Fem!reader - Blog Posts

MASTERLIST!!

Reminder! More will be put as I post more of my yan! headcanons and fics!

JUJUTSU KAISEN

YANDERE CHARACTERS

Yan!Gamer

Yan!Patron

Yan!Rockstar

Yan!Hero pt1

Yan!Satoru and Yan!Suguru Pt2!! (｡’▽’｡)♡

A/N: I plan on making a recent gojo and geto hc or fic, and then maybe a fic of the yan teen sillies!

CW: barista!nonsorcerer!gn!reader, murder, creepiness

word count: 491

Yan!satoru who became a regular (and by regular i mean coming back everytime you had your shift) at the cafe you work at, nagging to take an early break so he gets to ask you all about your day. Yaga is on his ass everytime he makes a detour from his mission if it's near the cafe, but to him, it's just a cursed spirit, why can't he just take a peek on how you're doing? He'll keep up the line to blabber how jujutsu high is just too mean on him and that he doesn't deserve the mistreatment, which often leads you into pushing him out of the way. (Which is fine by him, anything is fine if you're doing it.)

Yan!suguru who isn't fond of coffee, but sucking it up because it's you we're talking about. If you're making his coffee, it's the sweetest thing ever, even if it's pure black coffee. If he's having a bad day, a simple latte you made yourself makes it the brightest day ever. He'll ask about your day and subtly persuade you to go on a date (to him, atleast) after your shift is over. What a smooth talker. Geto is also a great listener, if you're ranting to him on your break about how nagging these customers are or how you got a burn from a customer spilling coffee, he won't try to shut you up.

Yan!SatoSugu who goes shopping with you after your shift, making you try on all kinds of luxuries, all kinds of jewelry, everything. They stop by some stores with house decor too, if you like it, they'll buy it, one for you, two for them. You ask if they liked it too, they just shrug and say it feels special to them.

Yan!SatoSugu who have practically a makeshift shrine of momentos and anything you like or has your dna (Suguru got his hands on the pencil you chewed on before Gojo, Satoru is still mad at him.), with pictures of you all together, or photos of you sleeping, everything you do is cherished with love and admiration.

Yan!SatoSugu who refuse to let you near an area that they're in a mission on. Oh, this is your apartment? Too bad, cursed spirit, you can't get killed. Satoru will whine and try to get you to live in the dorms, not like Yaga would let him anyways. But it's much safer than your apartment, think of all the cursed spirits crawling there!

Yan!SatoSugu who don't let anyone get close to you, either they go missing or cutting contact with you, your friendships never last long. They're the only friends you need, why be friends with everyone else? Not to mention those people could be trying to get their way close to them, to make them let their guard down just to stab them in the back. Don't you care about their protection??

Yan!Patron!! ♡＾▽＾♡

A/N: I'll be making a masterlist and introduction soon! (˘³˘)♡

CW: gn!artist!reader, manipulation, stalking, candid photos, indebt!struggling!reader, kidnapping, murder, torture, handcuffing, and slight manipulation.

word count: 510!!

Yan!patron who commissions you weekly for a new piece of art every week or so. Either stating that it's to impress some rich folks or just to display around his mansion(s). No piece goes unanalyzed, he'll inspect the type of paint you use, how thick or thin the strokes were, the way you painted every detail with him in mind, all so adorable.

Yan!patron who is actually a really important figure in political and economical business. Not that he'd ever tell you, he uses a pen name whenever he contacts, though whoever is delivering your new piece actually has to deliver to his door. Even going as far as to order the delivery guy to wear gloves so their fingerprints don't ruin your precious work.

Yan!patron who has a whole room dedicated to you and your art, yes, you too. Candid photos he took of you painting and doing everyday things, it's not his fault he just happened to have a spare mansion coincidentally built recently near your lowly apartment! His favorite one (which is you looking like an angel while sleeping) is framed in old Amazon wood he gained at an auction.

Yan!patron who pays you more than your commissions ask for, but he takes so much pity on you! You're a struggling artist trying to balance bills, deadlines, and college debt! Why can't you let him spoil you?? (And in spoiling means little by little making you feel like you owe him something)

Yan!patron who only wants the best for you, which is why he kidnapped you. Look, he has hitmans on him all the time! What happens if people found out you were valuable to him? They could harm you!! He made sure that the basement is cleaned and there's to be no speck of dust to be found, following with a lavish bed and wardrobe (some which are from your own, and some that are Yan!patron's choice) that could be your old bedroom based on size. Not to mention your favorite flowers, a bathroom, and a pile of welcome gifts!

Yan!patron who treats you like glass, carefully stroking your red, tear stained cheeks like you also were a piece of art. So the saying that the artist was as beautiful as their art was true after all. Not to worry, you'll be out of your binds soon, just as soon as he finds you not wanting to escape.

Yan!patron who still makes you paint, having plenty of canvases and rich paints. Oil, acrylic, water colors, pastels, any you could imagine. He likes the self portraits you make for him, he'll have a room dedicated to those soon.

Yan!patron whose maids go missing after they say something distasteful or even go as far touch touch your art, how dare they? Can't they see your art surpasses the great mona lisa itself? Don't worry, they're not in the basement with you, isn't it great that Yan!patron has a Victorian mansion WITH a torture chamber? What a bargain!

Yan!Satoru and Yan!Suguru!! (>ω<)

A/N: reqs are open!!

CW: Overbearingness, stalking, lying, gn!reader, murder

Word count: 450

Yan!Satoru who is overbearing towards you all the time, sorcerer or not, you're his (not really responsible for) responsibility! He's the strongest, not the wisest, and the most handsome! Why do you want to listen to someone that isn't him?? Satoru is always sticking his nose where it isn't supposed to be! Your house is going to be inspected by the inch (to know your interests and more about you), your wardrobe is going to be judged thoroughly, just in case you need an entire new one.

Yan!Suguru who, though not as overbearing as Satoru, still seems to be everywhere. You're going to the grocery shop to help your mom? No worries, he can help you carry everything, no need to hurt your precious fingers with those heavy plastic bags. You're planning to travel to [insert random place in japan], that place is crawling with cursed spirits (no, it isn't)! Let him go with you! But like Satoru, Geto will be inspecting everything you like or not, even keeping a prized list for events he can give you a gift on.

Yan!SatoSugu who have some kind of love rivalry, it's not one where they hate each other, just an one upping competition or a 'who can find more stuff about Y/N than the other' competition. (it was a tie, they're both stalkers.) They also both spoil you to no end, their jobs as sorcerers pay them well, and who else to be their reason to blow money off their wallets? Clothes, expensive dinners, gifts, anything you could imagine.

Yan!SatoSugu who intimidates anyone who even tries to start any relationship with you. Who wouldn't be intimidated by a sorcerer who is quite literally the honored one, and the other who can somewhat par with said honored one? With non-sorcerers, though, it'd be a little more difficult. No worries! Even if they continue because they aren't intimidated by some teens in weird uniforms, Satoru's and Suguru's powers aren't for show! Though, they won't deal with them if you're there, no need for you to see the grotesque form as what Satoru calls them; 'unwanted attention seeker' took!

Yan!SatoSugu who met you at their favorite cafe, seeing your warm smile greet them when the doorbell rang. Honestly they felt like they were in a J-Drama Romance! And how you recognized them when they visited again (who wouldn't with Satoru's blue eyes that stare into your soul are…beautiful?), they never felt butterflies in their chest like this. Satoru finally got the courage to ask for your number after 10 minutes of processing with Suguru, which you happily gave. And that's practically how the friendship (on your end) started.

Hi gang 🧍

So...yeah 💕 @gilverrwrites posts and their anons yapping about Guy Gardner Being sweaty and fucking in full Nelson, I took it upon myself to write for him. I am also posting this so I am forced to finish this.

Tackling writers block one bit of peer pressure at a time / HJ

Edit: fic is out. Link

Rundown

Warning: dubcon/noncon themes in part one, dirty talk, scummy Price, implied age gap, babysitter! Reader, Wife is named, cheating, Price has a chronic need for a wife that makes him happy, nsft, brief breeding kink, one usage of daddy, p in v, no protection

Original prompt by ceilidho

Reblogs, likes and comments are much appreciated!

Part 1 | part 2

"Mr Price- I tried to-" You were stammering, a whole new tremor running through you. As you started with big watery eyes. "I tried to tell you..."

But you gasped as you felt another roll of his hips stutter forward. John guided your frozen body to twist around, pressing your back to the mattress as you hiccuped. Apologizing over and over as your eyes recoiled from his unwavering gaze. Pressing his cock back into your tight heat with a deep groan from his chest. His eyes glazed over as he stared down at your meak form.

Another rut made you preen. Blinking through thick tears as your lips parted. Hands reaching up and tugging on his shirt. "Please- I can't-"

"ssh." He silenced, squeezing your cheeks so your lips smooshed together. Forced to pucker as you sniffed. "Quite pet."

He was thinking with his dick. He knew. Months upon months of nothing but his hand and itchy pillows. Not even twenty men could pry him from the clench of your sobbing pussy. He wasn't lying; you felt like heaven. John leaned down as he pressed his nose to your cheek. "Feel good?" He whispered, adjusting his grip on your face.

You hesitantly nod. Because it did. If felt amazing. Felt wicked. It was. This whole thing was wrong yet nothing has felt more right.

With that, Price let out a huff as he nodded your head for you. "Yeah?"

"ah huh.." was all you could breath out as you laid there. Hands grasping at his arms, nails scratching along the hair that covered them.

And your eyes rolled back as his hips picked up pace once again. His fingers threaded between yours as the press of his wedding band burned against you. Missing the way way his fingers pinched at your ring finger.

-- -- --

Neither of you talked about it. It was like it never happened at all. As it should have been. It should have never happened. You knew that and you were sure John knew that. It felt wrong to look at Colleen knowing that you left their house with John's cum drenching your underwear and threatening to roll down your legs. The peddle back home was agonizing as you felt the the squelch of your combined juices with each shift against the bike seat.

You considered quitting. It would be the right thing to do. It should be what you're doing instead of entering their house with a smile on your face and baby James gifted back into your arms. Accepting paychecks from manicured fingers as if the scent of her husband's sweaty cock hasn't stained your palm. How he's come home early, spotting you and asking in a hushed voice if the 'other misses' was home.

You should be sick with yourself. Disturbed how easily you fell down this rabbit hole. So willingly. Yet some part of you felt justified. They were miserable together and clearly only stayed for the baby. But even then, with how often Colleen left the house and called you up to do her duty as a mother you were beginning to doubt James was going to be their glue for much longer.

Did she know? Was she able to smell her perfume on your neck. The scent of her husband's cock on your breath. Did she see the missed specs of cum still in your hair? Did she care?

So many questions that gnawed at you more than any guilt did.

-- -- --

John's stubbornness was a double-edged sword. Once fixated on finally repairing his failing marriage now became an unbreakable wall to rip it to shreds. Not telling you about obvious signs of what remained of your debauchery, cooing to James late at night how his new mommy was going to be just so sweet for them both. Grinning at his son's small hands grabbing at you whenever you came over. The kid knew what he wanted just like his father.

It was a pride thing. He knew deep down. He's stopped enjoying the touch of his wife years ago. But he was a man of his word; he was committed to her happiness. Through sickness and in health. It's why he let her speak so coldly to him when her mood soured like a ripe lime. Why he kept his ring on her finger despite her tantrums and wails. He wouldn't stand for the mockery his men would snide at him being unable to keep his bird in check. Unable to keep her tucked under his arm.

But now, with you in the picture, that stubbornness could be shifted to a new track. He knew he was in trouble the minute he saw you. You weren't the most overly qualified, and your face had a glow that could have melted even hardened men such as him. He wouldn't doubt even Simon would relent to that shine in your pretty eyes.

James loved you. He seemed to crave your nurturing more than his own birth mother. And who was he to deny his son? His world.

So when Colleen was having another one of her fits; the only way you could tell James was even hers. So similar to the two, John had to cover his mouth as a smirk threatened to quirk on his lips. She slammed down the divorce papers and dared him with that glare of hers to finally give her up.

He just uncrossed his arms, nodding as he leaned forward, elbows perched on the table as he held out his hand. "Got a pen?"

"what-?!" She barked. Colleens eyes wide with shock.

"pen, love, do you have one?"

His wife knew when he wasn't joking. She's been with him long enough to see the signs. He wasn't calling her bluff this time. Her lips trembled for a moment before forcing themselves into a firm line as she slapped a pen down into his hand. Watching as how easily he wrote his signature and checked through each page.

As soon it was done she snatched the papers from him, thrusting her ring down up on the table with a noisy clatter. "I hope you enjoy that little skank of yours." Was all she could hiss before turning on her heel and storming out. Grabbing her purse and jacket and fumbling for her phone.

-- -- --

You got a call to return for another day on the job sooner than you expected. When you knocked on the door you were greeted with John's build looming over you. Expectant of your arrival. Grinning beneath his bushy mustache as he guided you into the home.

"where's Jammy?" You coo out, awaiting to be greeted by the baby but John just shook his head.

"just us, hon, she's taken him out today."

"then why-"

But he didn't let you question, cupping your jaw as he tilted your head up. And you knew instantly what you were here for. Swallowing as he led you to the couch, taking you right there. Pinning your soft body beneath his as your ankles dangled at his ears. His cock plunged ruthlessly into your needy core, heavy balls smacking against your ass as he grunted.

"gimme your hand, sweetheart." He coaxed, prying your hand from gripping his forearm as he pulled the ring from his pocket, his trousers hanging around his meaty thighs, slipping his ring around your finger and immediately letting out an almost pained coo. "Don't worry, we'll get it fitted. Looks so pretty on you."

But you were barely even able to moan from the air being punched out of your lungs with the way his cock was barging straight into your womb. Too fucked out to fully process what he was saying as your brain was replaced with cotton.

"my pretty little wife, gonna give me another one, ain't ya? Give your son a little brother, hm?"

You could only dumbly nod, probably agree to anything he said like this. Something he was going to keep a note of. Your pussy twitching at just the thought. The coil grew tighter and tighter. Your walls choking his cock making him groan.

"that's it, mama. Come for daddy-"

Rundown

Babysitter reader accidentally falling asleep in Price’s bed only to wake up to a big man crawling up behind her and shoving her legs apart while murmuring his wife’s name :\\ too bad she can’t correct him because the pillow keeps muffling her screams. - prompt by ceilidho

Warning: dubcon/noncon themes (reader doesn't verbally agree to sex but has wanted to fuck John secretly), somno kink, dirty talk, drunk! Price, implied age gap, babysitter! Reader, Wife is named, cheating, p in v sex, no protection, John's a nasty dog, Price is sloshed and can barely hold off his orgasm

Did i write this instead of sleeping? Yes. Do I have regrets? Many. I just couldn't stop thinking about this and knew I had to atleast try my hand.

Reblogs, likes and comments are much appreciated! Part two is available!

Part 1 | part 2

You've been babysitting for the price family for almost a month now. A small bundle of joy surprisingly docile in your arms after the wailinig for the baby boy would have cradled in her embrace. You hated the glare Colleen would snap your way as soon as her son shushed. You weren't sure why, at first you chalked it up to coincidence. Just the baby being well- a baby. But then you let yourself linger in her presence and found yourself curling away from the sting in your nostrils from the strength of her perfume. A lovely brand you had no way to afford, truely she was a woman to envy. Even in her years she's aged like wine; Rosé to be exact. She was primped and refined. A polished diamond with every sharp edge pointed in your direction. The many necklaces she adorned on her neck were chunky and sparkled with real gems that surely John has gifted to her over their marriage. Though, it made an uncomfortable resting spot for the babe.

But little James had much to protest about the way his mother's nails were too long and dug into his soft skin. To cry and scream when her perfume was just too much. When her makeup smeared against his chubby cheek and the new texture roused him into another fit. Only soothed once back in the arms clad in soft cardigans and sweaters, the smell of gentle floral soap and smooth skin against his own.

You've heard Colleen before bark at John to find a new sitter making small comments about how her baby clearly hates her. How neither of the men in her life seem to want her presence always resulting in a heavy sigh from John, firm words of curt comfort but she'd just bare her teeth and curl her painted lips. Not taking his words as anything more than another spew of thoughtless support. Not stopping her cries of woe until John has enough and grit words of defence through his grinding teeth.

You tried not to listen in; it wasn't your business after all but you couldn't help but feel pity. Some days it was for Colleen, clearly stressed and trying to latch onto something she can't quite grasp. But other days you felt a deep pity for John; peering in with little James bouncing in your hold as he sat at the dining room table with his head in his hands. Shoulders sagging down with the weight of the world digging into them.

Poor little James having to hear all this. Often, you tried to keep him distracted with the jingle of your keys or read out of a storybook to drown out their thunderous voices.

There's been a time Johns found you like that, huddled up by the crib shushing and slowly rocking the baby to sleep. A storybook in your lap and a relieved slumped as you stare at James' sleeping face. And so, to avoid waking up his son, he'd get close to your ear, ruffling your hair and giving your shoulder a firm squeeze as he muttered, 'Good girl. Such a sweet girl for keeping him happy' and 'sorry you had to hear all that, love' as he insisted on slipping you another small stack of pound notes for the extra stress. No matter how many times you've tried to decline.

Just as many times you've tried to convince yourself you didn't touch yourself that night because of his words. You definitely didn't imagine him mumbling sweet nothing's of how good you are, so perfect and sweet for him. He was a married man, for God's sake!

A soon-to-be divorced one if things continued to persist the way they were.

