she continued, and you looked up at her. “Close your eyes and wait for your prize, okay?” You nodded, glancing down before closing your eyes. For a moment, everything was silent and still, and then you felt added weight on the couch. You caught a whiff of Karina’s perfume, letting you know she was beside you now. And then you felt something– no, not something, some one brush against your lips. Karina was kissing you .

Desire spread through your body instantly. Your first instinct was to lean into it, but your head spun, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or Karina’s dizzying presence. You leaned back for a moment and your eyes fluttered open. Karina’s face was just inches away from yours.

“Is this okay?” she asked you softly, and you nodded. She leaned in and both of your eyes closed again while she kissed you. Her lips were warm and her tongue tasted sweet as it brushed against yours. Before you knew it, she was stripping you of your pirate hat, tossing it aside as she helped you lay down on the couch. Karina hovered above you, pressing herself gently against your corseted abdomen. Your breath hitched a little, making your chest heave as Karina’s hands wandered over your body lightly. Her hair tickled the sides of your face, waterfalling back over her shoulders while the two of you continued to make out. All of your senses were overwhelmed by her– her scent, her taste, and oh god , her touch.

But just a few minutes later, she stopped and sat up. “Are you alright?” you asked, slightly breathless. She nodded and stood, then helped you up. “How would you feel about getting out of these costumes?” she asked, her head cocked to one side.

Before you knew it, Karina was leading you upstairs. You barely had time to recognize that you were in Karina's room. She turned on a bit of soft light placed strategically underneath her bed so it wouldn’t blind either of you. “Do you want the rest of your prize?” she asked you. You nodded. Karina looked you up and down. “Then turn around,” she said. You did so, confused for a moment, but then you felt a tug on your corset. Karina was undoing your costume. She made quick work of the corset and your blouse, leaving you naked from the waist up. You felt her fingertips trail over your shoulders and down your arms, but just as soon as she was touching you, she stopped. You heard the sound of a zipper from behind you, and started to turn around.

“Ah, ah,” Karina said. “Not yet,” she said. You heard the sound of her dress fall to the floor and your heart skipped a beat in anticipation. Karina’s hands returned to your body as she gently slid down your maxi skirt and helped you out of your boots. Her fingers wandered back toward your neck to remove your pearl necklaces, but she left the black, lace collar. “Leave it,” she said when you brought a hand up to touch it. “I like it.” One of her hands gripped your waist while the other toyed with the black garter around your thigh. “Leave this, too…for now,” she murmured. Once the two of you were fully out of your costumes she pressed herself against you from behind. Her hands wandered over the front of your body and then suddenly, you felt it. You let out a small gasp. Karina was hard.

Giselle’s disco stick comment echoed in your ear for a moment. “Y/N?” Karina’s lips were near your ear, her voice soft. “Are you okay?”

You nodded wordlessly, resisting the urge to grind against her. Your mouth watered a little. “C-can I turn around yet?” you asked. Karina answered by physically turning your body to face her. You leaned in to kiss her immediately while also using one hand to reach forward, gingerly taking her cock in your hand. Karina moaned lightly as she kissed you, her hips jutting forward to meet your touch. The second Karina’s lips separated from yours, you dropped to your knees, curious to see what kind of other pretty sounds you could elicit from her. Karina let out a small huff of amusement, watching fixedly as you took her in your mouth.

“Eager, huh?” Karina murmured. Her teasing was short lived though as you bobbed your head on her length. You grew wet quickly, shifting your position a bit to try and relieve the ache between your thighs. Karina ran her hands through your hair, gathering it at the back of your head in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face while you blew her. You quickly realized, though, her true intent was to be able to guide your mouth on her cock, testing to see how much you could handle. When she’d had enough, she pulled you up, only to push you back onto her bed a moment later.

You were immediately hit by a wave of her scent, and then she was on top of you. She backed up a little and then leaned down, using her teeth to slide your garter down your thigh. Soon, it joined the rest of your costume on the floor while moved up and closer to you, kissing her way from your waist to your neck. You shivered a bit at her light touch, your hands weaving through her hair as she went. She used her knees to spread your legs, then pinned one of your wrists down to the bed.

You wanted to hold Karina’s gaze when she finally slid into you, but after the first couple inches, your eyes rolled back and closed. Full . You were absolutely full of Karina. It took her a minute or so to bottom out in you. By the time she did, both of you were breathing heavily. You let out a tiny whimper the moment she started to move, and she consoled you with a few kisses while she slowly, slowly picked up speed.

You felt magnetized to Karina as her body pressed tightly against yours while she fucked into you. Your wetness soon made it easy for her to pump her slick cock into you, and Karina took advantage of that. Her hips slammed into you as she went even faster, burying her head in your neck while your free hand wandered and explored over her body.

You were lost in each other's rhythms and hungry, fervent sounds until suddenly, Karina slowed down significantly. “Shit,” she breathed, “Oh, fuck…” she pulled out quickly. She came on your near-ruined cunt, rope after rope of cum covering you. Watching her cum nearly sent you over the edge, but you knew you’d need more.

The two of you said nothing for a few moments as you caught your breath, trying to wrap your head around the night.

“Karina?” you said.

“Y/N?” she replied in the same tone as you.

“I’m…” you hesitated for a moment, but your aching cunt forced you to continue. “I’m on birth control– I mean, just so you know,” you said, your voice tapering off slightly.

Karina’s eyebrows flew up, but then she grinned. She gently flipped you onto your stomach, rearranging you so your ass was up toward her waist. “Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “This time,” she said, lining herself up with your slick entrance, “I want you to touch yourself while I fuck you, okay?”

#aespa smut #GP!aespa #GP!Karina #aespa x fem reader #aespa imagines #anonymous #ask #answered

169 notes · View notes