#i made that comment in the tags out of frustration and wasn’t actually using the tags on a tumblr post to lobby for a two state solution man
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my family is literally from meckpomm man. didn’t phrase it well but that was very much intended as a joke. i don’t think that any wall around any part of any country is helpful to any part of its society.
i do need to point out that you know fuck all about me and have made some very big assumptions, who says i vote for the alteingesessenen?? and i know how these mechanisms work because i’ve seen them work in my own family, and i still think you have the responsibility to actually learn what the platform you’re supporting is trying to achieve. i understand the mechanisms that the afd is using and that still doesn’t excuse people from voting for them.
and i know it’s happening in other countries and in this one, and the joke i made in the tags had nothing to do with the fucking BIP, it’s not about money, it’s about people in my family thinking people like me don’t deserve to be alive because of the shit the afd is using to manipulate them. i didn’t phrase the joke well and it’s not a solution to anything to build a wall but don’t fucking talk down to me like i don’t understand what is happening in this country. trust me, i am extremely aware.
Something that's sweet about German is when you introduce yourself, you can say you're The [Name]. Like you're the main one. The Ambassador of your name.
Like, hi, I am the Felix. The Ultimate Felix. The Felix of All Felix.
#don’t act like you’re the only person with insight on this site man#and you getting this defensive isn’t helpful to anything either#i get where you’re coming from i do#just…whatever man#i made that comment in the tags out of frustration and wasn’t actually using the tags on a tumblr post to lobby for a two state solution man#i’m just tired of this shit
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hungry for life - MV1 (18+) ༄˖°.🪐.ೃ࿔*:・
pairing: max verstappen x female!reader
summary: it could've been a dream trip. if it hadn't been for the nightmare of the company. (also i didn't proofread i'm sorry)
tags: enemies to lovers, smut, lots of smut, filthy really, p in v, fingering, reader swallows, idk what to say.
word count: 5.2k
MINORS DNI!!!
Monet’s Water Lilies occupied the entire room, listening to your conversation intently.
“It isn’t that big of a deal” you friend said, whispering and pointing to the painting as if she was commenting on it.
Your gaze remained on the careful brushstrokes, head tilted as you replied, “Easy for you to say. I mean, seriously? Max?” your hand raised to a specific part of the painting that really wasn’t as impressive up close as it probably was from afar - but there was no other way to have this conversation.
“You’re in Paris, looking at a Monet, with your best friend” she continued, a hint of a smile in her tone of voice. Her amusement only frustrated you more as she walked a few steps to the right, trying to inspect another part of the mesmerizing painting.
“And my worst enemy” you rolled your eyes as you followed her. “It’s not fair. When you said it would be you, your boyfriend and a friend of his, I didn’t expect this. I was thinking more of a double date.”
She looked at you, shrugging, causing her beautiful hair to bounce with her. “It can still be” she joked, to which you could only reply by turning your back to her - and consequently, Monet himself, muttering a ‘fuck you’ to her giggling frame and to the lilies who stood motionless in the still water.
You stood, alone, in front of Sam Francis’s In Lovely Blueness. You felt unlovely blue yourself, though you knew you couldn’t let this ruin a dream trip for you. Your excitement might have died down the minute you met Max at the airport and put two and two together, but you were sure it was mutual, which did make things better. At least he wasn’t particularly amused himself, falling for the exact same trap you fell into.
As if manifested by your own thoughts, his frame appeared on the corner of your eye, big eyelashes adorning his eyes as he stared ahead, almost as if he had no intention of acknowledging you whatsoever. “This is inspired in a poem by Hölderlin. It has the same name and everything. In Lieblicher Bläue. It’s a representation of-” he started, shocking you at first but then angering you just as well.
“I am an art major. I don’t need you to explain this to me” you spat, a fake smile adorning your lips as he looked at you, your annoyance, and chuckled. It was brave of him, you had to admit - to intentionally go out of his way to annoy you by explaining something you were sure he knew you knew.
Crossing his arms across his chest, his head slightly tipped to the side, he admired how easy it was to get under your skin. He wanted to be nice, to engage in a conversation and try to achieve some type of neutral ground, but he found it impossible to do so. “Since you know so much, why don’t you guide us?”
The comment came out aggressive and petty, which wasn’t particularly intentional but he also hadn’t made any effort to hide what he felt towards you anymore. You stepped closer to him. It surprised him, how daring you were all of a sudden, but also how much you actually seemed to dislike him, to the point where this was something you did publicly, unashamedly.
“You want me to guide you?” you asked, whispering while looking up at him. You were smaller than him, his frame towering over you even unintentionally, but that factor didn’t stop you.
“Sure” he said, swallowing dryly, jaw clenching as the tension between you both rose. The red on the painting seemed to stand out even more and spread on the corner of his vision, inundating the whole painting.
“Okay” you replied, taking two steps back away from him, opening the distance between your bodies, carrying the red color with you as the painting seemed to fill with blue again. But not for long, for you walked and looked at him as if urging him to follow, which he did, curiosity winning against irritation.
After a couple of steps, you reached the end of a hallway, secluded and stripped of any painting, walls too bare, contrasting with the previous setting.
He was confused. He really didn’t know what you would do next, though this whole scenario just proved you were just as childish about your feelings as he was. “And, to your left you have the exit sign, which will take you right where you belong” you said, moving your arms like a museum guide, overly cartoon-ish on purpose, knowing it would only annoy him more.
“You’re such a child” Max said. Indignation wasn’t something he felt often, yet this time he felt it appropriate. But he was also thankful - thankful that his attempt at being nice didn’t work, for he did not have to pretend to like you for a week when he absolutely did not. “I tried, at least.”
At this, you could only gasp in surprise at his courage to make such a statement. “You tried? By mansplaining a painting? Oh, that's new!” it was almost funny how you two were whispering in shots, or shouting through whispers, the empty hallway echoing your words as if to emphasize them.
“It’s more than what you’ve done so far! I’m not the one walking around looking all bitter and bratty.”
You stood, motionless, looking at him. His green eyes fixated on yours and burned as if they were scorching red, and as much as you wanted to lash out even more at him, you figured walking away was the best solution. Once again, turning your back on someone in Paris. It had to be done.
“Oh, yeah, walk away. Good luck doing that at the hotel” Max said, the comment a nail in your coffin, a way to affirm that yes, he had won, yes he was right, and the points had been made - you were to avoid each other at all times.
You, however, stopped. His last words echoed in your head. What did he mean, the hotel? The moment you closed the door to your room and he closed the door to his, you two would be out of each other’s sight. So what did he mean by that? That he would annoy you further, being noisy, screaming, to the point where you couldn’t sleep? You were about to ask when you decided that would admit some sort of defeat - asking someone to clarify a point you hadn’t understood in an argument seemed weak, frail and ridiculous to you, so you kept walking, desperate to find your friend again.
“No,” you said when the room card was handed to you. “Fuck no” you kept going, your best friend’s hand raised towards you as she tried to contain a hint of a smile.
Now you understood Max’s comment. Now you were angrier than ever.
Why did you let your friend handle the hotel reservations? Because you trusted her good judgment. Which was bad judgment from your part, apparently, as she reserved two rooms - one for her and her boyfriend, and one for the friends they brought - you and Max.
“It has TWO beds” she tried convincing you, as Max had already gone up angrily, snatching the card swiftly without saying a word. “I wouldn’t put you two in a king sized bed. I am not crazy” she kept going.
The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded.
Max prided himself on his fast insticts and reactions to any unforseen events that might come his way. It was probably one of his best traits, one he always mentioned when asked about his favorite psychological aspect of himself.
But all that was put into question as he stood motionless in the middle of the hotel bedroom, towel wrapped lowly around his waist as the air conditioning hit his bare back and he heard the door click open.
He stood in the same place as you closed the door behind you and ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled. He had those brief seconds of you unaware of his presence to hide in the bathroom and get dressed quickly, or lay underneath the covers discreetly. Anything at all.
But he had no time to make a decision as your eyes met his, panic written across his green irises.
You prided yourself on your fast insticts and reactions to any unforeseen events that might come your way. It was probably one of your best traits, one you always mentioned when asked about your favorite psychological aspect.
But all that was put into question when you opened the door to the hotel room and saw a Max's frozen frame, towel wrapped lowly - too lowly, you thought - around his waist, swallowing hard as droplets of water ran across his bare skin.
No thoughts crossed your mind before you cursed, a hard "for fuck's sake" escaping your lips from accumulated stress over the events of the past 24 hours.
This was not how you wanted your trip to go. This was not what you had planned. It wasn't just sleeping in two separate beds.
This proved it clearly.
During this time, Max's brain found the opportunity to adapt to the situation, adopting an arrogant attitude that contrasted from his initial shock.
"Come on, I'm not fucking naked" he said as he turned his back to you, heading to the bathroom.
"You are underneath that towel" you pointed out, starting to follow him before stopping yourself, realizing it was best not to do it. "I mean, you knew I was coming"
You heard him chuckle - really, he made sure you would - and his head and bare shoulder showed up from behind the open door. "Yes. Hence the towel. Otherwise I'd be naked. Which I'm not. Don't be such a child."
You could only throw a middle finger at him in response - one that he found gave him the victory, the upper hand. One that signified the discussion was over and he was right.
He grinned to himself, closing the door as he undid the towel around his waist in order to put on his underwear and a t-shirt.
Max's hand reached for the small hanger where it was placed and his fingers wrapped around nothing. He looked at the empty hanger and then at the floor, completely empty of what he needed the most in that very moment - his boxers.
"Shit. Shit. Shit Shit" he cursed, looking around for an answer. He knew his only choice was to ask you to bring them to him, but he only knew it cost him that final victory he enjoyed so much, his ego and pride mixing with each other to create a selfishness that surprised even him sometimes.
You heard your name being called out from the bathroom. At first you thought you had imagined it, like in horror movies where it seems to be coming from everywhere, but when it sounded again you knew that wasn't the case, though it was equally as terrifying.
You jumped from your bed and went over to the bathroom, ear pressed against the door in search of a sign of danger.
"...Yes?" you asked.
"Can you bring me a pair of boxers? They're in my suitcase. That is if you don't want to see me naked for four seconds while I get them myself."
You groaned loud enough for him to hear, your steps heavier than usual so he could notice your discontentment even if he couldn't see it.
Walking over to his suitcase, you opened its zipper almost carelessly, searching for a pair of underwear in the midst of the collection of same colored t shirts and same fit jeans.
Max was walking around the bathroom like a mad man, realizing how ridiculous this situation was, and how ridiculous it was that he had accepted it without asking who his company would be first. Maybe this was a lesson, yes, from the ghost of vacations future warning him about being careful who to trust, or to spread kindness, or something.
Before he could dive deeper into thoughts of madness, a knock sounded on the door. He grabbed the towel quickly to cover himself, although he did not bother wrapping it around him. He was not planning on opening the door entirely, not after the scene you caused.
As he opened, he saw an outstretched hand - yours - holding a pair of underwear. The fabric dangled in your pointer finger as if it was made of a burning material that you needed to get rid off, and fast.
He grabbed that from you, but as he was closing the door, your arm remained in place.
"I'm childish but you brought like two packs of condoms for this trip?" you said accusingly, and he could hear your smirk, as if you finally had something to hit him with.
"Don't flatter yourself, I didn't know I'd end up with you" he said as he pulled his boxers up and opened the door once again. "Is this less offensive than the towel?"
He was close - closer than you had expected - and though he hid his own surprise at seeing you at the doorframe, he couldn't deny that he didn't exactly measure the consequences of not checking where exactly you were before opening the door so fast.
His chest was close to yours, so close part of him almost felt as if you were touching, the proximity making him feel unbelievably taller than you, though he was sure the difference couldn't be that big.
You tried not to stare. Really, you were trying really hard. But he was so close to you he occupied your entire line of vision, his pale skin appearing so smooth in front of yours, contrasting with the dark color of his underwear - that you unconsciously had picked.
He towered over you, head low so he could look at you in the eyes, though the view wasn't particularly bad from up there. Your pajama top was loose - too loose - in your frame and your shorts were the very definition of the word.
"You wanting to sleep with me would be an insult" you said, moving away from the doorframe so he could pass, though he didn't move, merely crossed his arms across his chest, muscles tensing slightly at that. "And sure. It's an improvement" you continued, staring him up and down - taking his frame in but disguising the act as disdain.
Max's head leaned to the right, a smirk growing on his lips as he realized he got you for a second time. Nonchalantly, eyebrows raised, he decided to act.
"That's not what you said a year ago." There. He had you. And while before this bickering came from a place of anger and hatred, he was growing increasingly more amused at how you matched his own pace.
"Yeah, but that was before you opened your mouth" you retorted, focusing hard - too hard - on his face and not on his body, though it did not help either. His hair was messy and slightly damp from the shower, and his stubble had grown in a way you could only describe as attractive - not perfectly shaved but not entirely messy either.
He bit his lip then, mostly because he knew what to say to you after your words and was trying not to smile. Also because you had admitted to feeling attracted to him, even if only physically, which added to his confidence as he stared at you and ran his eyes down your body. "What's wrong with my mouth?"
You were dumbfounded for a few seconds, mouth opened at the ridiculousness of his comment, what it implied and the line it had crossed. "You're such a piece of shit" you said, while his grin grew to his eyes.
"You want me" he sounded so matter of factly, as if he had commented on the weather or said the sky was blue.
"I hate you."
"Never said you didn't" Max took a step forward towards you, and you found yourself unable to walk away. Something about his deviance pulled you in, and part of your brain told you you could leave, though another tried to convince you you were only staying because this was your room, after all.
"Then how could I possibly want you?" you asked, though it was more directed at yourself than at him this time.
He looked away then, as if the answer was obvious, his body moving closer to you but never touching you, both decreasing and increasing the distance between the both of you.
"You want me but I'm a piece of shit. And that's why you hate me. Because you know, deep down, you still want me to fuck you" as he said this, he moved away, almost as if the conversation had never happened, though it had, just now.
"I don't want you anywhere near me" you tried to sound assertive but part of your voice had failed by how taken aback you were, still wondering if you had imagined his words.
He stopped and turned to you once again, battling his own brain on whether or not he should push you a bit further.
"Define near" he said, as he walked closely towards you, like a predator slowly approaching its prey, defying them.
Your chest rose and fell as he moved, and you found yourself unable to tell him that that was near enough, mostly because it wasn't, not even close.
The back of your legs hit the bed - his bed - and you fell backwards, sitting on it as he moved as close as he could towards you. "Is this near for you?" he asked, though his tone had changed into something darker, raspier and more filled with lust than flirt.
You swallowed, refusing to break eye contact, aware of how you looking up at him provided a view for himself as well.
"Who wants who now, huh?" you asked teasingly, a smile spread across your lips as you noticed his body tensing up - with a bit of anger but maybe a bit of arousal too.
"Is this wanting you?" he asked back, finding your language had moved from insult to rhetoric, questions that needn't answer - not when he could see your eyes shining as they looked up at you from your eyelashes, not as he saw you crossing your legs despite your attempts at discreetness.
You shrugged at his question, not wanting to back down on your claim but also not wanting to give him the chance to refute it.
His hand cupped your face with firmness, holding your stare as he lowered himself towards you, bringing his lips close to yours, so close you felt his skin brushing against yours although he broke away before you could indulge in his initiative.
"What about this?" he asked, testing you now, though he knew the answer himself, felt it in his body as his boxers felt tight against his erection.
"I'm still unsure" you replied, and as if awaiting for that sign to keep going, Max exhaled and ran his hands through your bare thighs, pinching softly at them, causing you to hiss and giggle from his contact.
"Do I have to keep asking?" it was his time now to look up at you, something close to desperation rubbing at him as he knelt between your legs.
"Not if you admit it" you leaned to kiss him, to - admittedly - give him some kind of upper hand, though you weren't sure if you were playing anymore, not as his tongue hungrily explored your mouth, so desperate it was almost sloppy yet so warm and arousing and fulfilling.
"Fucking hell you're stubborn" he managed to let out during the brief instances where you weren't pulling his neck towards you, making sure his lips remained on yours.
His body moved on top of yours as you laid down in his bed, his hips pressing against yours as you felt his cock against you, a moan escaping your lips and a sigh leaving his at the contact.
"Is this, huh?" he asked again, mouth now moving to your neck, kissing it so lightly you shivered, only to bite you afterwards, the sensations overwhelming you with need for him.
Your body felt hot, burning intensely; and Max's body against yours only fueled that, his voice making you feel more than you wanted to admit even to yourself.
You wanted him to feel like you were feeling in that moment - unaware he was already as on the edge of completely losing himself as you were. So you held his hand with yours and brought it in between your legs, allowing him to get his response.
Max had to steady himself. Really, part of his brain froze and only his body worked, mouth watering as he felt how wet you were, mind going completely foggy at the fact that you had done it, at how hot what your simple gesture had been - at how strongly he reacted to it.
His cock was so tight in his boxers it felt almost painful, especially when he knew how comfortable he could be, inside you, feeling your entire body react to him and him alone.
However, he craved to drive you mad as well, convinced you would probably lose your minds together in that hotel room. "Use your words" he said, pulling your shorts down in order to get better access to you.
His fingers teased you gently, brushing over your entrance and pulling away just as you were ready to take them. "Tell me, is this wanting you?" he insisted, his voice breathy and hoarse.
You wished you could answer, could say more than his name which came across as a whine for more of him inside you. It took all your strength to focus, on winning, on seeing him crumble before your eyes, losing his composure which was so so close to fall apart.
You bit your lip while staring at his eyes - once so bright but now so dark, so filled with something you hadn't seen in him before - and took him completely by surprise as you ran your hand across his erection through the fabric of his underwear.
Max closed his eyes and his eyebrows were now close together in an almost frown. "Fuck" were the words he let out as he dropped his head.
"Admit it" you demanded, not only because you wanted to win but because you couldn't wait any longer - you felt empty, his teasing frustrating you to no end.
Without warning, his fingers dipped inside you, filling that emptiness, even if just slightly. He moved them painfully slowly, savoring every inch of your moans as you kept your hand on his hard cock.
You could feel its length and thickness, making your mouth water at the mere thought of having it inside you. You started moving your hips against his fingers, craving more of the pleasure, more of him.
Max was just observing you at that point, how desperate you were for him, how beautiful you looked with flushed cheeks and swollen lips with barely anything being done to you yet.
"I would never admit something like that" his words contrasted so much with his thoughts, but he knew one fed the other both for you and him, this back and forth the main reason why you both felt an incessant pull towards one another.
"You're ridiculous" you managed to reply, though the words came out muffled and confusing, earning you a chuckle in response.
"You're being fucked stupid and I'm ridiculous?" he asked, grinning as he used a hand to removed his boxers, freeing his erection. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, the sheer anticipation of what was to come, at the opportunity to having him buried inside you.
However, letting him win this easily wasn't something you were willing to do - and though your mind was cloudy and your judgment blurred, you stood on your elbows, face almost touching his. Your hand caressed his tensed arm which kept its movement inside you, and he couldn't help but look at your contact.
You tilted your head, biting your lip as you stared at his face - the desperate attempt at remaining composed, the rosy cheeks and disheveled hair, lips wet and eyes so dark they looked almost black.
"Who's stupid now?" you asked, hot breath against his neck. He could hide many things, but he couldn't control the goosebumps spreading across his entire body, he couldn't hide the way his shoulders tensed even more, how his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed.
This was thrilling. Maybe too thrilling, if such thing existed. He thought of the painting, of the colours spread across the canvas and somehow, in that moment, that seemed to increase every emotion he was feeling, and he had to close his eyes to control himself and steady his breath.
He had to keep it going. He knew he had to - he knew this was precisely what he wanted, to drive you insane, to keep the tension running across both of you until one exploded.
So he removed his hand from where it was - so comfortable, so hard inside you - and he could see you pout slightly before returning to your previous cold attitude. "You want me to stop, I'll stop" he said, climbing fully on top of the bed, both hands on either side of your head, hovering above you.
"I never said that" you bit back, though it was hard to focus as he started leaving trails of kisses on your neck, going down to your chest, and on your navel, biting your shirt and pulling it - removing the last layer of clothing you possessed.
"Then what do you want?" he asked, face in between your thighs, just above where you wanted him to be buried. Max's grin didn't hide the fact that he knew exactly the answer to this - but, just like you, he was stubborn, loving to hear the words escape your lips, to know that you wanted him to ruin you completely.
His hand now caressed your thigh, fingers softly moving up and down, drawing invisible nothings on your skin.
You fought against your will to just say it, although you wanted to give it up and just admit it. As if reading your thoughts, his eyes pierced yours with amusement as his cheek rested against your thigh, stubble scratching your skin pleasurably. "We don't have all night, sweetheart" he whispered.
The nickname caused your heart to race, but what came out of your mouth was a scoff, arrogance still coating your actual feelings despite the situation you were both in. "You're just as desperate as I am" you told him, lifting your right leg to caress his bag with your foot.
"Desperate for what, hm?" he asked, biting the inside of your thigh as he climbed back up, facing you.
"To fuck me" you finally replied, knowing it was less of an admition and more of a dare.
"Is that what you want me to do? To fuck you?" the question was rhetorical, almost mocking, but at that moment you didn't quite care. Not when the tip of his cock rubbed against you, not when he tried so hard to steady his breath.
You could only nod, carnal insticts getting the best out of you. That was all he needed to let himself go, to let go of all restraints previously holding him back - if there were any.
He sinked inside you slowly, as if to prolong your pain and your pleasure simultaneously, savoring your reactions - your whine of pleasure, your closed eyes and teeth biting your lip, your eyebrows furrowed. You felt and looked so good it took all of his strength to focus on being the stronger, composed person in the room - something he never struggled this hard to achieve.
He dropped his head low, his forehead against yours as he steadied himself. "Fuck" he managed to say, along with a loud exhale. "You feel so fucking good" he continued, words leaving his mouth almost impulsively.
"Then don't stop, Max" you demanded, almost aggressively, as your body ached for more of him.
He pulled himself almost fully out and slammed back inside you, harder now, making you let out a loud whine - one which you rapidly covered by placing your hands over your mouth.
He kept going, hips slamming against yours with a steady rhythm as you uhmed in pleasure, eyes teary already as they rolled to the back of your head.
He wanted to hear you. In fact, he wanted to know others could hear you, hear how good he was making you feel, hear how his cock drove you absolutely insane. With an assertive movement, his hand grabbed yours and pulled it away from your mouth, then held your cheeks tightly as he made you look at him.
"Don't cover your mouth" he ordered, hungrily, feeling you tighten around him as he said it. "Let everyone hear how well you take it" he continued, speeding up his pace and laying on top of you as you wrapped your hands around his waist, caging him.
"F-fuck, Max" you started, unable to resist much longer, feeling his hot body against yours, your hands pulling his hair as he moved almost animalistically, so focused on your sounds he could only get off to them.
"You sound so pretty" Max growled, close to exploding as well. "So fucking hot" he continued, and you had to bury your teeth in his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming - all you could let out was his name as you felt him inside you, and his hips rolled against you, unmatched amounts of pleasure running through you.
"I'm so close, Max, I'm so close" you said, not realizing how often his name was being uttered by you, how it seemed like one of the few words you had left to say.
Driven to a state of total lack of control, Max let moans escape his own lips, his animal vulnerability resulting in your own orgasm.
Feelings you tighten and pulsing around his cock was the tipping point for him, as his body shuddered, pulling himself out of you as fast as he could.
“Open your mouth” he said, gesturing at you to sit back. You did as he demanded, still drunk from your orgasm, still completely at his mercy, and he came finally, warm come filling your mouth.
