#I’m going feral for this men I swear to god

[akeminy]

OMFGGGGG I’M ABOUT TO PASS OUT, TO RIP MY HAIR, TO DIE HEREEEE

[satorusugurugurl]

Can i please request an experienced reader taking the virginity of gojo, geto, nanami, and sukuna (modern au) please? I really love your writing and all the brainrot it gives me ☺️ happy feel good friday ! ❤️

Cherry Popper!

Summary: You pop the cherries of some of the hottest men from JJK!

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

Word count: 9,020

Warnings: smut, language, fingering, p in v, protected/unprotected sex, horny thoughts

A/N: Nonnie, I hope you have an amazing day. This prompt had me squirming! *feral barking*

Gojo Satoru:

Dating the Gojo Satoru was like a dream come true. Not only was the man hot, and he spoiled you rotten, and he loved you endlessly. Not a day went by that you doubted his love for you. But you did notice something was wrong with him when things started to get a little more intimate in the bedroom. 

One night, you were watching Netflix when he leaned over to kiss you, and you reciprocated. That kiss turned into another kiss before it was a full-blown make-out session that ended with you on top of him, straddling his hips; his erection was rubbing against your clothed pussy perfectly. Both your palms lay flat against his chest as you tilted your head back, rolling your hips back and forth, your clit rubbing over the seam in your pants perfectly. 

You were getting lost in the pleasure; the feeling of his cock twitching and becoming fully erect had you eager for more. He looked so fucked, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and those beautiful eyes slowly widened as you placed both his hands on your breasts. His long fingers twitched, eager to squeeze and massage the super-soft flesh of your chest. Instead of giving in to his carnal desires, he sits up, leaving his hands on your breasts as he takes a deep breath.

“Toru?” Your boyfriend’s eyes roll back at the sultry tone of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes glance around the room, avoiding yours entirely. “Uhm, Before we go any further, you should know something.” His tongue darts out, sliding over his kiss-swollen lips, wetting them. 

Oh, he was serious. You goofball of a boyfriend was being serious. All horny thoughts went to the back of your mind as you focused all of your attention on him. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

The different scenarios he might want to discuss with you flow through your head. Did he have an STD? Was he not ready to take it to the next step? Or did he not see you sexually appealing? The scenarios of what could happen in the next couple of minutes were endless.

“Uhm, well, I've noticed things in our relationship have progressed.” His hands gently squeeze your breasts to emphasize his point. “like how you’re straddling my hips and grinding against my cock. But before we take it further, you have the right to know.”

“Ah~” he gives your tits another squeeze, “know what?” 

“I-I’m uhm—” he uses your breasts like a stress ball, giving them a final squeeze before he lets out a harsh breath. “I’m a virgin.” 

A 404 error message displays in your mind; you blink, look away, and look back at Gojo before repeating the process. As if doing so will restart your brain. Because there is no way I’m a virgin just left his mouth.

“You’re a virgin?” 

“God, why does it sound worse when coming out of your mouth?”

“You're a virgin?”

“Repeating it isn’t going to change the fact that, yes, I am a virgin.” 

His cock is as soft as a marshmallow against you. You realize this might not be the best conversation while you’re on top of him. So, despite his sounds of protest, you crawl off his lap and sit on your knees across from him. 

There was a lot you wanted to talk with him about before you took the next step. “Okay, were you uncomfortable with how things were moving? Is that why—” you nod your head towards his crotch, “you aren’t hard anymore?” Anyone looking in on your conversation would’ve thought you just told Satoru you had run over his puppy.

“No, I’m not uncomfortable, I swear! I just— got in my head, and I realized that I hadn’t told you about still owning my V-card.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “I just didn’t want things to get hot and heavy  for me to cum too soon and leave you feeling unsatisfied?” 

Not once in the history of your relationship with him had Gojo left you unsatisfied, so there were no worries. You did have to worry about the feral need in your chest. Knowing that he was a virgin and you were the experienced one had you not even concerned about your pleasure. Your boyfriend’s bottom lips stuck out in a pout as he looked you over. Satoru contemplates if he should’ve told you this or not. Why do people make such a big deal over their virginity anyway?

With a far-out look in his eyes, Gojo doesn't even see you coming. One second, you're sitting across from him; the next, he's being shoved back, and his shorts are tugged down. His soft cock twitched as you wrapped your hands around him and gave him a couple of strokes. 

“Fuuck, baby, what are you? Nngh!” his eyes widened, tears pricking his eyes as you took him into your mouth with a happy hum. “Oooh—ooh—haah~!” his fingers interlace through your hair, gently tugging at it. “Well fuck~ if I knew tellin’ y-yo-oooh fuck~!” Satoru clenched his teeth as you bobbed up and down, “Tellin’ you I was a virgin would get you to suck my dick~ would have told you sooner~!”

You hummed, pulling off of his erect cock, licking at the spit coating your lips. “I'm doing it to get you nice and hard~ because I’m going to fuck your brains out~” The declaration had Satoru twitching in your hand.

He was more than to have to fuck him, and he’s suddenly wishing it was your pussy wrapped around him rather than your mouth. But the nerves got the better of him, and he's ninety-nine percent sure that if you were to try jumping on top of him, he'd go soft again. Out of the two of you, you knew what you were doing, so it was better to let you do your thing.

And your thing was fucking torture.

You were sucking the life out of his cock, but every time he thought he would cum down your throat, you would pull away, edging him. It was fun at first, being almost at the edge of blissful pleasure to have it yanked away. But now that this has happened nearly five different times, it wasn't as fun anymore.

Satoru’s eyes flooded with tears as he fisted his hands into the sheets with a groan. “C- can't take it anymore!” Your throat was so warm and wet, but he wanted more; he needed you in the purest, rawest way he could. “Baby, fuck please I’m so hard it fucking hurts!” He wasn't lying about that; his cock was throbbing hard, tip leaking pre-cum. 

“Yeah~ you ready for me to pop that cherry?” Satoru laughs, eyebrows furrowing as he nods. 

“Say it however you want; I don’t care. Just please fuck me.” 

Watching you sit back and strip down had his cock twitching even harder. His eyes rake over your skin, taking in how pretty your tits are, how slick it is coating your inner thighs. You look tameless as you straddle his hips, your wet cunt inches from his dick. Kneeling above him, your fingers gently maneuver the head of his cock against your wet and tight entrance.

Just as you line yourself up, Satoru grabs your hips with both of his hands, his breath shaking as he exhales. Wait, it wasn’t just his fingers; his whole body was shaking. Did he want to do this?

“Toru?” Pulling your gaze from where your bodies are nearly connected, you look into his eyes, finding a man not overwhelmed by nerves but by pure horny intent. “Oooh.”

His cheeks are flushed, his eyes dark as he breathes heavily. You may have looked tameless to him, but to you, the man is fucking feral. It has you feeling things, so many things. Things that have you smirking as you grab him by the back of the head, yanking him towards your mouth in a heated kiss of tongue and moans. Satoru gently bucks his hips as he feels your pussy throb over the head of his cock. 

“M’ gonna fuck you, Toru~ ready?”

“S-So fuck—ah!” He rocks back as you start sliding your pussy down his cock. “Haah! Oh god.” His cerulean eyes dart towards his cock, where you both are connected. “O-Oh my god, oh my god, I’m inside you,” 

“Yeah~? Does it feel good~?” 

“Fuck! Fuuuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You giggle as you grip his broad shoulders, lowering yourself entirely down on his cock until he’s balls deep inside of you. “Mhmm~ congratulations, you’re no longer a virgin. You feel so good inside of me~.”

His dick twitches against your tight walls as Satoru gently grips your hips. “It’s bad enough that I’m close to blowing my load from you just lowering yourself down. B-But when you talk like that, I feel like I could cum untouched. S-So maybe save that for when I’m not freshly devirginized.” His pleas are heard, and you decide not to say anything remotely close to that. Instead, you pull yourself up before slamming back down on his cock. “HAAH! Oh fuck!”

You set a slow pace of bouncing up and down his shaft while gripping his shoulders for support. Satoru watches your perfect body bouncing and rocking against him. His hand trail lower, groping the fat of your ass, squeezing it firmly as you continue to fuck him. You look so pretty, your head tilted back and your bottom lip between your teeth as you lose yourself in the pleasure. 

Seeing you so into it made him so close to the edge that he knew he would not last long. “Fuck~ fuck~ you’re so wet, so tight.” He groans out, dropping his forehead to rest on your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last long, sweetheart, fuck sorry.” Hearing that only had your hips moving faster and harder, causing him to grip your ass to ground himself. “Baby, please, please, I’ll cum too soon.” One hand remains on his shoulder while the other grips a handful of soft white hair, yanking his head back so you can look into his eyes.

“You might not last long, but the great thing about this is that we can do it as much as we want to build up your stamina~.” 

Your words seem to unlock something in your boyfriend as his eyes widen as you roll your hips. You fully believed hearing the promise of more sex would be enough to send him over the edge. But it doesn’t. Instead, it makes him snarl as squeezes your ass before thrusting up, fucking into you with full force. Fucking the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless and stunned as he uses one hand to trail down to your clit, his thumb rubbing the bundle of nerves back and forth. The sudden change, the flip of dynamics, had you falling forward, your face buried in his neck. 

“Oh fuck~ fuck~ holy shit.” You cry out, trying to match his frantic movements but failing. Was he a virgin?! How? How was that possible when he was fucking into you like a porn star?!

“Ooh~ god fuck, fuck!” Your sweet, not-so-innocent boyfriend cries out. “Fuck~ fuck are you g-gonna cum?” He’s suddenly perked up, a new wave of confidence washing over him as your walls clamp down. “Oh fuck, you are!” He grunts out, thumb rubbing faster over your clit. “Fuuuck fuck, please cum~! Cum baby~ cum~!”

You can’t even warn him. His cock is bullying your g-spot while his thumb abuses your clit. You were expecting him to be under your thumb, not vice versa! His eyes widen as you arch your back, eyes ruling into your skull as your walls squeeze his cock so hard it has him whimpering. You cum, screaming his name, squirting all over his lower stomach, pulling him over the edge with you. His cock throbs hard as spurts of cum fill you. He keeps cumming until your orgasm finally comes to an end.

“A-Are you sure you’re a virgin?” You ask between gasps while Satoru peppers hot open-mouth kisses down your neck. 

“Mm, was.” He corrects before shoving you down so he’s on top of you. “I was a virgin.” 

His cock is still hard, your combined cum seeping out around him. “H-heh, uhm Toru—“ you gasp as he pulls out of you before slamming back in. “Nngh!” You cry out, eyes full of tears this time, as the roles have been reversed.

“What was it you said?” And deep, sharp thrust. “Right~ ‘You might not last long, but the great thing about this is that we can do it as much as we want to build up your stamina~?” Your hazy gaze watched Satoru smirking like a madman, a lustful fire burning in his breathtaking eyes. “I’m ready for round two.

And it was that moment you were ready to meet your maker because Gojo Satoru was about to fuck you to the brink of death.

Geto Suguru:

You loved your boyfriend. God, you loved him so much. Not only was he fucking hot, but he was also a complete and total sweetheart. Even though he had gone through so much shit in his high school career, he never once faltered as a good person. He could have gone down a darker path after everything with the star plasma vessel, but he hadn’t. 

Sure, he had gone through a rough time. He didn't sleep well, he lost a bunch of weight, and things just seemed hopeless. But he came to his senses when he saved Nanako and Mimiko from the terrible village they were stuck in. He had every opportunity to take revenge on the monsters that had hurt them. But instead, he called you and Gojo before acting in rage.

The three of you had saved those girls, and they were now under the protection of the high school. Since that fateful night, Suguru started taking better care of himself. He talked things over with you and Gojo, letting you know how much he had been suffering. With both of your help, he started paving his path to a better future—one where he would talk to you and let you know what was going on in his mind. A future was full of love and light.

It was funny to think that it was three years ago, and now you both were living together, on missions as full-fledged Jujutsu Sorcerer. Reminiscing over the past like that made the time fly by. You were looking through old photos on your cell phone when the door to your apartment opened. Geto walked in still in his gym clothes, his hair tied up in a tight bun. He was coated in sweat as he slipped his shoes off and headed into the bedroom.

“Hi Sugu, how was your workout?”

“Good.” He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I’m happy to be home. I missed you.” His chaste kiss turns into another, followed by another, until his lips press firmly against your mouth.

You hum happily, kissing him back, arms snaking around his neck as you pull him down on top of you. He lays on top of you, his hips pressing against yours, as you lick his bottom lip. He allows you to slide your tongue into his mouth, his hands gently grabbing your waist, and you deepen the kiss, tasting the remains of his pre-workout on his tongue. 

Maybe the reminiscing of the past or the traces of strawberry flavor that lingers in his mouth makes you want to get in a workout yourself. You’d been with Geto for over two years, and between finishing school and adjusting to your lives as full-time sorcerers, you hadn’t gotten more intimate than hand stuff and oral sex. Tonight was the perfect night for you guys to take it further. 

You rocked your hips up, pleased to feel his throbbing erection against your thigh. He grunts, breaking the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. His eyes narrow as you rock up against him again, drawing a moan from his throat. 

“Mm, someone’s needy.”

“Mhmm~ thinking about you and how hot you are makes me all horny.” 

“Ooh? Well, let me help with that.” He goes to slide his hand into your pajama pants, but you grip his wrist, preventing him from slipping under. “Want me to eat you out instead? I could use a treat after my workout.”

“No, I want you to fuck me.” 

Your request had your boyfriend blinking in shock for a moment. “Fuck you?” He repeated that as if you were speaking a foreign language; he was incapable of understanding. 

“Yes~ we’ve been together for a while; I want to take it to the next phase.” You tug your tank top off, tossing it to the floor. “Come on, I want you.”

 

Suguru stares at you for the longest time, eyes taking in your bare form before he nods. The tent in his pants has excitement rushing through you. You’d had sex before you and Geto got together. You and Nanami were eighteen and in a hotel after a stressful mission. So you both decided to have sex—several times in one night and a few times after that. But you were better friends than lovers. 

Of course, you and Suguru were both experienced. So this was bound to be the best sex of your life. You couldn’t wait to feel him buried inside of you.

Getting on all fours, you arched your back as deep as you could, your ass in the air. Looking over your shoulder, you watched as your boyfriend rolled a condom over his cock with shaking hands. Aw, the poor guy was so excited he was shaking! 

Suguru was shaking because he was about to have sex for the first time in his life. He never brought it up because who cared about virginity? It wasn’t that big of a deal for guys, well, for him at least. Having that mindset didn’t change the fact that he was nervous. 

He did not want to cum the second he slid inside of you; he couldn't cum before getting you off. There was no doubt he could do that. He'd done it plenty of times before. Making you cum was one of his favorite things to do! On his tongue, fingers, his thigh, getting you off got him off. But cumming inside of you before even having a chance to fuck you, that had him doubting himself. 

“Sugu~ you okay, babe?” 

Suguru blinked, looking at your delicious body. The curves of your ass, your wet pussy eagerly waiting for him to slide inside of you. You were so beautiful, but seeing you like this, so bare and needy, god, it had his body moving on its own. 

“I’m good; I’ll be even better once I’m inside you.” Without cumming first thing. “I’m going to uhm—uh—”

You giggle cocking a brow. “Fuck me?” 

“Yeah, that.” You giggle again, but as he pushes the tip of his cock past the tight ring of muscles, your giggle turns into a soft moan. Suguru bites down on his bottom lip with a growl. You’re so tight and fuck; it was like you were sucking him into your heat. The feeling of you wrapped around him had him gripping your ass for dear life. “Fuck~ fuuuck~ ah~”

“Ah fuck~” you groan as he stops, “Suguru~ baby, no need to stop. I can take you, I promise.” 

“S-Sto—” he groans, “please.”

“Huh? Please, what baby?” 

“Sto—ahhh!” He rests his head against your shoulder blade. “Haaah.” Several hot breaths spread over your skin as he sinks deeper. 

Shit, he was really into it. Slowly sliding into you, savoring every second. “God, you’re being so hot~ savoring it, are you?” Suddenly, a hand wraps around your neck before clamping down over your mouth. 

“Please, Princess, I am begging you to stop talking.” Your eyebrows knit together as you turn to look at him, only to be met with his flushed fucked out face. “E-Everytime you talk to me, you clench down on me, and I-I’m trying extremely hard not to cum and ruin our first time.” Your eyes widen as he exhales softly. “Well, my first time.”

 

“Eh?!” Your muffled scream had your boyfriend growling, his head falling forward.

“Fuck, please, baby!” He drops his hand from your mouth, gripping the sheets instead. “Please, please.”

“You’re a virgin? I thought you had done it.” 

“Who the hell would I have had sex with?”

You blush, feeling a bit silly for your assumption. “W-Well, his name rhymes with Hoe-Joe.” The room is nearly silent, aside from Suguru’s groans. 

“No, hell no, what the fuck, babe?” 

“You both are close! I just thought maybe—ya’ know, lonely mission?” He’s so quiet it has you giggling. “Thought he would show you his infinite void.” 

More laughter escaped you, only to be cut off by Suguru thrusting inside of you. “If you’re going to keep talkin’, at least scream my name.” You cried out, gripping the sheets, crying out softly, as he set a messy pace.

It doesn’t have much rhythm, but it doesn’t matter because he makes up for it with all of his cock. It’s thick and long enough to hit all the right spots. Suguru grips a handful of your hair, tugging your head back as his other hand gropes your ass, thrusting in and out of you at a pace that has you crying big fat tears. 

“S-Sugu!” You cry out as Suguru watches the way your ass ripples with each thrust. And it has his hips moving faster and harder, going as deep as he can. “Y-You liar!” 

“Why the fuck are you calling me a liar.” There’s almost a smug grin on his face as you blubber mindlessly against the sheets. Your walls are twitching, and your legs are trembling as he fucks you closer to your orgasm.

“N-no way! Ah ah!! No way y-you’re a virgin!” He slams into your cervix, making you scream in pained pleasure. “Fuck!” 

“Oh, I am, and this virgin’s going to make you cum so hard you cry more.” 

His once hesitant, messy thrusts find a brutal pace that had you screaming. Screaming his name as he slams over and over into your g-spot. You turn to stare into his eyes, only to have him hit his lips against yours in a kiss of horny need. You cry out, trying to match his momento but failing miserably. It was hard to kiss your boyfriend, who was rearranging your guts.

“Gah~ ah ah! C-cumming Sugu~!!” Suguru seizes up as you cum; your walls contract around his hard cock. Milking him towards his orgasm.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Gah!” His body stills behind you and you can feel his cock throbbing hard inside of you. The condom is filling with his cum, only stopping once you collapse onto the mattress, gasping for air.

For a moment, he was proud he was better off than you. Only to realize just how fucked up and pussydrunk he was when he moved. Suguru feels completely drained. You had milked him for everything he was worth. He slowly pulls out of you, pinching the tip of the condom to prevent his cum from slipping out as he pulls it off. 

