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1800-fight-me · 6 months

Text

Dark Devotion

Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: E (Explicit) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Once again, gothic horror romance vibes. The monster gets the girl. Fear, horror, and explicit PiV sex. Slightly non-con as Aemond compels reader, but reader definitely consents (you'll understand when you read it).

Word count: About 5.2k

Synopsis: Running from your old life somehow leads you directly into the arms of a monster, one that shows you pleasures you never could've dreamed of.

Author’s note: I know I have been completely MIA and inconsistent but tbh my life has been incredibly stresseful and I lost all motivation to write for a while. This is the first thing I've written in months that I am genuinely proud of. I even made a whole ass moodboard for it! I truly hope y'all enjoy. Happy Halloween! P.S. Comments will make my entire day and earn you a kiss on the forehead!

I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

There was a phrase you heard quite a few times in your village as a little girl, ‘the night is dark and full of terrors’. Your mum would always roll her eyes and mumble something about ‘religious fanatics’. You were always inclined to agree with her, that is until this night.

This night truly was dark and full of terrors.

Thunder cracked loud enough that your ears rang as rain poured something awful. The harsh droplets pelted at your skin and the sky split in half as a lightning bolt landed merely a stone’s throw before you.

Your horse neighed in panic loud enough that you could hear him over the bellowing wind as he reared back on his hind legs, causing you to slip and fall off and land directly on your backside in the mud.

You gasped in shock and did not even have time to call out before your horse bolted away, leaving you drenched and muddy on the forest floor.

Instead of crying you merely turned your head up towards the sky, embraced the pain of the harsh rain against your cheeks, and screamed at the heavens in frustration.

You managed to pull yourself up before the mud sucked you in below the surface of the world, adjusted the hood of your cloak once again over your head, and trudged forward.

Your boots sloshed through the dampened forest floor and you thought that perhaps the naysayers in your village were right. Maybe the gods were punishing you for your promiscuity.

When you laid with the soldier passing through your village and allowed him to take your maidenhood, you were convinced there would be no consequences.

You were no one, nothing, and not having your maidenhood intact changed nothing other than the subject the gossipers in town clucked about.

It seemed it also changed the gods’ vengeance towards you.

This night was dark and full of terrors, that much you could sense as fear shot down your spine.

You increased your pace, fearing the creatures that could be lurking in the woods, desperate for some sort of shelter. The feeling of eyes watching you from time to time during your journey became steady and unceasing. You felt uneasy, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight up, and you knew it had nothing to do with the cold in the air.

Eventually you had no other choice but to ignore the feeling, having looked behind and around you dozens of times in search of your stalker to no avail.

You trudged along for what felt like hours, not once finding anything that could serve as a temporary shelter. That was, until you somehow stumbled upon a near debilitated castle.

As it came into view, you shuddered at the feeling the crumbling building invoked in you, but any shelter was better than none at this point.

Stone walls with vines nearly overtaking them towered over you as you rushed forward towards the large wooden doors. You looked up and thought you saw a pair of gemstone blue eyes glowing in the dark from a window at the top of the tower, but you blinked and they were gone.

You shook your head, sure your tired eyes were playing tricks on you, and reached for the handle of the door.

You took a shuddering breath and pulled the heavy door open. Shock filled your very being as you were overcome with warmth and light.

While the outside of the building was shabby, the inside was magnificent. It was well kept and well lit. A home fit for a king, with a grand staircase was directly in front of you and an elderly man in a servant’s outfit was walking down it.

“Young lady! Who are you and how dare you come into this home uninvited?” the man chided as he descended the last of the steps and stood before you.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t know anyone lived here, I was merely searching for shelter from the awful storm,” you said, eyes wide- portraying how stunned you felt.

The man’s stern facade crumbled and he smiled warmly at you, you let go of your held breath and managed a small smile back at him.

“Ah, yes, I tend to forget the master’s illusion on the outside of the building. He does it to keep the unwanted away,” he said.

“Illusion? Like magic?” you asked.

“Well, yes, of course. Come in, let’s get you out of the cold. You must be miserable,” the man said as he ushered you inside and closed the door behind you.

“Alfred,” you heard the voice of a man call out from another room. His voice caused a shiver to go down your spine.

“Yes, sire,” Alfred, the man before you replied, and the man with the shiver-inducing voice came into view as he rounded the corner and came into the entryway where you stood.

Your breath caught once again as you saw the most striking and beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life.

He was tall, nearly impossibly so, with long silver hair that fell nearly to his waist. He moved with the grace and control of a lethal killer. His facial features were sharp, as if he was cut from marble. His skin of pale white only emphasized his most distinct feature, an eye of sapphire that covered part of a scar that cut across his forehead and cheek. His remaining true eye was also a distinct blue color, nearly matching the sapphire one perfectly.

Ethereal was the word that arose in your mind as he strode towards you, amusement twinkling in his eye as he took you in.

“And who might you be, lovely?” he asked.

After entirely too long of a pause, in which his amusement appeared to only grow as his beautiful lips curved into a smirk, you managed to stutter out your name.

He repeated it back to you, leaning closer towards you, and your heartbeat sped into a gallop. He titled his head, almost as if he could hear it. You dismissed the thought, deeming it absurd.

“My name is Aemond. Welcome to my home. Tell me, how exactly did you manage to find your way here?” he asked curiously.

You leaned in closer with him, not realizing that your face was merely inches from his at this point, utterly drawn in and intoxicated by his presence.

You were filled with a desire to please him and as a result you began rambling. “I was attempting to move away from my village. Take off and find a new life, but then there was a series of unfortunate events including running for my life, becoming irretrievably lost, and then becoming something I’m certain looks similar to a drowned rat after my horse was startled by the storm and I stumbled around for hours attempting to find shelter.”

“Oh you poor sweet thing. Let us take care of you,” he purred and rather than set you at ease, something in the words made you feel as if your misadventures were far from over. And yet, you were entranced by his gaze and could not so much as force yourself to look away or take a step back.

His smile grew wider as you nodded meekly.

Finally, Aemond released you from his gaze as he turned to Alfred and asked him to fetch the maid Portia to assist you in cleaning yourself up.

Before you knew it, you were being ushered up the stairs and into a room you could only assume was a guest room by an elderly woman with a sweet round face.

She helped you to remove your muddy sodden clothes and you groaned in relief as you slid into a warm bath. You smiled warmly at her as you scrubbed your body and she cleaned your hair, all the while chattering to you about her love for her husband Alfred and their happiness working for Master Aemond.

“Can you tell me about him?” you asked curiously as she helped you to dress.

The dress she helped you into was of crushed velvet, sapphire blue like the gemstone in Aemond’s eye that had so caught your attention. The dress had a corset and plunging neckline that emphasized your curves.

Portia hummed as she led you to sit down and began working on your hair.

“He is a bit odd, yes. Intimidating and perhaps even scary to some, but he has a good heart. And is loyal and protective to those he cares for. He has treated my husband and I very kindly,” she said with a caring smile.

Her words put your heart more at ease, still slightly worried about the new surprising circumstances you had found yourself in.

“Does he typically extend that same kindness to visitors?” you asked, nervousness coloring your tone a bit.

“It depends on the intentions of the visitor. A sweet thing like you? You’ll be well taken care of,” she said.

“Does he often have ill-intentioned visitors?” you asked curiously.

“It does happen from time to time, those in the nearest village hold hate for him in their hearts. Old prejudices I suppose, but no matter!” she said, changing the subject and her tone as she turned you around to view yourself in the floor length mirror.

“Take a look at yourself, my dear. You look stunning, see? All the horror of the day washed completely away,” she said soothingly as she ran her hands up and down your upper arms.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw yourself. She was right, you’d never seen yourself look so beautiful before. You actually looked fit to reside in such a lovely home, unlike before, unlike any other time in your life. You’d never worn such a beautiful and expensive dress. You ran your hands across the soft fabric, up your torso and thought that it was the perfect inviting dress for someone else to touch you in.

Images flashed in your head of the soldier you allowed to touch you, never while you wore something so pretty, but pleasurable nonetheless. Romps in the hay, literally as the two of you would often meet in your father’s barn and he taught you the art of a pleasure you’d never known before.

You were not disillusioned about it, you knew there was no love between the two of you. You knew he would one day have to move on without you, but when he left town just as others found out about your affair, you were frustrated at being left alone with the consequences of a choice the both of you made.

The townspeople, the people you grew up with, turned on you and called you a whore. Even your own father fell victim to their hateful whispers about you and kicked you out of his home. Only your mother helped you, sneaking you out in the dead of night and gifting you her horse to aid you on your journey into another life.

You shook your head slightly in an attempt to clear those thoughts, the memories of both pleasure and pain, and smiled at your reflection.

“Thank you, Portia, your efforts are greatly appreciated,” you said as you turned and embraced her in a warm hug.

She squeezed you before releasing you and leading you out of the guest room and back down the grand staircase.

You followed her into an elegant dining room, a fireplace lit - the fire crackling and warming the spacious room. The table was large enough to seat ten people, but only two place settings were set next to one another, somehow creating an intimate dinner even in such a large room.

Aemond sat at the end of the table, and stood as he saw you.

“Good evening, you look magnificent,” he said, voice as velvety as your dress.

You did your best to hide how his words flustered you as you smiled softly and curtseyed.

“Thank you, sire. But, this is too much. I did not mean to interrupt your your evening so and I-I’ll never be able to repay you-”

He reached a hand out and you placed your hand in his. At the brush of your skin against his, your words fell off.

His hands were cold, and yet- the mere brush of his fingers against yours filled your body with heat.

“There is no repayment necessary, the pleasure of your company will be more than enough if you would please dine with me,” he said.

“Of course,” you breathed out as you allowed him to guide you to your seat.

Your nose was filled with the aroma of a hearty stew in a bowl before you and your stomach growled in anticipation.

You gave Aemond a sheepish look even as he chuckled.

“Eat, of course. You must be near ravenous. I’m familiar with the feeling,” he said, and his voice dipped lower. His eyes appeared to flash at his words, causing your heartbeat to jump, but you were far too hungry to think about it and played it off as a trick of the light, a reflection of the fire in his gemstone eye.

You tucked in and struggled to hold in your groan of satisfaction at the taste of the soup.

Aemond poured you both glasses of red wine and you thanked him as he handed you yours.

“Are you not going to eat?” you asked him, suddenly feeling self conscious that you were shoveling mouthfuls of stew and bread into your mouth while he merely sipped on his wine and watched you.

“Oh I intend to. Just not right now, I had what you might call a late afternoon snack,” he said and something about his words had a chill run up your spine, despite the warmth of both the room and the soup in your belly.

“You told me of your journey here, but tell me about yourself. I find myself fascinated by the entirety of you,” he practically purred, and you immediately forgot your apprehension at his previous words.

“I feel the same way about you,” you replied breathily.

He smiled, a full glorious smile that made you feel as if the storm had ended and the sun had come out. But there was a glint, a sharpness, and with a start you realized his canine teeth were elongated.

He must have seen the fear in your eyes as he reached over and grasped your hand gently. You felt that on fire feeling in your skin once again, but also felt all the fear wash out of your body.

“Tell me about you,” he requested again, voice soft and low, a tone that caused you to wonder if that was how he spoke to his lovers late at night.

You were filled with compliance, with a desire to please him, and so you did as you were asked, and told him everything about yourself. You told him of your childhood, your parents, your likes and interests, your dreams for a better life.

He watched you with rapt attention, murmuring questions to prompt you to further share with him about yourself. And, oh gods, when he looked at you that way, his sapphire gaze so intense, you wanted to share yourself completely.

“What had you so desperately searching for a new life?” he finally asked.

So you explained, shamefully, how you laid with a man and became the village whore for merely choosing your own pleasure over mediocrity for once in your life.

You looked down at your empty bowl, toying with the spoon, while you waited for his reaction, for his disgust and dismissal of you.

Long cold fingers gently grasped your chin and lifted your head up to meet his gaze.

You were enraptured by his undivided attention.

“There’s no need to listen to the opinions of small minded individuals. Pleasure is nothing to feel guilty about. Especially when there are so, so many pleasures in life to discover,” he said and the soft lilt of his voice along with the dark tone made your toes curl.

You wanted to experience unknown pleasures, you wanted him to teach you, to explore with you.

You bit your lip, nodding slightly in agreement, and his hand slid up from your chin to curl around your jaw. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and you shivered.

He pulled your bottom lip from between your teeth and you waited, nearly shaking with anticipation, for him to press his lips against your own, to replace the pressure with some of his own, and he smirked as if he knew what you were thinking, but pulled back.

He sat back in his chair, far enough from you that you no longer felt intoxicated by his scent and presence, and you let out a soft breath of disappointment.

Amusement and desire both seemed to dance in his gaze. You took a sip of wine, looking away from him to clear your head, and took a breath to steady yourself.

“Will you tell me about yourself as well, sire?” you asked.

“Aemond,” he corrected. “Please call me Aemond, sweet one.”

“Aemond, I’d love to hear about you,” you requested once more.

It seemed he had the same response to hearing his name drip from your lips as you had when he said yours, for his eyelid fluttered closed and his hand clenched into a fist, but the next breath he had composed himself once more and nodded.

“My life… it feels as if it has been an eternity. A lonely one at that,” he said and this time you reached over and took his hand, holding it in support.

“I was treated as if I were unwanted from the moment I was born, my eye taken hatefully when I was merely a boy, and then as a man I was deemed a monster. I was driven out of my home, my family did naught to protect me, and it took me far too long to find a place to call my own. Still, others that encounter me call me a monster and I find myself alone most of the time,” he explained and your heart hurt for him.

“Why do others call you a monster? Your gemstone eye?” you asked as you leaned closer to him once again.

This time you leaned in and placed your hand on his face, tracing the length of his scar with your thumb as you gently held his cheek.

“Hmmm,” he hummed in a noncommittal sort of agreement.

“I think it’s beautiful,” you said, your voice so soft it was practically a whisper.

It was evident he heard you as he practically nuzzled his face into your hand. He gripped your wrist and ran his nose from the palm of your hand to the inside of your wrist, breathing in deeply.

His actions, though gentle and loving, caused an inexplicable feeling of fear to drip down your spine, particularly when his lips pressed against your skin. You’d never realized what a vulnerable place in the body the wrist was, a bundle of veins, until Aemond pressed his perfectly curved lips against it.

But as soon as it came, the fear was gone as Aemond looked up at you and you met his gaze once more.

You reached out and pushed his silver hair out of his face where it had fallen and tucked it behind his ear.

His long gorgeous hair was so soft you yearned to run your fingers through it and learn of his response, learn of the noises he would make when in pleasure.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, appearing as entranced by you as you were by him.

You could do nothing to hide the way his words flustered you, as the weight of his attention had you pinned down and unable to move.

He caught your hand and held it in place against his hair.

As he leaned closer to you, his movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator trying not to spook his prey.

Your heart began to sprint and you were certain you would never be able to slow it again.

His sharp nose brushed against yours, and the anticipation was so strong you forgot how to breathe.

Aemond hummed softly before he finally, finally pressed his lips to yours.

As his lips moved against yours you felt inherently changed, different. It felt as if a shadowed hand with sharp talons dripping with blood had reached through your chest and gripped your heart and claimed it.

You were his, his, and you were prepared to swear to him your utter devotion, your life. You didn’t quite understand what you were experiencing, but you didn’t care as he deepened the kiss. As he claimed your mouth you gasped, letting out a small whimper. This gave him the in he needed to slide his tongue against yours.

You shuddered, gripping his hair tighter as he lifted you with an ease that should not be possible and sat you atop his lap.

Your dress prevented you from straddling him like you wished, but you could not complain as he gripped your waist tightly. You ran your hands from his face and his hair to his shoulders, down to his arms, gripping him tightly and kissing him deeply, with everything you had, with utter devotion.

You let out a small yelp of surprise as your tongue explored his mouth and brushed against something entirely too sharp.

He tore his lips from yours and met your gaze. Your chest brushed against his as it heaved while you attempted to catch your breath.

Fangs, you recognized. Those were fangs in his mouth, made for sinking his teeth in.

You could not discern how you felt, what you thought, for the utter fire for him burned through you.

He traced your jaw, then the line of your neck down to your collarbone, slowly, achingly slowly as you wanted nothing more than for him to kiss you again. Then, his lips followed the same journey his fingers had just taken. You shivered, your head falling back as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Tell me you are mine,” Aemond ordered, and his breath against the sensitive skin of your neck made you shiver.

“I’m yours,” you replied breathily and you could feel his smile against your throat.

“Tell me you want me,” he ordered.

“I want you,” you whined, and his grip on you tightened nearly to the point of pain, but you could not focus on that. No, not when you felt those fangs graze against that most sensitive spot on your neck.

The night is dark and full of terrors, the words rang through your head once more and your breath stopped as you realized you had fallen into this beautiful monster’s trap. Fear shot down your spine and made your body tense and freeze.

“Hmm,” he hummed in reassurance as he pressed a kiss against your vulnerability.

Your body responded immediately, you relaxed completely, becoming nearly ragdoll like in his arms. He lifted you, holding you as he stood, and walked into the next room, a sitting room of sorts, and laid you on a chaise.

“Aemond,” you breathed out.

He kneeled next to where you laid.

“I care for you,” he said as he brushed a hand across your cheek, “I don’t wish to compel you.”

He kissed you once more. At the feeling of his lips against yours, you were reborn. You had control over your body once again and you yanked him atop of you, deepening the kiss.

He groaned into your mouth, and pulled back slightly, causing you to whine in protest.

“You truly want me?” he asked, his tone sounding surprised.

Your survival instinct had long since gone quiet as a result of you continuously ignoring its protests.

“Yes,” you said and pulled his lips to yours again.

“Perhaps we can make a deal then,” he said, trailing his lips down once more to his favorite spot on your neck, where your veins were most vulnerable.

“If you give me what I want, I will reward you with everything you desire and more,” he said and you again felt the sharpness of those fangs.

You let out a shuddering breath.

“Yes,” you agreed, all logic disappearing as desire overtook your very being.

And you knew. You knew and he knew, that his compelling magic was gone, the desire you felt for him this entire time was real and true, not due to compelling whatsoever. There was something more, something deeper at play here, and your choice was your own as you chose him, completely.

And with that, he groaned lowly and sank his fangs into your neck.

Sharp indescribable pain is what you expected but instead it was like a dull buzz of pain nearly overwhelmed by pleasure.

He ran his hands down your body, ensuring he paid special attention to your breasts and you gasped his name.

Aemond’s hand slipped up your dress, inching up your burning hot skin, and finding the wetness between your legs that awaited him.

You whimpered softly as he brushed your panties aside and finally touched you where you wanted him the most.

His nimble fingers spread your slick and quickly found a rhythm circling your bundle of nerves as he continued to drink your blood.

As the heat inside you built, he pulled his teeth from your neck and slowly dragged his tongue up your neck, licking up every last drop of blood from your skin. His fingers moved in perfect time with his tongue, and with no notice your release hit you, overwhelming you completely as you moaned loud enough to echo through the room.

“Absolutely exquisite,” he said as he pulled back from your neck and looked deep into your eyes.

He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and you stared at him as your chest heaved, absolutely entranced. He then replaced his thumb with his bloodsoaked lips.

He groaned as you kissed him eagerly, your blood in his mouth not causing any hesitation whatsoever.

“I need you,” you gasped.

“I have needed you for an eternity,” he replied as he began untying the corset of your dress.

You moaned as the cool air hit your skin and he slowly and gently removed the beautiful dress from your body, leaving you completely bare. You turned and looked at the pile of sapphire velvet on the floor.

He gripped your chin, turning your head to look at him once more. You helped him to remove his shirt, and then watched eagerly as he unbuckled his belt, beginning to make himself just as bare as you.

“I must admit something to you,” he said and your mouth ran dry as the hard length of him sprung free.

“Yes,” you asked breathlessly as you reached and wrapped your hand around him.

He let out a sound low in his throat, something similar to a growl, as you began to move your hand up and down his length.

“It is not happenstance that you found yourself in my home. I must confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I needed you. I needed to taste you, to make you mine. I influenced your journey here, guided you, so I could finally show you my devotion,” he said.

“Then make me yours, completely,” you pleaded and guided his length to line up with your wet heat.

With a groan he nodded his head and pushed himself inside you.

He filled you, inch by glorious inch, and you could do nothing but gasp for air as you felt fuller than you’d ever felt in your life.

You reveled in the press of your naked chest against his, as you pulled him close enough that you couldn’t tell where your body ended and where his began.

You were one with the vampire atop you, and you’d never felt more intense pleasure in your life.

When he was certain you were ready, he kissed you, surprisingly tenderly, before he pulled out nearly all the way, and pushed back inside you, sinking to the hilt.

His tempo was slow and deep, as he gazed deep in your eyes and told you how beautiful he found you.

“Perfect, so perfect,” he praised as you mewled for him when he tilted your hips up and hit a spot of pleasure inside you that had never been found before.

Aemond continued his pace, holding you tight, as your nails dug into his back.

“Come for me, darling, I can feel how close you are,” he purred in your ear.

He slipped his hand between your bodies and found your bundle of nerves once more, stroking it and you nearly screamed as your release wracked through you.

You felt you had reached heaven, somehow, in the arms of your ethereally beautiful monster lover and it took you several moments to come back down.

So lost in your pleasure, you had not even felt a sting of pain as he sunk his teeth into your wrist. He gulped your blood, moaning in pleasure, as he continued to pump himself in and out of your tight wet heat, chasing his own release.

You tangled your other hand in his hair, and gripped tighter around his cock, urging him on, encouraging both his release and for him to continue to drink from you.

He groaned as his release found him, sinking deep inside you, bringing ecstasy to you both.

You shuddered a breath as his movements slowed and stopped. He pulled his teeth from your wrist, and murmured your name, like a praise- like a prayer, with utter devotion.

As he looked at you, you reached up and wiped your blood from where it had dripped down his chin.

He brought your wrist to his lips once more, and before you could protest that you were beginning to feel lightheaded, he surprised you by licking the wound clean instead of sinking his teeth back in, just as he had with the wound on your neck.

You watched in fascination, as his saliva magically closed your wound, leaving only a small scar.

He looked up and grinned at you, your blood coating his teeth, and you whimpered and pulled him into another kiss.

He kissed you languidly, tongue moving against yours, as if he had all of eternity with you.

“I have never tasted anything so divine,” he purred against your lips.

“I have never felt so wonderful in all my life,” you said back as you pulled back enough to look upon him once again.

“I can feel it. Can you feel it? You are to be my eternity, my everlasting, my one true mate. I give you my utter devotion. You said you wanted to start a new life. Start it with me. Let me turn you and we can be together forever. Stay with me,” he pleaded.

And so you did.

Yes, this night was dark and full of terrors, but this terror had wrapped himself around you, sunk deep inside you, and devoted his entire being to you, offering you pleasure and love unlike any you’d ever experienced before.

And so, later, when Aemond fed you his blood and turned you and you opened your eyes into this new life, becoming a terror yourself, you grinned and kissed your vampire mate, prepared to spend forever by his side.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #hotd

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partycatty · 3 months

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Omg youre feeding me!!!! I've been obsessed with Johnny Cage too and your blog is like an oasis, THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!! Also... would you mind writting some fluff/angst of johnny cage and reader? Like you trained with him in the wu shi academy and he always treated you like, a bit colder and distant than the way he treats the other 3 earthrealm champions. But thats atually not because he hates you but he likes you??? And he doesnt know how to express himself so he prefers to stay away, part because the reader is an amazing sorcerer under and is very battle-smart. But also the reader being like EXTREMELY SHY and introverted but very kind and reliable to the point that like all the guys from the earthrealm gangs make excuses just to spend time with the reader because they like them that much...

I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRYYYYYYYYYYY I WAS CARRIED AWAY I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG BUT NOT AS MUCH AS I LOVE JOHNNY CAGE BYEE SORRYYYY AGAIN

NO YOURE SO FINE DONT APOLOGIZE MWAH THANK YOU

johnny cage > envy

johnny can't find the words to describe how he feels around the new recruit, so he decides to say... nothing.

warnings: sad :(, ooc johnny? idk he's insecure

notes: reader is an outworld native sorcerer that lives in earthrealm. also, pretend that outworld natives can fight for earthrealm in the tournament LOL

masterlist <3

• you owed liu kang a favor after prior personal matters, so here he was asking for your strength at the wu shi academy. of course, you agreed. you may be an outworld native, but earthrealm was something to truly fight for. you considered yourself a lesser protector, one call away from fighting if necessary.

• you were highly respected in the field. liu kang knew that your powers were unmatched, probably matching titan shang tsung, and you still chose the good side. liu kang silently thanks himself and fate for keeping you on the side of justice. the lin kuei brothers also know you're on their side. as a secondary protector, you were acutely familiar with their styles and dynamics. in short, you were exactly what earthrealm needed.

• you didn't necessarily need training, but considering you were a contender for the title of champion, it was only smart to hone your skills.

• the boys warmed up to you very quickly; any friend of liu kang is a friend of theirs! kung lao had endless questions that easily flustered you, raiden found your sparring inspiring, and kenshi enjoyed your late night deep chats. the only one missing from the adoration was... johnny cage.

•it was... strange. you'd seen his movies, his public appearances. he was always a smiling, flirting ball of charm. you wondered if perhaps his recent divorce and failure in films contributed to his sour mood.

• but even so, he was still a charming devil around the others! references up the wazoo, loads of banter and he always had something to add to a conversation. it's just that, when you'd contribute something, his smile would fade while others laughed.

• it started with a king of the hill sparring to gauge everyone's skills at first. liu kang said the champion at the end of training would be selected the same way.

• "(reader), you are first," liu kang gestures to you with a smile. "please step forward."

• "cull the weak first," johnny smugly chimes in, hands on his hips. his smirk faded when liu kang said he would be first up as well. you, thankfully, were humble amidst your shyness. even so, you could kick major ass. johnny was knocked to the ground in only a few seconds.

• words were... hard for you. so instead, you extended a hand to johnny who was laying on his back against the cold stone. you smiled warmly and nodded, silently congratulating his efforts and genuinely enjoying the fight. sitting up, johnny let out a deep sigh with furrowed brows, and sat up on his own. he completely rejected your kindness, and for what? even the monks were taken aback by this.

• and again, since that day, johnny's just been incredibly cold toward you. spars after that day were increasingly more challenging. johnny's punches felt more... targeted. his anger was coming out in bursts, and it wasn't healthy. he gets borderline childish when he loses.

• "this can't be fair! you've got magic at your fingertips," he'd groan as he's knocked on his ass for the thousandth time. his skin was bruising from the repeated blows, and you weren't even being rough. "i've just got... fists. can you turn it off for one goddamn round?"

• "this... could be a learning experience?" you ask sheepishly, standing - one again - over johnny.

• "just forget it," he grumbles before walking off, rolling his shoulder. "showoff."

• completely stumped for an explanation, you ended up confiding in the man you grew closest to since beginning training: raiden. he was similar to you in many ways. shy, sweet, and endlessly humble. too humble, actually, to the point of not fully understanding your own strength. in a way, he reminded you of liu kang.

• "i don't understand, raiden. was it something i said? perhaps i'm not as aware of earthrealm culture as i thought i was?" you ask, perplexed.

• "have you considering asking him about it?" raiden replies with a frown. "he seems fine with the rest of us. it's only you he shows hesitation toward."

• he's right. you didn't once consider to actually... ask him. it just sounded like such a foreign concept, to confront someone. the thought made your skin crawl, but you were far more unsettled with johnny's behavior. you had to know.

• so, at the next meal time, you make it a clear effort to sit beside johnny, blocking him off from the rest of the guys. raiden gave you a shy thumbs up before you turned to face the star.

• "mr. cage," you spoke quietly so as to not disturb the others.

• "johnny," he coldly corrects you, eyes fixated on his plate.

• "johnny..." you're already flustered, but you try to swallow it deep down to keep control of the situation. "i'd... i'd like to talk with you, if that's alright."