The view was Max’s dream come true - your mouth wide open and filled with him, so obediently taking his orders and so beautifully contrasting with your previous attitude.
“Now swallow” he said, tapping your cheeks slightly with his hand as you closed your mouth and did as he said, the slightly salty flavour filling your tastebuds.
You laid down on his bed, exhausted and completely fulfilled, while also dizzy with the amount of emotions running through your head. You closed your eyes, but felt and heard him laying down next to you, his arm brushing yours shyly now.
“Was that close enough?” he asked.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1blr#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fandom#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#f1 smut#formula 1 smut
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pairing. chenle x reader
synopsis. you would have never guessed who'd be the one to stop the tears from falling when you flunked your finals
genre. academic rivals, mainly comfort with sprinkles of fluff, no pronouns are used for reader, lmk if i missed anything!
wc. 1.3k words
notes. i love chenle. that's it. that's the post. (someone hold me back from all of those pictures he posted on ig recently for tds... im no longer sane....) im also not sure why tags aren't working for me but i have given up so here we are!! likes and feedback are highly appreciated!
m.list
being competitive was something that came to you naturally—striving to excel in everything you do, yet it was clear academics grasped the highest regard. you’ve held onto the idea that hard work always leads to success, but no matter how much effort you put in, there’s always been one person standing right there beside you—or ahead of you, rather.
zhong chenle. he was sharp, quick-witted, and never missed the chance to land a smirk when he bested you in an exam.
to you, chenle wasn’t just competition, he was the one you so desperately wanted to surpass as if that alone would prove your worth, the one who always made you question your capabilities in the dead of the night when the silence engulfing your room was almost deafening. so when your final exam results were returned and you saw a grade much lower than you anticipated, the disappointment sank in your chest like a heavy weight.
from the sullen look on your face alone, rumors were quick to spread that one of the top students of your batch received a low grade. you’d hear whispers shared around the room and could only clench your exam papers underneath your desk to conceal your frustrations.
a silent scoff escapes under your breath. the same people who sucked up to you for homework answers when they forgot to do it themselves were now the ones pointing daggers at you with their murmurs.
couldn’t they even try to be a little discreet with their gossip? have they got no ounce of shame?
and despite your thoughts of cursing them all, your lips refused to actually speak your mind. you plaster on a brave face throughout the day, dodging the thinly veiled comments from your classmates, but the pressure continues to gnaw at you and by the time you reach your usual quiet spot in the library, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. the tears you’ve been suppressing spill over, hot and unchecked, as you stare down at the test paper in your lap—now littered with wet patches and crumpled edges.
you don’t expect anyone to find you here, but then the sound of footsteps becomes too loud to deny, and you quickly wipe at your eyes, hoping to regain composure before whoever it is sees you in this state. you glance up, and for some reason it just had to be him standing in front of you, not with the smug expression you’ve come to expect, but with something softer, something that catches you completely off guard.
“are you… okay?” chenle’s voice is tentative, unsure, like he’s not used to asking the question. and you can tell, even in his hesitation, that this isn’t a question he’s asking out of obligation, but concern.
you want to say something sharp, something to push him away. after all, why should you let him see you like this—vulnerable, defeated? but the words catch in your throat. the only thing you can manage is a stiff nod, though even that feels like a lie. chenle doesn’t press further. instead, he takes a cautious step closer, then another, until he’s sitting beside you, a quiet but solid presence at your side.
the silence between you is thick, weighted by everything that’s unsaid, but for some reason, it’s not uncomfortable. you sense chenle watching you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as if he’s seeing something new in you. then, gently, so gently you almost don’t believe it’s happening, his hand lifts, and his fingers brush against your cheek, wiping away the tears that have clung to your skin. the warmth of his touch lingers, soft and careful, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter if he’s not delicate enough.
“it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice steady, soothing in a way that makes your chest tighten. “you don’t have to hold it in. just… let it out.”
it’s such a simple thing, but the way he says it—soft, sincere, as if he’s offering you a lifeline—breaks something inside of you. the tears fall harder, faster, no longer restrained, and for the first time, you don’t feel ashamed for crying in front of him. there’s no judgment in his gaze, no pity—just an understanding that feels so foreign coming from the person you’ve always considered your rival.
he stays silent, watching you, but not with the cold, competitive eyes you’re used to. there’s something different there now—an openness, a vulnerability that mirrors your own. when you glance up at him, his expression is soft, almost tender, and it makes your heart stutter in confusion. he’s never looked at you like this before.
“why are you here?” you finally ask, your voice raw from crying. “shouldn’t you be… laughing at me or something? isn’t that what rivals do?”
chenle lets out a soft laugh, but there’s no trace of mockery in it. it’s a warm sound, the kind that wraps around you like a blanket on a cold day. “i guess that’s what you think of me, huh?” he says, his eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement. “but i’m not here to make fun of you. you’re upset. and believe it or not, i don’t like seeing you like this.”
his words throw you completely off balance. you’ve spent so long painting him in one color—seeing him as nothing more than competition—that this softer, more compassionate side of him feels like uncharted territory.
you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything at all. the quiet stretches between you, but it’s not awkward. in fact, it feels strangely comforting, like a ceasefire between two soldiers who’ve spent years fighting on opposite sides of the battlefield.
chenle shifts beside you, his gaze dropping to the crumpled piece of paper still clenched in your hand. his voice drops to a more serious tone. “i heard what people were saying today. about your grade.” he pauses, as if carefully choosing his next words. “they shouldn’t judge you. i bet your score is still higher than most of theirs. and even if it wasn’t… it’s none of their damn business.” his words touch you more than expected, and you’re not sure if it's because you’re still feeling sensitive.
it’s as if he’s speaking from experience, like he knows exactly what it feels like to be in your shoes, and for a moment, the reality of your rivalry seems to fade, replaced by the stark realization that chenle is probably the one who understands you the most in this situation. he knows the pressure, the expectations, and even the crushing weight of failure.
and that realization brings a fresh wave of guilt crashing over you. you’ve spent so much time resenting him, seeing him as the enemy, that you never stopped to consider that maybe he was fighting the same battles you were. the tears welled up again, but this time they’re not for your fallen grades—they’re for the way you’ve treated him, for the assumptions you’ve made about him.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely audible through your choked sobs. “i’ve been so awful to you…”
chenle’s hand brushes against your cheek again, this time a little firmer, more reassuring. “hey,” he says softly, his thumb wiping away another tear that slipped past, “we’ve both been pretty awful to each other, don’t you think? it’s not just you.”
his chuckle returns, and you can’t help but look up at him, startled by the sound. his eyes are crinkled again, and there’s something so genuine in the way he’s looking at you that it makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand. “besides,” he adds with a grin, “i didn’t know you could cry so cutely. who knew, huh?”
your face burns with embarrassment, and you quickly swipe at your eyes, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “don’t say things like that,” you mumble, though you can’t quite hide the small smile tugging at your lips.
“got you to laugh though?” chenle points out with a snicker, but this time it feels different—lighter, as if the weight of years of rivalry is starting to lift. “let’s call it even,” he says, his tone playful but sincere. “you don’t have to feel guilty anymore. we’re both here, right? so, no more holding grudges. deal?”
you nod slowly, still feeling a bit shaky, but there’s a sense of relief settling in your chest. maybe things between you and chenle weren’t so black and white as you had thought.
#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#chenle#chenle fluff#chenle angst#nct imagines#nct x reader#nct dream imagines#nct dream x reader#nct drabbles#nct dream drabbles
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hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????
black velvet
genre : smut
word count : 1227
tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it
from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”
a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x
‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.
While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.
“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.
“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”
You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.
“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”
“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.
No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.
Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.
My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.
“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.
“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”
One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.
“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”
You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.
“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”
He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.
“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”
Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”
“James, don’t-“
“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”
Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.
With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.
Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.
With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.
With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.
“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”
Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.
“I can’t- I can’t take it”
“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”
You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.
Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.
“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.
“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.
#metallica smut#metallica fic#metallica fics#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x reader#james hetfield fic#james hetfield fics
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2.2 Major*
Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (f-receiving), fingering, edging, squirting)
Word Count: 2.9k
Previously On...: You told Lily off, Bucky offered you a ride home on his bike.
A/N: So, my job decided not to renew my contract for the upcoming year, so I've been pissed off, annoyed and frustrated. Please enjoy this extra part today because I could use the extra love <3. Also, it's smut!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
God, you thought as you held on to Bucky a little tighter than was probably appropriate, he felt fucking amazing. Like a marble statue of a Greek god, come to life. You honestly could not believe how well this evening had ended up going, even after your final discussion with Lily. You’d been worried, after you’d said what you said to her, that Bucky would be upset with you for how you talked to his best friend but you quickly realized that, if he was the kind of guy who agreed with her line of thinking, well, then he wasn’t the kind of guy you would be interested in getting to know better, anyway. Thank goodness that didn’t seem to be the case.
It was colder than you expected for an early September night as you whipped toward the City, and you found yourself pressing into Bucky’s back. You’d been a little disappointed when you saw he’d had a motorcycle instead of a car– it was impossible to actually hold a conversation with him on a bike– but you were more than happy to snuggle up to him like this, instead, and judging by the way his abdominal muscles contracted when you rested your cheek against his upper back, he seemed to be enjoying it, too.
It was about a forty-five minute drive from the bar where you’d met the Avengers to your condo building, and by the time you reached the city limits, it had begun to drizzle. Once Bucky pulled up to your building, it was raining in full force, and the two of you were soaked.
Once you’d both gotten off the bike and secured the helmets, you made a mad dash to the awning of your building. “I’m so sorry,” you said, laughing at how ridiculous you both must look. “If I had known it was going to open up like this, I would have insisted on taking the train.”
Bucky moved a strand of rain-slicked hair away from your face. “I would still have insisted on driving you,” he said with a smile.
You both stared at each other for a moment, and then spoke at the same time: “Can I walk you up?” Bucky asked at the same time you said “Would you like to come up?” You both chuckled.
“I would feel awful, sending you right back out into the rain,” you said as you let the doorman hold your building’s front door open for you both. “Come inside and warm up a little; dry off.”
Bucky swallowed and nodded, following you into the elevator and you noticed him trying, so hard, not to notice the way your erect nipples strained against the wet fabric of your shirt as it clung to your chest.
When you reached your floor, he trailed behind you, gently holding onto the hem of your jacket as he followed you to your door, as if he were afraid of losing you in the hallway. You tried to mentally run through what your condo had looked like before you’d left for the evening. The cleaners had come today while you were at work, and you were fairly sure you hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying around.
You unlocked the door and slipped inside, Bucky close behind. Locking the door behind you, you turned to face him, watching as he studied the main living room of your home. “This is nice,” he said, taking everything in.
“Thanks.” You slipped out of your jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. “Let me get you a towel,” you offered, moving toward your linen closet.
No sooner had you opened the closet door than the lights in your apartment went out. “Doll?” you heard Bucky call to you from the living room. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you called back, grateful that your emergency candles were also located in the linen closet. “I’ll be right there.”
Bucky looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of your living room. “Looks like a good chunk of the neighborhood’s out, too,” he said. “Glad we got off that elevator when we did, otherwise, we’d be stuck in there instead of here.”
You felt your cheeks flush as you brought out the towels and a handful of candles. The idea of being trapped in an elevator for an undetermined amount of time with a man this beautiful would not necessarily have been a bad thing. “Here,” you said, handing Bucky some of the candles. “Will you help me light these?”
You and Bucky worked companionably for the next few minutes, lighting the candles and setting them around the living room until you’d created a warm, glowing perimeter. It would almost have been romantic, if it had been done on purpose. You handed Bucky a towel. “Here you go,” you said, then reached for your phone. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”
“Not at all,” he said, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Put on that band you like; the one that plays that song we danced to.”
You smiled. “Yeah, okay.” You navigated to your music player and opened up your Bleachers playlist, putting it on shuffle. You turned the volume down low enough so that you could comfortably talk over it while still listening to the music. “Can I get you something to drink?” you asked, trying to be a good hostess in spite of the current circumstances.
“I’m good,” Bucky said, taking the towel from his head. You had to suppress a snicker– his hair was going in every direction.
“What?” he asked, a small frown playing across his lips.
“Nothing,” you said, trying not to giggle. “You just look like an adorable drowned rat. Come here.” You started walking toward Bucky, and he toward you, until you met each other in the middle of your living room floor. “Let me,” you said, taking the towel from him and running it across his hair again. He bent down to allow you easier access to the top of his head, and when you pulled your hands away, he looked up at you through his lashes, stealing your breath with how beautiful he was in the candlelight.
“Thank you, again,” you swallowed, “for driving me home.” Before he could reply, you stood up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The action seemed to catch you both by surprise, because you each froze. There was a sudden shift in the air, a coiled tension; it was like suddenly, you both knew what was about to happen between you. You knew what was going to happen, and that it was inevitable.
“I… don’t ever do this,” you whispered, lips so close to his face that they were fluttering against his skin.
“Me, either,” he told you, his voice gone husky. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I want to,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “Really badly.”
“Me, too. So bad.”
You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but in an instant, his hands were on your waist, yours around his neck as your mouths found one another. He tasted like a hint of bourbon as his tongue made its way into your mouth, and you moaned as he pressed his hips against yours.
“Major,” he groaned, moving his lips from your mouth, down your neck, and to the covered peaks of your breasts. He sucked at a hardened nipple through the fabric of your drenched shirt and you arched your back, pressing your flesh further into his mouth. “Fuck,” he moaned.
“Please, Bucky,” you heard yourself whine desperately as he continued to suckle on you through your shirt. “Oh fuck, please.”
He pulled his mouth away from your breast. “‘Please,’ what, pretty girl? You gotta tell me what you want with your words.”
His tone was so seductive, so commanding, that you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “Please… touch me, Sergeant,” you begged, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. “Everywhere.” You found his mouth with yours once again, and could feel him smirk into your lips as he kissed you.
“When you ask so nicely, doll…” he said, and you felt his hands grasp the hem of your shirt, tugging it up over your torso. You raised your arms above your head to assist him in removing it, and you stood before him, top completely bare.
“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching out a hand to grab and knead at the soft mound of your breast. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
You took a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you kissed him again, gently guiding you both down to the floor until he had himself propped up on one elbow above you. “Off,” you panted, pawing at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but Bucky hesitated.
“What is it?” you asked gently, when it was obvious he was reluctant.
Bucky avoided looking you in the eye. “I’ve got… scars,” he said, embarrassment written across his face. “They’re… they’re not pretty.”
You leaned up to kiss him. “Do any of them keep your dick from working?” you asked.
Bucky barked a startled laugh. “...No.”
“Then take your clothes off, Sergeant,” you said, smiling at him. “That’s a direct order.”
“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” Grinning, Bucky leaned back on his haunches and tugged his shirt over his head. If you’d had a cock, it would have sprung to attention at the sight of his muscles, the six pack that rippled across his stomach, the Adonis belt that pointed to unseen delights still to be revealed. You barely even noticed the ragged lines of scar tissue along his shoulder.
That was, however, until you caught the reflection of the candlelight in the metal of his left arm. That was unexpected, you thought to yourself, but by no means a dealbreaker. You bit your bottom lip as you studied him. Despite the scars and his obvious prosthesis, you couldn’t help but think he was perfect.
You reached down to the buttons of your jeans and began undoing them, desperate to get them off your body and him into it.
“Let me help you, doll,” Bucky said. With swiftness but exquisite care, he rolled your pants down. You lifted your hips to assist him and he gently shimmied the wet fabric off of you, until he was pulling one leg off, then the next, leaving you in just a pair of pink lace panties. You squirmed slightly under his appraising gaze before he hooked his index fingers into either side of the waistband of your underwear and began to–agonizingly slowly– pull them down your thighs.
When he’d moved them all the way down your legs, he fisted the material in his metal hand, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling. “God,” he moaned as he palmed himself through the jeans he was still wearing. “You smell divine, doll.”
His words sent another rush of wetness seeping from you, and you were convinced you were going to leave a puddle on the floor if he didn’t do something to you soon. “Bucky,” you moaned.
Tossing your panties aside, Bucky leaned forward and, placing one hand on each of your knees, slowly spread your legs open until you were fully on display before him. Suddenly self-conscious, you tried to close your legs, but Bucky stopped you with a hungry look. “Please don’t, doll,” he whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes. “You’re so fucking beautiful… I just wanna look at you a minute.”
You closed your eyes and let out a shaky exhale as Bucky positioned himself between your legs, lowering himself down so that he was lying on his stomach, his face mere inches from your center. He ran a hand along the inside of each of your legs, from your knees to your thighs, and you gasped at the difference in temperature and sensation– one soft and warm, the other hard and cold. When he reached the apex, he tucked a thumb on either side of your outer folds and ran them up your slit, opening you to him like a fresh, ripe peach.
“So gorgeous,” he murmured, and you could feel the breath of his words hot against your core. “I need to take a taste, doll,” he whispered, and before you could fully prepare yourself, his mouth was on you. Your hips immediately bucked at the hot contact, his large hands continuing to spread you wide as his tongue explored you.
“Fuck,” you gasped, trying not to vibrate out of your skin with the pleasure of it all. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god! Don’t stop.”
Bucky pulled his mouth away from you just enough to murmur “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” before diving in again. His mouth was magic as he worked you, from nipping and sucking on your clit, to thrusting his tongue in and out of you, to gently nibbling the sensitive skin of your engorged outer lips. Everything he did was heaven, and you felt your orgasm building with rapid speed.
“Oh, shit,” you cried as his tongue lapped at your weeping hole. “Oh shit, Bucky, I’m gonna cum!”
He pulled his mouth away from you, leaving you gasping at the lack of contact. “Not yet, doll,” he said with a filthy grin. “Not yet.”
He proceeded to play you with his mouth, as if you were an instrument and he was a world class musician, but he wouldn’t let you cum. Every time you got close, he would back off, taking you just far enough before pulling you back from the ledge. It was frustrating the shit out of you, but it was magnificent. You had never been edged so well in your entire life.
Finally, finally, after what felt like hours, it was too much. You needed to cum or you felt like you were going to die. “Bucky,” you cried, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets and feeling the space wet with tears. “Bucky, please! Please, let me cum! I need it, Bucky! Need it so fucking bad!”
His tongue found your clit again, dancing circles over the sensitive nub, and you felt one of his hands let go of you, only to have two of his thick fingers sliding into your entrance with no resistance. He finger fucked you while he sucked on your clit, and the combined sensation, after all the edging, was driving you crazy. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. “So close.”
Almost as if taking your words as a challenge, Bucky curved his fingers inside of you, dragging them again and again against your g-spot until you were gasping. The pressure was so intense; you’d never felt anything like it before– not once in all your married years had your ex-husband ever brought you anywhere close to where Bucky had brought you in one night.
You were a kettle, about to boil over; a caldera long overdue for its world-ending eruption. You were ecstasy personified, and he hadn’t even brought you to climax yet.
And then, you exploded, screaming his name so loudly you were worried your neighbors would call the police.
It was a release unlike any you had ever felt before– a double shot of pleasure, and you were positive that, for a moment, you lost consciousness, or at the very least, your soul had temporarily vacated your body. When you came back to yourself, Bucky was leaning over your face, grinning from ear to ear.
“Did you know you were gonna do that, doll?” he asked as he bent down to kiss you. You could taste the tang of your arousal on his tongue, along with something else, undefinable and unique.
“D-do w-what?” you asked, your own voice sounding shaky and far away. Your whole body was trembling, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsating through you.
Bucky lied down next to you, pulling your naked, sweat-slicked body into his, and wrapping his arms around you. “You squirted all over my face, doll! It was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”
You laughed through chattering teeth. “I’ve… ne-never d-d-done that be-before,” you said. “F-fuck.”
“I’ll say.” Bucky nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you something? A glass of water? A blanket?”
You shook your head. “Ju-just ne-ne-need a mi-mi-minute to c-come b-b-back int-t-to my b-b-b-body,” you said. “H-h-hold m-me? P-p-p-please?”
“Yeah, of course, doll,” he said, pulling you closer into him. He reached up and pulled a throw blanket off of the arm of your couch, wrapping it snuggly around you both, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of him.
“Y-you d-d-didn’t c-c-cum,” you said, feeling the trembling decrease, but not ready to stop all together. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Bucky said, kissing your head. “Watching you come undone like that? I fucking came in my pants like a goddamn teenager. It was unbelievable.” His tone turned serious. “Did you like it? Was it okay?”
Using all the energy you had left in your body, you turned to face him, noticing the concerned look in his eye in the candlelight. “Th-that w-w-was the s-single b-b-best org-a-asm of m-my entire f-f-fucking life.” You kissed him again, desperately clinging to his forearm to ground you. “Th-th-thank you.”
Bucky smiled. “If you don’t mind, then,” he said, burying his face into your shoulder, “I’d like to give you a couple more before morning, if that’s okay with you?”
“Sh-sh-shit,” you laughed. “Y-y-yes p-please.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader
Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 - Need | Chapter 6
Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?
Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment your request on any chapter to be tagged in future ones
Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader
Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses
Word count: 6.7k
This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)
It had been a few weeks since you and Sukuna had talked. You had continued attending various meetings and hearings alongside him to snoop in people’s minds. Word had already spread of your presence. A woman with a shirt adorned with gold buttons sat beside the king and gave him notes. Notes that led to death. When people came in with their heads down, you could feel their gaze linger when they realized you were there. The way they grew tenser, their thoughts becoming a dark jumble. It was fun really, the amount of fear you and Sukuna put into people when together.
When it came to you two, he kept to his word of taking things slow. He often showed up at your door to take you to his chambers to share dinner. You hadn’t had sex but you had been teasing each other. Your ass “accidentally” grinding into him at night or you “not noticing” your boob had slipped out of your nightgown during the night. Him whispering your name into your ear in the morning, voice gruff, and arms wrapped around you. Or the way his tongue danced along your neck before he would bite you, one hand pulling in your hair, two on your hips, and the other resting beside your breast. His scent would completely encapsulate you, his touch would make your body forget how to breathe. You both pushed but neither had broken. It almost felt like a competition now, a stupid one that you weren’t sure was possible to actually win. That’s why you were sitting in a meeting with the King, thighs clenched together and thoughts a mess. Messy thoughts telling you to use cursed energy to tease him, touch along his body. Caress all the places you couldn’t. If Uruame wasn’t there you really might’ve. Instead, you sat frustrated and waited for the meeting to end.
When everyone was finally dismissed from the room, you let out a groan. Sukuna turned his head to look at you, his smile growing evermore. “You may look up now, since you’ve been such a good girl for me”, he said. Gods you hated it when he first called you that, made you feel like an animal. Now that asshole had made you subconsciously like it. You looked up at him, eyes carved by features of anger, but irises soaking with whispers of lust. You wanted to tell him to break, to touch you, but if you did then you would be the one to break. So instead you moved yourself into his lap, legs straddling him, breasts pressed against his chest, arms around his neck, and head resting above his heart. You thought about when he fucked you like this, his extra mouth moving between your clit and nipples as his cocks hammered in and out of you.
“Who gave you permission to crawl on your King like this?” His voice was teasing, he knew how much you wanted him right then. He wanted it too. He had already been caught on multiple occasions with his pants forming a tent. Just yesterday he was in a hearing without you and ended up growing hard during it. The peasant talked about how he was starving and blah blah blah. All he could think about was being inside you again, hearing you call out for him as he fucked you until he was satisfied. He thought this little game you two were playing was stupid, but he also refused to lose. He wouldn’t let you know he wanted you as much as he did. His hands let themselves free to explore your body, purposely getting close but not on the spots you wanted him. He chuckled as your body responded to his touch, arching into it in a plea for more. A chuckle that made you immediately get out of his lap.
