#god it's making me want to rope even more than usual

[anaalnathrakhs]

people won't fucking FORGET me i can't handle this anymore there's always a friend who wants to go someplace a friend who needs someone to go to the store with a friend who hasn't seen me in a while who wants to hangout, and i can't let those friendships decay i just can't i can't be this kind of asshole again, but it feels so shit it feels like i can't fucking relax cuz there's always something tomorrow something next week and something to do at school between classes and holy SHIT leave me ALONE please fucking stop talking to me i just want to relax and do things i enjoy.

[visionsofmagic]

◜ mk1 men breaking the bed/headboard while fucking you ◞

▸ characters: bi-han, syzoth, liu kang, raiden, kuai liang, johnny cage, tomas◂ ▸wc: 4k+ [wow]

▸ tags¬es: REQUESTED by @luvv4lurd. drabble but long (like very long), fluff, nsfw, breaking, licking, ropes, inappropriate usage of power/abilities, humiliation, rudeness, rough, biting, power, begging, fingering, swearing, monster fucking (kind of), power play, pet names, calling god/goddess, possessiveness, protectiveness & more in the work, enjoy! [didn’t want to write this long & I am not sure whether @luvv4lurd wanted it to be this long but couldn’t hold myself, they’re so cute! hope all of you like it, have fun!]◂ ▸ m.

BI-HAN doesn’t care about hurting you that much, yet, he gives you a safe word to make him stop when it is needed. clearly, he wants to fuck you well enough so that he can show you only he can fuck you like this. this goal of his brings him to an edge that he put your body down on the bed, ass up, cock thrusting deep inside your walls as your body jolts forward and backward in sync with his cock’s rhythm going in and out of your pussy full of cum - since you have cum like two times already.

he’s a bit rougher than he is usually because he heard a few other lin kuei’s members talking about you - how they are mesmerized by your presence whenever you come into view, however, they complained about how they can’t talk to you because you’re always with the grandmaster, sub-zero.

that moment, he decided to fuck you hard enough to make you have difficulties with walking, making everyone realize who fucked you - their grandmaster - they will know who you belong to and that was why he is rough right now.

you don’t complain though, well, until he makes you scream his title - “my - ohh - my grandmaster!” he loses his mind, releasing his power; hands get colder as ice appears on them from fingertips to the arm, and since his hands on the headboard, to hold it tight and fucking you with a great strength, it covers with ice, making the surface so easy to break into pieces and this is exactly what happens.

the headboard breaks into countless pieces, the room’s temperature going down in an instant, your eyes widen but bi han gains his mind’s control, hands turning to normal as they touch your waist, sending a chill down your spine with their coldness - bi han begins to fuck you harder as if it’s even possible, blaming you.

“see what you made me do whore? it’s only because of you! have to get a new one now, but you should pay for what you have caused pretty slut and you will pay by giving this beautiful wet pussy to me - to the rightful owner of it. will fuck you until you can’t walk for the next week, my dumb whore.” 

SYZOTH tries his best not to use any of his strengths during the make-up sessions you share - getting intimate yet shy while doing it. he wants you to stay healthy even after the sex, only maybe some of the marks on your body that he likes to leave. however, sometimes you become a brat, acting naughty, trying to play with his nerves of pleasure and instincts enough to make him go rougher, and since he doesn’t want to hurt you, his hands find the sides of the bed while he’s fucking you with the position of missionary, green innocent eyes focusing on your face that full of cries, parted lips, half-closed eyes watching him with such delight he wants to prove himself further – wants to fuck you so good that your body cannot forget about it in the following days until the day he fucks you again.

and he loses himself when a hand grips him by the hair, pulling his face down at your level, ear to ear, you say in a whisper which is followed by a little moan afterward, “cmon pretty boy, I know you can do better than – ohhh – this!”

who is to decline your offer? who he is to hold himself still instead of fucking you harder – better?

syzoth whimpers at your words, he lets your legs hug his bare back, hands wrapping his neck as his hands begin to hold the surface of the bedsides tighter to find a balance after shoving his dick into your wider pussy rapidly than before, roughness and lust dripping from heart to body within actions.

“oohhh –“ he moans in sync with you, “tell me how good it is my love, please, please –“ he stops himself from crying by biting down your shoulder a few times, listening to your cries mixed with both pain and pleasure with full attention, and when you praise him, his edge comes, making him lose himself, and letting his nature form in some parts of his body; a tail appears on his back, it wags on its own – eyes turn darker green – and hands are covered with the skin of his true form, all green until it reaches to the arms.

all feelings double when his strength rises, weight becomes hard to endure, dick bigger – definitely rougher, going in and out of your aching yet wet pussy, and you reach climax at the same time – the exact time when a few crack sounds are heard, causing you to look into each other’s face – looking both excited and peaceful because of reaching the climax and shocked when the bed break into two, its middle swallows your bodies as syzoth hold you from the back from an instant, turn you around so that his back meets with the rigid surface of the floor under the bed.

hands on your back, hugging, turning into human form, and tail disappears as he looks at you with innocent and shy eyes as if you’re not lying down on the ground, inside a broken bed, cums still dripping.

“I’m so sorry y/n – but it – it was too much for me to handle. my love, how can I make you forgive me? I will do anything for you – just say it and I will show how sorry I am but please don’t judge me. I can’t hold my thoughts together when I have your pretty pussy.”

LIU KANG can be the steadiest person – or a god but you don’t know any other god aside from him, but not in bed, no, never. he is that steady, straightforward, gentle, cute, and all these kinds of things under the lights of daylight, however, when it turns into a dark sky when you visit him in his room – or you in yours, exchanging a few words, questions only to begin to fuck after the formality.

it’s not that he uses you as his fucktoy – yes, it feels like it because it turns you on, but no, he’s in love with you – so deeply that he loses his mind whenever he sees you, and when it comes to getting intimate, oh, he forgets about the timeline he has created entirely, focusing on you – your pretty face he likes to watch, your magnificent body he finds as the most beautiful thing on all realms, your voice that comes into his ears as prays while you moan his name and even his title whenever you feel like it, and oh, your delicious pussy that neither his fingers, his tongue nor his dick will ever get bored of – it will be such disrespectful thing to be bored when you open your legs wider to him, showing your pink pussy that begs for his caring and affection – that he gives you what you want right away.

he’s a god, yes, but he can kneel in front of you if it is needed – to eat you out, or even to beg you.

on a night, when he lets you do whatever you wanna do with him, you chose to ride him in order to show him how you love his dick so much as he watched you from below, making you feel so powerful because of having the god of fire, liu kang, under you – moaning your name, eyes blurry, a bit of fire travels on his shoulder since he hasn’t logical side in the brain, no longer when you ride him so good – it feels as if you’re his goddess and you can’t deny that it doesn’t turn you on just by thinking about it.

smiling widely, you let yourself get the pleasure at the highest level, so, you throw your head back, and hands travel on your body from hair to shoulders, from breasts to abdomen, from there to your ass – literally exhibiting your own body to liu kang while bouncing on his lap – pussy clench around his length whenever you sit down only to rise up and repeat the action rapidly, riding him, fucking him.

and liu kang’s last logical side screams him not to hold you – because if he does it, he is sure he will break you into pieces. he doesn’t want to hurt you, especially when he witnesses the sight in front of him – breathtaking, making him lose the balance of his strength. instead of holding you, he grips the headboard behind him as he sits there, having you on his lap – watching you riding him beautifully.

then, you look down, and chuckle, “let your goddess take you to the stars, pretty boy.”

he never had this kind of situation with any other person, so, when you reflect his own words with yours – ‘let your god take you to the stars, pretty girl’ – he really sees stars, hands get tighter, and he breaks the bed with his power of strength and fire, moaning your name loudly, “aggh – y/n!” as he cums hard into your warm walls.

the moment he opens his eyes once again, he sees your smirking face first, one of your soft fingers travels on his cheek as you kneel down closer, “oh, couldn’t pretty boy resist it and cum in an instant?” you chuckle, mocking him, “where is the god of fire, huh? maybe, you should be the one who calls me goddess instead.”

he doesn’t waste a moment, holding you from the waist, he closes the gap between your bodies – nose to nose, white eyes devour yours only by looking at them intensely, and he smirks – darker than yours, radiating fire.

“darlin’, you are already my goddess but you need to learn who you belong to. don’t worry, the lesson you will have now will be enough to make you remember it to no longer forget about it. I will teach you personally while fucking you on this broken bed.”

RAIDEN is a stranger to his own power that has been given by liu kang to fight with it to protect the earthrealm, however, now it sticks with raiden every second of the day and night, and he can’t leave it even while fucking you.

he says he should get used to it in every situation. he’s shy about it while saying it but you know that there are other reasons behind the desire to bring his lightning power into the bed ‘cause, that way, he can send a tickling jolt to your body – even to your pussy, making your pleasure rise up, wanting him to continue what he’s doing.

he knows you like it too – how he can’t anyway? you love seeing his eyes turning to light blue from time to time, love to let it flow through your skin, sending chills down your spine, getting you closer to the edge.

raiden discovers your kink contains electricity accidentally, and in a weird situation when he forgets to leave his amulet bonded to his hand while getting intimate with you.

he doesn’t realize holding it even when he goes hotter as he lowers down on your body, kissing every inch of you, reaching your exposed pussy soaking wet to the ground because of his gentle, slow yet effective approaches. he’s so gentle with you that he literally begs to taste your cum in his mouth.

letting him, you lean onto the headboard, wide open legs meeting with his soft-looking eyes, making him whimper at the sight.

you look so pretty that even after having your cum in his mouth, he can’t stop - he says he wants to thank you for letting him eat you out passionately by hovering over you, hands find the headboard behind you as he thrusts into your wet and fleshy pussy again and again with a pace driving you mad.

you scream how good he’s making you - to make it double, he uses some electricity that flows through your body without even noticing it, and the sudden sensation makes you clench around his length, swallowing it entirely, giving raiden a heart attack because of the pleasure he has never felt before, and it ends up with him using his strong muscles to hold himself in balance by gripping the headboard harder, making it crumble and break into pieces in a second.

to protect you from the falling pieces of it, he lowers down, covering your body within his but it makes all things go worse – or better as you say afterward; his cock reaches the end of your pussy, and it even becomes visible on your abdomen – and the scream, moans you made causing raiden to lose his mind – he begins to thrust into you, balls hitting your ass, forehead touches yours, eyes turn into light blue when you look at them.

“you have no idea how beautiful you look right now, my love. so – so beautiful. I am so sorry to break the bed but I can’t stop now. how can I? your pussy begs for me to continue fucking you. ohhh – it feels so good. I am offering myself to you as a forgiveness gift.”

KUAI LIANG is a man who lives to give you, his beloved lover, what you deserve – the whole world, as he believes. loving doing the things you want, he’s no longer a gentleman in bed as the bond you share grows more powerful as well as the intimate sessions you have an increase in passion and trust.

he becomes rougher when you need him to be. being such a needy lover for him, you choose to trust him enough to let him have you in ways you can never imagine on your own because he looks fragile from the outside – he still is but not when you get into the bed after a long and exhausted day, ready to find your peaceful hours, inside each other’s arms which turns into a hot moment since you can never resist the urge of getting closer – he turns into a beast, you can see the sparkes he has inside his eyes – reflection of the fire he has within his soul and body.

on one of the nights you become lustful for each other, kuai has you on your knees, ass up in the air, and your second cum’s juice flows through his thick warm cock onto your inner thighs and ass, however, he can’t focus on the mess you’re making because all his attention is on your wrists which are roped with his kusarigama – it has no kama yet the coldness of metal chains around your wrists are enough to send you chills since kuai’s entire body radiates warmness.

holding your wrist, he increases the pleasure you are getting from the way he fucks you into the mattress, moans coming from you mixing with the swears and praises he says between his rapid breaths, dripping sweats and moans – only you can make him so weak, so fragile yet powerful at the same time – it causes him to try to prove himself to you in a greater way that you can never forget about it, that your body screams his markings.

the sound that is created by the lewd sounds of his thrusts hitting your soaked clit build twist feelings inside your stomach that is pushed down onto the bed as his left hand holds the wrists that have chained while the free one is put on the headboard’s edge, holding it tightly because he needs to find a source of stability to stay still but it doesn’t work – not when he finds this new angle amusing, begins to shove his dick into your warm walls faster, then, when his climax hit, the solid tool cracks – collapsing.

when he comes to his senses, getting off his high, he realizes what he has made.

he looks a bit guilty, eyes finding yours, his face has an expression of a man who seeks forgiveness yet he seems to enjoy it, and he smiles when you chuckle, joking about how he can easily turn into a madman only because of having you like this.

as he agrees, he caresses your hair, hands playing with the chain to open it. he turns your body over, hugging you from the shoulder, he still doesn’t take his dick off of you.

“’m so sorry honey, didn’t mean to break the bed but weren’t it the head of the bed, I would break you – was so good – you feel so good. fixing it will be the first duty for me after I get more of you – can I? please say that I can because I need you – one more baby, please, give me one more. promise I will be more cautious with our surroundings. don’t want to get you hurt. you will only get pleasure until we’re done, my love.”

JOHNNY CAGE can be the most reckless fucker in the whole timeline. interested in you only, he loses the last logical side of his brain – if he has any when he has you in different situations yet each one of them is as effective as the others.

being energetic, having almost superhuman strength, and going wild in sex, he is sure unreliable while fucking. creating a sense of fear with excitement in your abdomen, ideas rush into your mind as you think about what he will do differently this time in every intimate moment. his uniqueness can be pointed out even while fucking you or letting you fuck him.

he’s also loud, talkative, preferring to let you know that you feel wonderful, perfectly taking his dick – or him, entirely, destroying his mind because of the beauty you have as lust cages him like a chain.

he seems like a madman too with his mind full of thoughts about how he can turn the sex you have into something more bustling, catchy, and entertaining for the two of you, maybe a little more for you ‘cause he prefers to be an unforgettable lover. he addresses you as his queen, and he is determined to prove himself right by treating you as one.

to do this, he tries to get his ideas turn into realities while fucking you.

not caring about your surroundings, not thinking consequences of being unconcerned, not realizing what he has done until his highness’ effects of being pussy drunk decrease. the reality hit his face when he saw the world around him, you still under him, mind dizzy, mouth dry because of moaning non-stop, eyes half-closed as you looked up at his face, cries cleaning your heated face.

the bed, worth a million dollars he chose to fuck you onto, now has a broken headboard – the pieces falling onto the floor and the bed’s soft white fabric. the memories of the moment before rushes into his mind as he looks at the broken material inside his fisted hands; he understands that he is the one that caused this. he fucked your wide-open pussy so mindlessly that when he gripped the head to find something to hold on to, he broke it without realizing it. 

as you still soak wet with your cum, and his own getting out of you, he jokes about the situation; chuckling while pointing out the power he has enough to break the bed’s head in one movement, showing it to you with such proudness you roll your eyes – this time not because of his dick, but because of his silliness.

he puts his hands on your sides, smirking down at you, winking, and having no shyness about breaking the bed.