• johnny's eyes lift to meet yours, but he seems upset. he leans forward to view the other boys and shakes his head.

• "no," he mumbles. "later. after training."

• the conversation stops dead in its tracks as johnny abruptly stands and relocates himself to the other side of the table. you're left dumbfounded as how blunt he is. raiden locks eyes with you again and just shrugs.

• training passes by slower than usual, probably because you're anticipating the conversation. that, and johnny won't stop staring at you every chance he gets. even across the training grounds, you find him staring with a completely blank face. he's cooking something up in his head, you just know it. lord knows what it'd be, though.

• night falls, and you weren't sure where or when to find johnny. as you shrug off the heavy robe and leave yourself in your skin-tight underclothes, you hear a gentle knock in the doorway.

• you spin around, face immediately flushed at the idea of being seen. instinctively, you launched a ball of energy toward the figure, but he dodged just in time.

• "good lord—!" johnny shouts out, slapping a hand on the top of his head to make sure his hair wasn't fried off. "remind me not to sneak up on you."

• "what are you doing in my room?" you ask, blushing deeply as you hug yourself to hide your curves. johnny scoffs and puts his arms up in disbelief, like you're dumb for asking.

• "you're the one that wanted to talk to me," he points in an accusatory way. once your shock wears off, you plop down on your cot with an embarrassed frown. he steps closer, standing above you. it wasn't until now that you realize his physique is incredibly intimidating. and kindaaaaa......

• you tense up, realizing your thoughts are wandering when he's literally right in front of you.

• "well come on. i haven't got all day, fancy pants," johnny jabs at your powers with a sour tone. something about his attitude makes your shyness completely vanish for a moment.

• "why do you speak to me like that?" you inquire bluntly, starting to raise your voice. "i don't understand. was it something i did? said? you've been nothing but cruel to me since i arrived. we're on the same side, johnny. help me understand why you hate me."

• johnny freezes completely, his eyes widening. his once crossed arms tense up before falling to his sides. he lets out a deep sigh.

• "i don't... hate you."

• "so you heavily dislike me."

• "no."

• "then what is it?!"

• "i-i don't know!"

• johnny rakes his fingers through his hair with a frustrated groan.

• "it's like... i want to hate you. i want to hate you so bad, (reader). but i can't. you're just so smart and perfect and... and wildly attractive... but a part of me wants to just—" he holds his hands out in a strangling motion as he rambles. when the thought finally clicks in his head, he sits on the ground, up against the wall opposite you. "i want to hate you because you're everything i could never be. you've got all these fancy powers. the guys love you. i'm just some washed up, divorced, broke—"

• you stand up and make your way to him, crouching down in front of him. your cheeks feel warm at the subtle confession of attraction, but your primary focus at the moment was reassurance.

• "none of those things define you," you say calmly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "for what it's worth, i think you're an incredible fighter. you do your own stunts. you stand up for what you believe in. that is admirable. you're quite funny, too."

• he looks down at you with a weak smile. he seems internally defeated, but outwardly flattered.

• "you're too kind," he chuckles breathlessly, looking around. "god i... i'm sorry to fall apart like that. please don't tell anyone you witnessed that."

• "i won't," you promise, returning with laughter yourself. suddenly, your mind calls back to his confession, and a smile tugs hard at your lips. your face burns. "did you say i'm 'wildly attractive?'"

• "yes! god!" johnny is now giggling, waving his hands at you. "have you looked at yourself? drives me crazy just sittin' here with you!"

• you let out a whimper and cover your face, burning hot. you try to protest in a muffled tone, but johnny just grabs your hands and holds them in his. he smiles warmly, the first real smile he's given you.

• "you're hard to hate, you know. you're just so damn cute when you're flustered. it's so easy to rile you up, isn't it?"

• you wiggle, flustered. you can only yelp out his name as you wordlessly beg him to stop the teasing. tragically, you opened the flood gates. he wasn't afraid of you anymore.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader

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airbendertendou · 1 year

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lonely heart ♡ danny johnson

soulmate au where the first time you have skin to skin contact, your body glows & is stamped w their handprint - it looks like a birthmark.

cw ; typical dbd warnings [blood n gore] ; reader offers ghostie a nude pic in exchange for freedom ; might b ooc but idc <3 ; how danny looks is up to you!

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♡——

The heat of the campfire brushes against your face, warming your skin just enough to forget the biting wind. Nancy is beside you, falling asleep where she sits, nodding her head forward before she snaps out of it. Across the fire, Feng is chatting idly with Dwight and Steve, Leon chiming in when he felt like it.

The bench-like-log you’re sitting on shifts as Nea takes a seat, letting out a huff as she settles. “It’s been quiet recently,” she says, “too quiet if you ask me.”

“I’m a little wary,” you agree. Your eyes scope the woods surrounding the survivors as if someone is going to pop out any second. They wouldn’t, though — the killers kept away from the light of the fire and never wandered any closer than they were allowed. “I wonder if something’s happened.”

Nea rolls her eyes, “we wouldn’t be so lucky.”

You grin at her pessimism, shoving her lightly with your left shoulder. Nea snickers as Nancy jumps awake once more, jolting in her sleep before yawning. A faded, gray fog settles over the camp and with it, five more survivors make their way around the campfire. You know what that means — a new trial is bound to start at any second.

Readying yourself, your muscles tense and your heart rate picks up, preparing to sprint when the time comes. A darkened, indigo-tinted fog wraps around you — it’s cold and loud as it grasps you from the campfire. You blink and then you’re in Haddonfield.

Taking in a deep breath, you shuffle quickly to the nearest generator. Feng smiles as she passes by you stealthily, clicking her flashlight at you a few times. The area is terrifyingly quiet — it must mean your killer this round is a watcher. You puff up your cheeks as you mis-wire something, moving away from the generator that’s popped.

A scream echoes in the distance — it sounds too close, so you take off.

Momentarily, you hide in a dusty bedroom. You peek from the walls, not spotting anyone other than the back of Leon’s bulletproof vest. Another look from the room — another scream hits the air.

Finding another generator was easy enough, but trying to stay hidden was a little more difficult. Your fingers curl and tug on wires, the smell of oil and burning wires hitting you the more you twiddle with them. Claudette hovers beside you, checking to see if you need any healing. Deeming you healthy, she flops to the other side of the generator.

“It’s Ghostface,” she breathes. Looking over her shoulder warily, she gulps as she looks back to you. “Already got Feng and Dwight. Only one gen’s done ; I’ve been hooked.”

You pause your wiring, confusion building up in you. “I haven’t even seen him yet.”

Claudette pauses too, looking over you with a furrowed eyebrow. “If we don’t make it, then win for us. Yeah?”

The generator pops with completion, lighting up for a second and exposing your location. You take off in the opposite direction Claudette did, hopping through a window and out through the backdoor. A flash of black catches your eye — your killer has finally shown himself.

You decide to buy everyone else some time. Hopefully, with a little distraction, a few more generator’s could be fixed.

Sneaking behind him, you let out a small “psst!” and wait for his attention to fall on you. He whips around, white mask greeting you. Walking towards a closet, you point to it a few times. Ghostface looks from the closet, to you, and back again. You wiggle your hand, insisting, “someone’s in there!”

Curiously, the closet door creaks open and Ghostface sees it’s empty. He turns to face you slowly and you’re already holding back giggles. A chase is pursued — something you struggle to do with all of your laughter. He swings his knife haphazardly, not really aiming at you, but not allowing you to get away with your joke either.

“Heheh—ah!” After a successful swing, a cut slashes across your arm. Blood seeps from it as you fall to the ground, laughter still spilling from your lips as you roll around. Ghostface shakes his head down at you — as if he’s disappointed in your joke — before he saunters off to find his next victim. You frown as your laughter comes to a stop, “well, now what?”

Another generator pops and you think this is it. We’re so close to going home — well, what you call home now. Letting out a sigh, you sit up and wrap your new cut with a bandage. You hear a squeal, then a scream. Seems our Ghostie is agitated now ; ready to get the trial over with.

Chills flow up your spine, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead as the feeling of being watched overpowers you. That can’t be good. You stiffen, looking through the corner of your eyes without turning your head. Hopefully, you’ll see him with your peripheral vision if he’s near. Otherwise— you didn’t want to think of the other option.

Sneakily, you tip-toe into a nearby house, hoping to wait out the feeling. But, you know you won’t. One thing about Ghostface is once his eyes are set on you, you’re not escaping. A noise catches your attention in the silence — the sound of a latch unlocking.

The hatch — you must be the only one left.

Your breath catches in your throat as you creep along the street, keeping an eye out for the hatch. You see it — it’s right in your sights and your heart rate picks up. Shaky breaths escape your parted lips as you glance around the empty street. Coast is clear — time to make a run for it.

Until a white mask phases in out of nowhere, directly on the other side of the hatch.

“Oh, come on,” you whine. Ghostface tilts his head at you, waving his knife teasingly. Your arm stings with the shine of it, bandage now being colored a deep red. “I’m so close to ending this!” He continues to stare your way silently. “Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”

“That’s the game, doll.” You’ve never heard him speak before now. A static-y, modulated voice isn’t what you expect to hear. He creeps closer, no longer directly across from you. “That’s what makes this fun.”

You purse your lips, fingers knotting together at the edge of your edge. “Okay, how about this? You let me take hatch, and I’ll let you take a shirtless picture of me. My face isn’t allowed to be in it, though!”

Ghostface bounced where he stood, an excited giggle echoing in his mask as he immediately agreed. Puffing up your cheeks, you let out a breath before nodding to yourself in encouragement. A polaroid camera has replaced the blood-soaked knife in his hand — even with the weapon gone from sight, dread flushes through you.

“Okay,” you say to yourself, “this is no big deal.”

Without another thought, your fingers clench the end of your shirt and raise it to cover your face. Your skin prickles with the wind, goosebumps raising at the new sensation. With bated breath, you wait to hear the shutter go off — a click, another giggle, the hatch closing ; anything. All that’s there is silence.

And then a leather glove is wrapped around your wrist.

Jumping at the sudden touch, your shirt falls back into place as you take a step back. Only a sliver of skin is free from the glove — just enough for his skin to brush against yours.

A golden sheen takes over you, settling where your bodies meet. In a panic induced state, you’re pushed to the ground as Ghostface hovers over top of you. Shaky, shallow breaths hit his mask as his camera is settled to the right of your head. Slowly, he peels a glove off and reaches for you.

Where his now bare hand meets, a light follows. Right on your wrist, the shape of his fingers is imprinted forever, as if it were a birthmark you were born with. It was supposed to be a myth — a tale shared between hopeless romantic’s. Soulmates weren’t supposed to actually exist.

Except, yours apparently did. In a realm you couldn’t escape ; killing you and your fellow survivors on a continuous loop. You were stuck there — stuck with a murderer as your soulmate until forevermore.

Ruffled hair is exposed to the wind as Ghostface unmasks himself, his pupils practically hearts as he stares down at you. His eyes search your face, never settling on one particular spot as he drinks you in entirely. You feel as he lets out a breath ; feel his shoulders sag with some kind of relief as he grabs one of your hands. He leads it to his face and lets out another sigh when his skin glows, the shape of your hand left on the left side of his face.

“Mine,” his voice is soft. You can’t stop looking at him — can’t stop staring at your hand that’s been imprinted onto his cheek. “You’re all mine. Made just for me.”

You can’t tell if the feeling swelling inside of you is dread or excitement. But, you let him pull you closer anyways ; allow him to hug you as he pleases. This could come in handy, after all. Maybe.

——♡—— lets ignore that valentines day is over already teehee <3 i hope my version of ghostie is okay, idk how well i write him </3 airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#danny johnson x reader #danny johnson imagines #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen imagines #danny johnson ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #ghostface imagine #dbd imagine #dbd x reader #dbd ghostface #dead by daylight imagines #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dead by daylight ghostface #💝 : soulmate au’s

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wave2tyun · 2 months

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make your heart stop | ☆

pairing: yeonjun x reader

genre: friends to lovers, fluff<3

prompts: - “are you jealous?”

- “you’re blushing”

- “stop looking at me like that”

warnings: mentions of alcohol

word count: 1.1k

a/n: comforting kitty anon THIS ONE actually goes out to you!!!!😼😼💖 i don't know if you had a chance to see my silly little mishap- i think my brain was just not working properly in the morning asbdhjab i was looking through my old docs trying to find something when the realisation hit and my face dropped.......😭😭

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

you don’t know how, or when, but late-night karaoke with the tubatu boys somehow became a regular friday thing. ordering unreasonably priced alcohol, sharing food, screaming your lungs out as you sang trot songs together- it was possibly the best activity to shake off all the stress accumulated throughout the week.

the owners already recognised you as regulars; every week, they would make sure to have at least one booth free for the six of you, catering to all your needs. it was heaven- and you could barely bring yourselves to leave.

this time though, you ended up parting ways quite early, the reason being beomgyu drinking one can of beer too much, falling down to his knees whenever he tried to take a step. he insisted on singing to you all one last song, despite stumbling over each and every word he said even in casual speech. soobin and taehyun were the ones to carry him out, shily apologising as they exited through the door. meanwhile, kai took videos of the drunken boy, the joy of teasing him in the morning already bubbling up in his chest.

yeonjun, however, remained with you and walked you home. he ended up staying over at your place, as neither the singing nor the alcohol were enough to tire you out. turning on the tv, you decided to end the day by watching a movie together, hoping, that at some point, the two of you would doze off.

slumping onto the couch, you searched for the movie you agreed on as yeonjun took care of preparing the caramel popcorn.

“taehyun killed it tonight” you exclaimed, eyes gleaming as you reminisced the earlier events “like seriously- his voice suits that song even better than the original singer. and that high note at the end? how are his vocal chords even able to do that?”

yeonjun stared at his reflection in the microwave, shifting his focus to the popping sound coming from it rather than your voice. he loved hearing you talk- but now? his left eye was twitching, and he didn’t get why.

a mixture of anger and something he couldn’t quite pinpoint was spreading throughout his chest, starting from the heart, then all the way down to his stomach, creating an almost nauseating feeling. was it jealousy? hm, no. he knew very well himself that his fellow members were great singers, their capabilities were definitely worth praising- he just wished that you’d have paid more attention to the way he, too, sang his heart out in that tiny karaoke room. okay- maybe yeonjun was, indeed, jealous. maybe, just slightly- actually more than slightly, he was quite very jealous.

yeonjun seemed a bit out of it ever since he returned to the living room with the popcorn bowl, his lips were stuck in a pout even while talking or eating. at first, you didn’t give it much thought, assuming that the exhaustion was beginning to take its toll on him.

15 minutes further into the movie, he still had that same absent-minded expression on his face, now combined with a frown. it was clear as day that his attention towards the plot had simply perished, eyes preferring to watch his own fingers fidget with the blanket on his lap.

did you say something out of pocket? it was never your intention to make him feel bad in any way. you backtracked a little bit, thinking about your earlier conversation. you got to your apartment, picked a movie and snacks, then waited for the popcorn to be ready. did you talk about anything else during that time? hm- you scratched your head, trying to concentrate better. then, it was like a lightbulb had been turned on inside your head.

“are you jealous?” you said, almost shouting the question. (how discreet-) the realisation hit you like a truck, and you spoke without thinking. the chances of finding out the truth from him could be close to zero now.

“no” yeonjun was quick to give you the answer you expected. he jolted out of his seat, like a cat taken by surprise. for a second there, he actually wondered whether you were able to hear his thoughts, or whether he had been unknowingly speaking out loud this entire time.

unconvinced, you continued to stare down at him. that ‘no’ was a pitch higher than his usual voice and it was only adding more to your suspicions “i’m not jealous-” he spoke again in that same tone “y/n, come on- stop looking at me like that” he whined, giving your shoulder a slight push as he sat back down on the couch.

“jun? you sure you’re not jealous?” you inched your face closer to his, yeonjun moving his head back at the same time. he was unaware of his surroundings, too focused on keeping some sort of distance. you cupped his cheeks to stop him from slipping away any further, afraid that, at some point, he would fall off the couch. his cheeks were squishy, and you pinched and stretched them like a kid playing with pizza dough. his constant yearning for your attention was becoming -somehow- fulfilled, and he didn't know how to handle it.

as his heart felt close to jumping out of his chest at any given moment, he placed his hands over yours, muttering a quiet “stop that” before breaking eye contact with you.

“you’re blushing” you chuckled, your fingertips brushed against his soft, reddened cheeks. yeonjun wasn’t one to easily get flustered. he wasn’t a great liar either- not in front of you, at least.

“you were sitting too close to me- it was suffocating me” he attempted to defend himself.

“oh?” you tilted your head, as you reduced the gap between the two of you once again, a sly smile tugging at the corner of your lips “since when does me sitting close bother you?” his chest was beginning to raise up and down more rapidly underneath you. yeonjun gulped, the audible sound giving away his sheer nervousness. it didn’t bother him- he liked it. in fact, he was more bothered by the fact that he didn’t have the guts all night to just hold you in his arms.

your tongue darted out to wet your lips, taking away all of his focus. he couldn’t take it anymore- it was getting too much, too overwhelming: the scent of your perfume, the warm breath on his face, the rosy lips sitting just a few centimeters away from his. sighing, he gave in, his hand coming to the back of your neck as he closed the gap that kept on tormenting him. your eyelids fluttered shut, taking in the slow rhythm of his kiss, indulging in the way your lips felt against his.

and once he parted away, he admitted, completely out of breath:

“okay. maybe i was a bit jealous”

taglist: @huekalover3000

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun fic #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun headcanons

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callsign-dexter · 3 months

Text

Heatwave of Emotions 18+

Request: Hey hooooo my dear ❤️ I love your blog sooooo much that I cannot resist to send in a Kelly Severide idea for my bday on Monday 🫣🥰 but of course you can write it whenever you have time !It would be something where you're just moved to Chicago, working at 51 and everyone immediately loves you, especially one grumpy Lieutenant. So after some weeks adjusting to everything and even getting closer with Kelly, which everyone notices and sees how happy you make each other, you finally agree on a date with him. Which turns out absolutely great and you're about to kiss as some random chick disturbs you both (she's been a one time thing with him at some point but not something serious) and you leave him standing there, being hurt and sad. The next days you barely talk with him and don't get him any chance to explain, so the rest of 51 tries talking in your mind that he's never been that serious about a girl until you showed up and stuff. Sooooo on a free day you show up at his apartment, wanting to talk with him, but as he opens the door you notice he just came out of the shower and you cannot get your thoughts together, so you kiss him, which he gladly returns and the situation gets into his bedroom, getting away all doubts of you🔥😉

Pairings: Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut

Masterlist

A/N: Happy Belated Birthday to the anon who sent this in! I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 2: @talesofreading and @imagine-all-the-fandoms here is some Kelly Severide for ya!

When you moved to Firehouse 51 in Chicago from your old house back in Colorado, who wasn’t the best towards women, you thought this was going to be the same way. Boy, were you wrong. When you walked in you saw several women and the house and when they saw you, they immediately welcomed you and made it feel like home. Sylvie Brett, Stella Kidd, and Gabriela Dawson became your immediate friends and you couldn’t ask for anyone better to hang out with. When you were introduced to the rest of everyone, they were quick to make you feel welcomed and that made you smile. There was one person that caught your eye and you could tell that you had caught his eye as well. Once everyone cleared out and it was just you and him in the room, he approached you. “Hi I’m Kelly Severide. I work on Squad 3.” He said and smiled a dazzling smile that had you swooning and you smiled back at him.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m gonna be working on Ambulance 61 with Sylvie and Gabriela.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“You’ll be with the best. So, what made you move here?” He asked and you could tell he was actually curious and not looking for small talk.

“My firehouse back in Colorado wasn’t the best towards women and my ex-boyfriend cheated on me and he worked in the same house. I was the laughing stalk and needed a new start.” You said and he looked like he was actually pissed that happened to you.

“That is no way to treat someone as beautiful as you.” He said and you actually blushed and you were going to say something else but the bells rang for Ambulance 61 and he looked at you. “Well, it looks like it is your time to shine.” He said and you nodded as Sylvie came and motioned you to come and you did as you were walking towards the ambulance and got in the back, she turned to you.

“You and Kelly, huh?” She said with a smirk and you just bowed your head and smiled while blushing.

“Ohhhh, what is this about?” Gabriela asked and Sylvie turned to her.

“When I went to get her, she and Kelly were talking up a storm and he was smiling like actually smiling.” She said

“Are you saying that Kelly and Y/N have a crush on each other already?” She asked and you just blushed furiously because yes it was true.

“Exactly what I’m saying.” She said

“Stop it guys.” You said but you were smiling and they laughed.

“In all seriousness, this is the first time I actually saw him smile an actual smile.” Sylvie said

“Really?” You asked and she nodded and turned back to look at you.

“Yes, he doesn’t smile a lot and he has been a grouch for a while.” She said but you didn’t get to ask any more questions because you had arrived at the scene. You three worked perfectly together but you couldn’t stop thinking about Kelly and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

——————————————————————

4 weeks had gone by and you were loving your new house and they were loving you. You fit in well with the group. We were close with all them but you were very close to none other than Kelly Severide. You won’t admit it but you had a crush on the handsome Squad 3 member whenever you were in the room together. Both of you could not stop smiling and making heart eyes with each other.

Not many calls were coming in so you took this time to tidy things up and get to know more of your coworkers. You had just come back from using the restroom when you heard Casey's voice and stopped where you couldn’t be seen, especially when you heard your name. “Ever since Y/N came, Kelly has been a lot nicer.” He said

“Oh absolutely, he is smiling a lot more and it's creepy but it’s nice.” Stella said and everyone agreed this made you smile to yourself. You had noticed that his mood had changed and to be honest it was nice to have a male being so nice and making you feel noticed. It had gone quiet so you had walked away with a smile on your face. You walked where the trucks were and found Kelly sitting there and that just made you smile even more. You walked over to him and sat down and he looked up and smiled.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked with a smile.

“Oh, nothing really. I just love this house and it’s nowhere near my last one and I’m so grateful for that.” You said and he leaned up further.

“We absolutely love having you here. I know I do most of all. Speaking of knowing you. I have to admit that I do have a crush on you.” He said and that made you blush.

“I do too.” You said shyly.

“Well, if we feel the same way then maybe go out on a date with me. I know you have turned me down in the past.” He said, this hasn’t been the first time that he had asked and each time you had politely turned him down and he understood and didn’t push but that didn’t stop him from asking a few weeks later. You looked at him thinking, this is the first time that you both had admitted that you had crushes on each other.

“Ok, fine. I’ll go on a date with you.” You said and the biggest smile appeared on his face.

“Really?” He asked and you nodded.

“Really.” You said

“What kind of food do you like?” He asked

“I really love Thai food.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“I know this really good Thai place. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.” He said and you nodded.

“Sounds like a date.” You said

“Indeed, it does.” He said and then the bells went off. You all were heading out onto the call.

——————————————————————

The day of the date started the few days you had off and you were somewhat looking forward to it but not really, you had really just wanted to be with your crew because being alone in a house by yourself sucked. You had spent all day getting ready for your date that you had even called Stella, Sylvie, and Gabriela over to help. When they asked why and you told them they practically squealed and dragged you to your room and started going through your closet. After finally settling on a pair of jeans that hugged your legs and accented what they needed and a nice red shirt that once again accented everything it needed to, you were ready. While you waited, they did your hair and makeup and then you all gossiped. It was mostly about Kelly but you didn't mind not in the least bit. They left around 6:30 PM and now you just had to wait.

7 PM rolled around and Kelly was knocking on your door. During the weeks everyone had exchanged phone numbers with you and some of them, mostly the 3 females that had become your friends, knew you address one being Kelly. You walked to your door and opened to find him on the other side holding some flowers and that made you smile. “These are for you.” He said and handed you the flowers which you gladly took.

“Thank you. Peonies are my favorite.” You said taking them and bringing them up to your nose to smell them. “Come inside while I put these away.” You said and stepped aside and he did just that.

“So, our reservation is at 7:30 PM.” He said “It doesn't take that long to get there.” He added and you nodded as you finished putting the flowers in a vase. When it was close to 7:30 PM you both started to head that way. It turns out it was a walking distance but he insisted on driving and you let him. He found a place to park and then he was shutting off the engine and walking over to your side of the car and opening the door for you and that made you smile.

“Thank you.” You said and he smiled.

“You’re very much welcome.” He said and when you were plenty enough away from the door, he shut it and locked it. You walked in and straight to the desk “Reservation for two under Severide.” He said and the hostess nodded and smiled.

“Right this way.” They said and you followed them. You both were led outside to a semi-private area and Kelly pulled out the chair for you. The date was going well and you two got to know a lot about each other. When the date was over, he paid for it and then you both left. As you were walking to his car that was parked a few feet away, the both of you stopped at a little park that was close by with a fountain.

“I really had a nice time with you.” You said looking up at him and he smiled.

“I did too. Do you wish you would’ve gone out with me sooner?” He asked and you chuckled.

“I think I was right to turn you down those three other times. It just helped make this night even more perfect.” You said and he chuckled.

“I get it. I’m just glad you said yes, this time.” He said and then turned to you and the both of you stood there staring at each other and you both slowly leaned in. Your lips were almost touching when a female voice sounded.

“Kelly? Kelly Severide?” The voice said and that made you both look up and over at the voice.

“Alexa.” He said and your stomach dropped. Everyone told you about his flings and relationships that didn’t work out. You expected to meet them sooner or later but not now.

“Why haven’t you texted me back? I wanna hook up again.” Alexa said and that made you feel even worse.

“I told you we were done.” He said and he shook his head and looked over at you.

“Baby, I promise we are done.” He said and you just shook your head. Alexa put her hands on his biceps and got all up and close.

“It’s only been a week. A week too long. Ditch this tramp and come back to my place with me.” She said trying her hardest to work. Kelly didn’t say anything.

“I can’t believe I actually fell for this. I should’ve known better. You’re just as bad as my ex, you were hooking up with her when you were talking and trying to go out with me. You know what? I’m so done. Never talk to me again, Severide.” You said and he cringed and started to panic. You only called him Severide while at work all the other times it had been Kelly. You pushed past them and started to walk away. You heard some talking and the fact he wasn’t running after you right now broke your heart and tears fell. “I was so stupid.” You told yourself you were almost home when you heard your name.

“Y/N, please stop.” Kelly said and you did but didn’t turn around. “I haven’t talked to that girl in months and when you came into the house all communication stopped. You have to believe me. She was lying.” He said and you shook your head and turned around and when he saw the tear tracks running down it broke him.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. How do I know she’s not lying?” You asked and he hesitated and you let out a watery chuckle. “Do me a favor and lose my number. The only time I will speak to you is at work but that’s it.” You said and walked the rest of the way to your home leaving him standing there. You shut the door and slid down it and sat there and sobbed.

Kelly was distraught. Since you had come into the house, he hadn’t hooked up with anyone, he wanted you and only you. You made his days better and his drinking had cut down tremendously. He just hoped that he could talk to you and let you know that but right now you weren’t listening to him. He immediately pulled out his phone and sent a couple of text messages to you and called you but the messages went unanswered and the calls went straight to voicemail.

——————————————————————

When it came time for you to go back to work you were dreading it. You didn’t want to see him at all. You told him all about your ex and how awful men were to you. When you had arrived at the station the only spot available was by Kelly’s car and you sighed but parked next to it. You killed the engine and got out and walked into the nearly silent station. You walked into the locker room and got changed and then you were heading to find everyone else. As you were searching for anyone, Kelly rounded the corner and you stopped and so he did. He looked like hell. He had bags under his eyes and his eyes weren’t as bright. “Y/N.” He said your name with a breathless whisper but you just shook your head and walked away.

Each time he tried to talk to you, you would just back away or make up an excuse that you had something to do and leave. You felt bad for doing so but he did break your heart and most importantly your trust. You still love him but you had built walls up and they weren’t going to come down anytime soon. You had to put up with him for 3 days while you worked and it was gonna be difficult but you were going to pull through no matter what.