“Asshole”, you said while straightening your clothes out.
“Asshole? And here I was calling you a good girl and letting you sit in my lap. If you want me to touch you further, all you have to do is ask. I won’t even make you beg.” He remained seated on his place on the floor but pulled you closer as he spoke. His face was just a few inches from your ever-clenching cunt. As you looked down at him you thought back to when you told him you wanted to ride his face and drown him in your cum. His face would look so shiny and pretty. You ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes rolling closed as you massaged his scalp, before leaning down next to his ear.
“That’s where we differ then, Sukuna, I will make you beg to touch me. To stick your fingers inside me, to let your tongue taste the effect you have on me, to put your cocks back in their warm cozy homes, to feel them suck you in and drench you in my cum.” You punctuated your last whispered sentence by biting his ear. A small puncture wound opened up and blood began rushing to escape. You pulled away as the first drop beaded and prepared to descend. You gathered it on your index finger before sliding it into your mouth. Blood trailed on your bottom lip as it slid in and your cheeks hollowed as you pulled it back out. A loud pop resonating in the air. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and let your eyes roll back as you sucked the remaining blood away. A small moan reverberated through your chest, muted by your closed lips, but loud enough to be effective. The very obvious bulge in his pants twitched from the show you were putting on. His hands gripped tighter on your body, his eyes dark and drooping with need. You pulled from his grip and told him good luck with the rest of his schedule. He watched as you walked out the door, wanting to rebuttal or tease you back, but his voice was overshadowed by the war raging between his ego and hormones.
You walked along the palace halls feeling a little better. You were still extremely horny, but you felt a bit better after making sure he was equally miserable. You could already see the sun setting through the windows, the back-to-back meetings you sat through these days had messed with your sense of time. You stretched your arms over your head and attempted to yawn away your body's growing ache. The cushion you sat on in your meetings was an absolute poor excuse for a seat. You wondered how Sukuna sat on his for hours day after day without any signs of pain. Maybe he had a better one, you’d have to check next time. If it was, you would have to steal his until he got you a new one. You turned the hall to your room and were greeted by fewer servants than usual. Two of your male servants were missing from the ensemble and the remaining women looked down in fear.
“Where are Itto and Hiro”, you asked as you stopped in front of them.
Their figures all seemed to stutter at the question, bodies tense and breathes withheld. “T-they have been moved to different jobs ma’am”, Aoi said.
You blinked a few times at Aoi in disbelief. If you had to guess, Sukuna was killing of any possible threats to his courting you. Which part of you found hot, but the other part was pissed that you just lost two perfectly good servants for nothing. You gave a stiff nod to the remaining servants and entered your room. Orange light whispered across your floor as a notice of the sun lowering in the sky. You pulled out a bottle of sake Sukuna had gifted you and poured yourself a drink. Being with Sukuna was fun and of course came with endless perks, but also felt a little suffocating. With him killing your servants, you began to wonder if you were going to be segregated from men altogether. He had promised to try not to be possessive, but here he was doing the exact opposite. You sighed before taking your glass to a seating area in front of one of your windows. You looked out across the palace, the intricate architecture, neatly kept foliage, hurried servants, and river that outlined one side. It was grand. Most people would kill to be where you were, to have the King “properly” courting you. The way he had started to dote on you by giving you his time. The way he actually listened to you and was actively trying to respect your boundaries. The big scary monster he was known to be taking off a mask that not even he knew he wore when he was around you. However, most people that challenged him were slaughtered on the spot, never giving him the chance to truly learn how to interact with another.
There was a lot in common between you two, but he was definitely more bloodthirsty. Not that you had never killed over an insignificant reason, but you did it a lot less than him. You wondered if you would grow to be more cruel as you aged. From what you had heard, Sukuna was at least over 100, which would make him roughly 3 times your age. In the 27 years you had been on earth, you had been through a lot and there were definitely times you thought about annihilating every being that infected the surface. When you met Ieiri, that was exactly your plan actually, but she changed it. She made you realize there are some people that actually deserved to live. Then you meant Kento and it solidified your thinking. They became two unexpected lessons given to you. You would never hurt them, in fact, you would show the depths of hell to anyone who dared lay a finger on them. Like the guy who tried to force himself on Ieiri or the drunk patron who attempted to break a bottle over Kento’s head. Two lowly parasites that believed they had a right to harm those under your protection. Two vile infections that still lay in your realm being tortured and healed without stopping.
You took a drink as you thought of Sukuna’s threat to them. The night of the incident, you had sent a very eager Miro to inform Ieiri to keep her guard up and not to slack on training her energy with Kento. You had also sent various curses to help protect and prepare them for an event that might never come to pass. But should it, you would be ready. You ran your fingers across the smooth clay container. Anxiety and anger swirl inside like the liquid in your glass. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. Sukuna would probably come for dinner and there was no use getting into a fight over an issue that had already been as resolved as it would get. It would only make things tense between you two again and there was obviously no benefit to that. You opened your eyes and leaned back into your chair, the plushness of the cushions enveloping your body in the warmth of comfort. You rested your drink in your lap as your lids fell with the sun. You knew you should stave off the urge to curl up and instead get ready to meet with Sukuna, but something about falling asleep when you weren’t supposed to made it all the more inviting.
Your eyes open but are greeted with the abyss. You go to touch them but a loud rattle of a chain echoes throughout the space. The smell of musty pine overwhelms your senses and panic sets in as you realize where you are. Underneath you sprawls a plush bed covered in various body fluids. You have no idea how long he has kept you in his private room this time. How long doesn’t matter here. Nothing matters here. Even if you died it wouldn’t matter. No one would ever know, ever cry. Just another human discarded by their fellow people. You hear footsteps awakening creaks in the stairs— his footsteps. “Oh Angel” “My Little Dove” he calls out. Pet names given for your appearance. An appearance you’ve never even seen. Apparently, one that screams pure, one that makes others want to defile you. The handle jiggles on the door and you feel the air change as it opens. You want to start crying and were internally screaming and wishing you could run. But if you cried or screamed it would simply enhance his pleasure. He liked the sounds you made for him. If you got out and ran it would be pointless. You had no idea where you were, nor could you see, and you had nowhere to go anyway. He would just find you and laugh as he punished you. Mock as you reached out blindly to try and shield yourself from his attack. You could feel the dip in the bed as he got on and began his nightly onslaught. You drifted off into your mind, disassociating from your physical being. You walked into the darkness within yourself, but this time you saw light far away. Your eyes widened and your pace quickened as you charted towards it. As you grew closer you saw colors, colors outlining shapes you didn’t recognize. Each with different layers. It was beautiful. But in the middle stood a girl. Her hair was dark and crawling in the air. Her eyes were a deep black that mimicked endless voids. Her jaw drooped to the point it pulled her cheeks taut. Her head tilted toward the side as she noticed you. She beckoned you closer, not with any motion, but with a feeling deep inside you. You slowly approached her and she gestured towards the lights around you. You looked around at it all and realized these shapes were people. You began to feel the colors, the feelings embedded in them. For the first time, you felt like you could actually see. You looked back towards the girl and noticed she was already staring at you. Her mouth didn’t move but you heard, “Let me in”, from a raspy voice of a woman who seemed much older than the one before you. Apprehension crossed your thoughts, but what was the point of being scared? What was the point in fearing the unknown when the known wasn’t worth being in? So you said yes. The world around you started spinning, your hair whipping in your face as hers erratically lashed the air. Her face glitched between a hanging mouth and a smile dripping with black goo. Fear crept in you before you were pulled back to reality. Before you, the man assaulting you was in view. You could see the outline of his form and the emotions that made up his psyche. You could see his hands reach out to touch you. You were no longer in the dark, but seeing didn’t resolve the fear and pain you felt currently.
Sukuna walked up to your door, eyes dismissing the servants, as he reached out his hand and knocked against the wood. He listened closely but there was no answer. He shifted on his feet, eyebrows knitting his features into a confused look that was losing patience. He knocked again and called out your name, but again there was no answer. A frustrated breath slipped through his lips as he decided to just open the door. He called out for you again as he entered the room, but quickly silenced himself as he spotted you curled up by the window. You sat in your chair, legs outstretched, hands meeting in your lap to hold a glass, hair falling in erratic waves left from being up the whole day. Your lips lay slightly parted as calm breaths filtered in and out. All of Sukuna’s previous frustrations melted away as he watched you. This was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you, and he was shocked that he didn’t see it as an opportunity to attack you. Instead, he found himself wanting to be at your side and guarding you so that you could sleep in peace. He slowly approached you and knelt down. He could see the slight wear under your eyes that had appeared after your coming here. He wondered how tired you felt and how differently you lived prior to the palace. He knew bits and pieces from when he had Uruame stalk you, but not enough. He wanted to see what happened throughout your day when you were fully unrestricted. What made you laugh, what made you cry? What trouble did you get into and what were the kind of people that you spared? He knew you could be just as evil as him, but he also knew you could be more benevolent than he saw the need to be. A few days ago he watched from afar as you healed a cat and then proceeded to bring it food and water the following days. But he also watched a servant’s legs snap the wrong way when they tried to run the cat off. Such an unpredictable anomaly that had walked into his palace and turned everything upside down for him. He reached to move a stray group of hair out of your face but was abruptly stopped by your hand. It pulled his wrist while your other reached up for his throat, holding him close with a death grip. He looked into your eyes and noticed they were vacant of the color he was used to, instead they were blacked out completely. Just like when you threatened to kill him.
“Hey, it’s me, it’s me. I’m not going to hurt you”, he said as he looked into the voids. Your grip loosened as you blinked. The black receded until all that was left were the same tired eyes he was used to seeing, slowly lighting up in realization.
“Oh shit sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to”, you scrambled to say as you let him go. You had never done well when people unexpectedly touched you while you slept. Especially when you were having flashbacks.
Sukuna watched you as you let him go and your face flushed with embarrassment. You weren’t usually a jumpy person or one to easily spook, but there seemed to be an exception when you were sleeping. He didn’t know much about your past, not even Uruame could find anything out, but you had mentioned being owned previously. Not that he knew how anyone could overpower you, but there were few stories where people enjoyed being owned. He was sure it tied into that somehow, but he wouldn't press the matter.
“No, it's my bad. You know what they say about poking a sleeping bear”, he said with a smile as he rubbed his wrist. Had he been a human or even a lower-grade sorcerer, he was sure it would be cracked if not fully broken from the force you applied.
You smiled back at his joke before your eyes widened in surprise. You felt wet fabric cling to your leg and realized you must have spilled your drink in all the commotion. “Awh, dammnit”, you said as you got up and observed the wet spot going from your upper to mid-thigh and a little on the floor.
Sukuna also noticed the mess and got up with you. “Here I’ll clean it since I’m the one who scared you”, he said as he went to grab a towel.
“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault for freaking out anyway”, you said as you followed him to get a towel. You tried to reach to grab it before him but he instead grabbed your hand and used another to grab the towel.
“Let me do it”, he said as he looked down at you. You wanted to rebuttal but nodded instead. There was a certain softness in his eyes almost akin to pity. You didn’t exactly appreciate pity nor did you understand why his eyes were so full of it so you just looked down. He led you over to the bed and put one towel beneath you before leaving your side to clean the spot on the floor. You watched as he knelt down and sopped up the little bit of liquid. It felt weird seeing him clean. The fearsome King knelt down on the ground cleaning up a mess you made. Once he got it, he walked back over to you and felt the wet spot on your pants.
“You probably want to take these off. They’re too wet for the towel to dry”, he said while his hands moved to the small tie on the side of your pants. He pulled the string and started pulling them off your hips, telling you to lift up to let them pass under you. You did as he said and were left with your bodice and underwear. He sat between your legs and wiped the towel across your skin. His hand grabs your leg and moves it up to get your upper thigh. You could feel your clit start throbbing as he neared it. You looked down at him, the care he applied when cleaning you. The way his eyes gave off no motive other than rectifying his mess. You reached down and cupped his face, gently nudging it up to look at you as your hand moved under his jaw. You garnered the attention of all four of his eyes as your thumb caressed his face.
“What is it”, he asked as he looked up at you. He had never seen you look at him the way you were. Lust swirling in your eyes but an unfamiliar emotion dancing with it. It was akin to need but not in the same carnal league as the lust. It was deeper, he could feel it radiating from you. Like it was welcoming him in.
“It is still sticky. I think it needs to be cleaned up differently,” you said as your thumb slid across his cheek to his lips. You wanted him, but you needed him to take it at your pace this time. You wanted to stay in control in order to fight the feeling your nightmare left behind to eat away at you.
His eyebrow quirked up as he caught your meaning. He tossed the towel to the side before rubbing his thumb along your thigh. “I think you’re right, it is still pretty sticky here darling”, he said while grabbing your hand and kissing it before leaning down to your thigh. He had never felt the need to care for someone, to show them love, but right now that feeling swelled in him until he couldn’t help but let it flow out. He didn’t know if it was because he was feeling your feelings or if it simply stemmed from him, and he didn’t really care. He looked up at you before licking a long stripe up your thigh. The face you made for him and the way your breath hitched had him wanting to stop time. To stay in the moment that you looked at him as if he was the only one in the world, the only man for you. He wanted everyone to know that these moments with you belonged to him, that you belonged to him. He didn’t care if some people saw it as a weakness. Anyone that dared state is as one would be thoroughly re-educated by you and him together.
You looked down and watched as he lapped at your skin. Your skin sank into his mouth as he sucked on certain spots, dark little marks blooming in his wake. You couldn’t help a moan that fell out when he bit one spot, his tongue quickly cleaning up the blood that greeted him. “You seem to be making more messes rather than cleaning”, you said as your fingers threaded themselves through his hair, pulling it tightly earning a low groan from him.
His lids lowered as his gaze kept yours. “My deepest apologies. I suppose I will have to take more time focusing on every inch of your skin. Assuring there is absolutely no mess left behind”, he said in between strokes of his tongue. The mouth on his hand joined to suck the sensitive skin right before where your thighs met your pelvis. His thumb and forefinger held the seam where they did.
“Naughty King. You’re making an even bigger mess with what you’re doing”, you said as you scratched his scalp tenderly.
“Hmm is that so? Where is said mess baby girl? I’ll make sure to clean it too”, he said as he kissed over the bruised areas and massaged his thumb right beside your pubic bone.
“You seem to have gotten my underwear wet, Kuna. Too wet to be dried. I think they need to come off and the area beneath needs to be cleaned.”
He looked up at you and smirked. “Is this your way of admitting defeat by asking me to touch you?”
You raised your eyebrows in faux shock and exclaimed, “Oh no, of course not. This is simply you sticking to your word and cleaning up the messes you’ve made. Are you saying you’re the kinda King that goes back on his word?”
“Ohoho careful there brat”, he said as he ripped your underwear off. He pulled you close and sank his lips down to around your clit. He sucked in sharply without warning as his tongue started swirling rapidly. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and arched your back to increase the suction being applied. “You should know better than to question me as a King. I think I am being more than generous right now, no?”
“I think you’re focusing on one spot for too long. Such lack of diligence when it comes to cleanliness”, you retorted while pulling his mouth off of you. “Put your tongue out flat.”
His tongue darted out to gather the mess you had left on his lips, “Such a bossy little brat tonight”. He laid out his tongue as you instructed before surprising you by stealing a lick across your spread labia. The sensation only lasted a minute before you were using his shoulders to lift yourself with your legs, one hand balancing you on the bed and the other in his hair as you pushed your cunt against his tongue. You let out a slow moan as you started by slowly sliding yourself up and down across his tongue. He groaned as he watched you use his to pleasure yourself, something the King wasn’t used to happening. But the way you sucked on your bottom lip as your hooded eyes watched where you two connected had him more than happy to be used by you. He watched the way your stomach muscles flexed as you moved on him, felt how you twitched against his tongue and smelled the arousal that began to pool on his chin. You were so breathtaking like this. He felt the emotions you had wrapped him in begin to change as the uneasiness you originally felt faded away. Sukuna had given you control of the situation and didn’t fight you on it. He didn’t make you cower before him or wantonly obey him. He wasn’t perfect, but fuck it was so attractive that you could see him trying to change for you. The emotionless monster showing you sides that didn’t exist before you came into his life.
Your grip tightened on his hair as your pace started to quicken. The sensation of his soft yet textured tongue constantly touching every part of your folds and rubbing your clit bare and through the hood was driving you insane. Your vision felt like it was spinning, you were starting to have a hard time focusing as the tension inside your abdomen grew. You were close and you both knew it. When your thighs started to shake and your rhythm started to falter, Sukuna’s hands found their way to your thighs and waist as he helped stabilize and guide you through your orgasm. Small cries left your lips as the pleasure took you over, Sukuna’s tongue working to milk every last drop of his orgasm. When your vision returned to normal Sukuna was still lapping up your cum. Tongue dipping into you to pull it all out and venturing to your other hole on occasion. You tried to pull away as overstimulation seeped into your muscles, but he kept you in place. “Hold still baby, I need to show you how serious I am about keeping my word”, he said in between licks.
You whined a little in protest but he just smirked at you. His fingers rubbed where they held you in an offering of comfort as he continued to absolutely devour you. He alternated between greeting every crevice of your labia and clit with his tongue, to swirling his tongue around your ass and pointing his tongue inside. The sounds in your ears started to blend into a high-pitched ringing tone as your cheeks grew red with warmth. Your legs were visibly shaking on his shoulders and your hips bucked without order from your mind. Your orgasm began to creep up on you again, but you halted it by pulling Sukuna onto the bed and flipping him under you. His features contorted in confusion as he looked up at you, face glistening as your juices dripped down his chin.
“Fuck, Kitten. I thought I was the one cleaning you. Why did you make me switch? Don’t tell me you grew too hungry for the taste of my cocks that you couldn’t wait”, he said as he looked down at you. He had propped himself up on his elbows and stuffed your pillows behind your back so he could watch you. His hair stuck up all kinds of ways from where you played with it, his lids were heavy with lust, and his ever-darkening eyes peered through them to watch you.
“I just thought it was unfair to make you do all the work. You are my King, after all, it is only fitting I assist you however I can. And your poor pants looked like they were about to tear from all the strain”, you said as you rubbed him through the fabric. You could hear his breathing pattern become interrupted as your fingers traced the shapes. Your nail lightly raked over the bottom one, following the engorged muscle that protruded from the bottom side. A growl reverberated throughout his chest, followed by slightly profane praises for your work. You looked up at him as you slid your body along his crotch until your mouth found the string holding his pants up. You reached your tongue out for it, the tips grazing the lower part of his abs making them suck in. You felt him twitch against your chest as you gripped the hindrance with your teeth and pulled it undone. He watched in lust-clouded awe as you began you pull his pants back. Your mouth kissing, sucking, and licking at the newly found skin. Once you pulled back to the point his cocks were almost revealed you told him to lift his hips so you could get the rest of the way down. “Oh? I thought you said you were going to assist your King yet here you are barking orders to me”, he said while smirking.
You raised your eyebrows and tongued the inside of your cheek before letting out a small chuckle and ripping his pants off. His lips almost managed to form words, but yours found your way to his cocks before they could come to fruition. Tatters of his pants flew across the room as you laid yourself between his legs and started licking his bottom cock. Your tongue traced the outline of it over and over while your lips sucked on the tip. Heavy sighs and low groans reverberated through him as you continued your work. You turned your head and pulled in the underside of his cock and started moving your head up and down. Spit fell from the corners of your mouth as you looked up at him. (E/C) irises swirling with lust and untold plans as your lips peeked from both sides of his cock. After a few pumps like this, you pushed your mouth down onto his tip and filled your throat up. His cock completely cut off your air supply as you sank down deeper onto him. You used your hand to stroke the parts of the base you couldn’t fit and watched as he started to play with his other cock. He pushed it down slightly so that your face ran along it as you pleasured the other. You pulled away from him and used your energy to pull his hands above his head and pin them there.
You moved yourself up to eye level with him, cocks brushing against your dripping entrance and boobs draping against his chest. You licked along his jaw and neck, cleaning yourself off of him before moving back over his face. You playfully kitten-licked his lips before saying, “Keep your hands here or I stop what I am doing, okay?”
His head pushed up as he quickly took your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and pulling it back before releasing it to pop back to its original position. “Such a brave brat ordering me around like this. Does fear never visit you”, he asked while meeting your gaze. His eyes feral from the predicament of being tied to your bed while you so eagerly pleased him.
You dipped your head to his ear, kissing where it met his neck before pressing your lips to his earlobe. “Fear knows better than to show its face to a predator, don’t you know we feed off of that”, you asked before slowly pushing your body back down to where it was. A hearty laugh rocked his chest at your question. The fire in his eyes seemed to be stoked by what you said, their colors seemed to burn with fervor as they closely watched all of your movements. You lowered yourself back to your original position between his legs. Your hand slid his lower cock between the valley of your breasts as you began sucking on the top one. Hand pumping him up and down once it was covered in enough spit to allow your hand to freely roam.
His toned abs flexed when his tip fell victim to the suction in your mouth and he sucked the remainder of your cum off his lips as he watched his other cock fall between your tits. It slid so nicely, the spit it was once coated in now creating a shiny layer on your breasts. He watched as they jiggled as they crashed against his pelvis with each bob of your head and felt the way the friction made you moan against his cocks. The feeling of it shooting from your throat down the one inside your mouth, and the feeling of the vibrations coming from your chest spreading to the other one had him pushing his hips further into you. He watched as tears swelled in the corners of your eyes as you gagged around him, fresh spit slipping past your lips and pooling at the base of his cock. He waited for the repercussions of his actions but was never meant with any, so he continued pistoning his hips into your throat. Sounds of skin slapping skin and choked gags filled the room as he fucked your throat and tits. It was so fucking erotic. Never had he had someone take him like you did, never had he allowed someone to take control like he did with you. And fuck he was starting to think about how much he was missing it. This was almost as sexy as when you ate his finger. He thought back to that day, the way you both were covered in blood, the violence you endured from each other in search of your own releases. Those thoughts mixed with the present situation had his cock twitching in a pretense of his release.
You watched through blurry eyes as his features started to pull together, his eyes narrowed, his lips parted, his body restless. You opened your mouth fully to allow him full access to your throat as he chased his orgasm. As his rhythm began to falter, you picked it up and guided him into nirvana. He groaned your name as he buried himself fully in your throat and started cumming. It poured down your throat as the other one shot it all across your face and chest. You kept swallowing as it kept flowing into you, it started to feel like it would never end. After the last rope shot down your mouth you pulled off of his cock. You looked like a filthy whore as you stared at him through lashes covered in cum. Milky white stains covered your face, ropes slid off of your face to your already cum covered chest, some falling right back onto his cock. He watched as your fingers began to scrape it into your mouth, your peeking out to lick it off of your fingers. You dropped your mouth to let him see how it gathered on your tongue before swallowing it and coming back out clean.
“Fuck, why do you have to be so sexy baby”, he asked as he sat up, your magic dissipating from around his wrists allowing him to touch you.
“I want you inside me, Kuna. I’ve been wanting it. Been thinking about how full you made me feel last time. It’s been so long, I want you inside me again”, you started to whine as you crawled up onto his lap. Two of his hands found their places on his hips, while the other two cradled your head. He was all for fucking you senseless until you coudln’t bare to not have his cocks inside you, but he also knew you hadn’t eaten since early in the morning. And since some stupid part of him remembered and cared about that he told you no.