You didn't dare let these feelings show; for fear of losing your job and the possible disdain that would cloud over his aged features that you'd have the audacity to think of him that way. Unable to bring yourself to even consider baring the thought of his disapproval. It was too much. It made your stomach twist in ways stressful university exams never did.

-- -- --

RIIIIING

You rose from your afternoon nap, a startled sound ripped from your throat. textbook and laptop discarded clumsily at the table. The sofa creaking as you pulled yourself up, eyes squinting as you tried to find your phone in the darkness. Eyes already aching from staring at your laptop screen for hours even when it grew dark. Took engrossed in finishing your assignment to care that you were in pitch black. Only napping to soothe the sting.

You plucked your phone from the floor and saw it was Colleen calling you. Your eyes widened as you hastily answered. "Mrs Price! Is everything okay?"

"I need you to come over as soon as possible, Im already running late to meet with the girls and I need someone to watch James."

Your brows pinched in confusion. Checking the time and saw it was 10 o'clock. Surely there had to be someone more local.

"where's John-?"

"being useless as always, drinking and leaving me to do all his shit for him."

Your eyes practically bulged out of your skull; sure you've heard her be nasty but this was the first time you've ever heard her be so brazen with her dislike for her husband. Her voice oozing with venomous spit as each word punched out from her throat.

You thought it would be for the best not to say anything. Swallowing what words of defence you had for John, you slid off your couch. "I'll- uh- I'll be on my way."

You slipped on your shoes and your warmest coat, thankful your keys already sat in its pocket. You rushed out of your door, having to cycle your way over. Usually you'd catch the bus and then cycle the rest of the way but night buses weren't running where you needed to go.

Never have you peddled so quickly. Your legs were on fire by the time you arrived and Colleen was hissing at you as she scurried out the door for how late you were making her. Muttering the whole time she got in her car and was driving off into the night. You stumbled into the house and immediately went upstairs to check on James and thankfully he was still sleeping.

Hours you spent waiting for John to return home or even Collen. Anyone to bid you off so you could go back home and sink into the plush of your bed. Sleeping on the sofa and then all that peddling has strung your body until you were nothing but knots. Sitting down almost the entire time as your legs protested to any further usage.

You only went into the bedroom to grab the spare baby monitor to check if it was still working, but you got nosey. Peeking around and finding colleens vanity, staring at the unflattering reflection. Your hair was a mess, and your clothes were screwed on your body. You could smell your sweat and it wasn't even hot. With great hesitance, you picked and sniffed at the collection of perfume that sat there. All were much too strong for your tastes until you found a bottle tucked into the very corner. It looked like it hadn't been touched for a while, not even half empty, but it wasn't old. The brand's logo was chipped at the edges, and the bottle was sealed the wrong way. You couldn't resist giving it a small sniff and were pleasantly surprised to find such a kind smell. It was vanilla and rose water; with a small bit to your lip and against all your better judgment. You sprayed a shy spritz on your neck and dabbed it into either side. Already feeling like a grander woman.

But your curiosity died as the king-sized bed seemed to be calling your name. Sheets are neatly folded, and pillows are fluffed. With James back asleep after some fuss and a diaper change you slinked into the covers with mumbled apologies.

Sleep claiming you faster than you ever expected, slumped heavily against the mattress as your nose was filled with John's scent. A heady mix of both his natural order and the shampoo he used. Your nose sinking into the pillow even in your dreams as you inhaled deeply. Happy hums filling the empty room before soft snores took their place.

-- -- --

John on the other hand was not so lovingly dozed off. He wasn't partying with friends and running his mouth about all his stresses. No he was haggard as he just barely pulled himself away from the sticky counter. The bartender muttering something along the lines of him getting back to the misses.

His misses.

He was nothing but a stubborn bastard. That was his ring on her finger and he couldn't swallow the uncomfortable bitter pill that was his reality. He's been finding his ring 'mistakenly' left on the bathroom counter. She was already bringing up divorce whenever he glared at her a second too long.

He couldn't have it. What kind of man would he be if he stood by and let her go prancing off. That was his wife. His.

His fist hit the counter with a determined sneer and he shoved himself away. Wobbling for a moment before he was able to muster his legs into a familiar march. His footsteps were unsteady but persistent in their journey. The bar was within walking distance and what was a little fresh air to help sober him up so he can face his woman how he should. Steel in his composure and fire burning in his eyes as he was going to-

To-

Fuck. There are so many things he's been wanting to do. It's been too long. Much too long without being in between her legs. The heat of a welcoming cunt was now foreign as he had to rub himself with the rough callouses of his hand. No amount of spit could replace the heavenly slick of a woman's arousal. Didn't sound the same when he fucked his fist. Didn't smell the same. Didn't feel the same.

She was truly a cruel woman. He could withstand her sneers and moaning, but to deprive him of the luxury of a husband was the devil's work. His own personal torment after so many years of bloodshed and muddled honors.

Perhaps if that walk was as sobering as he told himself it was, he would have noticed the car that was missing. The bike parked in its place. The tranquil quite of his home shattered, 2 am in the morning, as he heaved himself through the door and winced at the thud of the door. Pausing to hear any cries of his son or the pissed off yell of disappointment but he was met with nothing.

He lumbered through his house after kicking off his boots. His coat was thrown somewhere in the darkness as he crept up the stairs and shuffled into his bedroom. There, he saw the lump of a figure in his bed, and his brain clicked into gear. Licking his dry lips, he dusted his hands off his jeans, already undoing his belt as he stepped out of the fabric as soon as it pooled down to his ankles. Crawling onto the bed as he stared at the sleeping miss in his bed, eyes beyond blurred and too blinded by his determination, maybe he would have noticed the obvious differences between you and his wife.

He presses sloppy open mouth kisses to your shoulder. "Col- Colly, He slurred out as each kiss grew higher and higher. The untrimmed scruff of his mutton chops scratching against your cheek ear as he babbled in gruff murmurs. "Wake up, honey."

But he had no patience for his 'wife' to rise from her slumber. Your stirring only egged him on as he caged your slumbering body in with hands on either side of your shoulders. Moving the blanket down to reveal your covered form. He huffed in disapproval. "Tuckered out? Didn't even undress." He scolded but there was no heat to his words as he began to undo the buttons of your jeans and eased them down your legs. Shifting your shirt as high as he could before grunting as your unconscious form was no help.

"this why..you need me." His chest pressed heavily down onto your back as his large hands wandered along your curves. Pinching at the chub he didn't remember Colleen having but it's been so long he just dismissed it. "Keep ya nice and warm."

John couldn't wait any longer. Pushing your underwear to the side and his fingers curled against the fabric as he rutted against your silky folds through the fabric of his briefs. Like a dog in heat his hips grinded hard against your sex. His nose burying in your neck as he huffed the smell of perfume - he got her that for their anniversary. He knew she was still missing him. All that bullshit of insisting she'd never wear one of his gifts again. Throwing out jewelry that was now deemed tacky, all because he bought it, and clothes she just shunned as old news.

With a growl he yanked his boxers down as he grabbed his already half hard cock. Rubbing it through your glistening sex, already so wet for him. Perfect little wife. He didn't take long for him to chub to full mass as he huffed at the floral scent on your neck. "Gonna fix it- gonna fix everything-"

As soon as his cock pressed into your entrance you were startled awake. The sudden sting making your eyes pry open. Your breathing hitched as you heard John's voice mumbling something into your skin as you opened your mouth but he just shushed you. "None of that. Don't start, just need you tonight." He presses his hips frimer to your ass as the fat head of his cock speared your cunt. He groaned deeply with a curse knocked out of him. "So fucking tight-"

Your cheeks burned as you tried to squirm away from the blistering heat of your poor fluttering walls being pried apart by his sheer girth. Gasping into the pillow. With a huff John yanked you further down with a sharp tug on your underwear, his free hand pressing down on the back of your neck to keep you nice and arched. Any words you tried to squeak out immediately muffled.

"that's it, just open up for me, Coll." He cooed, the stretch of alcohol thick on his breath as he squeezed your neck. Feeling the way your pussy betrayed you, crying all over his big dick as you heard each grunt and groan rattle in your ears. Just able to hear it over the sound of your own heart thumping so loudly you thought for a moment it lodged itself into your skull. "Atta girl."

As soon as your ass was flush to his pelvis you let out a whimper. Clutching at the bedding your eyes squeezed shut. The pain faded into a dull numbness before the tug of a vein rubbing against your walls had you softly moaning. So full. You could barely breathe with how far it was pressed to your stomach. Surely shoving your organs up and lodging them into your throat. A knot tight in it as your eyes fluttered open.

Unable a moment to breathe as he guided you back onto his cock with every thrust that sent you jolting forward. The stitches of your underwear screamed as he set his pace. sloppy but reaching deep within. Kissing your cervix with each thrust as you trembled. Blinking you didn't even notice the tears that poured down your heated cheeks as you kept shaking your head. Any attempt of protest cut off by your own traitorous moan.

Fuck it feels good. Why must if feel so good. You've imagined what his cock would feel like but you never imagined this. Never thought you'd actually be feel it drill into your poor cunt as you sniffled and sobbed.

John could barely restrain himself. When did her pussy ever feel this good? So tight and clamping down on his cock as if it were the first time. Has it really been so long that her body became as foreign to him as it he was to her. That made his teeth grit as he panted. "Shit- gonna- fuuck-"

He didn't need to say if for you to know. Your stomach clenched as your thighs tried to squeeze tight together like that would stop anything. Not with his thick thighs spreading your legs wide and welcoming for him. "J-John-" you hiccuped.

Voice so strained it became high pitched. Needy. It made his head spin or maybe that was just the alcohol catching up to him. Groaning deep from within his chest as he flooded your tight hole with hot ropes of cum. Rolling his hips lazily with each squirt. "Sorry...been too long-" he kissed your shoulder and your cheek. "You feel like heaven, love."

But John was never a selfish lover. He let go of your underwear as he remained snugly slotted into your warmth. Relishing in its slick heat. Thick fingers finding your clit with startling ease as he rubbed in circles. Fast and his rhythm broken but with how your clit was already throbbing needily it didn't deter your body from singing out. Hands clawing at the pillow your face was buried against as you bucked into the friction. Shaking your head as you tried to fight off how good it felt.

Whines spilling out of you as you chanted pleas and curses but it all fell on deaf ears. "Ohh- oh!" You pulsed around him as your own orgasm tightened in your lower belly. No matter how much you tried to deter it, John was insistent of your pleasure.

"c'mon on, Coll, make a mess on my cock." He cooed as he pressed more of his weight down into your back to keep you from squirming too much. "Know you miss it."

You cried out as it crashed over you. Stars filling your already blurry vision as stray droplets of tears fell down. The cover of the pillow damp with your tears and specks of drool you desperately tried to swallow down.

Both of you just laying there for awhile. You were stiff as a rock and he was slowly rolling his hips. Fucking his cum deeper into you with more kisses to your sticky skin. His hand weaving up to your hair as he tugged your head from the pillow. Blinking sluggishly as he expected to be greeted with the face of his wife but instead he was met with his babysitter. Cheeks streaked with tears and your lips parted with a small gloss of drool. Sniffling as your eyes latched to his dumb stare. Just looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

"you're not my wife."

Sugar sweet

Pairing: John price x assistant! Reader

Warning: unspecified age gap, 'bratty' reader, brief description of past, implied emotional neglect, mild/tame bits of angst, reader is kinda pathetic but we salute her, AFAB/female! Reader, suggestive content at the end, Mild NSFW at end, brief sexual fantasies (oral - male receiving) , John is pining in his own way

Tag: msil

Apologies. I've never written for Price so please bare with me if he's ooc. This is my firt time posting writing on here 🙏 but I got a spark of courage from some encouragement!I absolutely love this idea and couldn't help but be inspired. Full credit to Dante for the prompt. I just got writing fuel from it.

Was it so wrong to want some praise for your hard work? To want to hear “good job” for once in your life? You did a good job, and you know that. Your salary reflects it, along with a few appreciative pats from others. You often hear murmurs from colleagues who say, “You just work too hard; take a break,” along with their well-meaning concerns. But you liked being busy—helping those who sacrificed so much for everyone else, often with little reward, just paperwork, bruises, and bleeding wounds. Your hands were rough from the grit on your gun grinding against your palms and fingertips.

You were just being grateful. Helpful.

And a helpful little bird you were—always fluttering around Price’s office. This time, you brought him a fresh cup of coffee and a bagel: egg, sausage, and spinach. You left it at his desk to the side so his arm wouldn’t knock it over. Taking a silent breath, you stood there, lingering, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes flitted over the man currently hunched over his desk and the food you had brought.

Another beat passed. Nothing.

He let out a small grunt as he shifted in his seat, giving a small sniff as he continued to drag his eyes along each word, scratching a few out with a thick black Sharpie. His thick brows were pinched tight, creasing his forehead—a look you were all too familiar with when it came to Price. It always made him look older, though the air he gave off already did that just fine, making the wrinkles forming around his eyes and on his forehead more prominent. He squinted at the words as if each one were an offense.

“I thought you’d like something to eat; I haven’t seen you have anything for a few hours, so—” you gestured to the bagel, a smile curled on your lips. The tinted lip balm gave them a pleasant shine and a healthy hue, and a faint taste of strawberries lingered on your tongue from when you had licked your lips, nerves tight in your core before entering his office.

And once again—nothing.

He only vaguely acknowledged it, barely glancing before he reached for the coffee and took a sip. A small gruff sound escaped him as the warmth pooled down his throat.

You faltered, but your smile remained brave in the face of his stoic behavior. “Well, I’ll leave you be,” you said, the words coming out cheery in your desperate attempt to not sound as awkward as you felt.

You shuffled toward the door after a few more seconds of waiting. Maybe, just maybe-

“Love?”

Instantly, you whipped around, chest puffing out as your heels squeaked against the floor. “Yes, sir?”

“Blue suits you.”

Your face twisted as you paused, about to ask what he meant. Looking down at yourself, you saw a crisp white blouse snugly tucked into a black pencil skirt—one that was smaller than you had anticipated. You had noticed it seemed to draw his attention more often than not, so the purchase didn’t seem to be all for nothing. There was only a single hint of blue on you, except for your—

Blood rushed to your cheeks as you let out a sharp gasp. Immediately, you twisted around to see that the skirt had ridden up, revealing the edge of your baby blue panties stretched across your backside. The lace trim was exposed for all to see. Hastily, you pushed down the fabric of your skirt, adjusting it to sit better on your hips. Smoothing it down was when you saw it: his eyes finally lifted from the paper, a steaming mug pressed to his lips. A pleased crinkle appeared in his eye as he took in everything.

You had never left his office faster. Your face was too warm—much too warm. Before you knew it, you were stumbling into the bathroom, splashing water onto your face to cool down. Lifting your head to stare at your reflection, you cursed. Your mascara had smudged, streaking down your cheeks as if you had cried. The light, natural shade of your eyeshadow was now splotchy and smeared around your eyes. You pressed your lips together in a tight purse, scolding yourself for your forgetfulness.

Yanking rough tissues from the dispenser, you dabbed at your face, trying to salvage what makeup remained.

Standing amid the dim lighting of the bathroom, you couldn’t help but stare. What were you doing? A woman your age prancing around in short skirts and makeup? Sure, you had always been inclined to doll yourself up, but it had usually been a treat—something to anticipate after a rough week. Now, it felt like a routine, ensuring you had a pretty glow and your best features enhanced. When did you become so desperate for such minimal attention?

Perhaps it was when your father always hummed in stiff, dry tones whenever you spoke. Or when your mother would glance up from her phone, scrolling while you tried to show her something you were proud of, only for her to finally respond to something you had said five sentences ago.

Maybe it was when you did your best at everything—school work, getting a job as soon as possible, and even landing an office position mere months after finishing your education. Always made sure the house is clean and never ask your parents for help, despite feeling sickly and overwhelmed. Always doing your very best to remain as pleasant as possible and chase any spontaneous kiss to your head and word of approval from either of them. But the majority of the time, it was nothing. After all, you were expected to do well. So independent and mature at such a young age. How well they must have raised you to be so self-sufficient. They would praise so highly to their friends. Expected to have a good job and a happy air to you.

After all, you were so lucky. They were people having it worse than you. Why would you ever feel so low you wanted to quit everything and grovel in your bed?

Or it could have started when friends would always have an excuse to decline your plans or something last minute came up. Dates always having you carry the conversation after having to endure hours of dry texting and inconsistent messages.

A nagging need to just hear one satisfied hum. To feel a ruffle to your hair or a firm pat on your shoulder. The sweet euphoria of hearing a pleased “Good girl”. You craved it like how a chef always twitched to snag a cigarette between their lips. An itch you could never scratch no matter how many times you self-affirmed with loving post-stick notes on your bedroom mirror and muttered endless approval to yourself for the most simple of things.

You huffed as you shook your head. Why bother with such a man like Price? The only time he seemed to even bat an eye in your direction was when you flashed your legs or your shirt hugged your breasts too tight. You were mere meat and he was a hungry dog. A frown grew on your lips as you patted your cheeks. Glaring at your reflection as you fixed yourself up and pushed out of the bathroom.

It started with your wardrobe; wearing trousers that looked smart enough for your job but gave your shape no compliments. Its rigid seams even making your hips look boxier and your legs shorter as you trade your polished heels for simple flats. Your blouses no longer hugged the curve of your chest. And if you wanted the relief skirts gave then it was unshapely skirts – pleated or plain and sleek – that ended half way down to your calf.