“oh princess, it was worth a million dollars but doesn’t matter. you are worth more than anything in entire timelines. to have your pussy, I can break all of ‘em pretty. but can we appreciate how strong I am? ‘is all because of how good you’re makin’ me feel – ohh, pretty lady, making my mind go crazy like that – ‘is because of you that I broke it, but, what about we break the couch too? wanna do it – wanna break it too while eating you out. c'mon princess, gotta fuck you in every piece of furniture in this house.”

TOMAS is not like his brothers – he is not like the rest of the men at all. he’s a lover who puts your well-being before anyone else, including his desires, and passionate when it comes to that decision in times he has you inside his arms, standing naked from head to toe, giving yourself completely to the man you trust the most, you love the most.

his fragile manner doesn’t let him go hard on you even if you want him to do so. afraid of hurting you even a little bit prevents him from becoming rougher and harsh to you. he listens to all your pleases, begging him to fuck you harder, wanting him to believe he can never harm you, yet, he chooses to stay still even when you act so bratty, trying to get into his nerves, making him let it go.

tomas, being a cute shy boyfriend, delicate when the matter is you, stays determined for a long time ‘'til the day you plan everything out and make him lose his gentle manner, causing the loss’s emptiness to be completed with the new one – greed.

the greed he has for you builds up from his deep soul to show itself through his actions after he sees you sitting on the bed, on your knees, the dress you wear is thin and represents the color of tomas’ armor, the delightful body underneath it is visible to his widened eyes, looking innocently yet devilishly to his eyes, smiling widely as you rise your hand for him to hold and get into the bed with you.

who he is to resist? his determination is not that great – and both of you realize it when tomas gets into the bed, a moment later, when his cock meets with your already soaked and prepared pussy after he fingers you, he feels warmness, fire building within his body, making him want to devour you, unlike the times you had before, he’s a bit dizzy now.

he moans your name over and over again, lips curl only to moan, whimper, and beg for more. you let him though, saying he can get what he needs – you say he can use your body for his pleasure, and when he finally admits it feels euphoric to go rough on you, moans coming out of your pretty pink lips like a melody to his ears, encouraging him further.

he grips you from the waist while fucking you; he uses your body as he pleases, moving your body front to back, his thrusts meet with your walls in mid-air, earning rhythmic moans from both of you.

throwing his head back, he decides to hold the bed under your body because he realizes the red marks on your waist due to the grip he has on there. when his hands reach for the mattress, he grips the white covers strongly, hands turn into fists, and those fists hit the bed’s rigid surface – the bed breaks into two the moment he cum carelessly into you after you praise him, call him your good boy.

he swears for the first time, eyes closed shut, his cum meets with yours, forehead connects with your chest as you hug him from the shoulders.

breathing deeply into your breasts, warmness flows from his breaths to your exposed skin, smoke appearing on the curves of his body slowly, and you feel his tears because of both pleasure he has felt and quilt coming from breaking the bed, making your bodies go lower a little bit.

“oh, I’m so sorry, so so sorry, didn’t mean to – I – I just want to prove myself and get lost when you moan my name like that, calling me your good – ohh – boy. ‘m so sorry my goddess, please, forgive me. wanna say it will not repeated but I can’t – it felt so good that I wanna do it again – right now. my love, would you let me do it again? say yes, and I will be a very very good boy for you – only for my goddess.”

what a journey of rut! here's a cake for you because you deserve it after reading this, bearing it with me! 🍰

❤��� tagging: @lookingforgoodthings , @snowprincesa1 [taglist]

[dadsbongos]

then, and again, and once more

6.9k words

Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.

Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up

sukuna-centric part 2

There it is again.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.

Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.

And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.

He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”

That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”

“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”

Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”

“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”

“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”

Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”

“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”

Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.

Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?

“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.

But in a lot more ways -

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.

“You like that one, right? I can help.”

You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.

It isn’t even affection. It’s just…

“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”

Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.

With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”

Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”

Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”

Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”

And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”

Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?

“Do you want my help or not, worm?”

Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.

“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.

Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.

The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.

And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.

“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “

“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”

Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”

He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”

“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”

Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”

You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”

Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”

“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”

Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”

“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”

Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.

Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.

Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.

And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.

Oh well.

It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.

His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”

Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”

“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”

“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.

Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.

But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”

“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”

“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”

A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.

We used to be more.

You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.

Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.

Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.

Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.

“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.

Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.

Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.

And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”

“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”

You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”

He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”

Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”

“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”

“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.

Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.

You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.

Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.

Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.

People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.

As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.

He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”

Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.

That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.

That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.

Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.

And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”

It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.

But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”

But he’d never lie, you know that.

So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”

It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.

Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”

Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”

“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”

“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”

“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”

He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.

He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.

That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.

Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.

You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.

Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.

And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.

Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.

But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.

It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.

In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.

Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.

And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.

But it was time now.

With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.

It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.

Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.

And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.

“Itadori, right?”

Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.

On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.

Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.

But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”

Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?

You wouldn’t remember any of it.

Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.

He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”

That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.

“She’s still awake.”

Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”

Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”

“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.

The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.

Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.

Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.

“Itadori?”

Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?

But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.

With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.

The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”

Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.

“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”

Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”

But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”

His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.

That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.

Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.

Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.

Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.

Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”

Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”

Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.

His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.

Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”

You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.

Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”

But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.

On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.

Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.

“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”

Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.

Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.

He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.

And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-

“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”

Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.

He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.

“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.

Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.

“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”

“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”

You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”

Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.

“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.

He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”

This wasn’t new?

Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.

His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.

Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.

Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.

Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.

You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.

“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”

Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.

Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.

“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”

“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”

And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.

It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.

You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.

Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”

And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”

And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.

“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”

“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.

And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.

“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”

The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.

When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.

“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”

Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.

Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.

[mochinomnoms]

So uhhhh...... what other kinks would octavinnle have 😗

🦩

I already went into one I think Jade would have, so I'll list three new ones for each and a brief thing as to why, though it's not their only ones I would say it's some of their top ones.

Azul

Oral fixation: Azul has a refined palate, he can note each ingredient used in dishes with just his tongue! He's learned to put that tongue to good use, so it's logical to assume that he'd like to taste you as well. And Azul does love it so. There is no treat taster than you and your cum on his tongue, and while he's not one to indulge in his meals, for you he'd make an exception. I do hope that you are willing to keep your legs open for a quite some time, after all you wouldn't want to deny him of a treat, would you?

Praise kink: Let's be real, because of his childhood, Azul thrives on recognition and praise for his hard work. When he decides to go into something, it's never half-hearted, especially regarding his love and affection to you. So, praise him! Tell him what a good job he's doing, tell him to keep hitting that spot right there, oh god, Azul, you make me feel so goood~ It makes him feel so so good knowing that only he gets to make you feel like this, that only he gets to hear your voice praising him. It gets him off, so keep doing it at all times, whisper in his ear about how smart and wonderful he is in all aspects, the sweet tone in your voice gets him hot and heavy, turning into a need to keep hearing those honeyed words and show you just how deserving he is of your praise.

Breeding: Out of the trio, he is technically the only one with a mating season (two actually). And while he can usually get over those seasons on his own, with you at his side he instinctually develops a need to breed you silly! Who knew he had such a desire to become a daddy, you'll help him won't you? As his mate? Regardless of whether or not you can actually get pregnant, when the late spring and early fall come, he needs to fill your tummy with so much cum that it hurts! You'll spend at least two months out of the year with bent over or in a mating press until you're shuddering and twitching as milky white fluids are dripping from your hole. Now now, Azul can't have that, so won't you let him fill you just one more time? (It's never just one more time.)

Jade

Shibari: Jade thinks it's fascinating how humans don't have long, winding limbs to wrap their mates and make due with soft, pretty colored ropes. It's even more fascinating seeing the fat of your skin bulge against the ropes. Your chest, thighs, hips, all straining the ropes as your hands are tied against your back, helpless to his poking and prodding. Call him sadistic, but he loves seeing you so helpless underneath him, pretty eyes begging for him to use you and make you feel good. It makes him feel a sort of way to hear you beg to free your hands so you can hold him, dig your nails into his skin as your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jade does love having you be so helpless under him, free for him to use as he sees fit.

Service kink: Jade likes taking care of things, to be depended on. After all, he's so good at being a dependable partner, so why not place all your pleasure into his very capable hands? Be warned, though, Jade can be quite sadistic, and once you place your pleasure into his hands, it belongs to him and only him. There's no need to touch yourself when he hands long, nimble fingers to use, a long furling long to sink into your heat, and attentive eyes that watch and study every single moan, twitch, and breath you take. Jade will make sure that your lust filled brain will be drawn to him, immersed with the mind-blowing rapture he provides. All to the point that you'll only be able to cum through him, whether it be his mouth, hands, or dick. It's fine, Jade does love depend on, especially if it ruins you for anyone else after him. That's if you can bring yourself to leave, after all you'll never find another quite as attentive and caring as he. Jade's made sure of that.

Roleplaying: This plays a bit into Jade's service kink, but he does love dressing you up in cute outfits and making you play a bit. Perhaps he is a butler, and you're his master, bringing yourself down to ruin by a lowly servant as he fucks you into oblivion. Perhaps he's come to collect collateral from you for a deal, and you can only offer yourself. Maybe he's a big bad sea monster, and you're a sweet little human that drifted too far off into the sea. In any case, he loves playing into any of his roles, teasing you as you start of shy like an actor with stage fright. It's wonderful when Jade finally gets to see you lose yourself into your role, all for him. Though, don't be surprised if he decides to turn the table a bit, and dresses you up in a maid costume with a leash and collar. As much as he loves playing his usual role, Jade does also love seeing you coo and tend to him (and his dick) like the pretty, sweet spouse he knows you will be. Go on love, get on your knees and make him feel good. It's your responsibility to clean up the mess of slick you've left on his dick after all.

Floyd

Overstimulation: To no one's surprise, Floyd has plenty of energy to go around once he's interested in something, and you are very interesting to him. He wants to see just how much you can take of him and what he gives you until your crying and begging him to give you a break. But unless you give him your safe word, that delicious orgasm he just gave you is blending into the next as he seeks his own euphoria. But don't think that he won't just ignore his own overstimulation, because he will. Just feels so good for both of you that it almost hurts. And yet, Floyd just can't help and keep going. That yummy high on cloud 9 is gonna keep going, even through your shrieks and cries for a break, the rhythmic slap of skin, the shuddering breaths. He just can't stop, even if he wanted to, oh please Floyd! It's too much! It feels too good-AAAAH~ He'll keep going until you both pass out from sheer sensory overload and exhaustion, his dick still in you and ready to go when you wake back up.

Dumbification: This is a bit surprising, or maybe not, but Floyd loves fucking you until you're so sex-brained that all you can think about his him and his dick. He wants you to love his cock so much that you're bending over and spreading yourself open for him with hearts in your eyes. No thoughts, head empty except for Floyd and his cum. He wants a pretty smile with your tongue lolling out. He wants you to see him taking pictures of him fucking you with your hands forming a heart. He wants you to ignore anything and everything else except for him, because you're his little dummy that can only think about him and his pretty dick that's bruising your insides and shaping you for him. And only him.

Dacryphilia: This should actually come as no surprise, but Floyd gets really horny at seeing your tears streaming down your face. But not from being upset, no, he loves the tears that come from him overstimulating you. They're just so pretty! You're so cute, and he's so big, too big for you, but you try so hard! So forgive him if he's a bit mean, a little rough, and dragging out orgasm after orgasm from you so that you're whimpering and sobbing. Such a sweet sight reserved just for him, as only he can guarantee that these tears come from feeling good and not from something more sinister. Plus, Floyd really likes how you pout at him. It's just so cute!! And he just looooves cute things.

[satoruhour]

oh my god, i dont know if you write for this specifically (feel free to disregard if you don’t), but I’ve been thinking about satosugu x reader,,, imagine kissing the both of them!! spending a nice summer day with them!! just being able to enjoy spending time with the two of them!! I dont know if its my love for both of these characters and their relationship, but i just like thinking abt that dynamic,,,

a/n: wrote this yesterday to upload today since it was a loaded day today ❤️ enjoy. hope it’s up to standard cause i havent written fluff in a long time! / 1.3k, poly!satosugu x reader

sleep-ins were popular amongst the three of you. before you, suguru had his own routine of waking up early to brew some tea for himself, to get the laundry going . .

satoru, on his own, was a light sleeper, sitting straight up at any hint of sound due to his sorcerer duties but after moving in with geto, he’s been letting the long-haired man to do all the work.

and here came you, waltzing back into their lives (and apartment) after teaching at kyoto for just a few months until you couldn’t stand gakuganji and headed right back to your alma mater.

it wasn’t difficult to maintain the dynamic the three of you had from your school days, except maybe unspoken feelings and lingering glances until the two men were gassing each other up to ask you.

you’re not even sure how you even got roped in — old feelings, a crave for the younger days, the allure of satoru, the wonder of suguru — but now you’re stick in between both of them wanting to pee so badly.

alas, your body is trapped under gojo’s protective leg and geto’s gentler wrapped arm, but you still feel your bladder about to burst, trying one last time until your body is slammed back into bed.

“hm . . what’re you doing?” is gojo’s first raspy call out to you as he curls his calf around you even more, and you sigh, turning to him to brush his fringe from his face.

“i need to pee, satoru.”

“no.” and you roll your eyes because he’s always whiny like that and you’d usually employ suguru to do your bidding but he’s fast asleep, still. this was another thing: both you and gojo have inextricably fucked with his routine because now he’s more inclined to sleep in than drink his morning tea. he realised this one day when he was doing laundry, in the afternoon.

“’toru, pleeaasee?” you pout even if he can’t see and like a good boyfriend, he senses your features pulled into a face specifically meant to make him feel bad, and cracks his eyes open.