“Not right now, pretty girl. I came here to eat with you and what we have eaten so far, isn’t quite what your body needs,” he said while standing up with your legs still around him. You started to protest but he simply quietened you with a kiss. He walked into your bathroom to find the tub empty, as if forgetting it wasn’t like his. He looked down at you, “I am going to take us to my bath, okay? I promise it won’t be like last time. I just want to get you cleaned up before we eat.” You were genuinely caught off guard by how sweet he was being tonight. It almost made you feel like you were talking to an imposter.
“Why are you being so sweet to me?”
He looked as caught off guard as you when you asked that. He blinked at you a few times before looking away. “Honestly, I don’t know. Never have a felt the need to care for something like I do for you. Never have I felt guilty about hurting someone like I do when I think about how I killed you. I don’t understand it, but I also don’t hate it. You have at least proved yourself to be worth caring about, so…”, he trailed off. You reached up and caressed his face before kissing him. Maybe he really wouldn’t be a bad partner, maybe.
Taglist: @missroro @roxytheimmortal
#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#sukuna fic#sukuna x you#sukuna angst#sukuna smut#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna true form#sukuna#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna fic recs#sukuna x curse user!reader#sukuna x sorcerer!reader
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Kinktober 2024
Day 30: Biting
Kang Taehyun x Reader Word Count: 1,323 Genre: Smut/Fluff Rating: Explicit THIS FIC IS NSFW, MINORS DNI! Summary: When Y/N and Taehyun are discussing their likes and dislikes in the bedroom, Y/N makes an embarrassing admission. Taehyun is surprised, but happily uses the information to his advantage. Warnings: Soft dom!Taehyun, inexperienced!Reader x experienced!Taehyun, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint. If you think I missed a warning let me know! A/N: If you would like to be added to my Kinktober taglist, you can send an ask, send a dm, or comment on any of my Kinktober-related posts with the username that you'd like tagged. Happy reading!
Taglist: @unlikelysublimekryptonite
Fic is under the cut.
The first time you had sex with Taehyun, the last thing you were expecting was for him to bite you. You had very little prior sexual experience before him, and it wasn’t something any of your previous partners had ever done. It was painful when he bit your neck for the first time, but you also had to admit that you thought that it was really sexy. When it happened, he was very apologetic, saying, “I’m sorry, princess. I don’t know what came over me. Are you ok?” You nodded in response, and he checked your neck for marks and asked again if you were ok before he continued fucking into you.
After you two were done, he apologized again, worried that he made you uncomfortable. You wanted to tell him that he hadn’t, in fact you’d liked it and wanted him to do it again, but you were too embarrassed to admit it. Once you got over your embarrassment, you just couldn’t find the right time to talk to him about it.
The right time to talk about it ended up presenting itself a few weeks after your first time with Taehyun. He’d seen an idea for “Want, will, won’t” lists online, or lists of what you liked or didn’t like as well as what you were willing to try in bed, and wanted to use it as a way to definitively establish limits for both of you. You loved the idea, and it was the perfect opportunity to tell him how much you liked it when he bit you, so you happily agreed.
Making the lists with Taehyun went surprisingly well. You got a good idea of what he was like in bed, and learned all kinds of fun new words for things that you didn’t even know were kinks. You also got a better understanding of his limits in the bedroom as well as your own, which you were grateful for. You almost forgot what you’d wanted to tell him, too distracted by the excitement of learning new things. Before you could chicken out again, you mumbled, “By the way, I just wanted to tell you that I wasn’t uncomfortable a few weeks ago. I actually kind of liked it when you bit me.”
To say that Taehyun was surprised was an understatement. Based on how you’d reacted, he was certain that biting would be a hard no for you in the future. Once he got over the initial surprise, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, baby?”
“I was embarrassed about it, then I just couldn’t figure out the right time to bring it up.”
Taehyun softened when he heard your explanation. He would have been lying if he’d said that he wasn’t a little bit frustrated that you’d waited to tell him, but he understood why you did it. In all honesty, he was incredibly relieved that he hadn’t accidentally overstepped a boundary.
As you both finished your lists and discussed them, you couldn’t help but think about trying some of the things that Taehyun had mentioned that he liked. On top of that, you hadn’t had sex since your first time a few weeks before. It was embarrassing for you to admit, but you had quite a bit of pent-up frustration that you wanted a release for. Based on the way that Taehyun was looking at you while you talked, you had a feeling that he was feeling the same frustration.
Once your lists were done and the discussion was over, an awkward silence filled the room. Taehyun was the first to break it, asking, “Are you ok, princess?”
“I’m ok, Tae. Just thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“You.”
“Oh, really? What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” You refused to respond, instead looking down at the floor in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. Your silence still told him everything he needed to know, though. When he asked, “Are you thinking about me fucking you?” you nodded, confirming his suspicions.
“I’m sorry, I was just-”
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. It’s ok. Go ahead into the bedroom, and I’ll straighten this mess up.”
You went to your shared bedroom like Taehyun asked and removed your clothes while you waited for him. After you left the room, he put away the pens and notebooks you’d used to make your lists, finding a safe place to tuck away the lists themselves. Then, he met you in your bedroom. When he saw you already naked and waiting, his cock twitched in his pants. Before he said a word, you looked up at him and said, “Please fuck me, Tae.”
Within seconds, Taehyun’s own clothes were on the floor, and he was on top of you. He kissed you softly, then he pulled away and flashed you a mischievous smile. You wanted to ask him what he was planning on doing, but before you could get the words out, you felt him bite your neck again.
You moaned at the feeling of Taehyun’s mouth on you, and he had to admit that it gave him a hell of an ego boost. He continued kissing and biting every inch of your neck that he could reach, and you loved it. When he pulled away from your neck, he couldn’t help but admire the patchwork of hickeys that had formed.
As much as you enjoyed it when Taehyun bit you, you still wanted more. So, you looked up at him with the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen and said, “Please fuck me, Tae. I want you inside me.”
Taehyun didn’t have to be told twice. He kissed you one more time, just to show you that he loved you, and lined himself up with your pussy. When he gently entered you, you cried out again. It was embarrassing to admit, but it took longer for you to adjust to having his cock inside you than you would have liked.
When you gave him the ok to start moving, Taehyun started slowly, kissing you as he moved in and out. As he fucked you, soft moans and gasps left your mouth. You had always been on the quieter side in bed, but Taehyun didn’t mind. In fact, he thought you were adorable regardless of how loud you got.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but after a while, you noticed that Taehyun was thrusting faster. While you loved when he started out soft and slow, it was when he started to lose himself in pleasure and fuck you harder that you really started to enjoy it. You found yourself even more turned on when he went back to kissing and biting you, this time focusing his efforts on your shoulders and chest rather than your neck.
Every time you felt Taehyun’s teeth sinking into your skin, you felt your orgasm get closer and closer. You warned him that you were close and that you didn’t know how much longer you were going to last. He stopped kissing your shoulder just long enough to say, “Cum for me, princess. I’ve got you.”
That was all you needed to hear to come undone around Taehyun’s cock. When he felt your pussy squeeze around him, his own climax hit him like a truck as he filled you with his cum. You both knew it wasn’t the smartest idea to have sex without a condom, but if you were being honest with yourselves, that was part of the fun.
When you and Taehyun came down from your highs, you got yourselves cleaned up and changed into your favorite pajamas. Once you were more comfortable, you got back into bed. He did the same, holding you close. While the two of you cuddled in bed, you told each other again and again how much you loved each other. When you were too tired to talk, you went to sleep, feeling relaxed and content in each other’s arms.
Thank you for reading! If you'd like to see what else I've written so far and what I have planned for tomorrow, you can find my Kinktober masterlist here. If you'd like to read one of my non-Kinktober works, you can find my general masterlist here. If you'd like to see what I'm going to be posting once Kinktober is over, you can find my upcoming works here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms!
Thank you again for reading, happy spooky season!
#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#kpop smut#txt x reader#txt fanfic#txt smut#taehyun smut#taehyun x reader#taehyun fluff#kinktober 2024#kpop kinktober#kinktober#kvanity
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𝔇𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℑ’𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 |
ft. sex demon ! 𝗘𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗗 | 🌶 🔞 MDI
“𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.” — E. Kid, to you
synopsis: on a lonely night you decide to get a bit buzzed and think, fuck it, why not try to summon a sex demon? Turns out to be either the biggest blessing, or biggest mistake you’ve made in a while.
♫: click for inspo song
pairing: Incubus! Kid x Fem! Reader (no physical description of reader, except hair that can be pulled)
cw: *inhales* demon summoning, bully Eustass, brat taming, blood + pain play, cunnilingus, drinking mention, predator x prey, breeding, dacryphilia, dumbification, belly bulge, overstimulation, praise + degradation, size kink af with our 6’7 king, use of pet names, insane stamina, gets softer at the end
tags: @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @nikos-a-clown @pinkcrystal-rose
© Writing & Imagery in this is my intellectual property. Do not plagiarize or repost to other platforms without my permission. Love, DemonBanger
______
You stuff your fingers in your dribbling pussy, but just could not get yourself full enough. You felt like such a horny bastard tonight, with so much sexual desperation, and finally decided you wanted to start masturbating again. But nothing worked like when you first started; you’ve just been single for too long and miss the feeling of real cock.
Even a dildo couldn’t do the trick anymore. You needed the real thing, with pumping veins and harsh thrusts, attached to a heavy man that pressed you into the mattress, with low grunts and dirty words moaned lowly into your ear.
You sigh in frustration and set the toys down, taking a swig out of some whiskey to let it take over more of your senses. The liquor burns so beautifully going down your throat…too bad there wasn’t another hot liquid also sinking down your oral cavity.
The familiar floaty headspace seeps in like an old friend that you keep away at arm’s length, as your heartbeat drums in your warm chest. Buzzed you feels like a dragon waking from a slumber, with old runes in the form of dumb ideas filling your brain.
“Might as well fucking summon a sex demon at this point,” you mutter. The idea rolls over in your head for a few minutes, and the curiosity of trying something crazy and reckless like this gets more and more appealing to your buzzed brain, until eventually you think: Wait. Fuck it, what if I tried it at least? You laugh to yourself.
What would you have to lose anyways? Just your soul? You don’t even feel like you have one these days until you drink good old caffeine.
You tap the safari icon on your phone, to research how one would even go about summoning an incubus, and take another swig to invite the madness more.
A few forums say the same thing. People asking if you actually want to invite such a thing into your life, some dude talking about how his wife cheated on him with one of those entities and was never the same after that. Hahah…cuck.
You scoff. You have existential crises every day, no sex demon can fuck your life up like you feel you can. Demons, where you at? It’s ya boi. You think about the meme and cackle way too hard for something so unfunny and possibly life-threatening.
Then you scroll over a comment that is long with a lot of upvotes on it. It looks serious. Seems legitimate. There are no comments underneath, but it reads like a serious spell book.
Eh, why not? You laugh again. The comment warned against masturbating beforehand to make sure your sexual energy was at its peak to really invite any sexual spirits. Welp, already fucked that up, so if this doesn’t work at least you could have something fun to do and then tire yourself out and call it a night.
Then you read how it involves extracting blood from a few…sources such as the tongue and pussy and you wonder if there’s a better way. A paper cut on any of those things sounds gross. Eek.
You look over YouTube and find the first video that pops up. The speaker sounds experienced, and says that it’s much simpler than any methods. Just make a request to the demon Asmodeus by reaching a meditative state, and adamantly focusing on his name.
Simple enough. You try and make sure your room is a little tidy, burn a couple of cutesy candles, and dress in a black spiked collar and a cute, lacey red lingerie set you got yourself a little while back. Scarlet garters hold up soft thigh highs that bring out your thighs and make your lower body look extra luscious. You take in this moment of feminine confidence. What are you? You’re a bad bitch. And what are you about do? Get fucked.
You sit prettily on your bed, take another swig of the burning drink, shake your hips in excitement, close your eyes, and make the signature meditation pose. You even put the sigil of Asmodeus on your laptop to better reach him. Look at you, doing the most. Then, you bite your lip in concentration and your buzzed brain is slow enough to focus on one thing slowly.
Asmodeus. Asmodeus. Asmodeus, are you with me? You think with intention.
Just as you thought. No answer. You continue.
Asmodeus, I know I never spoke to you in my life. I’m Y/n, I know this is silly but I don’t mind giving up some of my energy to get fucked voraciously by a demon boy. An incubus please. Is that ok?
You wait for an answer, peep at the candles. They’re just flickering normally. You try not to psych yourself into micro analyzing the movement of the little flames. Drunk you could do that all night. But you need to keep focused. Then you continue.
Hopefully it is ok, Mr. Asmodeus. I don’t know if I need to give up my blood n shit. I’m just a little drunk girl and honestly I’ve given up so much life energy to toxic exes at this point, you don’t need to warn me,, I know I’m rambling, but uh, yeah. I don’t give a fuck. But also, respectfully, make sure he wants me too. That shit’s hot. Do you even hear me at this point?
A chill up your spine stops you from thinking further. It’s such a chill that you shiver. It’s the same sensation in your nerves that you’d feel if someone ran a finger along your entire sensitive spine. Your window isn’t open.
There’s no way.
Good talk, you think. Don’t know what the fuck that was.
You sigh, keeping yourself open for answers. Maybe he’s thinking? Who knows. For a second you almost feel a little silly for getting all dressed and stuff.
Then you feel a chill up your spine, only more intense. Your hairs stand on end. It’s kind of spooky. You’re drunk though so you’re in more of a relaxed, “oh no!!! anyways” sort of mindset. But none of your windows are open and you haven’t turned on the AC all day.
You take another swig out of the bottle and your face burns. You’re sure your eyes are a bit bloodshot, face flushed. You think about what a male demon would say if he saw you. Probably something like—Put the bottle down, sweetheart.
You cackle in your mind. Sorry about that, daddy, gotta have fun.
Keep calling me that, I like it, the thought says a bit louder in your mind, purring more sexily than you’ve ever imagined a man sounding. Wait, did you make that up or are you tripping?
Dumbass.
You open your eyes again. So that was your imagination…or was it? There’s a little bit of doubt in your mind. Either way your imagination is vivid and you crack yourself up.
Damn it, you play too much, now your drunk ass can’t even tell what’s someone telepathically communicating to you and what’s you imagining someone telepathically communicating to you.
You clear your throat a little.
“Oi, am I wasting my time? Am I making this up? Give me a sign or show yourself , but don’t like scare me, or else I’m just going to sleep.” You try to speak clearly and confidently.
Your head whips around to the wall at something suddenly in your peripheral, and you notice a little area starts to glow, brighter and brighter. It’s a sigil. The same one you put on your computer moments ago. It’s very slow. Your heart feels like it’s in your fucking throat as you blink extra hard. Nope, still there. Holy fuck??
You swallow, slightly nervous besides your sense of fear being dulled down.
A gasp leaves your throat at a sudden tapping noise coming straight from the sigil. A fist punches through your wall, except not actually punching through its material. The glowing sigl must be some sort of portal. You let out a shocked squeal as the fist shakes around the air of your room. The clawed hand opens and the body attached steps out.
“The fuck was that?”
Oh lord. He’s huge. And above all else, irresistibly sexy.
The demon stands before you, towering over most of your room proudly, a wild crown of red hot hair adorning his head. The candlelight flickers wildly as he looks directly at you. His handsome features complete with sharp eyes like glowing amber surrounded by darkness, almost dragon-like. Is that…lipstick? And guyliner. Another shiver runs through you at how attracted you are to this creature from hell. You must’ve made Asmodeus laugh and scored the jackpot in return. That sharp nose.. with the pretty bumps on the side…you wonder how it would feel riding it.
He’s wearing a coat trimmed with maroon fur, that still leaves little to the imagination as his entire muscular, giant torso is bare with a sheen that accentuates carved abs, perhaps sweat because hell is hot. Black pants with chains hang low on his hips. You don’t see visible wings but are sure he can make them appear if he wanted.
Just, holy shit.
Dark maroon lips smirk. His voice is raspy, a little tired, a little indifferent, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “So…you gonna just keep staring at me all night and get off that way, or?”
You bite your lip. He’s so fucking smug. Your pussy starts pooling more wetness than already built up.
“I-well, yeah, you just appeared through my fucking wall,” you roll your eyes, not submitting so easily. “The hell did you expect?”
The demon flashes a mouth full of beautiful, dangerous teeth.
“Pretty little minx, and a smart mouth on ya too. I guess he was right it’d be worth bothering the admiral of the legions, can’t wait to fuck the brattiness out of you.”
Black, ornate trousers that appear punk and shredded to bits sway as he steps closer to your bed.
“Oh, Careful—” you warn but one of his beautiful, tall, twisty horns hits your ceiling fan, and you find it comical how a 7 foot tall demon is cursing at hitting his left horn in your room.
His eyes squint at you. “Fucking brat. Laughing at me, not even telling me your name. I could drag a rude little mortal like you to hell and eat you alive for lack of manners,” he drawls, little to no venom in his words, his voice so deep and rich you almost get lost in it for a moment. Little does he know you want him to eat you alive.
“Oh—, I mean you’re right, sorry sir,” you spit out the sorry as sarcastically as possible, “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”
He eyes your thighs clenching together and a mocking chuckle bubbles in his chest. “Name’s Kid. But you, little thing, can call me Eustass for tonight when I’m impaling you on my cock.”
A little whimper is forced out of you at how dirtily he spoke, like he made an incantation to turn you on instantly. “Eustass,” you try out, making precum drip out of him more than he’d like to admit. Your eyes flit down to his cock that he mentioned, then back up. He knows you were staring. And he’s so damn smug about it too, because the big guy’s bulge looks absolutely huge.
He looks over at the toys on your bed and scoffs, picking up your dildo, and eyeing it snarkily. Your face burns in indignation at his wolfish, leering smirk.
“Oh princess. Might as well throw these—“ he locates your trash bin, “right here. Because I’m gonna fucking ruin them for you. And you can kiss any man’s dick goodbye.” He drops your sex toys into the trash like a mic drop.
And you’re not even mad. Your thighs shift against the fabric of your bodysuit to gain any sort of friction, so turned on from imagining what’s to come.
“Yeah? You like that? I can just smell how much that turned you on. Such a pathetic, needy, desperate slut. You in heat or something?”
You can only nod your head.
He makes his way back to the bed, walking like he has all the time in the world, and you eye him for how beautiful and dangerous he is, oozing sex appeal. He also eyes you hungrily, like a starved carnivore eyeing its new living meal. Heat from hell radiates off of him, and he smells otherworldly; almost sweet; with notes of pure musk, steel, blood, leather, sweat, and desire.
(You don’t know that the pheromones you’re releasing have a similar effect on him, but he wants to make you beg and whimper; mewl, cry, break).
You take in shaky breaths, not because those fangs could rip chunks out of you if he wanted to…well, that’s hot too.
Kid grabs your bottle of whiskey from your mattress, eyeing you with pure hunger as he gets so close to you, and sets it on the floor. “That’s gonna break if it stays on your bed.” He dips his head closer to you, inhales again to smell your arousal, and his eyes roll shut.
“A-are we gonna have a safeword? I’m not paying any hospital bills if you break my body,” you finally speak up, voice pitch heightened from horniness.
He scoffs. “How fucking adorable, such a needy stupid baby, you didn’t even think before making a contract with someone who could do whatever he wants with you no?” the redhead strokes your thigh as he sounds so mean and condescending, large clawed hand gripping your upper leg, squeezing your supple flesh. His breathing is heavy. Fiery eyes peer down into your soul as he pauses.
“Spikes.” He feels your collar, humming in approval. “But just know, you signed up to be fucked. And drained.” His blackened thumb traces over your bottom lip as he holds your chin. “If you can’t handle the heat, you should know better than to booty call hell.”
“Mhmm,” you say, nodding in his hold, tongue darting out to caress his finger. Kid snarls.
Just like that, a large palm presses on your sternum and shoves you down onto the bed. He yanks you by the hips to the edge of the mattress with a bruising grip, and bucks his clothed hips into yours sharply, trouser-covered bulge slapping your pussy roughly, eliciting a whine from your throat.
“Gonna keep your neighbors up with us all night just like this,” he growls, bucking onto you, hands tracing your hips, fingers dipping under your bodysuit to caress your soaking core.
“Wet kitty, so fucking sinful.” He pulls out his fingers, separating them and admiring how your slick strings up and drips down his hand. Then, glowing eyes gaze into yours as a long, sharp, forked tongue licks your essence up, cleaning them in one stroke. You throb. He tosses his trench coat to the floor and you admire his giant, muscular body. Thick neck you want to scratch up. Giant muscles carved of porcelain and littered with scars that you want to bite and paint even prettier. A fallen angel of vermillion, ready to stab you in the dark, drag you down in lust and weeping to your personal circle of heavenly hell.
Without another word, he dips his head down and snaps the crotch of your bodysuit open leaving you with no room to think. He flattens his large, forked tongue and licks a broad, wet stripe over your sopping cunt.
“ ‘s cunny’s mine,” he breathes, and begins his attack on you with his mouth, squeezing your thighs, large tongue teasing into you.
“Yes it’s all—, ohhhh~” He pulls out and shoves two huge fingers with painted fingernails into your entrance, stretching you out and making you arch your back from the sudden stimulation, pussy smushing into his face further. He growls again, feral in nature, the vibrations going straight to your clit as he intently watches your reactions. Wide tongue lapping at your clit, swirling, making you speak in tongues and whimper at how full you are. You do not regret summoning a demon at all.
He adds a third impossibly thick finger and scissors them in and out of you, then impatiently thrusts his tongue back in to fuck you, massaging every little nook and cranny of your textured walls. Swirling up, and up, and up until your brain rots inside your skull and you’re roughly grabbing handfuls of his hair.
You hear him groan a prideful, muffled “Good girl,” as his nose bumps into your clit so snugly. Your eyes roll back at the praise. It’s too much, all of it is too much. And yet, you need more, more, more, please, please, please. His tongue hits a tender spot that makes you jolt and begins to attack it in a full-fledged assault, causing you to snap your gaze back to him and buck your hips greedily into him.
Greedy. He likes that. He likes how greedy your cunt is, because he’s just as greedy for you. Your thighs clench around his head when he shakes his face, soaked in your juices, side to side to rub your clit with his nose pressed tightly to you. “E-Eustass!” you call out for him, all strangled, and a purr rumbles in his thick chest.
In response, he only clenches your thighs tighter around his face, continuing to torture you with his pink tongue that’s long and mobile like a fucking tentacle.
You cry out as talonesque nails dig into your thighs and little pricks of blood come out, but he doesn’t care. And neither do you. You grind on him, head swimming in lust, probably only worsening the pinprick wounds. He leans back with you and completely sits down on the floor beneath, holding the entire weight of your body on top of his face with the strength of a powerful war demon.
He slides you up and down, and you tremble, spots of white flecking your vision as you ride his face, smearing your never ending slick to his insatiable delight.
His amber eyes glare at you, urging you to let go and come undone on top of him. Yet mocking you for needing to cum so soon.
And that’s what you do, shaking violently, curling over him, death grip on his scarlet tresses, as he groans at how delicious you taste. The orgasm washes over you so hard you almost fall slack, almost, as your moans fall silent from your circuits sparking. He drinks up all the essence you have to offer, lips smacking at how delicious you are, deep “Mmmhfuck” causing your nipples to perk.
He stands back up and sets you back down on the bed, unzipping his pants.
You’re lightheaded from the most amazing orgasm of your entire life, gazing at the ceiling as static fills your brain in ocean waves of dumbified pleasure.