Over the next few days, you avoided him like the plague and each time he tried to corner you and tried to explain the bell had rung each time saving you. You honestly didn’t know if you were going to give him another chance or not. Everyone had settled into the kitchen while Squad 3 was out on a call. While you were there, they got to talking about anything but the subject of Kelly had come up. “Gosh Kelly has become so irritable in the last few days. He’s even more grumpier and pretty much has gone back to his old ways.” Stella said and then she turned to you. “How was the date?” She asked.

“It was great and he was a gentleman. Afterwards we went to a little park near my house and as we were talking some girl came up named Alexa. She said that they hadn’t hooked up in weeks. She started touching him and he didn’t even try to stop her. He knew my history with men and how I was cheated on.” You said and everyone was quiet.

“You know he has certainly changed since you came here. He started to become happy and friendly. His attitude has changed drastically.” Sylvie said and everyone nodded in agreement.

“You’ve changed him for the better.” Gabriela said and you just sat there quietly taking it all in.

“This Alexa girl he hasn’t talked to in months, almost close to a year.” Casey said and you looked up surprised.

“So, he was telling the truth?” You asked and they all nodded and now you felt bad for not giving him the time of day to actually explain.

“He was. He is so in love with you that it is almost sickening.” Herrmann said, you thought about it and then the bells were ringing and Ambulance 61 and Truck 81 was being called out. As you were walking to the ambulance, the Squad 3 truck was pulling into the station. As Kelly got out you both made eye contact with each other but you had gotten in and shut the doors and you were off.

——————————————————————

When you got off shift you had debated on going straight home but you needed to see Kelly. You walked out to your car and noticed that he was already gone and you sighed. You got into your car and started the engine and headed over to his apartment. You knew where it was because you had been over there several times just to hang out and that was the first time you had admitted to yourself that you were absolutely in love with him.

You pulled into a space and parked and killed the engine. You started your way into the building and walked to the elevator and pressed the button and it immediately opened. You got in and then pressed the button for his floor. You waited anxiously for it to arrive at his floor and when it did you knew there was no going back. You got off and walked to his door and knocked. There was no answer. You debated on going back home or not but didn’t get a chance to turn around because the door was opening and it was revealing Kelly with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair was wet. “Y/N?” He asked and you couldn’t think of anything to say as you looked him up and down.

After a few minutes you finally had enough and no words were coming to you so you just smashed your lips onto his and he returned it. He was so surprised that it had pushed him back but he had grabbed your waist and pulled you inside and shut the door. He pushed you up against the door and the heavy make out session continued. You finally pulled apart when air was needed and you could feel his erection from underneath the towel. “I’m sorry. I believe you and should’ve let you explain.” You said and he shook his head.

“That doesn’t matter right now. Jump.” He said and you did so and then he was back to kissing you, hard. He walked his way to his bedroom and gently laid you down. You broke the kiss and pulled the towel off and your mouth watered at the sight, he was huge and you loved it. “You like what you see?” He asked and you nodded.

“Very much so, but I’m wearing too many clothes.” You said and he chuckled and then started to slowly undress you while caressing every part of your body and kissing it. Soon you were completely naked and showing all of you to him.

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He said and you blushed. He laid down on the bed and gently spread your legs and dove in. When his mouth met your hot core, you moaned and grabbed onto his head and pushed him more into you.

“Kelly.” You moaned out and he smirked, he circled your clit and then he pushed a finger into and you were throwing your head back. He thrusted into you and then added a second finger “Oh my gosh.” You moaned out that the rubber band feeling was starting to get tight and you were close. “I want to come on your cock.” You moaned out and he nodded and licked one more broad stripe up you before he was lifting his head and pulling out his fingers. He crawled up to you and kissed you, you tasted yourself on him.

“You ready, Baby?” He asked while pumping himself twice and you nodded.

“I need you inside me.” You said and he nodded and positioned himself at your entrance and he pushed in. You both moaned together as he did so.

“You’re so tight.” He said and when he bottomed out you felt so full and he stretched you in all the right places. He stayed still for a minute letting you adjust.

“Move.” You moaned out and he nodded and started to gently thrust into you. Your hands went to his back and your fingers dug into his shoulder blades.

“You’re perfect.” He said and started to thrust faster making you moan louder.

“Right there.” You said as he hit your g-spot. “Oh my gosh, I love you.” You moaned out and that just made him go faster.

“I love you too, Baby. You’re the only one for me.” He said and dipped his head down into your neck and sucked on it. He gently bit it and that you were clenching around him.

“I’m close.” He said and you moaned out.

“Me too. I want you to cum in me.” You moaned out and that just seemed to make him go faster.

Kelly’s thrust was becoming sloppy and you knew he was close. Your fingernails bit into him making him hiss. He reached a hand down to your clit and started to rub vigorously which helped you get closer. “Cum with me.” He moaned out and then he was bending down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking on it. When he gently bit it is when you came and you clenched around him which made him cum. You both came while calling out each other’s names. You both were coming down from your highs when he pulled slowly out of you and laid next to you. You both panted out of breath but a smile was on both of your faces. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’re the only one for me.” He said and you turned to look at him.

“I know. Everyone talked to me. I’m sorry for not letting you explain.” You said and he smiled at you.

“It’s ok. I’m just glad we’re here with each other now.” He said and you nodded “I love you.” He said and you smiled.

“I love you too.” You replied

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked and you sat up leaning on an elbow.

“Yes. I would love to.” You said and he smiled and he leaned over and kissed you. You were his and he was yours and that is all that mattered. Nothing was going to change that not now or ever.

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vampyrsm · 5 months

Text

‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER THIRTEEN | INARI ŌKAMI

‣‣ Synopsis: Our tale continues deep in the mountains of Northern Japan, where new eyes are opened to see the world in a different light and revelations are discovered yet unspoken. A creature prowls through the snow, waiting and watching until it can lead its prey down the steep mountain footpath to its demise.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 10.4k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, cannibalism, fighting scenes, training scenes, cursed energy usage, I take liberties with how CE/CT works, smut (oral m!receiving, breathplay, riding Sukuna, creampie, it's very intimate).

“Not that one.”

It was the seventh katana you had reached out for, only to be immediately shut down by Sukuna. He was positioned just a few paces behind you, arms crossed over his chest and a pensive look on his face. So you look past the katanas, the walls and racks of the armoury were full. It mirrored what you had often seen in the samurai’s barracks of the palace you had lived in with your father.

There were many weapons you had never trained with before or even seen, some in odd shapes and sizes or sealed away with talismans to suppress whatever had been trapped inside of them.

Sukuna had kept true to his word, taking you immediately to the armoury after you persuaded him that you’d much rather be dressed before entering a room full of sharp pointy things. Sukuna had only agreed on that last part, apparently, he enjoyed you most when you walked around nude.

You step away from the selection of swords on the wall and wander towards a rack in the centre of the room. Immediately you recognise the long spear-like weapon, it was the one you had run through Sugawara in the previous temple. Sukuna’s personal weapon. You raise your fingers towards it, and you can feel the pull of the cursed energy that had been preserved within. It tingles, whispering for you to pick it up.

“You used that one well, but it’s not for you to take.” Sukuna comments, much closer to your side and his head tilted down as he sweeps his eyes over his collection of personal weapons.

“It’s too big for me to wield anyway.” You let your hand glide away from the naginata, and your hand stops just above two rounded orbs of metal, it reminds you of the Vajra you had seen displayed in shrines.

This weapon feels entirely different to the naginata, which was a soothing type of pull on your cursed energy. This one is incessant on making you pick it up, Sukuna doesn’t move to stop you when your hand curls around the flat middle part between the two orbs.

Immediately, it feels like something fizzles up along your arm, a tingling sensation that bites at the palm of your hand.

“Supreme Martial Solution.” Sukuna supplies its name, his arms still crossed over his chest but he leans slightly closer to look at the weapon in your hand. It looked comically giant in your own hand but it was rather lightweight. “It wields lightning.”

“How?” You question, Sukuna had never shown you he had the ability to use lightning in his arsenal of attacks.

“It was a gift. Kenjaku had offered it to me in return for her safety. She knew I would’ve killed her for her quick tongue, so she gave me that.” Your stomach twists at the mention of Kenjaku. “She never told me who it belonged to, I assume it belonged to a God.”

You hadn’t run into the woman thankfully since your outburst, and you could no longer sense her cursed energy in the temple itself. Sukuna had never mentioned her, and so you assumed he had no idea that it was Kenjaku who clued you in on the fact that Sukuna held your father’s sword hostage.

Returning the Kamutoke to its stand, you turn back towards the selection of katanas Sukuna had pointed out as being ‘empty’. Some of them were large, much too large for you to wield and some were so damaged that you’d have to seek out a swordsmith to even attempt to fix the blade.

“Do any call to you?” Sukuna had made his way over, his hands loosened from his chest and he drags a singular claw along the sleek sheaths of the katanas.

You don’t reply to Sukuna, instead, you step past him and he pulls back to allow you to fully peruse the selection of swords. They all appear to be the same, sleek and tightly bound hilts that were no doubt made specifically for the swordsman who once wielded them. Slowly, you come to a standstill in front of the one katana that stood out from the rest.

It was only slightly chunkier than your usual katana, but it was the right length. You follow the length of the sharp edge towards its hilt, instead of a metal handguard, you’re met with white fur. Odd, you thought. Most men opted for a metal handguard for protection of their fingers, but you spy no such thing. The fur is thick, maybe thick enough to stop an oncoming blade.

The hilt binding is that of pure black, and the end is a rounded pommel made of a dark crimson-purple colour.

“Where did you get this one?” You question after a moment of staring, and Sukuna approaches you from behind to stare directly over you.

“You wish to truly know?” He asks, and with a nod of your head, he continues. “It came from the man who tried to protect your father.”

You expect to feel your heart twist in grief at the mention of your father, yet it remains beating steadily; calmly. Instead, you find your hand grasping the hilt of the blade, it feels heavy in your hand but you find your cursed energy curling itself around the blade.

“This is the one.” You breathe, and when you glance over your shoulder to spare a look at Sukuna. He’s grinning, a fiendish grin that makes him look more demonic with the dim flickering lanterns.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

...

Thankfully, Sukuna had been gracious enough to allow you to change before he dragged you through the maze of temple corridors. Apparently, he had an inside dojo. The urge to snarl and snap your teeth at him for making you train out in the cold grew tenfold when you found the dojo was warmed by his own cursed energy.

Half of the dojo was open up to the inner courtyard, here you could see the seat Sukuna would take if he ever held court outside. The snow had started to fall again at some point in the morning, delicately landing on the loose gravel and further freezing the small water features.

Sukuna himself was standing across from you, gone was the haori he had draped over himself that morning and he wore only his black Hakama. His arms were loose, muscles tensing with each flex of his hands. The sweat building on his chest glistens in the bleak light that bleeds from the open doors.

For the last twenty minutes, Sukuna had been throwing his weight around to see if you could defend against him with a weapon. Previously you had relied on your fists and the guidance of your father’s cursed energy that had been stored in the blade Sukuna had kept from you. But now, this was a blank weapon, one that was waiting to be moulded by you.

It had been hard, admittedly. It was difficult to defend yourself with a blade that was heavy to swing, and that was without the added pressure of trying to avoid the aimed punches that would destroy whatever it came into contact with. Sukuna wasn’t one to pull his punches it seems, regardless if this was just training.

Sukuna rocks forward on his toes slightly, the muscles in his stomach tighten and they bunch at his shoulders; he was going to attack. Your fingers tighten around the hilt of the blade, focusing on that swirling darkness deep in your gut that had opened a red eye in the presence of its master.

It burns at the tips of your fingers, burrows itself beneath the softness of your nail beds and squeezes until it threatens to break your very fingers. But you don’t let it, you hold onto the hilt of the blade as if your life depended on it. Perhaps it does with the way Sukuna vanishes from his place in front of you.

You feel it then. A shift in the air, and the snow outside freezes midair. Your lungs contract painfully slowly until they too are frozen with the sudden influx of cursed energy, it’s not like anything you ever felt before.

You had never been a victim of your own cursed energy — until now.

But that pit of darkness in your stomach tugs, it tightens and your fingers minutely tighten around the hilt of the blade. It tugs, and it tugs… until the cursed energy is released and Sukuna appears directly in front of you. It causes the heavy breath you sucked in to lodge itself in your throat, his eyes are wide with mania; he enjoyed his new technique.

His energy curls around his fists, two of them angled to collide with both your face and your body. It’s instinctual to react the way you do, your hand tightens around the hilt of the blade that remains at your side. You swipe upwards, dragging the tip of the sword through the air in the same manner Sukuna had intended to strike you; with all of your cursed energy behind it.

There’s a tug in your chest this time, your heart stutters at the sensation and for a moment, you feel something slip away — something fundamental to your soul.

Blood splatters against your face, leaks into the cracks of your lips and paints your teeth. No longer does it burn at your skin like acid as it once had, instead it seeps into your skin as if it belonged there. Sukuna sputters a laugh, a sound that matches the wide-eyed crazed look on his face.

Both of his hands fall to the floor; limp.

“Betrayed by my own technique.” He grins as he speaks, his now severed arms raised to display the consequences of pouring every drop of your cursed energy into the sword. The blood drips onto the floor until it slows, and with a flex of his biceps, skin bubbles and rapidly regrows—and in a blink of an eye, his arms are brand new.

His own technique… You follow the trajectory of your sword arc upwards, your eyebrows raising immediately when you see the daylight now pouring through a slash that had come from your blade. You can’t help but grin at it, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as when you had used the flames prior.

Dismantle and Cleave felt natural. It flowed perfectly with the training you had undergone as a child; it’s almost like you were born to wield his technique.

“You look proud of yourself.” Sukuna comments, having taken a few steps back to observe the large gouged-out slash. “I think you’d be wasting your time trying to use the sword as a conduit for your energy.”

“How so? We saw the aftermath of your flames. I can’t control them freely like you.”

“Giving up so soon? I didn’t know you were such a coward.” His words make your nostrils flare, your lips drawing thin lest you spit words at the man who’d no doubt make you eat them.

“No.” You grit out instead, fingers tensing around the blade. “What would you have me do instead?”

“Store your technique in it. Make it a cursed tool.” He appraises the weapon for a second, head tilted. “That attack was slightly different from my Cleave. It felt like you were digging deeper than just cutting my arm off.”

You know what he means. You felt it, in fact. That tug deep in your chest, something deeper than just your heart reacting to the sensation of using a technique that didn’t belong to you. Something grappled with a piece of your soul and slithered away with it, and you don’t doubt that piece now resides within Sukuna.

Sukuna grows silent in the wake of your realisation of what you have lost, his eyes narrowing in your direction. You didn’t want to draw his attention to what you had taken from him, and he from you. You’re sure he could feel it if he looked deep inside of himself, but if he knew you could take more than just his strength—... you can’t imagine it’d end well.

“How do I store a technique?” You question, and Sukuna still keeps his silence as he stares at you with a look of calculation settling onto his face. When his mouth parts, your stomach clenches. Hard. The sweat on the back of your neck drips down the attire typically worn for training, if he were to realise his grave mistake now, he would without a doubt kill you.

“You’ll figure it out.” is all he says instead, turning on his heel before leaving the room. You can’t help but blink stupidly in the direction he went. If he had truly picked up on what had happened, he didn’t make it known. And that alone left a more bitter taste in your mouth than anything.

Sukuna was a master of planning and working things to his advantage, he rarely dived headfirst into something without mapping out a strategy. Perhaps that’s what he vanished to do; to map out a way to kill you and figure out a way to regain what he had given you.

You glance at the heavy blade in your hand, your fingers partially hidden by the white fur at the top of the hilt. It glistened in the sunlight with Sukuna’s blood, still fresh and dripping onto the tatami mats where it would forever be marked.

It didn’t make any sense. You cut deeper than just flesh and bone, you felt a part of you in return get severed—no doubt because of the binding vow. One heart and one soul, that is what Sukuna had said. It wasn’t just a matter of becoming one to unionise power, to become an unstoppable force but quite literally to become one heart and one soul.

That thought has you swallowing harshly against the growing lump in your throat. Did that mean if you were to die, Sukuna would die too? You had no idea just how deep the binding vow went, did the connection join your lifelines?

You didn’t feel the pain Sukuna must’ve felt when you sliced through his arm, just the pull of your soul.

God—it was too confusing. You were plunged into a world that you had no idea even existed despite it living before your very eyes. Your father had been the one to stop you from learning your technique at a young age, when you could’ve truly developed it and used it to protect yourself.

Kiso was no better, he had neglected to tell you as your father commanded him to never utter a word to you of your true heritage. Instead, he armed you with a wooden naginata and told you to learn the ways of the Samurai.

Anger curls in your stomach. A bitter ash that coats your insides and turns your stomach into nothing but a pit of bubbling lava, how dare they cover your eyes to the truth. Only one person in your life had been helpful enough to pull the wool away from your eyes, and he was deemed to be a monster of this world.

Someone who your father had no doubt wanted dead, as did the rest of Japan.

Sukuna Ryomen.

And now, the new Shogun—your uncle—wants the both of you dead. The Emperor no doubt funding the Shogun with hunting the both of you down, if he were to learn of the power you harboured and what Sukuna had gained…

You close your eyes, breathing in deep through your nose to push it back through parted lips. No, you wouldn’t let yourself imagine what would come of that bloodshed. Because it would not be like any fight you had seen before, it would be war.

So instead your hand tightens around the hilt of that heavy blade, the fur brushes against the back of your knuckles. You had no idea where to even begin when storing a technique in an inanimate object, but you did know what it felt like to have energy flowing through it. So that’s where you will start.

...

It went on for days, you sneaking out before the sun had even breached those heavy mountainous clouds and as the moon had graced you with her presence. You ventured into the snow in the mornings, using the freshly laid snowflakes to mark your footwork. Sukuna had often watched you in the mornings when you’d train, not offering words of advice but rather just… observing. He knew you were trained with the sword, but he had never seen you truly work with one.

In the moments he saw you wield it against him, it was purely animalistic instinct mixed in with your upbringing. It was a different type of movement when it came to training. It was about recognising the blade as nothing more than an extension of your body, to feel the weight of it and the pull on muscles when you moved it around your body.

You doubted Sukuna had any type of formal training, having had to figure it out himself once he found his footing in the world. That didn’t make him any less of a swordsman than you, or a warrior in general. No, he had earned his medals of honour in the depths of battle itself, he had gleaned what he could from men who were born to be nothing more than Samurai.

He was formidable, as were you.

It was at night when you trained in a way only a few knew how. Meditation. It was something everyone could do, but not all of them would sit for hours. As a child, Kiso had you meditate often in the mornings when the sun was its gentlest and he would tell you the importance of centering one's body and mind.

It was no different now, but instead of centering yourself – you focused on centering your cursed energy. It felt more tangible after a few practised hours of sitting in the moonlight, the bitter cold air had made it difficult to truly relax your muscles.

But once you dropped yourself into it completely, you could feel the difference between your own cursed energy and that which belonged to Sukuna. His was heavier, denser, aged by years of practice and bloodshed. Yours was lighter and not nearly as all-consuming as his, yet that did not mean it was weak.

It took the first two nights to bring the two opposing cursed energies together, to mould them until they fit each other as if they were puzzle pieces. At first, they tried to repel from one another; as if your own energy knew that it could not coincide with the darkness of Sukuna’s.

On that second night, you felt the clash of the opposing energies deep in your gut, both grappling with the other in what felt like a neverending power struggle. Sukuna’s energy was restless, as you suspected, it would bow its head to no one but its rightful master. It took time. To shove down that oppressive feeling of bubbling power somewhere deep within until it finally snapped into place.

It came to you like you were breathing for the first time in a long time, as if your head had been held beneath water by cold dead hands. A fog is lifted from your eyes, a blink of new eyes revealing a world you had never seen before. Everything was alive. Inorganic objects around you teeming with a sense of life, the very snowflakes that fluttered from the skies were alive… a soul to each and every one of them.

Not a soul of a person, nothing quite as intricately complex, but it simply existed.

Movement to the east had your head snapping in that direction, eyebrows slowly raising to reach your hairline. Whilst it was muted and muffled by many layers of walls, you could see Sukuna. Or more accurately, his soul. It was pure darkness, a shade of black that not even the night sky could replicate if it tried. Yet the longer you stared, you caught the faintest shimmer of something bright—a light in the sea of darkness within.

You dared not tell Sukuna of your new sight. He told you before to never reveal your techniques until you needed to, a binding vow with yourself was as powerful as any weapon. So you did not tell him that night when you watched the raging darkness of his soul whilst you laid next to him, even in sleep it did not rest.

And then came the third evening. Sukuna had allowed you to leave him after dinner was served to train, he had wanted you to retire with him early for the night—but not for sleep. His honeyed words had nearly won you over, the promise of total bliss and to be sated was tempting, but you were far too close to breaking the barrier between your sword and cursed energy.

With the joining of the different energies within you, it was almost laughable how easy it was to overwhelm that thin barrier between inorganic and organic; your energy was relentless as it seeped into the blade. You could only watch as the mixture of black and red energy slithered over the smooth edge of the blade, sinking into the steel.

You lifted the blade from the wooden stand you had found lying around in the armoury, and even in your hand you can feel the weight of the technique and energy that resided within. Joy was an understatement for the emotion that coiled in your stomach, it was almost like giddiness.

A similar feeling to when you were a child and had been gifted your first real weapon. This was of your own making, and no one would be able to wield it but yourself. Not truly.

Father would be proud. The small whisper was that of a little girl, one who sat by her father in the mornings and bathed in the soft sunlight. A little girl who had wanted nothing more than the approval of her father, of the Shogun. Maybe he would’ve made her a part of the Shogunate if he gave her a chance — but instead, he succumbed to his fear of being overpowered.

The thought overwhelms you, and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut. The newfound sight often brought intense headaches, as if you weren’t ever truly made to see what was often hidden—you weren’t made to see the souls of others. But the headache that overwhelms you now has nothing to do with your sight, instead, it’s the reminder of your father’s betrayal.

Of the Emperor’s betrayal.

Your fingers longed to sink into aged hair and hold his head above his own body. A statement that not even the Emperor of Japan, the Ruler of Heaven, could save himself from the wrath of a woman hunted.

Since the vow had been made between yourself and Sukuna, emotions were heightened. Everything was hypersensitive, as if all of your nerve endings were exposed and his energy slithered along them endlessly; tempting you into leaning into those intense emotions.

Anger was the worst. It came in bouts of pure violence and you yearned for nothing more than bloodshed. Visions that would fill your mind with mountains of bodies, and with you at the top of them. Sitting… waiting for the next challenger. Sukuna had never been involved in those visions, he was never there with you atop a throne of corpses.

The katana is a welcome weight in your hands, a tether to this plane of existence and not the one way above. When you open your eyes, the flickering and flashes of life around you have faded to nothing but a dull smudge of colour. It doesn’t lessen your headache by any means, but it most definitely loosens the knotted strain between your eyebrows.

Slowly you rise from your kneeling position in the dojo, the tatami mats soften the sound of your socked feet until you reach the wooden floorboards. Mindlessly you follow along a path, twisting and turning through shoji doors, you pass by grandiose displays of armour that no doubt were to be worn by Sukuna if he so needed it.

A grand wooden door stands before you, heavily built to withstand a siege if anyone dared to lay foot into the domain of a living demon. It moves easily beneath your palm, opening at your very command. Before you is a sea of blood, only the smooth stone tiles guiding you to where you had yearned to be.

You step into the room, and the doors shut behind you with a creak. Absentmindedly, you glance over the koi ponds that had once been filled with water. The blood is pungent, a rippling crimson that seems to pull your gaze further and further inwards. It’s a distant noise that has your ears straining to hear, something that sounds as if it were in another room.

…A woman’s scream.

Then another, and another. They overlap until you can hear nothing but wails of the damned, young and old, babe and crone. It has your fingers tightening around the hilt of your blade, the sound growing louder and louder the longer you stare into the expansive ocean of blood. The lamenting souls of the unfortunate begging for your attention.

“You hear them too.” Sukuna’s voice is a rich tone that cuts through the screams, silencing them immediately. Like a stone dropped into a pool of water, everything stills out of fear. “Does it bother you?”

“Should it?”

“No.” He muses, and you drag your eyes away from the pool of blood to look up the stairs at the man himself. He’s lounging back on his throne, legs spread and arms working to hold up a rather long scroll. “It shouldn’t. Nothing in there is worth your time.”

“Mm, and my time is worth something now?” You raise an eyebrow when Sukuna looks your way sharply, watching each of your cat-like steps as you prowl your way forward and up the steps. He doesn’t stop you from approaching, doesn’t even move a muscle as all he does is watch you—a predator aware of another in his territory.

“It can be.” He lowers the scroll from in front of him once you stand at his feet, even on his throne he looks down at you. It should scare you. “You seem different tonight. Spirited. Tell me, do you feel the power that was gifted to you?”

“Something like that.” You dodge his questioning, if you had learned anything about Sukuna in the months of living by his side then you knew his questions often meant something more. He was probing to see if you figured out how to store a technique within the blade.

His eyes twitch slightly in a small narrowing of his eyelids, a look of unbelief that you didn’t answer him truthfully. But instead of forcing you to answer, he rears his head back to rest fully on the fused spinal cords of the throne made of bones. His nostrils flare, and he stares down at you along the length of his nose.

Slow as ever, Sukuna drags his eyes down the length of your body—a brief glance at the katana still held in your right hand—before he retraces his steps until he meets your gaze. Then, like the wolf who had caught the rabbit, he grins. Slowly.

“You did it, didn’t you?” A hand reaches out, the scroll of words long forgotten and left to tumble down to its resting place at the side of the throne. His fingers brush along the soft material of the kimono you had wrapped yourself in. “I can see the difference. I saw it in myself once too.”

That same hand skirts along your kimono sleeve until his hand finds your own, long thick fingers playing with your own delicately. Such an intimate touch when he wears the face of the Devil. He moves his hand until he gently cradles your own, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.

“Will you show it to me?” He questions, head tilting in such an animalistic way that momentarily, a thrill races down your spine. A hand comes up to curl into a fist against his cheek, resting there as he waits for your response.

“No.” You impishly smile back at him, and you’re unsurprised when he all but grins back at you.

“Smart girl. You remembered the importance of concealing your hand.” The hand wrapped around your own slowly inches upwards, his palm engulfing nearly the majority of your forearm when he curls his fingers around it. “Come here.”

It’s easy to follow the tug of your wrist, and you expect to fall into his lap easily enough. Yet hands grab at you when you get close enough, and with no effort at all, Sukuna presses you down until you’re on your knees between his own. From down here, he looks impossibly bigger in every sense of the word.

His muscles are huge, flexing at his biceps and shifting the muscles along his chest. The way he looks at you from above is demeaning, a King looking down at someone lesser than him. The hand that was looped around your wrist had shifted away, instead now curling a strand of your hair around his index finger.

“When I first had you before me, on your knees with the blood of your husband’s heart on your face…” His smile slowly spreads across his face, ruminating on the past. “I knew in that moment I wanted nothing more than to have you between my legs, on your knees and looking up at me with that fire in your eye.”

Slow as ever, Sukuna drags his thumb along the expanse of your jaw to swoop down to your bottom lip. He tugs at it feebly, displaying to him the teeth that had torn through raw human muscle. And all you can do is stare up at him through your lashes, waiting on his next move.

That same thumb pushes past the barrier of your lips, scraping over your teeth until it plants itself against your tongue. His other fingers hook just beneath your chin, and with a slight pressure on your tongue—he pries your mouth open until you can feel the spit pooling against his tongue and threatening to spill from your lips.

His thumb shifts away before it can, and instead, he rolls it up over your upper teeth. Displaying your feeble canines in comparison to his own, the skin of his thumb pressing against the pointed end to see if it could break through his own skin—it couldn’t.

With your tongue now free, you test the waters. You drag the tip of your tongue along the length of his thumb from beneath, and you notice immediately that Sukuna’s fixation snaps away from your teeth and onto your tongue. He watches as you drag it up and down once again before sucking his thumb into your mouth, and he does nothing to stop the deep noise that rumbles at the back of his throat in place of a groan.