He wants to get up to grab a rag to wipe you, but he just wrapped his arms around you instead, pulling me close to him as he lays you both down against the pillows. He was gently running his index finger down the bridge of your nose before pushing hair out of your face. Your eyes weakly open before closing once more. 

“You OK there, princess?” 

“I just got fucked within an inch of my life by my boyfriend, who just happened to be a virgin.”

“Yeah, sorry if I wasn't that good.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Suguru stares at you for the longest moment. “That was the best I’ve ever had in my life. You may have been a virgin, but do not ever do anything differently. Fuck me like that every time, and I’ll be the one to propose to you in the future.”

A sudden burst of confidence spread through Suguru’s chest. “Yeah? You’re gonna propose to me?” All you manage to do is nod. “It was that good, huh?” You nod again, snuggling your face into his chest. “Yeah, it was a pretty fucking perfect first time for me, too.” he presses his lips gently against your forehead, holding as tight as he can as he both doze off.

Nanami Kento:

When you and Nanami first started dating, he was pretty forward with the fact that he had never been with anyone else. Meaning you were the first woman he had ever taken out on a date, kissed, and fooled around with. Despite Nanami’s inexperience in dating, he was the best thing to ever happen to you. So once things started to get a little more heated in the bedroom, you decided you wanted to make his first time as special as he had made you feel and your relationship.

This is how Nanami found himself sitting on the beach in Okinawa under an umbrella, shading him from the blazing sun. You were lying beside him, watching as he looked at the ocean waves. He seemed so content, a book resting in his hand as the ocean breeze blew through his hair. 

Seeing him so relaxed and happy, the way that he made you feel on a daily basis. 

Nanami glanced down at you, catching you staring at him; he didn’t mind; he smiled at you before gently stroking your hair back. “I needed this vacation. Thank you for setting it up.” He laid down on the beach towel next to you, his hand stroking strands of hair back against your head. 

“You deserve a break as much as anyone else.” You gently ran your hand down his toned stomach, catching how he sharply inhaled and his muscles tensed. “Kento, I was thinking about our relationship.” 

“Oh, what about it?”

“I was thinking I am ready to take it to the next step if you are.”

“By next step, I assume you mean us having sex?” Nanami watches as you eagerly nod your head. “Are you comfortable with taking that next step?” 

Your fingers trace shapes over his abs, gently easing him into a more relaxed state. “I’m more than ready to be with you. The real question is if you’re ready.” Your boyfriend’s muscles twitch underneath your touch, and you can hear the soft groan that leaves his lips as your fingers dip lower, brushing over the happy trail that leads into his swim trunks. 

“I must admit, I have been wanting to take it to the next step.” His large, warm hand gently grips your wrist, pulling you away from the hardening bulge in his swimsuit. “And as eager as I am to get underway with it, I would much rather not lose my virginity on a beach in front of other beachgoers if I’m completely honest.”

You wanted to laugh at his assumption you were going to pull his cock out and have sex with him right there. “Then let’s go back to the room. It should be all set up for our special night.” Nanami knew that you weren’t a virgin. You had other partners in the past, ones that treated you not so great in the long run. But he is their loss because you were the most amazing woman in this entire world.

“Special?” 

“My first time wasn’t special. It was rushed and unplanned. You deserve a special first-time Kento.”

Kento is honored that you thought so highly of him. That is the sole reason he’s able to sit up and start packing your belongings. “Well, what do you say we return to our hotel room then? We could have some fun, and then I’ll order our room service.” His smile is so contagious and warm and sweet. That smile is the whole reason you planned the special trip. 

“I love the sound of that.”

Upon arrival to your hotel room, Nia unlocks the door with the key card and steps inside. There’s a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice on the nightstand beside the bed, along with two glasses. You shuffle past him, heading to the bathroom with your duffel bag over your shoulder.

 

“I just need a couple of minutes to freshen up. Would you mind pouring the champagne?” 

“I would be honored.” He hooked his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. “Don’t keep me waiting for long. I’m typically a patient man, but you made me feel a little mischievous this evening.”

By the time you run to the bathroom, none of me opens the bottle of champagne and pours both glasses. He hears the door open. He turns around, both glasses in hand, and he nearly drops them as he looks over. You’re wearing red lingerie. The Lacey fabric is see-through, revealing your nipples that are already hard, and he can tell from this angle that you aren’t wearing any underwear. 

His throat is suddenly dry, and he puts the glasses on the nightstand to prevent him from making a mess. Seeing you in such a state had his cock throbbing in his pants, threatening to cum at any minute. If that happened, champagne isn’t the only mess he’d have to worry about cleaning up.

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispers into the space between you as you walk forward. “What did I do to deserve such a beauty as you.”

“I ask myself the same question almost every day I’m with you.”

His eyes linger on yours for the longest of moments before he closes the distance between you. His hands gently grab your hips, using your back towards the bed. Nanami is so gentle, conveying every ounce of love he has for you in the simple caresses of his fingers against your skin. You were beginning to wonder if this would be as special for you as it was for him. Because despite all of the experience, you feel like you’re a virgin along with him.

“I want to feel you.” He presses and gently kisses up your arms. “Every part of you, allow me to drown myself in your warmth, my love.” 

You have no complaints, arching your back, your hands moving down to pull at the drawstring of his swim trunks. His lips move slowly over your collarbone, tongue licking at it, tracing the shape of it against your skin. Kento’s lips gently caress over your heated skin, and your hands push his swimsuit down past his ass, allowing you to freely grip his cock in your hands.

“You’re already so hard, Ken.” Whispering breathlessly against his ear. “You must be as excited as me.” 

While he continues to trace kisses over your skin, you gently take one of his hands and place it between your legs. His fingers waste no time. They push the flimsy fabric of the lingerie, pulling it underneath your breasts before his fingers up and down over your slit, rubbing your slick all over your pussy. 

Nanami grunts as you give his cock, a gentle squeeze as his fingers tease your clit. “You weren’t kidding, you are excited.” His index finger traces gentle hearts over your hardened bud as you had them to him on the beach. “You’re so warm,” he dips his fingers down lower, pushing his middle finger inside of you. “And tight, I promise I’m going to make you feel so good. But before I give you my cock allow me to stretch you out just a bit.” he gently plunges his middle finger in and out of you before adding his ring finger, hooking his fingers up into that spongy spot deep inside of you.

His fingers nearly make it impossible for you to pleasure him as he pleasures you. Your boyfriend doesn’t mind; he only cares about making you feel good and rewarding you for booking a trip for his sake. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he speeds it up at the feeling. Your pussy was telling him that you were close without you having to speak. But just as he hooks his finger into your g-spot to get you to squirt, you grab his wrist. 

“N-No wanna cum with you inside me.”

“Alright, I can do that.”

Nanami quickly kicks his swim trunks off before positioning himself between your legs. He truly takes a moment to take you in as a whole. The way your eyes are slightly narrowed. How your beautiful lips parted somewhat with your soft gasps. You, indeed, are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life, and you were going to be the first woman he had sex with. If things continued to go as well as they were, you might be the only one he ever has sex with.

“Ken?” The softness of your voice draws him back to the current reality. “Are you alright?” 

“Never been better.” He gently fluffs your pillow before taking your legs, allowing you to wrap them around his hips. “I love you; thank you for making this night so special.” 

“I love you too~”

Kento gently kisses you as he pushes the head of his cock inside your pussy. The feeling of your wet, warm walls pulling him in makes him shiver. Your mouth always felt good, and he had always imagined sex to feel like that, but he couldn’t have been more off. Sliding inside of your tight heat is like entering heaven. It feels as though his senses are heightened. You feel so soft and warm, your scent is intoxicating, and everything about you is perfect beyond words.

So many different sensations hit him at once. The only thing that seemed relatively clear for him to do was to fuck you. So he pulled himself out before pushing himself inside balls deep. As soon as he bottomed out, he was pulling back out again, slamming back into you, causing you to arch your back off the mattress, your eyes wide, mouth gaping as a man who had, two minutes prior, begun as hard as he could.

“You feel so good~ fuck, you feel so fucking good.” Nanami typically wasn’t one curse, but the sensation of you wrapped around his cock had him losing his self-control.  “You’re pussy is so wet. How are you so wet?”

“Y-You ha-ah!” Another sharp snap of his hips takes the breath out of your lungs. “Ah fuck! You have that effect on me. I’m always wet around you, Ken!” 

“That’s good to know~” his lips smash against yours, “so you’re telling me whenever I need to fuck you, you’ll be ready?” Something about the dirty words had you clamping down on his thick length. “Oh, my love likes that idea, doesn’t she?” 

“Y-Yes~!”

“You want me to use you~?”

“Yes, Kento!” 

“Want me to fill you with my cock whenever I want~?”

“Ah, fuck~!! Fuuuck yes, Keeen!”

Your boyfriend kisses you again, tongue slipping inside of your mouth as he gently grabs your hands holding them as he fucks into you. You squeeze them as your tongue gently wraps around his as he swallows your moans. This wasn’t just sex for Kento. This was more profound and had more meaning than two people using each other for pleasure. This was love.

His thrust slowed as he slowly thrust in and out of you. His kisses were gentler as his hands squeezed yours as tight as he could. The change was nice; it had your desperate cries of pleasure turning into soft mewls of satisfaction. He followed close behind you, gently moaning into you as he released one of your hands to grab your hip gently.

“I don’t just want to use you whenever I see fit.” He whispers, breaking away from your kiss-swollen lips. “I want to love you like this. For all time.” 

The pure adoration in his words almost has you in tears. “K-Kento~ oh god—love you.” He grins, pressing soft kisses against you before his hips pick up their pace. “Oooh fuck, babe.”

“I-I’m sorry—believe I’ve reached my limit.” He groans against your mouth. “Fuck I’m so close, where do you want it?” His hand on his hip slides between your body, finding your slit with ease. 

“Inside~ please cum inside of me.”

His fingers rub that bundle of nerves in circles just as you liked it. As he pulls you closer and closer to the edge, you kiss him hungrily, your eyes staring into his as your mouth falls open in an ‘O’ shape. The face Nanami knew you made when you would cum. His ministrations increase in speed as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface. You scream, head thrown back as your walls contract around him, squeezing his cock through the spasms of your orgasm.

Watching you come undone all because of him fucking you, it feds into his pleasure. Nanami groans, dropping his beam to the crook of your neck, where he begins thrusting his hip as hard as he can, working you through your orgasm just as he slams into you. His head tilts back, veins protruding in his neck as he growls an animalistic grunt that has you shaking.

“Fuck, take it, love, oooh god fuck!” He feels your walls greedily sucking him dry. “Y-That’s it~ oooh, that’s a good girl for me~!” 

Once you both come down, his hips gently press kisses over every inch of skin he can reach. He pulls back to beam down at you only once, satisfied with your airy giggles. Your sweet soft hand cups his cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb as he slowly somehow manages to pull out of your pussy.

“That was amazing.” He whispered, gently lying down beside you. “You made it a most memorable experience.”

Memorable for him? He was joking. You stared at him in orgasmic bliss as he grabbed the champagne glasses, offering one to you.

“To a fun night and many more experiences like this.” Oh yeah, no, you were screwed as you watched him down the whole glass before crawling between your legs and nipping at your thighs as you shivered. “Relax, darling, I got you.”

Ryomen Sukuna:

You were minding your own business when your roommate walked into your room without knocking. You sighed, throwing your head back as you sat up, ready to start yelling, only to find him flushed and glaring at your bed. With a tilt of your head, you put your phone down, and Sukuna stepped further inside.

“Who's got your panties in a wad?”

“You’ve had sex, right?”

“I beg your pardon?!” 

“You’ve fucked. Like you’re not a virgin?”

Your cheeks burn as you chuck a pillow at his face, which does not affect him as he patiently waits for you to respond. “Why are you barging in on here asking questions about my sex life?!” He says nothing, not even attempting to explain what his reasoning for the impromptu sessions of twenty questions is for. “Oh my god, Kuna. Can you please tell me why?” His eyes roll at the attitude in your tone.

“Some of the guys at the shop were talking about sex and said it’s weird to still be a virgin at nineteen. I’m twenty-one.” 

“Yeah, so am I.”

“And I’ve never had sex.” 

His words don’t seem to compute in your brain as you blankly stare at him before laughing. “Good one, Kuna. You almost had me there for a second. You’ve never had sex, fucking hilarious.” He gets on your bed, sitting in front of you.

“I haven’t.”

“So you’re telling me the Ryomen Sukuna is a virgin?” He nods his head. “How is that even possible?! You're super confident and hot.”

He’s about to snap at you when he takes a moment to process your words. You, his very sexy roommate, thought he was hot. Your confession has him moving in closer, a sinister smirk on his face. 

“I can assure you it is very much true.” a dramatic sigh has you rolling your eyes. “If only there were someone as hot as me who would be willing to sleep with me.” His eyes moved from the ceiling towards you, lingering on your face, waiting to see if you were picking up on what he was putting down. 

“Are you asking me to take your virginity?” 

“Are you willing to help?”

An alternate version of yourself might have said no. But you would get bragging rights. You would be the one to take the virginity of Sukuna himself.  You cross your legs as you pat the spot in front of you. 

“If we do this, there are some ground rules. One, this is a no-strings-attached situation. So when I bring home guys from the bar, you won’t get pissed off.” 

Sukuna threw his head back with a laugh. “You honestly think I give a shit about the men you bring home?”

“Ah ah ah!” You have a finger in front of his face telling him to shut up. “I’m not done with our ground rules! And yes, once I’m done with you, you’ll be very jealous if I bring anyone else home. Rule number two. If you bring any lady friends home, I won’t get jealous of them.” Suddenly, Sukuna had no retort to that. “And rule number three is that we don’t make this awkward after we’re done.” 

“Right, no jealousy from you, me, and no awkwardness.” He held his hand out to you, and you gladly shook it. “Alright, so how do we do this?” 

“Kiss me.” 

For the first time since this conversation began, Sukuna suddenly realized that he had never kissed anyone. And when people typically had sex, kissing was involved. This meant not only was he going to fuck his roommate and best friend, but he was also going to have to kiss you. He wasn’t sure what he was more nervous about. Fucking you or kissing you.

You can see the wheels turning in his head from the look on his face. He was getting lost inside his brain and thinking too hard. Without hesitation, you pushed him back against the bed. Sukuna grunted as you crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. His cock was already throbbing in his boxers, your soft ass pressed against his erection, causing him to let out a deep growl.

“Stop fucking thinking.” You cupped his face in both hands and pressed your lips against his. His lips are surprisingly soft, and unsurprisingly stiff. “Relax, just go with the flow.” 

That was easy for you to say you had done this before. After taking a quick moment to clear his head, Sukuna grabbed the back of your head and brought you closer to his face. Deepening the kiss, his lips matched yours. Both of you feel fireworks go off at the same time; for a virgin, he knew how to kiss. It started slow and gentle. But the more he kissed you, the more desperate it became. He doesn’t even need to flick his tongue over your bottom lip to ask for permission because you’re the one shoving your tongue in his mouth.

He tastes so good; it’s almost like a sake with a hint of mint. His taste has you moaning as you roll your hips back up against his hard cock. He’s gripping your hips as you kiss him with every ounce of your being. Kissing Sukuna was so fucking hot.

Sukuna growls into your mouth, his hands wander further down, groping at the fat of your ass, massaging it, urging you to continue rocking up and down over his erection. This felt one million times better than his hand. All of his fantasies could not have prepared him for the friction he felt. He swears to God he’s already leaking pre-cum into his boxers because of how good you look. 

You break the kiss, pulling away a string of saliva and connecting your mouths. His hands remain on your ass as he watches you reach down, lifting your T-shirt up and over your head. Sukuna had seen you in your bra and bathing suit before. This time, this was different. Because you didn’t just leave your bra on, your bra followed your T-shirt onto the ground, revealing your perfect tits to him. 

“W-Whoa.” Sukuna’s hands leave the fat of your ass more intrigued by the softness of your breasts. He grows them in both hands, gently groping and massaging them, feeling their softness under his palms. “They’re so soft.” 

“Fuuck Kuna~” The mewls of pleasure that leave your mouth have his cock twitching in his boxers. He heard you moan when you would bring home partners from the bar or when it was late at night, and you were getting yourself off. Sukuna always thought you sounded pretty. But moaning on top of him was an experience he never imagined would happen. “Your hands feel so good.” 

He loses all self-control when you reach your hands down, pulling the drawstring of his basketball shorts. The man who had just been so nervous and unsure what to do with you flips you. You’re pinned on your back; Your heart feels like it’s about to explode as he tugs his basketball shorts down, tucking them underneath his heavy, full balls. 

His cock is a fucking monster. It’s thick, long, and bigger than any of the dildos you own. Looking at its red throbbing tip that’s leaking a fair amount of pre-cum, you lick your lips. For you know that his cock is going to hit all of the right spots at the same time. That was if he was able to fuck you without cumming the second he thrusts inside.

“Holy fuck, big dick, McGee. Fucking Christ, where have you been hiding that thing?” so Ana doesn’t know whether to laugh or be embarrassed, so he does the only other thing he can think of; and he rips your shorts and panties off. “Kuna, fuck, those were new!” 

“I’ll buy you another pair, fuck I’ll buy you ten pairs. I just can’t fucking wait anymore.” Sukuna forces your legs open and stares down at your wet, glistening pussy. “Fuck looks like she ‘s excited.”

Do you want to tell him to shut up and not stare? Yes, but it’s hard to do that when he shoves his fingers slowly inside of your wet, pulsing cunt. He works you open, relishing in the feeling of your wet, slick coating his fingers. It was so warm and sticky he could only imagine what it would feel like to have his dick inside there rather than his fingers. It was the motivation he needed to push forward and fuck you like no one had before.

You scream when he curls his fingers up like he had done before. He bites his lip as he curls them upward and finds your g-spot almost instantly. He’s putting the amount of pressure on his thumb as it circles your clit. There was no fucking way this man had never been with a woman before. Because if he hadn’t, he was a fucking sex god incarnate.

“Fuck! Fuck Kuna! Stop! I-I’m gonna squirt! A-And I don’t want you to f-freak!” 

Your roommate laughs; he fucking laughs as he stares down at you with a starved look in his eyes as if he hadn’t eaten in years. “Do it, squirt on me. I’m not like these other fucking men. I want you to squirt all over me because that means I’m doing a good job, right?” His words alone send you fucking over the edge. You scream at the top of your lungs, and you’re sure your neighbors hate you. But you didn’t care; all you cared about was the fact that this man, who is a virgin, was making you squirt so hard you see God himself.

Sukuna’s eyes widen as he witnesses a stream of clear liquid come out of you, coating his hand and his wrist, and it’s so hot. You were panting, chest rising and falling as you came down from the high of your orgasm. In between those breaths, you grab his cock and lead it directly towards your entrance.  Sukuna is shocked at your blunt nonverbal request for him to fuck you, but he’s more than happy to oblige. 

He slowly slides the tip of his cock into it, and he buckles. “Oh fuck. You felt good around my fingers, but damn, it feels like my dick died and went to heaven. Holy shit.” Sukuna, pay close attention to your facial reactions. He knows he has a big dick, so of course, you were going to need time to adjust to a size.