“oh, youuuu—” gojo scrunches up his eyes and squeezes, and then steals you from geto’s arm, trapping you with tight arms wound around your middle, “stop it with the eyes!”

you giggle, using your free hands to relax the tightness in his brows, using that opportunity to forcibly open his eyes and then you hit him again — knitted eyebrows and doe eyes, and a perfect pout that has gojo grumbling under his breath. silently, you wiggle yourself just enough to reach his face so you can place a peck on his lips and he hums.

another, his eyes say and you indulge him, sinking into his embrace and letting him guide you back to his mouth. morning breath is nothing to the both of you, grinning into the kiss when satoru loses himself and his embrace starts to loosen. the kiss still holds you captive, though, the other moaning softly when you deepen it with some tongue.

“you’re just going to leave me hangin’?” geto’s voice calls out from beside you, and gojo’s excited suguru! gives you just that sliver of time to slip away from the two as they catch up but—

“you’re not going anywhere, missus,” gojo pulls on your arm and you’re falling back into your space in the middle of the both of them, greeted with geto’s lovely laugh and his gentle gaze.

“good morning my loves,” he says, arm draped over the both of you before he leans down to give you a kiss while gojo replies with a good morning as well, also giving a peck to your temple. “what’s on the agenda today?”

“lazing in—”

“i need to pee, firstly,” you pipe up, cutting gojo off and patting his puffed out cheeks. grabbing his face, you wiggle his head just to emphasise your point, “your man here has been preventing me from going to the bathroom.”

“ahem! our man,” gojo corrects, sticking his tongue out just enough to lick your hand and you shriek in disgust while his giggles only fill the room.

“satoru, c’mon, let her go.” and again, the other only cuddles you closer to him, long, lanky limbs trapping your body. geto has a hand on yours like he’s trying his best to console you.

“but— she’s so much nicer to cuddle! did i ever tell you suguru once hit me in the face with his arm?”

and you laugh while the other only sighs and chaos erupts once he stands up and says in faux disappointment — “okay, i’m making breakfast for myself only. guess i lost two partners today.”

“hello?! i didn’t even do anything!” you shout in incredulity, words muffled once gojo slaps a hand over your mouth and laughs, watching through the bathroom mirror at how he chuckles at the both of you. you lick gojo’s hand and he moans obnoxiously.

geto did end up making the both of you some breakfast after some convincing (it was mostly gojo yelling “pleasepleaseplease” in the bathroom and interrupting brushing teeth time), but he’s got around it with a sloppy kiss given to the both of you, sat at the wooden table you commissioned — large enough to bring friends over but small enough for it to feel intimate with your two boyfriends.

“on the real agenda, we need to go for some grocery shopping,” geto suggests, reaching diagonally to you to wipe off the bits of strawberry lingering at the corner of your lips and gojo shouts a loud oh!, running from the table to grab his phone that he’s left on the bedside table. naturally, he has become so enamoured with the both of you that he doesn’t even need his phone to entertain him that much.

“i made the list like you asked, sugu,” and you’re giggling when you see his eyebrow raise, positive that on the list, there was more of what the house didn’t need than what it did.

silently, you’re helping to clear all three of your plates that had coatings of maple syrup on it, apart from gojo’s who licked his squeaky clean. a smile spreads across your face when you hear them bicker, a common occurrence.

“baby, there’s more candy than actual groceries on here.”

“but suguruuuu . .” gojo pulls this all the time and it hardly works on geto any more, so the both of them invade your cleaning escapades to argue. like the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other, satoru sucks up to your boyfriend, suguru appeals to you.

“should we listen to him?” leaning against the counter, geto rests his arm around your torso, sidling right up to your face who only gives him a small grin.

gojo follows suit. “sweetness, don’t listen to him. you know you love the sweets i buy, i’ll even buy you your favourite brand!”

here in this kitchen in the house that gojo had no problem expanding to accommodate the both of you were all that you know in this mess of a world, destined to exorcise curses for as long as you live, but it wasn’t so bad when you had the strongest duo beside you, talking over each other on whether meiji chocolate was more important than buying celery for tonight’s dinner. 

“boys.” turning off the tap, you shake off the water and turn around in their arms only to see what had escalated: geto ready to summon a curse, gojo crossing his fingers in his muryōkūsho pose, all the while keeping an arm around you like everything’s fine. and as chaotic dating the both of them were, you don’t mind putting both their hands down and calming the situation down.

with a laugh, you give one kiss to both cheeks. “let’s just buy both, okay?”

and satoru leaps to hug you, planting endless kisses on your face while suguru sighs, then smiles, defeated. “plus, we can just make ’toru pay for everything, can’t we?”

“and then make him cook tonight.” you suggest, not-so-quietly.

gojo stops, “hey!”

i didnt write the grocery shopping part since i alr rambled off about it here but maybe next time we’ll see :)

[cyxnidx]

HI HI HELLO! I saw ur cat n mouse gamr for Wriothesley and loved the idea so much! I would like to request f! Reader x wanderer (genshin) playing a cat n mouse game as well hehe. And if you dont mind please do write more on the smut part I am very curious on how itll play out 🫢 TY!

CAT & MOUSE 2 !

character pairing: wanderer / scaramouche x f!reader

warnings: smut, degradation(use of 'slut, whore') + a little praise, oral (m!receiving), cat & mouse game, slight bondage (ropes🤭)

a/n: Hi~, apologies for such a late response :(. had to get some sort of inspo flowing. i'm glad you enjoyed, & hope you enjoy this one even more <3.

"where are you, slut." wanderer's tone echos throughout the house.

you're hiding - hiding, being bratty, as usual. getting your boyfriend all riled up, only to leave him to deal with his boner himself.

not this time, though. it seems you've gotten him a little too riled up today.

you slap a hand over your mouth when you hear his shoes against the hardwood floor, hoping he doesn't find you.

now you're realizing its foolish - and your hiding place doesn't make it any better. under the bed, really?

"come out, come out, wherever you are.." he calls again, obviously teasing you. hes so close, so near, yet you don't have sight of him.

the adrenaline rush is addictive. it's probably the main reason you're doing this to begin with. the rush of hiding, and the chance of being caught, and fucked to oblivion?

its addicting.

you notice it goes quiet. it doesnt seem like the wanderer is walking anymore, nor is he calling for you.

theres only one conclusion you can come to when this occurs.

and before you know it, you're yanked up by your ankles and pinned to the ground.

you've been caught.

you fight him, for the fun of it. to give him a hard time, not that you want to win. not necessarily. the whole point is to get under his skin.

finally, he gets you under control, and thats when you notice a rope being held between his teeth. he holds your hands above your head with one hand, while with the other, he works to tie your wrists together.

"scara - let's talk about this!" you whine, only adding fuel to the fire. you knew he wouldn't wanna talk - why would he?

without a word, he throws you onto the bed you once were taking cover under. "not another word, you hear me?" he demands. "say anything more, and I'll stuff that pretty mouth with my cock."

your eyes narrow, analyzing his. lust swirls in his pupils, a gaze of daggers stabbing you. though, despite the betting stare he's giving, you take it as an opportunity to provoke him more.

"well, if you're so bold, do it-"

you're basically cut off at the last syllable of your sentence when he moves you off the bed. his grip is harsh on your waist, and you were on the ground before you knew it.

"open your mouth," he says in a haste, unbuckling his pants and fiddling with his zipper.

"wha-"

"open. your. fucking. mouth." he demands, stroking the bud of precum over his cock as he waits. you let your tongue fall out of your mouth, mouth wide, awaiting to be filled by his cock.

not taking more than a minute, he shoves his cock down your throat, immediately fucking you.

"you," he pants, the warmth of your throat hitting him like a truck. like a pressure he never knew he needed for the minute. "fuckin' slut. always rilin' me up n', shit."

he continues to shove himself down your throat, your gags filling the otherwise quiet house. he grabs a harsh fistful of your hair and your hands go to massage his balls, tempting him to cum down your throat.

his head tilts back. "god, damnit. you're sucha little slut, fuck, taking my cock like a good little girl. mmh, g'na let me cum down your slutty little throat? huh?"

you attempt to moan in response, the tightening gesture throwing scaramouche over the edge, filling your throat with his seed.

he waits for you to finish sucking every little bit off his cock before moving you to the bed. "good little slut, you must like to be used." he mumbles, turning you over on your stomach and arching your back. "g'na treat you how you want, yeah? like the little whore you love to be."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?

This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦

‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’

Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.

Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.

You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.

‘I’ll make it up to you-‘

‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.

Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘

‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.

Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.

He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.

He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.

He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.

As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.

You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.

He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.

You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.

‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.

*knock, knock, knock*

[talaok]

The Mask

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You ask your husband Joel to buy a Ghostface mask to wear during your "alone time", and he’s more than happy to comply

Warnings: smut| mask kink, sir kink, degradation, threats of anal (but no actual anal), unprotected p in v sex, choking, Joel has a bit too much fun fulfilling your fantasy... but then also aftercare and soft husband!Joel cause ill always go back to my fluffy roots (also i don't specify it but obv they've talked about all their boundaries and everything, so they know each other's limits)

It had been such a stressful day that the last thing you had in mind was what had happened yesterday.

With Sarah wanting to change costume last minute because apparently she now hated the idea of being a princess and wanted to be a witch, with Molly's helicopter of a mom constantly calling you to make sure your daughter wouldn't get to the sleepover with lice or carrying a snack that god forbid had gluten in it... it had been such a hectic day that, once Joel finally managed to ride Sarah to her Halloween sleepover, all you wanted to do was lie in bed and hide under the covers... which is what you did...for twenty minutes, before you surrendered to the inevitable task of cleaning up the mess you'd made on the vanity from doing Sarah's makeup.

And it was then, as you were huffing and sighing loudly into what you thought was an empty house, that a figure appeared behind you, making your body run cold with fear, and your heart start to beat out of your chest.

You remained immobilized, frozen in your spot, watching from the mirror as the figure approached, backing away from where he was leaning on the door to walk towards you slowly...

And then you got it, your brain recovered from the scare and you pieced it together.

Such a quick conversation, such a quick decision you'd made as you shopped for Sarah's costume, that in all the chaos, it had managed to slip your mind.

"Ghostface?" he'd frowned once you handed him the mask "I don't think Sarah's even old enough to watch that movie"

And at that you had smiled, looking up at him with that devilish smile you got whenever you got a special idea.

"it's not for her"

his brows knitted in puzzlement again

God, for being such a smart man he sure was dense sometimes

"You wanna dress up too sweetheart?" he asked, making you inevitably snort.

"No" you'd laughed "it's for you"

"for me? what would I need to put this on f-"

And that was when he got it, watching you bite your bottom lip, as that particular spark lighted your eyes, then, he finally put it together.

"ohhh" he he breathed, a smirk making its way to his lips as soon as he realized "Oh yeah, we're definitely buying this"

And that's how you ended up here, watching your masked husband grab your waist to host you up so you were flashed against him, against his tight black t-shirt and black jeans.

You couldn't feel his breath, but you could hear him breathe heavily beside your neck, right against your ear, looking at you from the mirror and studying you as if you were a pray.

Now this wasn't the first time you'd asked him to do something... kinkier, you had made him buy a blindfold, you had your fair amount of toys locked in your bedside drawer, and you were sure some rope and one of those little leather whips you'd purchased once were still somewhere in your wardrobe, but this, the dressing up, the putting on a mask... this, you'd never done, this was all new...

And god were you excited.

"so..." he spoke, his voice huskier than usual, a giveaway of just how much he was enjoying this too already "You've got a boyfriend?"

Now if he got to play the part, so wanted you. 

What fun would this be otherwise?

"I've got a husband" you murmured, your voice faint, seemingly scared.

"mh..." he hummed, his head tilting downwards as if he was looking at you up and down "Lucky husband"

You wanted to say something, anything, but before you could even breathe he had turned you around, his strong, veiny hands gripping your waist.

"P-please" you shut your eyes "Please don't hurt me Mr. Ghostface"

A faint chuckle came from beside the mask

"It's sir" he corrected

Oh he knew you so fucking well

"I-I'm sorry... sir" you whimpered, trying to get used to not getting to look into his hazel eyes, but instead into two big black holes. 

"A-are you gonna hurt me, sir?"

His thick fingers caressed your sides, as he took his time answering you

"no" he finally said "Not if you behave" he explained, his grip tightening, a simple gesture, a simple threat "Are you gonna behave y/n?"

"y-yes" you nodded, actually believing it now, actually losing yourself in the fantasy.

He didn't need to say anything, all he did was tilt his head, and you had realized your mistake.

"yes, sir"

"good girl"

Just two words, and your panties were drenched.

He didn't speak, all he did was break away from you to walk backward until he could sit on the edge of the bed, watching you expectantly.

"go on"

that's all he said, and fuck but that's all you needed.

Your eyes remained on him as you took off every piece of your clothing. You started softly tugging your shirt off, listening to his breathing falter, then you got rid of your pants, then it was time to undo your bra, and then finally, finally you were shuffling your panties down your legs just to step out of them.

A whispered groan fled his lips at the sight, and he couldn't help but stand up to meet you.

His right palm landed on your asscheeks before you even realized what was happening, and a soft whimper escaped your throat in response

"real lucky husband" he growled

An hour ago, you were trying his daughter's Halloween costume on her in this exact room, and now there you were, naked, in front of your masked husband.

"please sir" you pleaded

"What?" he hushed "What do you want?"

He was slowly rounding you, bringing a hand around your torso with him, sending shivers everywhere they could be

"I-I"

"I want to hear you say it" he purred, right against your ear now "I want to hear you beg for my cock, beg for me to fuck you, I know you want it"

"I- Sir, I-"

"I want you to admit just how much of a slut you are" he murmured, now in front of you "I want you to admit just how much you want it"

“Please Sir-i need you”

“Mhh” he hummed, “what do you need?”

His left hand started a slow path down your belly, igniting shivers with his touch, until he was right there, and all he did was cup your pussy and he broke you completely

“You, I-inside of me” you whimpered

"is that right?" he taunted, tilting his head

"yes" you nodded "yes, please sir-"

But once again, he had turned you around like a doll, powerless to his strength, and stole your words from your tongue.

The table rutted from the impact once he pushed your back down on it, your head almost hitting the hardwood.

"Is this what you want?" 

His rough jeans and hard bulge were flashed against your bare ass, making you squirm.

"answer me" he demanded, gripping your hair to yank your head back so you could look at him from the mirror "I asked you a question"

"yes" you murmured "Yes please"

A snicker made its way to your ears as you heard the familiar sound of his zipper undoing.

"aren't you the little whore..." he growled, his insult only rendering you all the more desperate as he slapped his cock on your asscheeks "You'd let me put it anywhere I want?" he mocked, his tip infiltrating between your crack and probing at your other entrance "even in this pretty little hole?"

You gasped.