And then it was the coffee. It tasted the same? Then why bother with saving an extra palmful of cash for the fancy brand. You served it in John’s signature mug with the same beaming smile and didn’t waste your time to linger. To wait for any response. Bustling down the halls with files tucked to your chest. With the extra cash now staying in your pockets you treated yourself to paying for a nice cake or an overpriced coffee of your own that gave you that needed rush for the busy day.

Head held high as you gave up your pursuit. You were always such a independent girl.

And Price? Well, as soon as he tasted the bland blend of coffee he frowned. Lips smacking as the familiar graininess of the bases blend hit his tongue. His head lifting but you were already gone. Huffing like a bull every time he drank from it. In the end, it went cold half drunk and staining the white mug.

And your clothes; what happened to his pretty bird? Sure, your beauty wasn’t easy to conceal and the lack of powder to your face didn’t change the natural charm of your features. But he had to hide his scowl of disapproval as he saw you were in another long skirt. It was flowy and dull. Those pretty legs hidden from his view. His hand digging against the scratch of his facial hair as he glared at the skirt. Half tempted to make a house call and strip every offending cloth out of your wardrobe. His jaw twitching as it clenched tight.

That smile. That sickly sweet smile you always flashed his way. He wondered if you’d smile like that to him after he’s lodged his cock from your bruised throat, cum and spit smearing on those perfect lips. Glossier than any lip balm or lip gloss you insisted to wear. A breathy ‘thank you, sir’ spilling out with tears making those insistent eyes of yours sparkle. He almost thought he went crazy when he couldn’t feel your expectant gaze boring into his skull.

He was much too old to be entertaining a sweet thing like you. Always making sure his boots were polished, his office tidied when he was gone for too many weeks, adding sticky notes to files and color coding each one to make sure they were in perfect order. Treating him to good coffee and pleasant meals. It took everything in him to keep himself glued to his paperwork when you came in and was so kind. So needy. You didn’t need a grump like him. A man with too many burdens on his sunken shoulders and blood staining more than his hands.

He tried to dismiss your quirks by giving it no attention. Mutters of disapproval whenever you spent money on him. But it just made you more keen. Trying again and again to get him to say something. To look at you but he knew if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. But now he was finally getting what he wanted? He couldn’t help but swallow each bitter grain of his efforts.

His day was long. His team giving him their usual shit but it was giving him a bigger headache than ever. Any bark of demand towards him had his hand clenching in a tight fist behind his back. Most of his paperwork had fallen to you and this time, it was his turn to come into your little space, knocking on the door with a coffee much too sugary for any of his teeth to withstand.

There you were, cramped in your chair with a flood of paperwork looming high to your shoulder. He cleared his throat and you snapped your head up, perking in surprise at his appearance. Wide doe eyes blinking at him as didn’t stop at your desk. No, he pressed a big calloused hand to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the peek of skin between your hair and your shirt collar. Pressing the coffee down as he looked down to see how much you’ve done. His breath warm against your ear making your whole body turn to stone.

“atta girl. That’s it, love.” John murmured as he gave the back of your neck a small squeeze and stood back up. Leaving you gawking at the door as he left just like that. The warmth of his hand lingering on your skin. A blood that was meant to go to your cheeks oozed down, pouring between your legs as your sex throbbed at the simple praise.

It didn't take long, no, It only took the next day for you to be back in those little pencil skirts and a new blouse that embraced your figure nicely. Heels on your feet signaling your arrival as you leave a fresh mug of coffee on his desk and a small pile of files. All colored and checked, sticky notes paper clipped to each.

One file slipped from the stack making you bend down and scramble it back into your hands giving John a beautiful eyeful of those baby blue panties hugging your ass and a small chub of your sex teasing him as it peered between your thighs. A pleased growl, deep from his chest rumbling out as he took the file from your hand.

“good girl.”

something about mean old bastard price and his sweet new assistant who just wants his approval so bad but can never seem to get a positive response from him

your sweet gestures, like using your own money to buy him fancy coffee instead of the generic brand on base are only met with an unappreciative grunt followed with, “fuckin’ waste of money. tastes exactly the same.”

barely looks up at you when you drop folders on his desk, only nudges his empty cup towards you. a silent way of commanding you to make yourself useful

until one day when you catch him shameless checking out your ass in the new skirt you bought, his usual grunting response actually seems to be out of approval for once. doesn’t even acknowledge your eyes watching him as he rakes his own down your legs before adjusting himself in his trousers and going back to his paperwork

Fate | Buggy x reader x Shanks ♡

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

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

pairings: buggy x reader x shanks

wc: 13.3k

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

masterlist | one piece masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That's not funny.”

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

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

“I'll clean it up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buggy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you wanna know something, baby?”

“hmm”

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

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

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

“That was a long time ago.”

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

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

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks.

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

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

“Good night, Shanks.”

“Good night, Baby.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels amazing”

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

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

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

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

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

“How does she feel, Bug?”

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

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

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

“You're both so pretty” He coos.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tag list: @bloodfixnd

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

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

JAYVIK X READERRRR UGGH

Risky Business

word count: 5.5k

contains: modern/college au, no preestablished romantic relationships (viktor and reader are besties that torment jayce /hj), frat bro/lacrosse player!jayce, honors student!viktor, art kid!reader, switch!jayce, dom!viktor, switch!reader, bottom!jayce, top!viktor, alcohol, weed, drug use, stoner!viktor & stoner!reader, oral sex (blowjob & pussy eat), anal sex, cock milking, safe sex & proper use of lube!!! (wrap it before you tap it & never do anal without lube), doggy style, too many mentions of prostate/cock/dick/pussy/cunt, praise kink, corruption kink, virgin!jayce, teasing, praise, pet names (golden boy/darling/sweetheart/baby), vaginal sex, somewhat animalistic/rough sex, we swallow not spit, cervix bruising, multiple orgasms, jayce aims to please, jayce’s cock is too powerful, lightweight!jayce (bro can't handle the weed), viktor and reader are menaces, one off mention of public sex, humiliation if you squint

summary: jayce embarks on a spiritual journey of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll with the help of his two hottest classmates at his fraternity's risky business themed party.

a/n: shoutout to this fic's beta reader @zevrra <3 they're awesome and write amazing arcane content!

Stale booze, pungent smoke from loosely rolled joints, and people making out in every room of the house are the trifecta of a typical frat house party. Yet, things have been turned up to a hundred and fifty for Greek Week’s Battle of the Greeks, each frat and sorority house on the Row competing to be the Greek Life chapter. For Piltover University’s Sigma Phi Delta, Greek Week means maintaining their incumbent title. 

Jayce, the newest recruit and brother, has the most unfortunate task for the party: keeping drunken idiots from destroying every inch of the frat house. Not that he minds, of course! Despite his charming looks and demeanor, Jayce Talis despises parties. Sure, a party of twenty people or less is fine, but a party at this level of insanity? Pure nightmare fuel.

To make matters worse for poor Jayce, someone from Sigma Phi Delta (he has his suspicion of who was responsible, a certain snobby blonde named Allira Salo) had suggested Risky Business as the theme for this year’s Battle of the Greeks. Now, here’s Jayce, standing by the drinks table in nothing but grey boxers, crew socks, and the longest button down he could find. D.M.S.R. by Prince plays over the speakers, a staple from the movie and the perfect party song.

Jayce nurses a Red Solo cup of cheap liquor in his hands, but he hadn’t taken a single sip. Whenever a frat brother or chatty drunk girl would come up to him, Jayce would feign drinking and laugh like a gleeful drunkard, playing along in the hopes they would skitter away to their next victim.

“Not much of a drinker, huh?” someone shouts to him over the loud beat of the funk track. Jayce looks down–he has to look down at everyone on the campus–and sees you, a classmate from his ART 106 class, Drawing for Non-Majors. Everyone pursuing a degree at Piltover University is required to take a “Creativity and Creative Development” class as part of their core curriculum. Drawing for Non-Majors happens to be the only art Jayce believes he could net an easy ‘A’ in. 

“How could you tell?” he yells back, as the music switches to The Dream is Always the Same, a somewhat psychedelic song. You tease the rim of your cup, bubbling lemon-lime soda inside, “You’re the least giddy frat boy at the party.”

Jayce eyes the way you guide your manicured finger around the cup and has to tear away his gaze to answer, “Yeah, makes sense. I got tasked with ‘drunk dumbass’ duty, so it’s better to be sober if some ass tries to pick a fight and break something.”

You give a nod and hold up your cup to Jayce, “Care for some Sprite then?”

Jayce’s eyes widen at your offer, “But you,” he blinks his surprise away, “That’s your drink.”

“Sharing is caring,” you chuckle. 

Jayce grabs the cup from you and examines it; never has he taken an already consumed drink from someone else, nonetheless from a cute girl like you. It’s like an indirect kiss! Oh, Jayce Talis–the cheesy romantic–is not one to kiss and tell, but he could count on one hand how many people he has kissed. Now or never. Jayce takes a timid sip from the cup and relishes in the refreshing taste, “Oh God, I needed that.”

“Good!” you take the cup back and down the rest of it. Now, this is an indirect kiss! Jayce’s tanned cheeks warm up at the realization and he fans himself with his free hand. Seeing his overheated face, you tilt your head and ask, “Too hot? Wanna come with me to a cooler spot?”

“Oh! Uh,” the frat boy runs through the possible outcomes if he does or doesn’t follow you. What if a fight happens while he’s occupied? What if you think he’s a bummer for not joining you? What if– “You don’t have to,” you add on and shrug, “If you don’t wanna.”

“No!” he exclaims, a bit too loud. Jayce quickly masks his enthusiasm with a fake cough, “Lead the way,” he flashes you his ‘Golden Boy’ smile. Please don’t think I’m an inexperienced loser.

“Cool,” you toss your cup in the nearby trash can and grab Jayce by the wrist, barely able to wrap your whole hand around it. Through the mobs of partying sorority girls, people cheering on a frat brother’s keg stand, and folks getting way too into dancing, you lead Jayce outside to the back of the frat house. A few party attendees are lounging about in the backyard, some of which are couples making out or people exchanging joints. 

“Viktor!” you call out. Sitting around some abandoned lawn chairs, a thin man with shaggy shoulder-length hair and a flannel perks up. He waves the two of you over and you each find a chair to occupy. Jayce examines the stickers on Viktor’s cane.

“Hey,” Viktor greets you both, his accent rich and thick.

“H- Hey,” Jayce attempts to be nonchalant, but fails miserably when his baritone voice cracks into soprano range. He recognizes Viktor from many of his engineering classes, but he never had the opportunity to chat one on one with him. Yet, judging by the hordes of engineering students seeking the cane user out for tutoring, Jayce doesn’t want to come off as needing such assistance–well, some assistance would be appreciated–or that he would use Viktor for it.

“Cute,” Viktor lets out a deep chuckle, honey amber eyes glowing almost eerily under the full moon’s light, “The Golden Boy’s a bit shy, huh?” 

“Oh, for sure,” you snort. Jayce pouts and averts his eyes from the two of you, only to have you tilt his chin back up with the tip of your finger, “We only tease in good faith,” you coo, “I take it that you know Jayce, Vik?”

“Everyone does,” he answers. Jayce pouts again and Viktor stifles back a laugh, “Also he’s my classmate in about half of my classes,” the pretty haired–Pretty haired?! Jayce, get it together!–boy leans closer and Jayce can smell the familiar stink of weed on his flannel, “I thoroughly enjoyed seeing your Rube Goldberg machine unfold during our class with Professor Hemingdinger.”

“Haha, yeah, that machine,” the engineering student cringes. You raise your eyebrows at the exchange, “Oh no, what happened?”

“The concept was ingenious, I must say,” states Viktor, “A creative way to dispense a cup of coffee for our dear professor,” Jayce buries his face into his sleeves of his varsity jacket, as Viktor continues, “However, Jayce miscalculated the placement of the coffee pot.”

“Don’t tell me,” your cheeks puff up to hold back your laughter. 

“Cue our poor professor drenched in coffee!” the cane user laughs. You break and join in, boisterous laughter ringing through Jayce’s ears. The frat boy peers up at the exchange and comments, “At- At least, it was lukewarm coffee…”

“Thank God,” you calm down from your laughing fit, “If it was any warmer, I’m afraid that you would have been sued,” Viktor nods along in agreement. Jayce runs his large, veiny hands through his clean-cut hair, “Okay, okay. Enough is enough.”

“Sorry,” you throw an arm around Jayce’s shoulders and pull him close, the scent of your strawberry perfume strong and intoxicating to the frat boy, “We can make it up to you, if you want.”

“How so?” he inquires.

You give Viktor a wink and he returns it with a thumbs up. Viktor snatches his worn out satchel from the leaf-covered ground and rummages through its content. It takes a moment or two before Viktor procures the object of desire, a baggie of green flowery clumps.

“Please tell me that’s oregano,” Jayce pleads.

“Nope,” the cane user confirms, “One hundred percent pure marijuana.”

“Don’t worry! Vik has a med card, so it’s like… totally legal,” you reassure Jayce with a pat on the cheek. Jayce bites his tongue to prevent himself from saying something utterly stupid, “Are you sure it’s okay? We won’t get in trouble?” Okay, nevermind, he does say something utterly stupid.

“As long as you’re not a narc,” replies Viktor. He sets the baggie down and pulls a few more items from his satchel: rolling paper, filter paper, and a grinder, “Watch the master at work,” 

Viktor grinds up a clump of flower; once properly grounded up to his liking, he places the filter paper on one end of the rolling paper, followed by the flower. He rolls it up flawlessly and seals it, producing a perfectly made joint, before making two more joints.

“Here,” he holds out a joint to Jayce. With shaky hands, Jayce accepts the joint with visible hesitation, almost dropping in the process. You squeeze his shoulder and murmur, “Don’t worry, the first time can be scary, but we can help you.”

“How?” questions Jayce. A sparkle of mischief flickers in your eyes, “Lemme show you,” you hop off your lawn chair and approach Viktor. You plop down on his lap and throw your legs over the arm of the chair, twirling a strand of Viktor’s tousled locks, “Light me up, baby.”

Viktor pulls out a silver lighter from his jeans pocket and you place the joint between your lips, letting it dangle. Jayce watches with bated breath, as Viktor flicks the lighter open and holds the flame by your joint. Once lit, you take a drag of it and inhale some of the smoke. You pull the joint out, cheeks puffed out with smoke, and beckon Viktor to come closer. Leaning in, you press your lips against Viktor’s and exhale, allowing the thinner man to consume the rest of the smoke, as the two of you kiss. 

Jayce gawks at the sight of you making out, the way you tug at Viktor’s hair and the way he grips at your sides stirs something inside the frat boy, “And that’s called shotgunning!” you finish the kiss up and inform Jayce, “Just make sure you part your lips before I shotgun you, or else we’ll waste some good smoke,” you offer him a lopsided smile, “Wanna give it a try?”

“Sure,” he nods. You move from Viktor’s lap and onto Jayce’s, the joint still lit in your hand. Jayce swallows any fear away, as you lay the joint between your lips and breathe in the smoke, the lit end lighting up with the inhalation. You pass the joint over to Viktor for him to hold and he steals a few hits, as you moved closer and closer and–

Jayce’s lips connect with yours and he parts them just enough for you to push smoke into his mouth. It travels down his throat and into his lungs, burning and irritating. Jayce breaks away from the kiss to cough, spluttering out hot smoke. You rub his back while he hacks up a lung, “Yikes, yeah, that happens a lot to beginners.” 

“Have some water,” Viktor passes off his water bottle and Jayce snatches it, drinking up all the liquid like a dehydrated man crawling through the Sahara Desert. He coughs a bit more up and finally settles down, “When does this-” he cuts himself off, as a fuzzy feeling suddenly clouds his mind. Jayce closes his eyes, then opens them, and then closes them again, “Wow,” he giggles, “Feels nice…”

“Please tell me that he didn’t just get high off one hit,” begs Viktor.

“I think he got high off one hit,” you answer. You prepare yourself to disembark from Jayce’s lap, but stop yourself, “Jayce,” he looks at you with wide eyes, “Yeah?”

“Why are you hard?” you question him. 

Jayce’s eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets at your inquiry. He jerks his head down and sees his predicament, a noticeable tent in his boxers. His face turns a deep shade or crimson red, “N- No, fuck, I’m so so so sorry- I don’t know why-” 

You place a finger against his lips to shush, “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll take care of you,” you whisper into his ear and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I know for a fact that you find me and Viktor very attractive, mhm? I saw the way you looked at us while we kissed.”

“And so what if I do?” the frat boy retorts, puffing out his chest in an effort to appear manly and confident. Yet, his resolve crumbles the moment you press your chest up against his torso, the fabric of your shirts being the only barrier, “We find you very attractive, too.”

Between the haze dulling his brain and the lustful stares of two stunning individuals on him, Jayce Talis caves in and whimpers to you, “Please, take care of me.”

“Good boy,” you peck him on the lips, “Show us the way to your room.”

Like an obedient pup, Jayce rapidly nods and helps you off his lap. Viktor nearly chokes on his joint when he sees Jayce’s boner, “What the fuck, you’re huge,” and earns a slap to the back of the head from you, “Don’t announce it!” you hiss to him, “He’s ours.” 

Those two or so words send shivers down Jayce’s spine. He’s ours. All Jayce ends is to be wanted; his efforts on the lacrosse team, his performance in class, everything he does is motivated by his need to be praised. He squeezes himself between you and Viktor in a line as a makeshift hiding spot for his boner and guides the two of you back inside the frat house. You three weave and dodge various obstacles, such as neglected soda cans and a sorority girl threatening to puke on you. Upstairs, a few people are scattered about the hallway, but none pay any mind to you all. You make your way to Jayce’s room and he opens the door, allowing you and Viktor to enter.