His distraction serves you well enough to slide your hands up along his thighs, pushing against the muscles you can feel flexing beneath your fingers even under the trousers he wore. Even with your hands spread as wide as possible, it doesn’t come close to the width of his thighs. Everything about him was massive, so prominent and imposing.

By the time you reach the top of his thighs, there’s a visible hardness beneath the material of his hakama. Thick, and twitching in need of attention. And who are you to deny a King?

Sukuna offered no resistance when you undid the thick obi sash-belt at the top of his Hakama, nor did he fight against the tugging at the waistband to lower them just enough to free both of his cocks. They didn’t spring up from where they were buried, but rather laid heavily against his thigh.

He slips his thumb from your mouth when you lean in, instead moving his hand to brush the stray hairs away from your face before hooking his fingers around the back of your head. Surprisingly, he doesn’t push or shove you but only guides you forward when you press your hands against his thighs to leverage yourself up.

With a slow and tentative lean forward, your tongue meets the warm underside of his lower-second cock. Both twitch in delight at finally being graced with the slick heat of your tongue which carefully traces the vein on the underside, passing over the thick bands of tattoos that reside there too.

You venture a glance up to Sukuna himself, and you’re unsurprised to see that he’s teetering on the edge of taking control once again. His jaw is tight, muscle twitching there whilst his chest struggles to regulate his deep staggered breaths. You can’t help but let the grin take over your face at just how quickly he crumbles beneath your tongue.

But it seems that grinning would be a mistake, as Sukuna flares his nostrils and the fingers at the back of your head hook at the base of your skull. “Do not play with me, dove. I’ll make this miserable for you.”

Involuntarily, your toes curl at the idea of that and you fruitlessly clench your thighs together. Sukuna, ever the observant predator, grins at the apparent desire in your eye from his words and you don’t doubt he can smell your very arousal.

“Of course,” he half-huffs a laugh, a hand coming down to his lap where he takes hold of both of his cocks. “You’ve grown greedy in my presence. I should punish you for it.”

He crudely taps both of the thick tips of his cocks against your cheek, and they slap with a muted wet sound from the near-transparent arousal that leaks from his swollen cocks. It takes everything within you to not move your head to the side, to open your mouth and taste the salty heaviness of it on your tongue. All you can do is let your fingers curl into the fabric still at his thighs.

“But since you did so well, I’ll indulge. Open.” Another harsh tap of his cocks on your cheeks before he manoeuvres just one–the lower one–to your lips, and he crinkles his nose in amusement at the sheen that he leaves behind on your lips as he brushes the tip over them.

Looking up at him from between his knees, you can’t help but let your jaw fall open. Immediately, his eyelids lower just a fraction and that last thread holding him to his sanity is snipped away only to be replaced with raw desire. A nudge to the back of your head has his cock sliding into the warmth of your mouth.

Already you can tell he’s much too big to be in your mouth, not just in length but girth—it made your jaw ache with the effort to keep it relaxed enough to allow him to feed you more and more of his cock before you inevitably gag on it. You’re forced to breathe through your nose once he holds it at the back of your throat, eyes blazing with challenge when your throat protests at the intrusion.

Slowly he withdraws his cock from your mouth, giving you just a moment to suck in a deep breath before he’s shoving his neglected cock in place of the other. It’s smooth against your tongue, and the tip of his cock leaks more pre-cum in the warmth of your mouth.

“Show me just how well you know how to use that poisonous tongue of yours.” He all but purrs the words in a low tone, releasing your head in time for you to choke on a sharp inhale of oxygen.

Instead of rising to the silent challenge, you lean forward again to wrap your hand around his lower cock. It's much warmer against your tongue with the help of your saliva, and you find it easier to suck into your mouth. Sukuna only offers a sharp inhale through gritted teeth when you press your tongue against that vein on the underside of his cock.

You grasp his upper cock with your spare hand, and with a gentle twist of your wrist, you stroke him in time with your mouth. It doesn’t take long for Sukuna’s facade to crack, and he rewards you with a groan. A wounded sound that resembles that of an injured beast. His fingers twitch at the back of your head, burying themselves into the hair at the nape of your neck.

That same noise breaks free from his throat when you lower yourself further onto his cock, the heady taste of it rests heavily at the back of your throat and yet you’re so far from the base of your cock—you wonder if you were to take it all, perhaps he’d reach further into your throat.

Before you can react, two fingers pinch your nose. It has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end, and you flick your eyes up quickly in time to see the demeaning sneer on Sukuna’s face. You should’ve known he wouldn’t be so benevolent to give you complete power over his pleasure.

His hips thrust up suddenly, and his cock is forced further into your throat until you choke. He continues like that, fucking your mouth and huffing out a harsh laugh when he catches sight of the glittery tears that decorate your cheeks. Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth crudely, thick strings of it joining your chin and the loosening training kimono on your body.

Your head grows heavy and light at the same time, dark spots dancing at the edge of your vision as you force yourself to stare him in the eye. You hope he can see the fire he longed to see once again, and perhaps he does because a growl thunders through his chest and rattles at his throat before he throws your head back and away from his cock.

Your hand slips away from the other, and his cocks both slap against his stomach with a wet noise. Your throat hurts, as if you had been screaming for hours on end and with each breath in, your vision slowly clears enough to see Sukuna with a hand covering part of his face as he tries to catch his breath.

“Rise.” He snarls the word, not in malice but in a clear restraint of his desire. His chest glistens with a soft shine of sweat, and the veins in his neck bulge when he swallows harshly. He could’ve fucked his cum down your throat if he wanted, yet he withheld himself from reaching his own pleasure.

You rise from your kneeling position between his knees, and you don’t have to be instructed to begin undressing yourself. Sukuna watches through half-lidded eyes, the rise and fall of his chest is heavy as if he truly can’t catch his breath in your presence. The smooth materials fall away from your body to form a puddle at your feet, his own trousers being pushed down fully to join them.

Sukuna reaches forward, a hand grasping at your thigh to help you climb atop him on the throne. Your knees dig painfully into the hard bones he remains perched upon, but it’s not enough to deter you from the goal you have in mind. You want to ride the King on his throne of power.

You immediately feel the burn at the top of your thighs and in the muscles along your hamstring, Sukuna keeps his legs spread wide enough to cause the strain and to ensure you’re spread widest for him. His fingers dance down along your bare ribcage, pressing into scars and bumps alike until he reaches the width of your hips.

His thumbs press into your flesh, squeezing it mercilessly until they travel further and further down. His fingers traverse past the curls there and he finds himself groaning at just how hot and wet you are for him, spread wide and waiting for him to do what he pleases with you.

Slow as ever, his fingers glide up and down along your lips, gathering your arousal to roll it over your clit before he dips two thick fingers downwards. They stretch you out easily enough, yet the burn is still ever present.

“Still so tight,” Sukuna hisses against your cheek, his head turned just enough to press his nose harshly against the side of your face. His breath is warm against your cheek, coming out in heavy exhales. “You make me want to ruin you. To devour you whole.”

His words are nothing but a deep purr, an emotion to them that sounds so foreign on the tongue of the King of Curses yet you can’t say they seem disingenuous, if anything, he sounds like he’s speaking from his heart.

Those thick fingers continue to explore deep inside of you, scissoring and stretching you wide enough for what's to surely come next. You can feel yourself dripping down his fingers, pooling in the palm of his hands when he cups his hand against your pussy before curling his fingers deep inside of you—repeatedly.

It has you moaning, finally, louder than the groans Sukuna had given you earlier. You pant his name, over and over, like a mantra or a prayer. He doesn’t give in on curling his fingers repeatedly inside of you, the muscles of his bicep and forearm tensed with the effort to ensure you come undone for him in the palm of his hand.

Your orgasm coils quickly in your stomach, sharp and painful before it’s released just as fast as it had approached. You jolt in his lap, squeezing his fingers so harshly that he can’t do anything but stop the motion of his fingers deep inside of you. It feels sticky and unbelievably wet between your thighs, a type of arousal only Sukuna can draw out of you.

Slowly and carefully, he withdraws his fingers from your still-twitching entrance. Your walls spasm uncontrollably as does your stomach, another thing only Sukuna has been capable of reducing you into; a mess.

You watch with bleary eyes when he opens his mouth just a few inches from your own, and that tattooed tongue you longed to feel against your own drags along the length of those drenched fingers. He sucks them into his mouth, almost playfully, grinning all the whilst as you can only watch in fascination—and frustration—when he cleans them of your arousal.

“Sweet,” he speaks once he releases his fingers from his mouth, opting to drag the wet tips of his fingers down over the pebbled nipples of your breasts. Circling them playfully before snatching them in a vice-like pinch, drawing a hiss from you. “Sit on your throne.”

You oblige him, slipping a hand down along the slick expanse of his chest until you find both of his still-dripping cocks. You circle your fist around the lower one, raising it just enough along with your hips to slip the tip of it along the sticky wetness down below. Sukuna doesn’t rush you to seat yourself on him, instead, two of his hands rest delicately at your waist, another playing idly with your breasts and the other stroking his neglected cock languidly.

The stretch, whilst still only one cock, is something you’ll never get used to—and something you wish to feel every day of your life until you’re unable. It burns fiercely but pulls a sinful moan from your lips, your eyebrows furrowed together when you look down to watch the length of his cock slowly disappear.

Once seated deeply on his lap do you release the breath you had sucked in, your head feels heavy already—so lost in the feeling of his cock, twitching deep inside of you. You ground yourself by dragging your hands smoothly over the arms at your waist, feeling the muscles twitch and bulge under your gentle touch.

You settle against his chest, your breasts pressed against him. Sukuna just tilts his head slightly, eyes looking down at you but not in the way he had when you were on your knees before him. Instead, he seems to be admiring you, up close and drunk on the sensation of his cock buried deep inside of you.

Tentatively, you press your lips in a fleeting press to his own. You expect him to grin meanly at your show of affection, or perhaps devolve it into something meaningless. Instead, a hand comes up to cup the back of your neck with fingers threading into the hairs at the base of your skull to hold you still.

He kisses you then. Lips against your own in sensual passes that have your toes curling and your heart fluttering in your chest. Each kiss is slow, languid and doused in something so much more than just carnal desire. He doesn’t press to shove his tongue into your mouth, not yet, as he savours the smoothness of your lips against his own and the soft breaths that flush out of your nose with each passing moment.

But as a man who is unable to keep his cardinal sins on a tight leash, his tongue presses against your lips—testing, waiting, asking for permission. You allow him to pass by your bruised lips, and revel in the feeling of his tongue gently passing over your own. He doesn’t devour you as you had expected, once again surprising you with the gentleness he handles you with. His tongue curls against the back of your teeth, explores the sharp edges of canines and presses against the roof of your mouth until he’s forced to withdraw.

He pants then, hardly noticeable if you weren’t so close to him. He presses his forehead to your own, eyes hardly open as they peer up at you from your seated position on his lap. You stroke your fingers up along his arms, over his shoulders until they loop around his neck. The base of his neck is drenched in sweat when you card your fingers through the hairs there.

His chest rumbles against your own, a deep type of purr that couldn’t ever belong to any sort of beast—none except the beast of a man who called himself the King of Curses. It’s the type of sound that curls something in your chest, a warmth that fills you from head to toe and you can’t help but softly smile at it.

The air of carnal desire has been washed away with something close to passion, and admiration—devotion. It has you squeezing yourself impossibly closer to his body, pressing yourself against him as if his chest may just open up and take you inside so you could live within his heart forever. Sukuna’s deep purr only shatters when you give a tentative roll of your hips.

It breaks like glass into a low under the breath groan, and his fingers tighten at your hips just enough to tell you that he wants nothing more than you to use him for your pleasure. To ride him, to sit atop your throne.

A hand at your waist helpfully slips down to hook just beneath your thigh, long fingers pressing into the crease between your thigh and butt. Only then do you find the power to raise yourself carefully and slowly, dragging yourself up the heated length of his cock until you’re perched precariously at the tip of it.

When you lower back down, sucking in every last inch of his cock, you’re gifted with a groan. Loud, and unabashed. It gives you the courage to keep up the pace, slowly building it up until the slap of your thighs against the top of his is loud enough to compete with the unashamed moans that slip from your kiss-bruised lips.

“Please,” you breathe, still so close to Sukuna that your breaths are exchanged hotly between you. He looks up at you, eyes of red nearly drowning in the black abyss of his pupil. He’s absolutely besotted with the image of you above him, using him for your pleasure. You don’t know what you ask for, what you plead for, but Sukuna groans deep in the back of his throat at the sound of the begging.

“Tell me what you need.” Sukuna’s voice is wrecked, hoarse and gravelly.

“You.” You whine against his lips, a fleeting kiss that is nothing more than just a brush of your lips against his own. “More, I need more.”

Sukuna breathes out an attempt of a laugh, though it’s choked out when you squeeze unapologetically around his length. His fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, tucking just beneath them to hold your entire weight as if you were nothing more than just an object in his hands. You’re forced slightly higher in his lap, now forced to look down at him completely.

“Then you shall have more.” He hisses through gritted teeth, sharpened teeth on display as if he was baring them to his worst enemies.

He fucks into you like he had never fucked you before. His thrusts are sharp and fast, deep and meaningful all in the same stroke. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass has your walls twitching and pulsing, aching to feel the molten warmth of what is promised at the end of fucking like senseless animals.

You look down past the burning eyes that watch you, you catch a glimpse of the thick black tattoos that vanish in a blur inside of you with just how fast he’s fucking you. His upper-first cock is neglected, left to weep against his belly button where it grows evermore wet.

Sukuna practically roars when you take hold of that cock, squeezing it the best you can within your fist. Your fingers most definitely do not wrap around the entire thing, but you try your best to pleasure him as much as you can with your hands. It’s difficult to keep up a steady pace with your wrist when he starts to fuck you harder, quicker—and sloppier. He was getting close.

You twist your wrist as much as you can, stroking along the velvety skin of his cock that continues to leak each time your fist reaches the tip of his cock. From your position above, you can only look down at Sukuna when he leans forward slightly to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He suckles at it mercilessly, no doubt bruising the surrounding skin where it’ll be sensitive to the touch for days.

You moan your pleasure for him, breathe his name into the air to encourage him to snap his hips faster, deeper. “Give yourself to me.” You find yourself moaning the words, and Sukuna’s gaze snaps up to you suddenly. His nostrils flare, and his lips release your abused nipple with a soft pop.

“Anything.” He groans in return, his upper set of arms that were groping at your body wrap around your waist snuggly to hold you against him. His nose presses into the side of your throat, nosing his way up until his lips are brushing against the lobe of your ear. “I’ll give you anything.”

It should be a sensation you’re familiar with by now, the feeling of teeth made for tearing flesh apart sinking into your neck. But it never feels the same. It feels as if he’s ripping you apart, sinking his fangs in as deep as he can before he causes irreparable damage. You can feel the old scars give way, so used to being reopened and sewn back together with the use of his energy.

Sukuna continues to pump into you harshly, his moans muffled against your throat and you only realise the vibration against your throat is actually coming from you—you scream your pleasure, meeting his thrusts with your own until he slams you down harder than before and holds you there.

His cock twitches in your hand, and deep inside of you. Together, he comes undone with the pulsing of your pussy, savouring the squeezing of your waning orgasm as he fills you with the molten warmth of his cum. It coats your hand too, your fingers still delicately moving up and down as if on auto-pilot. Squeezing out every drop of his lust for you until his stomach twitches in overstimulation.

When he releases your throat, he forces your hand away from his cock and holds your hands to his chest. If he’s bothered by you smudging his cum into his chest, he doesn’t air his complaints. Instead, he leans forward, pressing his lips to you in a long embrace. He huffs out another breath from his nose, body dropping back to relax against his throne.

Neither of you move, basking in the blissfulness of your joining. He cradles you against his chest, the stickiness between you will no doubt become a problem once the chill in the air starts to kick in. But for now, you lean into his chest and press your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like musk, dark and rich, undoubtedly male in scent. Yet it’s oddly intoxicating, you can’t help but inhale deeply with each passing moment.

“Bathe with me.” Sukuna eventually speaks, his voice a deep rumble against your chest. You curl further into his body, and he laughs at it. “You’ll only complain when you find my cum in places it should not be.”

You can’t argue with that, so you loop your arms around his neck and lean back enough to look at him. “Then carry me, that’s my condition.”

Sukuna laughs once again, unrestrained this time and it lights up his entire face at just how relaxed he seems around you. His arms grasp at you, hoisting you up against his body when he steps forward and away from his throne. He’s unperturbed by his own nudeness, and your own it seems, as he carries you down the steps towards the spring.

“So very demanding. Being a Queen suits you.”

...

Moonlight drips through the slatted window to the north, spilling across discarded clothes and a misplaced futon. It washes over everything in a gentle white, bathing those seen as unholy in a glowing light. Your eyes are open, watching the moon smooth its delicate hands over the expanse of Sukuna’s back.

He’s asleep next to you, deep breaths falling from slightly parted lips. He looked like he was in a heavy sleep, something that shouldn’t be disturbed. You knew better than anyone that Sukuna needed his sleep, after years of neglecting it so he could stay three steps ahead of his enemy. You can only paint the memory into your mind of his relaxed features and the way his age melts away when he sleeps next to you.

He was beautiful. Devastatingly so. It made your chest ache.

After bathing in the spring, Sukuna carried you all the way back to your shared bed chambers. It had been arranged with fresh hot food and tea, your clothes from the throne room had been returned and neatly folded. As was your sword, it was displayed in a beautiful stand on an ornate dresser that was filled with Sukuna’s finest kimonos and garbs.

You had shared a meal together in dim firelight, the conversation was softer than usual. So intimate that it had your heart filled with an emotion you had never felt in your life before, not truly. You had known parently love, you knew what it was like to be embraced by a mother and doted on by a father.

But with Sukuna, it was entirely different. It was all-consuming, a type of emotion that burned so deeply in your chest that it made you feel nauseous. It made your teeth ache and your eyes glitter in realisation. You loved him. Utterly and truly, you were in love with Sukuna and you yearned to know if he loved you too.

Though as the night progressed, you didn’t dare ask him if he did. Instead, you let him lay you in your shared bed and fuck you like you were the most precious thing to him, perhaps that should’ve told you enough that he loved you. A deep part of you understood that, and yet it made you feel sick. Not in the disgusted sense of the word, but rather you felt sick that you would become his weakness. Just as he became yours.

That thought has you slowly leaving his bed, wrapping yourself in a kimono and tugging on a pair of Hakama pants—you didn’t want to be spotted in anything less than decent by Uraume, or Kenjaku for that matter.

The halls are barren at this time of night, you suspect it to be very early in the morning. Way before the moon is ready to sleep and far too soon for the sun to rise. You wander aimlessly, the further you stray from Sukuna the more you can think clearly.

You couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him, if anything you wanted to celebrate them. To fully allow yourself to feel what love is and what it was meant to be, Sukuna treated you better than your husband ever had. He most definitely had his flaws, and still, he treated you like you were a gift from the heavens.

How would Sukuna react to such feelings? You doubted he had ever experienced love. He never knew love in a familiar sense and he didn’t have women around for his sexual desires—he used them for cleaning, to serve his temple before he satisfied that darkness inside of them by feasting upon their flesh. Perhaps he would be the one to reject it, to deny that such a thing could exist for him. Maybe he’d realise you were a weakness, and the only way to rid himself of that weakness was to ensure you were gone. For good.

That has your blood chilling to ice, and your stomach curling uncomfortably. The thought of Sukuna being the one to land a killing blow on you devastated you, not because you would most definitely die but because you would do nothing to stop him.

You don’t realise just how far you’ve wandered until you notice the snow that had been blown in when the grand doors to the entrance of the temple were opened. Someone had entered recently, or left. You hoped it was Kenjaku leaving, she hadn’t dared to approach you since that fateful night and you were unsure if you’d come out of that encounter without blood on your hands.

Sighing, you realise you should head back to bed. Sukuna always notices your missing warmth next to him, oftentimes you had been tugged into his side and encased beneath two thick arms to ensure you never escaped his side. So you turn away from the temple entrance, but you stop.

A soft sound comes from behind you. You still, waiting to see if it was just the wind blowing against the ancient doors or if it was something more. Then it comes again, and it most definitely sounds like something whimpering, something scratching at the doors.

The thick wooden handle is cold to your touch, and it creaks under your hand when you tug at it with all your strength to battle against the winds that demand the door to stay shut. Snow and wind rush in the second it’s cracked open, blowing against your quickly freezing toes and blowing your clothes back until they plastered against your body.

You blink into the snowstorm, a hand shielding your eyes from the onslaught of snow. You can’t see anything in front of you, only the distant outlines of the mountains that loom in the darkness.

A whimper quickly has you looking down. And there is a fox. A fox of pure white with black markings beneath its eyes and marring the tips of its ears. At your feet it sits with one paw raised, holding it up as if it were injured. Your eyes blink at the fox before you, and that blossoming headache presses against the back of your eyes when you look deeper—

The fox was not just a fox. Deep inside, you could sense a light in its soul. A swirling thing that no doubt could only be identified as cursed energy. An animal with cursed energy—something you would’ve been confused about if you were unaware of the existence of Shikigami.

Perhaps you should’ve closed the door on the fox, to let it die in the snow. A Shikigami no doubt belonged to someone with cursed energy, a sorcerer, but the soul deep within the fox was light. So bright and soft, an innocence that you could only ever find in a child.

Your heart clenches at the idea of a child being lost in a world of curses, deep within a snowstorm with no true understanding of which way to go to find safety. Sukuna had been like that once, and he never mentioned the kindness of someone saving him.

You reach out for the fox, slowly so as to not startle it and it eyes you for a moment. Those beady eyes filled with intelligence dart from your hand to your face before it darts away. It bounds through the thick snow, leaving behind dips where it had dove to get away.

“Wait!” You yell into the darkness of the night, and to your surprise it stops. At the entrance of the temple, beneath a Torii gate. It watches, another whining sound coming from it that sounds like a child crying.

With a tentative look back into the temple, you find no one had come at the sound of your voice and Sukuna had not been disturbed from his resting place deep within the temple. His energy is stagnant, dulled as if it were finally resting.

So you step out of the temple, closing the door behind you with a hefty tug of the handle and you step out into the snow. With each step you take, the fox ventures further and further away until you’re chasing it down the mountainside.

Down into the village below.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#dead dove do not eat #cw gore #cw dark content #cw violence #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

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blusherbaker · 3 months

Text

TWST Kink Headcanons: Heartslabyul Edition

Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios

Each character is given a short write-up of one of their main kinks, as well as a list of other kinks they may like (with a little more info added in some cases), and a list of things they would dislike ^v^

Warnings: Smut, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, food, pain, etc.

| Savanaclaw »——>

Riddle: Submission

Riddle is always a bit contentious in terms of what his kinks may be, some seeing him as leaning towards more dominance-related kinks, others seeing him as leaning towards more submission-related kinks, some seeing him as having completely different interests, and some seeing him as almost totally vanilla. Personally, I think that Riddle would be likely much more towards the submissive side, loving the feeling of being in that headspace. But, he requires a very caring soft dom, maybe even someone akin to a caregiver. Now, Riddle doesn’t necessarily like age play, but he enjoys letting go of control for a bit. He gets so sweet and obedient when he’s being gently guided, cared for, and even coddled a little, but above all, made to feel safe and loved. He absolutely adores submission when he is in an environment where he feels safe enough to let someone else take the reins and have power and authority over him, and this would both give him a sense of security, and excitement at the same time.

Other possible kinks:

PRAISE

Nipple play (he can orgasm just from having his nipples played with)

Biting

Hair pulling

Dominance (he's a sub-leaning switch ♥︎)

Collaring (Prefers his partner in a collar, rather than himself. Works well with his Unique Magic!)

Dislikes:

Humiliation, especially regarding his size or his capabilities

Impact play

Choking

Ace: Brat play

So… we can all agree that Ace would be - really, already is - a brat, right? He’s cheeky, he’s playful, he’s a troublemaker and kind of badly behaved most of the time. He craves an opportunity where he could let that free and already know how he’d be punished and/or rewarded. He’d be SO into letting the full intensity of his bratty side loose. Ace would more or less have the green light to talk back, disobey, tease, and generally be a little shit to his heart’s content, and he’d know that his behaviour would only make things better… for the most part, that is. Because, of course, he really wants to be made to submit. That's where the real joy and excitement would begin for him: when his partner finally puts him in his place.

Other possible kinks (mostly receiving):

Degradation / humiliation

Praise (and bonus points if it's humiliation and praise all in one!)

Masochism

Exhibitionism

Light CBT?

Gagging

Edging

Mental bondage

Dislikes:

Other forms of bondage

Role play

Deuce: Praise

Deuce isn’t the kinkiest boy, but he would LOVE to be praised - absolutely no questions about it. No matter what role he’s in, whether things were leaning more kinky (in terms of what he likes) or pretty vanilla, you give him a little praise and he’ll melt. Well… his heart will melt; his cock will be rock hard. It doesn’t even need to be intense praise, or poetic, or anything of that sort. The simplest phrases, a little comment on how good he’s making you feel, or how happy he makes you, or even just something positive about how he looks or behaves (especially in the bedroom), and that’s it. Even if he was pinning you to the mattress, completely controlling you in every other way, you'd be the one making him feel more pleasure than he'd ever expected. A few sweet words, and you'll have Deuce in the palm of your hand.

Other possible kinks:

Light bondage / restraint (especially handcuffs, or just with hands or body weight)

Domesticity

Lingerie (on himself OR his partner)

Dislikes:

Degradation and humiliation, especially regarding his intelligence

Sadism

Really, most things that could cause physical or mental discomfort for you or him. This sweet boy just wants things to be nice and pleasant for you both (*´◡`*)

Trey: Stuffing

Okay, so… I have a feeling Trey would be really into stuffing. He doesn’t necessarily like feedism; I don't believe he would find the intentional weight gain aspect of feeding to be very enticing. But seeing his partner fill up on his food, or - even better! - feeding it to them by hand DEFINITELY would appeal. He adores the control he has over them in that situation; the intimacy of feeding his partner, and of seeing their body temporarily change because of him, their belly gradually becoming round and taut as they're stuffed full of something he made specifically for them. His slightly sadistic side would also like seeing their expression shift from pleased, to content, to uncomfortable as they ate the dishes he made for them, his gaze intense but his voice soft as he coaxes them to “just have one more bite”. Then afterwards, soothing them with gentle touches and loving words once they're overfull and sleepy… now that would be something that Trey would enjoy immensely.

Other possible kinks (mostly giving):

Sensation play (he definitely uses his UM!!)

Teeth (obviously) - also includes biting!

Orgasm control

Breeding (as a fantasy, NOT reality)

Dacryphilia (crying)

Cockwarming?

Soft domination (possible Daddy kink?)

Dislikes:

Food play (he doesn’t like the mess)

Pet play

Exhibitionism

Cater: Overstimulation

Giving, receiving, it really doesn't matter to him - Cater simply LOVES overstimulation, in any form. Seeing his partner gradually fall apart from his touch and his words, completely overwhelming them with how much pleasure he gives them... or pain... or, pleasure so intense it becomes painful, it's all a dream to him. If you let him, he will gladly make you so sensitive from his touch it hurts, whether from very lightly raking his nails over your skin over and over and over, playing with your senses in other ways, or making you feel so good for so long that you’re begging him to stop. And he can do this all either by himself, or with help from his clones (thank you, “Split Card!”) He also ADORES being overstimulated himself. Probably even more than doing it to you! And this could be in a few different ways, too: teasing him for extended periods of time, binding his body, playing with textures and temperatures on his skin, giving him spicy food, edging, spanking, or - probably his favourite - forced orgasms. No matter the method, though, Cater likes how overstimulation makes him turn off his brain. He never cums as hard as when his mind is filled with nothing but static, the sound of your voice, and the feeling of what you’re doing to him.