"I bet you would" he teased "I bet you'd let me do anything I want with you" his head tilted to the left, watching you biting your lip as you tried to keep a straight face, and failing miserably "you're just a poor slut that's desperate to be filled, you don't care in which hole, do you?" he asked now, "answer me"

"y-yes" you stuttered "I-I'm a slut, I'll take anything you'll give me sir, just please-"

"please what?"

"please put it in"

you couldn't see the smirk on his lips, but you sure as hell could hear it.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

And it was then, it was then that he trusted his whole length and girth inside of you with one single push, making you cry out into the thick air and forcing the whole table to shake just for him to not even wait a second, he didn't give you a moment to breathe, a moment to recover, no, he did the opposite... he started splitting you in fucking half.

All the remaining makeup on the vanity was tumbling down onto the floor one by one, but he didn't show signs of slowing down, or god forbid stopping.

The sound of his skin slapping with yours bounced off the walls with each merciless thrust, and you... you were fucking gone.

"look at that" his grip on your hair tightened as he forced your head back even more "I want you to see how much you like this" he groaned, his digits on your waist definitely leaving marks "How much of a slut you are" he spoke "how much you enjoy getting fucked by a stranger"

You wanted to say something, anything really, but as you watched your reflection, your eyes spilling tears, your cheeks wet and your mascara smudged all over... all your mouth could produce were moans, or whimpers, or curses not even belonging to the English language each time his dick hit that spot inside of you that made you want to scream.

"Look at that" Your scalp hurt as he fisted your hair more "Look at how fucking pathetic you look" he spit as you gasped for air and as you felt your belly tighten in that way it did before your release.

"you're gonna cum already?" he realized, his tone mocking "The slut likes it so much she's not even gonna last a minute?"

"Mh-mh" you hummed, "y-yes, I-it's too..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you gripped the edge of the table until your knuckles went white as the orgasm unexpectantly overtook your whole body, only letting you moan out a "good" before you were back to a non-verbal state and cried in pleasure.

He let you ride out your high, but as soon as you came down he had manhandled you and threw you on the bed back down, not even giving you a moment to realize what was happening before he had slipped his cock inside you again.

His hand took hold of your arms and pinned them above your head as you arched your back at the feeling of this new angle. It wasn't as deep but the way his pelvis rutted against your clit with each movement of his hips, made it all just as breathtaking, and speaking of which...

His other hand sneaked up your chest, diverting a moment to grab at your boobs before he was wrapping his fingers around your throat, first gently and then applying more and more pressure, until you were completely in a sensory overload and all you could feel was pleasure in its purest form.

"fuck-look at that, you're so desperate for this cock that your pussy's sucking me back in"

He taunted, his thrusts remaining as unforgiving as ever. 

you had lost all touch with reality, this wasn't your husband, this wasn't you, this wasn't your bedroom this was- you didn't even know what it was, you just knew your brain had stopped working long ago, and you were on the verge of another mindblowing orgasm

"what would your husband think seeing you like this?" he purred as he forced your head to the mirror again, and this time, the image you were met with was only more of a mess, your cheeks red, your mascara nonexistent, and your mouth parted, desperately looking for air that it wasn't gonna find any time soon...

"drunk on another man's cock" he continued, his grip on your neck tightening to the point you were seeing black dots staining your vision "Not even able to speak anymore" he groaned "Look at yourself... such a fucking whore"

And then inevitably, as fucked up as that may be, those words sent you over the edge, your legs shaking and your walls tightening around him as you moaned louder than you'd ever had.

And at the feeling you were granting him, he couldn't help but follow suit, filling you up with a loud groan, until his juices and yours mixed as they ran down your thighs.

It took more than a moment for either of you to get back to reality, but as always, Joel managed to beat you to it, pulling out of you and taking his mask off, revealing his flushed and fucked out state as he whispered a low "fuck"

"sweetheart?" he called, stroking your cheek once you wouldn't open your eyes "Are you ok?" he asked "Did I go too far?"

"n-no" you murmured almost inaudibly as you shook your head "You were... perfect, I'm just" a yawn interrupted your words

Tired. 

he didn't need you to finish the sentence, all he did was pick you up and place you softly on your side of the bed, positioning your head gently on the pillow

"stay here, I'll clean you up"

As if there was any chance you'd get out of bed after that

And he did, he cleaned you between your thighs with a wet cloth, gave you a tall glass of water to drink, and then set you under the covers just to join you a moment later, watching you crawl closer to him until each part of your body was touching one of his.

"Better?" he asked, petting your hair as you looked up at him with your head on his chest 

"yes" you smiled "Thank you"

he stroked your back as he leaned down to kiss you "I love you" he promised

"I love you" you vowed back

He smiled too now as he leaned back on the headboard

"you wanna watch something?"

"sure"

"mhh" he hummed, pointing the remote at the tv "Got anything in mind?"

And there it was again, that dangerous dangerous grin

"How about Scream?"

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Obedience

My friend had gone home for the summer and returned all kinds of fucked up. At first when he had come back, I hardly recognized him. Gone was the twig who had sat on the bench for his high school football team. He looked and acted like he had been the star player. He, however, refused to acknowledge anything was different. For weeks he was talking up how he wanted to hit the dating scene in town, and he had gone home a few nights with some guys from the bars, but he always said after they weren’t what he was looking for.

After weeks of this I finally had swung by his apartment for the first time since he was back. Even here, where abandoned crafts and junk food was usually scattered, the place was filled with video games, protein powders, and the spare bedroom had been converted into an at home gym. When I arrived, he was in a white tank, a common look these days. He was hooking up the video game system for us to play a few rounds of Madden.

Whatever it was, I was quickly bored with the game and we moved to watching a movie. For the first time in a while it felt nice to feel comfortable with him, and began relaxing. It was about then that he wrapped his arm around me. Eventually, we were softly cuddled on the couch as I began feeling a way I hadn’t since I broke it off with my GF.

Something about the way his arms were soft and strong just felt so right. This close I smelled his worn through deodorant and musk, as I slowly felt myself melt into his arms, nuzzled into his pit. I felt myself slowly slip away as he turned to me and gently kissed my neck.

“Get up,” he said. Softly but firmly. Dream like, I followed his command as I wandered after him into the home gym.

As I laid down on the bench, he handed me a pair of goggles, instructing me to slip them on. As I did, a pleasant spiral was set in front of my eyes. He then began rubbing my body, whispering instructions in my ear. “I have been looking for a new partner for a while. So many had such promise but turned out to be such failures. But you are going to be my good boy, so strong, cute, and obedient.”

My mind perked up when he said that, but quickly he re-positioned himself on top of me and fixed his pits back under my nose.

Between the overwhelming smell, the spiral, and the feeling of his body now pressed against mine, my mind could only accept what happened next.

I could feel my body begin to grow. It started in my feet, stretching across the floor. Then up my calves, on fire as they swelled nice and strong. It hit my thighs and ass, swelling with a mixture of muscle and fat that raised my body off the bench. My stomach slimmed slightly as new pecs pushed out begging to be grabbed. A slight tickle creeped as hair pushed out, leaving my torso nice and fuzzy. Thick ropes of muscle wrapped around my arms as my fingers held tightly onto my…boyfriend’s? back. My face reshaped to support a handsome jawline and a strong beard and mustache. As the changes wrapped tightly around my mind, I felt years of studies and memories slowly drain down into my growing pouch. My balls quickly swelled, begging for release as my mind was left much better, simply focused on the most important thing: my boyfriend and making him happy.

He carefully climbed off, slipped the mask off my face, and looked at his new half.

“God babe you’re so fucking hot”

I stood up and answered him with a kiss. He simply picked me up and took me into the bedroom. I submitted, ready for the release that would cement me as his.

Over the next few weeks, we continued to train, game, and make out. He quickly got me on a plan to keep me growing for him. I was more than happy to oblige. I have no memories before him. My boyfriend is my world. And he lets me know after every work out how hard his life would be without me.

[bihanspookies]

Giving Raiden His First Handjob

Warnings: first handjob, very very minimal cum eating (it’s like a taste really)

Make outs with Raiden were always a grand time, his soft full lips always treating yours with such tender, love and care. How he gently caresses your face in between his rough and calloused hands, making sure to handle you with the upmost delicacy. How his hands wanted to wander but always remained on your either face, neck or shoulders, waiting for your okay to touch you anywhere else.

Even though he so desperately wanted you to be the one to touch him.

He currently lays on top of you, lips moving gingerly against yours while his hands rest on your cheek and neck. He can feel the heat slowly rising between you two, the bulge in his pants becoming more prominent every time you swiped your tongue over his.

After a few more moments he breaks the kiss, breathing heavily through his nose as he rests his forehead against your own. You say nothing, simply running your fingers through his hair before planting sweet tender kisses across his cheek and jaw.

“You okay?” You murmur faintly.

He nods, taking a second to clear his throat before burying his face in your neck. You can feel the heat from his cheeks emanating onto your skin, making a small smile grace your lips.

“I’m just… very turned on right now.”

His confession has you grinning, biting down on your bottom lip while you scratch his scalp with your nails.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

You hear him swallow, his fingers flexing into your shoulder before he gives you a subtle nod.

“Please.”

You give one more kiss on his cheek, his faint stubble tickling your lips before your hand descends down his chest and palms his erection through his pants. He gasps into your neck, grunting quietly and rolling his hips into your touch. You plant more kisses on him as you massage him, squeezing your fingers and feeling him pulse in your palm. Eventually you shift his pants down, a hiss passing through him when his cock is exposed to the cool air. You wrap your fingers around him, thumb smearing the beads of precum that collected at the tip.

“This okay, love?”

“More than okay.” He rasps out, nosing his way up your throat and back to your mouth. He kisses you hard, rocking himself into your delicate hand. He nips at you, you happily obliging and parting your lips for access to his tongue. Your hand continues its slow ministrations, taking time to go all the way to the base and back to the top. A particular squeeze has him grunting, pulling away a bit from you.

“Darling, this is uh, my first…”

You stop moving your hand but don’t remove it, instead turning to look at Raiden with half lidded eyes.

“Do you want me to slow down?” Your voice is tender and he can’t help but laugh, shaking his head and looking at you lovingly with those gorgeous brown eyes.

“Gods no, this is perfect.”

Raiden isn’t shy letting you know how good he’s feeling, moaning and panting deliciously as you stroke his cock. It was his first handjob but you two weren’t strangers to getting a little handsy with each other. His mouth has made itself familiar with your chest, fingers usually drifting down to pleasure you under your pants or even bringing you onto his lap to grind against you. It was always about your needs, him putting you above himself and while you loved how he took care of you it was due time for him to receive some back.

“That feels good, love. Really really good.”

He breathes your name heavily, his features contorted in bliss as you maintain eye contact with one another and bring him closer and closer to the edge. His moans start to stutter, hips moving faster into your hand the more you please him.

“Darling, I’m close. Where do you—“

“Right here, it’s okay. Just let go.”

Your words have him rolling his eyes, that knot tightening in his stomach and within a few seconds has him spilling his pearly ropes right onto your hand and shirt. His eyebrows are furrowed, mouth open in a long moan as you keep touching him, milking him to the very last drop until he starts to laugh from the overstimulation.

His places a shaky hand on top of yours to stop you, interlacing your fingers together and bringing it back to his lips to give a grateful kiss. He doesn’t mind tasting his own seed, too focused on your flushed face and lust blown eyes.

“Thank you, my love. I’ll be sure to repay the favor.”

You shush him with a kiss, brushing your nose against his in a loving manner.

“Next time, I will repay you with my mouth instead.”

He shudders, already feeling blood rushing down to his soft cock.

“Next time might be closer than you think.”

[maiiruo]

abby anderson secretly loved when you got all dominant. she was desperate, carnal to make you feel so, so good.

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა⋆｡°✩ abby was so rarely submissive. she rarely let you dom her and, when she did, she would act all stubborn when you finished—as if she wasn’t the one begging to be fucked like, 5 minutes ago.

this time, you wanted to surprise her. knowing abby, she would act like she wasn’t enjoying it, only giving in once you slowly broke her and brought her to her limit. she done it to herself, really. she had just come back from patrol, putting on her big girl front as if you couldn’t tell she probably, no, definitely overworked herself again. as usual. “i’m fine! you think a few runners could shake me?” you were watching her chest rise and fall, up..down..up..down. she was trying so hard not to show how out of breath she was. “abby…you can tell me if it was a lot, you know that?” “course i do! come on, don’t worry about me. i wanna worry about you.”

she snaked her hands around your waist, so much bigger than yours that you were always surprised at how perfectly she fit against you. her arms tensed, veins lightly showing as she held your thighs to lift you, taking you both to your room with ease. you played along, moaning through kisses, telling her how much you wanted her. although you wanted to tease her, the temptation to give in was so, so strong.

eventually, you told her you wanted to ride her. nothing more, nothing less. “my pretty girl wants to ride me? sure, if your thighs don’t give out.” her pretty smile mocked you—she didn’t think you could do it. typical.

she already had her strap, laying on her back with that stupid smirk on her face. if stupid meant unbelievably hot you were dripping down your thighs, then yeah, she looked so fucking stupid. grabbing the rope from the drawer, you tied her arms together as tight as you could and gave her simple instructions. “you can’t touch me unless i say so.” her eyes widened, “fuck…are you trying to dom me again? god no, baby please not today. i just wanna fuck you, please?” she said “trying” as if you hadn’t done it before. she was in denial and it showed, so, so clearly.

it was your turn to use that stupid smile she always weaponised against you, giggling as you sat on her stomach and her ‘stupid smile’ turned into an extremely pissed scowl. you teased her nipples on top of her vest, using her sensitivity to your advantage. “f-fuck baby, come on. i can’t do this again.” you acted like you couldn’t hear her, still fixated on how her nipples perked up under the fabric, friction making her back arch so slightly. it was funny, really. the way you being gentle made her so frustrated. if you treated her the way she did you, you’re convinced she might genuinely die.

finally, you lifted her vest to get a look at her pretty nipples, all swollen and so much more sensitive than they were before. the cold nipped her skin, warmth only enclosing her once your lips latched around her. “shit…you wanted to s-see my boobs that bad?” she was still trying to uphold her little facade as if you couldn’t see her eyes flittering everytime you touched her.