Jayce’s room is somewhat stereotypical of an athletic frat boy with messy bedsheets and posters of famous athletes on his wall. However, he has a few so-called nerdy things in his room, including a mechanical model of the Solar System and a Lego-built U.S.S Enterprise from Star Trek. You make yourself comfortable on Jayce’s bed while Viktor borrows the desk chair and Jayce sits on the floor. 

“Sooooooo…” the lacrosse player twiddles his thumbs, “How do we fix this?”

“What do you mean?” Viktor scoffs, “Haven’t you gotten a blowjob or a handjob before?”

Jayce’s silence speaks volumes and you connect the dots, “Oh. My. God. Jayce fucking Talis is a virgin.”

“No! I’m- well-” the virginal accused racks his brain to deny the allegations, “It’s- Ugh, okay, it’s true,” he confirms to you and Viktor, “It’s not that I have a vow of celibacy or anything, just that I wanted to save it for someone special.”

“It’s kinda cute,” you giggle softly while Viktor jokes, “And they say chivalry is dead. Good on you for defying frat bro stereotypes.”

“Are you gonna tease me all night or is one of you gonna choke on my fucking cock already?” Jayce’s filter went offline, the effects of weed taking more of an effect. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” answers Viktor. You blow him a ‘good luck’ kiss and get cozy for the show. Viktor rises from the chair and leads Jayce to the bed; he sits down next to you, now face level to Jayce’s pelvis, “Drop those boxers, Golden Boy.”

Jayce tugs down his boxers and haphazardly shakes them off his legs. Now free from its confinement, his cock bounces freely, on display for you and Viktor to admire. Viktor sizes up Jayce’s dick—as thick as his wrist and as long as one and a half pencils stacked—and mumble to himself, “Damn, this is a virgin killer.”

“Impressed?” Jayce strikes the Superman pose and smiles. Viktor wraps a hand around his cock and gives it a light tug, watching as Jayce’s cockiness vanishes in an instant, “Yeah. It’s pretty impressive,” Viktor lines his lips up to the top of Jayce’s dick and opens his mouth, carefully sliding him inside. A soft moan tumbles Jayce’s lips from the sensation, as Viktor’s hot and wet mouth costs his cock. Inch by inch, Viktor takes more and more of Jayce’s length until he gets all but an inch in, a small bulge pointing from under his Adam’s Apple. Testing the waters, Viktor goes agonizingly slow with the blowjob, taking his sweet time to pull back until only the tip is inside. 

“Please go faster,” Jayce whines. Viktor lets out a muffled chuckle, the vibration ever so pleasant against Jayce’s shaft, and picks up the pace. He bobs his head up and down the length of Jayce’s cock, occasionally running his tongue down the prominent vein underneath and twirling it around the mushroom tip. Combined with the weed, Jayce is experiencing pure bliss, as he jerks his hips forward and shoves his dick deeper down Viktor’s throat. The smaller man gags at the sudden change, but quickly recovers, letting Jayce fuck his throat. Jayce thrusts his pelvis forward and slams his cock deep inside Viktor, gripping the receiver’s shoulders for extra support. Spit leaks from Viktor’s mouth, his hooked nose smacking into Jayce’s well-trimmed pubes, as Jayce assaults his throat with his fat cock. 

“Oh, shit!” the lacrosse player grunts, “I think I’m gonna-” he doesn’t have time to warn Viktor before climaxing, shooting sticky hot cum down the other man’s throat. Once positive that Jayce had finished orgasming, Viktor unhinges himself from the taller man’s cock and coughs up some cum. He swipes it off his lips and licks it off his fingers, “Salty.”

“Did you swallow all of that?” you ask, eyes as big as saucers, “He came for- like- two whole minutes.”

“Spitters are quitters,” he jests in retort. You playfully smack his arm and turn your attention to Jayce, “How are you feeling?” 

“Amazing,” he pants, face flustered, “Just one issue, though.”

“What’s up?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“I’m still hard,” the frat bro points downward, his cock still hard as a rock. Viktor looks over at you and rasps, “Tapping you in.”

“More than happy to have my turn, take five to recover,” you tell Viktor. He leaves the bed and returns to the desk chair, massaging his throat. You focus in on Jayce and pull him onto the bed, “Ready to try some pussy?” you coo.

Eager, Jayce nods in response, his mouth salivating at the thought of eating you out. You obligate his desires and strip yourself of your jeans, leaving only your cherry red undies left, “Take them off and have a look.”

Jayce follows your command without question, pulling your panties down your thighs and off your legs. You spread your legs open and Jayce bears witness to his first ever not porn-related pussy. Some wetness spills from your slit and onto the bed, you’re simply drenched. He hooks his hands around your legs and pulls you closer to his face, inhaling the smell of your divine cunt. The scent alone sends Jayce into a needy state, rutting his weeping cock against the mattress for some form of relief. Yet, he wants—no, needs—to focus on the task at hand, pleasing you.

“Give it a try, I’ll guide you,” you inform Jayce. With a timid nod, the frat bro dives right in and licks a long stripe from the bottom of your entrance to the top of your clit. You shudder and curl your toes, as Jayce experiments with a variety of methods. He sucks on your clit, first gentle then hard, altering to see which one you like more. It seems that you prefer hard, taking sharp breaths whenever he sucks like so. Above, you rip off your T-shirt and bra, freeing your breasts. You gesture for Viktor to come over and he does, finding a suitable position before latching onto one of your tits. Sweet mewls escape your lips while your boys have their way with you, Jayce now confident enough to devour your cunt like an animal and Viktor groping at your unoccupied tit while he suckles the other. 

“Fuck!” you croak out a shaky moan, as the knot in your stomach snaps, releasing a wet wave onto Jayce’s mouth and face. He happily laps up your juices, consuming every ounce he possibly could. You give yourself a minute to recover, Viktor laying beside you and tracing miscellaneous shapes on your skin while Jayce rests his head on your thighs. 

“Good job, boys,” you announce. You give each man a tender kiss on the lips as a reward, “You two should make out with each other.”

“Okay!” Jayce cheerily complies while Viktor merely shrugs. Viktor takes your spot on the bed and lays down fully. Jayce hovers over him, one leg on each side of Viktor’s petite waist. Only once did Jayce Talis ever kissed a boy and that had happened in middle school, but kissing boys is just like kissing girls… completely nerve-racking! 

“Just kiss me already,” huffs Viktor, yanking Jayce by the collar and slamming his lips against his. Jayce lets out a surprised yelp, but adjusts. Viktor’s free hand travels around Jayce’s waist and to his back, landing on his ass. He smacks Jayce’s ass, earning a moan from the other man, and begins groping it without remorse.

“Dude,” Viktor pauses the kiss to get your attention, “You have to feel this ass, it’s like pound cake.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” you make your way to Jayce’s backside, grabbing his ass and feeling it up, “Damn, Jayce! You have a whole bakery here!”

“Uh, thanks?” Jayce answers, unsure if that’s a compliment or not. You give Jayce your own smack on the ass, “Nice ass, Golden Boy. Now, get back to making out with my best friend.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he exclaims before he resumes kissing Viktor. Meanwhile, you utilize this opportunity to ‘rub one out’, as you play with your clit and folds. You shove a finger inside and whimper, visualizing Jayce’s finger in its place. Another finger is soon added later and you bite your tongue to suppress any ungodly noises. 

“Hey, is it cool if I fuck him first?” Viktor asks you, receiving a weak thumbs up in return because you’re too busy jerking off to properly speak, “I’ll take that as a yes. Jayce, go get a condom from my bag.”

Jayce picks up Viktor’s satchel from the side of the bed and peeks inside, scooting various items out of the way before locating a roll of condoms, “I didn’t think you were the kinda guy to have a whole roll of condoms in your bag, Viktor.”

“Blame that one over there,” Viktor points over to you, who’s too entranced in pleasure to comment, “She likes to fuck everywhere.”

Jayce blushes at the thought; if you like to fuck everywhere, did you ever fuck in the arts classroom? His cock twitches when he imagines you and Viktor fucking in that classroom. Maybe, they’ll let me join them next time, Jayce ponders. 

Viktor shimmies off his pants and boxers, revealing his own equally impressive cock. It’s definitely not as long as Jayce’s, but Viktor rivals him in terms of girth. The man in question  rips off a condom from the roll and opens up its packaging, rolling the condom down his shaft, “Ready?”

“Wait, why am I the bottom?” he huffs.

You and Viktor stare at Jayce in silence, only the muffled echos of the party downstairs can be heard.

“Okay, you’re right, but still,” he concedes. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” states Viktor, genuine care in lieu of dry humor. Jayce smiles to himself at the reassurance and positions himself above Viktor, his hole dangerously close to his dick. 

“Got any lube?” asks Viktor.

“Yeah, in the top drawer of my dresser,” responds Jayce.

“Sweetheart,” the smaller man calls out to you, “Be a dear and grab the lube. No one’s raw-dogging anal tonight.”

“On it!” you approach Jayce’s dresser and open the top drawer. Among the stacks of underwear and socks, you find a bottle of lube, half of it already used, “Want me to lube you up, Jayce?”

“Sure,” he consents. You squirm some lube on your hand and Viktor pries Jayce’s cheeks open, granting you access to his hole. Jayce hisses at the coldness while you lube up his hole, taking time to finger him loose for extra measure, “All ready!”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Viktor smiles and pecks you on the lips, “Now, enjoy the show,” he lines his cock to Jayce’s asshole and guides him downward. Viktor’s cock pierces through Jayce’s untouched hole and Jayce swears he sees stars in that moment. The feeling of a dick in his ass is definitely a new feeling, as Jayce gives himself grace to adjust to Viktor’s size. The other man strokes the sides of Jayce’s legs as a means of distraction, “Take all the time you need, darling.”

Pain soon morphs into pleasure and Jayce moans loudly, “Fuck! This is nice!” He begins to ride Viktor’s cock, his own dick bouncing up and down with each movement. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, the overwhelmed pleasure incapacitating any reasonable thought in Jayce’s head. Jayce steadies himself with the help of his headboard, continuing to hop on Viktor’s dick like a rabbit in heat. Cum drips from his cock onto Viktor’s pelvis, but he pays no mind to it, too fixated on Jayce’s blissed out expression. Viktor joins in with Jayce’s bouncing and thrusts his dick upward whenever Jayce goes downwards. He positions his cock just right to hit Jayce’s prostate, sending full body shivers through the larger man.

“There, there!” Jayce eggs Viktor on. Using Jayce’s hips for support, Viktor pistons his dick in and out of Jayce, relishing in each inclited moan and plea from the lacrosse player. To Jayce, each collision against his prostate feels like winning at the slot machines. One final thrust grants Jayce with the jackpot win, as he climaxes and coats Viktor’s torso in cum. Viktor follows afterwards and grunts, spilling his cum into the condom.

“Congratulations,” Viktor lets out a pant, rubbing circular motions with his thumbs against Jayce’s aides, “You just lost your anal virginity.”

Jayce tries to reply, but all that comes out of his mouth is incoherent babbles of pleasure subsiding. With Viktor’s assistance, he carefully slides off Viktor’s dick and promptly collapses on the bed beside him, his poor hole throbbing. Viktor removes the condom from his now flaccid cock and ties it shut; he tosses it into the small trash can and eyes you up, “I think he might be done for the night.”

“I’m not!” Jayce refutes, “See, look!” he gestures to his cock, still hard. 

“Jesus Christ, did someone spike your drink with Viagra? How are you still hard?” you sputter, “This calls for drastic measures.”

“Drastic measures?” questions Viktor. 

“I’m gonna milk that cock,” you proclaim.

You and Viktor swap places while Jayce regains his energy for another fuck. Engulfing Jayce in a side hug, you quietly hum to him, “What position do you wanna do? I’m a fan of missionary and doggy style.” 

“Can we do doggy style?” he requests.

You snicker, “You’re not gonna be beating the golden retriever boy allegations anytime soon,” you roll over and get on your hands and knees, “I’m all yours for the taking, Golden Boy.”

Jayce rises up from the bed and gets behind you, your ass hitched up and slick leaking down your inner thighs. He gropes your ass a bit and gives it a few smacks as playback, “Nice,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“Are you gonna keep admiring me or are you gonna fuck me already?” you sway your hips at Jayce, his cock twitching hard. Viktor tosses him an unused condom and Jayce rolls the rubber over the entirety of his shaft. Now properly prepared, he lines his dick up to your entrance and rubs it with the tip, making sure you’re wet enough for him to enter. You let out a low whine and Jayce takes it as a sign to slide in, doing so methodically and with as much gentleness as he could muster. 

“So big…” you mewl, taking each inch of Jayce’s length like a trooper. By the time he finally bottoms out, there’s a noticeable bulge by the lower half of your stomach. Jayce caresses your stomach and finds the bulge, silently gawking at the sheer power of his size. On the other hand, you’re able to faint if Jayce Talis doesn’t fuck you yet, so you take matters into your own hands and pull back a bit on his cock before smacking your bottom against it. Jayce snaps into focus and grabs your hips, digging his nails into your supple flesh. His chest presses up against your back and he groans in your ear, “Eager, aren’t you?”

“Says the guy who just lost his virginity five minutes ago,” you fire back. Jayce responds with a sharp thrust and you replace your sass with a shameless moan. The frat bro starts thrusting in and out, making small modifications to his movements that incite the biggest reaction from you. Jayce finds it very hard not to pin you down and fuck the life out of you, he’s a gentleman like his mamá raised him to be. However, you’re more than willing to get the life fucked out of you, as you beg to Jayce, “Please! Fuck me, fuck me like an animal! I want you to destroy my cunt!”

All logic, all reason, went out the window the moment you tell Jayce to destroy your cunt. He buries your face into the bedsheets and latches a hand onto one of your tit while the other locks around your waist. You realize what a big man Jayce Talis is when he pins you, easily trapping you under his size. The sound of skin slapping against skin and filthy moans fill the bedroom, as Jayce growls to you, “You want me to destroy your cunt, huh?” 

Smack! 

“You want me to bruise that cervix of you, make you unable to walk for days?”

Smack! Smack! 

“I wonder what kind of excuse you would have to use to justify such a prolonged absence.”

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

“Sorry, Professor! I missed last class because Golden Boy Jayce Talis destroyed my tight, little cunt!”

“Jayce, please, please!” you sob against the bedsheets, tears of pleasure and arousal running down your cheeks, “Bruise my cervix! Do whatever you want, just fuck me!”

Jayce grits his teeth and picks up his pace, the bed rocking and creaking with each thrust. He looks over at an awfully quiet Viktor, only to see the stoner stroke himself off at the sight of his best friend getting fucked. That pushes Jayce to the limit and he lifts you up, holding against his body while he relentlessly fucks you. Any noise that comes out of your pretty little mouth is either pitiful cries or moans forced out by Jayce’s pistoning.

“Ready for me, pretty girl?” he rasps, as his third orgasm of the night builds up, “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes! Yes!” you wail. In a flash, Jayce flips you over so you’re facing him and his lips clash against yours, a passionate kiss to silence his orgasmic moans while he climaxes. Near the desk, Viktor climaxes, as well, covering his mouth with his hand to suppress his moans. Your walls clench around Jayce’s shaft and you keep him inside your pussy until you milk every last drop from his beast of a cock. 

Finally flaccid, Jayce pulls out of your cunt and falls exhausted by your side, completely drained. Viktor joins the two of you on the bed and snuggles up close to your left while you rub Jayce’s back on your right. 

“That was so hot,” comments Viktor.

“Agree,” you tack on.

Jayce mumbles something against the bedsheets, but neither you nor Viktor can decipher what he says. You turn on your side and hug Jayce from behind, “Congratulations on losing your virginity, we’ll get you an ice cream cake to celebrate it tomorrow.”

“Yay…” he weakly cheers, “I love ice cream cake,” you chuckle quietly and kiss his back a few times, “Good job, very good job.”

“Hey, where’s my aftercare?” Viktor mockingly frowns. You pull away from Jayce and kiss him on the lips; you then pull away and pinch his cheeks, “Ouch!” he hisses, “You’re a dick.”

“And you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world!” you tease. Viktor rolls his eyes and sets back into the bed. With a handsome boy on each side of you, you smile fondly to yourself and bask in the glory. 

“We’re definitely doing this again.”

AHHHHH I LOVE GOOD WRITING YOU GUYS

dialogue is 10/10🤧

trans!vik getting all annoyed bc (reader) yapped and mocked how a strap can’t even please someone because it’s just plastic… so he’s gonna prove them wrong… pretty please

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT? - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you've been told ever since you were young, that one day your big mouth is going to get you in trouble. After another failed date, your roommate offers to have a few drinks; and for you to bitch to him about these horrid dates. You say one thing that makes him want to prove you wrong, and prove you wrong he does.

warnings: trans!viktor (post-op for his chest), gender-neutral terms for R until smut scene where R is described as AFAB, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, teasing, dirty talk, degradation/praise, hand/finger kink, voice kink, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f or m/m (if you're good with AFAB smut scene)

p.s. Unless asked, I typically assume smut will be AFAB. I can write m/m smut (ie. Steddie on my ao3 account) but I've only had one person specifically ask for a male!reader getting his freak nasty on. So I hope y'all are ok with that

You’re gonna swear off men, honestly! They're useless! The dates are subpar, their manners are atrocious, and the sex is awful!