Then your mouth gapes open at the sight in front of you. Beautifully red pubes trail right over his giant hand, fisting the biggest cock you’ve seen.
“Ngh, t-too big,” you whimper.
“Oh, I’m shocked you can speak,” he laughs darkly.
“Barely,” you try to prop yourself up on your elbows, but it’s so difficult and you fall back down.
He laughs at you, humiliating you in his stare. “Such a weak kitten,” the demon mocks you in faux sympathy.
You feel as though you nutting just now made you so insanely tired.
“Just lay back, dollface, you’re giving daddy life energy as a snack. Gonna make you even prettier, so dumb you can’t even speak.”
Before you can protest, he’s spearing you with his cockhead, ripping a loud moan from your throat.
He’s merciless, as no god has shown him, a fallen angel, any mercy. So why should he, an incubus leeching off of your sexual energy, show any mercy to a cunt that’s all his and swallows him in just right.
He continues to sink into you, and your nails pay him back by digging into him now, in his meaty forearms.
Kid’s tongue darts out over his crimson lips.
“Keep,” he thrusts out slightly, admiring the way you grip him, “fucking,” he thrusts back in all the way, making you shriek, “taking it.” The pain is so much, too much, the stretch fucking burns at how large of a cock is intruding you, but he hammers into you without regards to your comfort or pleasure. He’s the one using you, fucking you like you’re his breathing flesh light, like you’re the one working for him though he’s the escort demon. Ramming in, threatening to fuck right into your cervix, overload. You’re clamping down, your walls are rejecting him. It makes him curse loudly at how hard it is for him to move, but he’s stronger than a mere human, so ever the sadist, Kid pumps in regardless.
The pain of his unrelenting, selfish thrusts starts to turn slowly into pleasure, and the fullness and overwhelming stretch feels delicious. Your mind turns dumb and you start to whine.
“M-more,” you moan, and he grabs your tit harshly, twisting your nipple painfully, making tears rush to your eyes. He does so to the other tit, then slaps them roughly. You whimper his name, back arching like an exorcism in progress. Except exiting you, this demon is not.
“Yeah? You need some more, you selfish brat?” He growls, pace deepening and quickening. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere, not until the sun is up.” His hips snap against yours, and his nails rake down your body to fold your thighs against your chest, his crushing weight pinning you to the bed. Your mattress hitting the wall. You struggle to catch the breath that’s knocked out of you in this position.
“Fucking look at me,” he suddenly jibes, and you obediently make eye contact with him. “Now don’t you dare fucking look away or quiet those pretty noises. I want to make you scream.”
He’s going at an inhuman speed, and so fucking deep in this mating press, and hits the spot that made you cum before. His balls slapping against your ass, making you scream.
“Eustass! Eustass! Please, please, please, yes, Nnnn! Please!” You beg him to keep going, as he growls, “fuck yes, beg, princess, beg for this fucking cock,” his thrusts getting sloppier as your cunt tightens around him. Your eyes roll back a little, as he’s fucking you dumb.
“Ah!!!” You yelp, as he roughly slaps your ass.
“What did I fucking tell you?” Eustass snarls, and you bite your lip, face flushed as he glowers at you.
“T-to, to uh, look at you,” you say dumbly, gasping for air.
“That’s a smart girl,” he rubs your clit, making you squirm, and he condescendingly coos down at you, “so why don’t you look at me as I wreck you, hmm?”
His body is so big, so hot, he’s so heavy and wide as your poor legs stretch to accommodate his wide shoulders while he opens you like a flower and pounds into you. He smells so fucking good, you think, and you want him to cum inside of you and claim you as his, and you struggle but do your best to keep looking into his wild eyes. He’s absolutely feral, so intimidating, and your body rocks at his severity so you grasp the base of his horns. A little moan leaves him, and if he wasn’t pressed up so close to you, flooding up all of your thoughts and walls and senses, it would have gone undetected.
A darkness takes over his eyes. “Now you’ve fucking done it,” his voice drops ever lower, and he pulls out. Flips you over onto your hands and knees, pulls your hips to face the ceiling, and bottoms back in in one thrust. The new angle has you screaming and moaning his name, “EU—fuck!!!!” You whimper loudly, and he pushes your head down into the covers.
“Yeah—this pussy—is all—fucking mine—you hear that?” he rumbles in between thrusts, slapping your ass again as he arches your back impossibly, balls slapping your cunt. You’re too dumb to understand what he’s saying and he knows that. Your slick is everywhere between the two of you and it’s making him absolutely drunk and feral.
You’re unable to speak real words, you’re babbling and you claw the sheets as he batters your insides over and over like a battering ram. Tears and drool are soaking the covers beneath you, as you moan while you let him use you. He kneads and slaps your ass again. “Look at me.” He reminds you harshly.
You weakly turn your head to look back at him, blubbering, and his pointy, evil grin sends a jolt straight to your core again.
“You’re my fucking pet, and any man you let have this,” he makes a slicing movement with his finger over his throat. “Got it?”
You’re so gorgeous, hair plastered to your forehead and all wild, face flushed and teary, eyelashes fluttering up at him, gasping, as you whimper, “y-yes, Eustass, I belong to you,” and his deep thrusts slow luxuriously.
“Good girl,” he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up until your back meets his sweaty inferno of a chest. He rubs more circles on your puffy, abused clit and you squirm from the buzzing overstimulation of another impending orgasm. He eats up how you clench around him, and as your head spins dizzily from him still thrusting up into you deeply, he sinks his teeth into your right shoulder, claiming you.
You cry out weakly from the pain, and spasm around him like a voodoo victim and he lazily fucks you through your second orgasm, enjoying how you make a mess all over his hand.
“Oh, that’s so sexy,” he groans, lapping at the blood on your shoulder, as you squirt all over his arm, and his cock is absolutely drenched, dripping down to his balls. He moans and with a few more thrusts, stills. He fills you up with hot cum.
The giant incubus turns you both around, you still out of breath, dumb, on his cock. “Look here.” He says, like Virgil from Dante’s Inferno showing the writer the lustful circle of hell.
You peer at your reflection in the mirror. You, so fucked out, almost unrecognizable, crying, glowing, lips plump from biting them. A huge bite mark on your shoulder. Bruised hips. Both of you scratched up with a little bit of blood. Legs shaking as you’re sitting pretty on his cock, a bulge evident in your tummy. His huge hands encircling you, him, possessively overshadowing you. He’s so much bigger than you, his width eclipsing you in the reflection.
You lean your head back tiredly. He whispers lowly into your ear. “ ‘M only just getting started with you, but look at how pretty you are as my pet, yeah? This is what I’m gonna see every single night, aren’t you excited?”
You tiredly turn your head to smoosh into his pillowy chest, his smell overpowering your senses, and you look up to him. “This is all I need,” you whisper back.
He sets you down on wobbly legs and holds you up a little. He cups your jaw in his giant hand, and the white of his canines shines. His lipstick is slightly smeared. He looks gorgeous, sinister, a glowing star of red, black, amber, and pale skin.
Then he kisses you, in a way that’s startlingly soft and passionate, in his ferocious way because Eustass is, well, Eustass. He pulls away, eyes glittering darkly.
“That’s the right response, darling.”
———————————————————————-
TO BE CONTINUED 🏴☠️ -> part 2!
#[✏️] speaking in tongues#demon papí draws#eustass kid smut#eustass kid x fem reader#eustass kid x reader#one piece x female reader#one piece smut#op smut#zoro smut#sanji smut#law smut#ace smut#Luffy smut
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I need some angst with happy ending please. Am a sucker for angst and jelly harry or yn
Veiled Insecurities
read my other work here!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
word count: 1.7k
summary: Harry has some insecurities about your relationship, but instead of talking to you about them, they end up coming out in the wrong way.
warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.
a/n: thank you so much for this ask! i don't know where this idea came from, but it was a lot of fun to work through. including yelling at myself for an entire commute home trying to work out dialogue. my apologies to anyone that happened to be stuck in traffic next to me on the highway friday night. 😂
tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
The air in the car was thick with tension as you kept your eyes locked on the passing scenery, refusing to give Harry the satisfaction of glancing over at him. Neither of you had spoken a word, you were waiting for an apology. You had no idea what he could possibly be waiting for.
Harry pulled the car into the driveway, and you hopped out before he even had a chance to put it in park, slamming the door behind you.
“You didn’t let me get your door,” he commented as you made your way to the house.
You turned to him, rage burning in your eyes. “You haven’t been a gentleman all day. Why start now?”
He winces slightly at the heart wrenching combination of your words, and the disdain they were spoken with.
Today was the day of your company picnic, and Harry was actually going to be in town and was excited to go with you. He had heard so many stories about your job, and your coworkers, that he was looking forward to putting faces to all the names. One face in particular changed all of that.
The department you worked in was small, only about five or six coworkers and your boss. While you all worked closely together, your job was particularly intertwined with your coworker, Roger. You had told Harry about Roger before, his existence wasn’t a surprise to him. What was a surprise were his good looks, and how close the two of you were.
He had heard the term ‘work husband’ before, but he had never heard it more than he did at that picnic, and everyone that used it had been referring to you and Roger. He knew it was a platonic thing, that it didn’t mean anything, and he was glad that you had a support system at work. But that combined with the slight touches throughout the day had Harry seeing red.
You had noticed a shift in Harry shortly after Roger’s arrival, and it just kept getting worse, coming to a crescendo after you and Roger won the three legged race. You were so embarrassed by his behavior that you made some excuse about your limited time with Harry and left early. Much earlier than you had wanted.
Harry knew you well enough to know you were upset, so he didn’t say anything on the ride home. He knew you’d want to collect your thoughts before talking, he would let you start the conversation. And you decided to do so as soon as you were in the house.
“What the actual fuck, Harry?” You spat, finally meeting his gaze.
“Princ-”
“No,” you interrupted. “No pet names.”
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “Y/N, I think you’re overreacting.”
Your eyes went wide. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen you so rude before!”
“Only to him,” Harry mumbled. “I was fine with everyone else.”
“And there it is!” You throw your hands out in frustration. “Please tell me what is so wrong about my closest work friend.”
“Don’t you mean your work husband?” He snapped back.
“Oh my god, Harry. Seriously? You have like four work husbands!”
“Maybe,” he started. “But they aren’t all over me like he was with you!”
Your eyes went wide at his accusation. “No shit, because you’re all over them!” You run your hand down your face, trying to keep your composure. “Harry, you are the most physically affectionate person I have ever met, it’s one of the things I love about you. It also makes it incredibly hypocritical of you to have an issue with other people doing it on a significantly smaller scale.”
“But you’re my girlfriend, I didn’t like seeing another man’s hands on you.”
You stared at him in disbelief. “Who are you? This is not you. You’re not possessive like this.”
“I thought you liked when I was possessive of you?” He asked with an arched brow, trying to diffuse the situation.
“When we’re alone, and in the heat of the moment? Absolutely. But when you’re like that around other people, you come off as a toxic asshole.” A quick flicker of sadness flashed across your face. You hoped Harry didn’t notice. “Roger was excited to meet you, he’s heard so much about you.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Because I love you and I talk about you all the time.”
“Okay, well I just don’t think it’s very professional for him to be so flirty with you.” Harry shrugged.
You buried your face in your hands and took a deep breath. “You want to talk about professionalism? Part of your job is literally your sex appeal. You have women throwing themselves at you on a regular basis. You’re basically one step above stripper the way you dress and dance around on stage.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up your hand as you continued on. “Every fan hug that lingers a little longer than it should, every girl that calls you daddy, or tries to shoot their shot with you at a show, every bra thrown in your face; I take it all in stride and I don’t let it get to me. Do you want to know why? Because I love you, and I trust you completely. I know you would never do anything. It absolutely breaks my heart that you think so little of me and my commitment to you that you don’t extend me the same courtesy.” Before he could fully process your words, you turned your back to him and stormed away, slamming the door to your bedroom shut.
The tears had barely begun to fall before Harry was knocking on the door. “Y/N?”
“Go away, Harry.” You couldn’t help the waiver in your voice.
You prayed that Harry didn’t hear it, but he did. And it felt as though his heart had shattered, he had made you cry. He had made you cry, and you were trying to hide it from him. He knew that you would often mask your pain as anger, not wanting to give people the satisfaction of seeing your tears. Because of his actions, you had put up a wall with him. You didn’t want to be vulnerable, and it was his own fault. He couldn’t blame you, this whole thing had blown so far out of proportion and he needed to make it right.
He opened the bedroom door and entered slowly. You were sitting on the side of the bed, elbows on knees, you looked over to Harry, and his breath hitched. Your cheeks were already tearstained, your eyes red-rimmed.
“Y/N,” he said softly, taking a seat beside you and raising his arms. Before he could get them around you, you slid out of his reach. He looked up at you with pain in his eyes.
“No,” you said sternly. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to comfort me right now. You’re the reason this happened, you don’t get to ride in here on your white horse and hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay.”
He nodded silently and looked down at the floor. “I do trust you,” Harry finally broke the awkward silence. “This was never about me not trusting you. I know that you love me, and I trust you implicitly.” He turned his head to look at you. “It’s not even about not trusting Roger. I just…” He let out a deep breath. “I saw how close the two of you are, and it reminded me that you have this whole life that I’m just on the outside of because I’m always away.”
He turned, sitting with his legs crossed on the bed so that he could face you. “I wasn’t jealous because I thought he was going to try something, I was jealous because he gets to see you everyday, because you two have a closeness that I’m afraid you and I can’t have.”
You finally look up at Harry, the frustration in his eyes now replaced with concern. “Harry,” you turned, mirroring the way he was sitting. “I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been with anyone.”
“I know, I believe that. And it means the world to me.” He reached out tentatively to take your hand. Letting out a relieved breath when you didn’t pull away. “You’ve been so incredible, you’ve completely thrown yourself into my world. My family loves you, you’re practically a member of the tour staff. I want to be that for you, but I’m never able to be here long enough.”
“Why haven’t you ever told me this before?” You squeezed his hand gently.
He lifted your joined hands to his lips. “I guess I never really realized how much it bothered me until today.”
“Well first of all,” you started. “The tour isn’t going to last forever. It’s going to end, and then you’ll have some time off. I would like to think that you’ll come and spend some of that time with me.”
“Definitely,” he agreed. “As much as I can.”
“So that’s when you’ll be able to mix in with my life more.” You explained. “We just have to take turns being in each other’s lives. Right now, you’re all over the world, so I have to make a little more of an effort to meet you halfway. When you’re on break, it will be your turn. By the time you go back on the road, or whatever you do next, it will be more of an even playing field. It just seems imbalanced now because we haven’t had time to even it out.”
“I’m so sorry, angel.” He apologized. “Are we okay?”
“We’re okay,” you nodded. “But next time, if you’re feeling insecure, just pull me aside and talk to me.” You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you, Harry.”
“I love you too,” he replied, burying his face in your neck. “Princess?” You hummed in reply as you ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Do you really think I’m one step above stripper?”
You chuckled, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Maybe two.”
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles headcanon#harry styles angst#harry's house#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry edward styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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-ADRONITIS Featuring Childe
Meaning: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house
Word Count: 2.3k~
Description: Childe is helping you train and decides to show off his foul legacy form only to decide to fuck you
Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach
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You were exhausted. You had been hiking to the top of what was probably a mountain, and somehow, you had the eleventh most powerful member of the Fatui walking alongside you. You still weren’t sure how you had been afforded the opportunity to speak with Childe, but my god were you glad you got to. For the past month or so, you had been spending the majority of your free time training with Childe.
Frankly, you had no idea how you had managed to swing that, but you were damn grateful that you had. It was all thanks to a seemingly innocuous comment you had made about hoping to one day be as strong as him the first time you two had spoken. You honestly still weren’t sure why he had decided to speak to you of all people. There would be no reason for him to have noticed you…right?
But unbeknownst to you, Childe had been watching you for quite some time before he had even decided to speak to you. You had caught his eye with your ability to best practically any recruit that you sparred against and the fact that any missions you were a part of were always successful. He was initially just fascinated by how someone who looked as weak as you did was able to beat all of the tall, muscly boys and girls of the Fatui. However, over time, he found himself getting excited to catch glimpses of you, whether you were sparring or not, so when he finally decided he wanted to speak to you and you mentioned wanting to become as strong as him, he jumped at the chance to offer you his penis guidance.
“Are we almost there?”
At the moment, Childe had decided to help you with your endurance training and took you to what he called a “small hill”, but realistically, it felt like a mountain.
Childe gave you a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, comrade. We’re almost at the top.”
You felt a little wave of relief flow through you.
Your hike continued with the two of you in comfortable silence until, finally, you reached the top of the ‘hill’. You flopped down onto the grass. You could see why he called it a hill, but by the sheer size of it, you thought that it could be considered a mountain. Childe stood by you as you caught your breath and recovered.
“Alright, are you ready to spar?”
Your stomach dropped. He wanted to spar? With you? You were going to die.
Childe chuckled at the apparent fear on your face.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”
You considered it for a moment. It would be interesting to fight him. It would probably help you improve too. You could also see how well you could stand up to his skill.
“…Okay.”
Childe grinned before offering you his hand and pulling you up. Childe pulled two practice swords out of god knows where and handed you one. You both got into a fighting stance.
“Are you ready?”
“I guess.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”
He winked at you, and you lunged forward at him. He easily parried your attack, and you two began your dance.
You were surprised that you were actually managing to hold your own a good ways into the fight, and you thought you might last a while longer, until Childe decided to take it up a notch and start using his delusion. Fuck.
You had a vision yourself, so it wasn’t like the fight was imbalanced in that way, but adding a delusion? That was just unfair.
The fight continued, and while you had taken a few hits, you were still going. Childe was thoroughly enjoying himself, and while he was holding back his true strength, he was still curious to see how you would react if he unleashed his full power on you. He wanted to see you try and fight against his overwhelming power, when realistically, there was no way you could put up any meaningful fight. He also kind of just wanted to show off for you, but that’s not important.
“Why don’t I show you what I’m truly capable of, comrade!”
You were somehow convinced that you might actually have a chance of beating the harbinger before he had said that. Then, all of a sudden, he started rising from the ground in a spiral of water, and in a flash, he was covered in new armour, and he had grown much, much taller. You had heard rumours of this transformation before. It was called “foul legacy”, was it not? You had heard that it made him grow all the way to 9’6, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t heard girls speculating on uh, what else grew.
Of course, facing him like this now, the most prominent thoughts in your head were “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I’m so fucking dead.”
Childe let off a few attacks, and you were dodging them the best you could. Of course, you were too terrified to realize that he was purposefully attacking in predictable ways and leaving himself open for attacks, should you develop the bravery.
He loved this. The rush of fighting and the gratification of fighting someone that he knew he could crush in an instant. That isn’t to say you weren’t strong, of course, you had exceeded Childe’s expectations, but he was just so much stronger. He was starting to get a little worked up, watching the way your body was moving. All of the adrenaline and endorphins rushing through his body were making you look even better than usual. Besides, you definitely didn’t look bad in the little shorts and t-shirt you had worn for the hike.
Finally, after ten or so minutes of dodging various attacks of his, you decided to strike back at him. You swung your sword at his chest, but before it could meet its mark, your blade stopped mid air. You looked for what had stopped your swing, and you saw Childe’s massive, armoured, clawed hand holding your sword. Within the same moment, you felt him yank on your sword, causing you to slam into his body, your head barely reaching his stomach. He reached an arm down around your shoulders to keep you there. Childe felt his breath grow heavier as he pressed you against himself.
“You’ve fought admirably. I’ve enjoyed this fight. Why don’t I repay you?”
You hadn’t realized how his voice had changed, and it was making you feel a certain way… no, no you need to focus. You struggled fruitlessly in his grip.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that I want to make you feel good, comrade.”
There’s no way he meant…no, not right now. It wasn’t possible.
“Come now, I’ll do all the work. Just let me fuck you.”
You turned bright red. Well, bright redder.
“Uh, I mean if you wanted to maybe do something tonight, we could uh… maybe do something, if you actually want to…”
“Not later. Now.”
“But…”
“Do you not want to?”
“No, I do…I definitely do… I just… it won’t work unless you change back first, right?”
“I’ll make it work.”
You could hear the smile in his voice. He loosened his grip on your shoulders, but before he could do anything else, you shot backwards instinctively. Childe immediately got back into a fighting stance. Well, it didn’t look like the fight was over yet. He attacked, and this time, you barely made it out unscathed. Now that he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you, Childe was determined to get you in his arms and on his cock.
After another attack from Childe and a few failed parries, you somehow managed to trip over your own feet and fall backwards, hitting the ground hard and knocking the wind out of yourself. Childe chucked at your misstep and took the opportunity to pick you up, pull off your shorts and underwear and hold you up against his chest with one of his arms, making you wrap your legs around him. Childe pulled off one of his gloves before tossing it to the ground and pushing two of his big fingers into your mouth. You were already so worked up just from how much bigger than you Childe was, and feeling his big fingers in your mouth only added to that. He pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth until he decided he was ready to reach down and push them inside of you. His fingers felt so big. You were terrified of how big his cock was going to be. He kept fucking you, eventually adding another two fingers, doing his best to prep you. Finally, when he thought you were ready enough, he undid his belt, letting it drop to the grass before undoing his pants and pulling out his cock. You could feel his cock hit against your back, and a wave of fear flowed through you, but you were far too committed to whatever was going to happen next to back out now.You blushed, looking up at him, and then you realized that he still had his mask on. Wanting to see his face, you reached up to try to move it. Your attempt was fruitless. Childe laughed before pulling off his mask for you.
He lifted you up, hands firmly on your waist, and that’s when you saw his cock. Your eyes popped out of your head. It looked like it was almost as big as your arm. There was no way that was going to fit in you. Childe lined himself up with you so he could start bringing you down onto his monstrous cock. Childe pulling you down mixed with simple gravity let him push into you without much resistance from you writhing around. You yelped at the pain. It felt like he was going to rip you in two if he went in any farther, but of course, that didn’t stop him. Childe was slowly pushing inside of you as you whined about how it was too big and how you couldn’t take it, tears streaming down your face. But Childe just shushed you and stroked his thumb along your hip, telling you that you can handle it.
Eventually, you were as full as you could get, despite Childe attempting to fit more of himself inside of you. After all, you only had more than half of him buried in you.
As much as it hurt to have something so big inside of you, you had never felt so full in your life. It just felt so good.
Childe waited until you had adjusted the best you could to the size of his cock before he started bouncing you on it, doing his best to not push too far with each thrust. Your mind was blank. The only thing you could think about was how fucking good it felt to have this massive man fucking you like you were a toy.
You could hear Childe moaning at how good you felt around him, and it was music to your ears. His voice was so deep now that it gave you butterflies whenever he spoke.
“How does it feel, comrade? Do you feel good? Am I making you feel good?”
You couldn’t formulate a response. You just let out a moan and a little squeak when he brought you down too hard.
“Have you gone dumb on my cock already? That’s too bad. I thought you would be able to endure it better, but I suppose this is really what you’re good at hmm? Being a toy for me?”
You weren’t paying any attention to whatever he was saying because you were so close to cumming around Childe’s massive cock. Fuck, it just feels so good.
With a little shout, you came and were seeing stars. Feeling you spasm around his cock was all Childe needed to cum along with you. He filled you up with his cum, and it was dripping out of you, even with his cock still inside of you. You were out of breath and were waiting for Childe to lift you off of his cock when you realized something. Was he still hard? You looked up at him, eyes wide.