“baby. i’m done, p-please let me fuck you. god i can’t do this.” she always did this. saying she ‘can’t do this’ before you even started doing anything. “you’ll be fine, abby. i’ll make you feel good, yeah?”

after abby waited “so long”, her words, you moved yourself off of her stomach to straddle her thighs, placing kisses on her red cheeks despite her still trying to look mean. she couldn’t intimidate you when she was the one tied up, completely vulnerable for you. “you wanna fuck me? you have to beg for it.” you’re sure she knew that yet her pride was still overbearing. “fuck no. i don’t know what you’re on for you to even think of me begging.”

as you said, she did it to herself. her pride was higher than anyone you’d ever seen, saying she needed to fuck you yet her pride was this strong? textbook insanity, probably.

apparently, you didn’t make her desperate enough for her to beg which seemed close to a crime in abby’s eyes. you put one of your hands behind her to rest on her leg, leaving your cunt exposed right in front of her face, letting her see how good it would feel to have your slick all over her cock. “oh this is fucking low.” she knew what you were doing and she hated it, struggling to undo herself of the binds you forced her into. you pushed your fingers between her pretty lips before slipping them through the folds of your pussy and exaggerating your whimpers to let her know what she was missing, what her pride was forcing her to miss out on.

“god fine i’ll beg, just—please. baby i need you, please let me fuck you—i’m sorry, i was stubborn but i promise i’ll be good. please ride me, i’ll do anything.” butterflies swarmed your stomach hearing abby beg so desperately. it had an effect no one else could even come close to replicating. still trying to uphold your dominance, you slowly slid down onto her cock while maintaining eye contact with abby—poor girl was more flustered than ever, she didn’t know what to do with herself. “you gonna call me mommy?” you teased her, half sure that she would use the last of her energy to call you insane for even asking. “uh-huh—t-thank you mommy, you’re so perfect…fuck—wanna touch you so bad, please m-mommy.” her eyes glossed over and her hips bucked ever so slightly, still fighting the ropes you tied her with.

the friction from her strap grazed her clit so gently, more than enough for her to completely lose it. her voice became so much louder than yours, whimpers that filled the room and her embarrassment no longer mattered. “m-mommy i wanna make you cum, please cum for me i’ll be good, i promise. i know i was lying—i won’t do it again, p-please i’m sorry.”

“baby— mommy, i’m sorry. please don’t stop, i won’t do it again.” she was so close to tears all because you stopped, her desperation taking complete control of her senses. of course it was only a strap but she could’ve sworn she could feel you around her cock. you carried on making yourself feel good, using her for your benefit and keeping the same speed you were at before.

“y-you want mommy to cum for you?” you were breathless, thighs aching from how hard you were fucking yourself. you’d never tell her that—she’d never let you live it down. “uh-huh, mhm please cum for me, i wanna cum with you mommy, please let me cum.” your voices revelled in each other, satisfaction filling the thick air that was filled with your sexes and your sweetness leaving a ring around the base of her cock. you slipped your middle and ring finger into your cunt one last time before making abby “open up.”, making her whimper as her tongue indulged in how fucking good you tasted.

you gently untied abby’s ropes before laying on her chest, kissing her nose and explaining how proud you were, how good she was for you. the embarrassment came flooding back through her head, hands flying to her face as her brain replayed the sounds she made, the things she said. “god i am never letting you do that again.” you gave her your famous sure you won’t look that made her double over, talking under her breath as if you both weren’t pressed up against each other. “maybe sometimes, or whatever.”

don’t steal, translate or repost my work

©maiiruo

[yourdoorisunlocked]

ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠᴇxᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

𝐀/𝐍: Whew! Ok, I'm taking a small break right now- I have one more request to do, and ofc as soon as I can I'll finish it, but I don't want to burn myself out or anything.

I'm just taking a quick writing rehab right now. Nonetheless, the banter was so fun to do, and I hope you all like it!

If I do write another chapter for the week, it'll probably be for What A Dish, What A Doll!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,903 ➺ Song Recommendation: 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 | 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼

. . .

The chill of February’s frosted breath graced the glass panes of the largest building in the Vee’s district, an imposing force that not-so-subtly hinted at how far their influence and power expanded across the Sinner’s Circle of Hell, as it stood right in the heart of the Pride Ring for all to flock to. No matter how depraved, sadistic, or perverted you were, the territory of the Vees surely had something in store for your insatiable appetite to feast upon. 

And since the first twenty-four hours of the infamously romantic month, chaos had erupted within the offices of the Vees. Other than Halloween, it was the greatest vice of Vox’s hellish existence, filling his calendar to the brim with meetings, product improvement, managing holiday events and sales, and not to mention Velvet’s stupid “Love Potion” gimmick- 

For Christ’s sake, the goddamn holiday started with a ‘V’! Their brand of perfection practically relied on that lovey-dovey nonsense. 

For the past week, the only thing filling up Vox’s schedule and keeping him from you was showcasing shitty rom coms with horribly conceived plots, Velvet rushing around like a mini-hurricane and destroying everything in her wake for her latest fashion show, and Valentino? 

Oh, don’t even get Vox fucking started. 

And now, after all of that overwhelming bullshit that kept him from warming your bed for the past few days, Vox desperately wanted – no, needed to escape and spend quality time with his darling. With you.  

He had the usual Valentine’s Day blueprint in mind: eat ice cream and binge-watch your favorite TV-shows, while you flustered the hell out of him with your affections and make hot chocolate, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms by the fire.

Mundane, cheesy shit like that was the highlight of his days after another exhausting workday keeping it all roped together and navigating Velvet and Valentino's nonsense. 

Their facade was of modern sophistication, perfection at its very finest that was produced for only those who could afford it, and it was all piled into Vox’s lap to regulate the chaotic, unpredictable behavior of his fellow Overlords, and keep their volatile nature in check. 

But the continuous hardship that came with his stressful job would fade with the wintry wind as soon as he stepped off the elevator and into your shared penthouse, and like a patch of sunlight to snow, you’d melt away all his worries with a smile and a rub of his head as you took care of him for the night. 

Almost there... 

The television demon groaned as he crossed the threshold over to your apartments, seeing no need to keep up his perfectly aligned posture. 

And, like a mercy served by Gods, Vox was met with the heavenly sight of you standing in your fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that you’d received on your birthday, courtesy of Val. Vox would’ve personally burned it to high hell, but you adored the design, and he couldn’t resist you when you pleaded with him. 

“Vox...” crossing your arms at the doorway, his light, his spark, his reason to maintain everything about his own reputation stood with a stern furrow in your brow as you strode over to him. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been overworking yourself again, love,” you grumbled as you took off his bowtie and removed his coat, and you smoothed out the front of his striped vest as Vox stumbled for an answer. 

“I-” *sigh* “I’m not pushing myself that much. You know how the job is, especially around this time,” seeing your face fall and your lips tighten into a straight line, Vox took your hand, squeezing it within his gloved palms as his sharp teeth pulled into a small half-smile. 

“But coming home to you makes it all worth it,” a tender hand dancing with waves of tingling sparks cupped your cheek, and with a heavy sigh, you looked to him with concern and affection swirling within your tender gaze. 

“Yeah, yeah. All I’m saying is those two bumbling excuses of Overlords should at least give you a couple of days off,” you scowled softly, but your frown melted into a flustered pout as Vox kissed it away, and a soft buzz of electricity lingered against your lips. 

“Now, now, enough of that, my dear. We still have the whole night to ourselves, don’t we?” You giggled, a long-awaited melody to his ears as Vox spun you around to press your back against his chest. How beautifully the sound replaced Velvet's usual grating, shrill voice that penetrated his ears. How agreeable you were, that you didn't fight him like Valentino, that you truly cared about him and his well-being.

Sometimes, you'd even force his workaholic ass to return to your apartment and get him ready for bed, practically hauling your grumbling, overworked hubby into bed, and forcing him to sleep in the next morning.

And it was the sappy, lovesick moments like these always reminded Vox that he'd never find anyone else like you.

All the more reason to keep you tightly within his grasp...

“Yeah, I guess, so. You dork,” you flicked the very center of your husband’s face, and he blinked a few times in surprise before chuckling and shaking his head. 

“Oh, yeah? And what does that make you for loving me~?” Vox swayed against you gently, his inner fans suddenly warming himself up more than usual as he poorly attempted to conceal his light blush at having you so close.

Your laughter chimed through the air like the first sunbeams breaking through stormy gray clouds upon the aftermath of a thunderstorm. 

“Well, I suppose that makes me your lover,” you simpered right back at him, turning your head slightly so you could stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

It felt almost like a dream when you were in Vox’s arms like this. Simply existing with each other, standing above the Pride Ring as if you ruled the entire Sinner’s Circle. Untouchable, ambitious, and madly in love. 

As if on cue, the sound of a gentle, reflective saxophone poured from the speakers installed within the penthouse as the lights dimmed, and you felt yourself drifting away as you swayed with your husband.  

The soft buzz of electricity bounced against your figure as Vox stared down at you, his dead, automated heart pounding erratically as his hands slid from yours down to your waist, digging into the fabric of your robe with sharpened claws. 

“Vox...?” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

With a deep breath, you lilted your voice as you spoke to him, in hopes that seeming more placating and docile could shake Vox’s stance upon his insistence to work himself to the bone. No more would you allow yourself to stand hopelessly to the side while you watched your husband work himself into such a distressed, sleep-deprived state. 

“I’m putting my foot down. You’re not going back to that horrible place for the next week, at least.” Vox stiffened at your tone of finality. 

“Excuse me?” He chuckled as if you were joking with him, but your resolute glare told him otherwise. “Check your phone.” 

With a hesitant glance towards his pocket, Vox slowly pulled out his phone, only to find that, in fact, every work-related app had been temporarily blocked from the device. 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked back at you and tapped your nose with a haughty smirk. “Nice try, but it’s going to take more than that for me to fall for your wiles, my dear,”  

When you only grinned up at him with no hint of malice nor any trace of exasperation tugging at your usual, beautiful smile, his triumphant grin fell. “Why are you looking at me like that? What...” 

 A slow realization turned in Vox's mind as he recollected the last few days, when you were poking and prodding at him and his programming for “no apparent reason,” and he wrote it off as curiosity born from your boredom while being locked up at the penthouse apartment. 

But by fuck, he was really regretting indulging you right now, for once. 

With a surge of panic, Vox immediately blue-screened, as he mentally checked for any of his work-related tabs and files, only to find them completely, and suspiciously empty. 

No notes. No texts. No documents. 

Nothing. 

You... You fucking hacked into his mainframe!? 

His interface returned to normal to find you slumped against him, only perking up when you saw your husband had returned from his frenzied search of the crime that had been committed; the heinous act of keeping Vox from working.

And here the culprit was standing, swooning and relaxing in his hold, nuzzling against him as if she wasn’t to blame for his entire workspace vanishing off the face of the Earth for the next seven days.

“Well...?” 

“...How long have you been planning this?” Vox was absolutely aghast. He knew you could be impulsive, perhaps even irrational, compared to your cool, collected husband, but this was... 

You grinned triumphantly as you tapped his nose right back. 

“I just thought you could use a few days off, spending some time in your wife's company for Valentine's Day~..."

“But when did you- No, how the hell-?” 

“It seems that you’ve fallen victim to my wiles yet again,” 

“Oho, you sneaky little-!” Vox practically tackled you into a hug as he discharged a small bout of electricity, tickling you with an electrifying warmth, just by holding you against him. 

“C’mon, I’ve got another surprise for you,” with a soft giggle and a gentle tug of his antenna, you pulled Vox from the floor as his free hand shot up to his hat with a small, bashful frown. 

“I told you to stop that!” He outwardly groaned, but you could hear the flustered electrical buzz that Vox emitted whenever you did something to him that he really liked.  

“You know I don’t like it,” he muttered, but as always, you saw right through him. 

“And we both know that’s one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told me,” you grinned back at him cheekily as you pulled him into the living area, where you had spent most of your afternoon setting up when Vox was occupied with his work. 

In the living room, you had set up a small, cozy gaming area. It then hit Vox just how long you had been setting this up, waiting for him to drop his guard and into your scheming hands.

That little criminal...

Two controllers, one for you, and one for Vox, sat upon a pile of fluffy blankets. A few pillows draped in silk cloth surrounded the area on the couch, and before it upon the coffee table, there sat a freshly made bowl of popcorn, and various other chocolate candies and snacks.

“Hm... Seems like someone’s been itching for a rematch.” A challenge glinted in his sensors, and you leaned into him with an equally blazing ire.

"You wanna bet...?"

. . .

“GODDAMN FUCKING BLUE SHELL! I’LL DESTROY YOU, YOU SPIKED SON OF A BITCH!”  

“HA-HA! GUESS WHO’S IN THE LEAD, NOW!?”  

Your fingers pressed the controller furiously as the TV blared in front of you, and as you crossed the finish line, you let out a whoop of victory, nearly falling out of Vox’s lap in your bout of triumph. 

“Yes!” “No!! Fuck!”  

You and Vox shouted simultaneously, making you burst into a fit of triumphant laughter as he groaned and slumped defeatedly behind you. 

“Are you serious!? That’s the fifth time in a row!” Vox nearly crushed his controller in his vice grip as he threw a slew of curses at the TV.  

The two of you had been playing Mario Kart for the past hour, blissfully unaware of how your gaming match had whisked the both of you into a heated competition of bumper cars and tallying points for each round someone won, and the winner would be picking the movie you watched.

You stuck your tongue out at him with a victorious beam. “It seems the Nintendo wants us to watch the Kissing Booth tonight,” you giggled madly when Vox’s face scrunched up in disgust.  

“Yeah, babe, there is no way I’m watching that.” 

“Aw, come on, I won fair and square!" you leaned into your husband, who sighed with exasperation but softened at the sight of your pout. 

“Please...? I promise we’ll watch whatever you want tomorrow!” 

“It’s my first day off the job, and you want to watch the goddamn Kissing Booth!?” 

"Pretty please, Sparks?" Vox’s aura buzzed softly at the nickname, and he narrowed his eyes down at you as you begged him with your puppy eyes.

“Playing dirty, huh? Fine. Let’s watch your dumbass movie,” Vox pouted with crossed arms as he slumped into the couch in defeat and his antenna buzzed softly in annoyance. It sparked abruptly when you clapped excitedly and pulled him by his collar to lay a tender kiss on his cheek.  

“Thank you! I promise, you’ll love it,” you grinned mischievously and grabbed the remote. 

Vox, in fact, did not love it. In fact, it was so bad that you both started watching it ironically and threw jabs at it occasionally.   

“So, who do you think she should pick? Her psycho-controlling best friend, or the pretty boy with anger issues~,” You leaned your head against his shoulder as you shoveled a handful of popcorn into your mouth, your eyes glued to the screen. 