“Y-You can move.” You whine out as he adjusts, putting you into a mating press of all positions for his first time. “Oh my fuckin’ —Ah!” You yelp in pleasure as he pulls out just to start a brutal pace of fucking you with no remorse.

“Fuck, this cunt is so tight~ feels so good~” Sukuna presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath away. “You like that, don’t you? Like being my little cocksleeve? Mhmm fuck you feel so fucking good.” 

“Ah~! Ah! Fuuuuck!!” 

“Hah!” He growled, pressing his forehead against yours, crimson eyes staring into your soul. “That right, this virgin is fucking you so good you can’t even form coherent thoughts, can you?” 

“Kuuuuna~!” You sob as he slams in and out of you as fast and as deep as he can. Just like you had thought, his cock does hit all the right spots. He doesn’t even need to come up with a pace because he just makes up with all the cock he’s packing.

“Oh yeah, baby~ say my name~”

“K-Kuuuna!“

“That’s it~ nnngh, fuck that’s it baby. Say. My. Name~!” The head of his cock slams perfectly against your cervix. Making you cry out,

“Sukunaaa-ah-Ah!” 

Your best friend thrusts in and out of you until he’s losing control over himself and his momentum. He can’t lose control yet. He wants you to finish with him. So he kisses you just like when you first asked him to. It’s deep, and it’s hard, and it makes your toes curl. He feels so good. He tastes good. Everything is perfect in every sense of the word.

“Fuuuuck babe~ fuuuuck yes you are such a good girl, taking my cock like a good girl.” He grunts, kissing you again, his hips bucking, balls slapping the curve of your ass as he slams into you so hard the bed frame starts creaking. “You’re getting so tight around me. Are you gonna cum~? Going to cum all over my fat cock?” 

“Y-yea! G-Gonna cum! Gonna cum Kuuuna!”

Your roommate bites at your bottom lip but gently pulls it back between his teeth, letting it go before he presses his lips against it. His thrusts are messy, and he’s losing all self-control. In an instant, his thumb finds your clit circling gently around it. 

“Cum then, my pretty girl~”

You do as he commands; your legs tremble as he presses you further into the mattress, your knees brought up to your chest as he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re screaming, squirting a mess all over your bed as he fuck you through it. The intensity of clamping down and tumbling over the edge has Sukuna’s hips stilling before he begins, thrusting like a madman in and out of your tight, wet heat as he spills his come inside of you. 

You’re crying by the time his hips slow down, his body collapsing on top of you, releasing you from the position he has you in. He’s panting roughly against your neck as he growls, pulling you to lie on top of him as he plops back on the mattress while your body shakes and trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Sukuna grunts as he feels his come beginning to leak out around his cock, pulling on his lower abdomen before dripping down onto the bed

“Holy shit,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I see why people go crazy over sex.” 

“Yeah, it feels really good, doesn’t it?” You tremble with exhaustion. “God, are you sure you were a virgin? Because I don’t think anybody has fucked me that hard before.” 

“Well, I’m honored,” he grins, pushing strands of your hair back as you turn to rest your chin on his chest. Your beautiful eyes narrow as the post-orgasmic bliss washes over you like a warm blanket. In that moment, he really takes you in as a whole. Your beauty, the selflessness that you showed tonight by allowing him to sleep with you, he’s so entranced that he leans in and kisses you gently. “Say, did we make a rule about not catching feelings for each other?”

You’re too stunned to speak; his words have tased you. “Huh?” Your cheeks are flushed as your roommate scratches the back of his head as his other gently moves up and down your back.

“I know we said we wouldn’t get jealous of any partners we bring home, but if we avoid that altogether, let me take you out properly.” 

“Well, I think that’s a great idea. Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting any of these skanky bitches get a hold of that mega dick.” You kiss him back, giggling against his lips. 

“It’s all yours for the taking, babe. No need to worry about skanky bitches here.” He kisses you again, laying back against the sheets. Who knew going to his best friend for help would lead to the best thing ever happening to him?

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[star-girl69]

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.��

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

[panic-at-the-fiction]

The death of you

Summary: You and your best friend have your usual movie night except he can’t seem to keep his cuddly hands to himself and your close to physical combusting. Just a bit of your usual order of slightly angsty desired filled romance with little touch starved reader on the side.

Warnings: doesn’t go any farther than kissing just very passionate, very suggestive, Maybe I’m biased as the author, but damn it’s hot.

A/N: So I’ve been out of practice for 10 months now. Haven’t even wrote more than a paragraph that I just turned around and delete 20 minutes later these past few months. But let’s just say I found some inspiration to use for our favorite fictional men and we’ll see how this goes.

Movie night with Eddie, that’s normal, done it a million times. With friends, just the two of you, late at night, middle of day, outside, inside, at the theater, at his house, thrillers, comedies, action, romance, anything and everywhere for years. So why was this time different?

Currently you were sitting on Eddie’s couch watching the most recently picked out tape from the family video store. Steve let you guys borrow them for free as long as you brought the tape back the very next day. You guys watched movies all the time, so why was your heart beating out of your chest like a race horse on its final stretch to the finish line? Was it because his arm was around you?

No it couldn’t be that, Eddie was a big cuddler, it didn’t mean anything. He loved hugs despite his scary image in the public eyes, and he was always finding weird ways to poke, prod, or touch you. He was the type of friend to bite your shoulder when he got bored, an absolutely feral mad man type guy. And he knew that despite your lack of experience with physical affection, you never mind when it came from him. He always got your free pass.

Maybe it was the slow circles you felt him drawing on your skin? Or how occasionally his hands would slip into your hair, playing with it? Much more intimate little things that were making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin from just the hints at this new kind of physical touch.

Yep, that was definitely the issue.

You tried removing his arm from around your shoulder and instead brought it back down to his side. But when he looked at you with such confused puppy dog eyes, you caved and played it off as just repositioning yourself as you instead wrapped around his arm and leaned into his side, laying your head on his shoulder. You could never deny him anything, just another issue of being so damn in love with your best friend.

As the movie ticked on and you both stuck to your usual quiet with some slight hilarious commentary during the movie, Eddie eventually pulled you closer so that he could bury his head into the back of your neck. One of his hands came up to play with your hair some more.

You knew he wasn’t paying attention to the movie anymore. He couldn't possibly see it, the way he was laying his head into your neck. Of course, it wasn't a very intriguing movie either, just not a great pick this time. But now he was rubbing the same small circles right under your ear, this time, and every so often his hand would find itself tangled in your hair. You tried to keep yourself straight and breathing consistently without letting your mind wander too far. He had to know this! That HE was killing you slowly.

Your breath nearly hitched this time when you swear you felt him ever so lightly brush his lips against the side of your neck. Did you imagine that part? God, you hoped he would do it again.

You weren’t even questioning why he would do any of this, you just knew you had to get yourself out of there before he realized how much of a mess this was turning you into.

As the movie came to an end you swear he had brushed his lips against your neck at least twice more, and you still couldn’t tell if it was intentional.

“Eddie it’s getting late I’ll have to go home soon.”

“Yeah” he muttered into your hair, all the while holding you tighter.

You gave him, and even more importantly, yourself, another minute before attempting to pull away. “Eddie, I have to get home soon.” You sounded like a broken record as you once again tried half-heartedly to pull yourself free from him.

He only pulled you back in and buried his head into your other shoulder. His arm came around, this time drawing lines down the front of your neck, and you shook at the feeling. This time your hand came up, cupping his head and running your fingers through his hair. Which only caused him to brush his lips against your shoulder once more. That’s it, it had to be intentional.

You swore you would combust into flames if you stayed there any longer like this. As every trace down your throat made you stop breathing. “I'm going to have to be the bad guy. I have to go.” You said, completely pulling away from him this time, moving to the other side of the couch.

He groaned, but nodded as he let you move away from him this time. He ran a hand through his hair before staring at you, darker and more lovingly than you had ever seen before. “Man, you're pretty with your hair messed up.”

God, that was the final straw. You jumped up off the couch. “You can’t say shit like that, Eddie.” You ran your hands up and down your arms, trying to stop how shaken you felt. Your nerves were on high, and he was still looking at you with that same stare.

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because what?”

“You’re my best friend. You can’t sit here and hold me like that, and stare at me like that and kiss my neck softly like that and then expect me to just be able to functionally drive home like it was another normal movie night hangout.” You snapped. He had you wound up and your lack of dating experience left you mad for more touches from Eddie.

He sunk low and pain hit you in the gut. “I didn’t realize I was crossing any boundaries of our friendship.” He said, leaning back on the couch. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.”

You sat back down next to him, panicking as you realized how he took your reaction. “No, god no, no that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel uncomfortable, Eddie. EVER! I mean, it wasn’t bad like that. It was good…horribly, terribly good. The kind of good you aren’t supposed to feel when watching a movie with your best friend.” You rambled.

So this was how you were going to confess to him your feelings. Man, he had you so on edge, you would admit anything to him right now if he asked.

That almost hungry stare returned to his eyes as he looked back down at you. You had read about that stare before, many times, and honestly, you thought it was an overused phrase in romance. The hungry stare, but honestly, what else could you call a look like that?

“God, you’ll be the death of me, Eddie Munson.” You laughed, not being able to look at him as long as he stared at you with those big brown eyes.

“You should stop taking the lord's name in vain. It’s a bad habit.” Eddie whispered as he leaned closer to you, getting inches away from you. Your four heads were nearly touching, causing both of you to gently close your eyes at the feeling.

“It's funny, I didn’t have such a problem with it until now.”

You could feel his breath so close to you as your hands found their way back into his hair. He slowly dipped his head further down, leaving the same light kiss in his wake. He could feel you pull him closer and the kisses gained more pressure in a way you had been craving since he first came anywhere near you with his light touches.

As he kissed harder into your neck, your hands switched from running through his hair to almost pulling at it. You began leaning back further on the couch as you pulled him down with you until Eddie was over top of you. You wanted to give him the room to be fully on top of you, so you wrapped your legs around him as he put his whole force over you.

You felt engulfed and dazed in a way you never experienced before as he began to kiss you faster moving sporadically across your neck until he had kissed almost every square inch of you. You focused on keeping your breathing even, trying to spare yourself embarrassment from how simply he had you melting underneath him.

He pulled away from you, hovering over you with that same stare that was filled with so much adoration in it. “God, I would keep you here all night like this. Just right here, all mine, and with nowhere else to be. It’s just so satisfying to be able to wrap you up and hold you in a way I know no one else gets to.”

“You know, I think… I don’t really have to get home tonight. No one’s going to miss me if I stay here.” You said breathlessly.

Eddie grinned like the devil looking over you. “Good,” he said as he finally bent down, capturing your lips. His hand came up to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet him.

That was the last straw, you were a melted puddle that belonged to him now. If this was to be only the beginning of the evening, then surely Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

[kacievvbbbb]

I’m not someone that particularly cares about a ship being canon or not, in fact I would rather the media I consume have no romance at all (giving my blog confusing yes I know)

But there is something about the canon ties between Shanks and Mihawk that drives me feral with need to see what their whole deal is.

Because like there are so many little inconsequential details that when taking separately seem pathetic and weak. But then put together it feels like it paints the picture of a larger undeniable connection and understanding between two wildly different men.

The fact that their main color is both red (Mihawk’s is a more wine dark red than Shanks’ bright red and a little more “subtle” given that Shanks is literally called red hair) but even then their main symbols, their identifying features, are red! Mihawk’s eyes and Shanks hair (yes while I love the gold and think that’s better I cannot ignore the fact that Oda consistently colors in Mihawk’s eyes red even though the gold is infinitely more popular)

They have the same birthday, are practically the same height, both with the promises to our two main protagonists to meet them at the top with a parting “gift”, both serve as a mentor to the protagonist (mihawk literally thought zoro how to kill him 😭), both with the bird(ish) iconography.

The fact that Mihawk, Mihawk! A man whose introduction was that he didn’t care much about anything and caused destruction on a whim, cares enough about what Shanks thinks to mentally apologize before trying to kill luffy (what the fuck).

The fact that whitebeard felt the need to reference his duel with Mihawk in his conversation with Shanks, despite not really being very relevant to the conversation and the fact that this is the first we’ve seen shanks in years and it is brought up in the same context as his relationship with Buggy (an already established relationship) reveals his relationship to Roger seems to point to the fact that this duel between Mihawk and Shanks is an important relationship to shanks. It couldn’t just be to show strength because he was about to clash with whitebeard the strongest man. It’s also hard to notice that those two relationships didn’t end particularly well for shanks.

Also the fact that it was Mihawk out of every character , Mihawk that brought luffy’s bounty to Shanks. Something he obviously knew would mean a lot to him. I used to think the scene was just there to show us how big a deal Shanks actually is like look at that fun childish alcoholic gang inspired our main hero? He’s actually a super big deal and he used to spar with the strongest character by far we had seen at that point (it wasn’t even close) and they fought on equal footing. It added a new layer of mystery to Shanks.

But it’s also the fact that even now with Mihawk’s bounty Shanks was mentioned and he’s the only one who this was mentioned for. Crocodile is just for his df and intelligence and they don’t mention that he literally tried and almost succeeded in subjugating a country and he was beat by luffy “or smoker given how many marines actually know the truth” even buggy who was literally Shanks’ sworn brother under the pirate king doesn’t get a mention like that. But Shanks and this duel is so integral to Mihawk’s character that it’s mentioned along with the only other long lasting fact we know about him and that is that he is the World’s Strongest Swordsman. Isn’t that fucking insane.

And like I feel insane scrapping all these details together as proof of something because they are all (besides the duel) the barest bones of a connection but god it is actually driving me insane.

And I’m not saying Mishanks is going to become canon or that it should or that I even particularly want it too. What I do want is to see how deeply these two are connected. What are these red strings of fate tying them to each other. Why can’t apparently ten years of little contact sever it? I swear to god if it’s actually nothing much I will lose my fucking mind. If nothing ever comes of all of this I will actually go insane. How can some people look at this and not see foreshadowing!?!?!!

[fanaticsnail]

Oh god this, okay so, okay so this is obviously related to @feral-artistry s last buggy picture which I will absolutely swoon over even more tomorrow but it just gotta get this out because rose its going to haunt me but I don’t want to just drop mini fic in their inbox even though I’m INSPIRED so uh ADFSDG:

Working at the Crossguild as some sort of servant and getting a call from Crocodile on the in house Denden to “Collect that fool and escort him to his quarters.” You obviously have put two and two together and rightfully assumed the clown was drunk of his rockers, what you didn’t guess was that he also would be just lounging around in his birthday suit. Mihawk at least threw a scarf on there for your sake but makes it clear you’re still supposed to bring Buggy back to his room. “Where… uh where are his clothes?” And Crocodile shrugs and Mihawk just responds with “Not the faintest idea.”

So the most awkward walk of shame starts because you desperately try to wrap the piece of cloth around Buggy’s hips like a skirt or loincloth but he’s a wriggly fucker when he’s drunk, giggling and letting himself fall back on the couch with a “WHEEEE!” Before cackling, laughing, trying to break into song every now and then. The other two men make no effort to help. You could swear Crocodile is holding back a grin. Like he knows. Like he knows that you have a hard time being so close to Buggy with him being so touchy. Like the man you hold a fair share of not strictly platonic or professional feelings for being buck naked and you desperately trying not to look, to give him some decency, is the most entertaining show he’s seen in a while.

You finally manage to get him up and hang half walk,half drag, half carry parts of him back to his room. Buggy is still giggly and affectionate. “Fa-Fa-Fuuuaaaa-Fank you deah. You a, You a real peach.“ he looks up from the spot where he’s leaning against your shoulder and detaches his head to give you an uncoordinated kiss on the cheek. Your face flames up.

You FINALLY get this poor idiot to bed, which he flops onto like a dead fish. You turn to leave when you feel his hand tug at your sleeve. „Wh-Why donchu stay hea? I gotta…I gotta biiiiag nice bed fo tu and-„ „Sir. Sir you’re drunk.“ He pouts „I-I like you when I’m sober too.“ „I like you too sir but-„ „Den why- Den why- Ahhh. AHHHH. I see.“ he pokes your nose and wags his finger in a tsk-tsk motion. „S because you a good pesson. N you, N you see me n say „He’s nut-He’s nut able to make…Consent…he’s….heeeeees-“ uuuughhg.“ his head hits the pillow again. „You shooo good. How did you get so beautiful n good?“ You gently reattach his hand to his wrist again. „I’m- I’m still gonna- still gonna like you -s-sober.“ he repeats, right before he drifts of to sleep.

You close the door and your hand ghosts over your cheek where he kissed you. You hope he was telling the truth.

For the love of "all that was and is, and is to come," creators ADORE when you drop in their inboxes. @feral-artistry would not mind, would you dear? 👀

Her Buggy art is just amazing. The hook, the hook, the hook. Every time the hook the hook the hooooook.

My gosh, look at you coming in with full prose, anon!! Mini fic drabble of assisting the cross-guild as their errand person is my absolute favourite.

Stumbly, jumbly clown man falling apart and stuttering is way too funny. Detached head cheek kisses with breath smelling of stagnant booze? Yes. I love a man.

[shizuokadivision]

Sakura's Thoughts on Division Leaders

Ichiro Yamada 

“So this is the most famous delinquent in Ikebukuro.” Sakura sighs. “Would you be surprised if I told you I met him once during his Stairway to Heaven days? One of their members, Mozuku Shito, had tried to cheat the Kito-gumi. So I went to Ikebukuro and beat the shit out of him for pulling a stunt like that. Ichiro tried to get involved, and I gave him one warning. ‘Try and stop me, and you’ll learn what happens when you cross me.’ I think he got the message.”

Samatoki Aohitsugi 

“Despite what many would think, Aohitsugi and I are on neutral terms with each other. As you know, females in the yakuza are extremely rare, so having one as a leader? Unheard of. So when he came down to Shizuoka with his boss for a meeting with me and as much as he tried to hide it, I knew he was surprised to learn that I was the head of the Kito-gumi. Even then, I know he's cautious of me. The story of how I came to power is well-known in the criminal underworld. So as long as he and his men don't try anything in Shizuoka, we won't have any problems.”

Ramuda Amemura

“I've dealt with a few of these fuckers. They’re like cockroaches popping out of nowhere.  Chuohku sent them to deal with Reika and me. I had four of them trying to attack me one night. They weren't expecting me to fire a bullet at their mics before they could say a verse. It was easy to deal with them afterward. They were so physically weak that it wasn't even funny.” Sakura lit a cigarette. “I left them with Kanon who looked delighted to have them. Kanon told me how they were made and to be honest? I’m not even surprised Chuohku is attempting to play god. I swear if I see another one it would be too soon.” Sakura sighs. “I have a feeling though we're going to be seeing them very soon.”     

Jakurai Jinguji 

“I'm not the biggest fan of doctors after watching them for years turn a blind eye to the abuse I suffered by my so-called family but Jakurai is one of the few I trust. He has this calming way of talking to his patients and he doesn't ask any unnecessary questions. So out of everyone in the first D.R.B, I was hoping for him to win and you know what? He won. I sent him a bottle of sake to him and his team as congratulations even if he's such a lightweight. It's always entertaining to see him when he's drunk. His teammates didn't appreciate it though.”