Other possible kinks:

Bondage

Sensation play

Dumbification (think for him - he’ll love it ♥︎)

Voyeurism

Being filmed (technically a form of exhibitionism I guess? however, he keeps the recordings private)

Hair pulling

Mirror sex?

Group sex, more specifically clone sex

Orgasm control (especially forced orgasms, as noted above)

Dislikes:

Degradation

Forced feminization

Whew! And that concludes my headcanons for the possible kinks of these 5 Heartslabyul lads. Let me know what you think, and if you have any other ideas or opinions! I'd love to hear them!!

You can read some extra ideas about these kinks here!

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

—ADRONITIS | One

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday's quite aware she has no people skills, but that doesn't stop her from wondering why she can't know everything about one person immediately.

Warnings: None.

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 1.9k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Adronitis: noun. The frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Everyone who knows Wednesday can confidently say she's not a people person, and even Wednesday herself can tell you she's not. People are strange, annoying, emotional creatures that she's fairly certain she lacks a particular trait to handle.

Of course, some individuals have unfortunately made it past her prickly walls. Her roommate and begrudgingly best friend, Enid, can be tolerated in longer spurts. Eugene is just another Pugsley, so she has to look after him. She supposes Xavier isn't dreadful to deal with. Now.

Would Wednesday commit first-degree murder for them? Yes, but that's not the point.

The point—what was the point?

Wednesday internally huffs with annoyance. She's an articulate person, but lately, she isn't.

Reluctantly, Wednesday's eyes trail to the side, where she sees her reason for inarticulation.

"Ah, so this is why you're sitting in the courtyard today," Enid smiles innocently, but Wednesday can see the knowing look in her eyes and purses her lips in a scowl as her eyes return to her book. She's finally gotten her hands on Goody's spellbook, and she's been trying to finish reading it for weeks.

But alas...she's been...distracted.

"I don't blame you," Enid sighs as she looks over to where Wednesday was just gazing. "Everyone's looking at our resident Faerie. I wish she'd sit at our table today."

Wednesday silently agrees but tells herself she didn't. But she did. It's been nearly a week since you've sat with their tiny group of weirdos. Heroes, but weirdos.

Today, you're sitting with the fangs, and Wednesday just can't fathom why. She gets your little rotation schedule, but vampires were so overrated, and from the small conversations she's heard here and there—incredibly boring.

Who cares about their diet? Wednesday thinks they lack innovation if their only choices are humans or animals (because, quite frankly, another outcast could kick their ass).

Yet, you sit there, smiling serenely and nodding with genuine interest. You ask questions and laugh at their witless jokes, and it drives Wednesday crazy.

Wednesday doesn't understand your sense of humor. Although, no one understands Wednesday's sense of humor either. That's usually the pattern. Sometimes, it feels like you and she are two sides of the same coin.

You're both very different at Nevermore. While you're both outcasts within the outcasts, it's not the same. Whereas Wednesday didn't understand people, and they didn't gravitate toward her, people seemed to argue for your time.

Hence, why you sat at a different lunch table every day.

Wednesday's mind drifts as she frowns. There's little known about Faeries as they're usually recluses, and there are so few of them. Especially night faeries.

But now, it makes her wonder. Are Faeries like sirens? Do they lure everyone in their proximity without choice? That would certainly make more sense on Wednesday, and it would explain her recent behavior.

Wednesday frowns deeper. Principal Weems has already sternly told others that while the Faeries are extremely beautiful and charming, they have no such powers.

So, Wednesday was at a loss. She was beginning to think this school was designed to be the bane of her existence. Unwillingly, her gaze drifted again, but this time, you turned your head simultaneously and caught her eye.

You smile soft and sincere but unobtrusively at her, and Wednesday looks away, her face impassive.

It wasn't unusual.

This was exactly how all her interactions with you went. Very often, no words are exchanged, but you smile and wave at her as you pass by in the hallways. You greet her warmly when you sit at their table or in class.

"Your unhappy face is showing," Enid points out, a slight upward quirk on her lips as she bites into her sandwich.

"This is always my face," Wednesday deadpans.

"No, it's not," Enid shakes her head confidently. If there's one thing Enid can say, she stares at Wednesday a lot, so she knows her roommate very well. "You tilt your chin down and glare through your eyebrows more than look through them. It's very protruding," Enid points directly at Wednesday's eyebrow and forehead. "See? Unhappy face."

Xavier is looking at her through his apple, using it to shield how he's holding back his laughter as he grins at her.

Wednesday relaxes her brows, her eyes becoming less narrow before she raises her brow at Enid. "Then what face is this?" The werewolf ponders her roommate's face and then sighs like she's been chastised.

"General distaste," Enid mutters, but then she brightens as she looks up. "Oh, Fae is coming over here!"

"Why do you insist on calling her that when she has a name?" Wednesday asks. You never seem mad about it, and it's not like Wednesday would care if people walked around calling her witch instead of Wednesday, but it's another thing she doesn't understand.

"Hm," Enid hums. "I guess it just became a nickname when she came. I mean, I guess it's kind of weird to call someone by their creature name...should we try to come up with a new one for her?"

"Whatcha guys talking about?" You smile as you approach. You've got a grape lollipop in your mouth given to you by one of the shapeshifters. Xavier and Eugene move over so you can sit down, directly facing Wednesday. "Hi, Wednesday," you say her name so casually, staring at her until Wednesday nods in acknowledgment.

She's tense as she grips the edge of her book tightly. Her eyes are steadfastly attached to the pages even if she's not reading them.

"We're talking about how everyone started to call you Fae," Enid grins, her smile wide and excited, but then frowns. "I hope it doesn't bother you."

You hum for a long moment, a sound that Wednesday hangs onto. She can see you through her peripherals. You seem in deep thought, and Wednesday can't understand why it's taking you so long to decide whether it bothers you. She wants to tell you to hurry it up so she—they can have the answer.

"I supposed it started when one of the psychics saw me in person, and all he could stutter out was 'Fae' over and over," you shrug.

"Feeble-minded," Wednesday mutters, and you smirk at her, and now she's wondering what exactly that could mean.

"It doesn't bother me," you continue on. "I mean, I guess it's fine since there are no other faeries at the school, but it might be confusing when there are. I can't exactly go around calling on a person wolfy when that could be any of the werewolves here."

They all nod, except Wednesday.

"We should try to find a new nickname for you!" Eugene exclaims, emboldened by your friendliness to him. "How about nightcrawler!"

"As enchanting as that is, I'm going to have to veto that one," you give him a wry smile. He slumps in defeat while Xavier gives in a pat on the back.

"Oh," Enid squeals excitedly, and Wednesday shirk and winces at the sound. "We could all try to find a new nickname for you until we get the right one!"

"And why should we if Fae says it doesn't bother her?" Xavier asks as he turns over and gives you what Wednesday believes he thinks is a boyish smile.

"Spoken like a true simpleton," Wednesday cut in, still not looking up. "Will that be your new nickname?"

"Ouch," Xavier laughs, the insult falling off his back. Although, he doesn't doubt that's his contact name on Wednesday's phone. "Alright, I get it. Fine, the person who gets their nickname chosen gets Fae's number. How's that?" He looks over to you, and Wednesday snaps her head up, finally to look at you too.

You seem pensive. Another thing Wednesday knows but doesn't understand. It's getting irritating with how many things are adding up that Wednesday wants to know now and can't.

Nobody in the school has your number though they all see you on your phone as you stroll down the hallway. Wednesday has heard you turning people down when they ask for your number, citing how there've been too many requests, and the number of texts or calls you'd get would be too overwhelming. So, now it's been an unspoken rule between the school that no one gets your number if they cannot all have it.

You peer over at Wednesday, and she doesn't flinch away from your gaze. She refuses to lose whatever staring game you've created.

"Okay," you acquiesce, staring at Wednesday for a moment longer before standing up. "I'll see you guys in class. I'm going to see if the shapeshifters have more grape lollipops. They're my favorite."

Grape lollipops are your favorite. Is it just the lollipop, or is it grape in general?

"Well, this should be fun," Enid bounces her seat before she looks at Eugene. "I'm going to have to say it's looking unlikely for you, bud."

"I have more ideas!" Eugene protests.

"Never accept defeat," Wednesday looks back at her book, inwardly frowning when she's still on the same page she's been trying to read for the last 20 minutes. "Would be an acceptable suggestion for me. Accept defeat in this case, Eugene."

There's more bickering at the table while Enid bumps her shoulder against Wednesday. "So? Are you going to try to come up with something and get Fae's number?"

"No, it's a trivial matter. Why would I want it? The only time I ever use my phone is when you've dragged me into your 24/7 addiction and Xavier cries for my attention."

"I do NOT cry—"

"So, I have no need for it."

Plus, would you expect her to text you if she had your number? Would she even want to text you? Wednesday supposes it'd be an equal trade of information, so you'd have her number too. Should she expect you to text her?

Wednesday glances in her peripheral and sees you with another lollipop as you sit with the shapeshifters. You've got an apple in your hand, but you look at it blandly.

Not a fan of apples, then?

Wednesday feels annoyance gnaw at her insides. It's not irregular for Wednesday to sometimes show interest in others. Knowing others is valuable information that can be used at a later date.

But why in the hell does it take so long to get to know someone? Why can't Wednesday just know all your deep, dark secrets first and then make her way out to the trivial things?

"What a shame," Enid sighs casually, looking straight ahead, but her eyes tilt to the side to stare at her gloomy roommate. "I think having a phone and texting is great! It's way faster to get to know someone over text since you can always be in communication. You know what else is a thing? At 2AM, people lower their guard down, and they're more likely to spill secrets."

Wednesday slams her book shut, standing up and leaving briskly.

Research is needed. Her father has few skills, but one of them is coming up with nicknames. That skill should undoubtedly pass on to her.

Wednesday glances at you as she walks out of the courtyard. You look over at her and smile with a wave before turning back to your conversation.

Defeat is not in Wednesday's vocabulary. She will beat the constraints of time and know everything there is to know in haste. There will be victory, and it will be hers.

PART TWO

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

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vhagarlovebot · 11 months

Text

content warnings: hurt/comfort.

note: hello, hello ! here’s another one of the works i posted on my old blog—not my favorite but i thought about sharing it either way. i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

it’s past midnight when you decide to go to aemond’s chambers, he had agreed to come to yours a few hours before but apparently forgot. in other circumstances you won’t mind, but you’ve missed him all day. seeing him walk through the corridors without being able to touch his hand or simply smile at him, afraid someone would say something that will get you in trouble.

there’s no one in sight as you quickly cross the hallways, relaxing when you’re in front of his door. there’s light coming from under it, so you know he’s awake.

when you open the big doors, you find him sitting at the foot of the bed only with his pants on. “hi.” you whisper when a minute has passed and he hasn’t turn around or acknowledged your presence. “i was waiting for you.” you walk slowly towards him, suddenly worried.

“you didn’t think that maybe i didn’t want to go?” his voice is low and hoarse, still looking at the floor.

you immediately stop after hearing that, not really hurt by his words, you know he doesn’t mean them. there might be something else bothering him, and you know what it is the second he stretches and grunts, his head hanging down.

“oh, love.” you whine, almost running to him. you kneel in front of him, his eyes hidden behind his long, silver hair. you brush it out of his face, finally meeting that breathtaking violet eye. “hello, my prince.”

“‘m sorry.” aemond says with a small and tired smile. he caresses your cheek with his thumb, eye never leaving yours. “i didn’t meant to talk to you like that.”

“mmh, i know.” you see how tired he is just by looking at his face, he can barely keep his eye open. he is always doing too much, but apparently that’s never enough to his family. “you need to rest. would you like a massage? does that sounds good?” you stand up, moving your face closer to his so you can kiss his forehead.

you don’t wait for his answer, already climbing on the bed and sitting behind him, legs on either side of his body. you stare at his back for a few seconds, just seeing how delicate and smooth his skin looks like… how fragile aemond targaryen really is.

you gently massage his shoulders and back, spending a little more time in those places that make him shudder, loving the way he leans into your touch. since you’ve known him, aemond’s not one to ask for help, so this moment means a lot to you.

you know aemond hides a lot of things, some big ones, but at this point in life you don’t care what those things are; you’d do anything for him. anything if that means you can spend the rest of your life by his side.

“you’re an angel.” at first you think you heard him wrong, but he says it again and your heart skips a beat.

you blush, kissing his shoulder blades. “i think that’s you.”

“no, really, you’re always so kind to me and i’m… i’m a monster.” you stop what you’re doing, lifting his chin up and turning his head so he can look at you. “you’re not a monster,” you make sure to emphasize each word. “and you never will be, you hear me? no matter how many times you say that about yourself, i'm always going to be here to remind you of it.” aemond stares intensely at you, smile on his face that says everything you need to know without actually saying it.

"you’re all i care about." he leans in to kiss you and you swear the world stops the moment your lips meet. his lips are gentle and soft against yours, his touch on your cheek grounding you.

when you pull away, his violet eye flutters open. "hi." he whispers, a drunken smile stealing your heart.

"come here." you move to lie down against the pillows, and he follows lying down next to you, his back to your chest. aemond is so much larger than you, so you try to hug him against your chest, pressing kisses against his forehead. and he doesn't need to ask for you to start stroking his hair, he also doesn’t need to say how safe he feels in your arms.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine

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thefallennightmare · 1 year

Text

Arranged-nine

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: Tags for this will be open, just shoot me a message or comment if you're interested!

Tags: @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @broadwaybabe18 @samsgirl93 @cherryflavoureds-blog @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @clqrosmgc @loumaaria-blog @queerqueenlynn @pampeop @cjand10 @purplerain85 @savannahcole99

Arranged Masterlist

The smell of coffee was trapped in my nose as I poured two full cups before setting the pot back, a smile on my face. Thoughts of last night kept replaying in my mind and I haven’t been able to stop smiling since I woke up a bit ago.

Bucky had returned home last night sometime after midnight and let me know with a soft kiss to the forehead before retreating back into his room. When I awoke this morning, there was a note from him saying he had a meeting right away at 10 am but was free the rest of the day so we could do whatever I wanted.

The only thing I wanted to do was pick up where we left off last night before Steve interrupted.

With both mugs in hand, I quickly made my way down the long hallway towards Bucky’s office, knowing I had a few minutes before his meeting and figured he would like a warm cup of coffee to start it.

The door was open so with a soft knock, I walked in only to freeze in place at what I had seen.

There was one man who I had remembered seeing outside of the lab the other day holding open a briefcase that held 10 vials of some kind of blue liquid.

Dr. Banner, I remember Bucky and Steve calling him that.

There was another man, darker skin than the rest, and he stood behind Banner with a hand ghosting over the gun on his hip.

Steve and Bucky were standing across from the two men, them each holding a vial of the liquid. When I walked into the room, both of their eyes landed onto me. Anger filled Bucky’s eyes and he hurriedly placed the vial back into the briefcase before slamming it shut.

His jaw glanced while lips snarled in anger, eyes cutting deep into me.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Bucky asked.

I held up the cups of coffee before setting them down on his desk. “I thought you would want some before your meeting. Clearly it started earlier than you said.”

Bucky gripped my elbow and led me into the hallway, spewing curses falling from his lips.

“Did you even bother to check the door?” He snapped.

I ripped my arm out of his grasp and placed my weight onto my left foot. “Yes, it was wide open and I even knocked before coming in.”

“Go upstairs, I’ll talk to you later.”

I sliced my eyes into him. “Are you going to tell me what I just walked into?”

Bucky grasped my wrist and began leading me towards the stairs which only made me more furious and this time, I yanked myself free while pushing him back slightly.

“Don’t you put your hands on me again!” I pointed a finger at him.

He ran a hand over his face. “Y/N, I’m not saying it again. Go upstairs. NOW!”

I jumped slightly at the sudden change in his voice but didn’t let it phase me.

“Is it drugs? Is that what this whole secrecy is because you’re selling or buying drugs?” I questioned with my arms over my chest. “Was your guy going to shoot the doctor after he gave you those vials? Got what you wanted so now you don’t need him anymore?”

“It’s none of your business,” Bucky began.

“The hell it isn't!” I snapped, my voice without a doubt being heard by the men in his office. “You brought me into this mess the second we signed the papers!”

It had only been a few days but I was already sick of the lies and secrets, I needed Bucky to tell me the truth on what he’s into. I was his wife now.

“Why did you even sign them?!” Bucky wondered, hands on his hips. “You hesitated signing them.”

“Oh my god,” I pinched my eyes shut, a sudden headache rattling my brain. “It was nothing, Bucky; nerves.”

“Bullshit! Why did you hesitate?” Bucky drilled the question again.

“Because I don’t want this!” I screamed. “I wanted to marry someone I love, someone that I can see having a family with. Someone that doesn’t hide shit from me. And someone that doesn’t fucking kill people for a living!”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with hatred at my words. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

I scoffed while standing on my toes. “I thought that after last night we were finally in a good place. I was starting to feel something for you. How fucking wrong I was.”

He sliced his eyes into me. “What kind of woman needs her parents to set her up in a marriage? How pathetic. I’m starting to think I should have found the first broad I found in the city and married her. At least she would give me what I want.”

My heart shattered, falling into the depths of my stomach and I could feel the corner of my eyes well up. But I refused to let him know that his words cut deep. The Bucky from last night was nowhere in sight. This one was meaner and I suddenly wanted nothing to do with this one.

“Go fuck yourself, Bucky. We might be married now but that doesnt mean I have to be seen with you,” I seethed.

With another shake of my head, I left him to go back to whatever he had been doin prior in his office; tears falling freely over my cheeks.

Silence.

That's all that was heard throughout the large home for the last couple of days, me being the only one here. After our huge fight, Bucky left for a business trip, Barb’s words. She was here the first day he left but I told her she didn’t need to stay for me and gave her the rest of the week off.

Something she was grateful for.

Steve had to go with Bucky, meaning that if I were to go out it would be on my own without any protection. Which really didn’t matter to me because I ended up being held up in my room. He had sent me a text earlier today to let me know that he would be arriving back home tonight. I didn’t even bother to reply.

There were some hurtful things hurled by the both of us and it wasn’t something I was going to sweep under the rug. I would be willing to apologize, only if he was as well.

My phone began to buzz on my table and I answered it with a groan, not bothering to check who was calling.

“Well hello to you too, dear. Rough day?”

I sat up in bed more and sighed. “Hi mom. Sorry, I was asleep.”

“Oh sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in and see how marriage life is going?”

“Great,” I lied, not bothering to tell her about the fight. I didn’t want her to think things weren’t great.

Even if they weren’t.

“Good! Your father and I knew Bucky was the right choice for you, you two complement each other so well.”

I shook my head. “Mom, do you even know who he is?”

“He owns the laboratory in town. All the papers say he’s been finding the next cure for some kind of sickness, ya know? He’s such a good man, Y/N.”

“Look, I’m tired and don’t really feel like talking right now. Can I call you later?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, everything alright? Because if it’s not, you can talk to me.”

I scoffed. “No offense mom but the reason why I’m feeling like this is because you guys forced me to marry this complete stranger who you know nothing about! I barely know him and you and dad practically threw me into his arms. Did you even ask if he wanted this? Because he fucking doesnt!”

“Watch your language, Y.N! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”

I squeezed my eyes shut while pressing a hand to my forehead. “I’m really not in the mood to deal with this shit now.”

Before I could hear my mom yell some more, I hung up the phone and tossed it into the drawer of the table next to me. The last thing I wanted at this moment was to deal with her disappointment in the fact that I wasn’t giving this marriage a try.

I went back to the book that I had almost forgotten I was reading before the phone call and let the rest of the night pass with no other issues, that was until Bucky returned home. With my open door, I heard Bucky ascend the stairs, letting out a deep breath once he reached the top. I peaked over the top of my book and looked out into the hallway where Bucky stood with his hands deep into his pockets, tired eyes staring at me.

Even if I was upset with him, he still looked breathtaking in his black sweats with a matching sweater. His usual combed back hair was a mess, strands falling all into his face due to the traveling. His whole aura screamed ‘cuddle with me’ but I needed to hold my composure; I wouldn’t fold first.

My eyes returned back to my book and I heard Bucky let out another deep sigh before he disappeared into his room, the door slamming behind him.

Some time had passed and my eyelids became heavy, sleep slowly overtaking my body and I set the book down, ready to close my eyes and forget about the last week. My phone, however, began ringing non stop in the drawer next to me. I ignored it, thinking it was my mom again, but when it rang for a third time, I knew that it had to have been something more important.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, is this Mrs. Barnes?”

My heart flipped. It had been the first time I heard myself being called that.

“Uh, yeah. Who is this?”

“This is Detective Roth with the NYPD. We’re calling on behalf of your parents.”

I sat up in bed with a quick start. “Are they alright?”

“No, I’m sorry. They’re bodies were found in their homes just a few minutes ago. We believed that they were murdered.”

The detective's voice had become white noise as my brain began processing the new information.

My parents were dead?

Murdered?

In their own home?

I then remembered the phone call I had with my mom just an hour ago and I let out a strangled sob, realizing that was our last conversation. My bottom lip trembled as I let out a shaky breath before the tears began to fall, droplets falling onto the blanket and a loud sob choked its way out of my throat. Tears collected into my eyelashes, and I swatted them away.

“No!” I wailed, tossing the phone across the room. “NO!”

Sobs attacked my entire body as I writhed underneath the blanket, the pain overtaking me as I continued to scream.

“Doll?”

Bucky’s voice was muffled through my sobs and he was blurred due to the tears filling my eyes.

“What’s going on?”

Bucky was in my bed in an instant, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. I grasped at hsi shirt, tears staining it immediately. I sobbed, loudly, as I tried to tell him what happened.

He hushed my cries with a kiss to my hairline and rubbed circles on my back, hoping it would calm me.

“What happened, Y/N?” Bucky asked once more.

I looked up at him, tears falling from my swollen eyes. “My parents are dead. Someone killed them.”

Sobs broke out of me again as my body writhed in his grasp and I buried my face back into Bucky’s chest. I hadn’t noticed the large scowl that came to his face as he wrapped his arms even tighter around me.

“It’s alright, doll. I’m here.” Bucky cooed into my ear.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗮 || klitz x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || klitz is lucky enough to have some really great best friends. he should just be satisfied with that, but instead he can't stop himself from longing to be more than friends with you. the problem? well, there are a few. you're just friends. you're one of the hottest girls in school. the list goes on. some feelings are hard to ignore (and some biological reactions are hard to hide), though, when you show up to the beach looking like that.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || 13.5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || smut (loss of virginity, male masturbation, unprotected sex even though it's literally the opposite of the point of the movie, premature ejaculation (lol), semi-public/almost caught), mild angst?, pining, tons of fluff, the reader has a ~reputation~, slight OC with the readers family/characterization, reader and klitz are in high school, eli is a lil shit but we love him, the entire plot of the movie and the main character of the movie are ignored entirely lmao

the first part of this was already posted on my blog as a drabble but the rest is a (very long) continuation! if you are 18+ please enjoy and feel free to leave a comment or reblog to show your support <3

Do you know how impossible it is to hide a boner in swim trunks?

I mean, seriously— Klitz was worried if he looked at you for more than a second, there'd be a tent in his pants so obvious that Boy Scouts would start trying to camp under it.

"Hey, lookin' good," Eli praised you, and you laughed; he loved your laugh. Of course Eli could handle this, he watched so much porn that his dick was probably half comatose by this point, but Klitz was still an excitable 18-year-old with 20/20 corrected vision and a massive, secret crush on one of his best friends. (The female one, contrary to popular rumors).

"Oh, this old thing?" you dismissed as you laid down between Eli and Klitz on the towel. How was he supposed not to look at your legs, at your neck as you let your head fall back for a moment, at your tits gloriously displayed by the way you propped yourself up on your elbows?

"Somebody call Sports Illustrated!" Eli continued, and you shoved him on the shoulder playfully.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, he could just see it behind the massive sunglasses. You looked back at Klitz, who looked away the second you caught him.

"Yeah, uh," he coughed, "you look good..."

"Thanks," you smiled. "You too."

"Wha— me?" he returned.

"Yeah, him?" Eli agreed.

"You think you don't look good shirtless?" you raised your eyebrows.

"He looks like someone painted nipples on a white T-shirt," Eli frowned.

"Nothing wrong with being pale," you shrugged, "isn't that why we're out here anyways, for a little sun?"

"You think I look good?" Klitz repeated again, still processing what you'd said, feeling his face heat up from more than the beginnings of a sunburn.

"Uh, yeah," you scoffed. "Is that so mind-blowing?"

"It's not his mind that's the issue," Eli noticed, "I think he's worried about blowing in his trunks."

"Hey!" Klitz shouted defensively, but it came out all weak and wobbly and he had to clear his throat.

"Really?" you smiled proudly.

"Yes," Eli insisted.

"No," Klitz denied.

"Whatever, I'm going for a swim," you announced, standing up in front of the towel— giving him a painfully wonderful view of your ass, by the way— and jogging towards the shore. Eli and Klitz watched you dive into the ocean, before the former gave his friend a knowing look.

"What?" Klitz asked.

"Dude," Eli began firmly, "this is ridiculous. You need to just go for it."

"I... no, I shouldn't," Klitz decided for the thousandth time. "She's great, but she's our friend, and if I messed it up it would be so awkward between all of us—"

"You won't mess it up!" Eli insisted. "She's into you! Give her the D!"

"Okay, that's... kinda not what I'm talking about," Klitz frowned, "you're missing the point."

"What other point could there possibly be?!"

"I'm out of here," Klitz groaned, standing up and walking towards where the water vacillated on the shore.

At the end of the day, as the sun was going down and Klitz collapsed into his bed after a much-needed shower, he closed his eyes and saw you first thing. The way you smiled when you laughed, every curve and detail of your body in that damn bikini, your skin dripping with ocean water that reflected the sun like glitter...

His skin was still warm from the leftover heat of the sun, the slightest tint of a tan visible when he compared his stomach to the line on his hips where the trunks had covered. Somewhere across the neighborhood, you were probably in the shower now, untying that string at your back and letting the water wash the sand and salt off your skin.

Out of instinct, his hand was already wrapped around his cock, imagining the way you would wash your hair, run your hands all over your skin— did you touch yourself in the shower? He wasn't even sure if girls did that... sure, they probably do it sometimes, but maybe not in the shower— maybe lying in bed, like this, with your legs spread and your back arching up off the baby pink sheets he remembered from the last time he was in your room. He could just imagine how good you would look with tan lines across your hips and back, around your neck and down your chest... he could trace them all with his tongue, he could hold your thighs open and hear you moan while he tasted you.

His cock was throbbing in his hand already, and he stroked himself faster.

Just as he was really getting into it, his phone rang. "Shit," he blurted out, startled, as he let go of himself and fumbled around on his nightstand for the cell. "What?" he answered flatly when he saw it was Eli calling.

"Am I interrupting something?" Eli said, voice tainted with his grin, and Klitz coughed when he realized he was audibly panting. "Listen, I know you wanna see those pictures I took at the beach."

"I'm good," Klitz dismissed.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do just fine on your own, Romeo," Eli insisted, "but you're gonna wanna see these. I mean, you know she's basically like my sister and I'm still working on half a hard-on over here."

"Dude, that's disgusting," Klitz grimaced.

"Hey, I'm not creeping or anything, she asked me to take these," he recalled; and yes, you had, posing for him and everything— though you had rejected some of his more salacious ideas. Klitz almost laughed to himself as he remembered Eli trying to talk you into posing on your hands and knees. Like a lion, you know, you can snarl and stuff— it's empowering! he'd justified. "I just figured you'd want some of these moments preserved in more than just your memory," Eli explained.

"I mean, we got like, pictures together and stuff, right?" Klitz remembered. "I might want a copy of those."

"Yeah, of course, I've got a best-of compilation of all your hoverhand moments," Eli scoffed, "those aren't the ones I'm talking about. I'm talking about spank bank material— really good stuff."

"You're awful, you know that?" Klitz reminded him.

"You don't want me to email these to you then?"