Vox sighed and rubbed his forehead, equally as invested as you were despite your shared frustration with the film.  

“Honestly? She should dump both of them and run for the goddamn hills.”  

You snorted. “Yeah? Well, I would’ve chosen her boyfriend. He gets better over the next couple of movies.” Vox raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously?”  

Popping a few M&Ms into your mouth, you nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m serious! He gets some serious character development,” you mutter sarcastically, before licking your lips with a shit-eating grin. “He seems really cold and angry on the outside, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him.” 

Nudging his shoulder, you glance not-so-subtly up at him, and Vox took the hint, tickling your sides softly with a smirk. 

“And I’m a dork?” 

“Yeah, and you’re a contagious one, too!” Your hands grabbed at his arms as he crushed you into a hug, pulling you even closer as he rested his head upon yours. 

“Well, then I guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it my dear~?”  

“No! Stop! Please, I can't breathe!” You attempted to flail around dramatically, but within Vox's vice grip, that was next to impossible. 

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m afraid you’re trapped within my wiles, darling!” 

“Curse you! How dare you use my own spells against me!” You giggled as he continued his bombardment of tickles and small, feathered kissing against your nape and the small back of your neck. 

Soon, your laughter died down and you both fell silent as you finished the rest of the movie.

While you slowly began to drift off into sleep in Vox's arms, spent from the day of preparing your apartment for your husband's arrival, he looked down at you with a tender half-smile.

I can't believe someone like you would even look at someone like me...

"Hey, babe-?" He whispered out into the dark, before huffing out a chuckle when he realized you were still asleep.

With a soft smile, and a tender patter of his heart, Vox scooped you up and whisked you away to your bedroom, where he silently dresses you up in a pair of pajamas, and tucked you into bed.

Ever so gently, Vox laid a few of the blankets over your form, dragging them and the silk pillows back from the couch to make his little sleeping beauty ever the more comfortable.

He looked upon you as you dozed the minutes away, blissfully oblivious to the war that raged inside of him. 

While Vox was impressed that you had managed to somehow hack into his mainframe and alter his actual mental programming, it really would take more than basic understanding – plus, you pulled it off unguarded. Now, of course, this spawned a new problem for him, but he’d deal with it in due time. Besides, it’d give him a proper excuse to slack off a little bit, with you. 

God, what was he thinking? The old Vox would’ve seen such a desire to goof around with some girl while the other two Vees went around wreaking havoc and partaking in whatever idiocy without Vox to keep them in check. 

But you weren’t just ‘some girl’ to him. 

And frankly, those two clowns could go fuck themselves. 

A part of Vox wanted to remain in your bed, for your sake, but there was work to be done, and Velvet no doubt was positively livid at the fact that he wasn’t answering any of her calls. 

So, with a newfound confidence in his advances, your husband bent over you, softly pinching your chin within his finely sharpened claws, and laying a few tender kisses trailing from your lips down to your nape. 

I wish I could do this to you when you’re awake... But that smile, fuck, I can’t even form sentences without fumbling when you look at me like all you want is to give me the world. 

You groaned and turned over within the sheets, scooching towards him with a soft furrow in your brow.

Vox kissed it away, before reluctantly pulling away from your side, standing at the door with a small, yearning smile.

“Til morning, my dear.” 

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Valentine's Day from our favorite crazy-ass TV demon!

I'm sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday, but I was feeling so unmotivated by the end of it, and I decided to rewrite most of this fluff fic, just to give you all a quality post.

I don't half-ass things, especially when it comes to writing, that's just why my fics take a while to post.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and comments are always appreciated!

. . . 

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @matrixbearer2024

[sorrowfulrosebud]

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: 𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔎𝔞𝔱𝔰𝔲𝔨𝔦 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔢, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰𝔫’𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔶 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱

Soulmates. What a fucking joke.

It was borderline hilarious to think that a red piece of string no thicker than twine would somehow wrap around a stranger’s pinky and your own, and then suddenly be proclaimed one by the cosmos. It was a reality for your society though, and god did you fucking hate it.

You especially hated it since your soulmate was the reason you were dying.

It had all started during your first year at UA. Adrenaline was coursing through everyone’s veins as they entered the gargantuan doors of the prestigious Class 1-A classroom, marvelling at the sheer size of it.

Katsuki was one of the first people there. Being surprisingly introverted, he wanted to avoid the crowds and find a good seat where he could chill before he could blow shit to oblivion. What he hadn’t intended was for his finger to start twitching like crazy the second the door swung open again.

His pinky finger.

In a single second, a red rope split from the tip of his finger before looping its way around his pinky and travelling across the room to where you stood in awe. Your finger was also driving you insane as the exact same thing happened to you before the rope connected the two of you in the centre.

Both of you stood gobsmacked at the revelation of finding your soulmate. You were filled with so much excitement, so happy and!- wait. Why is he scowling?

Katsuki could feel the initial excitement wear away before the usual irritation seeped through him. Great. Another fucking distraction. He turned his head away from you with an uninterested look, almost shooing you away.

Your smile faltered a little, but not before you gripped your backpack and attempted to make conversation.

“All right class, it took you all seven minutes to shut up. That’s not gonna fly”.

It was so difficult for you to get the handsome stranger’s attention. All throughout the first day, every time you attempted to strike up a conversation, you would be dismissed with a scoff or him immediately walking away.

It was frustrating to say the least. It was an absolute shit show after the training exercise too; Bakugou, as you learned, had a temper as unruly as his hair. Luckily for you, unluckily for him, you managed to catch up to him and nudged him gently on the shoulder.

He glared at you with an intent look, one definitely made to kill.

“What.”

You gulped a little at his gruff scoff before regaining your composure and adorned a small smile.

“Look, I don’t know if you didn’t realise, but we’re soulmates. I was wondering if-“ you were interrupted before you even got the chance to finish.

“You listen here, right freakin’ now. I’m here to become the world’s best hero ever, and I do not need any distractions. This whole soulmates thing is bullshit, just another “fuck you” to people with goals. Do whatever the hell you want, just leave me the fuck alone,” he seethed lowly.

You gulped a little at his intensity. A nervous smile entered your face as you tried to calm him down.

“I understand that it’s… sudden to say the least, but I’d at least like to be friends with you! Your abilities in the training exercise today were really cool, and-” your rambles were ceased completely by an aggravated grunt.

“Did you not hear a fucking thing I just said?! I’m here to be a hero, not to make fucking friends! As far as you’re concerned, you’re an enemy. Nothing but a stone for me to secure my victory. You’re not fucking special just because of some stupid piece of string!” He yelled, causing you to shrink back.

“I was just trying to help you calm down, you seemed very upset after that green haired kid used his power against you,” you looked at him with worry in your eyes. If anything, your dopey eyes infuriated him more.

Something snapped in Bakugou as he lifted you by the collar, causing you to squirm uncomfortably in the air. His palms smoked against your uniform.

“I’m only gonna say this one more fucking time. Leave. Me. The hell. Alone. Go find someone else to fucking pity you useless bitch,” he released you with a scoff as you fell on your ass.

“Tch. As if the universe sent someone as pathetic as you to be with someone like me,” he scoffed as he turned to walk home, leaving you to tear up in horror at how mean your soulmate was.

Unfortunately for you, that single event triggered a near year long bullying. Constant harassment never stopped following you, whether you pestered Bakugou or not. Harshly bumping into you in the halls, criticising your training techniques unfairly and accidentally totally on purpose spilling his protein shakes on your assignments, making them nearly illegible. Aizawa shook his head at your “clumsiness”, often giving you more laps for undone homework or even berating you in front of your classmates.

You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to tell Aizawa the truth. Something bugged you about how troubled your soulmate was to deliberately cause you such aggro. It wasn’t even stuff that you could really tell a teacher for; criticism for fighting villains? Bumping into you in the halls?

You figured that he needed time to sort out his teenage angst, but the bullying was starting to get to you. The belittling comments made you hyper-aware of mistakes, making you anxious easily. Seeds of doubt sewed themselves deep in your brain, making sleep a troublesome process.

Ochaco and Tsu took note of how badly Bakugou seemed to get under your skin, so they took it upon themselves to arrange a day out for you and the girls in the new cat cafe in the prefecture.

“Y’know, I really don’t understand why you won’t tell Aizawa the real reason why you’re struggling (N/N),” Ochaco looked at you worriedly, petting the small white cat perched in her lap. The other girls murmured into agreement.

“For real, Bakugou treats you like utter shit. I mean, he treats everyone like that but you and Midoriya seem to have it the worst,” Jirou said. You gently petted the one-eyed calico cat on the cat tree next to you.

“I understand what you mean, I really do. Don’t get me wrong, he really pisses me off at times, but sometimes I wonder if he’s okay. Like, it can’t be healthy how angry he is,” you pondered quietly.

“But (Y/N), every time you try to talk to him, he always ignores you or says something really mean. Are you sure there’s nothing deeper going on?” Yaoyorozu asked delicately. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the implication.

“Yeah (N/N)! Do you have some kind of masochistic infatuation with him?” Mina asked devilishly. You shook your head determinedly, mindful of the meowing kitties playing on the cat trees.

“No that’s not it at all!! I just think there’s something a little bit deeper to him!! I don’t like him or anything!!” Your face heated up as Mina’s face finally lit up in realisation.

“Oh. My. God. NO WAY?!?” Mina squealed, hugging you tightly. The girls looked at each other in confusion, before starting to realise one by one. Yaomomo looked at you in slight disgust.

“(N/N). Is it true? Is Bakugou your… soulmate?” She didn’t look very pleased at the realisation. You looked down with heated cheeks as you twiddled your thumbs.

“…yes.”

A plethora of differing emotions scattered across the table. Mina seemed thrilled at the idea of you finding your soulmate; Jirou and Yaomomo seemed disgusted; Ochaco and Tsu seemed pitiful whilst Hagakure… well. You couldn’t tell.

“I know what it looks like. I think that underneath that anger and frustration, there’s a good guy. I don’t want to dismiss him as his soulmate immediately because what if I skip out on the best relationship of my life? I think he is really a sweet guy,” you murmured.

“Babe you’re literally delusional,” Jirou glanced at you.

“I agree with Kyouka. Bakugou clearly wants nothing to do with you. You’re only going to get yourself hurt, and as your friend I hate seeing him being so crude to you,” Yaomomo rubbed your hand gently.

“Mhm! It’s not healthy the way he treats you. Soulmate or not, that’s no excuse to treat you so meanly,” Ochaco angrily pouted. Tsuyu turned to look at you.

“(N/N), we’re just saying this because we care. We’ll support you no matter what you do, but please don’t allow yourself to get hurt moving oceans for a guy who wouldn’t jump over a puddle, ribbit,” Tsuyu said.

“Thanks girls, I really appreciate your advice. I’m gonna leave him alone now I think,” you reply sadly. Yaomomo rubbed your arm gently with a reassuring smile.

“It’s for the best, dear,” she said. And for the best it was.

Although Bakugou was still a pain in the ass, you kept to yourself and your friends. You only bothered with him when absolutely necessary for school, and even then it was just the bare essentials of conversation. You stopped asking him about his day, how his training was coming along and how he found the latest essay.

It unnerved him a bit. He didn’t enjoy being plagued by questions, but now you had left him alone? It was a silence he wasn’t used to. But he demanded you stopped talking, right? So why did he feel so… empty?

@sorrowfulrosebud do not copy, steal or translate my works without permission

[smallpeniscollective]

First Time

Daryl Dixon x Reader (18+)

Summary: (takes place in season 2 on the farm, Daryl and the reader are out on a hunt, and they stumble across an empty cabin, and then they seize an opportunity)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: walkers, sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

*~*~*

It was rare for Daryl to be accompanied on a hunt. He usually moved quickly and worked alone, but this time, she had asked him to take her as well. She had flattered her way into the position with, “You’re just so good at hunting,” and “I want you to teach me, so I can help the group.” She knew exactly what to say to get him to agree to take her out, but what she didn’t know was that he wanted to be alone with her.

It’s not like alone time didn’t exist at the farm, but he was a very private man, and couldn’t ask her to sit with him in front of everyone, or just anyone. But when he came back from the woods yesterday after searching tirelessly for Sophia with a rope of dead squirrels across is back, she approached him.

She was no hunter. She had this insistent natural belief that every single little living creature could have had a family or could feel extreme pain and suffering. She decided it was time to get over this and try to return to her human nature as an animal of the food chain. The squirrels were smaller than her, and the group needed to eat.

She was quiet and graceful in the forest, barely making a sound as she tiptoed over twigs and crunchy leaves. But she still felt a hollow guilt in her chest every time she managed to catch a squirrel. She couldn’t kill it, not after she had looked into its panicked little eyes.

“You do it, Daryl,” she said, giving him the tiny creature who was desperately scratching to get out of her hands. “I can’t kill him, I looked into his eyes.”

“Ya mean kill it. These ain’t people like us, they’re the food that we need to eat. They’re our survival,” he said with his agitated southern drawl.

“Hey, at least I caught it. I may be a bad hunter, but you can’t say I can’t catch,” she retorted, as he took the squirming squirrel from her hand. He quickly snapped its neck, causing her to wince and look away. He scoffed at this.

“Do not call me a pussy right now, Daryl, or I swear to god,” she joked, not even finishing her sentence to let his mind wander about what her meek little self would be capable of doing to him.

They snaked through the woods until they stumbled upon a small cabin with a tin green roof. The little building was eerily quiet, although no quiet was comfortable these days. Daryl went in first, holding up his crossbow to take out any immediate threat and slowly opening the front door in an attempt to be quiet and discreet, but the old door creaked loudly. She followed him closely through every room, almost clipping his heels several times. If it was anyone else, he would have made an annoyed remark about them breathing down his neck, but he didn’t feel annoyed at having her so close. He felt better, like he was keeping her safer.

Once the small space was searched, he sighed, placing his bow gently on the dingy, unstable table in the kitchen. She crouched down to check cabinets for any canned or preserved goods, and he searched the pantry and fridge for any dried goods or bottled beverages. “Y’know,” she said mindlessly, as she rifled through extremely expired or already-opened items, “back in the good days, I would’ve used an abandoned cabin like this to do a lotta devious things.”

“What kinda things?” he asked with a reserved tone that indicated he was much more curious about her statement than he was letting on.

“Well, I was a chronic stoner, abandoned building seshes hit the best, but only when you’re with someone,” she said, smiling to herself as she looked back on the fun she had in her youth. “No fun being by yourself in one of these things.”