Sasara Nurude 

“How does a comedian somehow become partners with a yakuza? No seriously how did Aohitsugi find him? He's a clown. Although I'll admit he didn't do too bad as a gang member. I had the chance to meet Nurude back when he and Aohitsugi were known as Mad Comic Dialogue. Personally, his jokes aren't to my taste but you can't win them all I guess. From what I know he and Aohitsugi had a fight over something, broke up and Nurude went back to Osaka to continue his career as a comedian. He even came to Shizuoka once I believe.” Sakura snorts. “Reika says she would pay for him not to perform if he ever comes back. Perhaps I should take Kanon and Reika to his next show in Shizuoka as payback for all the stress they give me.”

Kuko Harai 

“He was Ichiro's partner with the Stairway to Heaven. If I recall correctly they were known as the Naughty Busters. Much like with Ichiro I met Kuko when I went to deal with that double-crossing Mozuku. He was much more feral than Ichiro at least. Last I heard they had a fight that caused them to break up. Wondered what happened to cause that. They seemed to get along pretty well when I saw them. Although, I’m still not quite sure how he's a monk. His mannerisms and behavior leave little to be desired but to each his own on what they want to be.”

[xihaveaplanxx]

As I Confessed (Part One)

“He is your boyfriend. You need to talk to him.”

“I....”

“He’s going to get all of us hunted. What he did out there? He knows better. I don’t know what’s wrong with him but you need to talk to him.” Damian was ranting at me and I had no idea how to respond. Adam had his match which was fine till he actually drank from Swerve. In front of everyone. In front of humans He could easily say it was part of the match which it was Texas Death but this...what happened. How for a split moment, the bloodlust took him over. That was not good. Swerve was being tended too and Adam was in the locker room being reprimanded by the other vampires around. Especially Mox who was in charge of the vampires in this coven. I could hear the screaming from outside in the hall and I felt awful. I didn’t know what to do. I just didn’t want this brought to the hire ups but he did it on a ppv. We couldn’t possibly mind wipe ALL THOSE people and nowadays, clips get cut as soon as they happen. Everyone would know. We could hope people just thought it was part of the match...going further than before but others...others won’t believe that. Will dig and dig and find out secrets and we’d be in danger. I was concerned and Damian yelling at me didn’t help. If he wasn’t dating my best friend I’d have smacked him. Not that I could reach his face, he was much taller than me. I’d smack his chest if I’m lucky. But at least I’d do something! “Are you listening to me? Of course not. When it comes to him you will just plead and cry and tell everyone it’s not his fault but there he was drinking someone’s blood on tv. People are going to piece shit together and then what”

“Damian...I....”

“He’s been really irresponsible lately.”

“You  really have been such a hard ass since you got voted as second in command you know.”

“Yeah well maybe your boyfriend shouldn’t be potentially putting us all in danger. Mox is laying into him and he should be. Should choke his dumb ass out. Not that it would matter. Put the fear of all the Gods in him. I’m sure Mox can do damage control and Swerve doesn’t seem too bothered though he’s really tired which I get but still.... “

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to do all that.”

“But he did.” Damian crossed his arms and Mox soon left the locker room with Adam trailing behind him, head hung low. “What’s the verdict, Mox?”

“Dreama, talk to me.” He ignored Damian and Adam was standing there head low just facing a wall. I didn’t like that. I followed him and he slammed the door before turning to me. “When was the last time Adam had any blood? Be honest with me. He clearly didn’t want to tell me the truth, but you will.”

“He....”

“The truth. I know you love feral men and him being beyond feral what with how intense this feud is and what not  You are known to make whoever you are with abstain from drinking so they go out there and just react poorly. Violently...he was thirsty. Deprived.”

“It’s...it’s not what you think.”

“Oh? Then what is it?”

“I just....”

“Dreama...we went over this with everyone you get with. Do you really want him to end up like Punk?”

“He wouldn’t”

“No? He wouldn’t? Are you sure about that?”

“Adam could never be so pathetic and useless. Yes, it’s bad he drank from Swerve as he did but he’d never ever be the embarrassment that Punk is to our kind. They aren’t remotely the same. Yes Adam’s a bit more feral lately but he’s going through alot.”

“And because you are you, you want him to ose it because you think it’s cute. You did that to Punk then oh what was that....he left you for your friend.”

“Mox, I swear...I will stake you.”

“Threatening to murder a superior, I’m sure Sting would love to hear about that.”

“You are being an asshole.”

“No, you are mad I’m right. I’m getting damage control done so no one thinks anything of it , that it was just part of the match but we can not keep doing this. I should kick you both out the coven but he needs it. You though. He needs to be protected from you. He was such a nice vampire then he got with you and now he’s agreeing to not drink blood so he comes at people ravenous, getting increasingly more violent, getting darker in demeanor.  I know he won’t do it, he loves you so much but I will. From this moment forward you are not only banned from the coven, you are not together. He can’t be with you when you are like this. You need to go home. I don’t care where you go, you can’t be here. After all this. He feels so bad for what happened in hindsight but not you, I know you don’t.”

“You can’t do this.”

“I just did. Get your stuff and go somewhere.  I’d think you’d be better as you got older but sometimes I forget deep down, you just lust for control and power so much it’s just ridiculous. I thought you’d be better to Adam. Good to him but no...I was wrong. We all were.”

“Mox...dude....”

“No. You need to leave. Maybe one day we will let you back in...but not any time soon.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

A month later/Kenny’s pov

“I don’t even understand. I just...I thought Adam would at least reach out. Mox can’t control him texting or anything. Whatever. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“I think you do care.”

“I don’t.”  I could tell Dreama was upset. She had been in my apartment for the past month as she refused to go back home. She moved in with me and I didn’t mind it. I wasn’t on the road for some time and I was a bit lonely. Especially after things transpired between Matt and I that resulted in a lot of heartbreak, crying and just....that and me getting sick as I was. Everything was just snowballing and I was hiding away at this point. Dreama barely went out to drink anymore, she usually drank from me. As a mage, my blood was somewhat of a delicacy but also with how sick I been, I didn’t know if she should be indulging in it but she did. It didn’t bother her really. I thought it did when she seemed to abruptly stop but she told me that wasn’t the case.  She was pissed again and from what she told me...I kind of understood all sides. She kind of made him go feral but also...him not even trying to reach out to her was kind of sad. Especially since I followed him on everything and he was just fine...hanging out with my ex and his brother and just....not checking on her....or me....felt bad. I guess Matt told him he might as well just not talk to me since we weren’t a thing anymore but Adam was one of my best friends but I guess breakups change things.  At least he didn’t block me. There was that. Unlike Matt who blocked me on everything. Blocked my number, twitter, instagram, everything.  

“Do you want me to message him for you?”

“No.” She sighed. “You think he moved on. Maybe he found someone better. I guess. A nicer vampire. Whatever. Maybe I’m as bad as Mox says. I’m the problem. Just as bad as my ex...maybe worse.”

“Hey now, don’t compare yourself to him.”

“I can’t help it. I’m the problem. Always.”

“I think you are used to being how you usually are. It’s a lot to unlearn. I know you love Adam, I can tell but...a lot went on there. I frankly don’t think you were ready to be with anyone, but you liked him so much. You wanted things to work and it did for a while but as time went on you fell into old things. I’d like to think things aren’t over for you two forever. If he hasn’t got into contact with you, Mox probably is not letting him knowing how he’d run to find you and want to be with you. You need time. At least you have that. Matt and I are screwed. Things were said and just....we can’t fix it.” I frowned. “And I tried. I did. It hurt that I went to the hospital and he wasn’t there. You were. With a balloon for me and a bear that you ended up keeping but still.” I chuckled a tiny bit as I thought of how she presented me this cute black bear but she kept playing with it in the room. I let her keep it. It seemed she wanted it and the last thing I needed was another plush but the balloon I kept. Even if it lost its air, I tacked it to my wall because it meant alot to me. 

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do.” I patted her arm. “We can play Street Fighter if you want. I’ll even let you win.”

“You won’t let me win. I’ll actually beat you.”

“You say that alot...but you never do.”

“I will this time.”

“Alright, if you say so.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

Jenny’s pov

“I miss her.” Adam pouted at me. It had been a month and the blood drinking incident was pretty much forgotten. Girls were much more into it than we thought but eh...girls did like those things. Adam was flat out miserable. He wanted to talk to Dreama so badly but he was barred from it. Mox even deleted her information from his phone. I understood it in a way but also he was not okay. “I really do.”

“I know but you know...”

“I know.” He sighed.  “Do you think she hates me?” He asked as he leaned his head on my shoulder. Dreama did text me from time to time. She spent all her time with Kenny which...I didn’t know how to feel about that.  She always had an interest in him , and it made me wonder. After all they were both single at the moment but still. She sent me some photos mostly of her and Kenny or just of Kenny sleeping and her drawing on him. She did mention missing Adam alot at first but now...it seemed she just was coming to terms with what was going on even if it bothered her. “Does she even mention me? I know you talk”

“She does. She does miss you.”

“I never blamed her for what went on. I could have told her no but I wondered myself how long I could last with no blood and what happened with Swerve was both our fault admittedly. I don’t think she’s anything like her ex. Hell her ex was a piece of shit to me. He was horrible to me and she doesn’t treat me like him remotely.  She....I just maybe we went out too quickly. Kenny used to tell me he felt we rushed into things but I adore her....I miss her. Do you think one day we can fix things...will Mox even let it. I know he  brought what happened to Sting and you know...he’s one of the big dogs in our coven. He wasn’t happy and he hated that she had to leave like that but he said she was an issue since TNA. I just...want us to be together again.”

“Aw...well if she is actually working on herself...I’m sure you will be back together. After all you are her sweetieface as she always told me.”

“I always loved that nickname.” He smiled a tiny bit. “Jenny, I always wondered. Since you are an alien? Does your blood...make Damian sick? I know some aliens..it depends.”

“I’m also part fairy.” I added “But no. It doesn’t. The fairy mix in it is very...good, he tells me. He tries not to feed from me often though. As he is taller and more imposing than normal vampires, he worries that he hurts me but he doesn’t.”

“Wow. Damian is kind of scary.”

“I can see how you say that but he’s a big mush ball. At least for me. He just takes his job as second in command seriously and protecting the others. I get it.”

“I guess...I just....I’m sorry I’m not fun to talk to right now. I just....I’m sad.”

“It;s going to be okay.” I patted his head. “If you just want to sit and watch something...that’s fine too. Or just lean on me. I’m here for you.”

“You know, you are such a good friend.” Adam told me. “Thank you for being there.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” I told him. “You are my friend...I’m going to care for you.”

“Well...I’m just glad you are here.”

“Of course.” I told him as he leaned on me and pulled out his phone. Dejected that there was no text or notification from Dreama. “It’s going to be okay, Adam.”

“I hope so because right now...it doesn’t feel like it ever will be.”

“

[wkemeup]

Play Pretend

summary: When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 7.8k warnings: smut (18+), sex pollen (with as much consent as one can have in a dub/con trope)

“What in the—” you slammed an elbow to the nose of the assailant behind you, “holy,” a quick right jab to another coming up on your left, “godforsaken,” a knee plunged straight to your ribs and you kicked to the assailant who managed to get one up on you, “hell, Rogers!”

Another body fell to the ground and settled at the collection at your feet.

Dripping in sweat, heart pounding in your chest, and your body short of giving out completely, you slumped a shoulder against the cold frame of the wall. Down the hall, at least a dozen more Hydra agents were barreling towards you.

There was no response on the coms; not that you expected as much. The Hydra base in Munich you were tasked with rigging to blow was meant to be abandoned. Nothing left but a dozen empty cells and decades of barbaric research no one should ever lay eyes on again.

Seemed Captain Roger’s intel was just slightly off. Tell that to the series of bodies lying in your wake.

“You better send backup, Rogers, or I swear to God I’ll haunt your star-spangled ass for all eternity,” you grumbled to the broken transmission as you attempted to square up. Fists out ahead of you, swaying slightly on weakened legs, a dizziness in your vision making it hard to tell exactly how many men were charging straight at you.

“What? I’m not enough for you?” Bucky suddenly appeared on your right, chuckling to himself as he released the empty magazine from his weapon and quickly replaced it with a new one. Blood was soaked into his hair line, mixing with the sweat beaded on his forehead, and he brushed the back of his hand against his face to smear it back into his hair.

“About time you showed up. Making me do all the hard work myself,” you scoffed, shooting him a teasing smile as you eyed the hallway he came rushing in from.

He insisted you’d be out in time for movie night back home if the two of you split up, divided the C4 amongst you and met back at the quinjet in twenty. Not even his super soldier instincts could have predicted this place would be overrun with stray Hydra agents looking for a rematch.

One of the agents opposing you whipped out a handgun and Bucky jumped forward, using his left arm as a shield. The bullets ricocheted across the room, puncturing into another Hydra agent who collapsed to the ground clutching his knee.

You exhaled a heavy breath, the edges of your lips dipping down into a frown as you watched more agents stepping over the bodies of their colleagues and advancing down the hallway. You glanced up at Bucky, watching as he weighed the rifle in his hands, bouncing it lightly. It was running low on ammo.

“You get anyone on coms yet?”

“Nothing. We’re on our own.” Bucky gritted his teeth, firing a few rounds down at the mass of Hydra agents swarming their way towards you. It knocked a few of them down, at least.

You started to take a few steps in their direction, yanking a knife from the spine of an agent on the ground before you whipped it down at the ones ahead of you, knocking another to the ground. The echo of gunfire tore through the cramped hall again and it left a pile of men at the front lines.

Four left.

“That was my last round,” Bucky grunted, tossing the weapon to the floor as he tugged a small blade from the holster on his thigh. He smirked as he glanced over at you through the corner of his eye. “Who do you want?”

You shrugged, studying the four agents who came to a slow halt at the opposite end of the hallway. The two on the left looked about as you’d expected from Hydra agents; tall, dark haired, with shoulders twice as wide as their hips and a vicious kind of look in their eyes. Then, a blonde-haired woman who couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Bucky, a hand resting impatiently on the knife against her hip. Last, a man who towered at least two feet above the others with a long, jagged scar covering most of his face.

“I’ll take the two on the right.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, glancing between you and your chosen assailants. The taller one cracked his neck to the side and bared his teeth.

“You’re sure?”

You feigned offense; a hand pressed your heart as you took a few steps forward, sliding the batons out from the holsters along your shoulder blades and twirling them between your fingers. “You underestimate me, Barnes. You think I’d let you have all the fun?”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head as he jogged to catch up with you, disregarding the battle cries of the Hydra agents as they advanced as if it was only ever the two of you in the room. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.”

The blonde woman stared to advance on Bucky, eyes trailing him up from his boots to the top of his head with a devilish kind of look in her stare. She licked at her lips hungrily, as if she was ready to take a bite into him, though he paid her no mind as he rushed at the two men to her right.

“Hey, Barbie!” you called, waving a baton in the air to grab her attention. “Looks like your stuck with me.”

She glared at you, pausing in her strut for only a minute, but it was all you needed. You sprinted towards her, using the wall as leverage as you jumped up against the frame to propel yourself into her. Baton at ready, you slammed down into her collarbone as she let out a yelp and fell down to the ground. It didn’t take her long to get back on her feet and when she did, her knife was nestled tight into her grip, a new kind of intrigue on her face as she stared you down.

“Need any help over here?” Bucky called out from the end of the hallway as he ducked under the right hook of one of his assailants. He clipped one in the knees, sending them spiraling to the floor with a pained shout, before he smirked over in your direction.

“Mind your business, Barnes!” You rolled your eyes as a smile crept up against your lips.

Barbie took a single glance back at Bucky before her eyes returned to you and there was something darker within her stare you didn’t quite notice, or perhaps you simply mistook it for enemy territory. Either way, when she raised her arm with knife in hand, you whipped around the baton in a backhanded strike, sending the knife flying down the hall. Unarmed, she stared at you with wide, fearful eyes, until you knocked her out with a final hit to the side of her. Nothing fatal, but it would keep her under until backup arrived to hull her in.

Bucky was still fighting off his second attacker as you approached the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, patiently waiting. He pushed himself off the wall, cracked his knuckles between his palms with sharp snaps that echoed down into the hallway.

“Think you can take me, little girl?” he taunted, voice low and thick, like it had gone years in disuse. He made a show of the way he settled into his stance; fists held out in front of him, shadow boxing in an attempt to intimidate you. It seemed to catch him off guard when you rolled your eyes.

“It’s been a long day,” you shrugged, “and frankly, I’d like to go home. So, let’s make this quick.”

The arrogant smirk dropped from his face, replaced quickly with a wash of rage that a woman half his size would dare mock him in such a way. But he was clumsy in his stance and in his swings, so you saw each of his moves coming a mile ahead. With every right hook, you slid under his arm and stepped out behind him. In every jab, you side stepped out of reach. He exhausted himself while you made little effort in your defense. Without a single offensive throw, he was panting in a matter of minutes.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he bellowed, loud enough to make Bucky pause for a moment and you winced as his assailant took advantage of the moment to get in a punch to his jawline. He recovered quickly, giving you the security to face your own attacker head on. The Hydra giant was dripping in sweat, red in the face, teeth bared and near feral. “Fight me!”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

As he threw his next swing, you met it with the brunt of your baton, stilling him in his stance. He stared at you, wide eyes and jaw slacked, as you winked at him and dove under his legs. Before he could manage to turn around, you flicked at switch at the bottom of the batons which emitted an electrical pulse from the top edge and plunged it into the man's neck.

He convulsed, gargling out a few incoherent words, before he collapsed to the floor at your feet. You grinned, sliding the batons into the holsters at your shoulder blades.

“Alright, I take it all back,” Bucky’s voice chuckled from behind you. “You don’t need me at all.”

You laughed, shaking your head as several strands fell down into your face, lost to the bun at the top of your head in the struggle. As you turned to face Bucky, you found him standing with his hands planted on his hips and the brightest smile on his face, one that took him years to find again since you first met him and damn if it wasn’t one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

But then, there was a sudden rush of movement on the ground. One of the Hydra agents wrestled back up to his feet behind Bucky, a malice imbedded deep into his glare, a determination as he rushed forward.

There was little time to think as you lunged for the knife you broke free of the blonde agent’s hand and whipped it across the room. It plunged straight into the man’s jugular and he fell backwards, hands sliding out from around Bucky’s neck as blood coated the tile floors.

“Shit,” you panted, hands on your knees. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

Slowly, heart pounding in your chest, you glanced up to find him pulling a syringe from his neck. He stared at it for a second, stunned as a few stray droplets dripped from the edge of the needle before he dropped it to the ground, letting it slip out from his fingers limply. The vile was empty as it rolled along the tile and settled against the dead body of its owner.

“Bucky?”