You say harder, they go faster. You say faster, they go harder. You tell them don't stop, they change the whole momentum. You have to constantly shove their hand back to your clit, but they love rubbing your left lip raw.

The door slams shut as you enter the apartment, you're huffing and stomping the whole way to your room. Until a lovely accented voice stops you in your tracks, “Bad date?”

“The worst!” you explode, damn near ripping your hair out, “I’m swearing off men, I'm done!”

Viktor’s lips thin as he holds in his laugh, “That bad? Wanna bitch to me as we have a few shots?”

You look at him, your eyes wide in admiration, “Please? I love you, oh my god!”

“Go get comfortable, feel like we're going to be talking for a while.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You've changed into your pajamas, an oversized shirt and pj shorts. You see Viktor already sitting on the couch with a bottle of sourpuss blue liquor. You giggle at his choice, it's one of your favourites. It tastes like blue raspberry jolly ranchers and it's like 15% alcohol. Strong enough to get you buzzed and not wake up with a hangover.

You bound over to the couch and hop into your spot, a shot is already poured for you and you take it gratefully and shoot it back.

"Men are awful. They don't listen to instructions, don't know what foreplay is, and completely focus on themselves. I should just stick with my vibrator."

Viktor chokes as he laughs, "It's sad that you're right." Viktor takes his shot, "You deserve better."

You smile at the handsome man. God, why can't you build up the guts to flirt with him? He's so beautiful, both inside and out. You've had a crush on him ever since you met him but he became such a good friend; you didn't want to ruin it.

"Thanks Viktor."

He pours two more shots, he shoots his back and he hands you yours. You stare at him, his long neck, his pretty side profile. God, he's ruining you and he's not even doing anything to you.

"Why don't you hook up with a woman? Or a trans man? They'll know what they're doing."

"Uh..." You stutter out, you take your shot, "Real dick doesn't feel that good, I can't imagine a plastic one feeling any good. Also, I want my partner to feel pleasure too!"

Viktor's golden eyes narrow at you, and you feel small under his stare, "We do."

"Do what?"

The pretty mans demeanor freezes, his eyes dart across your face as his lips purse, "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"I'm trans."

You lick your lips and hum in consideration, "I would've never assumed. I always thought you were just a very handsome man."

Viktor deeply inhales as he looks at you, his eyes darken, "Handsome?"

You bite your lip and Viktor's eyes immediately zero in on it, "Mhmm."

"So..." Viktor starts as he casually leans back, his arm draped across the back of the couch, his fingers playing with your hair, "Shall I show you how good plastic can feel?"

There's only one thing you can say to that.

"Yes please."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor ushers you to his room, it's nice and tidy with a cluttered desk, there's some posters and pictures on his walls, you don't get a clear look because before you know it; Viktor is kissing you.

His lips are soft and you quietly moan at the feeling. God this is already feeling better than all the hookups you've had to endure.

You gasp in shock as Viktor pushes you onto his bed. He get's on top of you, straddling your waist and kisses you again. He pulls away and you feel like you can't breath, he's so hot you feel like your brain is malfunctioning.

He fiddles with the hem of your top and looks imploringly at you, you nod quickly and then you're half naked in front of your best friend. You're tempted to cover your chest but you don't when you catch the look on Viktor's face. It's hungry, he licks his lips as he observes every inch of exposed skin. He brings his hands up to your chest and fondles it, pinching your nipples, he drags his hands down so his nails scrap your sides, he rubs your hips.

You're getting kissed again, then he moves to your check, down your neck to your chest, down your abdomen; leaving a trail of hickeys his way. His fingers hook into the top of your shorts and he tilts his head to the side, "May I?" his voice is rich, deep, and rumbly.

You whine out a yes as you nod. Then you're fully naked in front of Viktor as he's still fully clothed in his own t-shirt and lounge pants.

A broken moan escapes your lips as he kisses and nips your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. Fuck fuck fuck. He's amazing. You squeal when he adds a finger into your entrance. His long, nimble finger searching until you cry out. He found your g-spot.

He adds another finger and abuses your pussy and he sucks harshly on your clit. God, you could've had this this entire time if you had the guts to flirt with Viktor. Maybe even just asking him would work.

That's how he got you here in the first place.

You cum with a shout and grip his hair tightly. He doesn't let up, doesn't change anything about his pace or strength. He only stops when you pitifully whine and push his head away.

He does as he's told, his face is red, his lips are shiny, and he climbs up and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips, it's kind of a turn on.

Viktor gets up and strips himself of his shirt and pants, now he's completely nude. He's lean, lithe, but still has a small bit of muscle on him. You have to squint to see his scars on his chest, they're small and incredibly well healed.

Your eyes trail down and you see a happy trail. Then there's a small bush of auburn curls surrounding his dick. His lips are flushed and puffy. You can see a shimmer of arousal.

A chuckle is heard, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

He walks to his nightstand and pulls out a strap, a nice sized cock, and a bottle of lube. He harnesses himself, inserts the cock, and get's back into bed with you, "You ready?"

"Please, I need it." You whine out as you open your legs farther. Viktor growls and opens the lube, coating his cock and your entrance, you gasp at the cold feeling.

He positions himself and slowly pushes in. His phenomenal head game and the lube has made the slide incredibly easy. You hear a slight squish and you feel like dying.

Viktor stills for a moment, "You okay? Can I continue?"

You just nod and grasp at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. He slowly but surely starts to pound into you, and you're a moaning mess.

He chuckles, "Plastic doesn't feel good, huh? Look at you, you're taking it like a needy slut. You're so good for me. So pretty. I've wanted to do this for months."

"Fuck, Viktor. Please keep talking! You sound so good."

"Yeah? You like my voice? You're not very subtle. I see how you shift in your seat as I talk to you, when I yell. You bite your lip and flutter your eyes like a common whore. Don't get me started on how you look at me when I work with my hands."

You whine in embarrassment, your pussy clenching as more arousal leaves you, "You can't blame me! You're so nonchalantly hot it's frustrating! I've wanted you for so long, with my stupid embarrassing crush on you. But I didn't want to ruin anything." You state in between moans.

Viktor halts for a second before truly pounding you into the bed, "Fuck! We could've been doing this all this time but you had to go out and fuck other people. You need to make it up to me."

"I will, I promise! Fuck you're gonna make me cum."

All you can do is squeal as a massive orgasm takes over you, Viktor thrusts a few more times before he stops, a shiver wracking his body as he groans.

He slowly pulls out of you, unhooks his strap, and plops onto his back next to you, "Did you cum?" You breathily ask. Viktor laughs at that, "You sound like all those guys you complained about." "Shut up. Did you, it looked like you did but I couldn't feel it."

"I did. My harness has a vibrator option so I get to feel good too."

"Oh," You sigh, trying to catch your breath, "if you didn't cum I was going to tell you to sit on my face."

"I lied, I didn't cum."

You laugh and smack him in the arm, he laughs with you and cuddle up.

"Next time." He says contently as he wraps his arms around you, putting his chin on top of your head. You smile at that, "Next time."

A small silence is shared before you break it, "We're dating now, right?" Viktor snorts at your question, "I thought we we're on the same page, guess not. Yes darling, we're dating now."

"Good." You state as you kiss his collar bone, the two of you shimmy under the duvet and pass out. The thin white sheet perfect for keeping you comfortable.

You can't wait for next time.

BRO WHEN I FIRST WROTE THIS MY APP GLITCHED AND ALL THE WRITING I DID AFTER THE READ MORE SPLIT WAS DELETED!!! I SWITCHED TO MY LAPTOP AFTER THAT

I was so mad I was calm, I re-wrote everything so I hope y'all like it! ❤️

I've been a sucker for Poly Dabihawks/hotwings, so can I request poly dabihawks NSFW with a female darling who escaped and almost told the cops what happened but hawks just tells the cops she's drunk, they'd believe the number 2 hero more than some civilian, right? Can you make it 🍥 with collar and leash kink, hair pulling, and sadisim with burns and stuff?

AAA, I love the burnt chicken pair. And of course you can request that!

Shouldn’t have done that 🍥 🎂 🍮

MASTERLIST

Word count: 5k

Contents: Yan!Poly!DabiHawks punishing fem!darling who escapes.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NON CON, PUNISHMENTS, MANIPULATION, HEAVY SADISM, BURNING, LEASH AND COLLARING, HAIR PULLING, DEGRADATION, FEM!DARLING, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, ORAL (GIVING), BRANDING.

You don’t know how much time you’ve been trapped here, considering that you had no contact with the outside world. The television doesn’t have a news channel for some reason, so you can’t figure out if the world knows you’re still alive, if the world still cares about getting you back to safety.

Tears pool at your eyes, you know Dabi will be angry if he sees you crying again. You don’t want to piss him off, he scares you. And you know that if Keigo sees you crying he’ll force cuddle you, he’ll force you to talk to him about why you are crying, and if you tell him that its because you miss the outside he’ll be the one that's pissed off.

You hiccup heavily, but something inside you sparks when you feel a current of cold air hit your back. Your breath hitches, and you run outside of your room towards the kitchen, where the backdoor is.

Its open.

Its open.

Its a trap.

Or is it?

You step outside for a second, barefooted and feeling the warm sun hit your face. You giggle at it, you’ve missed this so much, tears quickly find their way in your eyes again. 

You take another step, and another, and another, and yet another one. You start walking, getting away from the house of nightmares. You walk faster, trying to find somewhere safe, somewhere you can run to, a friends house, a family members house, something, anything. You start running, the smallest of sounds feeding your paranoia of both men running to catch you. 

You run, not caring about the curious looks of people around you. You don’t care, you need to run, you need to hide, you need to find someone who helps you. You look around, you look at the sky for the menacing silhouette of one of your captors, circling around you like a vulture at a dead animal.

You run again, your feet are burning but there’s nothing you care about except running away. There’s no compassion, nobody offers to help you, nobody offers to lend you a hand, to ask if you’re okay, this feels you with rage, but also with fear.

You keep running away, trying to find a familiar face, maybe an old teacher that you had on high school, maybe a pro-hero that wasn’t completely insane, maybe a friend you hadn’t talked to before your disappearance, that aunt you didn’t see often, the old man that sold you vegetables on the weekends, your boss, a co-worker, anything, anyone, please.

And then you saw it, a police officer. A person who could empathize with you, a person who was also quirk less and could see how to help you.

Hawks enters the house, chirping happily. He brought you your favorite food since he has seen you a bit down this last couple of days and he wants to chirp you up.

“Hey, duckling! I have a surprise for you” he places the takeout bags on the kitchen counter, curious about the fact that there’s not a single sound on the house.

‘Maybe she’s asleep’ he thinks, stepping towards the room. He doesn’t find you there ‘maybe Dabi took her somewhere, I’ll call him’ he thinks again, trying not to panic. He dials the number, the scarred man picking up quickly “ ‘sup, birdbrain?” he asks “everything alright?” 

“Is y/n with you?”

“Why would I take her with me? its not ´bring your baby to work’ day” he says sarcastically, picking up what was wrong in the situation “she’s hiding, Hawks. Don’t worry, she’s hiding on the cabinets again, I’m sure. I’ll come back there, c’mon wait for me” 

“Fine, hurry up” he sighs, hanging up, maybe he’s right, you must be hiding. He’ll let you stay there for a moment, if you come out before Dabi gets here he’ll negotiate something so you don’t get punished. 

And he gets there quick, entering the house panting. “Did she come out?” he asks trying to catch his breath, Keigo shakes his head. Dabi sighs heavily “c’mon y/n, its not funny” he yells towards nowhere “we won’t punish you, doll. Its alright” he’s telling the truth, he can understand why you’re afraid, maybe you broke a plate, maybe you spilled some water, maybe you did something stupid and you’re scared “baby, we’re gonna find you anyways, so come ou-” he can’t finish the sentence, the backdoor of the kitchen opening.

He had to fix the lock, Hawks told him.

Well shit.

Hawks doesn’t even tell him, flying out the door towards the city. You ran away, its alright, maybe you were going to tell them, maybe you were gonna buy something, maybe someone broke in and you were trying to run to safety. 

But he’s boiling in anger when he finds you, you’re trying to reach a police officer. But not so fast, he scoots you in his arms in the blink of an eye, not even giving you a chance to get anywhere near safety.

“What the hell are you doing?” his eyes are sharper than usual, and his voice is stern “better have a good explanation for this” he hisses, lifting you up high “you’re in big trouble, y/n” he keeps talking “this is probably the single most stupidest thing you could have done in your life time” he rushes towards the house “what I’m saying is...” he opens the door and uses one of his feathers to push you inside “you shouldn’t have done that”.

Dabi receives you, is usual mischievous grin is gone, it makes you shiver. He sits you down on the couch, you try to run towards your room, to hide from them, a burning hand stops you. You yell and cover your face in a reflex, Dabi can almost pity you, but that won’t stop him from doing to what he has planned.

“Well, explain yourself” he stands there with his arms closed, cocking a brow while Keigo locks all of the doors. He forces you to sit down on the couch, you’re sobbing and shaking. He has to control the urge to comfort you, to let you cry in his big strong arms while birdbrain scolds you. But he can’t do that, you fucked up big time, and you don’t deserve the treatment he wishes to give you.

You can’t explain anything you did, and you don’t even regret doing it. If only you had told the cops you would be safe by now, that's the only thing you regret about this whole situation. You sob heavily, hyperventilating and trying to find a way to demand them to let you go, tell them how much you despise them, how much you hate that stupidly kind and warm smile Keigo gives you every morning, how much you want to puke every time Dabi calls you a sweet pet name.

“I hate you!” you bark at them, red eyed and completely contrary to your docile and meek attitude. Hawks’ wings puff up, making him look more menacing than before, his eyes sharpen. And one his feathers places at your throat, sharp and ready to slice it open. Your breath hitches, you still bend and break as easily as before. He removes it from there, not a single wound on your body.

Yet.

Dabi can feel sadness and anger accumulate inside him, he grabs a handful of your hair. You yell, you scream, you plead for him to let you go, that you didn’t mean it, that you are sorry.

“You dirty fucking liar” he hisses, his grip on your hair is hard and unescapable, he throws you to the ground, your scalp hurts  and tears pool at your eyes. You hear something unbuckle, and your previously closed eyes open wide at the sound, is he going to hit you with his belt?

He sits down, still holding you in place with his hand. If you try to struggle he will hurt you badly, so you only await for what's prepared for you. He pushes his pants down, not all the way, just enough to let his semi-hard cock peek. You start crying now. Your knees are bruised from falling down forcefully, you would expect the blonde to stop him, to tell him that what he is doing is wrong and that they are the ones that should apologize.

But that moment never comes.

Dabi uses the already hard grip on your hair to pull you closer to the head of his cock, your nose and lips touch the thick length and you have to contain the urge to puke at the sight of that pierced dick in front of you. Its bigger than average and you know it, you can see little white hairs growing at his lower abdomen. Its seems hygienic enough, but you just can’t help but be so disgusted about it, maybe its because of the person carrying it.

Keigo smirks, already knowing what Dabi has in mind just by the sight of you being forced on his cock, you open your mouth reluctantly, but he shoves his length inside you quickly, making your eyes crystalize as you gag down on that piece of meat. He gets closer to you, not saying a word, just slowly unbuckling his belt as well. Dabi looks at his golden eyes, sharing a mutual pleasure of finally getting a taste of you.

They had contained themselves, wanting your first time with them to be consensual and loving, but it seems like plans have changed. Dabi pulls your hair as he pulls your mouth away from his cock, instead forcing you closer to Keigo’s. “C’mon, please him” he orders, you don’t say anything. Your eyes reflect the most anger they had ever seen someone had “be a good pet” your eyes open wide and your brows furrow “I don’t want to” you say in a thread of voice, Dabi chuckles gravely “that was an order, not a request” he says, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You open your mouth again, Dabi lets go for a second, letting birdbrain take control of the pace he is going to fuck your mouth with, you try to escape, instead earning a slap on your face, its feels as if you’ve been hit with a hot iron, you cry harder, but none of them comfort you, instead a soft hand pulls harshly at your hair. He inserts his length all the way into your mouth, neatly trimmed blonde pubic hairs tickle at your nose, but the fast pace he fucks your mouth at doesn’t allow you to focus enough on that. You’re tempted to bite down at his length, to chop it and make a bloody mess, would he kill you if you did? Was it worth it to taste your luck like that?

You decide its not, only sucking and pleasing that winged psychopath. “Gonna fill your throat so good” he groans, you internally plead that he doesn’t cum on your mouth, you just hope that he will have the mercy to not stain your insides with his filthy cum. “Watcha’ say? I wanna se her pretty little face covered in cum” he invites Dabi to join on his malicious plan, you want to scream. But when the scarred man joins him stoking his cock, and you feel him pull out, your face gets covered in cum as you gasp for the air that your lungs where craving. Sticky, hot ropes of thick white liquid stain your lashes, nose, lips, temples and every part they can reach. Those monsters on top of you have the audacity to laugh at your teary eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry birdie” Keigo pets your hair, you tense “you owed us this for what you just did, and I think you owe us even more” he whispers the last sentence, this time you tremble.

“Go clean yourself up, whore” Dabi instructs, pulling his pants up and searching for a cigarrette to smoke. You can’t move, instead hugging yourself while tears run down your cheeks. He pulls your hair again, forcing you to stand up. You cry and scream for him to let go “don’t piss me off more, go do what I told you” his eyes narrow “Or are you that dumb of a mutt that you need us to do it? Is that it? Are you just a stupid useless bitch that needs their masters to help them behave?” he asks, you kick and scream trying to free of his grip. Its a pitiful scene, your face is covered in cum and your hair is messy, your eyes and lips are puffy. He smiles at how much power he has over you “well then you should have told us” his smirk grows “we’re always happy to discipline a bad little doggy”.