“I’m not done yet. I have to see how much I can really fill you up.”
And with that, he was fucking you again, just as hard and just as fast. He was gripping your sides so tightly that you were convinced that his still-gloved hand had managed to draw blood, but you didn’t care enough to stop him and make him take it off.
Before too long, you were cumming around him once again. Your vision flashed white, and everything blurred together for a moment as the euphoria rushed through your body. Childe smiled as he kept bouncing you on his cock, not giving you a moment to rest.
It went on like that for almost another hour. You were barely conscious when Childe finally lifted you off of his cock and set you down on the grass. He transformed back to normal before watching for a moment as his cum flowed out of you onto the grass. He knelt next to you and pressed on your lower stomach, making even more cum run out of you. After a minute or two, he wiped the cum and little bit of blood off of you and slipped your shorts back onto your limp body. He lifted you up in his arms and gave you a little kiss on your lips before starting the hike back to his home at the Fatui compound.
As far as he was concerned, now you were his, and he was going to treat you as well as he possibly could.
Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez
morbific-or-felicific.
#mae.melts🧊*•̊ⴰ✧#childe.❣︎•*✧ ̊ⴰ#mae’s daily paper☕️*•̊ⴰ✧#this killed my editor so i hope you guys like ittttt#and i know that foul legacy takes it the fuck out of him but this is just for the fun goofy sex times#childe x reader#foul legacy x reader#childe smut#foul legacy smut#genshin smut#genshin x you#genshin x reader#gn reader
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Task force 141! Gangster x Reader
Truth or Pain
This is part 3. Part 2
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You’re hanging out with Soap again and he watches you work on a your newest piece. You enjoy moments like these. You feel like yourself, and like you aren’t forcing your part. Soap was impressed with your skill. You were very good with your hands, and your work was great demonstration.
“You want to try?” You offer Soap a brush.
“You think I can make somethin as good as you?” He asks taking up your offer.
“Try it.” You say. A small voice in the back of your head suggests getting him on vandalism but you ignore it. He takes the brush and adds a bit of colour to wall… in the form of a very crude doodle of himself.
You finally take a break with him, warming your hands on the hot cup of cocoa.
“So what exactly do you guys do? Like I’ve seen you guys work but… I don’t get it.” You say, breaking the silence.
Soap thinks for a moment before answering. “We do what needs to be done.”
When he looks at you to see your reaction he finds you silently asking for more details.
“The Los Voqueros sell medicines. Simple stuff that’s not easy to afford. Painkillers, allergy meds. Ya know Farah, woman that ‘elped ‘ide us when those cops tried to grab us? She’s a bit of a vigilante, keepin some big corporation from ruin’in her neighbourhood.
“The problems with the world canna be solved by cops and white collars. They don’a’ven want to. We do. We set the world right, and we ‘ven ave a little fun on the side.”
He gives you a soft elbow to the arm. You smile. But underneath there’s a few things going on you’re not telling him. He’s given you two statements. One that can be used on Farah Karim, for aiding two criminals. The other could start a hunt for the Los Voqueros and their shipments of drugs. It wasn’t what you had been sent to find but it was a start. You might actually be taken seriously at the precinct, people might actually start having faith in your abilities. But… Farah had shown you and a few others kindness and trust. Her neighbourhood was constantly being targeted for demolition and businesses. You knew how expensive medications and drugs could be, you had needed them before yourself. As you sat there continuing to sip your warm drink, you started to ask yourself if this was truly what you wanted to do. The cops were bringing down people who were just trying to help. Sure they clubbed and partied on the side but hell, who doesn’t take some personal time?
You decide to keep the information to yourself for now, after all, Graves would only ask for a report on Soap and Ghost. Farah and Alejandro weren’t the priority.
You think back to your father. He was trying to help too. But it got him killed. You couldn’t let a bunch of gangs run free just because they were trying to help. The man sitting next to you had killed people before. He beat up good cops, stole shipments of drugs, and made it difficult for businesses to expand and grow the economy.
The rest of the day goes by fairly casually. You don’t give Graves anything on Soap, because well, he hadn’t given you anything. Nothing you could prove. Graves is frustrated, but he’s honestly too tired to care and leaves soon after.
A few more weeks go by and try to keep tabs on everything you can. The Los Vaqueros approved of the artwork you came up with, and now they were deciding where they wanted it. Hopefully they would give you a chance to be alone to work on it and you could find more evidence. Soap had mentioned helping with recent shipments so maybe you could get something from there.
The location was an old and empty warehouse, practically deserted. Alejandro and Rudolfo went with you to the location to show you where they wanted it.
It was more like where they wanted you though. Next thing you know, Rudolfo has you pinned against the wall while Alejandro is yelling questions.
“What are you looking for?”
“The fuck are you talking about?!” You yell. Rudolfo holds you tighter by your jacket. “Why are you here? What the fuck you want?!” Alejandro is pissed, but you have to stay quiet. You can’t give them anything.
“For the fucking mural! You asked me to!” You choke out. Rudolfo is ordered to drop you and you hit the floor, coughing.
Alejandro is nowhere close to being done with you. A good man he may be, but with traitors? Few could tell you how that went.
You’re met with a boot against your ribs as a warning.
“Why are you really here… out with it.” He warns.
“I don’t kno-“ before you can finish you get the wind kicked out of you.
“You know damn well why you’re here…tell me now.” He orders. Rudolfo keeps an eye out while Alejandro continues interrogating you.
“What are you talking about?!” You manage after regaining some air. He holds up his phone and shows a photo of you… in uniform.
“What are you looking for?” He asks. There’s some lenience as he lets you get to your hands and knees. Alejandro helps you stand by grabbing you and pinning you to the wall again. You try to kick him off, your heart pounding in your chest and ears ringing in your head.
“Start talking!”
“I don’t know what you mean!”
“I know you’re a fucking cop!” He yells. “You’re undercover! I know you are, so start talking! Who else is undercover? What are you trying to find?!”
“Get off!” You yell back. At this point you’d have enough evidence for assault, but right now you were fighting to remain an assault victim.
“Not until you tell me who else is undercover with you.” Alejandro demands, you get punched in the gut making you cough. “Tell me and you walk away!”
“I…don’t…” another hit, this one to the face. There’s footsteps but you barely notice them. He grabs you by the jaw and gets close.
“Talk and I won’t tell Soap… you walk away and nothing happens…”
“…I’m a cop…” you admit. You were scared. You didn’t know how he knew. You weren’t supposed to say anything. When he brought up Soap though… Soap was the only one who seemed to put any trust in you. Losing that would hurt more than anything Alejandro could do to you.
“Where are your partners? Who are they?” Alejandro asks, his rage reducing a bit. Before you can answer though you hear a thick Scottish accent shouting and Alejandro pulled off of you.
You fall back to the ground and see Soap and Alejandro arguing with Rudolfo nearby trying to break them apart. You can barely make out what they’re saying, but eventually two hands grip your arms and help you to your feet just as Soap turns to you.
“Come on kid.” You hear a deep British voice say and you look to see Ghost is holding you, and lead you out of the warehouse while Soap follows not long after.
Ghost gets you to a car, telling you to get in the back which you do and you sit patiently for Soap to come along and sit in the passenger’s seat. They don’t say anything to you, just start driving.
As they get on the road Soap speaks up.
“Where we takin the cop?” He asks.
Your heart plummets when he says it. The way he says it tells you he’s pissed. With you.
“I’m taking Y/N to a hide out. The boss can deal with them.” Ghost said.
Soap looks back at you in the rear view and you look away. Not out the window, but more at the door. Your body was sore from Alejandro, and you were tired. You were too nervous to fall asleep.
When you get to the hideout, you sit up so Ghost can open the door. He jerks his head signalling for you to get out of the vehicle, and you do, keeping your head down. You can’t look at either of them.
Ghost leads you inside with Soap following behind you. He opens the door telling you to sit down, before stopping Soap from going inside and shuts the door.
“The fuck is this?” Soap asks annoyed.
“You’re emotional MacTavish.” Ghost tells him.
“Have fuckin right to be. We trusted ‘em and-“
“They were doing their job.” Ghost finishes the sentence.
“They used us.”
“You knew this was possible… like father like child.” Ghost reminds him. Soap is still pissed and kicks the ground hard in frustration. Ghost just folds his arms, and leans in front of the door frame letting Soap get his colourful Scottish phrases rattle off while tossing and kicking anything he could get his hands on.
You can hear them from outside and you consider running off, running away and not looking back. Soap and his men had given you a chance, a chance you had been waiting for. Soap was your friend, and he would defend you to no end. Any of his men tried to get handsy or get too drunk and go off he was beside you, jabbing back at them. He talked you up to Rudy and Al, assured Farah you were a good person, kept you close to his side… you start to wonder if it had all been for the case, or if you had done it because you felt like you were a part of something for once.
Ghost soon comes back inside, Soap is nowhere to be seen.
“You broken?” He asks. You fight your tears and shake your head.
“Take your jacket off and roll up your shirt.” He orders. You slowly stand and do as he says, showing a couple bruises. Ghost sighs and gets an ice pack from his freezer handing it to you along with a rag. You take it already knowing what to do, while he pulls up a chair and sits in front of you.
“What’s your name?” He asks.
“Y/n… y/n l/n.” You say shifting a little as you placed the ice pack to one of the bruises.
“…you’re a cop.” He says. You nod, despite the statement being rhetorical.
“Soap was aware that could be the case… given your father.” He says. You look at Ghost.
“You…”
“We knew your dad. All of us, including the boss. Good man.” He said as if trying to end the discussion. You two sat in silence for a bit while you mulled over what he said. Your father was a cop, did he do the same thing? Go undercover? Did Graves know?
“Keep the pack.” Ghost says standing up. You follow him to the car and he takes you back to your apartment. Before you exit the car he gives you a piece of paper.
“Text this for a ride.” He says. You take it.
“Could you tel-“
“No.” He says. “Tell Soap yourself.”
You nod and leave the car and go inside to your apartment. It’s late, almost midnight and god knows how long Graves has been waiting.
You knock on your own door and Graves soon opens it. When you walk in you hardly pay him any mind as he’s demanding to know where you’ve been. He keeps asking even while you’re getting some painkillers for your soreness and now headache from Graves.
“Nothing happened.” You say.
“Somethin happene-“
“Nothing… got into a fight that was it.” You say.
“You start it?” He asks.
“…no.”
“Who did?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter sergeant, now start talking!”
“I don’t know anything!” You yell. Your whole body tensed as it felt like you were at the warehouse getting questioned again. You flinched when he got closer. You clenched your fists digging the nails into your palms.
“Sergeant this is getting ridiculous. I have half a mind to take you off this case.”
“Then do it…” you mutter. At this point you don’t care. You’re in pain and this case made everything you had started to care for fall apart. What had Graves honestly done except tell you, you weren’t ready and remind you of the expectations you had being your father’s kid? Soap knew your dad, and never once reminded you of living up to him.
“What?” Graves looks at you stunned.
“Do it. Take me off the case. It’s probably for the best.” You say shrugging. Graves looks at you pressing his lips together. He shook his head.
“Your fath-“
“I don’t give a fucking damn about my father or how I’m his disappointment of a kid okay? You’re right I’m a fucking joke being his kid.”
“I’ve given you a chance to prove yourself!” Graves argues.
“And what have I done? Nothing! I’m a glorified tagger that’s what you said right?! Fine! Then I’ll be one! You gonna arrest me then?” You’re staring him down now. He just looks back, hiding his surprise. If Graves was being honest, he was tempted to do so.
“…I’ll be back in the morning.” He says and leaves your apartment. As soon as the door closes your pain opens. You’re hurting, he can tell. Something happened that scared you and that’s all he sees. He doesn’t know what’s going on deeper. The act was working but on him. The act of joining a gang in order to get closer, but that wasn’t an act to you. Not anymore. You clean yourself up, apply ice to your bruises, and stare at your father’s badge. How much did he know? How much did any of them know? You keep asking questions the whole night.
Price is sitting at a booth in a restaurant going over some paperwork when Johnny strides over and sits in the booth across from him. Price finishes the sentence he was reading and looks up.
“You knew this could happen.” Price says calmly.
“Don’t fuckin remind me…” Soap grumbles.
“How is l/n?” Price asks. “Simon told me he sent her home.”
“He did… Alejandro got to her before I ever could.” Soap comments.
“Yeah well, from what you told me, she won’t be for long. She has my number and if she was talking cops would be knocking.”
“Now what?” Soap asks.
“We wait.” Price tells him.
Taglist : @H0n3y_L3m0n
#cod au#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#task force 141 x reader#alejandro vargas#rudolfo parra#captain john price#cod gangster au#gangster au#phillip graves
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Getting exponentially tired of the “elriels want 👹” posts in the elain tags where they proceed to either A) outright invent stuff B) act holier than thou about how they care so much for Elain because they C) misconstrue the little they hear from our side in bad faith, or D) just completely miss the point they’re addressing.
it’s one thing to be bitter about a ship, but geez theyre getting mad at generalizations they made up about what we think. it has to be tiring. non?
small rant beneath, just to vent. yes i know i can (& should) block certain tags, but reading frustrating content is a hobby of sorts.
Im genuinely convinced all these “ewriel”-myths they keep talking about are a result of a bad game of telephone—they hear a random thing a gwynriel says, go “they’re all stupid/delusional/immature (insult of choice) so i don’t doubt what you’re saying”, then repeat it to others.
It’s obvious by the way they wholeheartedly believe that Elain is our puritanical-warrior-self-insert we use to vicariously F Azriel (😃✋). Doesn’t help that they usually don’t look as deeply into Elain as we do & tend to get stuck on obviously superficial statements about her: they cannot seem to fathom an Elain that isn’t just a once-bright socialite wilting away sans her sun-mate. So any hint of darkness/savviness we see in her is just us moulding her into Y/N. sigh
anyways.
I can say i’ve read their posts on here, a ton prior to being involved and some now. I’ve seen their tiktoks & video essays, their powerpoints & reddit posts. i’ve seen their comments all over insta/tiktok (kinda hard to miss, they jump on elriel content with their “um shadows and um pliable bones and mates!!” comments). I am WELL aware of what the general consensus is on that side—which is why I am generally unbothered by GA, don’t mind EL, and am just peacefully sailing aboard my ship waiting for it to reach destination.
And because I care about Elain’s journey, I try to see the story the way they do when i encounter certain elucien arguments. For if i am to even just privately engage in the sHip wArs, i know to remain ✨critical✨ and ✨open minded✨.
… there’s no point turning discussions into angry posts against imaginary adversaries.
EVERY elriel i’ve talked to would read an elucien book because it is Elain’s story we are most anticipating. It’s just very telling to me that very few would do the same; that there’s not a whiff of willingness from most of them to listen to the other side.
The funny thing is that all those anti eWrieL posts** i’ve read tend to address twisted versions of “the elriel narrative.” They take things out of context, or say we have the same 3 arguments—which is genuinely insane bc if you know our ship so well, how can you be off by like 2 orders of magnitude ??? (exaggerating if it wasn’t clear, we can’t know these days).
** Their pro GA content reads very anti-Az, used to be very anti-elain, and has a narrow scope ngl. While the bonus matters, it seems like that is ALL they’ve read. They don’t think much about Elain’s journey or powers or decisions, which is just logically not the best way to analyze the series given she IS what’s to come.
✨Just some common myths they believe✨:
they repeatedly claim that elriels want poor elain to be a kickass warrior torturer to fit Az because they A) don’t actually read our stuff B) enjoy thinking we hate elain, and C) can’t fanthom that spying isn’t 007 ninja activities.
apparently we ship elriel because we think they have this big great romance OFF PAGE 😭. how in the hell— i’ll make a post on this one istg it’s lowkey funny. quick, were nessian strangers and unfeeling towards each other at the start of SF ???? damnit i must’ve missed that.
En tout cas. End of rant the rest stays in the drafts lmao.
but istg one day i’ll cave in and unleash the essays of rebuttals and psychoanalyses of their arguments / thought processes just for shit and giggles.
#rant#might (will) delete later#acotar ship war#elain archeron#pro elain#elriel#pro elriel#anti gwyn/riel
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Papa Bear Material Ch 5 - (Captain Price Fic) Background Check
Chapter 1 Chapter 1 (Shorter Version) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 (Last Chapter)
Summary: Y/N is a reserved former constable and master sniper in the London police force, now working full-time as an artisan. She reconnects with old colleagues at a grill house for a catch-up, where her former junior, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, tries to play matchmaker. Gaz’s attempt to set her up with the retired SAS and Papa Bear material, Captain John Price, is met with resistance as Y/N is caught off guard by the unexpected attention. @darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal(To the other’s who want me to tag you when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments)
Warning: Mention of abuse
A quick A/N:
Before jumping to the conclusion that Y/N’s victory was unrealistic or labeling her a "Mary Sue," it’s important to note that her win is grounded in practical, researched tactics. Y/N is an SCO19 sniper with urban warfare expertise—an environment where methodical planning and familiarity with tight, complex spaces trump brute force or traditional military tactics. Her role emphasizes precision, adaptability, and outthinking her opponents, which made her success plausible in this exercise.
On the other hand, Captain Price is a seasoned veteran with broad expertise, but his experience as a generalist operator wasn’t perfectly suited to the specialized demands of urban combat in this scenario. He underestimated how critical environmental mastery and sniper strategy were to the outcome, which reflects real-life situations where even the most skilled operators can be outmaneuvered in domains outside their specialty.
P.S.: I looked into this a lot (and spent time watching actual combat exercises) so I could make it as realistic as possible. 😊
Background Check
The faint buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Price sat at his desk, staring at the screen of his computer, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The glow from the monitor cast a pale light on his furrowed brow as he replayed the events of the exercise in his head. He had lost, and not just in the way a typical soldier loses a battle. No, this loss gnawed at him in a way he wasn’t used to. It wasn’t just about tactics. It was about the person on the other side—Y/N.
He hadn’t seen it coming. The way she maneuvered her team, the way she used the urban environment like it was a living, breathing thing. Price, a seasoned veteran with more combat experience than most men could dream of, had been outwitted by a sniper whose reputation, he now realized, was far more than just a title. She was a specialist in a way that went beyond his initial expectations.
Underestimated, huh? He thought with a grimace, his gaze falling to the glass in front of him. He’d poured himself a drink earlier, though it felt more like a reflection of his frustration than anything else. He downed the whiskey in one smooth motion, the burn of it doing little to ease the tension in his chest.
His mind wandered to the way Y/N had handled herself—stoic, calculated, always thinking three steps ahead. She had been quiet during the entire exercise, a stark contrast to the boisterous, competitive atmosphere around her. That quiet precision, though… that was what set her apart. A trained sniper who knew how to stay hidden, blend into her environment, and take her shots at the perfect moment. She was more than just a "tortoise," she was a master at urban combat, a niche so many seasoned veterans struggled to adapt to.
But what irked him even more than losing was the mystery around her. No one in the unit seemed to know much about her personal background. On the surface, Y/N was just like any other operator—quiet, focused, and deadly in her own right. But it was the little things that made her stand out. She was incredibly dedicated to her team, always putting others first, making sure everyone was covered and watching each other’s backs. In a way, she was more dependable than anyone he’d ever worked with.
Her work ethic was impeccable—Y/N had a way of getting the job done without fuss or fanfare. She didn’t need to prove anything to anyone, yet she constantly exceeded expectations, even when the odds were stacked against her. Her teammates respected her for that, and though she wasn’t one for idle conversation or personal revelations, they could always count on her to show up when it mattered.
Still, despite the respect she commanded, there was something distant about her. She kept to herself, didn’t share much about her past, and preferred to stay out of the spotlight. She had no need for recognition, no desire to be celebrated. Her actions spoke louder than any words ever could, and that was the way she liked it.
But for someone like Price, who was used to reading people, that lack of transparency only made her more intriguing. He’d been around long enough to know when there was more to someone than met the eye. And Y/N? She was a puzzle—one he was determined to solve.
----------
Subject: Background Inquiry - Y/N (SCO19)
To: [Recipient Name] CC: [Relevant Personnel]
Body:
I need you to dig into the file for Inspector Y/N, codename "Tortoise." I know the clearance restrictions on her record—believe me, I'm well aware—but I have my ways of bypassing that. The thing is, she’s been in this game a lot longer than anyone's let on. I’ve seen her in action, and if I’m honest with myself, I’ve underestimated her. Urban warfare is her domain, and from what I’ve seen, she’s more than just a sniper. She’s tactical, calculated... and frankly, she’s left me rethinking everything I thought I knew about this line of work.
I need everything—her previous deployments, training, any contracts or associations with PMC units, and anything that might explain what makes her tick. I’ve got a feeling there’s more to her than meets the eye, and I don’t intend to keep looking the other way. She’s got a certain... presence, and it’s time I understood what drives her.
Be discreet about this—no issues with clearance or security. You know the drill.
Regards, Price
----------
As soon as Price hit send, he leaned back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him more than the usual operational headaches. He had a habit of never letting anything—especially people—slip under his radar, but this was different. Y/N was different. It wasn’t just her tactical expertise that had caught his attention; it was something intangible, the way she operated with quiet precision, and how her mind seemed to anticipate every move before it happened.
He shook his head, trying to focus. But that damn patch she wore—the snapping turtle patch—kept coming back to his thoughts. The way her team rallied behind her, despite her quiet demeanor, spoke volumes. They clearly respected her, even if she didn’t show it. And then there were the glimmers of a deeper edge beneath her calm exterior—a sniper who didn’t just take the shot, but took the time to understand her environment and her enemy. " That’s something I can respect."
But then there was the matter of what had happened during the training exercise. He thought he was winning—had been winning, until it all came crumbling down with one last sweep. Her team had used the environment to their advantage—exactly how she’d been trained. And she? She’d been silent, invisible in the chaos, only to hit him square in the head when he’d least expected it.
He poured himself a glass of whisky, staring at the amber liquid. "No one had ever gotten the drop on me like that," he thought, taking a slow sip. He’d been fighting in these kinds of environments for years, but here she was, operating with a kind of patience and intuition he couldn’t shake. There was something compelling about that, something that made him want to know more. "Maybe I need to rethink my own game. "
As the glass clinked gently back on the desk, Price exhaled slowly. He’d sent the email—he’d find out what he could about her background. The more he knew, the better.
The sharp buzz of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He picked it up quickly, eyes scanning the message.
[Recipient Name]: I’ll look into it, sir. I’ll be discreet. Should have something for you within the next 24 hours or less. Don’t worry about the clearance, I’ll handle it.
Price stared at the screen for a long moment, his thumb hovering over the reply button. He considered typing something back, but decided against it. No need to overcomplicate things just yet.
---------- As Captain Price sits back, nursing a glass of whisky in his office, the chime of a new email cuts through the quiet of the night. He straightens, his gaze narrowing as he clicks open the message.
----------
Subject: Preliminary Information – Y/N (Codename: "Tortoise")
From: [Recipient Name] To: Commander John Price Date: [Insert Date, 00:10 AM] CC: [Relevant Personnel] Priority: High
Body:
Commander,
Here is the preliminary information on Inspector Y/N, as requested. This is a brief summary, but the full records are still being processed. I will ensure everything is pulled through, but here’s what we have so far:
Family Background: Y/N was born in Portsmouth, raised by a former Royal Navy officer who became an MI5 operative. Her father’s career gave him certain leverage, both in the Navy and with intelligence services. While there is some indication of her mother being complicit in the abuse, details are scarce.
Domestic Abuse Incident: There’s a documented case regarding domestic violence within the household. Social services were involved in the past, though much of the intervention was limited due to the father’s influence.