There was a sudden, paralyzing dread that swept over his features, one that seemed to worsen as his eyes fell upon yours. Then, his knees started to buckle, his stance falling unsteady and you rushed forward, darting under his arm to catch him before could lay amongst the bodies of Hydra agents. He was shaking, hands trembling, and you could feel the sharp rise and fall of his breath as you held him steady.

“We have to get you out of here,” you said, trying to push down the panic etching its way up your spine, but Bucky shook his head.

“No time.” It was all he could mutter out.

“Bucky, you've just been injected with God knows what and we need to get to you a medic or—”

“There,” he grunted, pointed to an open room at the end of the hallway. With a thick, metal door and dozen locks lining the outside, it was more of a cell than a room. You started to shake your head, but Bucky gripped tight to your arm. “Y/n, please.”

You watched him carefully, noticed how he couldn’t seem to meet your eye, how sweat was beading at his hairline more profusely than it was in the midst of a battle, how his breaths were broken and trembling on every exhale.

“Okay, okay. Hold on.” You slowly guided him to step over the bodies at your feet, most unconscious, others not as lucky, and swiftly led him into the cell. It seemed to put him at ease as you aided him to sit on one of the metal chairs at the center of the room. As you released your touch from his arm, a rush of what appeared to be pain twisted into his facial features though he tried to hide it.

“So, what do we do now?” you asked. “I could try to find the lab. They could have counteractants to whatever this is. Or I could try to fix the coms... but we all know Parker’s a lot better with that stuff than I am.”

You laughed, trying to ease the tension in the room, but it was so thick you could have cut through it with the blunt edge of your baton. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the floor, his hands curling around the undersides of the chair until the metal warped under his grip.

“You need to leave.”

Your smile dropped. “What? No, are you crazy? I’m not leaving you alone after—”

“Go!” His voice boomed against the walls and you tried not to let the shock startle you.

“Bucky, stop. That’s not happening.” You dug your fingers into your hips as you paced back over the door, stole a quick glance in both directions. It was still empty save for the bodies lying in your wake. It seemed you and Bucky were entirely alone. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “We’ll figure something out, okay? We always do. This can’t be worse than the time we were buried in that old chevy under twelve feet of snow in Alaska last year, can it?”

You shot him a grin, hoping to ease him, though it did little use. His face was red, jaw stoned. He looked like he was barely breathing.

“You’re not hearing me,” Bucky groaned, his voice molding into something darker. “You're not safe here. You need to leave. Now. Before I... Before I can’t control this. Before I hurt you.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes. “What are you talking about? Do you… Do you know what that stuff was?”

Bucky clenched his jaw, turning away from you the best he could. He let out a pained groan and kicked the chair out from under him. It slammed against the wall with a harsh clash and forced a skip in your heartbeat, a hand darting up to your chest. Bucky leaned over the table, trying to find support, but he ended up gripping onto the sides hard enough to dent imprints in the shape of his hands.

You rushed forward, desperate to help because you couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain, and placed a hand on his shoulder. It touched upon the thick straps of Kevlar for only a second, and still, it was enough to elicit a visceral reaction. He whined, something between a moan and cry, and he slumped down out of your reach.

“Don’t touch me,” Bucky warned, though his voice broke in the effort. His breaths were labored and heavy, and still it seemed as though he could barely get one in. “Please. You—You have to get away from me. I’m— I’m begging you.”

Bucky choked back a cry, biting down hard on his lower lip, and it was then you noticed his right hand palming at the hardened outline nestled tight against his thigh. He pressed the heel of his left into his eyes, shame burning hot against his ears and cheeks and trailing down in red patches along his neck. He tried to hide behind his hair, hide from you, but it was enough; you recognized what this was.

It was a serum created by Hydra in the seventies, meant to create inhumans of their own design when the clinical measures were proving unsuccessful. It was created to induce a euphoric state, a primal need beyond personal control, to put its host through hell until Hydra had what it wanted: a viable chance at an inhuman child.

“Bucky,” you called gently, though all you earned was a whimpered grunt in response. Slowly, you crossed the plane of the room to him and laid a hand against his collar. His eyes fluttered shut in response, his whole body keenly alert to every touch.

“You should leave,” he warned again, his gaze slowly drawing up to meet your own; a glossy shine shielded over a stunning ocean blue. “Let me... let me take care of this on my own. I’ll be f-fine.”

“It’ll be agonizing,” you told him, having remembered the speech Tony gave a few months back after the team first encountered the serum in Peru. “It won’t kill you, but it will feel pretty damn close. Nothing you do on your own will relieve it. It doesn't work like that. You need someone to help you through this.”

He shook his head. “No. I won’t-- I won’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to,” you replied gingerly, drawing your hand up along his arm, tracing over swells of muscle as watching the way a shiver followed so tenderly in your wave. You rested your hand along his cheek, brushing your thumb under his eyes. He was scorching hot. You smiled at him, something soft and gentle, something sad. “I’m offering, Bucky.”

“No,” he grunted out. “I—I can’t. I won’t.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall to the side. It was remarkable he was able to hold himself back this long, let alone decline an offer when presented to him. You’d heard the stories of men to devolved to a near primal state, who attempted to jump the first person they saw and fought their way to release. Bucky was determined to spare you, even as you offered, even knowing that turning you down would put him through a world of pain.

“Okay,” you conceded. “Tell me what you need. Tell me something I can do, Buck, because I can’t just watch you in pain like this.”

Bucky stared at you, pupils blown wide, almost as if he could see right through you.

“Need to get this off,” he finally admitted, eyes drifting down to his suit.

“Okay,” you replied steadily. “Do you want help?”

He shook his head, his stare glued to the floor, but you could see the way his hands were reaching out for you, how he had to keep himself in check and hold them firmly at his sides. He tried to unfasten the buckle at his chest himself, but within seconds he let out a hallowed cry, dropping his head in defeat.

“Hurts,” he exhaled, and slowly his eyes came back up to yours. He forced out a halfhearted smile the best he could. “Can you...?”

You returned the nervous smile, as you took a cautious step forward. He followed your every move as your hands extended towards his chest, fingers clipping the buckles easily as they unsnapped down his jacket. Each one left a new breath of relief in its wake, like he was just on the edge of the surface, under only a few inches of water.

Your hands slid under the seams, helping to slip the sleeve down his right arm, and Bucky choked back a moan. His eyes fluttered shut, lips parted just slightly, and you jumped back.

“Sorry,” he muttered. His cheeks were near on fire.

“It’s alright, Buck. It’s not your fault.” You reached out for him again. “Here, let me help with your belt.”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” His hands were shaking as he started to fidget with the buckle. He swayed on his feet, trying to find some relief. As he unfastened the latch and unbuttoned the hem of his pants, his eyes flashed up to you. He exhaled a heavy breath. “Can you... Christ... can you turn around?”

The look on his face, the shame radiating from every ounce of him, shattered you right to your core. You nodded quickly, turning your back to him and making your way to the door. He needed privacy – of course, he did. He didn’t need you around to bear witness to the consequences of Hydra’s newest attempt to leave him powerless and vulnerable.

But just as you approached the door, Bucky called out quietly, “don’t go.”

You stilled in an instant, though you didn’t dare to turn around.

“It, um,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think it helps if you’re here. If that’s alright.”

“Need something to look at, huh?” you laughed, trying to make light of the impossible position he was in, and you were thankful for the short chuckle you heard behind you.

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll. You’re the only one here,” he replied, a teasing back in his tone, and no matter how tense it was or how forced it felt, it made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, shaking your head. Leave it to the two of you to find the humor in a situation like this. Biting down on your lip, you tried to suppress the grin, though it did little use.

Then, you heard the soft fall of his shirt to the floor. Quickly followed by the pants of his suit, dropping to the ground in a heap. He exhaled a breath that sounded as though he hadn’t done so in years and you found yourself wondering what he looked like standing there behind you, naked and aching, harder than he’d ever been in his life.

“Swear you won’t tell Sam about this.”

You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek to hold back another laugh. “No promises.”

“Y/n.”

“You’ve got to be in crippling pain, Buck. You don’t have time to be embarrassed right now,” you shot back teasingly. “Stop edging.”

“Fine, okay,” he grumbled back, though you could hear the light in his voice, even if it was a little tense. “Just… give me a second.”

The room became impossibly quiet, painfully so, and you waited under bated breath for something to happen. The smile slowly left your lips, fading into a restless frown as you listened intently to his labored breathing, the tight groans of pain, until finally, his hand circled around the base of his cock.

The whine that left his lips was near sinful, and you felt your own breath hitch in your chest as you listened to soft whimpers parting his lips as he stroked himself, covering his length in the precum dropping at his tip. Heavy breaths and wet pumps of his closed hand around his cock, and you clenched your thighs together, wondering how his eyes might travel over your frame.

But God – those sounds he made were beautiful. You could picture him tugging his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut, his shoulders slacking, knees falling a little weak the harder he gripped at himself. Little murmurs of ‘oh god,’ and ‘fuck yes,’ and ‘please’ as he fucked his fist.

You didn’t know how much time had passed by, but your lip was nearly chewed raw, nails indented into the palms of your hands. You could hear how close he was, how his movements picked up in pace, how his breaths labored, how his moans filled the room higher and higher until – it stopped.

Sudden and aching, he lost it before the fall and your heart broke as you heard him cry out in pain.

“Bucky?” you called softly, not daring to turn around to face him after he asked you not to. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hands clenched tight, and you swore your knees would buckle out from under you if you unlocked them for even a second.

“Fuck, I… I can’t...”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you tried again, worried. There was a panic in his voice that wasn’t there before, a desperate longing etched into every syllable, and it scared you.

“I can smell you,” he said simply, achingly.

Your breath hitched and you squeezed your legs together. There was a throbbing there, an emptiness you couldn’t quite shake. “Do you... Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” he replied quickly and you could tell he was contemplating his options. He was growing desperate and that lingering sense of control he maintained was slipping through his fingers. “No, I— You were right. I can’t do it on my own. I need—fuck. I need…”

“Just ask,” you offered again, head tilting just enough to the side that he could see your face but you kept your stare to the wall. “I’m here. I’m saying yes. Just tell me what you need.”

“You.”

It surprised you as he said it; a little lower, a little darker, but certain.

Slowly, you turned to face him.

Sculpted by Michelangelo himself, Bucky carried the most beautiful lines across his body; divots along muscles and carvings of delicate design. You could tell he expected your eyes to fall straight to his shoulder, to the mess of scars and metal he loathed, or to the vulnerability standing hard in his grasp, but instead, you kept your gaze focused on his eyes.

Bucky stood completely naked before you, his right hand still pumping slowly around his cock as you edged forward. He watched you, biting at his lip as he flicked his thumb over his tip. Eyes trailed down over your frame greedily, hungrily, as if the act of simply looking was enough to draw a twitch from his cock. He tugged his lip between his teeth, tightening his grip around himself.

As you came up beside him, you reached up and sat your hand against his right shoulder, watching how he closed his eyes in response, how his jaw slacked. His lazy thrusts evened out, slowing down, as you traced your hand down his arm, simply lost in your touch. Your hand slid down his bicep, over raised muscle, along his forearm to his wrist, and then, you gently nudged his hand from his cock and replaced it with your own.

His lips fell open, a slight tremble in his breath as you gripped him. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, leaning against you as he caged you to what appeared to be an interrogation table. You felt the warped metal against your thighs from where he’d clutched at it just moments earlier.

Steadily, you began to pump him in your hand, careful to spread the wet of his precum down his shaft. He was hard within your grasp, painfully so, enough that you could feel the crystal outline of a vein running up along the underside. You pressed your thumb against it as you slid your hand up to his tip and brushed it over his slit. The whine he released against your neck was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.

“This okay?”

“S’good.” He nodded meekly against your collar but you could feel the strain in his shoulders, the restraint that left his jaw wired shut and breaths tight.

“It’s not enough, though. Is it?” you asked gently, though you knew the answer. You knew what he needed and your hand, or even your mouth, would not be enough. The Hydra scientists knew what they were doing when they designed this. It had a very specific purpose and it would not yield for anything less.

“You don’t have to, Y/n,” he said, stronger than you’d heard his voice since he was injected. It took nearly all his strength.

You smiled, letting your free hand cup at the side of his face. He leaned into the touch, seeking more, almost instinctively. Bucky was a complicated man; capable of light-hearted jokes in the middle of a warzone and an immeasurable guilt and shame that had not left him in his years since he was freed from Hydra. He was your closest friend, your partner in the field, a man that you trusted above all others, a man you cared for in ways he would never quite understand.

“I’m here, Bucky. I’ve got you,” you whispered sweetly, but you could still feel his hesitance. “Listen to me, I’ll leave if you really want me to. I’ll stop if this isn’t what you want. But please, don’t send me away and leave you suffer through this alone because you think I don’t want you. I do, Buck. I want you. I want to make you feel good. I want to take away your pain. Let me.”

He stared at you for a moment, a strange mixture of disbelief and longing upon his features. Slowly his hands lifted from the table and felt for the clasp at the back of your suit. You nodded at him, and slid the zipper down your spine, exposing perfect, untouched skin. He pealed it down along your shoulders, over your chest and down your waist. You helped him remove it down to your feet and kicked it off to the floor beside his own.

His eyes drifted to your chest, hands itching to reach out, but he held them firm at his sides.

“It’s okay, Buck. You can touch me,” you told him, reaching behind your back and releasing the clasp of your bra. The straps fell down your shoulders and you let the fabric slip from you. Bucky swallowed, his eyes drifting to your exposed chest. A smile started to curve upon your lips the longer he stared at you, like you were something to revere.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself, as if saying it purely for the state of fact.

Your heart skipped a beat, lips parting in a slight shock, and you wondered if this was what it was like for the women he brought home on cold, lonely nights from the bar. You’d seen the content smiles on their faces in the morning as they sauntered out of his room with messy hair and a blissful kind of look in their eyes.

Bucky wasn’t the cold, calculating man the papers made him out to be. He was kind, exceptionally sweet, and a selfless to a fault. You didn’t suspect he was any different in a bedroom.

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I never thought this would be how—"

But then— his face started to contort and suddenly Bucky was keening over. He clutched at his stomach, digging his nails deep into the muscle and he nearly collapsed to his knees.

“Bucky!”

You grabbed a firm hold of his right arm, just enough to keep him steady, and even the smallest of touches alone seemed to ignite something in him. Goosebumps littered his skin and a sweet kind of whine escaped past his lips as you ran a hand soothingly along his spine.

“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time,” you warned gently. It was a miracle within itself he was still on his feet. This serum had put ordinary men into shock within minutes if they didn’t find release. Never enough to kill them, but just enough to make them wish it would.

Bucky followed you back to the table at the center of the room, his hand clasped tightly in your own. It was the most physical affection you’d shown for one another, a tenderness outside of the rush of foreign chemicals in his veins, and you tried not to think about the fallout you were bound to find after.

He helped to guide you onto the table, resting your back against the cool, metal surface. Then, slowly, he crawled on top of you. His eyes drifted down to your panties and you lifted your hips for him, giving him the permission he needed to pull them down your legs.

His hand slid down along your curves, drawing goosebumps in his wake, until he swiftly slid his fingers between your thighs. Dipping into the wetness at your core, he spread his fingers around, lubricating himself until he slid two easily inside of you.

“Oh, Bucky,” you moaned, back arching as he pumped them against your walls. “God, that feels—so good.”

His left hand was curled tightly into a fist near you head as he propped his body weight up against the arm; gears whirring, the scars at the base of his shoulder red in the strain of it. One quick glance at the tension coating his muscles, the sharp breaths in his chest, the whine as his cock touched your thigh, and you were pulled swiftly from the clouds, a startling reminder why you were doing this in the first place.

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you told him, a little breathless as he added the third finger. “I’m fine, Buck. You need to come. This isn’t about me.”

He shook his head, determined. “You’re not ready yet.”

You chuckled, a heat of embarrassment washing over you, even as he scissored his fingers, stretching your walls. You had to choke back a moan and the urge to clamp your thighs together around his wrist.

“I’m more than ready,” you said, voice a little higher, hands clenching at the sides of the table as you felt your walls tightening around his fingers. “Trust me, Buck. Just listening to you touch yourself was enough.”

You laughed again but the room was thick in tension, almost unbearably so. Bucky could hardly hear you. His hair had fallen down to shield his face, his gaze focused on where his fingers were lost to the most intimate parts of you; determined.

“It has to be good for you,” he muttered out slowly. You narrowed your eyes on him, growing worried as he seemed to retreat within himself. He was distant, his mind far away from his body. “It has to be good… it has to be good for you otherwise… otherwise I’m… I’m...”

He wouldn’t say it but you knew what he meant.

“Bucky, come back to me.” You reach up and grabbed a firm hold of his cheeks, thumbs at his jawline, and drew his attention to your eyes. It took him a moment to get there, but you found ocean blue again, even if it was clouded in dark, stormy skies. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about how I feel, alright? Just do what you need to, I’ll be fi—”

“I won’t use you like that!” Bucky snapped defiantly, startling you. “I don’t care that it feels like my skin is on fire and there’s knives carving through my body. I don’t care that I feel like I’m going to pass out and everything in me is fighting to force my way onto you and take what I want regardless of what it does to you! I don’t care! You’re my best friend and I… I…” He was panting, red in the face, and he couldn’t seem to find his words. He swallowed, though it looked as though it burned. “It has to be good for you, okay?”

You nodded, running your hands gently along his arms; his left, solid metal, unwavering, and his right trembled deep within the tissue – the gentle movements of his forearm pressed up against your stomach, his fingers searching out a pleasure he so desperately needed you to feel.

“I…” he started before he clenched his jaw. A heavy exhale followed, a drop of his gaze, and he muttered out weakly, “I need to pretend this is real.”

Your lips parted in shock; heart stammering so painful in your chest you wondered if he could hear it. Before you could say anything, before you could ask him what he meant by that, Bucky let his fingers slip out from between your legs, resting slicked against your thigh. The emptiness was startling.

“I think you’re ready for me now.”

Bucky nestled himself between your legs, lined his length your entrance with a gentle sweep of his top through your folds. He shivered, something near violent as it shook through his spine, and you were reminded again that Bucky was suffering, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins that ripped away his control and left him powerless to Hydra.

His skin was flushed red, sweat beading on his forehead and down his neck. There were sharp marks in the palm of his right hand where he dug his own nails into his skin. His breaths were coming in quickly and uneven.

“Look at me,” you ordered, stern enough to draw his attention. “Don’t hold back. You need to get this out, okay? I will tell you if it’s too much.”

It took him a moment, a breath of contemplation, before he nodded; slow and hesitant. You could see the strain in his jawline, the tension in his shoulders from how much he was restraining himself. It must have been agonizing, but Bucky had been through worse in his life. You supposed pain had become a familiar friend, one he learned to tame and control, even when it ripped him apart.

The moment he pressed his tip past your entrance, as he bottomed out in one thrust, as he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him for the first time, Bucky nearly came on the spot. He gasped into your shoulder, sucking marks against your skin as he rolled his hips against you. Slow and steady at first, reveling in the feel of being consumed whole, of being taken so well, of a rush of endorphins and pleasure he’d never felt even in the peak of sex. Everything was heightened, every touch was immaculate; he could feel your heartbeat through the walls squeezing at his cock.