"No, send it," Klitz sighed.

"Atta boy," Eli grinned, clicking 'send' right away. "All yours, pal, go nuts. Good luck looking her in the eye tomorrow."

"Yeah, I've somehow managed it for the past three years," Klitz mumbled before hanging up; he sat up on the edge of his bed, pondering the level to which he'd sunk for just a second before he got up and crossed the room to his computer. Eli's email had already come through. Subject: You're welcome. 16 attachments.

He sighed and got comfortable in the chair as he opened the first one. Even before he touched it, his cock flexed at the sight of you lounging back on the sand; somehow, he'd managed to forget just how little that bikini covered, just a few pink triangles covering the key parts, two over your tits and one slipping down between your thighs. He clicked to the next one, all but whimpering to himself seeing you laying on your stomach, kicking your feet up, laughing at something Eli had said. Your ass looked great, but he was looking at your smile the most. He wished you'd been laughing at one of his jokes instead, that was the best feeling in the world. Maybe second best, to when you hugged him and he could feel your body against his own...

The next one was taken in the water, you were bending over slightly to reach for something— that curve in your back, that's what he would run his hand over, up and up on his way to grab your hair and pull it back as you moaned loudly for him, begging him to fuck you faster. He'd push your shoulders down, making you bend over even more, he'd hold your hips and tell you how perfect you were.

You were running in the next one, and your legs looked so good he could cry; he could kiss his way up them slowly, until you were so desperate that you grabbed his head and shoved it right into your pussy, and he'd eat you out until you cried.

Klitz, don't stop— you feel so good, you're so good at this— I've wanted this for so long...

He was already ridiculously close, and there were still 12 pictures left. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get through them all before he made a mess all over his hand.

Your tits looked amazing in the next one, it was obvious they were what Eli had been trying to photograph, but he still got plenty of your face in the shot. Klitz jerked off faster, imagining coming all over that chest and face, pulling the bikini top down and out of the way so he could finally see what he'd been dreaming about for years. He didn't just want to see them— he wanted you to show him; he didn't just want to touch them, he wanted you to ask him to, to moan quietly as he did it, to ask him to put his mouth on them...

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he gasped out loud, because it made it easier to imagine your voice in his ear, encouraging him. I'm close too, please don't stop— Klitzy, you can come inside me, if you want, just don't stop!

The next picture was the best one yet; he was in it, and he usually hated seeing himself in pictures, but you were hugging on him and he was laughing and the way you were looking at him... it made him wonder, for a second, if you could feel the same way about him. Because it looked just like the way he thought he looked when he looked at you.

He remembered when Eli took that picture, he remembered how your skin felt on his and how he wished he was brave enough to wrap his hand around your waist— he remembered the next one before he clicked to it, he saw you kissing his cheek as he blushed so hard it was turning his forehead pink; Eli, being the unwanted wingman that he was, had told you to kiss him for the picture, it was your choice to go for the cheek, but Klitz was on cloud 9 either way. Maybe if he was more of an asshole, he would've turned just in time to catch your lips with his— but then again, if he was an asshole, you'd probably not be his friend. He might just be one of the guys you went out with for a few weeks and then cried on Klitz's shoulder about. Believe it or not, Klitz preferred being this guy, the guy stuck at his computer jerking off as he imagined you. He might never get to touch you the way he wanted, tell you everything he wanted to say or make you feel as amazing as he knew you really were... but at least he could make you happy. You were laughing in the picture, after all, and you looked so beautiful.

He choked out your name as he came suddenly, much harder than he anticipated, eyes shut tightly as hot liquid started to run down over his fingers...

When he caught his breath and opened his eyes, your picture was still on his computer— and there was jizz all over his keyboard.

"Fuck," he groaned, looking around for tissues or something; he settled for a dirty t-shirt on the floor, and made a mental note to himself to insist to his mom to do his own laundry this week as he wiped up the mess he'd made.

Just then, his phone beeped with a text message, and he picked it up to see your name with a heart beside it.

I had fun today :)

He was still trying to come back to reality, and avoid the impending guilt for his ulterior motives. I had way too much fun today, he imagined replying, if he were more honest.

Me too, he sent back instead, Eli's pictures turned out great

you saw them already?? jealous!

He hadn't meant to give himself away like that... Ask him to send you the best ones, Klitz suggested to you. He set his phone down to keep cleaning up the embarrassing scene, but you replied quickly

all he sent me was the ones of us together with the title "hottest couple at westport high"

Klitz swallowed thickly when he saw that, wishing Eli would back off and let Klitz handle his crush on his own timeline... he was still only two years into his five-year plan— you can't rush art! LOL Klitz replied, hoping to keep it casual and vague.

too bad we're not a couple :( you sent back... Klitz wrinkled his eyebrows together when he read that, not really sure what you meant. Did you mean like, too bad we can't be a couple because we're such good friends? Or were you just kidding? He read it a thousand times in four seconds, trying to figure it out, until you sent in one more text.

yet ;)

Oh, that’s it— right there! Harder! Fuck me harder!

His hand was a blur over his cock, his eyes shut tight, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat and starting to get pins and needles. He was so close, so fucking close, and the image of you was right there in his mind— you wore his favorite skirt of yours today, the tight one that showed a glimpse of your thighs when you crossed your legs. Right now, he was busy imagining that skirt rolled up to your waist as you bounced on top of him, head tossed back in a cry of pleasure. While his free hand clutched at his sheets, he was thinking about both his hands running up your legs to grab your hips, moving you just how he wanted.

“M’gonna come,” he warned with a gasp, bucking up into his own hand.

Yes, Klitz, he heard your voice in his head, I want you to come— come for me, baby, come inside me—

“Ohhhhhh my god,” he choked, whimpering slightly as the pleasure hit him suddenly and sharply, right in his gut; he slowed his movements down as he came, sticky spend coating his length as he panted like he’d just run a marathon. His face was hot as hell and probably beet red, but it always got like that when he came hard thinking of you and felt that guilt sink in a second later.

He was so sure you’d freak out if you knew he did this… you’d think he was such a creep, and really, you’d be right. You’d stop being his friend, you’d stop hugging him, you’d stop talking to him— you’d definitely stop sending him cute texts and joking about how it’s too bad we aren’t a couple.

Groaning, he covered his face with his arm. Why did you have to say stuff like that, were you just trying to drive him crazy? You were doing it more lately, and he kept laughing it off awkwardly every time you did it— what else could he do? But those texts, he hadn’t stopped thinking about them since you sent them two days ago; well, he hadn’t stopped thinking about them until he saw you in that skirt today. And then he was only thinking about that until just now.

Right at that moment, his cellphone rang. Of course it was you; just his luck. He cleared his throat, guilt swelling in his chest, and grabbed the phone to flip it open and answer. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it very far into that plan when he noticed his hand was still covered in come and he’d smeared it onto his phone, now, too. Grimacing, he pulled away and found a tissue box by his bed (like any prepared high school boy would have) to start wiping it all up. Just before it would’ve gone to voicemail, he got enough of it cleaned up to answer while he quickly tried to clean the rest from his lap.

“H-hey,” he greeted thinly.

“What took you so long to answer?” you wondered.

“I was in the backyard, sorry,” he bluffed.

“Oh, well, have you finished the term paper yet?” you asked.

Yes. “No.”

“Great! I thought maybe you could come over and we could work on it together?” you suggested. “I’m just, like, totally stumped on how to write a good conclusion paragraph.”

“I’ll come over right away,” he offered, “i-if that’s okay…”

“Yeah, totally,” you hummed happily.

He loved being able to walk to your house. It could be a bit of a nuisance in the middle of the night when he was randomly compelled to run over and throw rocks at your window and tell you everything; it could also be a nuisance when you came to his room, sneaking in through the window looking for some trouble to get into. But overall, he enjoyed having you so close, just across the neighborhood, and it made studying together like this really easy.

When his cell started ringing in his pocket, halfway into his walk, he pulled it out to see it was Eli calling.

“What’s up?” Klitz asked when he answered, still walking as he talked.

“Wanna come over?” Eli asked. “I got this great new tape I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“I can’t, I—” Klitz began, darting his gaze around his view of the neighborhood and hoping to come up with a good excuse by the end of his sentence.

“You’re going to her house again, aren’t you?” Eli sighed.

“Yeah,” Klitz admitted.

“I thought you said you were gonna stop doing that so much until you got over her," Eli recalled.

"That was the plan, but then…" Klitz trailed off.

"Then?"

"Then she asked me to come over," Klitz groaned, hearing Eli's exasperated cry from the other end of the line.

"Dude, seriously," Eli scoffed, "you've gotta stop being such a simp!"

"I'm not a simp, she's my best friend," Klitz insisted.

"No, I'm your best friend, she's the girl you've been in love with since we were freshmen and still don't make a move on," Eli corrected.

"I can't just make a move! You know I have no chance with a girl like that— I wouldn't even know how to make a move, I don't have any moves."

"Either get over her or get under her, man, but I can't listen to you whine about this anymore," Eli decided. "She's kinda slutty, isn't she? Why don't you just ask if she'll sleep with you?"

Klitz swallowed thickly. Yes, you had a bit of a reputation. He didn't mind that; he didn't like that people spread rumors about you, but he wasn't surprised by it anymore either. He knew that you acted like you were fine with that attention, even wanted it, but that you'd really gotten your feelings hurt a few times. And, he knew that if he asked you to have sex with him, assuming he had a chance solely because you were known to put out, you'd hate him because you were just like all the guys who used you and tossed you away. He wanted so much more than just your body, if he didn't he wouldn't have stayed your friend so long.

He remembered when you hooked up with Tate Winters because he said he broke up with his girlfriend, only to discover it was a lie when his not-ex wrote SKANK on your locker in permanent marker. The school janitor tried to clean it for hours, which only brought more attention until he finally gave up and just painted over it— and then nobody could forget it happened until the "wet paint" signs were gone. And as if that weren't enough, apparently Tate's best idea to get back on his girl's good side was to tell the whole school you had a loose pussy and secretly stuffed your bra. You tried to laugh it all off at school but when you and Klitz were alone, you cried for hours. He held you until the shoulder of his t-shirt was totally soaked and you just fell asleep.

"She's not a slut," Klitz corrected Eli firmly.

"Well, I don't know what else you call it when a girl gives it away more than the fuckin' Salvation Army," Eli joked.

"She's… a little adventurous," Klitz conceded, glancing at the house he was walking by and noticing the garden had a new ceramic gnome, "but that doesn't mean she wants anything to do with me."

"You won't know until you try," Eli pointed out. "Just wait until she does something stupidly-hot— which you know she will at some point because she's always doing that kind of stuff—"

That, he did know.

"And then just let her know you're down to clown!" Eli finished, like it was an obvious sort of solution. "I mean, if she sleeps with all those guys—"

"She does, that's exactly my problem," Klitz replied. "She's got all this experience and I'm a virgin. She likes guys who actually know what they're doing."

"Tell her you wanna learn from the best," Eli suggested.

"That's weird," Klitz frowned.

"Tell her you have a terminal disease and your dying wish is for some pussy," Eli offered instead.

"That's so much worse," Klitz shuddered.

"Whatever— honestly, it's really your own fault now," Eli scolded. "She's not just gonna fall in your lap, Klitzy, you gotta go for it."

"Hm, I think I'll just keep doing nothing and die alone, but thanks," Klitz decided.

"Okay," Eli sighed defeatedly, "but I'm telling everyone at your funeral that you had a chance not to be a virgin forever but you were too afraid to do anything about it."

"Appreciated," Klitz grumbled, hanging up just as Eli started to warn him that you would probably bring a super hot new boyfriend of yours to his funeral. It was just in time, too, because Klitz was just then turning off of the sidewalk to make his way up the path over your front yard right to your house.

Still holding onto his backpack’s strap on his shoulder with one hand, he leaned forward and knocked on your door which opened a second later.

“Oh, hi there, Timothy!” your mom greeted him with a smile.

“Hey, Mrs. S,” he nodded in return, suddenly noticing she was wearing a nice dress and jewelry. “You… look lovely, is it a special occasion?” he asked, afraid it would come across too forward, but she laughed in a flattered sort of way and he was relieved.

“You’re such a sweetheart— we’re just going out to dinner,” she explained, the other half of the ‘we’ already obvious before your dad showed up beside her. “Honey, Timothy’s coming over to work on that term paper she mentioned—” she began to inform him.

“Riiiight,” your dad nodded as he recalled something you must have said to them. “Good to see you, Tim,” he offered even though nobody called Klitz ‘Tim’, and when he extended his hand for a shake, Klitz almost reached out but suddenly hesitated. He’d only had time for a Kleenex wipedown, not a real wash with soap and water, since he’d busted all over that hand thinking about this man’s daughter. But he wasn’t sure he could get out of it, and so, with a suppressed cringe, he shook your father’s hand with as much enthusiasm as he could feign. Kill me kill me kill me—

“Come on in!” your mom offered, stepping aside for him to enter the foyer, which he did. “She’s upstairs. Help yourselves to snacks if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” he nodded to her as they started to step out the door. “Enjoy your dinner!” he offered with a wave.

“Such a polite young man…” he heard your mom’s voice trailing off just before the door shut on its own; Klitz sighed. Your parents liked him, which would be a boost to his chances to date a lot of girls— but not you, the chronic rebel. For the most part, you were well-behaved as far as teenage daughters go: he’d never seen you get wasted at any parties and you got good grades and everything, it was just all the guys you dated… he figured your parents must not know about most of them or they’d be a lot stricter with you. Wouldn’t any good, old-fashioned suburban parents freak out if they knew their daughter had gone out five times with a guy who inexplicably has had tattoos since sophomore year— or if they heard that rumor (which he happened to know was true) that you and Jake the quarterback had hooked up in his dad’s truck?

Bounding up the stairs, Klitz navigated to your room where he found you laying on your bed, on your stomach with your head propped on your hands and your feet kicked up and swinging slowly. Eli had shown Klitz some foot fetish porn once, at which point Klitz had sworn he did not have a thing for feet— which was true, except that the day after that he’d noticed you were wearing platform flip-flops and had your toes painted with a flower shape on them and there was a silver bracelet around your ankle (you informed him sternly when he mentioned it that it was an ‘anklet’ not a bracelet) with a sun charm and, well, he still didn’t think feet were actively sexy, but if anyone had sexy feet, it was you. And there they were, lackadaisically swaying in the air— your toes were painted today, too, and instead of an anklet you had a toe ring on, and he could help but imagine what it would be like if you ran your foot up his leg—

When you noticed him in the doorway, you smiled up at him and slid shut the magazine you were reading. “Hey,” you beamed.

“I thought you were working on your paper,” he remembered with a frown.

“I decided to wait for you to get here,” you laughed as you sat up on your bed. “And, you know, I was checking to see if this Seventeen issue was going to give me any inspiration to write about the War of 1812.”

Klitz just smiled and rolled his eyes, sitting down next to you on your bed at exactly the moment you suddenly stood up.

“Ugh, you know that thing where you can go all day acting fine and then suddenly the tag on your shirt is trying to kill you?” you sighed, and Klitz nodded in agreement. You were more sensitive to that kind of stuff than he was, but he get what you meant. “Anyways, point is, I’ve been wearing this stupid top all day and I can’t focus.”

“Okay,” he mumbled; he liked that top, it was tight enough to show off your figure but not so tight that he’d be tempted to get jealous. Best of all, it had words written in sparkly lettering across the chest, which gave him a socially-acceptable reason to look at your boobs for three seconds when he first saw you at school this morning.

“I’m gonna get into something more comfortable, m’kay?” you explained, but he didn’t understand that you meant literally right here and now until you started to lift your shirt. He looked down with wide eyes, swallowing thickly as he saw your tanktop land on the floor… and then your bra right beside it. Jesus fucking Christ.

He stared at the floor so intensely that he felt like he was about to burn a hole all the way into the living room below. He couldn’t stand it when you did stuff like this— well, he loved it, but he hated it, too. You were right there topless and if he had a bit more courage and a bit less respect for you he could just look up and see you. But even just knowing that you were stripping in front of him made his cock twitch, so he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool if he actually saw anything.

You walked to your closet and rifled through some things, apparently settling on something because he could hear you pop it off the hanger and slip it on over your head. He didn’t look at you until he was absolutely sure it was safe, which was when you plopped down next to him and made the mattress bounce a little. It was a forest green hoodie, with yellow letters across the chest: YALE.

“H-hey,” he choked, “isn’t that mine?”

“It was,” you grinned cheekily. You were wearing his clothes, you were wearing his clothes, this was like his biggest dream and worst nightmare coming true at once. He knew this image was going to burn in his mind and he was already looking forward to his next chance to jerk off to the thought of it; it was like every domestic fantasy coming true, his dream girl in his hoodie—

“I thought I lost that,” he laughed nervously.

“You did, and I found it,” you shrugged. “I meant to tell you that you left it here but, then I forgot… and I’ve been wearing it as pajamas.”

You were sleeping in his hoodie. You were, like, 90% of the way to being his girlfriend at this point, except for all the key parts such as liking him back and kissing him and letting him take you on dates and stuff. Maybe he should just be happy with this— after all, somewhere out there are plenty of guys wishing you were wearing their hoodies right now and not Klitz’s, right? Actually, probably half the guys at school would kill to be here right now, in your bedroom, on your bed, watching you cover your hands with the ends of the sleeves.

Difference is, some of those guys actually have a chance with you.

“You’re not, uh, dating that insanely ripped dude anymore, right?” Klitz stammered out.

“Who— Frank? God no, he was a creep,” you rolled your eyes, “which, like, yeah, I kinda knew going into it, but I guess I thought he’d lighten up a bit. But he was so rude and like, pressuring me and stuff…”

Klitz tried not to react to hearing that, but he hated to imagine it so much.

“I mean, I’m no virgin,” you scoffed, “not since the summer before junior year, but like, back off, you know? He was always bitching that we couldn’t do it at my place.”

“You couldn’t?” he realized, a little relieved that he wasn’t sitting on the bed where you and Frank might’ve banged.

“I’m not allowed to have guys in my room,” you explained.

“Uh, I come over all the time,” Klitz noticed, “your dad literally just let me in here.”

“Oh, you don’t count,” you mentioned in passing, and Klitz sighed in defeat; he was such a non-threat that your parents basically forgot he was male. How comforting. “Anyways, I dumped him because he was annoying and dumber than a box of rocks.”

“Those seem like good reasons,” he mumbled, not really sure what to say. If he sounded too congratulatory, he might seem creepy himself, so he wanted to stay semi-neutral.

“I think the next guy I date has gotta be smart,” you decided suddenly. “Like, not necessarily an intellectual, definitely not condescending about it, but smart. And nice.”

Smart and nice— would you also be willing to accept scrawny and pathetic with permanently sweaty palms?

“And no more guys who go to the gym five times a week, I don't care what anyone says, that's not indicative of sanity," you added.

Wow, I can only bench forty-five pounds, guess I'm your dream guy! If only I wasn't so… me.

"Anyways!" you chuckled, exhaling with a hint of exasperation. "This paper… where do we start?"

"Well, what do you have so far?" he asked, and you pulled your paper up to read aloud.

You cleared your throat before you read dramatically: "In 1812, the War of 1812 began."

This is gonna be a long night…

He was pretty sure he blacked out for a second when you hugged him that tight. He laughed nervously when you pulled back, still resting your hands on his shoulders. “Yay!” you smiled wide. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I finished the paper this early! Thanks, Klitzy.”

“Oh, sure,” he shrugged, and you took your hands away even though he wasn’t done memorizing the way they felt yet.

“And it’s only 8:30,” you noticed as you glanced at the clock, “my parents probably won’t be back until 10. Wanna stay longer and, like, hang out? Ooh, we could put on a movie,” you suggested. “We’ve got popcorn and stuff.”

Sometimes you put your head on his shoulder when you watched movies together. “Sure,” he agreed quickly. “What should we watch?”

“How about you go microwave the popcorn and I’ll pick something out,” you decided, and Klitz gave you a thumbs-up in approval of your strategy.

A couple minutes later, Klitz was in the kitchen watching the bag rotate and inflate inside its little food prison, while you were on your knees going through your dad’s movie collection. You’d shown him where to find a bowl for the popcorn when it was ready, and he carefully pinched the bag by the edges to open it and start dumping it out into the plastic container.

When he carried the bowl back into the living room, now full of nutritionless high-sodium deliciousness, he found you bent over to push the tape into the player. Clearing his throat, he let himself only glance for a second, except that when he got to the couch to sit down, your ass was literally at eye-level directly in front of him. You were still wearing that skirt, too, and it was riding up as you bent over to show the back of your thighs; lord have mercy…

When the movie started to play, you grabbed the remote and hopped next to him, sitting just a little too close to him in the most painfully perfect way.

It was a scary movie, he could tell by the music even though it had just started. He just hoped he didn’t humiliate himself by screaming like a girl or something. He reached for a handful of popcorn at the same time that you did, and your fingers brushed against his inside the bowl. Jesus, was he really this sensitive that that would turn him on? At least the bowl in his lap would hide anything—

“Stop hogging it!” you giggled as you pulled the bowl away, but you yanked too hard and some of the popcorn spilled out onto his lap. “Oh, fuck, sorry…”

You started to brush the popcorn away, running your hands all over his pants as he sat there frozen. Do not move a fucking muscle Klitz, he commanded himself internally. Wow, your hands on his thighs felt amazing; he had to fight not to shudder visibly.

“Gosh, I’m kind of a hot mess tonight,” you sighed, “at least popcorn doesn’t stain.”

Grabbing a final remaining white puff from right on top of his fly, you gingerly popped it into your mouth and smiled.

She’s eating your dick corn, man, go for it! the voice of Eli appeared independently in his head.

Ew, what? his own internal voice replied.

As the movie went on and the popcorn bowl was depleted and discarded, he managed to mostly pay attention and not get too distracted by how pretty you looked lit only by the dim blue glow. The movie itself was pretty boring, not too scary, but it did have some gory parts that made him cringe as you covered your eyes. However, over time, both of you were drawn into the suspense— the shadows, the tense music, the promise that the killer was lurking just behind the corner— and when he jumped out of nowhere brandishing a chainsaw, you both jumped a bit and then laughed at each other.

“You’re not scared, are you?” you asked.

“No,” he assured. “It’s creepy, I guess, but not like… scary.”

“Ooh, you’re so tough,” you teased with a poke to his ribs, and he moved away with a laugh.

“Stop,” he whined softly, laughing harder when you poked him again. “You know how ticklish I am, don’t mess with me!”

“Knowing how ticklish you are is exactly why I wanna mess with you,” you explained, poking him repeatedly on the shoulder.

“Yeah? Well, I know how ticklish you are, too,” he warned you, “and I’m stronger than you, so, you might not wanna start something you can’t finish.”

“Is that a threat?” you raised an eyebrow, reaching for his ribs again, but he grabbed your wrists and started to tickle your legs first. You cried out in delight and tried to fight back, but the more you laughed the easier it was to pin you down and dig his fingers into your ribs or stomach. “Stop, stop!” you begged through laughter so hard it brought you to tears, and he finally relented— he knew from experience that you would not hesitate to kick him anywhere you could reach to get him to stop.

There was a second right after he stopped, and right as your smile started to fall, that he realized how… sexy this whole thing was. Maybe it was just because it was you: your inherent hotness could make anything sexy, you could probably scrub a toilet sensually if you needed to. Still, a guy on top of a girl while her parents aren’t home, a movie on the TV, tickling each other… any other guy and girl at school and it would probably end differently. But, he knew you and he knew himself and he knew how this story was going to end: a chaste hug goodbye, a scream into his pillow, and his dick in his fist while he whispered your name.

He awkwardly maneuvered away from you, and you sat up straight again just to scoot closer one more time. It was peaceful again, for a while— he kept imagining putting his arm around your shoulders, but other than that it was fine— until another jumpscare on screen shocked you both.

You yelped and buried your face in his chest; he willed his heart not to beat faster, in case you could hear it, but it didn’t work… even he could hear his own heartbeat now, it was throbbing in his ears as you cuddled up into him and clutched at his shirt.

He couldn’t understand why you did this stuff— was it just a joke to you, hunting for sport? It seemed like you knew he had a crush on you, Eli had probably given it away with his aggressive attempts to wingman, and now you were, what, toying with him?

“Protect me,” you whimpered, and he knew then that you were fucking with him, and after three years he decided he’d just about had enough. Frustrated, he grabbed the remote and paused the movie, standing up briskly to force you to peel off of him. “What’s wrong?” you asked from behind him on the couch, and he just sighed.

“I— maybe I should go,” he said suddenly. “I have to work on my paper, too, you know.”

You stood up then, standing next to him, looking right at him. You looked so hurt. This was why he never stood up to you, because he hated seeing you upset— and knowing he’d hurt your feelings made his heart break. But at a certain point, he needed to defend himself. “Klitz, seriously, don’t go,” you breathed, “it’s dark and I’m gonna be all freaked out after watching that movie, you can’t leave me alone—”

“Are you making fun of me?” he blurted out, turning away.

“What?” you pressed. “Klitz, I don’t—”

“Can you just stop?” he winced. “I get it, I’m not like the guys you go out with, you don’t have to… rub it in. And you don’t have to make me feel stupid for having a crush on you.”

“Wait, hold on,” you interrupted, grabbing his shoulder and turning him to face you, “start over. You do have a crush on me?”

“Yeah!” he yelped. “Obviously!”

“I didn’t think I was your type,” you explained.

“My type? You know you’re gorgeous,” he stated plainly, “everybody knows.”

“Oh,” you smiled shyly, “that’s… not true, but it’s sweet.”

Klitz waited for a second, not sure what to say; you weren’t rolling your eyes and telling him to get over it, I was just being funny— you weren’t apologizing and admitting you went too far, either.

“Eli said some stuff before, it made me wonder if you really liked me or if you were just being nice,” you admitted. “And then we went to the beach together and… well, you looked really cute in your trunks…”

He blinked at you, speechless, and waited for this to all start making sense. You clearly meant cute like a puppy or baby— girls had called him that before, and he knew it wasn’t really a compliment when they said it like that, it was demeaning. How could his ‘cute’ compete with your beautiful?

“And honestly I’ve been into you for ages but I didn’t want to say anything,” you rushed, covering your face with your hands like you were embarrassed to say it. “God, I mean, we’ve been friends so long and I just didn’t want to mess anything up if you didn’t feel the same way—”

“Is this… huh?” Klitz asked in a mumble.

“Klitz,” you sighed, dropping your hands and stepping closer, looking up at him. “I like you,” you explained, “like… you know, not just in the normal friend way. Wow— sorry, I’m really not good at this, usually guys ask me out so I don’t have to do the whole love-confession thing.”

He gave you a wide-eyed look, and you seemed to realize what you’d said.

“N-not that I’m in love with you!” you rushed. “I mean, I’m not saying that I’m not— I’m just not saying that I am. Because that would be an insane thing to say— damn it, Klitz! I was trying to make it obvious so I wouldn’t have to say all this and you still ignored me!”

“What do you mean, ‘make it obvious’?” he repeated.

“Like, changing in front of you and putting on a scary movie and suggesting we go to the beach just so I can wear a bikini I bought because I thought you might like it—” you enumerated.

“I just thought you were teasing me,” he coughed; why was it so hot imagining you trying on bathing suits, looking at yourself in the mirror and wondering if he’d think you looked good? You could’ve worn a trash bag and he would have thought you looked amazing, but the bikini was still a nice touch.

“Klitz, that’s flirting, I was flirting,” you clarified with a frown. “You were so immune I thought you were just trying to let me down easy.”

“I’m not immune,” he admitted, “I’m just… incredibly stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” you insisted, stepping closer again and grabbing his shirt, tugging until he looked at you sheepishly. “Klitz, you’re super smart, and funny and sweet, and you’re so good to me— I just didn’t want to lose what we have, you’re my best friend. But I’ve been, uh, kind of thinking about you all the time for a while now. And I really wanna kiss you right now.”