He looked at her with a slightly quizzical gaze, as he abandoned his pantry search to stand closer to her. “Didn’t take ya as a druggie,” he huffed in a defensive tone.

He told her very little about Merle, but she remembered how he told her about Merle’s drug habits. Suddenly, she felt guilty about recalling her drug experiences with joy when he had only known it as a destructive force. She closed the cabinet, turning around and standing up to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t like that,” she said quietly with a timid demeanor. “I never did anything hard, I was just a kid with nothing to do.”

“Yeah,” he said curtly, dropping his stare to the dirty floor, clearly getting more defensive about the topic.

Not wanting to drop the conversation, she threw out a last-ditch effort to keep him talking to her. She crossed her arms, rubbing the sides of her upper arms as she expressed, “Hey, thanks for taking me with you on your run... I know we don’t talk a lot, but I enjoy it when we do.”

The tension building in his shoulders dropped and he looked back at her. “I, uh, enjoy it too,” he admitted. For a moment it felt like there was a spark, a hint of something more to come between them. She softly smiled, looking down bashfully before locking eyes with him again. He could see the sparkle in her eyes, but he was never as bold as Merle was when it came to making moves. Hell, Merle would harass women like he got paid to do it. Daryl was forever stuck as the little brother, being put down so much as a kid making him now too shy as an adult to be as confident as his older brother.

She, on the other hand, was always so relaxed around him. She almost never seemed too shy to say what was on her mind. He didn’t know if this came from a new lifestyle of expecting life to end short, or if she had always been this way, but he appreciated her talking to him even when he couldn’t find words to say.

Suddenly, the sight of a walker passed by the kitchen window. The rotting man with a half-gouged face stumbled by the window, oblivious to what was just past the glass shield.

She was facing away from the window, but he saw and reacted immediately, pulling her to him and covering her mouth and with his large hand before she let out a muffled gasp from the unexpected grabbing. He pulled her down the ground with him, below the line of sight through the window. Her panicked eyes locked with his, and he put a finger to his lips, nonverbally queuing her to make no sounds. He gestured towards the window, and she understood that he must’ve seen something that caused him to react.

After a few minutes to make sure the walker was gone, he took his hand off of her mouth, and she realized his body was closer to hers than anyone’s body has ever been. She began to blush, feeling her body growing hotter and adrenaline-induced arousal blooming in her. Being a virgin was something she never talked about; it just never came up in a world where survival was what mattered. And even though survival mattered now, all she could focus on was the pressure of his body weight on top of hers, and his abdomen pressing into her hips.

Daryl knew the walker passed without noticing them or being drawn to the cabin, but he found that he couldn’t lift himself off of her just yet. He could sense her demeanor had shifted and that she wasn’t just nervous now, but flustered. She swallowed the saliva that gathered in her mouth anxiously, giving the most awkward, breathy chuckle before whispering, “I’ve, uh... never been this close to anyone before,” thinking it would be humorous.

He gave an obvious up-and-down before whispering in return, “A pretty thing like you’s never been touched before?”

She went stiff, her mouth forming a flat line before shaking her head to signify that, no, she had never been touched and confirming that, yes, she was a virgin.

He paused for a moment, teetering the border of being respectful and staying silent or offering some sort of fix for her, to help her experience her first time before either of their lives could possibly be cut short by the new rough world’s circumstances. “Y’know...” he quietly stammered, “we could—”

“Yes,” she whispered, cutting him off before he could finish his question. Normally, she would have been painfully shy, but his body already against hers, the rush of the sudden hiding, and how much she undeniably enjoyed his hand over her mouth all lined up to have her needing more. This was the first time she had ever had this rush, and she trusted Daryl with her life.

Truthfully, this wasn’t the first time he had thought about this. One of the only single, pretty girls in their camp? Of course he had thought about this. He never thought he was particularly her type, or that she’d even look his way like that, but in this moment, he was able to put all of those thoughts to the side.

He looked into her eyes deeply, scanning her face for anything that would let him know that he should not take her right here, right now. He found nothing. In fact, the glimmer in her eyes pleaded with him to make a move. He dipped his head down to her, placing his lips on hers with that masculine force that intensified the kiss tenfold.

She gasped from the suddenness of his move, but quickly melted into his touch, creeping her fingers up his sides. As their kiss deepened, his body moved up against hers, and a small whine caught in her throat from the pressure changes. She spread her legs, allowing his body to dip in closer and his hips to meet hers. He could just feel the heat radiating from her clothed loins, causing him to harden in his pants. Feeling the stiffness press against her sent electricity flying all throughout her body and sent anticipatory shivers down her spine. In her pheremone-induced confidence, she removed the first article of clothing, letting go of his hair to reach down and pull her shirt up over her head, momentarily breaking their kiss and revealing her bra. He took his opportunity to latch his lips onto her neck, rubbing his hands all over her exposed torso while sucking hard on the soft skin of her neck. There were definitely going to be marks left, but she didn’t mind.

He grabbed a hold of her hips, grinding his covered erection against the inner seam of her jeans, causing her to gasp from the sensation of her seam being pushed into her. She reached down to unbutton her pants, needing less layers between the grinding, but he stopped her hands. He pulled her pants down the length of her legs for her in a gentlemanly manner, making her feel more confident that he was the right man to do this with for the first time. He couldn’t help but stare at her panties, becoming painfully hard at the sight of the desperate wet patch that was already there.

And there she was, half-naked in all her glory on a dirty kitchen floor in an old abandoned cabin, him still fully dressed. But he wasn’t ready to indulge himself in the pleasure of taking her just yet. She watched in nervous awe as he reached a hand down, grazing his knuckles against her covered slit, the ridges of his knuckles making her hips buck up and eliciting a soft whimper form her. The noise from her reminded him of where they were and what had just happened. With a cautious tone, he whispered, “I’m gon’ need you to keep real quiet for me, darlin’. Wouldn’ wanna attract any walkers.”

She nodded softly, her eyes big and round in a plea for him to continue. His goal was to give her the best first time he could, so he gingerly pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them to the side next to her jeans, scooting himself back so that he could fully see her soaked heat.

He dipped his head below her line of sight, using his tongue to lick a sloppy stripe up the center of her folds, ending with a flick at her sensitive bud. This elicited a moan from her, after which she threw her arm over her mouth to muffle any more noise. He admittedly was not the best at eating pussy, but he did what felt natural in an effort to warm her up for him. He placed his large calloused hands on her thighs, spreading them farther as he softly lapped at her, spreading the wetness from her hole. He could hear her muffled whines as she attempted to remain quiet, which encouraged him to slide his tongue up, hooking onto the little bud, causing her hips to buck. Realizing this was a sensitive spot, he deftly latched his lips around the bud of nerves, sucking softly while occasionally adding a prodding lick up from her entrance. This must have been the right thing to do because it had her grinding her hips up onto his face and gripping his hair with the hand that wasn’t muffling her moans. He moved a hand from her thigh to touch her, feeling her sopping wetness on his fingers. He then slowly and carefully dipped a thick finger into her, making her moan the loudest she had yet.

He lifted his head to say, “Shh, baby, we gotta keep quiet,” before returning his mouth to her heat.

“It just feels so good,” she whispered in the most desperate voice he had ever heard from her. This turned him on more, but his attention returned to her loins, as he began to pump his finger in and out while he resumed his tongue on her sensitive bud. When he added a second finger to help stretch her out before his length did, he could just see what it did to her. She held her legs up, thighs squeezing him with intensity as she felt an unfamiliar tightening in her core. The sensation made her a whining mess, moving her hips in rhythm against his face.

He pulled back, removing his fingers from her warmth, making her whine like a spoiled child in response. “Why’d you stop?” she whispered, and he gave a light chuckle.

“Don’ tell me I’ve spoiled ya, sweetheart,” he joked, leaning back to pull his shirt off. She watched him do this, eyeing his muscular abdomen and letting it excite her further. He unzipped his pants, pushing down his pants and boxers below his hips, finally revealing his throbbing erection. She stared at it like an animal in the zoo that she had never seen before, instinctively reaching out a inquisitive hand to grab hold of it, pulling a grunt from deep in his throat. She ran the tips of her fingers up the length, lightly dancing her fingertips on the head, the sensation causing a drip of pre-cum to leak out, and she swiped it with her thumb, her eyes studying it with intrigue.

He took his length in his hand, and lined it up with her entrance, stroking it up and down her slit a couple of times to gather her wetness on it. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he pushed in, releasing her breath with a sigh. Thank god he had warmed her up first, but even still it hurt a little bit as he pushed all the way in. He stopped moving when he was all the way in, pausing to look in her eyes with a look that conveyed a message of, ‘You ready for this?’

She nodded, rolling her eyes back as he started with a slow pace. His thick arms surrounded her as he held himself above her, watching her face as it changed from slight pain to pleasure. She had never felt such a deep pleasure in her before, her eyes welling with tears of joy as she struggled to keep herself from moaning loudly. The push and pull of his member in her felt like the push and pull of an ocean wave of pleasant tingles, that tightness in her core beginning to return.

When he picked up his pace, letting out his own small grunts, she couldn’t hold her moans back anymore. The sounds of her pleasure sounded like beautiful music to his ears, but then he remembered why she had to stifle them in the first place. He moved a hand to cover her mouth, gripping her jaw a tightly as he continued to thrust. The hand on her mouth turned her on more, letting herself make all of her noises into his hand.

“Baby, yer gonna bring in some walkers if ya keep makin’ those pretty sounds,” he cooed, sounding more gentle than she had ever heard his voice. She nodded, breathing deeply with her nose and hearing the whistle from her nostrils against his hand. The tightening in her body had shifted to a building sensation, as the gliding of his length through her and the danger of being so vulnerable mixed together to create an excitement that she had never been close to feeling before. Every time he thrusted into her, it felt like he was hitting a button that sent sparks all throughout her body, and she could feel all of her pleasure gather in one place as he bent his head down to lay more sloppy wet kisses on her neck.

He kept his rhythm steady, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm her for her first time, but he could feel himself becoming needier, needing more of her enveloped around him, so he pressed harder, deeper. The deeper he hit that spot in her, the closer she was to reaching that peak of pleasure, and soon her nails were digging into his sides. Her moans morphed into high pitched squeals buried beneath his hand, letting him know that she was close.

And she was so close. She felt as her walls uncontrollably tightened around him as her inched towards the edge of her orgasm, and he began thrusting fast and hard, overstimulating her senses and sending her body into a pleasurable shock. She began moving her hips up into his as her body craved more.

And then it happened. Her body hit its peak of stimulation, a surge of indescribable pleasure billowed through her, making her walls clench down so tightly on him that he had to hiss through his teeth to not finish then and there. Hot tears rolled down the sides of her face and she shakily moaned with an open, drooling mouth into his hand. As he continued his hard pounding, the audacious sounds of the wet slapping sent him into a frenzy of desire, speeding up his pace as he neared his own climax. The continuing pleasure had her writhing underneath him, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly and pulling him closer. His hand squeezed her jaw hard, sure to leave some bruising on the edges of her cheeks, yet she still let out gleeful moans as he rode out her orgasm for her. He reached a hard finish, letting out a guttural grunt as his hips stuttered, releasing a hot load into her and tiredly dropping his head into her neck and finally letting go of her mouth.

In a foggy haze of her first time being cock-drunk, she still managed a tiny giggle. He perked his head up, looking at her half-lidded eyes and a slight curl up of his lips. He spoke with a low gravelly tone as he quietly asked, “Not bad for a first time?”

“Not bad? How are people not doing this all the time?” she whispered over-excitedly, evoking a sheepish smile from him.

“C’mon now, we gotta head back,” he reminded her, getting up off of her and extending out a hand to help her up. She shyly took his hand, surprised at how easily he yanked her up off the ground. She would have felt embarrassed about being so undressed, but it turned into a humorous bubble popping up in her when she noticed his square little man-butt before he pulled his boxers and pants back up. But the bubble burst when she saw the old, large scars on his back. Saving that conversation for when they weren’t in a post-coital glow, she looked away and got dressed quietly as he pulled his shirt back on over his head.

They snuck out of the cabin, after only finding an unopened box of saltine crackers and an old warm six-pack of beer to bring back to the group.

“So,” she started, nervously kicking the dirt as she trailed behind Daryl, “did you want this to just be a one time thing, or...?”

“Darlin’, I hope we get to do that all the time,” he teased, throwing her own words back at her.

She smiled to herself as she followed him back to the farm.

[writefightandflightclub]

Monster: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader blurb

Warnings: dub-con / non-con (it’s not actually, and you will see why but it will definitely, 100% read that way so the warning needs to be here.) smut / filth. size kink. use of venom in sexual contexts (worth a substance-use warning as similar effects). bondage. blood kink. pain kink. reader has powers. unreality.

MINORS INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.

Reader descriptions: Miguel’s POV. Reader described heavily as “small” and other related terms. This comparison is relative to him and could therefore apply to a range of body types, but letting you know that it will be less inclusive than my usual fics aim to be and so I’m suggesting it’s (more) geared to a petite!reader.

Author’s note: DO NOT LOOK AT ME. This is a relatively short blurb. It fell out of my head. Pls forgive me.

You hold out your hand, and Miguel swears that he is losing his mind.

It’s so… small. Small like the rest of you. Tiny, even. Compared to him.

“Miguel?” you prompt impatiently, and he finally hands you the apple he’s holding, trying not to black out when your little fingers curl tightly around it.

“Thank you,” you huff, insolently, and the hot fire which slides down his spine when he thinks about checking your tone is almost intolerable. Almost.

There’s definitely something wrong with him. Yeah - something besides the more obvious spider-y shit that’s wrong with him. This is something else; because he definitely should not be almost passing out in the cafeteria. Not while thinking about how your hand is so small and strong and how huge his cock would look if only you curled your palm tightly around it.

He shouldn’t be thinking about this at all - and especially not in the cafeteria queue. His suit does not leave a lot of manoeuvre room to successfully obscure the fact that his blood is rushing south. Dangerously fast.

“Miguel!” You wave your palm in front of his vacant face, and he attempts -vaguely- to regain some composure. “Are you even listening to me?”

He’s not. Not listening, but he’s looking.

Fuck. Look at you in that skintight suit. Look at you.

He could pick you up so easily. String you up so easily in his webbing until you were spread open for him, your limbs groaning with the stretch of it. Breasts jiggling as you struggle against your restraints, the reverberating tension in the rope causing your flesh to ripple and bounce.

God. You would look so tiny if he forced his huge throbbing arousal inside of you. So fragile.

He wants that. To split you on his cock. To fuck you so hard that he breaks you.