“Oh, f-fuck,” he moaned against your ear, breath hot, voice dangerously low. “Fuck you feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking good. Goddamn perfect.”

You nodded, arms circling up around his shoulders as you rolled your hips to meet his own. You could still feel the stone carved tension in his muscle, how much he was holding back from what he needed. He was trying to be gentle with you, loving in a way the serum was not designed for, but it was testing him. He wouldn’t give into it, not in the way you asked him to, because Bucky had already lost so much to Hydra, already lost pieces of his mind and body, he would not let them take his soul, too.

“Just for you.” The words passed through your lips before you could quite catch onto their meaning. Your hands slipped down his chest as you brushed your thumbs against his nipples. He moaned, hips picking up in pace. He needed the encouragement, you realized. It was the only way he’d allow himself the release he needed to free his body of that serum.

He needed to pretend it was real.

He needed to pretend that you weren’t laying upon a cold, unforgiving table in an old Hydra base, that maybe this was something more than the consequences of a vile he didn’t ask for.

The line between the fantasy and reality was painfully thin.

“F-fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbled breathily. The table began to squeak with every snap of his hips, with every drag of his cock at your core, the brush of his tip to the sweetest spot. It was easy to lose yourself in him, to forget that you were in an abandoned Hydra cell, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins determined to destroy him. He felt like heaven.

“S’all yours,” you whispered, drawing your hands down along his waist, slipping over his hips and gripping into the soft flesh of his ass. You pulled him deeper into you, daring him to go further. His pupils were blown so wide, you could barely see the blue in his eyes. He was slipping, barely holding into the restraint he so desperately clung to, and you rolled your hips at just the right angle, squeezed him enough to draw a mangled cry from his lips.

You kissed at the dip of his collar, sucking sweetly as he all but purred in response. Your lips mapped a path up his neck, along his jaw line, over cheekbones and at the tip of his nose, until you paused at his mouth. His heart was pounding, thunderous in his chest, and his hips seemed to pick up in pace with every kiss.

It wasn’t until you captured his lips against your own that Bucky lost the last ounce of control he had been clinging onto.

Something like a growl purred against your lips, a sound near feral, and the gentle push of his hips like ocean waves against you turned into quick, harsh snaps. He pulled his lips from you, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, until he found the place he was looking for and sunk his teeth to the crook of your shoulder.

“Ah, Bucky!”

All consuming. Feverish. A man untamed and he did not relent, not as your walls tightened around him like the twist of a coil, or as the sound of skin and wetness between your legs echoed high into the room, or when his fingers touched at your clit and rubbed harsh, quick and pressured circles until you were crying out so loudly, it must have carried through the whole base.

“Fuck! Ah, God, Bucky, don’t stop!”

Bucky groaned against you, sucking a mark where his teeth had met your flesh. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, the pulse of his cock in your cunt, the thick vein that ran along his underside as it added so sweetly to the pressure at your entrance. It was wild and unhinged, but God – it was good.

“Y-yeah, baby, right there,” Bucky moaned, his thrusts falling uneven, haphazard, needy. “F-fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—ah, ah, f-fuck—”

The heat of him, the way he filled you so perfectly, the rush, and it pushed you over the edge. White hot and intoxicating, the wash of it broke open in floodgates and swept through you. His fingers did not let up on your clit as you squirmed and withered below him, his thrusts falling lazy as he chased the end of his release.

Breathless and a little dizzy as you came down from your high, you felt his heartbeat inside of you; quick, but even. The serum had done its work. It released him from its hold.

Bucky was panting, the full of his weight having fallen onto you. His hair was wet with sweat, messy and untamed, and the room smelled distinctly of sex. But more than that, it was unbearably silent.

Slowly, Bucky began to pry himself off of you, allowing his softened cock to slip from between your legs, slick and satisfied. He swallowed, a blush creeping onto his cheek as he pushed his hair behind his ear.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You chuckled, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him quickly tug his pants back on before he bent down and picked up your suit for you, handing it gingerly to you upon the table with a shy sort of smile.

“Alright? I’m great.” You grinned over at him, glowing in the aftermath of your release. “You feel okay now?”

He nodded, a nervous smile tugging on his lips as he watched you jump down from the table and step into your suit. His eyes must have lingered on your thighs where his cum was still slick along the skin from his release because his smile began to fall, his jaw tightly clenched.

“SHEILD has me on birth control, Buck. Don’t worry about that,” you told him softly. You tugged the sleeves back up your arms, though it proved difficult with the lingering sweat on your skin. You flipped your hair over your shoulder and turned your back to him. “Do you mind?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling forward to zip up the back of your suit. He brushed a few stray strands of hair over your shoulder, the gentle sweep of cool metal a relief against the hot flush of your skin; impossibly tender for a man capable of the things he was.

“So,” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice as he grasped hold of the zipper, “should we talk about this or—”

“Bucky? Y/n? You guys read me?”

Steve.

“Seems the coms are back on,” you sighed, stepping to the side after Bucky finished zipping your suit. He was still holding his tactical vest in his hand, along with the one-armed jacket. His hair was untamed, cheeks flushed, and you imagined you looked of the same.

“We got you, Steve,” Bucky replied, though it seemed rather reluctant. “Where you been, man? You dropped us in a warzone.”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” Steve grumbled back. “Get to the jet. We’ll debrief on the way back. Don’t forget to rig the place to blow on your way out.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at Bucky as he slipped his jacket on. “Certainly, can’t forget the one thing you sent us here to do.”

“Unless you’ve got more Hydra agents hiding in the wings?” Bucky added on and you could practically see Steve deadpan from the cockpit.

“Just get out of there before I come get you myself.”

You laughed as you slid the batons back into the holsters at your shoulder blades.

It was strange, how quickly it felt as if nothing had changed at all. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was a quick release and you were simply helping a friend. Maybe it was something neither of you would speak of again and you’d go right back to being partners, friends, as if it never happened.

But as you turned around at the edge of the room, a smile wide upon your face, you found Bucky watching you with a kind of look in his eye you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t one you recognized, wasn’t one you’d seen in him before. It was something new.

His eyes flickered to your collarbone where a mark upon your skin was growing discolored; bite marks and bruising where his mouth had been. A strange mixture of remorse and longing, affection and need, all rolled into one.

“You ready, Buck?”

He nodded quickly, snapping himself from his gaze with a pressed smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he tried. He met you at the edge of the room, trailing a few steps behind you, and you turned around to find him staring back into the cell, like he was trying to preserve a memory of some kind.

You realized as you watched Bucky clear his throat awkwardly, turning back to you with a gentle blush of pink in his cheeks, that there was no pretending you hadn’t crossed a line together. There was no going back.

---

part 2

[shijas]

:)

[cassieb1617]

Always dragons💌

Pairing: Charlie Weasley xfem!healer!reader

Fluff/angst

Summary: Charlie introduced his girlfriend to his family and they don’t seem to like her very much.

Warnings: swear words; mentions of age gap and injuries; let me know if there is more

A/N: Requested by: anonymous. As always feedback is welcomed! <3 I hope you like it and I’m sorry again that it took me so long to write this.

Charlie loved his family. He really did. His brothers, sister and parents but he knew that they are a bit much sometimes. When he announced he wanted to work with dragons they went feral, having been told that working in romania with a bunch of dragons isn’t a right job and how dangerous it’a gonna be. Alas Charlie went anyway and he had never made such a good decision.

When he started working and taking care of the dragons Charlie often got injured and sent to see a healer, though it seems that he always went to you. Maybe it was because Charlie thinks you’re just too pretty not to go to. You didn’t mind of coure, frankly how could you? He was tall, handsome, muscular and not to mention good at talking. So it wasn’t really a surprise from anyone at the reserve when you both announced you were dating and you got support from everyone, even the dragons, mind you.

Since you started knowing each other, Charlie’s letters to Bill always contained at least a sentence about you and Bill’s letters always said something like ‘Charlie you are smitten’. When Charlie was asked by his mother to come home for christmas he saw this as the perfect opportunity to take you with him and meet the Weasley clan. So he wrote back to his mother, saying he will bring someone with him and Molly was overjoyed that Charlie has finally got himself a girlfriend.

When you first arrived at the burrow you were welcomed with the smell of fresh cooked food. The house was tall and seemed to be only stabled with magic - which it probably was. Molly took you in her arms and the twins, as crazy as it sounds - poked you at first. When you regarded them with an questioning glance they just answered with an ‘we thought you’ ‘were a dragon’. You just let it go. Arthur was nice, though a little muggle obsessed but it suits him. Percy wasn’t there and you knew Bill already from school. You helped him out sometimes. Ron was kind but closed off with his friends. He was cute, he always stuttered when you talked to him the same shy way Charlie did at first. It was sweet really. Harry Potter, Ron’s best friend, was really kind to you and blushed a lot, maybe it was because they were so young?

Ginny was probably the person who distrusted and disliked you the most. She said awful things about you with Hermione and even though Mrs. Weasley defended you, you could see the way she wasn’t overly fond of you either. You didn’t know what you did wrong, you were kind to them and thanked them for the hospitality.

Maybe it was the age gap between you and Charlie. It wasn’t big really but you were still five years older than him. It was unnatural for women to be older than men in relationships. But it was great for you and Charlie and worked out pretty well.

The final pull was when you heard them talking about you with Molly. Fleur got there the day before and you got along really well. So when you both were talking and heard them calling you a cougar and saying you were in search for a child it was enough for you. It wasn’t okay of them to call you such things. Charlie was, one, not the richest person that exists and two, he was definitely to old to be a child. Although you could think sometimes he didn’t grow with his brain in the way he talks to his dragons but that’s beside the point.

Fleur told you that they said similar things to her when they met her because she was a Veela and frensh and god knows what but it still annoyed you. Oh boy, and Charlie noticed that you were annoyed, you were acting the sameas before but he couldn’t help but notice the way your smile vanished as soon as it came or how tight lipped you were sitting there. So when you got back to romania he confronted you.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked as soon as your shoes were seated on the floor. “Nothing.” It was short and definitely not convincing but you didn’t care. “Tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been acting like that for a while.” He practically insisted an answer.

“I think we should break up.” You finally said, no, shouted. He faltered, his face fell and you wished you hadn’t said anything at all. The sight before yoh broke you, he looked like a puppy that just got kicked. “What? No! Why would you say that?” His voice was hard.

“I’m not right for you. You should be spending your life with someone your family likes. Someone who wasn’t already finished with her healer exams when you were startung your OWLs. Someone better.” Your answer softened him. “Why would you say that? You’re right for me, who would take care of me if you weren’t there? And my family can be a bit much but they will learn how to adore you. And even if they wouldn’t, I won’t care what they have to say to me. And our age difference doesn’t matter to me, I thought you knew that.” He spoke so fast you thought a lightning stroke him. “And there’s no better one for me.” It was his final answer and then he took you in his arms. Swaying you from left to right and back, he took your hand in his and danced with you. Maybe it seemed wrong or confused to others as to why you would dance now but that always calmed you. And when you put your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, you knew everything is going to be alright.

“And anyway, my real family is here in romania. And they do adore you, the dragons.” Typical Charlie Weasley. Always dragons.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

Hey bestie can u make a eren x reader one shot where eren just won’t let the reader move on🙃

thank u anon for this lovely idea

scumbag!eren x crybaby!fem!reader

WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon, past toxic relationship, slut-shaming, possessive behavior, yandere tendencies,

WC: 1.8k

He pins your wrists against the dingy bathroom tiles with an unrelenting grip, and you swear you've never felt more claustrophobic in your life.

The dark-haired boy eyes the glitter on your cheekbones, the neon-colored eyeliner, the rogue on your lips, and the black satin of your mini dress exposing a substantial amount of plush thighs. He's never seen you like this-never allowed you like this before.

You almost feel like uncharted territory but nothing escapes his observant nature. From the tremble of your lips, and the water starting to collect in your lower lash lines, Eren knows this you. Maybe not who you were pretending to be in the strappy heels, low neckline, and the party-girl masquerade you put on in front of your shallow ditzy friends, but he knows who you really are. Vulnerable. Scared of your own shadow.

"E-eren,' You stammer, "Please let me go." You try not to think about the voice cracks, trying to sound as assertive as you could without meeting his eyes. Eren, of course, thinks you look like a baby mouse. Hopeless and trapped.

"Don’t you miss me?" He mummers into the nape of your neck. You have an explosive No prepared in the roof of your mouth, ready to sound out the single syllable, until his hand, adorned with chunky silver rings, covers your mouth, muffling your whimpers. You could taste the metal.

“It’s a rhetorical question.” He’s smirking, green eyes lit up dangerously under the too-white bright lights, “Let me talk okay? I just want you to listen.”

All you’ve ever been doing is letting him walk and talk over you. And then when you finally got the nerve to stand up for yourself-

“I haven’t seen you the past three months” his low voice interrupts your contemplation, “It’s like you’ve been ignoring me.” He finishes flatly, his thin lips stretched into a line. His multitude of ear piercings catches the light, glinting sharply.

It’s too overpowering, his close proximity after going cold turkey. His presence is like a drag of a cigarette after not smoking for months. Hurts your lungs but the remnants of what you used to feel with the sudden rush of nicotine bubbling up again. Because when all is said and done, you’re still deliriously attracted to him. And you hate yourself for it.

You try to focus on the other sensations, sensations that aren’t busy on the feel of his warm breath or his hands holding yours down. You can still hear the song playing from the club.

All my bitches feel like I dodged the county

Fucking with you feel like jail n——-

Yeah, it really did.

Changing tactics, he holds you by your neck instead, giving your aching wrists sweet relief but that relief is nothing compared to the panic of having his beefy hand on your thrumming pulse.

His grasp wasn’t tight. You could breathe, but it was the kind of tight that let you know he would go tighter if you didn’t listen properly. React properly.

“You’re fucking ignoring me again” he’s practically growling the words out, baring all teeth, “I know I’m pretty difficult to tune out, so I would like to know what the fuck you’re thinking about.”

His hand leaves your delicate throat- his knee between your thighs keeps you in place- to roam down the satin of your dress, the fabric clinging to every curve. You hate how scrutinizing his viridian eyes are, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over the previous hot-girl-summer confidence.

He hated how good you looked on the dance floor, laughing with your stupid friends like you had lost all your inhibitions. Hated that you looked so good, everyone could see it. Hated how you didn't notice his eyes boring holes into you. Do you remember the time how you used to be hyper-focused around him? Aware of every movement, aware of every tonal shift?

And now you didn't even look at him.

"Are you thinking of other guys? I saw you grinding on those men like a slut." He presses his body deeper, "Have you fucked any other guys since we broke up? You must have. I know how slutty your pussy is"

You bite down on his hand. Hard.

You're counting on his reflexes, for him to retract his hand and give you an opportunity to run to the door. But Eren has been fighting for years and predicts your maneuver. With a calculated sidestep, Eren lets go of his hand, before promptly slamming you against the bathroom wall again but this time front-first.

Clouds dance in your vision, and you're sure you would have fallen by now if not for him holding you up. Eren uses this newfound position to his advantage by groping your ass, rutting his dick against your backside.

Deciding to be petty, you let the spite-coated venom escape your pretty lips, "Yeah. I fucked so many boys, and they were so much better than y-"

Anger blinded him. Roughly, he turned you around to face him once more, forcing you to look up at the green-eyed monster. He flipped your dress up, nearly ripping it during the process, shoved your lacy panty aside, and plunged his fingers inside. He felt a visceral sense of validation course through him at finding wetness coating his slender fingers to your utter mortification.

"Liar. I know you haven't been fucking anyone else." His smile is all teeth, pearly white and sharp,

You gulp, feeling sweat beading down your neck and arousal pooling at the bottom of your stomach. Damn yourself.

"You don't know that."

He looks almost feral, green eyes in slits and hair all mussed up, falling out of his usual bun. The top few buttons of his black button-up are left unfastened giving you a gracious view of his smooth muscular chest, and the dangling silver cross-chain.

"No, I do. See a little birdie told me all you've been doing the past few months is crying yourself to sleep, and eating frozen meals. This is the first time you've been out since I broke up with you, huh?" Condescension drips with every word.

He thumbs away the tear falling down your cheek with a mocking kindness and adds, "There, there. Don't cry. Good thing I happened to be here tonight, right?"

You're full-blown crying now, too upset to care if you're smudging your make-up. This is the real you. This is how Eren remembers you.

"Awe, my precious little crybaby, don't worry. You came here tonight looking for dick? I'll give it to you. It's okay," He coos, breath tickling the shell of your sensitive ears. Well, every part of you felt sensitive right now.

You're rubbing your eyes, sniffling, "E-exactly. You b-broke up with me, so why are you here? Why can't you just let me be?"

The dark-haired boy sighs, and with an uncharacteristic softness, leans his head down to press his forehead against yours, and intertwines his hand with yours, noses almost touching.

"To be honest, it was just to teach you a lesson." A soft exhale, "I didn't think you'd actually stay broken up with me." He's crushing your fingers now, "Didn't think we'd be broken up with for real."

Your eyes flash with indignation, feeling your body surge with an emotion you couldn't qualify, "I don't care. Yeah, I was sad but god, you were a terrible boyfriend! I'm so much better off without you. All those lonely nights are still better than any night I've ever had with you!"

You're breathless by the time you're done.

"Done with your little monologue?"*

You can feel your shoulders shaking, and you almost want to laugh from the indecorousness of it all. How could he not care? Was this how little you mattered to him?

"I know you're lying because" Without any preamble, he shoves his fingers inside of you again, finding that spongy spot that made your knees weak, eliciting a soft moan from your downturned mouth, "You're wet. And you want me."

"In fact," an edge of excitement colors his voice, "I bet your insides are still molded to fit my dick."

It's hard to talk when one thumb is violently brushing over your clit, and his tongue is forced into your mouth, drowning any whines of protests. You close your eyes, focusing and unfocusing. A hand snakes up your dress to fondle your tits and tease your perky nipples.

It's just one sensation over another, and your sex-deprived body was welcoming all these feelings with open arms. Eren knows your body like it came with an instruction manual and that manual advised him to bite your earlobe, which was especially sensitive. He knew where on your collarbone you liked to be marked, how hard you wanted your nipples pinched, and how you could ride his face with complete abandon.

But right now, he didn't want to pleasure you. He's coaxed enough orgasms out of you throughout your relationship.

He unbuckles his belt and frees his long slender cock, the head a flushed angry red, dribbling with precum. He lines his full-mast cock to your entrance. Fully alert as to what was about to happen, pretty pleas of "no Eren, please don't, no" are falling out of your mouth, wide starlit eyes dotted with pearlescent tears. He kisses the top of your head like the way he always used to.

And then he thrusts himself inside. You give up so easily, he thinks. Do you even realize how you're swinging your hips on your own accord? How you're wrapping your lush legs around his waist to pull him deeper?

His pace is ruthless, making your head bob up and down. Moans and grunts drown out the music from the club. You're begging him to slow down.