Finally getting over himself for a few seconds, he grabbed your face and kissed you first. You tasted like lip gloss and minty gum, and when he took a deep breath in and kissed you harder, he could smell your shampoo. Best of all, he felt you smile against his lips; he hadn’t kissed a girl since 9th grade and she had braces and smelled like zit cream— not that he could really blame her for that, everybody looks awkward in 9th grade— but that had been pretty underwhelming and this was everything he imagined kissing was supposed to be. You melted a little and leaned your head back, opening your mouth wider: did you want him to put his tongue in your mouth? He hoped so, because that was what he was going to do— slowly at first, until you nodded slightly and he really went for it. He wasn’t sure how to be good at this, so he tried to not do anything too adventurous so he’d at least lower the risk of being actively bad at it.

You were really good at this, though; so good he was trying not to have too strong of a reaction… but it was tricky when you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer, humming contentedly into the kiss. Were you always like this? He knew you’d dated quite a few guys, he’d had the privileged honor to see you make out with a few of them when they were particularly obnoxious and had to show you off in the middle of the cafeteria. Then again, he’d do the same if he could. If he was currently capable of remembering anyone else in the world even existed right now, he would happily kiss you in front of all of them.

Tugging him back with you, you pulled him onto the couch as the kiss went from demure to desperate in seconds; the feeling of his weight pressing your body into the sofa cushions was already incredible, and then your arms wrapped around him and your hands started to slide up his back and it was like you were in complete control of his body. He didn’t mean to moan your name but it just slipped out, he was trying not to get hard but it was impossible to avoid, and he couldn’t even stop himself from moving his hands lower to rub your legs.

Speaking of your legs, they spread when he touched them, slowly and sensually exactly like he’d dreamed it. Groaning lowly, he slid his hands up higher to where that skirt was wrapped around your thighs and ventured far enough to push it up slightly.

“I want you,” you whispered, and it was so incredible that it jarred him out of his trance; he pulled back and looked down at you, his best friend laying there beneath him on the couch, just waiting for him to take you…

“Hold on,” he shook his head, “I— I don’t think we should do it like this.”

“Huh?” you sighed, sounding a little hurt.

“No— I mean, I… I want to,” he assured, feeling his face heat up a bit as you stared up at him, “I just— I wanna, like, take you out and stuff. Like, we can go to dinner, or catch a movie— we can go to that drive-in you wanted to check out—”

“Fuck that,” you grumbled as you roughly pulled him down into another kiss, needy and sloppy with your fingers tangling into his hair.

He whimpered when your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer until he couldn’t hide that he was hard anymore; it was grinding up against you, and you moaned at the feeling— and Klitz realized that this might be the first time in his life he was supposed to have a boner.

“We’ve been waiting way too long to do this,” you explained as you broke the kiss to start tugging his shirt up over his head. “I can’t wait until after a date, I need you right now— please?”

You were actually asking him, like he was doing you a favor; stunned, he simply nodded and finished taking his shirt off before he kissed you again. When you broke the kiss again, he was only disappointed for as long as it took him to realize you were lifting that hoodie of his up— he hoped his face wasn’t as idiotic and dumbfounded as it probably was while he stared at your boobs, buuuuut he didn’t really have the brain power to care. You were struggling slightly to get it off while still laying down on the couch; maybe it would’ve been smoother if he tried to take your top off for you, but it was so sexy watching you do it— you wanted him to see you, you were undressing just for him. It was so perfect that it was probably just a dream but he didn’t mind as long as he didn’t wake up.

“You can touch me,” you whispered as you tossed the balled-up hoodie away, and he certainly didn’t need to be told twice. With a small gasp at how genuinely perfect you were, he grabbed your tits— as gentle as he could manage, of course— and bit his lip while he kneaded them in his palms. You moaned softly, closing your eyes, and he took a second to study your face before focusing his eyes again on your gorgeous chest.

He remembered a few times that your nipples had gotten hard enough to poke through your shirt— at school, at late-night study sessions when you were already in your pajamas, or at the beach when the cool breeze blew and that little bikini did nothing for you— and he’d imagined what they might look like based on their silhouette through fabric. They were better than he could’ve thought, and they were getting harder between his fingertips. Unable to resist, he bent down and captured one in his mouth, hearing you moan louder as he swirled his tongue around it. How could your skin taste so good? Did you use frosting as lotion or something? Wow, that was an oddly erotic mental image…

Moving across your chest to the other nipple, he suckled harder until he heard you gasp out his name. That had to mean he was doing something right, right? It was certainly encouraging, and made his cock throb inside his pants.

Licking a long stripe up your chest to your neck, he heard you giggle and felt your fingers tug lightly on his hair. “Klitzy, fuck,” you sighed, “you’re— you’re not how I thought you’d be…”

“Really?” he hummed against your skin, loving the way you writhed under him when he kissed just under your ear, or right where your neck met your shoulder. He would be so content spending the rest of his life memorizing your body to find those spots that made you moan and whimper.

“Yeah, I— I thought you’d be shy, but you’re so…” you trailed off with a wistful sigh. “I mean, you’re really sweet, but you’re driving me fucking crazy, too.”

He sat up a bit so he could look down at your face. “In a good way, right?” he hoped.

“Yeah, in a good way,” you smiled, grabbing one of his hands and moving it down your body. “I want you to touch me,” you explained, spreading your legs even more beneath him as you moved his hand up your skirt, “I want you to feel what you do to me.”

Panting like he’d just run a marathon even though he’d just been laying on your couch all night, he kept his eyes trained on your face as his fingers slipped into your panties and explored the silky-smooth folds of your pussy.

“Oh, you’re… you’re really wet,” he noticed, and you smiled wide. How can it feel this good just to touch it?

“Mhm,” you agreed, biting your lip. “I always get like that when I’m with you.”

“Fuck, really?” he choked, and you nodded. “Oh, wow… I wish I’d known that. Actually— maybe it’s better that I didn’t. I would’ve lost my mind.”

You were so warm that he was losing his mind anyways— he couldn’t even imagine how you would feel around his cock, even though his brain really wanted him to try. Were you really about to go all the way, tonight? It was sudden, in a sense, but then again he’d been quietly in love with you for years, so… maybe it was actually kind of slow.

He made an embarrassingly high-pitched noise when your hand suddenly slipped down to rub on the bulge in his pants.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, losing his focus on touching you and needing to grip your thigh just to stabilize himself.

“I knew you’d be big,” you mumbled to yourself as you started to open his button and then unzip his fly. His dick was fighting to bust right out of his briefs, and you reached down to hold his balls in your palm through the fabric; a massive shiver ran up his spine when you gently dragged your nails all the way up from there to the very tip of his cock, and he couldn’t stop himself from shakily whispering your name.

Looking much too proud of yourself, you sat up a bit and started to pull his pants and underwear down until his cock bounced freely and proudly— Klitz himself was less proud, not necessarily embarrassed but definitely a little overwhelmed at the feeling of your eyes on him. He realized that no one else had really seen him naked, and thankfully no one had seen his erection before (though he’d had a few close calls while jerking off due to parents allergic to knocking first). It was mildly terrifying, but he was soothed to say the least when you bit your lip at the sight and looked up at him with wide eyes. You looked impressed, and he decided he would remember this moment anytime his confidence ever faltered: he had no reason to doubt himself ever again because there’s a massively hot girl looking directly at his cock and staring up at him like she’s seen something incredible.

“Jesus, Klitz, what were you doing hiding this monster from me all this time?” you smirked.

“I-is it really that big?” he wondered, sure you were just flattering him.

“Of course it is,” you insisted.

“I mean, I’ve seen porn and stuff— it seemed kinda… normal to me,” he shrugged.

You laughed out loud, and he felt his cheeks warm up a little more as he wondered what he’d said wrong. “Klitz, ‘normal’ for porn is absurd for real life,” you explained. “I mean, the women in those movies, are their tits ‘normal’, or are they huge?”

“They’re definitely bigger than most— ohhhh,” Klitz nodded as he realized what he’d somehow failed to put together. Porn was his only exposure to other dude’s dicks, so how was he supposed to know?

“You really thought this was average?” you chuckled, squeezing his shaft just enough to make his balls tighten up. “Baby, you’re hung.”

He couldn’t help but beam proudly at that. “Oh… really?”

You smiled back at him with a nod, starting to stroke him slowly. Your hand was so soft, your fingers so nimble and delicate, and the way you stroked his cock was much too slow but just right to keep him desperate and needy.

“Oh god,” he sighed as he started to rock into your hand, shutting his eyes tight and hearing you giggle a bit.

“How does that feel?” you asked gently.

“It feels so much better,” he blurted out, under his breath.

“Better than what?”

“Better than when I do it to myself,” he continued with a tilted smile. “Which is impressive considering I have… a lot of experience.”

“How often do you jerk off, Klitz?” you wondered coyly, and he knew he had no shot to lie to you with you looking him right in the eye like that.

“I don’t know,” he stalled for a moment, “maybe twice a day? Sometimes more…”

You hummed, leaving it sort of ambiguous if you thought that was disturbingly high or not, but he was in no position to backtrack and pretend it was less while you had his dick in your hand. You lightly ran your fingers up the length of his cock and back down again, teasing him until he struggled not to whimper aloud. “Do you ever think about me?” you asked, almost sounding shy— like you were afraid he would say no. What the fuck else would he think about?!

“Always,” he choked out, voice wavering when you twisted your hand right as it moved over the tip of his cock— there was precum running down already, smoothing your movements and making everything all sticky and slick.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you sighed.

“You don’t think it’s creepy?” he pressed.

“No, I mean, I couldn’t judge,” you shrugged. “I do it too.”

He blinked quickly. “You do?!”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I lay in my bed at night, I spread my legs, I smell that hoodie I stole from your lock— I mean, that you left in my room…”

You were still stroking him slowly and carefully, but with you talking like that he honestly thought he could come right now— but if he did, it would spray all over your face and chest, which should’ve been a deterrent but somehow just made it even more tempting.

“I imagine how you would sound when I put your cock in my mouth,” you continued. “I fuck myself with the end of a hairbrush, just to feel full—”

“I-I don’t know if I can take this,” he stammered.

“Get down here, stud,” you giggled as you laid back on the couch again, grabbing his arm to pull him down on top of you. You kissed him again, and he delighted in the feeling of his bare chest against yours— and then moaned when he felt his cock press up against your pussy, sliding over the slick lips when he involuntarily rocked his hips.

“Can I…?” he asked, trailing off.

“Can you… what?” you teased, and he tried to ignore his repressed upbringing for a second to not be embarrassed to say it.

“Can I make love to you?” he whispered, and you smiled wide.

“Oh,” you sighed bashfully, “I thought you were gonna ask if you can fuck me.”

“I mean,” he choked, “that too— I guess…”

You nodded; he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think the odds were better than not that you would say yes, but he still breathed shakily in response. Reaching down between your bodies, he grabbed himself at the base to guide towards your hole— one of the benefits of having seen some porn before this was actually having a pretty decent idea of where everything was. He shivered as he pressed his cock up to your opening, shutting his eyes for a second to compose himself.

“Are you, uh… are you sure?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “are you?”

“Definitely,” he promised. “I just sort of can’t believe this is really happening…”

“Me either,” you smiled, “in a good way.”

“You… know I’ve never…” he began, but you nodded again.

“I know,” you whispered, “I wanna be your first— if you don’t mind.”

“N-no, not at all,” he replied, “this— this is all I ever wanted…”

And there it was, right in front of him: one little push of his hips forward and he was going to be inside you. What if it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, what if sex is actually pretty lame? What if the moment he does it, he suddenly realizes he’s actually gay— is that how that works? What if he screws it up and you never talk to him again? What if he’s patient zero for some terrible STD you can only get from virgins, what if your pill suddenly stops working and you get pregnant, what if—?

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching up and resting your hand on his cheek; it soothed him, and he sighed as he looked down at you and forgot every anxious thought in his head. “You okay?”

“Never better,” he promised, and maybe the timing was kinda wacky but he finally did it: he held your hips tight as he pushed into you, immediately feeling the wind knocked out of him. You were… tight, and warm, so warm— and smooth, but also sort of not considering the ridges of your walls that created this addictive friction on his cock…

You were perfect, in short. And as he pressed his hips up to yours, he knew for certain that this wasn’t a dream or a coma fantasy or a Total Recall-type situation— this was real. Nothing had ever been this real before.

“Oh my god,” you sighed, head dropping back on the couch. “Fuck, Klitzy— you’re so big…”

He couldn’t stop himself from starting to move already, even though he heard you hiss in a breath like you were still getting used to it. It was just too good and his body was running on instinct now, something primal and natural and slightly delusional.

You moaned again, louder, and held his shoulders tightly. “You feel so good,” you whispered.

“You do too,” he managed to find the brainpower to whisper back. He heard you whimper when he moved a little faster, already chasing this high that felt so incredibly in reach and he just knew it would be perfect— he couldn’t slow down, he’d never needed something like he needed this. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “yeah, oh god, don’t stop— you’re just the biggest I’ve ever—”

His cock throbbed before you even finished your sentence. “D-don’t talk like that,” he hissed, “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to last—”

“It doesn’t matter,” you promised, “just come, fuck, I wanna feel your come in me, Klitz.”

And that was how Klitz lost his virginity to you and came in literally eight seconds. As his face burned incredibly hot at the realization that he’d blown his load in less time than it takes to flip a pancake, he sighed and dropped his head onto your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out instantly, “fuck, I— I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” you breathed, “hey, it’s fine— it’s… really hot, actually.”

“Shut up,” he groaned.

“No, really!” you insisted. “It’s sexy, Klitz— fuck, you’re so sexy…”

Okay, at this point his prevailing theory was that he’d encountered a genie some time today, who granted his wish to transport him to an alternate reality where his gorgeous best friend suddenly thinks he’s super hot, but also erased his memory of making the wish in the first place. Except, if he’d done that, he would’ve also wished to be a sex god who made you come so hard you gained mild omniscience during your dozen consecutive orgasms— and instead he was just a two-pump chump who couldn’t even return the favor after you made him feel so incredible. So he was back to square one again.

“Hey,” you said again, softly, lifting his face so he would be forced to look down at you. He stared into your eyes, and he felt you in his arms, and he was still inside you— and he wondered if anything could ever be this perfect again. “It’s really okay,” you promised, “you’ll last longer next time.”

“There’s gonna be a next time?” he realized, and you nodded happily.

“I mean, I hope so,” you smiled. “If you want to…”

“But I was bad at it,” he pointed out.

“Sex is like literally everything else— you get better with practice,” you explained. “And I think we’re gonna have to practice a lot… you know, just to really get super good at it.”

He just couldn’t help himself; “Wouldyoumaybewannabemygirlfriendorsomething?” he rushed out.

“Huh?”

“Um,” he cleared his throat, “I was just asking if you might want to be my girlfriend. A-and I could be your boyfriend.” He added the last part just in case you were about to suggest that some other guy could be your boyfriend instead— not that you would do that, but Klitz wanted to be really really sure. You smiled up at him and his heart was like putty in your hands.

“I’d love to,” you beamed. “Actually, I kinda thought I already was… what, with you coming in me and everything…”

“Y-yeah, there’s that,” he mumbled, smiling nervously.

He turned his head when he heard a noise outside, it was hard to describe— sort of crackly like TV static? He figured out what it must be when he saw your eyes go wide in shock: an electric car on a gravel driveway. Specifically, your dad's electric car on your house's gravel driveway.

"Fuck!" you yelped, both of you dashing to get off of each other and find your discarded clothes. Klitz was trying to get his mostly-still-hard dick back into his pants, which was a bit of a struggle, while you rolled your skirt back down and tried to turn the hoodie right-side out again.

He was still looking for his shirt— why did he have to toss it away so dramatically, was he going for distance or something? — when he heard a key in the door and thought his heart might fall out of his ass.

You found the shirt just in time and tossed it at him unceremoniously, giving him just enough time to navigate which limb to put in which hole as he fell down onto the couch beside you and with about a nanosecond to spare, you two were posed like a couple of chaste little Bible study kids, sitting next to each other with your hands in your laps and friendly smiles on your faces.

"Hey guys, how was dinner?" you asked your parents sweetly.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. S," Klitz waved at them.

"Hi sweetie," your mom cooed at him. "Dinner was lovely, honey— how'd your paper turn out?"

"We… finished it faster than I expected," you answered, and Klitz nodded in agreement.

"Were you watching a movie?" your dad asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, "hope you don't mind us borrowing your tape—"

"No worries," he assured. "How was the movie, was it good?"

"It was amazing," Klitz replied.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you smiled shyly, clutching your hands together as the two of you stood outside of your front door.

"Yeah," Klitz agreed with a contented sigh. He didn't think he'd ever seen you looking so… demure, maybe even innocent. It might've just been an aftereffect of having to play it cool in front of your parents just now as they told you about their dinner and asked Klitz a bunch of questions about how his parents were doing and Yale and stuff.

After giving him a split second of a mischievous smirk, you pushed him back against the door and slammed your lips onto his, kissing him hungrily. Okay, so definitely still not innocent…

You pulled away sooner than he would've wanted— he wanted to kiss you for hours, really— and placed your hands on his shoulders gently when he tried to chase your lips with his own. You looked around for a second as you stepped back, making sure no one was nearby before you reached under your skirt and pulled your lacy panties down your legs; you stepped out of them gingerly and stuffed them into his pocket with a grin.

"Something to remember me by, hm?" you offered.

As if anything could ever make him forget this.

Holding tightly onto your panties in his pocket, he walked home on a cloud. He whistled, he'd never whistled as he walked before.

The tune stopped only when he stepped inside his own house again and found Eli at the kitchen bar, happily chatting up his mom who greeted him quickly while she cleaned up after dinner. “Oh, hey Eli,” Klitz nodded; Eli was the type to show up unannounced, this wasn’t anything new, but it was more surprising when he’d been in his own head the whole walk home.

“Hey, Klitzy,” Eli returned, smiling. “I was just stopping by because my mom told me to bring your mom some book about yoga or something— but she said you’d be home soon…”

“I figured you wouldn’t be out too late if you were just studying,” Klitz’s mom pointed out, seeming to have a slight ulterior motive with the statement. “You seem to go over to that girl’s house a lot—”

This is normally the part where Klitz would defensively say she’s just a friend, Mom and she wouldn’t really believe it because she loved her son too much to properly understand that a guy like him and a girl like you wouldn’t get together. Of course, that wasn’t really as true now as it was the last fifty times, but he also didn’t want to immediately blurt out that you’d just become his girlfriend because, well, for one, it was a little pathetic to tell his mom that just a few minutes after it happened. Secondly, she’d probably ask questions Klitz was not at all in the mood to answer. Thirdly, Eli was here, and maybe it wasn’t the right time to tell him, either; and, finally, if his mom knew you were his girlfriend and not just his best friend, she’d probably start coming up with new rules about curfews and doors left open and bla bla bla— the last thing he needed was any obstacles to get to you now that he finally had what he’d been dreaming about for years.

“We’re really close,” Klitz finally decided to say, and that seemed to satisfy his mom enough to dismiss the two boys to Klitz’s room.

“I told you, I don’t wanna watch your tape,” Klitz began as soon as they were alone, sitting down on his bed with a sigh as Eli made himself comfortable in the chair by the desk.

“No no— I’m not gonna make you watch anything, I didn’t even bring it,” Eli promised. “I really was just here to deliver the book, and I figured I could say ‘hi’ and ask you how the study session went.”

Klitz sighed slightly, looking away. Truth be told, Klitz wanted to tell Eli what happened, and he never imagined not calling his best (guy) friend first when he lost his virginity. But he never imagined he would lose his virginity to you— okay, he actually imagined it a lot, he just never thought it was an actual possibility— and as a result now suddenly had to consider the repercussions of blabbing about it to Eli. Wouldn't it be wrong to kiss and tell, especially considering some bad experiences you'd had in that regard? Especially considering Eli knew you and cared about you?

“Uh, it was fine,” Klitz shrugged, “we finished the paper— and I already did mine before I got there. Have you, uh, finished yours yet?”

“Almost,” Eli answered, “just need to figure out how to do the thing in Word that makes it all spaced right— do you know how to do that?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll show you,” Klitz offered, making a move to cross the room to his computer so he could demonstrate rather than try to explain it in words.

The thing was, while Klitz had decided he wouldn't tell Eli what happened while he was at your house, apparently fate had other plans. When Klitz stood up just then, he didn't even feel something fall out of his pocket.

"Dude— are those panties?" Eli mumbled, pointing to the lacy black thong on the bed. Klitz scrambled to grab it and stuff it back into his pocket, but it was too late. "Oh my god, Klitzy— how did you end up with a thong in your pocket?"

"I-it doesn't matter," Klitz stammered, feeling his face heat up.

"How could it not matter?!" Eli sputtered. "Who gave you those?"

"Nobody!"

"Did you take them?"

"No!"

"Are— wait," Eli stiffened up and cleared his throat, "are… those yours?"

"Are you asking me if I wear a thong?!"

"I mean… I'm gonna try not to be judgmental," Eli offered, "to each his own, right?"

"No— no!" Klitz denied. "They're, well… I just got back from—"

"Oh, shit," Eli seemed to figure it out, "did she— did you— are you guys—"

"Something happened," Klitz offered.

"Dude, you know I'm not gonna be satisfied with that," Eli rolled his eyes. "You don't have to tell me everything, just tell me what base you went to— first, second…?"

Klitz waited, and Eli's eyes widened.

"Third?" he continued, quieter, amazed when Klitz still said nothing. "H-home run?!"

Slowly, Klitz nodded, and Eli yelled emphatically like he actually was at a rowdy baseball game. "Shh!" Klitz hissed. "My parents are downstairs!"

"Sorry, I just— I'm so happy for you, man!" Eli beamed. "I can't believe you two finally fucked!"

“We made love to each other,” Klitz corrected, his face burning hot enough to cook an egg.

“Oh shut up, that’s gay,” Eli rolled his eyes.

“That’s gay?” Klitz repeated. “Me, a hot-blooded American teenage boy, having sex with a beautiful girl, is gay?”

“Whatever,” Eli rolled his eyes, which was the best he could do to admit obvious defeat in an argument. “My point is— good for you, man.”

Eli sunk his shoulders down slightly, suddenly getting a bit more serious.

"I know I mess around with you a lot. And I know I was pretty hard on you for not going after her for so long… but it's just because I knew you'd be good together— and I knew she was into you, I just couldn't get either of you to realize it!"

"Huh," Klitz said as he narrowed his eyes, "you know, you're more perceptive than I thought, Eli."

"Tell me everything," Eli demanded.

"You just said I didn't have to tell you everything," Klitz recalled.

"I changed my mind— I need to know now," Eli decided. "Just… tell me what it's like."

"What, sex?" Klitz wondered, sighing when Eli nodded quickly. "Uh, well, it's sort of hard to describe…"

"People always say that," Eli rolled his eyes.

"It's… it's like," Klitz searched for the words. "It's like a hug? But… wet."

Eli grimaced slightly. "That sounds kinda gross."

"But it's not," Klitz insisted, "and— and when she looks up at you it's like nobody else has ever existed. I never really felt like a man before that."

"And you do now?"

"Uhh, mostly," Klitz sighed. "I'm still, you know, me."

"What did her tits feel like?" Eli grinned.

"Okay, you're done," Klitz rolled his eyes, standing up. "Go home, show's over—"

"No, wait, come on," Eli pleaded, "just one more thing— just tell me one more thing! Are you gonna do it again?"

"I asked her to be my girlfriend, and she said yes," Klitz smiled slightly. "So, yeah, I really hope so."

"That's perfect," Eli announced. "You two are gonna be so good together."

Klitz's chest warmed because, yes, you were. Somehow he was sure of that, uncharacteristically unworried that it might all go horribly wrong. This was you; things always went right for him where you were involved.

Thankfully, Eli respected his privacy enough to leave not too long after that, on the condition that they find time at school tomorrow to talk more about how it all happened. The moment he had the room and house to himself again, Klitz collapsed onto his bed with a dreamy sigh, equal parts exhausted and energized— it’s a difficult feeling to describe, but he was all shaky and his head was spinning and it was euphoric. She’s my girlfriend, he kept saying to himself until he really believed it. Part of him was afraid to go to sleep in case the universe returned to normal tomorrow; really, he just didn’t want today to end yet. He thought about texting or calling you, but what would he say? Would it be too cheesy to admit he missed the sound of your voice?

Deciding to just take a much-needed shower instead, Klitz finished the rest of his nighttime routine and slipped into bed— normally, he would hope to dream of you that night, even if it left him with a sticky situation to clean up in the morning. But now, it didn’t matter as much, because he was going to see you tomorrow and his mind was overwhelmed with the possibilities of how it might go. Yes, a small fraction of his mind forced him to imagine that you’d pull him aside in the hall to say it was a mistake, that you two should just be friends again, but he didn’t really expect that after everything you’d said. He couldn’t decide if he was going to kiss you as soon as he saw you, or wait for you to do it first. Would you want to hold his hand in the hallway or be more discreet? Would you let him take you out on a date this weekend, or were you going to be impatiently desperate again? (Not that he was going to complain either way.)

Eventually, he realized that thinking about it was useless and that the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner tomorrow would come and he could see for himself what would happen when the two of you reunited. But he had one more thing to do tonight before he could fall asleep: wrap those panties around his cock and jerk off to the memory of how perfect you were.

He did last longer next time, just like you said he would— fifteen seconds, rather than eight. He’d even jerked off beforehand to try to increase his time but the way you looked up at him as he slid inside you, biting your lip and begging him to fill you as deep as he could go… yeah, he barely got a chance to gasp out something about how beautiful you are before he totally lost it. In his defense, you really did your best to drive him over the edge as fast as possible. You brought that upon yourself, really.

Then there was your genius idea to fool around in the school library, in that one section nobody ever goes to except to do this— you managed to avoid getting seen by any teachers or the security guard, but a junior did catch you two just as he was starting to reach up under your shirt. It should’ve made you both jump away from each other and try to act casual but Klitz doubled down; he wanted every student in this school to see this, if they could— see him and his girl, because honestly, they might have to see it to believe it.

He wanted them to see that you’re so obsessed with each other you can’t even wait until school lets out; he wanted them to see that you don’t just let him touch you under your shirt, you beg him to, and moan his name when he obliges.

Admittedly, he kinda didn’t want them to see when he came in his pants from said library excursion… but whatever, you didn’t mind— you were still insisting you were into that, and he was going to stop trying to convince you otherwise.

Instead, what most of them saw was the two of you sitting closer than normal at the lunch table, his arm around your waist or your head on his shoulder. Eli liked to tease you two about it sometimes, but thankfully for the most part he was just the same as usual. He was pretty supportive— if anything, a little too supportive, considering he liked to ask invasive questions and even ‘jokingly’ floated the idea of a threesome, to which you ‘seriously’ agreed just to freak him out and prove he was all bark and no bite.

In a moment, all of Klitz’s most common dilemmas were gone: it was okay to be turned on by something you were wearing, and he didn’t have to hide it anymore (except to prevent you from teasing him more and giving him a problem he couldn’t solve until he got home from school); he was allowed to look at you, and hug you and kiss you, without worrying if he was being weird; he no longer tortured himself with the possibilities, the fantasies, the anxieties, and just enjoyed being your boyfriend, maybe more than anyone’s enjoyed being my boyfriend before you told him once.

Instead, he had a new dilemma: how was he going to ask you to prom?

#klitz x reader #klitz smut #klitz x you #klitz fanfic

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kwanisms · 1 year

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Kinkuary 24 Joshua — role play // office sex

➥ CEO!Reader x secretary!Joshua (role play)

summary: Y/N & Joshua have decided to implement role play in their bedroom activities and what better use of their home office than to play out a CEO and secretary fantasy? wc: 1.5k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): oral (f receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, desk sex, role play, office sex, use of pet names (sugar, doll, baby, etc), mild degradation, Shua is a cocky bastard and the reader tries to keep control. I think I got all the warnings, but if I missed any, please let me know! Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan Seventeen taglist: @aikisbbq @niktwazny303 @indigo35 @moonlightsora @witherednotes @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @yeosayang @katsukis1wife Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Taglist is closed!

a/n: I don’t have many notes about this one but I’m tagging yoonguurt to torture her. I hope you enjoy this part! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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“Mr. Hong, could you come in here for a moment?” You called, looking down at the papers on your desk. A moment later, Joshua poked his head into the room. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asked, smiling when you looked up.