Missing Persons Report (Age 14): A police record from when she was a teenager indicates a missing persons report filed after a violent argument with her father.
- Missing Persons Reports (Age 14–19)
Frequency: Three documented incidents. Reason: Reports filed by concerned third parties (school staff, neighbors, or local authorities) after witnessing escalating domestic disturbances or after Y/N was seen leaving home for extended periods following physical or verbal altercations. Outcome: Each report ended with Y/N either being found staying with friends or local shelters. Upon investigation, she was repeatedly returned to her family home despite indications of domestic abuse, citing lack of concrete legal evidence or parental assurances. (Reports and Records as per attached)
I’ll send a follow-up once the full profile has been compiled.
----------
Price leaned back in his chair, the glow of the computer screen reflecting off his face as he read the email. His brow furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening with every word. The contents were brief but revealing—a glimpse into a past that no one had spoken of, not even in passing.
The mention of multiple Missing Persons reports spanning Y/N’s teenage years hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t just the reports themselves, but what they implied: a life lived on the edge of survival, marred by conflict long before she picked up a rifle. The term "domestic disturbances" felt sterile, almost dismissive, compared to the reality it hinted at—physical and emotional wounds that couldn’t be bandaged over.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, his usual composure slipping as he stared at the screen. Her father, a Royal Navy officer. A man who should have been a protector, but instead was the source of her suffering. And her mother, passive at best, complicit at worst. It painted a grim picture, one Price wished he could unsee.
It was personal. Too personal.
The idea of Y/N—a woman who carried herself with such quiet strength—having endured that kind of upbringing stirred something in him. Anger, yes, but also a deep sense of admiration. She hadn’t just survived; she had risen above it, carving out a place for herself in one of the most grueling professions in the world.
He glanced at the timestamp on the email. Midnight. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could read and forget about, especially not at this hour.
Price sighed, his hand drifting to the glass of whiskey on his desk. He picked it up but didn’t drink, instead letting the weight of the glass anchor him. He knew he shouldn’t dig deeper—it wasn’t his place. Yet, the thought of leaving this half-finished made his stomach twist. There was more to her story, and now he couldn’t ignore the curiosity—or the quiet protectiveness—that had taken root.
"Y/N…" Price muttered to himself, setting the glass down as the memories stirred unbidden. This wasn’t new. If anything, he’d been aware of her long before she’d proven herself in the field.
It had all started with Gaz’s cheeky attempt at matchmaking, showing Price that picture with a grin and the bold claim: “She’s your type, Captain. Strong, smart, and she’s not the kind to immediately fall for your charm. Bet you’d have to work for it.”
He’d glanced at the picture, expecting nothing remarkable, but it had stopped him in his tracks. She was a beauty— petite, but a strong profile, and a kind of quiet confidence that spoke volumes even in a still photo. Gaz wasn’t wrong; she was his type.
"Drop by her stall," Gaz had urged a week later, nudging him during a casual chat. “She’s at the she's at stall 30, Just don’t make it weird.”
Price had rolled his eyes but eventually humored the idea. He’d wandered through the rows of vendors, trying to look casual as he approached her table. And when he’d seen her in person? Hell, the photo didn’t do her justice. She was a beauty in an understated way—focused as she sorted her wares, her movements deliberate and graceful. It wasn’t just her looks, though. There was something magnetic about her presence, something that had rooted him in place longer than he’d intended.
Of course, none of that mattered when he’d tried to strike up a conversation. She’d been polite but curt, clearly uninterested in his charm or his rank. She wasn’t rude—just distant, the kind of distance that said don’t even try.
And yet, here he was, unable to let it go.
What had started as light interest had deepened into a quiet admiration, especially now. Watching her in action during the exercise wasn’t just impressive; it had been humbling. She wasn’t just competent—she was exceptional. Calculated, efficient, but fiercely protective of her team. The Tortoise nickname wasn’t just a joke; it was the way she operated, outthinking and outlasting her opponents with sharp precision.
And then there was her past. The cold, hard facts from the report still lingered in his mind, their weight pressing heavy on his chest. She wasn’t just tough—she’d had to be.
Price exhaled, a short, bitter laugh escaping him. He wasn’t sure if he admired her more for what she’d endured or for the fact that she’d let none of it define her. Either way, it made him want to know her even more—a thought that unsettled him, because this wasn’t just professional. It hadn’t been for a long time.
"Damn it, Kyle…" he thought, shaking his head. The lad had been right, and he hated it.
The screen dimmed as the email timed out, but Price remained seated, lost in thought. Some questions could wait until morning, but he doubted his mind would let him rest until he knew the whole story.
Price reached for his whiskey, staring into the amber liquid. “Well, John, you’ve stepped into it now,” he said quietly, the weight of what he’d uncovered settling heavily.
Next Chapter ------>
#Captain Price#Retired! Captain Price#Retired! John Price#Retired! Price#Captain John Price#Captain Jonathan Price#Captain Price Call of Duty#Captain Price x Reader#Captain John Price x You#Captain Price x Y/N#Captain John Price x Reader#Captain Price x OFC#Captain Price x Female Reader#John Price x You#John Price x Y/N#John Price x OC
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If we stayed connected, would I be forced to change?
TAGS: mizuena, getting together, flirting, texting, fluff and angst, 5k
SUMMARY:
Wait a second. Ena froze.
There was… there was no way she had accidentally posted that sketch of Mizuki on her social media account, was there? That was insane, she would never make such a stupid mistake, so matter how sleep-addled her brain was.
Please let it be posted to the art account, please let it be posted to the art account, Ena begged to herself. That she could deal with - hardly anyone would see it anyway, she thought bitterly.
Terrified thoughts roaring in her mind, she opened the app, frantically wishing that her internet would load faster, fuck!
And then… it loaded… and Ena sat there, aghast.
---
Or, Ena accidentally uploads an incredibly detailed sketch of Mizuki to her public social media, instead of the Nightcord server.
…and it’s not nearly as disastrous as she’d expected.
Mizuki had been acting… different, lately.
Ena chewed on the end of her pencil, brows furrowed in suspicion.
She had always been the teasing type, but she seemed to have upped the ante as of late. A little wink here, a little smirk there, just a touch more flirty than the usual. And especially with Ena.
The most irritating thing about it was that no one in Nightcord had even noticed the subtle changes in her behaviour – or if they had, they hadn’t said anything, which was even worse!
Maybe she was just being paranoid, or overthinking it… but agh, it was so obvious!! Why wasn’t anyone pointing it out, raising an eyebrow, anything?!
Hell, the other day… all of them were in voice chat and in response to Ena making a comment about how tired her hands were from sketching, and how she wished they would cramp up less, Mizuki had been all “and here I thought you were good with your hands!”
That playful tone, commented with a flirty wink as she rested her chin on her hand, had made Ena’s mouth drop open immediately.
Then, after a brief factory reset, she had complained with a hint of pink in her cheeks, being all “ha ha, very funny!! My hands are actually so sore, the least you could do is appreciate my efforts… and at least I’m meeting my deadlines, unlike you!”
And sure, Mizuki said stuff like that all the time, but – argh!
Ena buried her head in her hands, flushing madly. It was different now, for some reason!! And she just couldn’t put her finger on why exactly!
Well, whatever, Ena huffed to herself.
There was no use thinking so hard about it, and stress was bad for the skin, so unless she wanted to break out she needed her thoughts to shut up.
With a tired sigh, Ena ran a hand through her hair, mussing up the silky brown strands. She attempted to turn her train of thought back to the drawing she was supposed to be working on.
Right, so she had a basic head-and-torso draft here… But, hmmm, maybe she could try using this perspective instead, to highlight the silhouette and make it stand out more…
She erased guidelines and pencilled in soft features, bright eyes and a head tilted just so, a hand raised in the beginnings of a wave, fingers delicately posed.
Ena lost herself in the sketch, pencil strokes filling the page. Absent mindedly, she added a touch of lace there on the skirt, soft lips raised in a hint of a smile, long legs, a cute bow and long-lashed eyes…
A black fineliner captured the details, the way light pink strands cascaded in a ponytail over her shoulder, creamy skin and soft cheekbones, a freckle on her elbow and chipped nail polish on her ring finger…
Before she knew it, the birds outside her window were singing, the sky was starting to lighten outside, and the subject of her thoughts was staring out at her from the page.
Ena nibbled on her lip, frustrated now. Well… at the very least, it had turned out an excellent piece. Considering she saw Mizuki so often, it wasn’t a surprise Ena had captured her essence so perfectly.
Maybe… Eugh, it would no doubt be embarrassing, but it really was such a great sketch…
Before Ena could think too hard about it (her spur-of-the-moment decision likely influenced by the bags under her eyes and lack of sleep in her brain) she was pulling up the camera app on her phone and snapping a photo.
Within a moment, it was uploaded to the Nightcord server.
“Practice sketch!” Ena hurriedly typed after. She couldn’t let Mizuki get a big head, after all. She had just happened to draw her by mistake, it’s not like she had put a lot of effort in or anything!
And with those comforting lies, Ena was out for the count – she hadn’t had caffeine at all in the past six hours, it was a wonder she’d lasted so long really… and she could already feel her eyes starting to droop.
Stretching her arms back and letting out a huge yawn, she stumbled into her bed, barely managing to yank the covers over her head before plummeting into dreamland.
When she awoke, hours later, it was to the sound of loud dinging.
Head still heavy on the pillow and eyes sealed shut with exhaustion, Ena raised an arm and slapped the snooze button on her clock – so sue her, she wanted some more sleep after an all-nighter.
But for some reason, the dinging didn’t stop. Already irritated, Ena managed to sit up in her bed, rubbing at her sandy eyes. God, why wouldn’t it shut up? She was so tired, shit… maybe this was her karma for her terrible sleep schedule…
Blinking bleary eyes, Ena’s vision slowly came into focus, enough for her to recognize her phone vibrating on her desk. She didn’t remember setting an alarm on there… was someone calling her?
Suddenly, Ena felt wide awake, shoving back her covers as she jumped to her feet. Because that dinging… that was her social media notification tone, wasn’t it?
Oh god… was Mizuki annoyed that she had tried drawing her? Did they all hate her sketch or something? Ena didn’t think she’d said anything weird, all she’d done was send the image on the group chat.
Ena grabbed her phone and collapsed into her desk chair, sinking into the soft cushions with a sense of dread as it unlocked. Huh, it was noon already? Wait- wait a minute, 99+ notifications on her home screen, what the hell?!
All of them read the same way, pretty much. So-and-so liked and commented on her post, which would be fine, except she hadn’t posted on her social media last night.
Wait a second.
Ena’s mind froze, going into overdrive.
There was… there was no way she had accidentally posted that sketch of Mizuki on her social media account, was there? That was insane, out of the damn question, she would never make such a stupid mistake no matter how sleep-addled her brain was!
Please let it be posted to the art account, please let it be posted to the art account, Ena begged to herself. That she could deal with - hardly anyone would see it anyway, she thought bitterly.
Terrified thoughts roaring in her mind, she opened the app, frantically wishing that her internet would load faster, dammit!
And then… it loaded… and Ena sat there, aghast.
Because of all the horrible nightmare scenarios that had been rocketing around her mind, this- this hadn’t even been on the list, it made no sense, it- what the fuck???
Because yeah, she had accidentally uploaded her art on her social media, the one that actually had followers, the one where she posted cute selfies of herself.
Which ordinarily, would be the most humiliating experience ever, as it would probably get like fifty likes and one or two nice comments made out of pity, and Ena would never live it down.
But… her art of Mizuki, which she had posted on her public social media…
It had gone viral. Insanely viral. A level of viral that none of her selfies, although popular, had ever reached.
A shaky, disbelieving smile started to spread across Ena’s face as she read the comment section, filled with praise to the point where it was ridiculous. People… people loved all the small details in her drawing, the care taken with each line, the small additions of colour that really brought life to the sketch…
They’d noticed how much effort she’d put into making Mizuki feel real. In not drawing her as some generic airbrushed cute girl, but depicting her as a living, breathing person.
Ena could hardly believe it. She scrolled and scrolled through the comments, looking for one backhanded compliment, one negative remark, literally anything.
Sure, there were a handful of toxic comments as per usual, but the amount of people responding to those comments and arguing with them, calling them out on their bullshit and cutting them down….
With a jolt, Ena realized tears were prickling in her eyes. She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve and hardly able to believe any of it, smile bright enough to light up the sky, because-
Her dad had been wrong. So, so wrong.
And she’d finally proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt, or so it felt like it. People LOVED her art, they really did! This was proof!
There was just one thing niggling at the back of Ena’s mind, as although all these strangers adoring her art and heaping praise upon it was the best feeling in the world…
Well, there were three people’s opinions that she valued more than any stranger’s.
A lump of anxiety in the back of her throat (but a small, unshakeable smile still on her face despite it), she exited the app and opened up Nightcord.
There were 3 unread messages in their group chat, and… 1 DM from Mizuki.
Steeling herself, Ena opened the group chat first.
10:09 AM
K: @enanan, your drawing of mizuki seems to have really taken off! I’m glad :)
10:32 AM
Yuki: It’s a good sketch. Better than her usual art. I’m not surprised.
10:35 AM
K: I wonder why it was posted at 5am though? perhaps she stayed up all night
K: if you did, hope you’re having a good sleep, ena
K: you deserve it after your hard work
Ena initially felt her smile brighten from Kanade’s kind words – supportive, as always. As she read, her lips twisted at Mafuyu’s backhanded compliment, but oh well… that was practically a standing ovation, coming from her.
Ena typed back a quick appreciative response, not letting Yuki’s snide words slide but still appreciating the compliment overall.
And then… Mizuki.
Her finger hovered over the chat button, paralysed by indecision. She almost.. didn’t want to know what her best friend thought of her sketch. Everyone else loved it, but- well, what if Mizuki hated it?
What if she was irritated that Ena hadn’t asked first before drawing her, or was annoyed that she hadn’t gotten it quite right? Or angry that she had posted it publicly without asking??
Lost in a turmoil of negative thoughts, Ena didn’t notice her finger accidentally touching the screen and opening the chat. She jolted with surprise, eyes immediately darting to read the screen.
5:32 AM
Amia: :)
Wh- what the hell is that supposed to mean?!?!
All anxiety immediately left Ena’s mind, scowling as she typed back a response.
1:13 PM
Enanan: What the hell is that supposed to mean ?! (╬▔皿▔)╯
Just say u love my drawing or say u hate it like a normal person u weirdo
Minutes passed without a response, despite Amia’s status remaining stubbornly bright green and online. What gives?
Ena felt indecision return to her thoughts.
Maybe… shit, she really should have asked first!!
1:20 PM
Enanan: btw sorry I didn’t ask u first or anything, I actually didn’t mean to post it
I was so sleep deprived I accidentally did that instead of sending it to the gc lmao
Ena fidgeted as she sat back in her chair, glancing to where the sketch sat on her desk. It looked the same as it had last night, still maybe one of the best pieces she’d drawn… well, if Mizuki didn’t like it, that was her loss!
Ena huffed to herself, folding her arms. It really didn’t matter that much, it was just a drawing. Maybe she should just go back to sleep, or something…
Then, she heard her phone ding with the Nightcord notification tone, and she instantly grabbed her phone, nearly throttling it in her hands as she willed it to unlocked faster.
1:25 PM
Amia: oh
that makes sense, u would never post ur art to ur selfie acc on purpose
Ena hesitated before responding.
Something felt… off, for some reason.
Mizuki wasn’t using emojis, and maybe it was just the lack of tone indicators but – it felt like she was upset about something.
1:26 PM
Enanan:
well duh!! (ノ`Д)ノ
still so shocked it blew up like that tho
guess ppl loved the way I drew u lol
Ena typed that last sentence with a sense of boldness, wondering if Mizuki would pick up what she was putting down.
That she had tried really, really hard to capture Mizuki in her element, and that the main reason people loved it was that she had succeeded.
Anyway, she had absolutely no clue what Mizuki was seemingly upset about… hopefully it wasn’t because of her.
1:28 PM
Amia: mmm
congrats on that, ur art’s finally getting loads of attention even tho it was on accident haha
Ena frowned. Okay, now she was sure something was wrong.
1:29 PM
Enanan: hey are u allg?
I might just be overthinking but u sound upset
R u jealous now that I’m famous ♪(´▽`)
1:30 PM
Amia: you WISH
Just u wait one of my edits is gonna become “that one edit” on tiktok any day now
( •̀ ω •́ )✧
Ena let out a sigh of relief. Okay, phew, maybe Mizuki was just tired or something, or maybe she had been overthinking this entire time.
1:31 PM
Amia: and btw dw, I’m fine
was just surprised ig
1:31 PM
Enanan: surprised at what?
With a shock, Ena realizes something, scrolling up their messages.
Mizuki’s odd tone started after… after Ena had told her posting the drawing publicly had been an accident.
Was she disappointed? Shit, Ena hadn’t meant to like, imply something about her appearance or anything like that, Mizuki was stunning both in-person and within the drawing and she knew it.
…Right?
1:31 PM
Amia: doesn’t matter
ur art rocks
it’s about time ppl noticed :3
Ena didn’t want to assume… maybe she hadn’t even said anything wrong.
Mizuki seemed fine now, so she shouldn’t push it.
1:32 PM
Enanan: since when r u this supportive
ur always saying my art would be nothing w/out ur editing skills (*  ̄︿ ̄)
1:33 PM
Amia: and it would be
the sketch u posted today didn’t need any editing tho
srsly it’s actually so good ^0^
even yuki thought so, that’s how yk it’s genuine lmao
Ena smiled with pride, cheeks flushing. So Mizuki had liked her sketch after all… well, of course she did. Mizuki always liked her art – although she made fun of it too much for Ena’s liking.
1:35 PM
Enanan: stop ur being too nice its weirding me out
ur right abt the yuki part thoo (* ̄▽ ̄*)ブ
and anyways idk what ur on abt, my art is always better w ur editing
yin and yang or whatever
1:36 PM
Amia: look who’s being weirdly nice NOW
1:36 PM
Enanan: TRAITOR
YOU TRICKED ME
u always make me say the stupidest things w/out realizing omfg
1:36 PM
Amia: o(*°▽°*)o
all part of the charm
Ena let out a light laugh as she rolled her eyes, resting her head on her hand.
1:37 PM
Enanan: please, what charm
You’re about as charming as a stink bug (¬_¬ )
1:38 PM
Amia: ur so cruel enaaaaa
can’t believe I’m friends w you(︶^︶)
I gotta say tho, I’m surprised how many details u got right on ur sketch
I mean u even got the freckle on my elbow (=•ω<=)ρ⌒☆
Ena paused, feeling her cheeks redden. Well that was embarrassing, Mizuki had noticed? Jeez, it wasn’t like it was on purpose…
1:40 PM
Enanan: well what were u expecting, I’m an artist
It’s my job to notice those thingsss
1:41
Amia: sure but like wow, to that extent? surpassed my expectations enanan, didn’t know u were so observant ~( ̄▽ ̄)~*
u even drew my fave ribbon with the fraying on the side, and the exact shade of nail polish I wear ~ impressive!
Ena buried her head in her hands, EXTREMELY regretting the level of detail she’d put into the sketch. Mizuki would never let it go now, ugh… this was humiliating…
1:43 PM
Enanan: keep talking that way and I won’t be sketching u again anytime soon
o(一︿一+)o
1:44 PM
Amia: awww am I embarrassing u
it’s not MY fault u drew me so well
then again the source material was gorgeous already so it’s not like it could’ve turned out bad in the first place <3
Ena let out a heavy sigh… Mizuki was kind of right, in a way. She was stunning, after all, it’d have been difficult to mess up a drawing with her as the subject.
1:45 PM
Enanan: should’ve known you’d get a big ego from this…
1:45 PM
Amia: you didn’t deny it
:3
1:46 PM
Enanan: …
Stfu  ̄へ ̄
1:46 PM
Amia: HAHAHA I KNEW IT (≧∇≦)
Ena bit her lip, considering. A small, teasing smile started to creep across her face.
1:46 PM
Enanan: I don’t get why ur surprised honestly
Ur literally gorgeous
1:49 PM
Amia: ur being sarcastic aren’t u… ur so cruel enanan ~(>_<。)\
Ena frowned.
1:49 PM
Enanan: no I’m not u dummy
Ur cute and u own it, idk why ur always trying to get me to admit that
1:50 PM
Amia: oh stop being silly, ik ur not being srs
There’s no need to be so mean ( ˘︹˘ )
Ena’s frown deepened. What? Ugh, since when was Mizuki so bad at just taking the compliment?
Then again, it was true that Ena rarely, if ever, complimented her… well, she didn’t state it aloud, anyway. Mizuki always knew what she meant whenever she was being stubborn about admitting something, so there never any need to say the praise out loud.
Had she really never outright given Mizuki praise before? Ena’s brows furrowed.
This was embarrassing, but… she should keep pushing, otherwise she’d feel like a bad friend.
1:51 PM
Enanan: jeez, ur so bad at taking a compliment
my sketch reflected how pretty u are u dummy, I didn’t put so much effort into it just for u to refuse to admit ur cute all of a sudden
Ena waited for a response, feeling her cheeks warm. Why was Mizuki taking so long to respond?
The three dots indicating her friend typing appeared at the beginning of the screen for a few seconds, and then vanished.
Ena raised an eyebrow.
The three dots appeared once more, then… gone.
After what felt like ages, a new message finally popped up.
1:59 PM
Amia: well obviously I know I’m cute, but it took me off guard to hear you say it yourself, enanan (〜 ̄▽ ̄)〜 so bold!
2:00 PM
Enanan: idk I just realized I’d never actually told u upfront and I felt like an asshole
jeez, don’t tell me ur getting an even bigger head now…
2:01 PM
Amia: aha, so that’s it! I was wondering why you were being so honest, it’s unlike you
And how can I not get a big head when I’m told how pretty I am by my dear Enanan? ~
O(* ̄▽ ̄*)o
2:01 PM
Enanan: I’m always honest, screw you!!
Ena felt heat spread across her face despite her annoyance, smiling like an idiot. What was all this about “dear Enanan?” Mizuki was so embarrassing, god.
Not seeing her friend typing, she swiped off the app, going to check her social media again.
Ena’s eyes promptly bugged out of her head. IT HAD DOUBLED IN LIKES?! This was insane… at this rate, she wouldn’t be surprised if her friends from her old art class stumbled across it.
She swiped back to her chat with Mizuki, typing out a message.
2:04 PM
Enanan: good god, did u see my social media
It’s blowing up now even more than before
maybe I should draw u more often lmao
2:05 PM
Amia: I did see it, it’s only natural it should blow up so much when I’m the subject :3
as they say in the west, u should draw me like one of ur french girls enanan – bet that would get loads of likes too ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
Almost instantaneously, heat blossomed across Ena’s cheeks, and she buried her head in her hands for what felt like the third time in the last fifteen minutes. Mizuki, damn it – how was she not embarrassed, making jokes like that?!
2:07 PM
Enanan: you are incorrigible
2:07 PM
Amia: I don’t know the meaning of the word >:)
Ena let out a laugh, tapping away on her phone.
2:08 PM
Enanan: anyway, last time I checked if I drew you like “one of my french girls” I’d get banned u idiot
2:08 PM
Amia: oh, so if that wasn’t a problem, you’d do it then?
2:10 PM
Enanan: I’m not even going to respond to that
ur the worst
I never see u teasing K or yuki like that (*  ̄︿ ̄)
There was a suspicious silence for a few minutes, while Ena slowly realized something.