"You're mine. Always mine. Always were. Can't fucking believe you really thought-" He doesn't even finish his thought because a violent shudder rips throughout his body.

Your nails are digging into his back, so sharp it could have been clawed. You could feel yourself right on the edge-

The door shakes to reveal a tall young man with slicked-back blond hair with a frat-boy laugh.

"Holy shit! Eren?!"

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkcufkcufckfuckfuckfuckfuc

Shame burns your face. You have no choice but to cover yourself behind Eren's broad frame. You're just hoping to every god he'll go away, and keep this to himself.

Your dark-haired ex-boyfriend turns around to face the blond, "A little busy here, Porco. Shut the door. I'm uh, getting reacquainted with someone."

"Goddamn. Is that ___" You don't even have to look at Porco to recognize how impressed he was.

"Get out Porco." Eren growls.

The door closes with a loud thud.

You're borderline hysterical at this point begging Eren to get out of you, but his grip on your hips is iron-tight.

Outside you hear stunned gasps, but one phrase stands out to your straining ears: "Yeah, I guess they're back together."

Eren kisses the top of your head once more, "After I fuck you, we'll go home together girlfriend."

----------

* {A/N}: This line "Done with your little monologue?" is inspired by this delicious fic by @hotwings0203.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

The Colonel’s Woman (Part 2 of 3)

A/N: Guess who’s baaaccccckkkk :D I’m sorry for the utter chaos that is the blog. I swear to god I posted part 2 but I honestly can’t find it anywhere on my blog. So here it is, part 2 to my feral Carillo story. 

*This is a work of fiction*

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + Only (language, reader is a sex worker, canon-typical violence, kidnapping, blood, loss of a finger, abuse, attempted sexual assault, torture, angst, ya’ll heed the warnings

Word Count: 2.5K

Masterlist

Part One 

Imagine a thread, a thick string of red, tied between two poles. Each pole represents something on one side; you have the Search Bloc, a group of men loyal to their commander and country, their mission to hunt down and execute the Narcos that haunt Colombia. On the other is the government they seek to uphold, filled with corruption, greed, and blood. The thread that holds them up begins to splinter and twist as the knife presses deeper and deeper, each thread fracturing till the whole thing collapses into the dust. 

And today, the thread snaps. 

“They changed the status of the search,” Trujillo whispers rapidly into the receiver of the phone, looking over his shoulder like a thief in the night, “they aren’t looking for a survivor. They are hunting for remains.” 

“Fuck,” Javier slams down his hand on the desk, Steve jolting at the sudden noise. 

“What the hell is going on?” 

“Where is the Colonel?” Javier ignores him; his worst fear replies quickly in his ear. 

“He’s gone.” 

Two months, three days, twelve hours, and eleven minutes. His hands shook around the steering wheel as he slammed on the gas through the neighborhoods. Recovery. The words still shook him to the core; they were giving up. You were nothing more than a body for them to hunt, for now, remains. But he knew the truth; Horacio Carrillo knows you’re not dead. He crashes through the fence at his home and leaves the door to the car open, going into the house, the smell not bothering him any longer. 

Dishes overflow over the counter, and just as many are smashed into thousands of pieces on the ground. He doesn’t feel them when they slice through his shoe and embed themself in his foot, the blood leaving a trail to his office. The flies circle overhead, and if anyone walked inside, they would probably begin searching for a body only to find the occupant alive despite his best efforts. 

The phone ringing is shrill, and he snaps it off the phone, his voice unrecognizable. There is no charm or professionalism in him anymore. Nothing but raw unimaginable pain and loss. 

Remains. 

The words make him wretch into the trashcan on the ground, and Javier’s alarmed tone brings him back to the present. “What the hell are you going to do? Think here; you need a plan. Don’t shut us out!” Horacio slams down the phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his desk, unscrewing the cap and taking a large gulp. He looks in the mirror on the wall, a large crack down the middle from where he shattered it with his fist three weeks ago. 

His eyes are sunken, dark-rimmed; he can’t remember the last time he slept or ate something beyond whiskey and cigarettes. He knows he stinks, the men in the office holding their breath when he passes, a living corpse. If he finds you, he’s going to be a dead one. 

The map on the table is out of focus, and he slams the bottle down onto the desk and looks at the clock on the wall. His plan was madness; no one would ever have the guts to do what he was going to do. But he was out of options. 

Remains. 

He turns toward the gun case in the corner and unlocks it, taking out several guns of various shapes and sizes, and strapping them on his person. The extra ammo tinkles like a bell in his pocket, and he reaches a hand out for the small round explosives, and smoke bombs. He leaves the door open; there is no way he can come back to this place when he’s finished; this is the first place they’ll look, probably torch the fucking place. 

He walks back through the house, only stopping in his bedroom to take the frame off the nightstand, a photo of the two of you at a carnival a few months back. He won’t ever forget, a night he could just relax and be alone with you. The frame shatters on the floor, and he crunches it under his boot, folding the picture and putting it in the pocket of his bulletproof vest, a trail of blood in his wake. 

The sirens echo off the basement wall, and he sits in the metal chair, sharpening his knife, the slow, methodical humming of metal on the whetstone is soothing. His eyes shoot up when she whimpers, blood trailing down her forehead and getting in her bloodshot eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. “W-w-why are you d-d-doing this?” she cries. 

He smiles and stands, bringing the sharpened edge of his knife and pressing it against her cheek, trailing it down. The threat of a cut is is so real she freezes, unable to breathe. “He took the love of my life; now I took his.” 

She shivers when he brings the knife up against her throat, “it would be so easy to kill you. Like breaking a toothpick, and I’d leave you naked and cut up tiny pieces in the street for him to find your remains.” He chuckles, “because that’s all she is now, remains.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispers, struggling to breathe, “Pablo doesn’t hurt women or children.” 

“LYING BITCH,” she screams when he slaps her hard across the face, a bruise already forming on her cheek. “He doesn’t hurt women or children; he fucking cut off her finger! Sent it to me in the mail!” 

“Finger…” she mumbles, her brow furrowing, “you said he cut off her finger?” 

He stalks over to the bag in the corner and returns with a bag, holding it up to her face. She struggles not to vomit at the discoloration of the human finger, a stark red polish on the nail, “this is what your precious husband does to women.” 

“I-I know where she is! Do you have a picture?” Tata looks at the feral man before her, his eyes widening as he snaps the velcro on the vest, unfolding a picture. She feels sick when she looks at the two lovers in the photo; it’s you. Your thinner now, eyes dull, going through the motions of life, but she’d know you anywhere. “That’s her; she’s a maid at my house.” 

He pulls back the photo and shoves it in his pocket, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling back her head, the gun pressed against her neck. “She’s alive? You fucking lie to me, and I pull the trigger right now!” 

“YES, YES, SHE’S ALIVE!” Tata screams and prays to God when he drops her head and lowers the gun. She’s crying harder now, her makeup smeared beyond repair, bruise purpling on her cheek. The sound of the chains holding her hands above her head rattle as he lowers them, a scowl on his face. 

He shoves the phone in her face and growls, “call him.” 

You kneel on the little girl’s room floor, brushing up the broken glass from her tea set. The front door slams open, and you hear muffled voices shouting before there is a single gunshot. You scramble to your feet and look out into the hallway; a raging Pablo Escobar comes barreling down the hall, reaching a hand out for you. You back away quickly but trip over the glass, cutting open your leg as he grabs a fistful of your hair and drags you down the hallway screaming. You ran out of tears two months ago. 

“Do you hear that?!” he screams into a phone, and you hook your hands around his beefy wrist, trying to call free. “Tell him!” he shoves the phone against your ear and holds your head up by your hair. 

You scream and thrash, trying to break away, but your body goes still, silent, when you hear the voice on the other end, a voice you’d only heard in your dreams. Your name whispered broken on the other end. “Horacio,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from screaming and disuse. 

All too soon, the phone is ripped from your ear, the hand in your hair tightening, “you hear that she’s alive! The little bitch is living under my roof, eating my scraps, and serving my family.” He releases your hair, and you scramble to get away, whimpering when he steps down hard on your back. “But she won’t be; I will slit her throat right now if you dare touch a finger on Tata’s head.” 

“Tata?” you toss your head back, and he steps firmer, your ribs protesting under the weight. 

“Shut the fuck up, whore,” he spits at you, and you turn away, listening. “When?” he barks into the phone, the front door opening and several pairs of feet charging inside. “I will agree to your little meeting, and I’ll bring the slut,” he pauses before stepping off your back and screaming into the phone, “DON’T FUCKING HURT HER!” 

You recoil at the rage in his voice and try to crawl away, but from one monster to another, you look at the boot before your eyes and slowly raise them to see Quica smiling down at you. The phone explodes when it hits the wall, and several gunshots go off; you cover your head and shake at the noise before they finally stop. “Grab her; I want her bound and gagged in the trunk of my car in ten minutes; no one follows me. I’m going to get Tata back.” 

You don’t hear any raised protests because you’re lifted off the ground and thrown like a sack of flour over Quica’s shoulder. You try to move out of his arms, screaming and kicking as he leads you to the garage. You’d been lucky that, living under Tata’s roof, none of the men raped you; it had indeed been a concern, the way they leered at you, look but do not touch. But one man never listened, constantly touching your ass or groping your breasts when no one was looking, and he was about to tie you up in the garage for ten minutes. 

A lot could happen in ten minutes. 

He tosses you to the ground, your head smacking on the cement and bouncing like an egg about to crack. He stalks over to the ropes and comes back to you, still disoriented from the sharp smack to your skull. When the rope comes around your wrists, you see your moment, headbutting him hard and almost guaranteeing yourself a concussion. He groans and steps back, but it doesn’t deter him, making him more pissed off. “You little bitch!” he struggles to bring you to the ground, sitting on top of you, and you fight, you fight hard. 

When he brings a hand down to your panties, you know you only have one choice; you take a deep breath a scream, “PABLO!” Quica curses as you keep screaming at the top of your lungs, his fingers covering your mouth,, doing little to muffle the noise. The garage is empty save for one car and two motorbikes, and your voice echoes. “PABLO, PABLO, PABLO!!” 

The door to the garage slams open, and you collapse to the ground, struggling for air around his hand, which quickly retreats. “What the fuck are you doing?!” he rounds on Quica, “you’re going to fucking rape her before I exchange her for my wife!? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?!” Quica has the good enough sense to step quickly up the stairs, and you breathe for a moment before you are grabbed by the shoulder and shoved toward the open trunk, “fucking bitch was probably begging for it.” He grabs a rag and shoves it in your mouth, tying it tight around your mouth before shoving you in the trunk and leering down at you. “I’m going to get Tata back, and then I will put a bullet in your lover’s head. I gave him a chance, leave Search Bloc, and he chose his job over you, and now you’re both going to die.” 

He slams the trunk closed, and you try your best to get out of the rope, but it’s no use. The engine roars to life, and you close your eyes. If this is the end, at least you go down together. 

Part 3 

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[simplysimpingsimp]

Lmao here I am again requesting something. I love your writing and I was wondering if I could request (another) Inosuke x Male Reader scenario where someone is hitting on the reader? Perhaps the reader doesn’t even notice the flirting? You can decide! Thank you for your writing! Continue to be awesome!

Hiiiii !! Omg thank you so much for requesting again <3 I really appreciate and love that you’ve sent in another request :D this is such a funny and yet cute scenario especially because of how Inosuke is probably a jealous type but in a wholesome way ! Please enjoy and I’m sorry if I didn’t meet your expectations T^T!!

🌲—————————————————————🌲

🌲Strike 1,2,3

Inosuke x Male!Reader

Pronouns: he/him

TW: none !

🌲—————————————————————🌲

Inosuke had been following his beloved around a local village with a grimace on his face hidden by his boar mask. While it’s not that he didn’t want to be there, he simply did NOT want to be there.

Though it made his heart flutter to see the happy expression on his face, it made him feel a certain rage when women and even men would approach Y/n with what Inosuke interpreted as wanting to steal him away.

Inosuke would huff at the sight of Y/n simply talking it off like they weren’t trying anything. From the view of his innocent smile, it was more than clear that it was going over his head.

“Thank you so much for the welcoming,” the e/c eyed young man spoke sweetly to the young woman who had approached him, “It was nice to meet you.”

The young woman practically skipped away with a glittery aura and a bright blush on her cheeks.

“Wasn’t she sweet,” he mused sweetly as he held onto Inosuke’s arm, holding him close.

Inosuke scoffed as his face warmed at the feeling of his beloved holding onto him. The giddy feeling building up in his chest at the very notion of being touched by the one he revered as some sort of love angel.

“Is something wrong?” He questioned with curious eyes as he looked at the deep blue of the boar mask’s eyes.

“N-No!” Inosuke practically yelled, earning the attention of others on the street.

He hummed, ignoring the eyesight of onlookers, “There there,” he gently patted the smooth pelt of his boar mask earning a soft satisfied sound from Inosuke.

A young woman approached the pair with a certain sway in her walk. She was dressed in a gentle blue floral kimono with her dark hair down and flowing. Her eyes held a sultry look in the direction of Y/n that Inosuke couldn’t explain effectively but it made him angry. Her lips were curved in a smirk and painted a soft pink.

She practically pushed past Inosuke, and wrapped her arm around his beloved.

That was strike 1 for Inosuke. He clenched his fists, holding in the urge to pig assault and head butt her into space.

How dare she try to touch the God of Love and have the audacity to not acknowledge the great presence of the Lord of the Mountain?!

“No one ever told me that we would be having a handsome demon slayer stopping by,” her voice was elegant and smooth like a dark wine, her fingers elegantly caressing his face.

The obliviousness that was Y/n could only smile as he took a step away, gently prying off the woman, “We’re just dropping by to make sure everything is all clear here! And to get something to eat.”

She let out a soft giggle, her eyes half lidded as she maintained a smokey stare on Y/n.

Strike 2. Inosuke’s blood was beginning to truly boil at the sight of the woman caressing his beloved. He was comparing the scene internally to the memory of how wolves would approach adorable rabbits and devour them before they even had a chance to escape.

He watched the way the woman would cling onto Y/n, her temptress ways were completely flying over his head as the young man had an innocent smile on his face.

“It must be so difficult to be on the road,” she spoke softly, “Especially with that,” her sight traveled to Inosuke.

Strike 3. That was it for the feral boar young man.

“Get off him you hag or I swear I’ll rip your breasts off!!” He yelled as he practically shoved her off of him.

Before Y/n could speak, Inosuke had thrown him over his shoulder and ran off as if Muzan was chasing behind him.

“I-I-Inosuke pu-put me do-o-own,” Y/n yelled with an embarrassed blush on his cheeks. He spoke as best he could as Inosuke’s running and grip on his body was making it difficult for him to express himself.

Inosuke ran into the nearest forest, his panting sounding feral and wild. He set him down. With full sight of him, y/n witnessed steam being ejected from the nostrils of the snout of his mask.

Inosuke removed his mask, setting his mask down on the ground. A face of anger shown by the way his eyebrows were furrowed and his beautiful large eyes narrowed. His lips in the form of a scowl as he looked at Y/n’s confused expression.

“What is the matter wi-“ before he could finish his sentence Inosuke grabbed him by his shoulders, pulled him in and smashed his lips onto his. Their teeth clanked together but Inosuke could care less. He was still learning what different modes of affection were and all he could think to do was plant his lips on his just as Y/n had explained to him that it was an action of romantic love and affection.

It caught Y/n by surprise, but he gave in anyway. His arms wrapped around his neck, as he melted into the kiss. Inosuke’s body tensed beneath his touch, a clear sign that he didn’t know what to do next.

He pulled away, a scowl-like smirk on his face, “There now that hag won’t ever put her filthy hands onto you again,” his voice was proud and mighty as his arms wrapped around his beloved’s form tightly, “No one will ever flurth with you again or I’ll fight them, I swear!”

“There there Inosu- wait did you say flurth? Do you mean flirt?”

“Yeah! Monjiro and Monitsu explained to me what flurthing was and what’s called!” He yelled as his body became warm.

Y/n stifled a laugh, “It’s flirt, my love,” he laughed, “Fl-ir-t,” he sounded out.

“It’s flurthing now! I, the great lord Inosuke, am never wrong!” He huffed.

He laughed softly, gently kissing his cheek, “I thought she was just being really weird and touchy because I thought maybe the village was the comfortable with each other. Completely went over my head,” he smiled lightly at Inosuke.

E/c pools meeting the beautiful lime like color that was his irises.

Y/n’s hand gently found its way to Inosuke’s cheek, fingers gently caressing the soft skin of his delicate features.

Inosuke placed his hand over his, “I don’t want anyone ever taking you away! You’re mine and mine alone,” he had a shy smile on his face as his fingers caressed the soft skin of Y/n’s hands.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he smiled at the feral boar man.

His e/c eyes were glimmering with happiness and love. The very sight of his gaze made Inosuke’s heart flutter and the giddy feeling he adored and wanted more of build in his chest. His own green irises were shining beautifully with love.

Y/n lightly pecked his lips, before Inosuke pulled him back into a gentler kiss. His kiss felt deep and unsure in the sense that he was still learning and continuously improving. A warm blush dominated their cheeks as they pulled away, Inosuke pulling him into a tight hug again.

His embrace was sweet and adorable as he had finally gotten the hang of how to hug better. His hands gently petting Y/n’s h/c colored hair the way he would do to him, earning a soft laugh from him.

“I love you and only you, Inosuke.”

“I love you and only you too.”

ᴇɴᴅ

🌲—————————————————————🌲

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ <3 ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ

ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀs/ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/ᴀsᴋ/ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!

sᴇᴇ ʏᴀʟʟ sᴏᴏɴ <3

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Let's make this moment worth the while

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You and JJ never liked each other. Kook vs Pogue. He annoys the shit out of you and yet you're trapped with him in the basement of the Cameron mansion.

Warnings: Smut, lowkey hate fuck

Available on: AO3

Part of: Passion lies in screams of ecstasytic dreams

This wasn’t something you had planned or expected.

Not at all.

He was standing in front of you, fuming with anger. His face had a hint of red, his jaw was locked tight and a strangled growl left his throat.

For a moment he looked almost feral there.

“Calm down, Maybank,” you said with an annoyed huffed, looking at the locked basement door above you. He acted like this was your fault when it was clearly his.

You could hear the music and voices from above.

A normal party at the Cameron mansion. Music, alcohol, drugs, Kooks and Pogues mingled together.

Just like in this small basement where Ward stored his wine. You had been here with Sarah a couple of times. You should have known she had planned something. The second you had entered the door to the mansion earlier, there had been this smug smile on her lips but she wouldn’t tell you why.

And now here you were with the boy you hated with a burning passion. You knew the Pogues and got along with them okay-ish. Pope was the best one to deal with, you knew Kiara for quite some time, John B was okay, he was Sarah’s boyfriend after all but JJ? No fucking way. He was crazy, reckless, infuriating and for some reason, really hot when he did stupid things.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled back at you after a long moment and turned around, going up the stairs to knock against the door once more.