You waved your hand, beckoning him in and telling him to shut the door behind him. Joshua shut the door and moved to stand in front of your desk as you set the folder you’d been looking through on top of the desk.

“Did you cancel my meetings, like I asked?” You asked, leaning back against your chair, fixing your eyes on the man before you. He nodded silently, keeping his hands behind his back. “Words please, Mr. Hong,” you said suddenly.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Yes ma’am,” he answered, clearing his throat and waiting for your next move. He still didn’t seem to understand the rules. You’d have to remind him.

What looked like a typical CEO-secretary relationship was actually one of many role plays you like to share with your boyfriend after discovering you both had an interest in it.

The CEO role was usually reserved for Joshua but he conceded to let you try out the dominant role for once, exercise some power control over him, something he rarely let go of. Joshua didn’t relinquish control often.

Deciding to change tactics, you sighed and got to your feet. “I’ve told you,” you started as you walked around to stand in front of the desk, leaning against it. “You can call me Y/N.”

Joshua merely smiled politely at you. “That seems a little informal, ma’am,” he answered, emphasizing the last word. ‘He agrees to relinquish control but he’s gonna act like a brat?’

Joshua eyed you carefully, taking in your body language. It wasn’t in your repertoire to take control, even when you were on top, Joshua was still in control. It was fun for him to see how you tried to keep what little power he let you have.

Yes, let you have. Joshua could take control back in the blink of an eye but only because he knew you too well. He knew if he pushed this brat role a little, he’d frustrate you to the point of letting him have control back.

Or so he thought.

“You seem pretty uptight,” you commented. “Like you can't relax around me.”

Joshua shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it comes with the job,” he answered. “Keeping things professional,” he added as you stood up and walked towards where he stood.

“Oh, I think you just have a stick up your ass,” you quipped, making his brow arch. “Oh?” He asked, fighting a smirk. “Do you think about my ass a lot, ma'am?”

You rolled your eyes. Suddenly you grabbed him by the tie. “Do you have a smart remark for everything I say?” You asked, dragging him back towards your desk. You must have caught him off guard because he stumbled momentarily before regaining his footing but only just before you pushed him down into your chair.

“Well this is unexpected,” Joshua said as he looked around. “Am I the boss now?” He joked. You rolled your eyes yet again and moved to stand in front of him, resting your ass on the desk.

“Have you ever slept with your bosses before?” You asked bluntly.

Joshua snorted. “Can’t say I have,” he answered. “They’re mostly old men. Not exactly my type.” Your eyebrow raised, a small smirk pulling across your face.

“And what about me?” You asked, leaning forward slightly. Joshua fought the smirk that tried to form. “You certainly aren’t an old man,” he answered. “I meant am I your type?”

Joshua studied you for a minute before answering.

“Nope.” You could have smacked him upside the head for that.

You sighed, scooting back onto the desk, placing your feet on the armrests of the chair, letting him catch sight of your naked form under your skirt. But only for a moment. “And now?” You asked, noticing how his gaze lingered.

Finally he looked up to meet your gaze. “I should report you to HR immediately,” he answered. “This is surely against the company’s code of conduct,” he continued.

You leaned back, resting your palms against the cool wood of the desk. “But you won’t report me, will you?” You asked, smirking as he shook his head. “And why not?” You pressed. You wanted him to give in and stop playing around.

“Because I don’t know where the HR department is here.”

You were getting frustrated but you knew this is what he wanted. He wanted you to get frustrated and to give control back to him. You weren’t an idiot.

“You and those smartass remarks,” you said, reaching forward to grab his tie. “Yes ma’am, I'm told they’re my best quality,” he answered. You shook your head. “I think your best quality is when you shut up and do as you're told,” you said softly.

“But I—”

You cut him off quickly. “I can think of three better uses of that mouth of yours. Wanna know what they are?”

That seemed to shut him up. He nodded, looking up at you with curious eyes.

You leaned back again, showing off your soaked center. “One,” you said softly, moving your hand to grab his hair firmly and guiding his face between your thighs.

Joshua’s hand grabbed your hips as he dove in, tongue ravishing and exploring your cunt, teasing your clit and suckling on the sensitive nub. You let out a moan, leaning back onto your elbows.

Each flick of his tongue over your clit had your body shuddering as your fingers slowly combed through his hair. “That’s much better,” you sighed. “No smart remarks now.”

Joshua tried to pull back but your grip on his hair tightened. “I didn’t say you could stop,” you hissed. Joshua froze and you could almost see the cogs in his brain working as he tried to fight against his urge to take control.

Finally, he relaxed and dove right back in, tongue dipping down to tease your entrance. “Good boy,” you purred. Your thighs shook as Joshua groaned against your pussy. “Keep calling me that and we’re gonna have problems,” he said, glancing up at you.

You narrowed your eyes, urging his mouth back where you wanted it.

“I’ll call you whatever I want,” you retorted. “You aren’t the one in charge here”

The moment the words left your lips, you knew you’d made a mistake.

Joshua pulled from your grasp, getting to his feet as he towered over your form on the desk. “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” He asked, pupils blown and your essence smeared across his lips and chin.

“Joshua,” you started, trying to remain in control but your boyfriend clearly had enough of your game.

“No,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you off the desk. “It’s not Joshua,” he added, turning you roughly and bending you over the desk, pushing your skirt up to your waist as he undid his pants, pulling his hardened cock free from its cloth prison and rubbing the tip against your folds.

“Then what do I call you?” You asked, cheek pressed against the hard wood of the desk. You felt the tip of his cock barely push past your labia. “Sir,” he answered.

“You can call me ‘sir.’”

Without warning, Joshua slammed into you, making you scream at the sudden intrusion. “I’ll teach you to tease and play with me, you little slut,” he grunted, his hips setting a brutally fast and merciless pace, pounding into you from behind.

“S-slow, Joshua!” You whimpered, brain melting at the speed and force of his thrusts that you forgot to use the correct term. “I mean s-sir!” Your backpedaling didn’t work and of course Joshua heard you.

He gave you a particularly sharp thrust, your thighs hitting the desk at the sheer force. “Nice try, doll,” Joshua retorted. “I heard that.”

You were no stranger to rough sex when it came to Joshua and you always welcomed it. He didn’t lose control like that often, normally keeping his composure but every great once in a while, he just really needed to fuck you. And hard.

This was one of those times.

Your orgasm, which had been building slowly as he ate you out, came barreling down, crashing into you as Joshua continued to fuck you through it. Whether he was punishing you or chasing his own high you’d never know.

His thrusts were always well timed, hips never faltering and you didn’t know how he did it, keeping his composure right until the very end.

As you came down from your high, Joshua continued his onslaught, cock pistoning in and out of your wet cunt, your cum coating his shaft.

“Look at that, sugar,” he said with a scoff. “I’ve barely fucked you and you’ve already cum all over my cock.” A whimper left your lips as you felt one of his hands leave your waist, moving up to grab a fist full of your hair.

The sting of your scalp had tears forming in the corners of your eyes as your boyfriend leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Hng—! J-sir! Please, it’s too much!” You could feel your second climax building, tension swelling in your belly like a balloon as Joshua refused to relent. You heard a dark chuckle emanate from your boyfriend before he whispered.

“Too much? Aww, baby... I’m just getting started.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader #joshua scenarios #joshua imagines #joshua smut #joshua x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 1 month

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my wittle pookie wookie bear

pairing: felix x reader

genre: angst? (happy ending) or maybe hurt/comfort?

word count: ~900

warnings: crying. i think that’s literally it.

an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace.

masterlist

You watched the video again. He was laughing, while she was draped on his arm, smiling up at him. It was just a short clip, but he looked so happy with her. You didn’t even know who she was, but some stays online were wondering if she was in someway important to him romantically. No one knew about you. No one knew that he had a secret relationship and that’s the way you both wanted it. You didn’t think you could handle the backlash of being with him. Stays would never approve of you. The internet would tear you apart. They would never think you were good enough for him, and you had to agree. You pressed play on the video one more time, tears filling your eyes. You tossed your phone to the farthest corner of the bed, you needed it away from you, needed them away from you. You put your head in your hands and cried softly. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that before you heard the door unlock.

"Baby, im home." Felix called from the entryway.

You could hear him hang his keys on the hook and take his shoes off. He went to the living room first, looking for you. When you weren’t there, you heard him head down the hall toward the bedroom. He softly opened the door.

"There you are angel." He said, smiling.

You looked up at him and your heart broke at his beauty. Of course you weren’t good enough for him, just look at him. He took in your puffy face, and tear stained cheeks before saying "love, what’s wrong?"

love

You scoffed. He didn’t love you. How could he?

"Why don’t you just leave me?" You asked. "You’d be happier with her, so why don’t you just go already?"

He was taken aback. "I’m.. sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Just leave, felix!" You yelled. "Leave." You choked on a sob and turned away from him. He reached for you, but you shrugged off his touch, unable to handle it at this point.

"Baby, where is this coming from? I’m not leaving you."

You sobbed harder into your pillow, breaths ragged and painful.

“angel..” he whispered, his heart shattering at the sound of your sobs, not knowing what was wrong or how to help you. he reached for you again and you let him. he crawled onto the bed and pulled your body flush against his. he could feel you trembling. he kissed your shoulder, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, trying his best to soothe you. “love.. talk to me.”

“don’t call me that.” you mumbled into your pillow.

“don’t call you what? love?” you nodded. “but that’s what you are. you’re my love. my everything. my only reason for everything that i do. you’re my life.”

you wiped at your tears, turning to face him. you looked up at his concerned face. seeing him through your bloodshot, watery eyes- he was a little blurry around the edges.

“would you rather me call you oxygen?” he asked. “you’re my reason for breathing. but it doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

he wiped some stray tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. “would you rather me call you pookie?” he chuckled a little. your lips turned up slightly at the corners. “my wittle pookie wookie bear.” he said in his most obnoxious baby voice, pinching your cheeks. you laughed at that.

“you’re crazy.” you said, voice still weak and watery.

he leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead. “only crazy for you,” he said against your skin before leaning back and adding “pookie.”

you rolled your eyes at him, sniffling. he rolled over to his bedside table and grabbed a tissue. handing it to you he asks, “you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“i saw a video online of you with a girl..” you told him. “you both looked so happy. and all the stays think that she’s your secret girlfriend or something and it got to me..”

“but angel, you’re my secret girlfriend.” he chuckled, brushing some hair out of your face and behind your ear. “and i promise you, you’re the only secret girlfriend or real girlfriend or imaginary girlfriend that i have. you’re it.”

“but i don’t deserve that.. im not good enough to be your girlfriend.” you admit.

“says who?”

you shrug. “all of the internet would say that if they knew about us.”

“the internet knows nothing about you. even if they knew we were dating, they don’t know the real you. they don’t even know the real me.” he tilts your chin up to look at him. his eyes are so beautiful, but a little glassy, he had gotten a little emotional while you were crying. “the only opinion that should matter to you is mine. and i love you with all of my heart. all of my soul. my entire being is just love for you. you are more than enough for me. too good for me in fact. how did i ever get so lucky?”

“really?” you ask, fresh tears brimming your waterline, but for an entirely different reason.

he leans in and kisses you gently. “i promise.” he says against your lips.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

#stray kids #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #felix angst #stray kids hurt/comfort #hyunjins orange slice too

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megamindsecretlair · 4 months

Text

It's a Little Cold

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Cursing. Sad Bucky. Fluff. Smut. Mild age gap. Reader is late 20s and Bucky is mid 30s. Dirty talk, PIV, and unprotected sex. Oral (fem receiving) Sentences are intentional AAVE.

Summary: You and Bucky had been dating for a few months now and were lucky to spend your first Christmas together exchanging presents.

Word Count: 3,432k

A/N: I had been thinking about these two for some time, so naturally we needed a little follow up. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and a Happy Monday to those who don't. If you need a little break from festivities, here ya go! Likes are always awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I block ageless blogs.

This is a follow up to It's a Little Warm. If you want to see how these crazy kids got together, start here! Read Part 1

Tagging the folks who liked the previous series: @softimgyu @blackreaderatrisk @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @monaeesstuff @blackpinup22 @chaos-4baby @sevikasblackgf @namsey1987 @browngirldominion

Fuck, you were frightfully cold. The downside to having low iron was that you were always fucking cold. You pulled the blanket over yourself and snuggled down into the bed but it was no use. You flipped over, your hand searching for your space heater, but the bed was empty. You popped your head up and looked at the empty spot.

“Bucky?” You called out.

There was no reply. You kicked the covers off of yourself and got out of bed. You wiped sleep from your eyes as you walked towards the living room. The space was still dark, the open windows letting the morning light filter in.

You were about to grab your phone and call Bucky, but a sigh caught your attention. At the window, Bucky stood leaning against the windowsill. You stopped and watched him. He looked melancholy as he stared out of the window.

The pale morning light slanted over his exposed skin. He only wore black sweatpants. His dog tags hung from his neck. His metal arm was off for once. The scars around his arm always made you so fucking angry, you could resurrect the scientists who experimented on him and kill them all over again.

“Bucky?” You called out and approached him. You didn’t want to spook the poor man.

Bucky turned towards you and gave you a small smile. “Mornin’, doll,” he said. You smiled back and snuggled into his side, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Mornin’ handsome. What ya doing up so early?” You asked.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen snow on Christmas.”

You looked out of the window with him. You had been dating for a few months now and there were times when Bucky seemed to shut down and shut you out. You tried not to take it personally. There were so many things that he had been through, so many things that he’d seen, you weren’t sure you could begin to understand. You weren’t entitled to his every deepest thought. But you wish you knew how to help him.

“I’m glad I get to be here when you do,” you said and nudged his shoulder. He smiled at you and kissed your temple.

“Since we’re up...presents?” You asked excitedly. You waggled your eyebrows and Bucky laughed.

“Can’t help yourself, can you?” He asked.

“Hell no! Are you kidding?” You slapped his rock hard stomach and crossed the room to the tiny Christmas tree on an end table by the other window. You knelt down and grabbed his presents. There was no way you were going to allow Bucky to drag a real Christmas tree into your place. You had an adorable argument about it.

You ended up winning by pointing out that the bad guys didn’t take breaks for the holidays. You hadn’t been sure that you would get to spend Christmas with Bucky. You agreed on a smaller, artificial tree this year. It was green, small and so cute. You two had sipped on drinks while you decorated. It took no more than an hour, mostly because you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

You held out the presents to him. Bucky grabbed his metal arm from the top of the couch and attached it. It never ceased to amaze you when he did that. You wanted to visit Wakanda so badly, it physically hurt. He flexed his fingers with a small grimace and then joined you in front of the table.

“Why don’t you open yours first?” He asked.

“No way! I want to see your face. If you hate it, I kept the receipts and we can return it for something else.” Nerves bubbled in your gut. You had wracked your brain for the past few months trying to think of what to get the man.

He had precious little in his apartment. He was always on the go somewhere, ready to leave at the drop of a hat. From day to day, he didn’t know where he would be. You thought it would wreck you that he wasn’t here every day. You missed him like crazy when he wasn’t around, but when he came back, it was simply magical.

“I’ll love it,” he said.

“You don’t even know what it is yet,” you said.

Bucky smiled. “I will love anything you get me. I thought we agreed on one present?”

He shook his box but what you got him wouldn’t rattle. He grinned and then nodded to two more presents under the small tree. “So we’re both full of shit?”

You chuckled as you grabbed your presents from him. The wrapping paper was silver with tiny penguins on them. The penguins had scarves on and you giggled about how cute they looked.

“Same time?” You asked. Maybe it would be better that you didn’t see his face when he opened his presents. You were suddenly nervous about what you got him. It was likely stupid and he wouldn’t use it.

He nodded. You both tore into your presents, wrapping paper flying all over the place. There was a green gift box underneath so you opened it. Inside, there was a giant, plush blanket hoodie in your favorite color.

“Bucky!” You squealed.

“Your anemic ass is always cold and I’m not always here to warm you up,” Bucky explained.

“I love it!” You hugged him, wrapping your hands around his neck and squeezing him tight. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and kissed your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he said. “There’s more.”

Underneath the blanket hoodie, there were matching socks and a huge black shirt. You lifted it and a waft of Bucky’s scent washed over you. “Your shirt?” You asked.

“You like stealing them all the time. Figured it was time to relinquish one willingly.” He said.

“You know me so well already,” you grinned and leaned up to press your lips against his. His stubble tickled your jaw as you kept going, loving his lips on yours. He groaned low in his throat and began to kiss along your jaw.

You were starting to warm up as you flushed with need. You would never get sick of him. Of his hands on you. “Open the rest of your presents,” Bucky said and kissed your cheek.

“You’re no fun.” You playfully pouted as you unwrapped your other present. Inside, there was a vanilla bean candle, bath soap, and lotion. You looked at him and Bucky had his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“I know you like to pamper yourself. So…” He was nervous.

“Aww,” you cooed. You dropped your head to his shoulder. He was so damn sweet sometimes. He paid special attention to things you told him in passing. He knew your favorite coffee order and your favorite foods by now. He remembered so much with ease, it made you sick.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” you said.

Bucky grinned. “Even with a dinosaur like me?” He asked.

“Especially with a dinosaur like you. Older is sexy now,” you said.

He mockingly groaned and pushed you off of him. You pushed him back with a giggle. “Wait till you get some gray in your beard. You won’t be able to get rid of me then,” you dropped your voice.

“Oh really? Some gray in my beard? That’s all it takes?” He asked, matching your low tone. His eyes lowered to your lips and you licked them slowly on purpose.

“You’re killing me here,” he said.

You laughed and nodded towards his presents. Time to rip the bandaid off. Bucky continued to unwrap his presents, having stopped to watch your reaction to his presents. He opened the small one first, removing a leather and pen set.

“You-you didn’t have to do this,” he said.

“You go off to these amazing places and I know you can’t exactly stop and smell the roses. But I thought maybe you’d like to write them down sometime. You’ve been through so much, sometimes writing it out helps. You said once that you couldn’t always trust what’s in your head. You can trust your words though,” you said.

Bucky stared at the journal for a long time and you wondered if you said something wrong. Or if he heard you at all.

“This…this is really sweet,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. You slipped your hand in his and he squeezed it gently.

Bucky cleared his throat and moved on to his other present. This one was in a gift bag so he took out the tissue paper and revealed a brand new duffle bag.

“I know it’s not really all that Christmassy and you already have one. But this one is made to be a lot sturdier. And there’s more pockets!”

Bucky stopped you with a kiss. “I love it,” he whispered against your lips.

“You’re not just saying that?”

“This means more to me than you’ll ever know. I wish I had the words,” he said.

He kissed you again, robbing you of all breath and reason. You sighed as he kissed you, his expert tongue swooping in to tangle with yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders pulling him in closer.

His hands drifted down your sides, grabbing your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned as his fingers dug into sensitive spots under your ass. Spots you didn’t even know were sore.

Bucky lifted you from the ground effortlessly and placed you on the couch. He continued to kiss you and explore your body with his hands. Forget being cold, you were on fire now. Bucky kissed his way down your body, lifting your tank top to kiss your tummy.

His teeth teased your overly sensitive flesh before grabbing hold of your shorts and peeling them off of you. His hands followed after to remove your panties. You lifted off of the couch to help slip them off your ass.

Bucky then lifted your shirt off, revealing your breasts. He moaned as he gripped them, running his thumbs over your nipples. You moaned at the coldness of his metal arm. It wasn’t enough to dampen the heat coming off of him in waves, warming you up from the inside out.

“I may not have the words, but I can show my appreciation in other ways,” Bucky said. He kissed your thighs.

“You always show your appreciation in the best of ways,” you said. Your voice was breathy, needy.

Bucky chuckled as he began to pluck on your nipples while nudging your legs apart. You draped your legs over his shoulders and he wasted no time suckling on your clit. “Ooof,” you moaned. Your thighs tightened around his head and your hands sunk into his short hair. He was starting to grow it out a bit more but you could still dig your fingers into his soft brown hair.

Your pussy throbbed with every pass and swipe of his tongue. His fingers continued to deftly tug on your nipples, ensuring increased pleasure. Bucky’s messy eating turned you on even more, to the point that you were cumming in no time.

“Bucky,” you moaned his name as you came. Your body was wracked with delicious shivers and contortions, your back bowing off of the couch.

“Music to my ears,” Bucky said against your clit. You moaned, too sensitive now. Bucky bit your thigh, leaving a wet spot right there. He stood up and dropped his sweatpants, revealing that beautiful dick of his.

He kneeled onto the couch, pulling you by your legs until you were positioned where he wanted you. Your ass hung off of the couch, onto his thighs. He licked his lips, licked your essence from his lips, as he rubbed his dick in between your soaked folds.

You bit your lip as you watched the devilish smirk on his face. He teased your entrance with his dick, causing you to moan and shiver violently. “Please, please, please,” you begged. Your skin felt electric, poised on the precipice of what you know would feel so good.

“Please what, doll? Use your words,” Bucky said.

“Dammit Bucky,” you whined. You needed relief. You needed that sweet fuckin’ relief that only he could provide. You twisted and writhed beneath him but he only continued to tease you mercilessly.

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“Please! I need you,” you moaned.

“Need me to do what?” He asked. He swirled the tip of his dick at your entrance. He slapped your clit a few times with his dick. The wet slaps were loud in the quiet room. It was filthy and lewd and you whined some more.

“I need your dick inside me!”

Bucky cooed. “Aw, was that so hard?” He asked.

“I’m gonna smack you when we're done,” you said.

“Oh? Maybe I should get up then,” he said.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” You chuckled but you were too wound tight. Your chuckles came out as little huffs, too out of breath to truly laugh.

Bucky slapped your clit again and you ached. You felt so empty that you turned pleading, puppy dog eyes towards him. “Please, Bucky,” you begged, your bottom lip quivering.

Bucky grinned and tilted his head as he finally slid inside of you. You mutually groaned, the sound echoing each other. You let out a deep sigh as he finally slid further in with ease.

“Never get over this,” Bucky said.

“Never,” you agreed.

Bucky took hold of your fleshy thighs and began to snap his hips with a brutal, near punishing pace. He stretched you out marvelously, feeling every last inch of him. You felt full in the best way as if he were stroking straight into the deepest part of you.

He pushed your thighs apart a bit more and sank in deeper, finding your G-spot. “Oue, oue! Don’t stop! Right there!”

“Right there?”

“Right there! Right there!” You gripped onto his forearms and held on as he kept that same spot, thrusting into you exactly how you liked. You watched his face. Watched how he seemed to lose himself inside of you.

You liked this view most of all. Not only that you two were joined and meshed together so perfectly. You liked how unrestrained he looked. How his jaw was slack, eyes nearly closed, and that tongue of his poking out the corner of his mouth.

He took your breath away when he was focused on your pleasure like this. When he seemed to chase some unnameable ghost in his eyes.

“Fuck, doll, you feel so good,” he moaned.

You matched his strokes, bouncing on his dick with him and he groaned even more. His eyes looked further down and you wondered if he was looking at your bouncing breasts or the way he disappeared inside of you.

His strokes caused a delicious pressure to build low in your belly. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned.

“Come on, doll. Let it go for me, baby,” he cooed.

You finally tensed up and dug your nails into his skin as you came, flooding his dick with your arousal. He groaned and snapped his hips a final time before unloading inside of you. “Fuuuuck me,” he moaned.

Bucky continued to pound into you, thrust into you. “Fuck, I love you,” you moaned.

Bucky stilled and you closed your eyes. Fuck. You hadn’t meant to say that. “Look at me,” Bucky commanded.

You shook your head. Your pussy clenched around his dick, fresh with slick from the both of you. Shit. You groaned and dug the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Look at me, doll,” Bucky said.

You shook your head again. “Being stubborn doesn’t work on me.”

You groaned. You could not face him. You were mortified. It had only been a few months since you started dating. It was entirely too soon to confess love, right?

How could you not love him? He was sweet to the point of giving you a toothache. He was considerate and old-fashioned in a lot of ways that you strangely craved. He opened doors for you, pulled out your chair for you. If you sneezed, he would take off his jacket and hand it over with a second thought.

His cooking needed work, but he was right there in the kitchen helping you. You thought it would suck having someone in your space all the time. You very much enjoyed your independence. You knew that if you did have someone in your space, every little thing would annoy you.

If they left the toilet seat up, it was time for them to go. If they had the audacity to change your channel, you were kicking them out without a second glance. Being around Bucky, however, you just wanted more of him. Beyond the sex, you wanted him.

You liked snuggling up with him. You liked staying up way past your bedtime talking and laughing with him. You liked hearing about the books he’s read and some of the sillier missions he’d been on. Things that didn’t involve killing and maiming and being a general menace to society. He told you stories about Wakanda and you loved the way his soft voice told you stories.

He was your personal melatonin. You fell asleep often listening to the cadence and rhythm of his voice. You were in it deep. Impossibly deep. Deeper than his dick still buried inside of you.

Bucky pulled your hands away from your face. “Come on, open those pretty eyes for me,” he said.

You were not that brave. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never leave. You opened your eyes anyway, prepared to see Bucky look at you like you were crazy. A few months of dating and you were talking about love?

Blehh. It was a wonder he wasn’t getting dressed and getting the hell out of dodge. Bucky smiled and leaned forward until you were pressed chest to chest. His nose nuzzled yours.

“What did you say? Say it again,” he said.

“I can’t,” you said.

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you said and gave him a lopsided grin. Bucky kissed the tip of your nose.

“I’d like to hear it again,” he said.

“Are you sure? I can totally take it back,” you said.

Bucky shook his head and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Say it again,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you said.

His dick twitched inside of you and you whimpered. How was it that he was still hard?

“I love you, too,” he said.

“You know you don’t have to say it just because–” He sealed off your protests with a kiss. A gentle, deep, wet kiss that left you curling your toes and butterflies flapping like crazy in your stomach.

“I love you. I have loved you for a long while now. Probably from the first moment I met you,” he said.

You wanted to tell him that he was full of shit. But Bucky never said anything he didn’t mean. A by-product from the time he was born. He was raised to be fair, honest, and kind. You thanked your lucky stars that your paths crossed. You hated that his life was taken away from him but you loved that it put him in your life.

“Dammit, Bucky, I love you,” you said.

Bucky smiled against your lips and began to move. “Ouue,” you moaned as he began to glide and slide within you. Bucky kissed you as he did so, pouring all of his emotions into the movement of his body against yours.

You made love now. Slow and gentle. His thrusts were a magic all its own, making you feel even closer to him than what you were. You stared into each other’s eyes as he pulled sweet moans from your lips. He kissed down every whine and whimper you uttered.

Tears sprang to your eyes as your orgasm neared. “Bucky,” you sighed as it washed over you. Pleasure dripped down your spine, slow as molasses and just as sweet.

Bucky called your name softly as he released his own slow climax, spilling inside of you and marking you in such a primal, base way.

“I love you so much,” Bucky said. He kissed you again.

“I love you,” you told him.

“Come on. Think it’s time we try out your present,” he said. He slipped out of you with a groan. He helped you stand. He grabbed your candle, soap, and lotion and chased you into the bathroom where you continued to spend a very lazy, very naughty Christmas.

This is a follow up to It's a Little Warm. If you want to know how these two got together, start here! Read Part 1

There's also more Bucky to love! The Secret Bucky Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Bucky Files #Bucky x Black!reader #Bucky x Black reader #x Black reader #Bucky x Fem!reader #Bucky x Fem reader #Bucky x plus size reader #Bucky smut #Bucky fluff #Bucky fanfic #Bucky fan fic #Bucky fanfiction #Bucky fan fiction #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes

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