You only cry and beg him to let go, you’re abruptly thrown to the ground, you curl upon yourself. Trying to catch your breath. You lift up your dress and use the skirt to clean the things that cover your face. You look at the remains attached to your skirt, and you almost gag at how disgusted you feel. Its horrible, you regret every part of this god awful day.

You wonder what would have happened if you didn’t run away, if you compliantly waited for Hawks to get home and told him in a soft voice “I think Dabi left the door open by accident, Keigo”. He would frown and ruffle your hair, and kiss your cheek “its okay, birdie. I’ll fix it in no time”. He would use his feathers to do the job, he would fix it in no time and would feed you with whatever those take out boxes had inside. It would be a nice day, he would let you watch television while cuddling with him. When Dabi came home Keigo would scold him, you would giggle at their fight without them noticing.

“Stupid burnt piece of shit! You left the door open, what if something happened to y/n?? What if someone entered and took her away? You’re lucky they waited for me to get here and fix it”

“Well, you could have closed the door yourself, not my fucking fault” he would smirk as he exhales smoke purposefully on Keigo’s face.

You would kindly ask them to stop fighting, Dabi would sigh and kiss your forehead “don’t worry doll, I won’t kill this stupid bird man” he would smile “yet” he would whisper high enough for Keigo to hear, you would giggle again, this time he notices. His blush and anger disappearing and being replaced with a soft smile.

Maybe if things had been different this situation wouldn’t be happening. They would lovingly caress your body, Keigo would place some soft kisses on your shoulders while hugging you from behind, you would feel his pretty cock rubbing at your back and ass. Dabi would place his thick warm fingers inside you, spreading you open as he coos how pretty you look all flustered.

Keigo would help Dabi force his cock in while he is inside, taking you both at the same time. Your glistening pussy stretched out so lovingly that all of the pain of the double penetration would be forgotten. A sweet night of love making.

But that day would never come, not since you did this.

That’s the worse part, you could have avoided this and you knew, but still chose to obey that primal and irrational part of your brain, Did you even stand a chance of getting away? Would the number two hero leave you alone? Would he even be arrested? As you analyze the situation further you realize how much of a mistake you have made, how wrong it was to do this, how bad you had fucked up.

“I’m sorry” you mumble, hoping it would make things right “you should be” Dabi answers. Hawks seems to have disappeared, you can’t feel his presence nor hear his voice. Quickly there’s a sound at the door, Hawks drops a bag on the ground. Dabi stands up, inspecting what he bought with a smile.

The blonde uses one of his feathers to lift you up and bring you close to both of them. He uses both of his hands to hold you in place, not that you would have tried to run anyways, the burning feeling on your cheek reminds you that you should stay still. “Since you wanted to be a disobedient mutt so bad we bought you this” Dabi smiles, placing something on your neck. You know what it its, and you can’t believe this is happening to you. A collar, pastel pink, with little hearts to make the illusion of spikes, the shackle is also heart shaped, its bigger and it seems it has been designed for a matching leash.

Hawks lets go of you, a feather on your throat reminding you yet again to not do anything stupid. He places the matching leash on the shackle, he lets you hold the leather piece on your hands, its pastel pink as well, it has your name branded on it. You look at it with pure horror, not knowing what to do or say, your eyes tear up again as Dabi snatches the leash away from your hands, he pulls at it without a warning making you trip, he catches you in his arms before you fall “careful” he teases, and you contain the urge to fall on his arms completely, to let go and just give them the opportunity to take all of you for themselves just like they wanted, to own your body, mind and soul in exchange of a gentle treatment, of a warm bath and a nice meal. But you don’t, you tremble in his arms as he chuckles again “such a little cry baby” he says, he makes you fall to your knees. And both of them are standing tall in front of you, menacing and completely over powering yourself.

“C’mon, mutt” a deep voice gets you out of your mind, startled you look at them “give us a show, you still owe us something for doing that” Keigo smiles, he tugs at the leash, making you remain on all fours. You don’t really know what to do, there’s nothing you can say, only breathing heavily as you start to panic. But they don’t give you time for that, he tugs at the leash again, and your brain engines start to slowly function “you want me to be your dog?” you ask with a shaky voice “yeah, and for starters: bitches don’t talk” Keigo responds, eloquently as always “so better start acting like one and bark” he says. You start crying “I don’t want to! You can’t make me!” you protests, but earn another wave of laughter at you “Aw, we can’t? Pretty sure there’s a million ways we can break you” Dabi hisses with a smile “so... are you gonna cooperate? Or do we have to give you a little incentive?” that last word makes you feel a fear you have never felt. You don’t want to find out what kind of incentive they’re referring to. It could be violence, it could be drugs.

It could be the death of you.

You gather all of your strength, you gather all of your will ‘I won’t break, I won’t break, I won’t break!!!!’ your mind tells you to run, to fight, to find a weapon, but it also yells, it yells ‘be compliant, be nice, be obedient and maybe you won’t get hurt, and maybe things will go back to normal’ and you decide to listen to that part of your brain, its rational, its something that could work. And so you crawl on all fours closer to them, you’re blushing, you’re crying.

And you’re barking.

You bark, you wiggle your ass in lack of a tail, your tongue is lolling out of your mouth as you pant, hoping its good enough. And it pleases them, watching you loose all of your dignity to make them feel happy, to keep your integrity. Are you enjoying yourself while doing it? Probably not, and that awakes something dark in the back of their heads. 

Still, they just watch you put up that pathetic show in front of them, its not even arousing to them, just funny to watch. And they wonder, should they have resorted to breaking you like this a long time ago? Probably not, you weren’t actively disobeying or disrespecting them. But in the back of their heads there’s something that tells them that they should have. Is it curiosity? Or that morbid feeling that accompanies it? There’s just something that they were craving from you and maybe this was what they wanted. 

You stop, sobbing heavily and covering your face with your hands. They already saw you cry, but there’s something in here that makes you feel more vulnerable, is it the fact that your skirt is covered in their semen? That your face has the hand print of one of them? Or is it the fear that Keigo will actually slice your throat open this time? You don’t really want to find out, you don’t really want to know what is it that you fear so much this time.

It just feels so different, you were already afraid, you were already scared, terrified even, of what they could do to you. You were prepared for anything because of this, to get robbed, sold, raped, anything remotely bad that could happen to you. You were already mentalized for it, just not this, anything but this.

It wasn’t the sexual aspect of it that disgusted you so much, it was how vulnerable it made you feel, how naked you feel, how exposed, how deprived of any free will you have been ever since this whole thing started. And it was the guilt, you were feeling guilty about doing this, not only because of the punishment you were receiving, because of what you did. Was this the start of Stockholm syndrome? Maybe it was, you felt guilty. You felt guilty because you could see the sadness in Keigo’s eyes whenever you assumed the bitter memory of you escaping and almost telling someone came back to his head. Because you could see how Dabi wanted to stop this and comfort you, you could see it in his body language, how he bit his lip harshly at the sight of you on the floor, with a slap mark that he caused.

You were guilty because you caused them pain, you caused them harm. Were you the one to blame for this? You didn’t really know, it was all so confusing. 

And you heard them sigh, one of them at least. There wasn’t a tug at the leash, just a pet to your head. You looked upwards, facing the black haired man giving you a warm smile, you cried again, your  lip wobbling as you hugged his legs. “I’m sorry!” you screamed, because you were. 

Hawks was crying to, he hated to cause you pain, and he knew Dabi did as well. It left a bitter taste on their mouth, considering how much they were harmed as children and even as adults, they hated to cause you any sort of pain. They were the ones feeling guilty, they just wanted to stop this.

Dabi helped you get out of your dress, tossing it away as Hawks searched for something more comfortable to put you on. You were naked, but you felt less vulnerable and exposed than before. Keigo entered with an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, it looked comfortable enough. But just when he was about to help you get dressed Dabi stopped him. Keigo arched a brow, silently asking him what the fuck was he doing. 

Dabi stared at you with his ice cold eyes, wondering if what he was about to do was right. Your punishment had ended, but he still felt that he had to do it.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, loud enough for both of you to hear it. Hawks blinked twice in confusion, what was he apologizing for. But when he felt the heat emanating from his body he knew exactly what he was about to to.

And the idea didn’t sound as bad as he thought. It would only hurt for a bit, and it was worthy it. The bitter flavor on his tongue returned, and he frowned as he used his arms to bend you over and hold you in place, ass up and face down. You panicked, your breath hitching once again, you didn’t put up a fight, instead wondering when would you hear the belt unbuckling once again, and when would you feel your cunt being forced open by Dabi’s cock.

But that moment never came “please, stay still” his low baritone voice resounded in every single part of your mind. You felt heat close to your ass cheeks, and you wondered what you were about to feel, and as a hot finger started tracing something you could feel the worst pain you have ever felt. It traced a letter, you screamed, ear piercing and throat soaring scream. Hawks grip tightened, as he sent some of his feathers to hold you further in place. You tried to move your hips but it was useless, you were firmly held in the spot. You kept screaming, as he slowly traced his burning hot fingers on your soft flesh, it was as if time had stopped, painfully slow as he branded your ass. You wondered what it said, if it was something derogatory, your mind went away and then came back. Was it the sudden cold that hit the burning mark on your skin? It stinged, it burned so hard you wondered if this is what cattle felt like whenever they were marked. 

Tears rolled down your eyes, sobbing heavily as you wondered why were they doing this. Did they find joy in the enormous amount of pain you were being put through? There were so many thoughts and so many questions. Hawks’ grip softened, as he hushed your cries. They switched places, Hawks’ feathers never left the spot that they kept you trapped in, you felt something sharp now, opposed to cold in the unmarked place of your other ass cheek, you gasped when the tip of said sharp object started to dig into your skin, making you cry again, you didn’t beg them to stop, only letting him finish his already started job. You could hear him sob as he continued moving the sharp blade on your doughy skin. You cried harder, as you felt blood dripping down your thighs and exposed sex. And when he finally removed the blade after tracing a set of patterns that you couldn’t figure out entirely, but assumed were letters. You fainted, your mind left your body and you fell limp on the now stained silk linen bed sheets.

You felt so exhausted, you didn’t have any dreams on that state you were suspended in of pure nothingness. You just couldn’t feel anything, any emotions or any kind of pain were simply devoided from your already broken mind.

You woke up alone, when you tried sitting down on the bed you yelped in pain, when you tried to massage the sore region you found it to be even more painful, you curled upon yourself, breathing slow and deep in an attempt to stand up with the little strength you had. Memories from yesterday flooded your mind. Little bit of sunlight entered through the closed window, you looked outside, you weren’t were you used to be. You focused your eyes, only finding a dim sky, cloudy and dull. You sighed, there wasn’t the small patio in the back of the house as before. Instead a plain of grass and a couple of trees standing in the way of your eyesight.

You stood up, staring at the outside trying to figure out where the hell were you. You jumped in surprise when you heard someone open the door of the room.

“Hey, dove” the blonde smiled “I see you like the view” he says with a soft voice, he brings you a glass of water, your throat feels raw as you thank him. 

“Where are we?” you ask.

“Far away” he responds

Dabi enters the room shortly after, his eyes reflect pain and guilt but you don’t comment on it. 

“I want- I want to take a shower please” you say, expecting them to lead you to the bathroom “No can do, doll” Dabi answers “it will hurt badly, in about a week or so you’ll be able to, but for now you should wait” he kisses your hand, making you blush.

“Is it because-”

“Yes” he seems to not want to talk about it, you don’t insist “you’re gonna be here from now on” he states “just can’t risk you running away again” his voice lowers by the moment.

You don’t know what to say, its not like you would try to run away again, after that “I understand” you respond. Hawks smiles at this, at least you understand the situation and won’t do anything stupid.

Like yesterday.

He doesn’t even want to remember it, he feels cruel, he feels like a bad person. It must hurt, your skin was branded and carved with both of their names. But it was worth it, now you’ll never be able to escape, not without a mark of who you belong to.

Them.

Forever.

I hope you enjoy this, darling

Have a great day/night

can you do toji? Like where he comes back home to see you but your gone and he would start to panic because he doesn't know where you are and wondering if you left him and the reader left to go shopping for groceries and we wrote a note for him and telling him we was leaving to shop but he forgot and thought we left him Completely until we returned to the house with groceries and Toji on the floor crying? 😼 I hope this makes sense this is my first time requesting this 😊

Running Errands, Not Away

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SFW fic, sad pathetic Toji, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, domestic fluff, panic attack, a couple of swear words

A/N: Thank you so much for your request @sleepypulm ! You were the first to ask so I'm extra grateful to you <3. I got a little carried away and I didn't expect to write so much haha. I tried to do both Toji and reader POV. I hope my illustration of his panic was atleast a little realistic, going off my own experiences. I really hope you like it!

(image found on Pinterest)

Toji Fushiguro fears nothing. Why should he? He is the infamous Sorcerer Killer, after all. Sure, he doesn’t have any cursed energy. But that never stopped him, in fact even the Time Vessel Association begged for his help. He has hunted many and beaten more. Nothing ever gets in his way. But then he meets you. It’s as if the deeds of his past melt away in your wake, and his sins lay forgiven. The heaviness he carried within him seems insignificant now. You somehow brought back warmth and colour in his life. Sometimes Toji lies awake at night wondering what he did to deserve you. He never figured out why you loved him. He could barely express himself emotionally. He was a broken man from the inside and he had done everything wrong to fix that- gambling, killing, shady deals. Yet you never begrudged him of his shortcomings. All you did was love him. Quietly and loudly, through actions and words, in public and in private. You introduced him to all your friends, dragged him along to Sunday brunches and even made those stupid little sandwiches for picnics in the park. He’d never tell you that he actually loved those sandwiches, despite his protests, each and every flavour.

Which is why this hurt. Worse than when he had almost been gutted trying to take out some Grade 2 sorcerer. Worse than having shards of glass shoved down his throat. Worse than anything Toji had felt before in his miserable life. He had come home after a long day and was looking forward to sleep, you, a cold compress, and food. Not necessarily in that order. The keys jangled in his large hands as he pushed the door open. He called your name - once, twice, thrice. 

That’s odd. No answer. 

You always fling yourself at him like you hadn’t seen him in days every evening when he got home. You’d talk his ear off about your day and steer him to the couch while you asked about his. He had gotten used to this routine and after an initial few days of sulking, he had even leaned into it. But there was only pin-drop silence today. Worry blooms in his chest. Toji tried to tamp it down as he slid his bag off his shoulders. Maybe you were just taking a nap and hadn’t heard him. Or you were in the shower. Yes- that had to be it. Why else wouldn’t you answer him? Unless…

Toji stalks towards the closest door - the study - and flings it open. Nothing but darkness. Obviously unused, he shuts the door and takes off towards the bathroom. He didn’t even bother with the kitchen, the lights were off and only the fridge hummed gently. Nothing in the bathroom either. Toji’s heart was pounding now. That only left the bedroom, and he wasn’t liking his odds. He could see no light coming from underneath the door, but maybe that didn’t mean anything because, of course, you’d turn the lights off when sleeping… right? No such luck. Panic gripped him fully. Toji slowly makes his way over to the bed. The mattress bows under his weight. He can’t stop himself spiralling now. 

You’re just late, that’s all. Probably traffic, work’s been crazy. You’re not the kind to just… leave. You wouldn’t do that, not to Toji. The fight you had last week over taking a trip abroad seems so inane now. Surely that wasn’t the reason. People argue, it’s normal. Maybe you’re at your mom’s. You’ll text him, or call him, or something. You probably just needed some space. Yep, that’s it. That has to be it. 

The silence in the house suddenly becomes suffocating. It pushes its way into his lungs and threatens to take over his senses. Is this what a panic attack feels like? Toji tries to breathe. It’s the first thing they taught him, even before he lifted a weapon. 

Breathe, control your body, control your mind. Panic helps no one, it only disrupts concentration. 

Well, fuck that, Toji thinks. None of his training mattered now. Not when- not when you were just gone. Toji checks his phone one last time. His wallpaper- the picture he took of you laughing after he fell on his ass in the snow- seems to mock him now. Nothing in his messages and nothing in his calls.

You’re gone and it’s my fault, Toji thinks. 

His breathing speeds up. He feels the weight of it all now like it’s crushing his chest. He slips off the edge of the bed, his wide shoulders shaking. His face feels wet and warm- Toji can’t even remember the last time he cried, not like this. His body heaves and his mind betrays him further- What did I do? What did I say? What did I not say? And then it comes down on him, all at once. The sobs he’s been choking down, his denial turning into sharp-edged grief. It feels like he’s stepped into some kind of quicksand and he’s drowning in the absence you’ve left behind. He doesn’t even try to stop it anymore. For once in his life, Toji lets himself feel.

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

You hum in tune to the music blasting in your ears. Balancing a checklist in one hand and a shopping basket in another, you take a final sweep of the grocery store and confirm that you’ve gotten everything. It’s your second anniversary with Toji. Last year, you both decided to go to the fair like a couple of lovestruck teenagers and shared a slice of cake (black forest with cherries on top, Toji’s favourite) to commemorate the event. This year, you decided to surprise Toji with a home-cooked two-course dinner. The menu consisted of lobsters on pasta and black forest cake. After paying for the groceries and bidding the cashier a good night, you drive home in the quiet evening. The orange of the streetlamps cast a magical glow on the streets and you marvel at the calm in the neighbourhood. A peaceful night in, you conclude. 