You could swear the music just turned up just a little bit louder.

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming against the door with his fist one more time before going back downstairs.

“No reason to get so angry, Pogue. They’ll need new wine eventually.” You leaned back against an almost empty shelf with a sigh, shaking your head. This was stupid and had been planned.

‘Oh y/n, can you get some more wine? The bottle is already empty. There’s the Romanee Conti 1945 somewhere in the right corner, that would be amazing.’

You could still hear Sarah’s voice in your head, it had sounded strange earlier, way too sweet, way too nice and now you knew why.

“Why did they send you down anyway?” You tilted your head a little to the side and looked at the boy who had sat down on the steps of the stairs, glowering at you.

“Red cups but I don’t see them anywhere here,” he grumbled from where he was sitting. His comment made you laugh, which only made him glare more at you.

If he would have been here before, he would know there wouldn’t be a single red cup around. Probably John B’s idea to make up this ridiculous excuse.

You kept your words to yourself and sat down, leaning your head back against the shelf.

Silence wrapped itself around you two and you held his stare for a moment before looking to the ground.

You didn’t even know why you hated him so much or why he hated you the same way. Nothing bad had happened between you two when you met for the first time, Sarah introducing you to the Pogues. She was your best friend and wanted you to get along with her new friend group, which you did...except JJ.

His vibes just didn’t fit with yours, you guessed. Two different people from completely different lives. It should have been a normal dislike, a normal ‘We don’t get along’ but for some reason you just needed to see him and you got angry. His stupid smirk, the way his hair fell into his hair after the rain had poured down, the way his jaw clenched when someone made him angry, the way his throat bobbed briefly when someone mentioned his father.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, hating yourself for even noticing these little things about him. You didn’t even spend that much time together, barely knew anything about him and yet it felt like you already knew more than you wanted to know.

When you looked up you saw that he was still looking at you, leaning back on the stairs, his jaw still tight.

“What?” you snapped at him, not feeling comfortable with him staring at you the way he did.

“I’m just wondering,” he started and there was an edge in his voice that made you stand up the moment he did.

He walked toward you, coming to stop right in front of you, putting his hand on the shelf behind you, caging you in.

Your body tensed, you didn’t like this one bit. Men trying to get power over you was always a bad sign but you’d handle him. It was just Maybank after all.

“Wondering if this wasn’t your plan all along,” he finished his sentence, his face way too close to yours. You felt your cheeks redden a little bit, feeling the heat from his body.

You’d be a liar if you’d say he wasn’t attractive in his own, stupid way.

“Why would it be,” you hissed and put your hands on his chest, pushing him back a little, your jaw tightening when he stumbled back a little. “Do you think I enjoy being here with you in this small ass basement? Tourist girls might swoon over you and you think you’re the greatest around these parts but I’m not one of them.”

A smirk appeared on his lips and he took a step forward again, once again invading your personal space.

“At least they have a good time,” he said with a chuckle and you rolled your eyes, turning your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him.

You knew the stories about him. Picking up tourist girls, sometimes two at a time, spending the night together and then never seeing them again.

“Yeah that’s what they think because they’ve got nothing to compare,” you huffed out, arms folding over your chest. From the corner of your eye you saw his body going a little tense, knowing you’ve hit his ego with what you’ve just said.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about anyway,” he suddenly replied with a shrug. “Not like you know what’s down there.”

You couldn’t help yourself but look back at him, looking right at his stupid grin. Your look turned into a glare which only made him grin more.

“God, you’re really getting off at making me angry.” You threw your hands up in the air, wanting to go around him to slam your fist against the door yourself but he blocked your way.

“Let me through, Maybank,” you hissed in anger but he once again put his hands up on the shelf behind you, caging you with his full body.

“Maybe I do.” His voice wasn’t low and had something in it that you couldn’t quite place. “But I know you do too.”

He would not win this, not with this smug grin on his lips.

His body was pressing more against yours, his leg between yours, his face only inches away.

You couldn’t stop the heat that was starting to pool between your legs. Fuck. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but the way he stood here, so close with no one else around, his heat radiating off his body, his face so close.

“You might be right,” you suddenly blurted out without thinking and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into an aggressive kiss.

JJ gasped in surprise as if he didn’t expect to get this reaction out of you but answered to the kiss with the same aggression.

The kiss involved a lot of biting and nibbling, two people trying to dominate the other only to pull back for a breath at the same time.

His eyes had darkened, his lips were swollen but it only took him a moment to recover.

He put his hands under you, lifting you up against the shelf behind you, pressing your back into the old wood while you wrapped your legs around him.

What a fucking bastard.

Now this felt more like this was his plan after all but who were you to deny getting the sexual tension and hatred out for once.

You started to fumble between the two of you, trying to rid the both of you of your pants. His slipped down easily, just swim trunks and boxer shorts but you had at least tried to look good here.

He noticed your struggle and put you down for a moment so you could push your pants down, kicking them off. You were about to pull your knickers down too but he already hoisted you back up.

“What the fuck,” you whispered in surprise but your legs wrapped around him already.

“Might need to dress quickly if they decide to check on us. Wouldn’t want them to find us like this,” he growled against your lips and you huffed. He initiated this and now he didn’t want to be found like this? Bastard.

“Yeah, probably for the better,” you agreed and kissed him again, your lips almost hurting already from the vicious way you two attacked each other.

The blonde boy shifted a little, moved his hips while holding you tight and with a swift movement, he had moved your knickers aside and slipped inside of you.

You moaned into the kiss which he only took as an invite to push his tongue inside once again while he filled you to the brink.

The tourist gossip was no lie. He was indeed quite packing, you felt the sweet stretch, the balance between pain and pleasure. He wasn’t ripping you apart but you were also feeling quite a bit of filling.

You moved your arms up to hold up on the shelf behind you, the wood digging into your back when he started to thrust into you. It was as if he wanted you to feel how much he despised you, every push on his hips forceful and almost bruising but you didn’t mind. You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

You could feel your tits swinging quite a bit, only dressed with a bikini and a small top above while he kept up his merciless pace.

For some reason you hadn’t thought about him having that much strength to hold you up and push inside of you with that much force.

Not that you had thought about him doing this to you before. Not at all.

A groan left your throat in frustration when you realized that you were too good at lying to yourself when it came to him. Another groan followed when he hoisted you up a little bit more, almost letting you fall back on his dick, hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck, you feel better than expected,” he growled and leaned forward to kiss your neck, leaving small bites. Not biting hard enough to bruise but so that you would feel them for the time you were in here.

“You expected this?” you asked with a smug tone in your voice but your only answer was another deep, painful thrust inside of you that made your back arch forward.

He had anticipated this, thought about it like you did but he was very angry about it. Seems like you two were not so different when it came to that. Two sides of a coin, maybe.

His bruised lips kissed and nibbled across the soft skin on your neck and shoulder, his hardness tickling your insides the right way.

Your moans filled the small room, the air getting more heated and sticky but thankfully the music above was way louder than the two of you.

This would be your secret. No one needed to know this. You would go out of here later as if nothing had happened.

Your breath got short and irregular, it was feeling as if he was thrusting the air right out of your lungs with the pace he had picked. He clearly had experience doing this. You hated thinking about it.

One of your hands sneaked between the two of you, rubbing against the bundle of nerves, only driving you higher up, your mind fogging.

A growl left his throat when he noticed what you were doing and you could swear he was only forcing himself in harder, deeper and even faster. It was brutal and you were sure he would leave bruises over your body.

The way his hand gripped your hips hurt, the shelf pressing into you, his hips snapping against yours.

Your body started to twitch when you came closer and you were almost falling when you heard his voice. “Don’t you dare to finish before me.” It was almost a feral growl that spoke, not really sounding him like. He was out of breath, sweaty and almost desperate to spill his seed inside of you.

Normally you would have done it anyway, who was he to tell you what you had to do? But this time, you stopped listening to him. Something about his attitude towards you in this moment made you listen to him.

You hated it.

Then you moved your hand up to his face, the two fingers you had used to rub yourself running along his cheek before tapping it against his lips.

He glowered at you before opening his mouth, taking your fingers inside and swirling his tongue around them, licking your wetness off them without stopping to look at you.

You moaned at the obscenery in front of you and a low moan left your mouth. His body was twitching around you and you could start to feel yourself apart.

“Now come,” he whispered around your fingers, still licking them more tenderly than expected.

He pulled almost out completely, leaving you empty and whimpering for a moment before pushing back inside of you in one long, brutal movement, making you see stars as you fell apart around him.

You didn’t hear how a few bottles fell from the shelf, shatting beside you, all you could hear was a loud moan filling the room and you could feel yourself blushing when you realized it was yours.

He gasped and growled when he felt how your walls were clenching around him and soon enough you felt the hot cum spilling inside of you. It was warm and comfortable and you hated that you felt this way.

JJ leaned forward briefly, putting his forehead against yours before letting you back to the ground.

You almost fell forward, not able to stand, your legs shaking from the brutal abuse your body just had to deal with.

You’d be a liar if you didn’t say you loved every second of it.

“We made a mess,” you mumbled when you finally saw the broken bottles on the ground. Ward had stored so much expensive wine here, this would at least be 500 bucks or above. Not that you cared, you didn’t like this man. “We did, especially you,” he chuckled and you turned your head to glare at him but he was just pointing at his dick that was dripping with your wetness, following the drops of cum, sweat and your own juice down to the ground where you could also see a wet spot.

Your face turned crimson red from embarrassment and you looked away, trying to straighten your knickers only to realize that his cum would drip right into them when you kept them on now.

You shot him a glare and he seemed to know exactly what you meant because that smug grin was back on his lips, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I fucking hate you,” you groaned and picked up your pants, already feeling how his seed was dripping out of you and into the fabric of your panties.

“I know you do. Felt good though but then again, it never happened, right?” he asked with a shrug before putting his pants back on too.

Right when you two were dressed again and you were about to reply to him, the door opened and you saw Sarah and John B standing there.

“Oh there you are! I was looking for you!” Sarah said and walked down to you, wrapping you into a hug only to pull back and look at you with a knowing grin.

It was hard not to know. The small room smelled of sex, sweat and wine, your hair was a mess, your lips bruised. It took one look of someone with three brain cells to know what had happened here.

You glared at her. “I didn’t find the wine,” you said and she laughed, walking up the stairs with you.

“That’s fine, it seems like you’ve found something else,” your friend replied with a snicker and you groaned at her, shaking your head but couldn’t help but laugh.

[lostcybertronian]

Hunting the Boogeyman

Protective!Michael goes feral courtesy of @blackswanx7

Also tagging @takethepainawaybae

Trigger warnings for blood, gore, explicit violence, death

---

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” 

    “Don’t be a baby.” Heather casts a playful glance at you. “It’s not like we’ll actually find him.”

“Unless you believe Laurie Strode,” remarks Tommy, mumbling around a mouthful of chocolate. 

    “She’s nuts.” Heather brushes him off with a wave of her hand and a toss of her springy, black hair. “The Boogeyman isn’t real.”

    Is she trying to reassure you? You can’t say for sure. “If he’s not real, then why are we looking for him? We should go back to the party. Or go home.”

    “No way!” Heather’s eyes flash. “For one, we are not going back to that lame-ass party. Two, my kids are with the sitter tonight. I’m not going home unless there’s an emergency.”

    Tommy nods his approval and pulls a fun-sized packet of M&Ms from the pocket of his black-and-white striped prisoner costume. “Guess we’re going Boogeyman hunting.”

    “There was a guy, though. He inspired the Boogeyman myth. M-something. Michael? Michael something.”

“Michael Myers,” you say absently.

“Yeah,” says Tommy, “Michael Myers, the rando crazy guy. I heard he killed, like, five people. Scary for sure, but not supernatural or anything like that. That’d be crazy.”

“Definitely,” Heather agrees.

The three of you continue to walk, fallen leaves crunching beneath your feet. No more trick or treaters run wild through the streets, filling the crisp Halloween air with excited shouts and screams. Above you, a new moon graces the sky with its absence. The streets are lit only by the occasional street lamp. 

No sign of the Boogeyman anywhere; no sign of his Boogey-ish activities, either. Your phone claims it's well past midnight, and you’re starting to shiver beneath the flimsy material of your cowboy costume.

“The park?” Heather suggests, after a half an hour or so of wandering the near-empty streets without so much as a glimpse of Michael’s pale mask. You wonder where he is, but you don’t worry; Michael is more than capable of taking care of himself.

You shrug, but nonetheless go along with them when they turn down Third street, heading toward the park. The chain link fence shines under the yellow glow cast by the street lamps and your breath fogs the air in front of you.

It’s not long before you find the body.

“What the fuck-” Heather stops dead in her tracks. Tommy all but collides with her, swearing. “What the fuck, Hea-”

He notices it too, his jaw falling open and his eyes widening.

The corpse’s head is impaled, the blunt, silver pole emerging into its mouth and distorting its expression into a horrific grimace. The rest of its body dangles behind the fence, the bright colors of its devil’s outfit stark and soaked through with blood. 

“Oh my god.” Heather jerks back, her mouth a wide “O” of surprise. “Oh my- oh my god.”

Tommy whips out his phone. “We need to call the police.” He taps the screen. It doesn’t light up. He taps it again. Nothing. “It’s dead. Heather?”

“I left mine at home.” She hugs herself, arms wrapping tight around her leopard-printed leotard. “No pockets.”

They both look to you; twin pairs of eyes, pupils small, too much white. Eerie. 

You hold your phone up. “Dead.” A lie.

“Well, what should we do?” Heather looks anywhere but the body. Looks at Tommy. Looks at you as you study the ground and the trail of blood leading toward the park. Trees loom in the near-distance. You think you hear noises.

You open your mouth to speak when a scream rips open the night, shrill. It cuts off suddenly, but its echo remains. Following it are more shouts. Gunshots.

You run.

    Heather and Tommy call your name. Are they running after you? There’s no time to tell. No time to think; your breath comes hard and your heart pounds in your ears in time with your pounding feet. Concrete turns to dying grass and pine needles. The shouts grow louder; deep voices. Men’s voices. They swear and jeer.

    Your blood runs cold when you see him. Michael, surrounded by people, silhouetted by the bright bounce of half a dozen flashlights. He lashes out as they circle. As they gesture with bats and crowbars and guns. His blade catches one of them in the arm, and the man’s scream almost drowns out the chanting of the others’. 

    Bam! A shot. Michael jerks back as blood spurts from his right shoulder. The knife goes flying. 

    Crack! Someone steps forward, swinging a baseball bat in a high arc that strikes him in the back of his head. Michael goes down to one knee. Collapses completely as he’s struck again.

    Before you know what you’re doing you're lurching into a run. Into a sprint. Slip and almost trip on loose pine needles and leaves damp from the last rainfall. You barge through the crowd of people. Plant yourself between them and him. Your chest heaves; fear makes your breath come in stuttered gasps.

    What are you doing?

    Behind you, Michael doesn’t move. Looking at him now, you can see the blood soaking through his blue jumpsuit, oozing from holes in the fabric. It makes your chest constrict and your eyes water.

    “Hasn’t he had enough? He’s defenseless-” The words are hardly out of your mouth when something punches through your left shoulder. You don’t feel the pain at first; the blood spraying from the wound is the only thing telling you there’s a wound at all. The force of the impact shoves you forward; you fall. Hands and knees, elbows locked. Something cracks in your left wrist.

    Now comes the pain. Searing through your shoulder. Overwhelming. Black crawls at the edges of your vision, then overtakes it completely. You collapse to the blood-soaked ground, cheek pressed to the grass. You think you feel Michael stir beside you. Think you hear gunshots and shouts. But you’re not sure. Unconsciousness sucks you under.

Michael

    stirs.

    His fingers brush something soft. Something fabric that is not grass or leaves or blood. He lifts his head to see you sprawled, unconscious and bleeding.

    The panicked murmurs of the crowd do not register. Nor does his heavy, labored breathing. All sound cuts out of his world.

Michael

    rises. 

    Snatches the bat that comes arcing toward him. Wrenches it from the hands of the short, heavyset man holding it. One swing shatters his skull. He goes down. Another swing and the man next to him collapses, dropping his revolver to the ground without firing a shot. Blood and brain matter and bits of bone smear the grass. Smears his jumpsuit. Smears the mask.

Michael

    slaughters.

    He doesn’t have a knife but that doesn’t mean he isn’t deadly; he’s done far more with less than a simple, wooden bat. Maybe a minute passes before there’s no one left standing. No one left alive. Only then does he let the bat clunk to the gore-soaked grass. Only then does he hear his own breathing, loud in his ears.

    Only then does he look at you and find that you are awake and that you are staring at him with wide, glazed eyes, breaths coming in shallow pants. Your pale face is splattered with blood and viscera that gleams wetly under the focused beam of a fallen flashlight.

    Rustling. To his left. He steps, putting himself between it and you-

    “Please!” A woman dressed in a leopard-printed leotard and fake cat ears stumbles from behind a bush, struggling against the prison inmate clutching at her arm. “Don’t kill them!” 

    Kill them? He tilts his head. Starts toward them, but pauses when a hand brushes his ankle. Weak fingers snag at the hem of his jumpsuit.

    “Michael.” Your voice is small. Breathy, like you’re struggling to get air in and out of you. “They’re my friends,” you whisper. “Please leave them alone.”

    Your friends? Michael’s attention shifts back to them; both have frozen, like deer in headlights. They’re your friends; it explains why they placed themselves in his path to try and save your life. 

    He itches to kill them. It would be so simple; a mere three paces and the satisfying snap of the neck. You belong to him, after all. And no one else.

    But your grip on his pant leg tightens, and even he can’t fix bullet wounds. So he steps aside to allow them unobstructed passage to you, choosing to hover close enough to intimidate. 

    “Oh my god, Tom, they’ve been shot!” Heather drops to her knees beside you, helping you roll onto your back so she can press a hand to the oozing wound on your shoulder. “We need to get you to a hospital. We need to-” she glances around, paling as she seems to take into account the surrounding carnage, then lowering her voice to a whisper- “we need to call the police.”

    “My phone.” With a hiss of pain, you manage to move your uninjured arm, slowly pulling your phone from your costume pocket. 

    “It’s not dead,” Tommy mutters, but Heather elbows him and shoves it into his hands. “Call 911.”

    She looks up at Michael, who continues to track your every movement. “The police are coming,” she tells him, her voice quivering. “Whether you like it or not. They’re going to track you down.”

    His fists clench at his sides. He takes a step forward, towering over her. Heather’s mouth opens and closes, and Tommy retreats, casting furtive glances at them as he murmurs quietly and quickly into the receiver. 

    “Go, Michael.” It’s your voice that stops him from twisting Heather’s head around. His mask tilts toward you, and you manage a weak smile, chest shuddering. “I’ll be fine.”

    He stares at you, ignoring the frantic, confused exclamations of your friend and the sirens approaching in the distance. He stares at you and breathes, now feeling the sting of bullets and a mute throbbing at the base of his skull. 

    He stares at you for a moment longer, then turns and walks deeper into the park, disappearing into the cold Halloween night.