Anywhere that he considers putting his dick appeals to him. Stuffing it into your mouth. Making you spit on him and grip him in both of your stupid little hands.

Fuck. You would hug him so fucking tight. It would make him feel so powerful to watch you struggling with the size of him. To know he could do whatever he wanted to you.

He wonders. Wonders if it would feel better to have you squirming and screaming on his ropes…or, whether he’d prefer you a different way.

Whether he’d prefer to graze his fangs down the column of your throat. To inject just enough venom into your neck to keep you perfectly still. Still enough, that he could do whatever he wanted to you without even needing to care whether you liked it.

Without hearing your protests.

Without anything else to focus on except his own pleasure. Of the feeling of him filling you up with more than you can take and pushing your juices out of you until they drip down to coat his balls. Of him fucking you while thinking about how sore you would be by the time he was done with you. By the time he’d finally had enough of you spasming around his length, your face tear-stained and eyes -finally- all glazed and vacant.

God, you’re so fucking small. Small enough that he wonders if he could grab up your whole ass cheek in one handful, his talons biting into your firm yet forgiving flesh. If he could cup you whole cunt and feel it warm against him.

Small enough, that maybe he could wrap you up completely in his webbing. Like a cocoon, almost. Leaving nothing but your face and your tits and your wet holes exposed for him.

Maybe he’d leave you venom-free while he did that. Would let you protest. Would give you plenty to protest about. Would let himself get off to the sound of you sobbing that it’s too much. That it’s too big. That you need him to stop.

Fuck - he doesn’t know if he could. Doesn’t know if he could ever stop once he was finally inside you. Not until your little cunt had squeezed every last drop from him - and even then. Even then, maybe he’d keep going until you were fucked open and dripping several of his loads out of you. Until he was maybe even getting bored of the way he’d feel you clamp down around him again and again, gushing with your release - regardless of whether you wanted to.

Hell. Maybe he’d even leave you there strung up for later. Maybe he’d keep you all for himself and never let you go.

“Miguel?” you ask, this time with concern, and the innocence in your eyes as you look up at him - look up at him because you’re so small, so tiny - makes his balls ache. Makes him think about the ways he could make you gag on him, two of him, three of him, so full of him everywhere over and over and over. “You alright?”

“I need you to meet me later,” he husks. “Alone.”

“Okay…” you place your tiny, pathetic hand on his forearm and god; he can’t take it.

All of his senses are so entirely focussed in on you until you’re practically a pinprick. Until his vision of you is so sharp he thinks he must be looking at you with ten eyes. Until there is nothing else in the room.

Wait…

There…

is no room.

His hands…

His hands are bound, not yours. He’s the one who…

Oh God…

He looks down at his naked, sweat-sheened, love-bitten body, his thick arms pulling back and bound behind his head. His cock is out, huge and hard and glistening - flushed a deep crimson with need. Throbbing so hard it hurts.

“Miguel!” you say again, and this time your voice feels far more… real. “Come back to me, love,” Suddenly he remembers. Remembers where he is.

Remembers what you’re doing to him.

Remembers your venom and the power it holds. Remembers your hallucinogen, pumping in his veins.

“Oh Miguel,” you sing-song, squeezing his aching cock in your hands - your small, perfect hands. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

You straddle him now, nude and perfect and so petite you can barely touch your knees to the floor to either side of him as you spread your cunt over his body. Your own arousal is leaking from you. Shining his length as you glide your folds over the girth of him until his cock jerks up, begging to fill you.

He looks down at the red scratches on his bare chest, and he remembers, a dark, crooked smile bedding down over his features as he delights in you. In the combination of reality and fantasy. In the haze only you can induce. The pleasures only you can draw out of him.

“Do you have a little bit of a size kink, baby?”

“Uh. Uh huh. Yes, ma’am.”

“I can taste it. Tastes good.” He wants to taste you. Wants to kiss you. Thank you - but he cranes his mouth up towards yours - thrusts his hips up to shove against your cunt - and you scold him with a sharp tut of your tongue.

Not yet.

“Alright then, love. Let me indulge you.” You drag your claw down his bared, sweat-sheened chest, over the meat of his pec, leaving a shallow trail of seeping red - like you’re trying to bleed him a new suit. He winces - a sharp intake of air - baring his fangs and straining against his restraints once more to no avail.

“Mmmm,” you hum, the sound fragmenting into multiple echoes of sweet, honeyed syllables as your sugary venom takes effect on him all over again. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s see how big I can make your cock look while it’s inside of me. How about that?”

You sink. Hinge at the hips on top of him to lick along the red stripe of iron tang on his chest. And then… Then you sink down on his length, spearing yourself on him, pushing yourself off his chest -palms smearing red. Throwing your head back and writhing your walls around him as he groans for you.

He knows you’ll be able to taste it. Taste his fantasies on the tip of your tongue, in his blood - and he knows too, that you’ll give him exactly what he wants.

He remembers now. Understands. Remembers how this works; and, just like that - he’s back there. He’s back in the cafeteria.

Your voice is all the way in his head, just like he’s shoved all the way in your cunt. Your voice is in his ear, like a devil’s whisper from over his shoulder, even as he could swear that, at the same time, he’s standing here in the cafeteria. Watching you play the angel in front of him. “Show me your fantasy, Miguel,” you whisper, hot and sweet against the shell of him, and so he does.

He’s here. Standing. Towering over you with his stature. Towering over you, and his mouth curls into a devilish snarl as he looks down at your stupid, small hand on his arm. Oh - he remembers. He remembers how it works now.

Here, he can do exactly what he wants to you. Exactly what he wants without repercussion… and he’d already had some exceptionally good ideas on how to make the most of that.

He tongues a single fang as you look up at him. As you look up, so innocent. “You know what?” he asks, turning you abruptly around and folding you right over the table. Shoving your face into its surface with one hand. Tearing the ass right out of your suit with the other, splitting it open like he’s about to do with you. “Why wait until later, little one?”

It is more fun this way, he decides.

It’s much more fun when you struggle.

It’s okay though.

It’s okay.

He shushes you, even as you scream.

Here; in this space, he is free to be a monster. Doesn’t have to hold it back or push it down any longer. Doesn’t need to feel ashamed.

Here, he gets to make his fantasies come true - and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

When you cry out in pain, Miguel feels monstrous; and he likes it. And, even as you squirm beneath him, he knows, that in reality -in the real reality- you like it too.

After all, you’re even more monstrous than he is.

Speaking of… Miguel feels another sharp, blazing, delicious sting across the expanse of his chest - and he remembers.

Remembers that he’d be happy if you kept him in your web, toying with him like this forever. Or, at least, until he begs you to stop - and maybe not even then.

[testingthewatersss]

Hi! I'm still figuring the difference between messages/inbox tbh but as long as you send in the request I'll get to it. I'm trying to keep all requests anonymous when posted so sometimes I'll message a link to whoever sent it. If it's anonymous I might start replying to the message so the sender is notified (assuming that works)

thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy <;3 (last disclaimer- I'm British so my only context for 1940s America is from movies and anecdotes)

Date Nights Trigger warnings for?nothing v v lighthearted fluff? Bucky Barnes x F reader Oneshot 1500 words fluff & comfort 18+ MDNI

Bucky tells you what your dates would've been like in the 40s.

"I'm tellin' you, Buck" Y/N beams, "if it's got food and candles, it counts as a date night."

Barnes is still tugging at his boots in the door way, looking apologetic as ever, like him being late off a Quin-Jet is something he could've prevented.

Her eyes roll, "It's fine- you text me to let me know you where behind schedule, the pizza has been here for ten minutes, and- you've finally got your boots off-"

He cuts her off with a kiss, dipping her back dramatically like hoping that the corny gesture might add to the romance.

The feeling of her laughter against his lips makes him smile so hard that his cheeks ache, and then they're eating and drinking red wine that is too good to have with stuffed crusts from Albie's.

and that's when his mind wonders again,

to dance halls and evening walks in formal jackets and what it might be like to push her on a rope swing in a pretty sun-dress-

"what are you day dreaming about?" Y/N chuckles, quirking a brow at the pinkness in his cheeks.

"…date nights" is the reply he settles on after a minute, pressing a kiss against her cheek before settling back onto the couch.

"wow" she says, laughing again, "that's impressive even for you, sweetheart, can you even get sweeter than fantasising about date night while you're literally havin' a date night?"

He rolls his eyes, before melting down into her lap. Smiling almost smuggly as she recieves him more than eagerly, discarding her wine glass to card through his hair with her fingers.

"Wait" she says teasingly, "Before you get all this fussin'- the person you were with in this daydream was me wasn't it? because if it was Steve your puppy dog eyes are goin' to be about 12% less effective"

"88% is still pretty good" he says playfully, before shaking his head in response to her mock look of hurt, "of course it was you, darlin' it just that back in my day-"

"Back in my day?" Y/N mimics, beaming down at him like he's the best thing she's ever seen, "Did you really just say that, outloud?"

Her teasing is tempered with unwavering affection, but still it makes him laugh, a true soft chuckle bursting through his chest when he realises how it sounds.

"Still" he murmurs, feigning grouchiness, "goin' on a date meant somethin' different back then, it was more of an event..."

"Oh, yeah?" Y/N presses, seeing the trace of nostalgia in his eyes, "tell me about it?"

He blinks at her, before looking away, genuinely bashful again;

"You don't wanna hear me dronin' on about ancient history, Sugar-"

"Actually" she objects, "After missin' you for 2 days because you've been galivanting across Russia, I think that's exactly what I want."

He paws at his jaw before sighing, surrendering to the arm your holding him by snuggling into your front.

"Well, they didn't usually include this much touchin' for a start"

"Is that a complaint?" Y/N quips, raising a brow in genuine curiosity.

"No- never-" he's quick to tell her, "I just don't really know where to start, doll. It's all real different now."

She just smiles down at him again, letting her thumb brush his temple as his eyes flutter shut.

"What would our first date have been like, d'ya think?" she asks, "and don't just rattle off some Grate-Gatsby story, I know you and Rodgers didn't eat Caviar in tuxedos when you took girls out for the night"

"God" he scoffs dreamily, smile firmly on his face now, "Gatsby was more my ma's era, darlin'… I'd have probably taken you out for a walk first, asked you when I could pick you up and spent a couple of hours gettin' myself ready… I'd have brought flowers, -I might've had to pick them from the garden-" he allows, "-but I'd have brought ya' something, and then I'd knock for ya'…"

"And would I be wearin' one of those pin-up style dresses, victory curls and red lipstick style?"

"No" he snorts, "All the dames back then wore sweat pants"

"You're gettin' sassy in your old age" Y/N is quick to tease, "I meant for a walk… since that's where you said you'd be takin' me… is that the kinda thing ladies got all dolled up for back then?"

He's grinning like a fool as he hums, picturing exactly the kind of thing she might've been wearing.

"It'd probably have been some kind of dress" he allows, shyly at first "somethin' nice but not, not the whole nine yards unless you wanted me to be fightin' all the other men in town away all night."

It's her turn to laugh then, it swims through his head like music, making his chest flutter happily.

"We'd probably spend a while just talkin', darlin', and I'd have asked you for a second date before I took ya' home."

"Is that when you'd have asked me if I had any friends for Steve?"

He chokes on a breath as he realises that's exactly when he'd have done that.

"and I'd have said "sure, but don't be late"… and then, you'd have arrived together at least 10 minutes after we'd arranged, but- you'd have been so charmin' that I wouldn't have minded one bit."

"Maybe" he murmurs, not wanting to tell her just how well she's got him figured out.

"And where would this double date be?"

"Probably dancing" he says surely, "I got tired of trying to take girls to the pictures with Rodgers. He could never stay out of trouble."

"He still hasn't figured that out"

He grins again, eyes still shut but as her hands go back to soothing his muscles, she notices that they're definitely relaxing.

"You'd have been more dressed up for dancing- but so would I, it'd be full uniform, sugar" he murmurs, "and you might've even found some stocking with seams if you'd thought I was worth the trouble…"

"Oh, you're definitely worth the trouble" she whispers, loving the dreamy quality his voice has taken on, it seems so sweet, how content he is just talking about all this, "I'd have done my hair too, and put on that lipstick"

He smiles at her description, picturing it so vividly in his mind that he could reach out and touch her lips and his fingers would come away red.

"And my pretty friend would be takin' care of Steve…" she tells him decisively, "so what would we be doing?"

"I'd get us drinks, doll…" he says, "the band would be playing, not through speakers like now, but they'd have a singer, and a whole set up, we'd ditch our glasses and I'd ask you to dance… there were always so many people there, sugar, the room was so warm- and we'd be laughin' and I'd pretend that I didn't… but if it was you in my arms I'd have forgotten all about Steve by the time the music stopped."

The fingers in his hair are like magic, drawing every facet of tension from his body as she untangles the strands with ease. He hadn't even notice how tense he'd been before. The mission had been quick and easy and without complication until the end, when Tony's "un-freezable" engine had frozen, needing 30 minutes to warm back up before they could head home. He'd been wracked with guilt for the entire flight, hating having to tell you he was going to be late for date night. The date night he'd been looking forward too all week.

"I'd have taken you for a bite on the way back to your place" he continues, clinging to the fantasy like a blanket in the cold, "I'd have wanted more time with ya'- so I'd have insisted on a diner instead of a hot-dog stand or somethin'… I wouldn't have let you drink to much, we'd have gotten cokes in the glass bottles- I swear, it tasted so much better than it does now, even with the rationing-"

"Is that when I'd steal your hat and put it on over my pretty curled hair?" she asks cheekily.

"hat?" he asks, opening his eyes to look at her curiously,

"You said you'd be in uniform- I've seen the pictures."

"Well, yeah, but-"He blinks, still not understanding "Why would you take it, doll?"

"Isn't it like cowboys?" Y/N presses warmly, still carding through his hair

"Cowboys?" Bucky echoes, confused.

"Mhmm" she hums in confirmation, "plus, if I ran away with your hat, you'd definitely follow me home wouldn't ya?"

"I'd have walked you home anyway, m-maybe even kissed ya' at the door if I was feelin' brave" he stammers, still caught up in the mental image of the most beautiful girl in the world wearing an outfit that would've put Marilyn Monroe to shame and his hat.

"Well, yeah" she agrees, "but this way you'd have to chase me inside."

Suddenly, a flush fills his cheeks as the imagined dress vanishes, leaving him with a fantasy that does more than make his face hot.

"It's your birthday in March" Y/N says coolly, "I'll see what I can do".

Masterlist