You grab the paper bags and head to your shared apartment. The keys jiggle in the lock and the door creaks open softly. You slip inside and kick your shoes off. The clock on the mantle tells you that you had accidentally stayed out later than planned so you hurry to the kitchen and begin setting things up. As you haul the fridge door open, you hear it. You freeze in place. Was that… a sniffle? Confusion floods your mind. As you cast a glance towards the door, you note Toji’s bag next to the shoe rack. He’s home already? But that means… was that Toji crying? You’re utterly baffled now. Following the source of the noise, you head to the bedroom. 

“Toji?” Your voice is soft but it seems to echo in the stillness. You take another step forward and scan the room. And then you see him- on the floor at the edge of the bed, hunched over, his muscular frame shaking. Your heart twists. You flick the lamp switch on and take cautious steps in his direction. 

“Toji,” you call again, firmer but still gentle. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look up. He’s clearly in distress, although you don’t know why. His breathing is uneven and he doesn’t move. A sharp spike of fear courses through you, but you ignore it as you kneel beside him, placing a careful palm on the flat expanse of his back. 

“Hey,” you whisper, struggling to keep your voice steady. “What’s wrong, honey? What happened?”

Toji flinches at your touch and finally looks up. His eyes were lined with red and full of something you couldn’t place- Guilt? Despair? He stares at you for a long moment, as if he’s never seen you before. Your worry increases. You’ve never seen Toji cry. Ever. You can feel your heart breaking. Something must be seriously wrong and you open your mouth to ask him again but he interrupts.

“You—” he croaked, his voice raw from what you assume was hours of crying, “You came back.”

You’re even more confused now but you’re slowly piecing it together. “Toji,” you say firmly, wiping the tear tracks away from his face, “I didn’t leave, you silly man. I went out for groceries. Have you forgotten what day it is today?”

He shakes his head and his breath catches again- it’s like he doesn’t believe you, or won’t. You don’t know what’s worse. 

“I thought,” his voice cracks, “I thought you were gone. That my past, the things I did… I thought you had had enough. That I—,” You don’t let him finish as you pull him towards you, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. You feel Toji sag against you. His large hands come up slowly, and he clings to you as if you’d vanish if he let go.

You stroke his hair gently and murmur into it, “I’m here, Toji. I’m not going anywhere. I love you. I see you for who you are, and you can’t scare me off, I promise.”

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text… I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend, I know you deserve better than someone like me and I just thought that you’d.. found someone or something better, and that you’d just left me and I wouldn’t blame you but—”

“Toji, stop,” you command. Your heart aches. You had no idea he still had these insecurities and you feel guilt creep in that you haven’t been able to assure him otherwise. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true, all right? I’m not leaving you. I’d never do that. I love you and we’re in this forever, okay?”

He doesn’t respond so you you just hold him tighter, hoping that your embrace conveys the reassurance your words can’t.

“Toji, I left you a note. You didn’t check the kitchen, did you? I thought that’s where you’d go for a snack after a long day, which is why I left you the note on the counter saying I’d be out for groceries. Oh, you big fool, Toji,” you’re scolding him now, “All you had to do was take two steps into the kitchen. I had to run out for groceries, it’s our anniversary tonight!”

Toji’s stiffens in realisation and he pulls back slightly. Embarrassment flits across his handsome features and he wipes a large paw across his face as if to scrub away traces of the panic that had gripped him earlier.

“Anniversary, huh?” He grumbles now, almost sheepish. “You.. uh.. just getting groceries? I thought—”

You laugh, feeling relief wash away your fears. Of all the times he’d called you melodramatic, it turns out he was the drama queen. You’re grinning now, “I wasn’t leaving you. I’ve been planning our anniversary dinner for weeks! I guess I’ve got to make it up to you now.”

Toji’s face turns a shade of red you’ve never seen before and you lean in to plant a kiss on his downturned mouth. He sighs, but he’s not angry; just embarrassed at himself for not taking a second to consider other logical conclusions. A small giggle escapes you as you watch him pull himself back together.

“I… I’m sorry.” He says it quietly, his eyes cast downward. “I just… I didn’t know, and I freaked out, and I thought maybe... I don’t know... you were done with me.”

You soften at his words, brushing his hair back from his forehead gently before cupping his face in your hands, making him meet your eyes. You run your thumb over the faint white scar across his lips.

“Toji,” you say, your voice tender. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, all right? I don’t care how much you think you mess up or how much you doubt yourself. I love you, and that’s not changing.”

His expression starts to shift as he takes in your words, the tension in his body easing slightly, but his eyes are still filled with uncertainty. “You really mean that?”

“I really mean it,” you reply, your smile softer now. “And as for tonight—let’s just forget about the grocery disaster and make it special anyway, yeah? We’ll laugh about this in a few years. How a big lump like you panicked and cried instead of taking the time to read a piece of paper.”

He chuckles, his hand coming up to gently grip yours as if holding on to that reassurance a little tighter, a smile slowly breaking through the wall of his insecurity.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I guess we will.”

thank you for reading! i appreciate any feedback. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. my requests are open. do not plagiarise my work and/or repost it anywhere without crediting me.

Taylor Swift Masterlist

✭ - smut

♡ - fluff

➳ - angst

۵ - hurt/comfort

☆ - headcanons

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Taylor Swift

"People are going to judge you anyway, so you might as well do what you want."

I Know Places - Taylor and you try everything in your power to hide your relationship from paparazzi during your date. [♡]

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Taylor Swift Inspired Fics Masterlist

Blood Rain | Katniss Everdeen

Pairing: Katniss Everdeen x fem!reader (District4!reader)

Summary: Your mission in the games was to get the victors who the love of your life wanted to be allies with. You did it, but it is never easy.

Warning/s: angst and fluff, this is really just a little blurb, blood, blood rain, death, madness, weapons, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Send requests for Katniss, Johanna and Cressida, I BEG YOU ALLL!!!

Where the hell is Finnick?!

Your angry thoughts continued to swarm you as you forced your legs to move along towards the beach. The beach. Water. You would quite literally kill for a few drops. All of you would.

Your feet were sticking to the leaves on the ground of the giant jungle due to the blood that covered you completely head to toe. The knifes pressed onto your suit were slightly digging into the skin of your legs as you took bigger steps, trying to get to the water at the Cornucopia as fast as you possibly could.

The biggest mistake you could have ever made was separating at the beginning of the games and now you had to suffer the consequences. Not that you had any choice, really.

When your platform raised up, putting you in the place from your nightmares you were standing quite far away from Finnick. The flash of the bright rays of sunshine were blinding you for a while and before you knew it you had to jump off of the pedastil. However you faced a major problem once you got in the middle of the water. You were rounding up Beetee, Wiress, Blight and Johanna who weren't able to swim. But once you did round them up you were attacked by Enobaria and Brutus. You couldn't fight them on your own as you tried to help your allies. You had no choice, you had to leave the idea of joining Katniss, Peeta and Finnick like you planned to. You had to run for the shore and loose yourselves in the vines and thick threes.

And that's how you ended up alone with Wiress, Beetee, Blight and Jo for a few days. You were severely dehydrated already so you were very happy once you heard something light hitting the leaves of the trees all around you. Only one thing could make those sounds. Raindrops. Now you could only imagine the shock planted onto your face once you realized that the things that were coming down onto you and your allies was not rain. Well, not rain made out of water. It was blood. It was burning you and was covering you too quickly.

This torture lasted for what felt like ages, but once it finally came to the stop you still didn't get out of the forest immediately.

As you ran ahead of the rest of the group, trying to escape the nightmares held within the forest, the living nightmares that tried to get you, the only thing on your mind was the safety of your lover. Katniss. God, you hoped that she was alive.

You didn't see her since the night before the games. You were lying with her in her bed, bringing her comport after yet another life inducing nightmare with which you were a little too familiar with. You met during your Victor's Tour the year that you won, but you became inseparable the moment she volunteered for the games to save poor Prim.

She was your everything. If you lost her you were sure that you wouldn't be able to pull through. So the moment Finnick and you heard about the rebellion you didn't waste a second, you joined immediately. You immediately accepted to join the plan of keeping the mockingjay safe. To get her out.

The moment you stepped out of the forest, yelling for your allies you heard the voice that belonged to an angel shout your name. It was the voice of your angel.

You tuned around as Katniss practically jumped on you, hugging you so tightly that you felt like you couldn't breathe. But it didn't bother you at all. The thought of her was one of the only thing that kept you going for a very long time now. You wrapped your arms around her quickly, afraid that she would disappear.

"What happened, Y/N?" Finnick's concerned voice brought you to reality, you had to separate from Katniss so you moved yourself away so you could look at Finnick but you never moved your hand that felt right into Katniss' away.

"It was horrible," You admitted, sighing a bit. "Jo, Blight, Beetee, Wiress and I rounded up at the beginning, but then Enobaria attacked us by the Cornucopia."

The rest of your allies that came from the forest weren't far away from you. Johanna was right on the other side of you, sticking her axe into the sand on the beach as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Beetee was leaned over, still in pain from the knife that he received in the back. Wiress was walking in the circle around you constantly repeating "Tick-Tock" over and over again. All of them were covered in blood just like you were.

The sight alone brought an uneasy feeling in Katniss. She looked at you once again, clear signs of dehydration were there along with the heavy breathing as you still tried to get the air into your lungs and the fact that you looked like you bathed in blood was enough for her to gripp your hand tighter in hers.

"We had no choice but to run for the forest," You continued your story, Finnick's pair of sea green eyes mirroring your own, a reminder of where you come from, watched you intensely as you spoke. "We stayed there up until now."

"What then?"

"Tick-Tock."

"We heard the rain coming down, but it wasn't rain." You ran your free hand through your hair as you let out a sigh.

"It turned out it was blood. So much blood. It was falling on us, choking us. We were stumbling around trying to get here gagging on it blind. But then Blight hit the force field..." You looked down, grief swallowing you at the reminder of Johanna's face at that moment. "And now he's gone..."

"Tick-Tock."

"What's going on with her?" Peeta asked, looking at Wiress.

"She's in shock," Beetee said as he removed his glasses, wiping his face while he tried to get rid of the blood that covered him. "The dehydration isn't helping. Do you have fresh water?"

"We can get some." Katniss' soft voice next to you spoke and you turned to her again, your eyes full of love.

"How about you go wash up?" Finnick smirked at you, obviously catching the look that you send Katniss. You just glared at your district partner, but you listened and started to walk towards the water, pulling Katniss along with you.

You're not letting her out of your sight again.

As you washed the blood off of yourself, your hair, suit, knives and everything you talked to Katniss. You felt like you could listen to her forever. And at the moment when you dove into the water completely to get the rest of the blood to go away Katniss followed the suit. You never took your eyes off of her as you watched her place her hands on your face, giving you warm smile, the smile that was only reserved for the ones she loved the most, before she pulled you in, locking your lips with hers. Away from the cameras for a few short moments.

From that moment on you swore to yourself that you would follow her anywhere.

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TAGLIST:

@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944

splintered machinations - pts one & two

Mer!Dabi x fem!Princess!Reader (SFW)

Hi guys! I've never done anything for MerMay before--I've never written any mer!characters/content before--but @meliapis graduated, I wanted to write something for her, and she mentioned mer!dabi...so, I just had to write a (not so) little something. This is still ongoing and will be updated periodically throughout May, but this is just a fun little idea I got from her and I wanted to share it as a graduation gift! Go check out her MerMay requests, too! <3

Synopsis: Boarding a ship per your father's orders, you begin the voyage across the deep blue sea toward Haliware Island. Despite the easy sailing the first few days, it seems the last isn't going to be the smoothest sailing.

Warnings: descriptions of spooky sea creatures in the deep ocean, descriptions of drowning, a hint of sailor!hawks, story will also contain: lots of future nsfw content, sexual tension, mer!dabi being a teasing & dirty talking kinda rogue, courting, idk what to call it but it kinda has regency era vibes but in a fantasy setting and not as stuffy, political stuff/politics between nations, a bit of reader x OC (but it's for the plot, I promise), and more (tbd as I write)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is my first time writing mer!stuff. I hope y'all like it! This is for you, @meliapis!!

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. No wind. No birds. Just sun. Beautiful, warm, wonderful sun. A soft creaking came as the boat beneath you gently bobbed; the nails holding it together stayed firm amongst the calm waters. One more day.

You’d be at the castle in one day. 

Your dress fluttered in an unmistakable breeze as the crew maneuvered around you. Ropes were pulled, sails were checked, a wheel was steered. Crates were secured firm to the deck, a thick cannon had its wheels stopped so it pointed out at sea regardless of the waves' strength, and songs were sung around bottles of liquor.

“Your Highness,” a smooth voice said, a head almost blocking the sun. “Care to join us?”

The blond, with cheeks that always seemed to burn and gain freckles than ever tan, peered down at you with a cheery smile. He wiggled a mug of beer that sloshed at the brim, his playfully slurred words fell across the empty span of where you sat. Two protective guards stood behind you. As if you were some treasure meant to be protected, not cargo. 

“I’d prefer to have my wits about me when at the mercy of the ocean,” you cooed, pushing up to your forearms. “You should know that, Keigo.”

“Mhm.” He raised his glass and glanced back at the group chugging down theirs below him. “But, surely, you ought to have a little fun before we arrive.”

Behind you, the guards shifted. A warning to him. His sharp golden eyes quickly stared back at them. A shhhh came as a sword was pulled partially out of a sheath, but Keigo remained. His sharp canines showed in his smile.

“Hence why I decided to look for shapes in a cloudless sky.”

You motioned up, but your point went unproven. A few puffy white clouds crept onto the scene. One looked like a barrel from a shootout, the cloud breaking the wood as bullets shot through the sky; another resembled your castle back home. Tall peaks, overlapping points with red and white flags attached, a door that often stayed closed until ceremonies. 

Keigo’s eyes narrowed at the sky.

“Well, Your Highness,” he said with a teasing bow. His slender frame curved, his oversized white shirt dropped down to expose his chest, and the tight fit of his brown pants stretched. “Enjoy the show, then.”

You threw up a sarcastic wave before sinking back down. The flash of skin was nothing new on the ship—the crew walked around only caring if their skin burned beyond repair. And as a few more clouds joined the castle in the sky, even more shirts were opened while beer was spilled, humidity rose, and laughter shot across the open air.

Keigo raised his glass when your eyes danced from the sky to the group. Some sat on barrels, others on the edge of the ship, more on the floor. The clinking glasses sounded like the chains around your wrists. The chortle was met with gruffs behind you. Under the breath comments idiots and pigs. Their royal breastplates had refused to be removed unless it was underneath the hottest suns. 

Breakfast could’ve been cooked on them—sprays of water sizzling as they were propped up on the side of the boat. 

“I rather think you two are,” you murmured, glancing back at the two soldiers. “They’re drinking while you think I’m somehow going to jump ship in the middle of the ocean.” They stared daggers at you like always. “What? Where am I going to go?”

You shoved up despite the eyes from the crew turning your way. A playful hint joined your tone as you spun, shade casting itself across the desk. The soldiers, sunburnt and peeling, glowered and tightened their grips on their swords. Just like the concept of you jumping ship, there wasn’t a chance they’d raise a blade to you. You were precious cargo. No harm could come to you before you got to the castle. They simply just had to make sure you got to the castle. 

“We’re still a day out; there’s nothing here.” 

You ignored the grumbled version of your name and their stiff movement toward you as you trotted to the edge. Carefully yet swiftly, you hopped up on the thick edge and threw your arms out, the blue ocean sloshing against the boat just behind you. A gust of wind caught your thin dress, throwing the thin skirt up. Despite the decorum—or lack thereof—on the ship, all eyes were glued to the glimpse of your legs. 

“Get down,” one of the soldiers—Hyatt—said. His hand tightened on his blade. “Now, princess.”

You bowed slightly with a smile that made a few of the crew holler and laugh. More glasses clinked together, and more chattering crawled across the dark deck. The loud thump of your feet hitting the thick wood made Hyatt and Thorne–the other soldier–both relax slightly. But, still, their hands remained on their blades. 

“Have you always been so defiant?” Thorne grumbled to himself as he shifted, peering out over the ocean. 

“Yes,” Hyatt muttered softly. 

“No,” you corrected, walking over and looking over the bow. A soft sigh snuck out at the sight. The vast ocean was a rich, dark, deep blue. Bluer than you’d seen during the past three days. “But waking up and being told I’m going on an involuntary trip tends to make the demure vanish.” A soft sigh snuck out as you closed your eyes and took in the salty air. “The sea is beautiful, though.”

Wait.

Something caught in your chest as you cracked your eyes open. The low rumble crawled up the back of your neck. It seemed to make the boat shake, yet the water remained undisturbed. The dark water turned into an unknown shadow beneath you—what creatures swam below made your hair stand on the back of your neck—but you were safe on board. 

Another low rumble.

The clinking of glasses got a little louder and laughter grew heavier.

“Hey, Princess, get away from the edge,” Hyatt said behind you, but your eyes remained down on the ocean.

You couldn’t normally see the bottom the far out, but this felt different. Maybe there was no bottom. Maybe the rich dark blue found itself attached to a creature ten times the size of the ship. In moments, it would open its eyes and blink up at you, encompassing the whole expanse of the color. One flip of its tail would split the boat into two. Or maybe thousands of splintered pieces. 

Your heart thumped faster.

“Princess,” Thorne tried.