Why was it only her that was the subject of Mizuki’s ruthless flirting?
2:15 PM
Amia: why, they’re nowhere near as fun to tease, enanan ♪(´▽`)
And besides, if I tried flirting with yuki like that, I think I wouldn’t survive it – she’d give me a look so icy-cold I’d freeze 〒▽〒
Well, that made sense… but was that really all there was to it? Ena paused, hesitant.
2:16 PM
Enanan: guess that makes sense
I actually have no idea how kanade would react if u tried that on her
she might just stare at u silently
2:17 PM
Amia: I wouldn’t dare tease kanade like that, I have too much respect for her :3
2:18 PM
Enanan: don’t think I didn’t miss that implication…
what a shame, guess if u don’t respect me I won’t be able to draw u again
2:19 PM
Amia: NONO PLS IM SORRY
2:19 PM
Enanan: nope, too late
ur loss
2:19 PM
Amia: (;´д`)ゞ
why have u forsaken me..
2:20 PM
Enanan: if u don’t want me to be mean, then don’t insult me to my face!! >:(
2:20 PM
Amia: I take it back… I respect you so, so much enanan, I am but a humble servant before her queen o(* ̄▽ ̄*)ブ
2:20 PM
Enanan: that’s more like it
2:20 PM
Amia: all I can do is kneel before ur throne and kiss ur feet in apology (;′⌒`)
Ena grimaced.
2:21 PM
Enanan: ok ew no need to go that far
2:21 PM
Amia: well, perhaps in apology I could kiss somewhere else then (○` 3′○)
Almost instantaneously, heat spread like a rash across her cheeks. God, Ena didn’t know how much more of this she could take.
2:21 Pm
Enanan: I am actually going to scalp you
2:21 PM
Amia: …on the cheek, of course!
gosh, ur so dirty minded! :0
Flushing, Ena bit her lip in hesitation, before finally addressing the elephant in the room that only appeared to be visible to her.
2:22 PM
Enanan: okay seriously, what is it with the teasing?? (╬▔皿▔)╯
I swear ur doing it way more than u used to
and the others don’t even notice for some reason- literally why?!
2:22 PM
Amia: I already told u why! It’s fun :3
2:23 PM
Enanan: what, do u just love flustering me or smth?? Is that ur idea of fun ( ˘︹˘ )
For some reason, after that, Mizuki stopped responding for a while. Ena fully thought her friend had gone to eat lunch or something, and turned back to her sketch.
Then, after what felt like ages, her phone pinged.
2:59 PM
Amia: maybe
I mean, I didn’t realize u got so flustered purely by my silly teasing (╯▽╰ )
Fuck!!
Ena shoved her sketchbook to the side, grip tightening on her phone. Her cheeks felt hot all of a sudden, as she realized that Mizuki had no idea that her flirting had been having such an effect on her.
And now she knew just how flustered she’d been!! Ena grimaced- this was humiliating. She instantly went into damage control mode.
2:59 PM
Enanan: I don’t get that flustered, don’t flatter urself ( ˘︹˘ )
I get like… idk
The normal amount of flustered
whatever that is
Ena worried at her lip, anxiety making her throat feel tight. That response was fine, right? Mizuki wasn’t going to think she was weird, was she?
Her eyes didn’t stray from the three dots bouncing on the bottom of the screen, finally relenting when a message came through.
3:02 PM
Amia: real slick ena <3
ur not falling for me are u (=•ω<=)ρ⌒☆
Mizuki had completely gotten the wrong idea, how embarrassing!! Jeez, there was no coming back from this one… Humiliated, Ena tried to swallow down the lump in her throat, and with a jolt, realized that tears were starting to well up in her eyes.
She was… she was a bit too invested. Why did she care so much about this? Why did she feel so damn anxious? It was embarrassing, but- but not that embarrassing.
Ena leaned back in her chair as she pushed her phone away, hands fisted tightly in her skirt. Her gaze was heavy as it rested on the floor. Her thoughts began to unravel like a ball of thread.
There was no way Mizuki’s joke just now was true, was there? Ena’s deathgrip on her skirt tightened. That was silly, there was just no way- like sure, she cared about her, Mizuki was her best friend after all, but falling for her? Pfft.
Plus, Ena wasn’t gay. She hadn’t really had any crushes on guys before, but that was normal, wasn’t it? She hadn’t liked any girls either, so it evened out.
She was straight, she always had been, jeez. Mizuki was just making some stupid joke.
So why was Ena… why was she close to tears? Her lip was nearly being worried to pieces, humiliation spreading in scarlet across her cheeks, and all the while her heart, it- it hurt.
She felt physical pain in her chest, along with a sense of despair. Ena let out a heavy sob, and then another one, breath starting to come faster.
She- god, she really did like Mizuki, didn’t she. She liked her best friend.
Which meant she was one of them, and that she was… hell, she was practically a pervert. Disgusting. She let out a choked cry, fingers digging into her arms.
They were such close friends, fuck, had Ena been creeping on her this entire time? She was- she was disgusting, sickening, and such an awful person- why was Mizuki even friends with her? She definitely wouldn’t be after this mess.
Mizuki was going to find out the truth, and then she was going to lose her. Slowly but surely, tears started to trickle down Ena’s cheeks, as her arms came up, cradling her head as she rocked back and forth.
What was she going to do?
In the midst of a breakdown, she barely heard the buzz of her phone. She scrabbled at her desk for it, grabbing it and pulling it to her chest as her eyes frantically scanned the screen.
3:15 PM
Amia: enaaaaa where did u go 💔
when I said falling I didn’t mean literally fall, did u lose consciousness lmao
Ena let out a strangled sound that was half-sob, half-laughter. She scrubbed at her tears with her sleeve, watching as her best friend continued to type.
3:16 PM
Amia: or is it true that u have fallen for me after all ~( ̄▽ ̄)~*
wow maybe ur so in love that u fainted after seeing my message
well my dear enanan, just say the word and we can elope togetherヽ( ̄ω ̄( ̄ω ̄〃)ゝ
Maybe… maybe Mizuki wouldn’t be as disgusted as she’d thought. She’d always been open-minded, after all.
Ena’s nails dug into her skin, as she squeezed her eyes tight shut, trying to get the pain to distract her from her stupid, stupid thoughts. That was ridiculous, she had to play it safe. She couldn’t risk it.
How to respond, how to respond…
3:18 PM
Enanan: please, I wouldn’t marry you even if u held a gun to my head
you’d probably try to make me do all the chores and spend all your time sewing
3:18 PM
Amia: I’m not hearing a no! (* ̄▽ ̄*)
and wow, u wound me… if anything, you’d make me do all the work and spend ur time preening in front of a mirror like a peacock! :3
Ena let out a stunned snort, a watery smile returning to her face. Mizuki wasn’t wrong.
3:19 PM
Enanan: well, even if we eloped I doubt ur the romantic type
I’d probably divorce u within a week bc you’d love ur outfit mannequin more than me
 ̄へ ̄
3:19 PM
Amia: lies and slander!!
I would be SO romantic
3:19 PM
Enanan: yeah right
3:19 PM
Amia: well, that’s rich coming from u considering I was able to fluster u with my teasing (★ ω ★)
3:20 PM
Enanan: that’s different
3:20 PM
Amia: how exactly? :3
Ena clenched her jaw, frustrated. God, why was Mizuki pushing this subject so much? Why couldn’t they just move on and forget all of that had ever happened?
3:20 PM
Enanan: it just is
Ur my best friend it makes sense that you’d tease me like that, even if it drives me insane(╬▔皿▔)╯
3:20 PM
Amia: enaaaaa ur so dense
I’m not teasing u like that just bc ur my best friend
( ˘︹˘ )
What was Mizuki on about now? Ena knew the teasing wasn’t because “she had funny reactions,” there were plenty of people Mizuki could tease if that was the case, so why her?
3:21 PM
Enanan: well then why
Just be honest u dunce >:(
3:21 PM
Amia: u want me to be honest?
idk if I can be :>
maybe first u should be honest about why my teasing flusters u so much
Slowly, Ena’s eyes widened, static filling her head. What the hell. What the actual hell was this. Did Mizuki know?
Had Mizuki known the whole time, even though Ena had only realized a few minutes ago?
With dawning realization, she scrolled back up and reread her friend’s messages, but this time in a different light.
Mizuki… Mizuki couldn’t be honest about why she was teasing her, just like how Ena couldn’t be honest about why the teasing had flustered her. Did that mean…?
She took the leap, fingers shaking slightly.
3:23 PM
Enanan: mizuki
be honest rn
yk I won’t judge u for anything
If Ena was right, the situation was very, very mixed. Because on one hand, they’d both like eachother… like that… and the sheer idea had vicious butterflies attacking her stomach.
But on the other, it would mean Ena liked girls.
And she- she didn’t really know what to think about that. Or even where to begin thinking about that.
There was silence from Mizuki for a while, as she waited with bated breath. It was the longest twenty minutes of Ena’s life.
Her heart jumped in her throat as she finally saw that her friend was typing. Come on, come on… she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this high-strung. Then the typing animation disappeared, and she slumped.
And after a twenty agonizing minutes that seemed to drag on for hours, she glared at her screen. Because Mizuki’s icon had changed to the little grey circle that indicated she was offline.
What the fuck?! Ena finally had the courage to make a move, hating herself all the while, and this was all she got?!
Fuming, she tossed her phone to the side, letting out a frustrated sound. She had given her the perfect opening! The stage was set, for god’s sake!
Maybe… shit, what if she’d misread the situation completely? Did Mizuki think she was weird? Was that why she was being ghosted?
Ena was sick of this. She needed to do something, anything, or she was going to lose it. Her eyes scanned her room, searching for a distraction.
Maybe she could try out a new makeup look? Try and style that pink skirt that was stubbornly refusing to pair with her other clothes? Or…
Her stomach grumbled, obnoxiously loudly, and she rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe should take care of her basic bodily functions first.
Everything else could wait.
And if Mizuki didn’t text back by nightfall, she was going to break into her stupidly pretty best friend’s house and force her at knifepoint to type out a response.
(This is chapter 1! Next and final chapter out soon <3)
#mizuena#mizuki akiyama#mizuki pjsk#n25 mizuki#akiyama mizuki#ena shinonome#ena pjsk#n25#n25 mafuyu#n25 ena#mafuyu asahina#kanade yoisaki#enamizu#kanamafu#nightcord at 25:00#25 ji nightcord de#nightcord ena#nightcord mafuyu#nightcord mizuki#wlw community#wlw post#fanfic on tumblr#my writing#fanfic#ao3 writer#archive of our own#pjsk#pjsk fanfic#project sekai#hatsune miku colorful stage
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Kinkuary 24 Joshua — role play // office sex
➥ CEO!Reader x secretary!Joshua (role play)
summary: Y/N & Joshua have decided to implement role play in their bedroom activities and what better use of their home office than to play out a CEO and secretary fantasy? wc: 1.5k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): oral (f receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, desk sex, role play, office sex, use of pet names (sugar, doll, baby, etc), mild degradation, Shua is a cocky bastard and the reader tries to keep control. I think I got all the warnings, but if I missed any, please let me know! Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan Seventeen taglist: @aikisbbq @niktwazny303 @indigo35 @moonlightsora @witherednotes @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @yeosayang @katsukis1wife Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Taglist is closed!
a/n: I don’t have many notes about this one but I’m tagging yoonguurt to torture her. I hope you enjoy this part! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.
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“Mr. Hong, could you come in here for a moment?” You called, looking down at the papers on your desk. A moment later, Joshua poked his head into the room. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asked, smiling when you looked up.
You waved your hand, beckoning him in and telling him to shut the door behind him. Joshua shut the door and moved to stand in front of your desk as you set the folder you’d been looking through on top of the desk.
“Did you cancel my meetings, like I asked?” You asked, leaning back against your chair, fixing your eyes on the man before you. He nodded silently, keeping his hands behind his back. “Words please, Mr. Hong,” you said suddenly.
“Oh, right. Sorry. Yes ma’am,” he answered, clearing his throat and waiting for your next move. He still didn’t seem to understand the rules. You’d have to remind him.
What looked like a typical CEO-secretary relationship was actually one of many role plays you like to share with your boyfriend after discovering you both had an interest in it.
The CEO role was usually reserved for Joshua but he conceded to let you try out the dominant role for once, exercise some power control over him, something he rarely let go of. Joshua didn’t relinquish control often.
Deciding to change tactics, you sighed and got to your feet. “I’ve told you,” you started as you walked around to stand in front of the desk, leaning against it. “You can call me Y/N.”
Joshua merely smiled politely at you. “That seems a little informal, ma’am,” he answered, emphasizing the last word. ‘He agrees to relinquish control but he’s gonna act like a brat?’
Joshua eyed you carefully, taking in your body language. It wasn’t in your repertoire to take control, even when you were on top, Joshua was still in control. It was fun for him to see how you tried to keep what little power he let you have.
Yes, let you have. Joshua could take control back in the blink of an eye but only because he knew you too well. He knew if he pushed this brat role a little, he’d frustrate you to the point of letting him have control back.
Or so he thought.
“You seem pretty uptight,” you commented. “Like you can't relax around me.”
Joshua shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it comes with the job,” he answered. “Keeping things professional,” he added as you stood up and walked towards where he stood.
“Oh, I think you just have a stick up your ass,” you quipped, making his brow arch. “Oh?” He asked, fighting a smirk. “Do you think about my ass a lot, ma'am?”
You rolled your eyes. Suddenly you grabbed him by the tie. “Do you have a smart remark for everything I say?” You asked, dragging him back towards your desk. You must have caught him off guard because he stumbled momentarily before regaining his footing but only just before you pushed him down into your chair.
“Well this is unexpected,” Joshua said as he looked around. “Am I the boss now?” He joked. You rolled your eyes yet again and moved to stand in front of him, resting your ass on the desk.
“Have you ever slept with your bosses before?” You asked bluntly.
Joshua snorted. “Can’t say I have,” he answered. “They’re mostly old men. Not exactly my type.” Your eyebrow raised, a small smirk pulling across your face.
“And what about me?” You asked, leaning forward slightly. Joshua fought the smirk that tried to form. “You certainly aren’t an old man,” he answered. “I meant am I your type?”
Joshua studied you for a minute before answering.
“Nope.” You could have smacked him upside the head for that.
You sighed, scooting back onto the desk, placing your feet on the armrests of the chair, letting him catch sight of your naked form under your skirt. But only for a moment. “And now?” You asked, noticing how his gaze lingered.
Finally he looked up to meet your gaze. “I should report you to HR immediately,” he answered. “This is surely against the company’s code of conduct,” he continued.
You leaned back, resting your palms against the cool wood of the desk. “But you won’t report me, will you?” You asked, smirking as he shook his head. “And why not?” You pressed. You wanted him to give in and stop playing around.
“Because I don’t know where the HR department is here.”
You were getting frustrated but you knew this is what he wanted. He wanted you to get frustrated and to give control back to him. You weren’t an idiot.
“You and those smartass remarks,” you said, reaching forward to grab his tie. “Yes ma’am, I'm told they’re my best quality,” he answered. You shook your head. “I think your best quality is when you shut up and do as you're told,” you said softly.
“But I—”
You cut him off quickly. “I can think of three better uses of that mouth of yours. Wanna know what they are?”
That seemed to shut him up. He nodded, looking up at you with curious eyes.
You leaned back again, showing off your soaked center. “One,” you said softly, moving your hand to grab his hair firmly and guiding his face between your thighs.
Joshua’s hand grabbed your hips as he dove in, tongue ravishing and exploring your cunt, teasing your clit and suckling on the sensitive nub. You let out a moan, leaning back onto your elbows.
Each flick of his tongue over your clit had your body shuddering as your fingers slowly combed through his hair. “That’s much better,” you sighed. “No smart remarks now.”
Joshua tried to pull back but your grip on his hair tightened. “I didn’t say you could stop,” you hissed. Joshua froze and you could almost see the cogs in his brain working as he tried to fight against his urge to take control.
Finally, he relaxed and dove right back in, tongue dipping down to tease your entrance. “Good boy,” you purred. Your thighs shook as Joshua groaned against your pussy. “Keep calling me that and we’re gonna have problems,” he said, glancing up at you.
You narrowed your eyes, urging his mouth back where you wanted it.
“I’ll call you whatever I want,” you retorted. “You aren’t the one in charge here”
The moment the words left your lips, you knew you’d made a mistake.
Joshua pulled from your grasp, getting to his feet as he towered over your form on the desk. “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” He asked, pupils blown and your essence smeared across his lips and chin.
“Joshua,” you started, trying to remain in control but your boyfriend clearly had enough of your game.
“No,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you off the desk. “It’s not Joshua,” he added, turning you roughly and bending you over the desk, pushing your skirt up to your waist as he undid his pants, pulling his hardened cock free from its cloth prison and rubbing the tip against your folds.
“Then what do I call you?” You asked, cheek pressed against the hard wood of the desk. You felt the tip of his cock barely push past your labia. “Sir,” he answered.
“You can call me ‘sir.’”
Without warning, Joshua slammed into you, making you scream at the sudden intrusion. “I’ll teach you to tease and play with me, you little slut,” he grunted, his hips setting a brutally fast and merciless pace, pounding into you from behind.
“S-slow, Joshua!” You whimpered, brain melting at the speed and force of his thrusts that you forgot to use the correct term. “I mean s-sir!” Your backpedaling didn’t work and of course Joshua heard you.
He gave you a particularly sharp thrust, your thighs hitting the desk at the sheer force. “Nice try, doll,” Joshua retorted. “I heard that.”
You were no stranger to rough sex when it came to Joshua and you always welcomed it. He didn’t lose control like that often, normally keeping his composure but every great once in a while, he just really needed to fuck you. And hard.
This was one of those times.
Your orgasm, which had been building slowly as he ate you out, came barreling down, crashing into you as Joshua continued to fuck you through it. Whether he was punishing you or chasing his own high you’d never know.
His thrusts were always well timed, hips never faltering and you didn’t know how he did it, keeping his composure right until the very end.
As you came down from your high, Joshua continued his onslaught, cock pistoning in and out of your wet cunt, your cum coating his shaft.
“Look at that, sugar,” he said with a scoff. “I’ve barely fucked you and you’ve already cum all over my cock.” A whimper left your lips as you felt one of his hands leave your waist, moving up to grab a fist full of your hair.
The sting of your scalp had tears forming in the corners of your eyes as your boyfriend leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“Hng—! J-sir! Please, it’s too much!” You could feel your second climax building, tension swelling in your belly like a balloon as Joshua refused to relent. You heard a dark chuckle emanate from your boyfriend before he whispered.
“Too much? Aww, baby... I’m just getting started.”
#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#joshua hong scenarios#joshua hong imagines#joshua hong smut#joshua hong x reader#joshua scenarios#joshua imagines#joshua smut#joshua x reader#kwanisms kinkuary#kinkuary 2023
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Anakin x Padmé
This is smut. MDNI. 18+. Mind the tags on AO3.
~2366 words
These are the early days of the Clone Wars. Padmé is frustrated about Senate business, and Anakin is frustrated with the Jedi Council. So when Anakin approaches Padmé in the Senate building all hot and angry, they decide to blow off some steam in her office.
Teaser posted below, link at the bottom to the full scene on AO3.
This is totally unedited, it might be awful I wrote this in kind of a frenzy. If you guys have edits or comments lemme know!
P.S. This is my first attempt writing smut for these two lovebirds, so while I do take constructive criticism very well (in fact I welcome it, if you have tips for me lemme know I'm always trying to improve my writing) I don't appreciate outright bullies, so try to be nice!
A Jedi Comes to Call
Padmé Amidala stood, locked in deep conversation with Senator Organa just outside her office. A large portion of the Senate hearing today had been a discussion of whether or not the clones should be given full Republic citizenship after the end of the war, and it had not gone well.
“I can’t believe how many Senators are more concerned with how this might affect the job market,” Padmé said under her breath. “It really shows where our priorities lie.”
Senator Organa nodded sadly. “We should be setting them up with pensions, not arguing about whether or not they deserve citizenship after fighting our war for us.”
Padmé was about to respond with her agreement when she felt him.
She wasn’t Force-sensitive, but the bond she had with her husband went beyond the Force. Padmé could feel echoes of his resentment, and they melded with her own frustrations from the day, though she had no idea what he was upset about. The Council? Something Obi-wan said? Something Ahsoka did? It didn’t really matter in the end.
And then she saw him.
Anakin rounded the corner, looking dark and handsome and angry. She knew it was wrong, but damn was he hot when he was angry. His every stride toward her was confident, powerful.
Intense irritation radiated from his form. He was tense, on edge, and he needed…oh, he needed release from it.
Padmé’s breath hitched and her face began to burn.
That’s why he was here.
He was coming to her because he wanted her.
Because he needed her to grant him that sweet release that only she could give him.
“Senator Amidala?” Bail asked. “Are you alright?”
Padmé cleared her throat. “Y-yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she said, completely embarrassed because she’d honestly forgotten Bail was still there.
Had he been talking to her?
Bail’s eyes went to the tall, beautiful, Jedi who was now close enough that Padmé could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. And she really, really, wanted to, despite being incredibly annoyed at him for assuming she wouldn’t refuse him even here at her place of work.
That gentle smirk on his lips as he looked at her made her doubt herself.
Definitely doubt herself.
Alright, maybe his assumption was correct.
But she was still irritated.
“General Skywalker!” Bail said. “How good of you to visit the Senate. Did you watch the hearing?”
Anakin’s demeanor changed completely, and he smiled at the man, hiding everything that was burning within him. “No, Senator, I’m actually here to speak with Senator Amidala.”
Anakin’s eyes went to Padmé, and she still felt the pent up anger rolling of him like boiling water, but beneath that there was lust, there was hunger. And it was all for her.
Excitement and anger heated her blood.
Who did he think he was, marching in to her place of work expecting to seduce her? He was insufferable, couldn’t he tell that she was working on something important? She was already angry and upset with how the hearing had gone, and she would have to spend the next few days working up some way to get other Senators on her side of this.
And yet his boldness seriously turned her on.
And maybe he could help her clear her mind.
He was a Jedi, after all.
“Of course,” Bail said. “Senator Amidala and I were just finishing up.” His eyes glanced from Padmé to Anakin, once, then twice. He stepped back, awkwardly. “I’ll be on my way.”
Finally, the two of them were relatively alone in the hall. There were others nearby, but they were all out of earshot.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, General Skywalker?” Padmé asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Can’t I visit a friend at work?” Anakin asked.
Padmé watched his lips move and all she wanted was to feel them against her own. But his words were absolutely infuriating and cocky. She would show him. Her mouth watered thinking about what she’d do to him later to torture him for this. “You’re going to regret this,” she sneered quietly.
“I really don’t think I am,” Anakin replied, smirking again.
She looked up at him, studying him, probably a little closer than a senator and a Jedi general should ever stand. She could feel his hot breath on her face.
The way he looked at her like he could ravage her here, now, against the wall of the Senate with everyone watching, made her knees feel weak.
The tension between them had become electric, and Shiraya help her, she wanted him so badly.
Heat pooled in her core, and she made her decision.
“I’m going to regret this,” she muttered, and walked toward her office.
Anakin’s voice was low, and seductive. “I’ll make certain you won’t.”
#star wars#Star Wars smut#padme amidala#anakin skywalker#anakin x padme#my writing#anidala#smut fic#18+ mdni#one shot#anidala smut#fanfiction#Star Wars fanfiction#Star Wars the clone wars#tcw#anidala fanfiction
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