The ocean remained undisturbed as something wet splattered against your skin. No. Not undisturbed. By living creatures, yes. There weren’t any eyes blinking back at you or massive jaws unhinging to swallow the ship whole. No dangerous tentacles to rip you to shreds or even carnivorous fish aiming to nip at your legs. 

But there were waves. White-capped waves.

You made the mistake of shooting your eyes upward. Dark clouds had gathered into a dangerous conglomeration. Where they’d come from remained unknown, and that bright sky felt permanently out of sight. The sudden movement of your head, accompanied with a strong wave below, knocked you backward. Even Thorne and Hyatt lost their sea legs, staggering away from the boat’s side and trying to regain their stances. Hyatt, still, called for you, his hand finally leaving his sword.

Air was thrown from you as your back collided with the floor. There was that low rumble again—it crawled across the sky like a serpent waiting to strike. Lightning flashed bright in the sudden darkness. Gone was the sun, and pouring, pelting, painful rain swallowed everything. The sound became too loud to bear while blinking up at the sky, and as Hyatt and Thorne loudly cursed, it went unheard.

It all went unheard, even when they stepped toward you and yelled at you. 

But you couldn’t move. The way the boat jerked, the thought of it falling apart at its seams came far too easily, and those creatures that could be lurking below would devour you the second you were overboard. Their sharp teeth would sink easily through your skin and tear you apart without hesitation.

“Princess,” a familiar voice whispered. It drew you from your sudden choke-hold in your throats while a hand went to your wrist and hoisted you up. “We need to get you inside.”

Keigo’s gold eyes blinked down at you, his smile unwavering even as yours twisted in fear. You nodded. 

“Move carefully and quickly,” he said loud enough for you to hear, both hands going to your waist. In otherwise less life-endangering scenarios, Keigo would’ve been reprimanded for even considering touching you, let alone on your waist. A sailor putting his hands on the Princess? Blasphemous. Yet you leaned into him as he balanced you and guided you down the stairs. All you had to do was get inside the Captain’s quarters, then you’d be safe. You both knew that. “Keep going, Princess. We’re almost there.” 

But almost there wasn’t a simple turn around a corner and through a sturdy door. Multiple steps descended onto the deck as water gathered upon everything. It slickened the boards that normally kept you steady; it weighed your dress down and made it cling to your legs; it pushed a ringing in your ears that sounded so high-pitched, it hurt. 

Your eyes went overboard as the ringing got worse. It was unwise to never heed a sailor’s warning. Just as it was unwise to never heed any warning from anyone so well-trained, experienced, and skilled in their field. You wouldn’t tell a world-renowned chef how to cook. You wouldn’t ignore a soldier’s careful heed before going out on the battlefield. You certainly wouldn’t ignore the stories told around the crew that the ocean was as beautiful as it was untrusting. It could be a person’s life and so obviously their death. Whether the fins and tentacles they saw after days of travel were real, it was always smarter to not take the chance.

So when Keigo braced you against his chest as the ship jolted, you leaned into him more. When he muttered to hold still for the next few seconds, you did. And when he told you to go, you trusted him. His gut. 

But he was still only a man. One without the blessing of foresight. 

The wave hit the boat harder than the others while a gust of wind knocked you back as if you were nothing more than a piece of paper. A slippery board caused your demise as Keigo’s grip struggled on your wet skin. They skated over you, his short nails barely scraping, until he threw his other hand out for you. Desperation clawed at him the way it did you, but his fingers only got a grasp on your dress. And that silky material was hell in his grip–slippery and betraying without a moment’s thought. 

There was fear and panic in those golden eyes as the thick banister meant to keep you safe dug into your back. The unkempt splinters snagged on your clothing as the world went upside down, and there was no ground beneath your feet. 

Was the rain coming from the ocean or the sky? Which dark sea was which? 

It felt like falling onto the floor when Keigo became a small speck on the boat. The air was knocked from your lungs so ineloquently, and you barely managed a gasp before you knew what was coming next. 

Darkness.

Soaking wet, impenetrable darkness. 

A sharp pain caught your back, then your arms, down into your legs. Cold. It was cold. Perhaps shock? Swim. You felt yourself sink deeper as you blinked through the salty water. The ache got worse, your body threatened to stop, and farther away the boat got. Swim, (Y/N). The surface distorted the image as you tried to see if anyone would save you, but alas—you couldn’t even get yourself back up to the surface. 

A burst of bubbles caught your attention to the right, heart rate spiking. You blinked into the abyss looking for those massive eyes, the tentacles, the carnivorous predators. Something touched your foot beneath you, and you screamed, the sound lost a mere inch in front of you.

Another splash of bubbles got you as you threw your arms up, kicking your feet and praying what’d touched you had been your imagination. Please. A silent plea that burned your lungs. I don’t want to die. Although, it’d be fitting, wouldn’t it? You clawed at the water until your nails would’ve bled. You kicked until the current simply laughed in your face. A harsh swirl that tore you further down like an anchor chained to your ankle. 

Please. If your eyes weren’t burning from the salt water, you were sure you were crying. I don’t want to die. I don’t. 

A gulp of water entered your mouth when you begged for oxygen. The fear skyrocketed as a barrel fell into the sea, sinking just low enough to get caught in the edge of the current. It smacked against your arms as you tried to reach for it, but as it bounced back up, you were shoved down. Another breath of water sent death knocking on your door.

Colder. The water got colder.

Your body stopped moving as you replayed the only pivotal moment that mattered, your father’s words pressing for you to get on the boat without a fight. Do what must be done, or you are not truly my daughter. A shove from Hyatt as you boarded the ship while the crew stared, never once having royalty aboard their boat. But your father had needed the royal sailors for his voyage. It’s a three-day trip; see her there safe.

You felt a sickening smile as the world went blurry. Safe. If he only knew.

- ch two -

There was once, when you were younger, you got to see snow. A family “vacation” to visit some Duke. A business meeting your parents often tried to pretend wasn’t that. You’ll get to meet his children. They’ll show you around the estate. But the prospect of something other than the dead winter so known in your kingdom was what drove you to be one of the firsts inside the carriage that morning. 

But it’d been a long trip into the mountains; your father switched between talking with your mother about the necessary duties upon arrival and departure and discussing with the soldiers to maintain protocol. And, desperately, even as you tried to maintain some composure, the long, exhausting, impatient ride could only keep a child still for so long. The second the doors opened and you saw the snow, you were off. 

The snowy scape had been otherworldly. You’d known nothing that beautiful before and all you knew was that you had to touch it. See it. Taste it. Follow it to what other beauties it could produce.

They yelled your name, but there’d been a little white rabbit hopping through the forest outside of the mansion. It called to you as the snow did, beckoning you further as cold seeped through your fur-lined shawl. With only about ten years of knowledge then, you hadn’t known why, as you tripped and fell into the icy tundra, tumbling down a hill and out of sight, how dangerous the chill was. Only that when it turned warm and your eyes got heavy, something was wrong. 

The soldiers—a young, sixteen-year-old Hyatt with his superior—found you hours later. It’d felt like an eternity, a hurt arm that was the first to go numb in the snow and a spiraling warmth shooting over your skin. But when you felt like you were close to falling asleep beneath a warm blanket, they appeared at the top of the snowy cliff you’d fallen down. 

Hyatt carried you back to the mansion, wrapped in his coat, while his superior ran ahead. A fire was started in one of the living spaces where your mother and father stood. You barely heard the scolding from your father as you sat in front of the burning flames and given a cup of warm milk. Stay by the soldiers’ sides from now on. Do you understand me? You merely nodded so softly and politely, the tone pressing its way inside your head as you kept your eyes down. 

Demure. It felt stuffy. But still, you nodded.

That cold. That was different than the one violently permeating your bones. Were you shivering? Your vision going dark made bubbles around you move. Your arms wouldn’t reach, your legs wouldn’t kick. And that rumbling, vibrating every part of you, was it above or below? Was an eye about to open, or maybe some jaws aiming to end it quickly? The pressure pushed hard against your head, and that was all you could take as seawater went down your throat again.

The surface disappeared behind closed eyes. What would get you first–the Reaper or a hidden predator on the brink of starvation? 

Perhaps both.

Warmth.

Were you dead? Where there was warmth, as your father so woefully explained, there was death. In the cold, at least. Perhaps the Reaper had found you and tore you down to his level, your soul rising—rising? You tried to open your eyes, but all you were met with was pale contrasting the darkness. 

Had you been able to move, you would’ve done something other than peer up. There were arms wrapped around you, shoulders in front of you, the curve of a neck, hair that blended in with the sea, but those eyes. You blinked yours hard at the rushing movement. It made the pressure in your head dissipate far too quickly, and bile rose in your throat. But those eyes, outlined by sharp features, a mouth pressed into a fine line, spiky dark hair pushed back from the momentum; they were so bright they nearly glowed. Never had turquoise look so beautiful.

And when he dared to glance down, taking what felt like a dreamy moment before death and making you remember that your heart could still beat, he smiled. One of secrets. Of knowing. Of saving as you suddenly broke through the surface and the rain pelted your sore skin.

Your pulse ticked higher while those eyes stayed on you; the sudden gasp for oxygen became you barreling over, vomiting into the sea. Puke and mouth-drying seawater mixed into the darkness as your guts heaved, lungs burned, and throat tore with every hack. What the hell was going on? Who– Again, the world spun as the stranger moved, and your eyes widened as you tried not to vomit once more. 

He wasn’t from the crew, even delirious, you knew. Two days with them, you knew most of them. Not all by name, but you knew them. Their faces, their demeanor, their connection to your home. And this stranger…he moved you closer to the boat at a speed unfathomable to you, even on your best days in the water. 

You tried to speak, but as your vision grew blurry and your eyelids heavy, the pain in your throat became a blockage. 

Who are you?

“Don’t,” his cool voice murmured. It would’ve shocked you had there been any feeling left in your body. He spoke. “Save it for your real rescue party.”

For some reason, you did as he said. He held you closer, arms swallowed in areas of dark ink you couldn’t make out. Glinting jewelry that managed to shine through the storm clouds. Over his fingers which pressed firmly into you, on his nose in a little trio to create a triangle, and over his ears. And his entire upper body—bare. 

Had your guts not been twisting into a fine tornado and you stopped tasting the salty mix of your lunch on your tongue, you would’ve been scandalized. But as you were draped over that devilish barrel, the wood managing to bob in the water, you felt nothing but grateful as his hands slid down over your back, waist, hips. 

“Scream,” he whispered beneath the rain, and all you could do was glance back. Those otherworldly eyes were all that poked out of the water for a moment as he slinked back. He kept them locked on you, burning with an intensity you could barely understand. He popped up just enough to speak again. “I won’t save you again.”

His grin revealed sharp canines before he disappeared beneath the water. A beat, two, three of piercing rain dropped down around you. Then it surfaced. A sparkling tail of black scales, a mix of blues were dulled without sunlight, and a silver ring on one side of the arcing flipper. 

The silence roared in your ears as you stared at where he’d disappeared. Tail. But as you tried to call a thought, tried to piece together a puzzle so desperately right in front of you, you hacked up another breath of water. 

Tail.

A scream followed it as black started to dot your vision. The cold water froze your body stiff, and you clawed to stay on the barrel through another wave. It was broken and choppy, no way audible through the storm, but the boat was right there. You could almost touch it.

You screamed again.

Louder. 

Until you tasted something metallic in your mouth.

Hyatt, Thorne, Keigo. One of them had to be looking for you.

A splash in the water gathered your attention as you started to slip off of the barrel. Your nails ached as they pressed into the fine wood. Stay afloat. But as your body went limp, that water crept higher toward your mouth. Weakly, you screamed again.

This time, as a wave threw you off the barrel, it was met with two arms and two legs going out for you.

“Gotcha, Princess,” Keigo’s voice whispered in your ear. “You’re safe. I gotcha.”

A thick rope was tied around your waist and wrapped as skillfully as possible around your legs. A seat of sorts was created as Keigo swam you back toward the side of the boat, dragging you with your head never dipping back into the water. Those golden eyes were sharp first at the ship and then softer down at you. 

The world went dark as Keigo tugged on the slack of the rope and yelled upwards. His mouth was pulled away from your ear, yet his volume should’ve carried. How your scream was heard all the way up to them, you weren’t sure. Keigo’s was nearly drowned in the violent pitter-patter of the storm.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me, Princess.” 

His lean arms were strong as they gripped you. The rope went taut, and everything moved. But the world, as you blinked one last time, never returned to the gray-scaled color scheme the storm created. 

“Princess. Stay with me.”

There was sun. A cot. A blanket. A dress that reeked of sea, storm, and something clean. The ceiling looked familiar. The blinds on the window were cast open to shine the sun on your cheeks. Clouds shot across the sky in the opposite direction the whole room seemed to lurch toward. 

A wrap of gause went around your right forearm. 

One blink. Two. Three. Four. Pain throughout your whole body burned as you sat up, a thin blanket falling from your upper body. Dress. It was dry. The thin material bunched up and wrinkled in places that pressed the same patterns into your skin. Storm. You tried for a long breath and were met with the same burning sensation in your throat. Overboard. Sea. Drowning. 

Outside, there was commotion. Some yelling, hollering, excitement. Orders were shouted. The captain, some burly guy whose name was out of reach, yelled to slow. Again, the boat lurched. 

“Oh, finally, Princess.” Hyatt’s voice came through from the corner. Thorne was asleep next to him, both in a change of clothes, their weapons discarded. Worry pressed into Hyatt’s tanned and peeling skin. “Are you okay?”

Turquoise. You stared at Hyatt’s rich green eyes and turned back toward the window. Anchor was dropped as you coughed, hacking up something sweet in the back of your mouth. Your fists tried to rub sleep from your eyes, but it barely helped. Yawning only accentuated the pain in your throat. 

“The medic gave you some medicine to assist you in sleeping. I think the bastard misjudged the amount.” Hyatt nudged Thorne’s foot. “Wake up, idiot.”

You coughed again, eyes stuck on the window. The cold of the water stayed with you in a shiver, the smell clinging to your dress and seeping through your skin. Thorne said something half-asleep and under his breath. Are we there? Your gaze, stuck outside, watching the sky grow into an island. A castle that stretched larger than your father’s. A town filled with buildings of every color of the rainbow. A spread of docks with ships docked within and a harbor waiting for new arrivals to shop and sell.

A tail.

“Yeah,” you croaked, the word tearing at your throat. 

A sense of purpose and dread coursed through you as the boat came to a halt. 

“We’re here.”

Coriolanus snow x fem!reader

She is sejanus’s twin sister and is just as anti hunger games as he is and Coriolanus always has a crush on her but since she is his best friends sister…😏

The Plinth Prize | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!Plinth!reader, Sejanus Plinth x twin sister!reader

Summary: You were everything he detested, perhaps that's what made him fall.

Warning/s: fluff, Coriolanus having some possessive thoughts, him actually liking Sejanus in this, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: This one is really short, but I do believe that it's sweet enough. This for sure is not my best work, but I tried.

The Plinth family.

Truly everything had changed once Strabo, Sejanus, his twin sister (Y/N) and Mrs. Plinth who called "Ma" known as the Plinth family arrived in the Capitol. Well, more like bought your way to the Capitol.

Coriolanus Snow knew that anybody in their right mind would know that they bought their way in the Capitol because he knew that you really have to have a lot, and I mean A LOT, of money to come and live from the District 2 in the Capitol and give your two children an opportunity to attend to the Capitol's Academy of all places.

So Coriolanus must admit to himself, at first he was sceptic as hell. They were from District after all. They had no place here.

But he should've known better than to judge a book by its cover.

The Plinth twins were really something else.

The moment he met Sejanus he thought that he was annoying as hell. However, he soon realized that Sejanus kind of grew on him.

He was a kid with a kind heart, there was no denying that. He was stubborn, too. But most of all, he was so against the government's decision to hold the Hunger Games and that would annoy the hell out of Coriolanus because Sejanus had a bad tendency to speak of it out loud, with no filter, and that would often get him in a bit trouble.

The trouble that Coriolanus would often have to help him get out of. Coriolanus didn't really mind it, Sejanus was like his brother after all, but he just wished that he would stop being so reckless.

Coriolanus truly felt like he could have a heart attack, cold sweat consumed him, every single time Sejanus spoke. It honestly left him feeling anxious.

He just wished for that to stop, and once he met you it was anything but.

The moment you two shook hands after Sejanus introduced Coriolanus to his twin sister, you, he felt like the last breath was knocked out of his lungs. His chest tightened as he looked at you.

You were radiant. He thought that your beauty was unmatched. The way you carried yourself, your hair, your piercing eyes that were the exact copy of your brother, your smile, your everything, it was just perfect for him.

You were perfect for him.

From that day on he couldn't stop thinking about you and one day in class was an opportunity for him to see even more of you.

As Dr. Gaul talked about the genius of the Hunger Games, Sejanus and you snapped.

In a way he was surprised (but than again, not really) as he watched your interaction and realized that you were as much anti-games as Sejanus was.

Great.

Just great.

Now he had to look out after one more wild Plinth child. Not that he minded. He knew it shouldn't be that way, but this personality trait made you even more attractive than he thought it was possible.

As he watched you talk, his piercing blue eyes locked onto your figure watching you talk passionately, he realized that even though you're from District, that you were anti-games, and even though you were a Plinth of all people, he fell in love with you.

There was no denying that.

Perhaps, if he somehow couldn't win the Plinth Prize you would be good enough to keep, maybe even better. His, better, version of the Plinth Prize.

God, the Plinth twins are really going to ruin him.

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